#i’m pretty sure they’re related???? I think?????? Ah shoot I actually can’t remember now help

[yumemiruuuu]

“Murong Lian and Yue Chenqing duo moments that made me giggle like the corpse of Miss Cui”

—————

and a bonus Yue Chenqing moment:

As a sidenote, can we talk about how Murong Lian’s name is made up of the same characters from Mu Qing, Qi Rong and Xie Lian’s names? It just occurred to me today and I don’t think I will ever be the same knowing this????

[nyarmand]

my ranking of the alex rider original series (stormbreaker through scorpia rising) from ‘book i least enjoy rereading’ to ‘book i most enjoy rereading’ let’s goooo

spoilers for all 9 books under the cut

9. Ark Angel

...He went to space. He went to space. Also the entire plot could have been avoided if Drevin had actually bothered to provide a photograph of his son. I’m sure he had one. I still like this book but it’s literally so insane that I just don’t know what to do with it. 

It is however really funny that Webber just goes and gives a speech insulting this super high-profile ecoterrorist group and acts like it’s no big deal and then they kill him. Shock of shocks.

8. Skeleton Key

Okay, points to this book for terrifying the shit out of me. God damn it does that shark scene scare me. Also, points for making me feel a little bit bad for a man who wants to nuke his own country because he thinks it will fix the place up. I’m still not entirely sure how that’s supposed to work, but that’s probably a good thing. I feel like understanding his thought process would say bad things about me. Still, I actually did feel sorry for him, if only a little. Dude was clearly mentally unstable and I doubt his son’s death helped at all. I also got sad about what happened to Carver and Troy. (Yeah, yeah, I’m a cringe fail American who has the American release. So sue me.) What a nightmare that must’ve been to endure... Otherwise, though, I’m not super into this book. The opening is just kind of meh and the way it leads into the rest of the plot seems a little bit unbelievable. Also, this might be an unpopular opinion, but Sabina annoys me. I would not get along with her at all and I can’t imagine her as a girlfriend. Skeleton Key does, however, absolutely excel at the emotional scenes. 

Also, why are all the spy agencies so comfortable with sending in a 14-year-old? Especially when they outright admit that the other attempts have all died horribly? Bureaucracy’s a bitch.

7. Point Blank

Boo, Dr. Grief! Boo! We hate your white supremacy! I’m so glad you got a snowmobile to the face, you deserved it. (Perks of books written by Jewish people--we aren’t afraid to give the neo-Nazis an unpleasant death.) Anyway, this book definitely isn’t bad, but I wouldn’t really say it stands out in the series. It definitely does hammer home the point of just how trapped Alex is, since MI6 isn’t going to just let him go after one mission, and let’s face it, the plot with the clones is creepy as hell, if highly improbable. But I’m largely just here to see the neo-Nazi get snowmobiled. That’s right, I just completely changed the definition of a pre-established word. I’m a rebel.

Also, I hate Fiona Friend so much and overall think she just didn’t need to be in the book, but the line about ‘I’d rather kiss the horse’ made me laugh so hard. Alex, you sass.

6. Snakehead

Okay, let’s talk about how genius the plan in this book is. I love it! I love how Yu wants to kill the people involved in the peace conference without making them into martyrs, so he comes up with this whole elaborate plan to stage a natural disaster. It’s incredible. This dude was thinking so far ahead. And he would’ve gotten away with it, too, if it weren’t for that meddling kid... But anyway, I don’t see a lot of books where the villain really acknowledges that killing their enemies could just cause more problems for them via turning them into martyrs for a cause. Also, the way he’s so polite and soft-spoken while also being a complete monster... This book genuinely gives me chills. Extra bonus points for the part in the hospital, the absolute nightmare of having all your organs slowly removed and sold off and everyone around you is being so nice about it? ‘Oh, don’t worry, Alex, it won’t be so bad. Here, take your medicine. Do you need anything?’ Literally just. What the fuck. 

Also Ash can fucking fight me. You put your own godson in horrible danger on purpose! You killed your best friend! Bastard. 

...And just in case the book wasn’t disturbing enough, Yu’s fate at the end lives in my mind rent-free and I think about it on a concerningly regular basis considering that the chances of that happening to me are so low they’re practically in the negatives. Damn you, Horowitz.

I would also be remiss if I did not mention just how much I love the tagline ‘once bitten, twice spy’.

5. Crocodile Tears

Ah yes, the book that kickstarted my drift away from the church... I kid, of course. I drifted away from the church for completely separate reasons. But Desmond McCain is always going to scare the shit out of me. The ability to kill countless innocent people while blissfully quoting Bible verses (that he takes wildly out of context and uses for his own self-serving means) is... well, I could actually say a lot about what that reminds me of, but I’m here to rate books, not religion. Moving on. This book has some really stellar antagonists, and the plot is chilling in a way that feels a lot more realistic than most of the other books. Even if some of it is a bit farfetched (sabotaging a nuclear power plant? Really?), the idea of using disasters for your own profit... well. I’m sure I don’t need to elaborate on why that is so believable. The Poison Dome is also a really cool and chilling scene--even Alex, who has the luck of the devil, can’t get out of that one unscathed. Further scares come in with the fate of Harold Bulman--imagine having your entire existence wiped and your identity changed while you were asleep! The breakdown he has over it is almost enough to make me feel sorry for him, even though he was ready to exploit a teenager and make his life a living hell just to turn a profit. Note the word almost.

Also. The opening makes me cry. Specifically the line talking about how Ravi’s kids would ‘never meet Mickey Mouse’. I lose my goddamn mind every single time I read it. That little personal touch turns the scene from a statistic to a tragedy. Once again: Damn you, Horowitz.

4. Stormbreaker

Yeah, this one gets the special cover shot. And why not? What we are looking at here is the birth of a legend. Move the fuck over, James Bond, Alex Rider is on the scene now. Anyway, yeah, this book is pretty damn spectacular. It has its stumbles, but as the first book in a series, that’s to be expected. Still, it pulls you in from quite literally the first line and keeps you going right up until the end. (If you came here from my post of memes, you know how much the line ‘Killing is for grownups, and you’re still a child’ destroys me.) It has the debut of much-beloved characters such as, of course, Alex--but also Jack Starbright, and of course, the best MI6 agent of them all, which is to say Smithers. Hell, even Yassen Gregorovich, especially once you get through Russian Roulette... Man, that was a rough one. 

Seriously, though. This is a really good book. The scene with the Portuguese man-o’-war still gives me the chills to think about. (Have you ever looked up pictures of those things? They’re beautiful, but holy shit will they make you regret being born. Nature is funny like that.) 

We also get the introduction of, of course, Alex’s patented sass (his response to Sayle saying he relates to the man-o’-war is HILARIOUS) and we get the inherent humor of Alex screwing up an alias one time and then just going by Alex for the rest of the series so he doesn’t do that again. Really, kid, I know you’re not a trained spy or anything but did you never play pretend growing up? Ever? You can’t pretend your name is Felix for a little while? That sounds like a you problem.

3. Scorpia Rising

I distinctly remember when this book came out, actually. I was on vacation at the time, and I remember my brother annoying the hell out of the poor workers at a bookstore we frequented there to see if/when they were going to get it in. They did, finally, and we bought it immediately, and I was of course absolutely desperate to read it. He got to read it first, though. -_-

This is a great book, an absolute emotional rollercoaster all the way through. The way Blunt tricks Alex back into service by staging a shooting was exactly the kind of cold, brutal behavior I’d expect from him. Seeing Julius come back was shocking, but very exciting, too. And Razim makes an incredibly chilling villain, with his absolute disregard for human life and his desire to measure pain. Also, seeing Smithers’s house was so much fun. Smithers in this book was just really fun in general, but he’s really fun in every book, so... nothing unusual there. But also, I want an unwelcome mat. Please?

2. Eagle Strike

‘But Penny,’ you might ask, ‘why is this book so high on your list? It has so much of Sabina in it, and you said she annoys you.’ That is true. What does not annoy me, however, is basically the entire rest of the book. I love the tense opening, and then reading through Alex’s real-life ‘playthrough’ of Feathered Serpent is still one of my favorite scenes. Cray is absolutely incredible as a villain, with the way that he truly believes in his cause--which is undoubtedly a good one! Yet the extremes to which he will go for that cause, and the fact that he very nearly succeeds, are what elevate him to one of the most dangerous villains in the series. That scene with Charlie Roper and the nickels is something I can never seem to stop thinking about. Actually, I think about it basically whenever I think about large amounts of money paid in small increments... 

Also, I really enjoy how he gets into the whole plot in the first place, and I really enjoy Smithers saying ‘ah, fuck it’ and helping him out anyway. Go, Smithers. You once again prove me right in saying that you’re the coolest adult in MI6.

The revelation that Yassen knew Alex’s father is one that absolutely blew my mind first time around. The way his life was threaded into the lives of the Rider family--he worked with John Rider, was saved by him, killed Ian Rider, and then died for refusing to kill Alex Rider--wow. Wow. It gets to me. It really gets to me. This book is a masterpiece. I heard that it’s going to be what the second season of the TV series is based off of, and I’m so hyped for that. We love to see it, we really do.

1. Scorpia

I don’t believe anyone who says this book didn’t get to them at all. I just think they are lying. I don’t think it’s humanly possible to not be affected by this book. God. Just thinking about it reminds me of why I don’t think it’s possible. I mean, come on. We get all this backstory about Alex’s parents, we get tricked along with him into thinking MI6 killed his father, then bam, that was a lie, and Alex may have just fucked himself over big time. Also, that plot is terrifying! (And I bet anti-vaxxers had a field day with it, huh.) Julia Rothman is a really great antagonist, one of the only ones who didn’t go and explain her plan in great detail to Alex--the fact that she didn’t actually being a plot point was something I personally found pretty clever. In general, this book is... I tend to hate when people say they ‘can’t put it down’ because it’s usually an obvious exaggeration, but that really is how I feel reading it.

And again. If that ending didn’t get to you... Well, I just think you are lying.

[intothewickedwood]

Once Upon A Time Rewatch: 6x14 Page 23

Okay what episode do we have today?

Ah okay, a Regina centric. That’s cool.

Is that the same guard Snow stripped naked in 1x16? Whaaaat?! Just looked it up and it totally is! Awesome call back! I’m going to name him Jim.

Oh my God, she killed Jim!!

Wait, so this has to be after Heart of Darkness.

The terrified look on that woman’s face when Regina strokes her chin, looks at her longingly and tells her she loves her. Omg Regina was in love with this woman all along! It was never about Daniel. It was about Christina! I’m naming her Christina. 

They are my otp now.

How did Tinker Bell get out of neverland? Pan decides when people leave, and I doubt he’d let her leave just to pay a visit with the Evil Queen. But then and again maybe it was all part of his big plan.

Oh. Pixie dust doesn’t dictate who your true love is. It just shows you possibilities. That’s not what you said before, Tinker Bell!

Regina, we all know you spared her because she’s your ex-girlfriend.

Actually, this visit from Tinker Bell is odd because she doesn’t seem angry at all like when she, like, wanted to kill Regina in 3x03. How did she go from, “okay. I lost my wings because of you but it’s all cool. I just want my otp together.” to “I’m gonna f***ing drug you with pixie dust and rip your heart out!”?

Also, this is the Evil Queen I like to see. So cold, terrifying and breaking on the inside. I’m not a fan of the humorous one in 6x02. I wish Split Queen was more like this as well. Ah different writers and director. Interesting.

Split Queen: “…not some burlap-loving peasant who sleeps on dirt.” Wish Robin: “Excuse me, I sleep on hay.” Important distinction!

Snow’s so excited about the wedding, bless her.

Lol Zelena just drags Emma’s hand to look at her ring. My girl loves shiny things! And how could I forget, her otp is getting married! She is in heaven right now!

I love Emma just casually talking to Zelena like they’re gal pals at a sleepover. More of this please! 

I can see what sqers say about this scene. Regina really does look hurt by the notion of Emma getting married. There is no heterosexual reason for her to react like this unless she’s in love with Hook. I think this is the only time they hug. Man, I feel so bad for sqers because upon this rewatch I can really see where they are coming from with that interpretation. It’s definitely there. And then they hug because Emma’s getting married to someone else. I would be so upset if that was my otp. What am I talking about, I watched 10 seasons of Smallville as a hardcore Chloe x Clark shipper. I think this exact scenario played out and it freaking hurts! 

In other news, I am so in love with Snow. Have I mentioned that? I feel like I haven’t mentioned it in a while and it needs to be said. 

I’m also in love with David, in case you forgot. I want to join their marriage. Can I join their marriage? I’m joining their marriage. Emma, I’m your mummy now. Don’t think about the age difference too much. 

I’ve eaten a lot of chocolate already today. Can you tell? I feel so alive! I want to share my social security number and be freeee!! I am trying to block out my anxiety about having to move house again next friday. Yep, that’s right, 4th place in two years. I think I will write all of these high on chocolate.

What would happen if you cut your hair with those sheers? Or your garden bush? No, that is not a euphemism, you dirty bastards (affectionate). 

I haven’t had a haircut in 10 years. Holy cow! That’s why my afro is so big, it’s full of secrets. 

Nemo is your dad now, Hook. Even though I’m pretty sure he’s a lot younger than you. 

He called him “My boy.” hehe.

I remember when I thought Hook and Rumple had the same mother. That would have been quite the twist.

I thought that vase of flowers was a giant cauliflower. Did you know broccoli, cauliflower, cabbages, brussels sprouts and turnips are all related? I wonder what thanksgivings are like when they all get together. Probably not fun for them. 

See what I did there xD? 

Emma: “This is my fault. I’m the one who convinced you to bring him here. It’s on me.” Regina: “Emma, you don’t have anything to make up for. You were just trying to help.” Omg, this compared to when she told Emma she’d ruined her life because Emma saved Marian. The development. I really appreciate this change because I nearly lost it with Regina when that was her attitude. 

Screw it, I’m making bean enchiladas. Brb. I’ll save you some!

I’m back! They’re in the oven. Anyone wants the recipe hmu! They’re veggie! 

You just know Split Queen and Wish Robin have a sexy dungeon in their castle. They just do.

Enchanted ropes would have been useful in so many situations.

The enchiladas are ready! Repeat after me, Becky: “I will remember oven gloves this time, I will remember oven gloves this time.”

Robin is so into Split Queen. He wants her to live with him and everything, even though they just met. 

I don’t think that arrow would have taken her to Robin since it takes her to the thing she loves most. She can’t love someone she’s never met. We all know it would shoot Christina right in the ass. That’s true love biatches! Evil Peasant 5ever!

Oh snap! Emma found Hook looking at himself killing her grandfather??! I completely forgot about this!

Why does she say, “That’s David’s father”? Why doesn’t she say, “That’s my grandfather,” or “That’s my dad’s dad”? She hasn’t called her dad ‘David’ in years. It’s like she’s trying to separate herself from the victim as much as possible.

She’s not even a little bit upset he killed her dad’s dad? That that event caused her father so much pain? She’s just infuriated that he tried to burn his memory. I mean, yes, she should be angry about that but where’s the empathy for her dad at least? I didn’t know any of my grandfathers well but if I found out I was engaged to someone who did that I would be angry for my grandparent, angry for my parent and angry for myself. I’m just speechless that that’s all she cares about. It seems so out of character. But then and again Regina had her other grandad killed. 

And now he’s gonna leave because he rightfully got told off. Can’t say I’d offer the same thing but she said, “until you’re ready” not “you’ll never be ready”, dude. 

I think he’s just scared David will punch him in the face at this point. It’s the only explanation for doing the exact opposite thing Emma asked of him.

“Captain Hook is always welcome on the Nautilus.” More like welcome on the naughty list after that stunt.

She doesn’t want a man, Henry Sr. She just confessed her deep, passionate, sexual love for Christina like 20 minutes ago, remember? Sometimes I wonder why I bother. It’s not even subtext, dude. Get it together, man.

Why don’t they fight themselves with magic?

Her dad is so heartbroken the person Regina hates most is herself. 

That is really sad that the person she hates most his herself. I can relate.

Yes! Launch those apples at yourself! 

My conversations with myself be like-

Oh boy. This is too reminiscent of conversations with myself. Yes, I sword fight myself wearing a fancy black, cleavage-revealing dress in my head all the time. Only joking, I wear trilby hats. 

Oh okay. Now they’re tying each other up. I see what this is really about. I still haven’t bleached the “we do like it rough, don’t we Regina?” line from my mind. 

I suppose she did take back some of her own darkness. But I was hoping she would just merge herself back together. That would have been a really predictable outcome, but I just would have preferred it. 

This scene is so weird lol, but it helped me tremendously. I used to hate myself so, so much. You don’t even understand. It was like a violent hatred for myself for not fitting in and for every single little mistake I’d ever made. Then with a lot of self- healing and the help of this episode I began my journey into loving myself. I wrote on a sticky note “Love yourself. If the Evil Queen can do it, so can you.” and stuck it to my wall. Nothing I’ve done is comparable to what the Evil Queen has done and if she can learn to love herself, why can’t everyone else. Anyone who’s struggling with self-hatred, please take this episode to heart. You are worthy of love, most importantly from yourself. Any time you find yourself hating yourself just try to remember this scene and that the flipping Evil Queen of all people recognised the importance of self-love and didn’t give a damn what anyone else thought. She damn well gave herself a chance. I’ve heard a good technique is looking in the mirror and telling yourself what you love about you. Even if you’re not feeling it at first, you could get into the habit of it and your brain will start to accept those words as true. Because they are true.

Aww she sees the Charmings as her family. 

Regina: “it did give me hope when I needed it most, and that is just as important.” Oh my God, preach the word Regina! Regina is preaching with fire today! 

It’s like she’s having a therapy session with herself. I need to do that. I really do. Then I need to get actual therapy lol xD. But baby steps! 

Okay. A loophole as to how he can change Split Queen’s story. You know what, at this point I’ve learnt just to go with it.

Can Snow and Zelena be best friends? Please. It’s literally all I want in life. And to join Snowing’s marriage. I’m not asking for much. I’ll talk about it in self-therapy.

Henry’s got Gideon’s haircut now. He wants to be cool like his uncle.

I want to look at myself with the love and adoration Regina looks at herself with. We should all get to that point where we look like we’re about to intensely make out with ourselves when we look in the mirror. 

I know what they were doing with page 23. I just wish Split Queen had changed her outfit so it could have been exactly like the page illustration. But I don’t think it was meant to predict the future. It was just one of Isaac’s fanfictions, wasn’t it? Hmm. I think it was a mystery to him as well if I can remember correctly.

It’s nice that oq shippers got their ship in the end in one form.

Snow is just constantly high up to her eyeballs on hope, bless her. 

Emma needs a dog. She seems like such a dog person.

Also, that enchilada was yumilicious, if I do say so myself.

[tanoraqui]

[previous]

so right here is probably where you get your obligatory “Wild Hunt follows our hero back to the human realm, forcing them to go on a high-stakes, high-speed chase with their romantic interest as their (fantasy, no cars involved) driver.” Tylweth Tyg Lan Wangji, flying yarrow stalk, clinging tightly together, natch.

their goal is the Duchy of Butchers’ Hill. They probably crash-land in a courtyard

quick history of Butchers’ Hill: a merlin so lowly she had a job in the human world as a butcher, before she saved a monarch’s live and so earned the use of a Hope Chest, and through further service, a duchy. In the face of lingering scorn, she named her new demesne after her mortal career, because fuck you

the current duke, Nie Mingjue, is Tuatha de Danaan through and through, child of happily divorced parents - well, one’s dead, now - because it was an amiable political marriage and his mother had a barony to inherit on a different continent

however his brother and heir, Nie Huaisang, had. Daoine Sidhe mother (everyone knows, though she more or less wandered in one day and left a few years later when she’d stopped her dancing). He has fine Tuatha features, but his hair is the dark dark red of a cursed rose, his eyes are yellow rather than copper, his magic is scented of roses as well as Nie stone. He’s never been able to open a portal. His mother was sickly, they say, and something went wrong in the childbirth; she recovered, but not for long

their goal today is not the duke but in fact his younger brother. “Wei-xiong!” Nie Huaisang says cheerfully, with the air of someone who’s about to get some ~gossip~. “And Lan-er-gongzi! It’s good to see you! You look like you need a drink.”

Lan Wangji accepts tea, Wei Wuxian accepts wine, and takes a deep sniff - not of the wine. He cuts through the burgeoning small talk. “Nie-xiong, your mother wasn’t a Daoine Sidhe.”

(if I was writing this properly, I would’ve foreshadowed this with more recent historical context, with descriptions of everyone’s magical scents at that first confrontation in Glamour Hall. Suffice to say: his magic smells like his grandmother’s)

“...No,” Nie Huaisang says, after a particularly long sip of wine. “She wasn’t.” He leans forward, because if they’re doing real gossip, then they’re doing real gossip. “Neither was yours, right?”

“Ah, busted,” says Wei Wuxian. “So, can you open a Rose Road?

Hold up, you might ask at this juncture. How does he know about that? Did Captain Pete tell him? For that matter, he knew his exact relation to her - Toby didn’t know this stuff, circa her own fight with Blind Michael! What gives?

Well, here’s the story...

Wei Wuxian is already feeling pretty shit, wandering the streets of Yiling with magic overuse ache like he’s been run over by a tractor, which needless to say is the only reason Wen Chao gets the jump on him

the Burial Mounds is an abandoned iron mine. I think Wen Chao shoots him, first, too, with, like, a gattling gun full of shards of iron (please don’t ask about the technology level of this setting). Anyway, it’s an obvious death sentence. A cruel, slow death sentence, iron poisoning with a fun side dose of, like, broken limbs from being dropped down a mineshaft. Wen Chao laughs and leaves; Wei Wuxian lies here in agony and waits to die

Except...he doesn’t

and then he continues to not

or maybe he does, or comes as close as makes no difference, and wakes up again anyway?

the first time that happens, the Night Haunts arrive. expectantly. There’s only room for a couple of them, and they won’t stay long because of all the iron, but they do their duty; they come for the body

But the body is still living

hallucinating, a little

definitely he assumes the night haunts are a hallucination, at first

he starts talking to them, and eventually, they talk back (maybe one who wears the face of one of the Lotus Lakes squires).

it’s not in the night haunts’ nature to aid the dying but it is acceptable to wait with them, and trade stories with them, or perhaps simply give them, as a parting mercy...

but it’s not parting. For three months, the Night Haunts take shifts perching on the few iron-free spots in this hole in the ground and waiting for Wei Wuxian to die, and letting. him coax them into telling stories with memories as old as Faerie. He needs something to focus on other than the pain - and thirst and hunger, when he remember them. He does his best to pick shards of iron out of his skin, passes out and would die save for the power in his blood, and wakes up and picks out more iron. “Liar’s child”, they call him, and enjoy talking to someone living once more. 

Eventually, he gains enough strength to start crawling, climbing, falling, pushing himself up and crawling again towards the exit.* Eventually, he breaks into the open air again, rolls over on clean grass and turns his head sideways to spit a last (for now) mouthful of blood.

He keeps some of the iron scraps. He forges them into points for his new trident, the Wens having confiscated his old one. He introduces Wen Chao to it a couple months later.

[fastforward out of the flashback!noises]

“I caaan,” Nie Huaisang says reluctantly, tapping his fingers on his wine glass. “But it’s really hard and I’m not very good at directing them, and you just want to use it to help a Wen.”

(here’s more history of Butchers’ Hill: not long after his second wife passed away, the old duke was elfshot. The poison in it was slow-acting; only after several decades did he start to fail. This turned out to be a mistake on King Wen Ruohan’s part, because it meant Nie Mingjue had had time to grow in his own power and military experience. the Sunshot Campaign began not long thereafter)

(there were arguments for Nie Mingjue to take the crown of Golden Sun, after, but it was Jin Guangshan’s changeling who killed Wen Ruohan, and the Daoine Sidhe are ever hungrier than the Tuatha de Danaan)

“I’ll owe you one,” Wei Wuxian promises. “If you want, I can even shift your blood to one side or the other - I can’t imagine it’s comfortable, being half-plant, half-mammal.”

(it’s an honest offer, not a threat. But also: Wen Zhuliu died in agony, at the hands of the Yiling Patriarch. Rebalancing the blood hurts more than anything in the world, except maybe 3 months of death by iron poisoning.)

“I don’t think so,” Nie Huaisang says consideringly. “I mean, yes, it’s terrible sometimes but...could I claim the favor for someone else, if they agree to it?”

“If you can get me on a road to Blind Michael’s realm and back, sure. You don’t need to worry about aiming me.” He flips a compass out of his pocket, 

once again: do I need o dwell on Blind Michael’s dark realm, night without the hope of moon or stars? There’s running, there’s chasing, there’s fighting...rather more fighting than Toby, actually. As established: the Yiling Patriarch isn’t popularly called a Hero (yet), but he is known for his bloody battlefields.

There’s negotiating. Blind Michael is predictably cruel; Wen Ning is sitting at the foot of his throne like a dog, though he hasn’t grown much more than fur and sharp teeth. So far. Wei Wuxian bargains one soul for another and presses rose-wrapped candle and compass into his friend’s already-less-paw-like hands, whispers, “Think of your sister and follow it. Tell her we’re even. Don’t look back, accept any help you’re offered but not ask for it, and you have...” He checks his watch. “About 2 hours.”

He watches Wen Ning go - for a moment. Until Blind Michael calls, “Take him,” and someone hits him very hard on the back of the head, and the empty sky swallows him up.

TBC

[twolonesomestars]

Loved your post on the necklace!! I was also very surprised at xz's reaction that day, and the way that he was trying to touch yb, you could see him reaching yb with his arm and then pulling back (maybe because wdx was all over yb trying to get the necklace off) but it was v clear how worried xz was. I can't help but look for the necklace everytime new pics of yb are released, and i noticed that lately he hasn't been wearing it and i hope everything is okay with them.

Love your post about the necklace! Now I just need him to wear it again or I don’t know what I’m gonna do lol. Been like 3 weeks now.

Ahh! Thank you for all the support~~ ❤️

Oh yes! It does seem like XZ wanted to get the necklace off of WYB himself but managed to keep control at the last second. (Don’t mind me, just gonna be more delulu than usual: I love how he uses the chance to somewhat graze WYB’s neck when he’s explaining to the girl what happened… & WYB just leans into too)

Now that you mentioned WDX, I’m reminded of the jealousy in the episode... XZ is hella scary when he’s jealous. I love it! His glare at WDX & slightly at WYB when they ended up tangled on the floor is just *chef’s kiss* lol

But yeah, XZ’s actions were just so out of character (or so in character if we’re talking personal life) that day. Reminds me a bit of Weibo Night tbh

-

Ah yes the case of the recent /missing/ necklace... You guys are so adorable with your concern ;; (dw I get it)

The main thing I’m looking at here is that WYB’s been running around like a crazy man (even more so than usual) the last few weeks: filming for SDOC3, DDU, BAH, and his 23 endorsements. He can’t wear his necklace to most of these things and he seems to have shootings one after another, so I wouldn’t exactly blame him for opting out of putting the necklace on just to take it off in like 30 minutes. (He’s more likely to lose it if he did that anyway.) Correct me if I’m wrong, but I also don’t think he’s had too many non-official appearances recently (I’m only remembering the pics of when he was leaving SDOC3 & DDU filming). Since it was only two super short appearances, I wouldn’t be too concerned...

From what I could tell, he didn’t wear the necklace during SDOC3 filming. And, I think there have been a few episodes of DDU where he didn’t wear the necklace...? It may have just been hidden really well (which could also be the case for the latest filming) or he actually didn’t wear it. ...Or, most likely, I just missed it completely lol

-

But, to ease our hearts a bit, let’s talk about a new clue /potentially/ from our lovely didi.

Beware we’re treading even deeper into the CPN world:

WYB’s Weibo post about Let’s Sacalaca on 200704 has kadian: 13:10 = “only you [for my] whole life”

The message in the post was intended to promote the episode for that day and get his fans to watch it live, but oddly enough he posted it after the show began airing @ 12:00 and pretty much as it was going to end.

Also, now that the fake candy about the phone call and water-ski heart seems to be not-so-fake anymore, the timing of the post reinforces who it’s meant to be for ;)

-

I’m sure they’re doing just fine. Trust in them and in their love~

-

(The next official and non-brand related sighting we should get of WYB is at the SDOC3 press conference on the 12th. Hopefully he’ll ease these worries fully then.)

[mhdiaries]

Wave 3 Toralei Stripe Diary

July. Two. Five.

Ooh they’re telling math jokes now...

Q: What do you get if you divide the circumference of a jack-o-lantern by its diameter?

A: Pumpkin Pi!

The math geeks I’m stuck on this bus with think that this is funny. So funny in fact, that the harpy sitting in front of me shoots milk out of her nose when she hears the punch line. I don’t think it’s funny at all. I’d rather be listening to the music I have stored on my iCoffin but two hours into our five-hour ride home my iCoffin gave up the ghost. It should have lasted the whole trip and then some except that one of my math camp roomies “accidentally” unplugged my iCoffin charger last night when she plugged in her fright light. I don’t even know why a ghost needs a fright light. What? Was she afraid she would trip over something and go “bump in the night?” I realized what happened when we woke up this morning but we had to leave first thing so I didn’t have time to put a full charge on it. At least I got enough battery life to block out the two hours dedicated to the singing of “X Number Bottles of Ghoul Juice on the Wall.” To add to the misery the seats on this bus only have room for two monsters and Meowlody and Purrsephone are of course sitting together which left me stuck in a seat next to a troll named Teala who had never been away from her bridge for more than a day until she came to math camp.She cried herself to sleep every night. Not that any other monster but me noticed but then again I notice everything. I also noticed Teala wasn’t laughing at any of the math jokes either. In fact she seemed to be more miserable than I was. Well now, here I was thinking she was missing her bridge but if that were the case why didn’t she seem excited about going home? “Dish,” I said. She turned and looked at me for a moment and then stared back ahead. “Okay - suit yourself then,” I said and then tried to curl up in the seat to take a cat nap which I had almost accomplished when she said; “My boy-fiend broke up with me...by text...the first night of math camp.” She still wasn’t looking at me but she wasn’t crying either. “He was my first real boyfriend and...and I don’t know why I’m telling you ‘cause you don’t seem to care about any monster besides yourself and you’ll probably figure out a way to use this to make me even more miserable.” I didn’t show it, but that really hurt. Just because I enjoy the chaos that a good practical joke brings doesn’t mean that I’m intentionally cruel does it? I don’t think it does and besides; where’s the fun of kicking some monster when they’re already down? It’s a lot more fun to see the surprise on a monster’s face when they think they’ve got it all together and you can “help them” see that they don’t. So I said, “Guess you better tell me the whole story then so I can do a thorough job.” That actually brought a ghost of a smile to her face. Teala told me that her ex boy-fiend was applying to colleges and that he decided he needed to keep his “options open” in case he might meet his “intellectual equal” at school. At first I didn’t believe he actually wrote that and then she showed me the text. “Does he really think he’s that smart,” I asked. She kind of shrugged and said, “He’s scary smart but not as good at math as I am, especially withy differential equations.” She told me he really wanted to get into this one school because his favorite mad scientist taught there. I’d never heard of the school but I knew who the mad scientist was because Mr. Hack made use watch a bunch of his videos in class. The videos were deadly boring but the mad scientist had this odd accent and strange speech pattern. I used to mimic his voice in class to make Mr. Hack jump. I’d wait until Mr. Hack’s back was turned and then scream, “Huhhacckkk - theeese stuuudannts reeelease youuu wuh-ill ah-yuat wa-unce!” It cost me several days in detention and a trip to Headless Headmistress Bloodgood’s office the last time I mimicked the mad scientist but even Mr. Hack admitted he couldn’t tell the difference between the scientist’s voice and my imitation of it. We talked about a few more things and then Teala finally fell asleep. I was able to finally fall asleep as well but not before having to hear another math joke followed by an explosion of milk from the seat in front of me.

July. Two. Eight.

I went to MH today to pick up some pictures I left in the FearBook office. When I was done I went up to the belfry. It’s a good place to keep an eye on things without other eyes watching you. It’s also a good place to take a nap. Usually the hunchback who rings the bells...the bells...works up there but he was on summer vacation in France or somewhere so I had the place to myself; until Spectra came floating through that is. She thinks that she’s very stealthy but it’s almost impossible to sneak up on me and I heard the rattle of her chains long before she actually appeared. I pretended to be asleep for a moment then with my eyes still closed I said, “What do you want Spectra?” “Oh, hello Toralei. Did you hear the news?” Most monsters don’t trust anything they hear from Spectra. I know better. There’s always an element of truth in her “news”. You just need to know how to listen. Here’s an example; Spectra told me she heard that Nefera is moving back to town and will be taking over for Ms. Kindergruber in Home Ick. Not only that but Ms. Kindergruber is also going to quit teaching to become a roadie for her favorite rock and roll band. Now as much fun as it is to imagine Ms. K. climbing stacks of amps while wearing a sleeveless leather vest, bandana and steel toed boots it’s not going to happen. Although when compared to the thought of Nefera actually “lowering herself” to teach, it’s practically a done deal Ms K will be hitting the road. I’m pretty sure out of that confusing jumble of information the one true fact is that Nefera is moving back to town and probably sooner rather than later...now there’s a monster who enjoys kicking some body when it’s down.

July. Three. Zero.

Got an email today from Teala, the troll girl I sat with on the ride home from math camp. Apparently her ex boy-fiend told her that he got a call from the mad scientist he wanted to study under. The scientist told her ex that his test scores indicated a “skuhh-ill weeeakness in diffuhh-wrenntial eeeequay-shunns” and that her ex should find some monster that was intellectually superior and “geeet sah-ummm tuutorr-ing”. Her ex was certain it was the professor since “no monster could fake that voice.” He also apologized to Teala for being an arrogant jerk and asked if she would tutor him in differential equations. Teala told him that she would have to check her schedule. Sometimes it is just purrrecious the way things work out for the beast.

August. One. Three.

I bought a ball of dragon thread today for Sweet Fangs. It’s just about the only material that’s strong enough to survive more than one play session with her. I don’t know what I’m going to do when Sweet Fangs gets bigger because I’m probably going to need the whole dragon and I’m not sure mom and dad are gong to be good with that.

August. Two. Five.

M&P came over today. They’re like my sisters and I can’t imagine how boring unlife would be without them. We do just about everything together and some monsters even think we’re related but we’re not. Not that it matters since we don’t really care what other monsters think anyway. We are who we are and any monster or monsters that want to try and herd us better get ready for a long miserable day. Today we weren’t worried about being herded, today was a brainstorm session. Our mission, repay Cleo de Nile and her minions for not only ruining our perfectly planned graduation prank but also for taking away part of our valuable summer vacation by “arranging” our trip to math camp. Knowing that it was Cleo who got the better of us is almost as irritating as being wet or having my fur stroked the wrong way. I can’t believe that I actually helped her when she first wanted to be a part of the Fear Squad. Cleo didn’t even know how to do a cartwheel, much less a round off. So I took her under my claw and taught her everything I knew and since I’d been doing gymnastics from the time I was a kitten I knew a lot. I finally got Cleo to the point where she started to “get it” and instead of being a liability she started contributing. I figured that for all my hard work and leadership Nefera would make me the Fear Squad captain when she graduated. Only she didn’t - she passed it onto Cleo. I can still remember what Nefera said to me when I confronted her about it. “I didn’t want Cleo to succeed - I wanted her to be humiliated but since you helped her, you get to deal with the consequences.” Then Cleo acted as if she deserved to be the captain and that she automatically knew everything there was to know about leading the Fear Squad. She should have showed some humility and stepped aside. She didn’t so now it’s up to me to teach her some new lessons and I can’t wait for class to be back in session.  

August. Three. One.

There’s a meteor shower tonight, which will give us the purrrfect opportunity to practice the three D’s. Divert. Design. Demure. First I divert attention away from myself - although tonight the meteor shower should do that for me, next I design a “surprise” for my intended victim student and then after the unexpected happens I demure - “Oh my, what happened here?” More later...

Ended up scraping the three D’s tonight, mostly because the meteor shower diverted me. I was supposed to meet M&P at this coffee shop down close to the beach - it’s the only time I go to the beach since sand + water + fur = unhappy werecat - but they were late so I grabbed a catnipuccino and waited. The owner turned down the lights of the shop so it was almost dark and then the sky was falling. The ghouls showed up just as somewhere down the beach a monster started playing guitar and I said, “Just because we’ve got nine lives doesn’t mean we need to rush through this one.” And we didn’t. 

[haziel-luz]

Will It Be the Same?

Chapter 2: Living Nightmare   (Lucifer x Reader)

Ella enters the precinct all ready and focused. Lucifer being with you eased her mind. She knows he’s a good guy at heart despite his ‘devilish’ charms. Chloe smiles at Ella, relaxing her shoulders a bit.

“Thanks for coming by Ella, I just really needed you. You were probably doing something important.” Chloe looked at her apologetically. Ella smiled at her and patted her back.

“Don’t worry Decker, I was actually gonna come here with my scientific partner. I told her to go to lunch first and she said she’ll bring me something to eat. So we are all good.” Ella takes out the file for Chloe’s case evidence and brings it on the table for her to see. Spreading out the papers on the table in front of them.

“Do you know where Lucifer is?” Chloe asked a little hesitantly. Ella looked at her and remembered what Lucifer asked from her.

“Oh he’s with my best friend, I told him to take her for lunch since she doesn’t have a ride and I had an emergency. Did you want me to tell him to come down?” Ella asked, tilting her head.

“Ah no, that won’t be necessary.” Chloe smiled and dismissed it. Ella can’t walk on eggshells around them. They’re pretty frustrating to keep together. One minute they’re cool friends, then lovers, and lastly in an argument that they can’t seem to figure out. It’s basically a cycle at this point.

“Alright Decker, what’s going on? You and Lucifer have been distant and it was really awkward at the crime scene yesterday.” Ella questioned and Chloe didn’t know how to respond.

“W-Well, I know we have our ups and downs but I just..don’t know. Lucifer and I ‘hooked up’ in his penthouse. I thought it would be time that we did, considering everything we went through together.”  Chloe slowly explained and Ella listened and raised her eyebrow.

“You guys did it?? Wait, are you trying to say that you didn’t like it?” Ella's excitement quickly faded away. Chloe shifted from one foot to another while biting her lip.

“Um, it was nice. It just didn’t make me feel complete..I think maybe it’s just that he’s so used to getting in bed with women that he doesn’t know how to ‘make love’. I mean when I woke up all he had was a shit eating grin asking me ‘How was it’.” Chloe mimicked his british accent and looked down at the evidence. Ella hissed at the detail she spilled ‘Damn dude.’

“Maybe, and I’m just making a suggestion here, maybe you should show him how to ‘make love’. Just surprise him tonight with a cute outfit and make sure he does everything out of love.” Ella shrugs with a smile and pulls out the photos of the crime scene. Chloe stays silent for a bit and slowly nods with a smile.

“You're right, he’s been a one time fling for so long that he doesn’t know how to keep it steady for one person. Thanks Ella.” Chloe smiles and goes back to work.

“Yeah no probs.” Ella smiles back at her.

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

“Mind if I ask some questions darling? This devil has just been curious about who you are.” Lucifer smiles while eating a fry. He’s been really nice to you and you were surprised to even get the courage to talk to a stranger.

“Go ahead and shoot.” You smile and bite your burger. The burger at this place is perfect.

“Just wondering how Ella hasn’t mentioned you during the time we’ve known her. Anything she’s ashamed to talk about? Oh, and please don’t skip the dirty details?” Lucifer grins and takes a sip of his drink. You laugh after you take a sip of your drink.

“Sorry to disappoint you but we’re not in a relationship like that. We’ve just been best friends for a very long time and she really hasn’t mentioned you guys either. You seem to have a lot of character to you. I’m surprised she hasn’t told me anything about you.” Your smile bloomed on your face and you haven’t smiled like that for the past year.

“That I do my dear, and I’m rather hurt she hasn’t mentioned anything about me.” Lucifer feigns his hurt expression and sighs in disappointment. “Although I can always make up for it.” Lucifer smirks and you chuckle while shaking your head.

“You are so persistent Mr.Morningstar.” You smile and playfully roll your eyes.

“Please call me Lucifer, darling, the formalities are long overdue.” Lucifer's smile spread and you smiled back with a nod.

“I’m gonna throw this away and order Ella’s lunch, we need to get going before she gets worried sick.” You get up from your seat and collect the empty wrappers and cup on your tray.

“Right, I almost forgot that Ms. Lopez has important matters to attend to.” Lucifer also stood up to help you clean up and throw them in the trash. You go to the line again to order your best friend's meal and grab the bag to go.

You and Lucifer exit the fast food restaurant and enter his classy vehicle. Lucifer has felt relaxed the entire time he was with you and hasn’t gotten the chance to use his favorite trick. Now he really wants to know what you truly desire. Maybe it will tell him more about who she is.

You shift in your seat and cross one leg over the other, making you look fancy in his vehicle. Lucifer tried his best to keep his eyes on the road. The way your skirt slid up revealing that it’s a thigh high stocking hiding that precious skin. You were just thinking to yourself and closed your eyes to feel the wind.

‘Very naughty (Y/n). Sitting in a man's vehicle that way can get you into trouble, darling.’ You instantly heard Lucifer’s thought’s by accident and looked down at yourself. You should’ve worn pants. You uncrossed your legs and smoothed your skirt down, making sure he doesn’t see anything during the ride. ‘Oh don’t hide them now darling, I was just enjoying the view.’ Lucifer’s thoughts still entered your mind and you blushed while looking away. Why did this have to happen now? ‘A little lower and I probably would’ve-’

“How about some music?” You intervene his thoughts from going further and he straightens his posture by the sudden sound of your voice.

“I don’t see why not.” Lucifer turns on the music and you both listen to the songs he listens to. You're trying to control your mind more than focusing on the music. The music was more like a distraction for you to focus more on other things than his thoughts. This was always a pain in the ass for you. You focus on your breathing and close your eyes, making sure you have an empty mind. You put up a shield again to make sure you don’t let anyone's thought slip into yours. This is the first time it happened, and you guess that there’s still some things you need to improve.

You guys arrive at the precinct with a bag of food in your hands. Hearing anyone’s thoughts? Nope, so far so good. Not even Lucifer's thoughts have been entering your mind. You smile at your accomplishment. Lucifer opens the door to the lab and you step in while holding the bag higher.

“Is my special person still hungry?” You smiled and Ella's eyes widened excitedly.

“Yes! I’m starving, I love you so much!” Ella quickly grabs the bag and hugs you close.

“Who’s this?” A female voice asked. You didn’t notice that there was another person in the room. You followed the voice and found a blonde woman with a bun, who looked pretty and professional.

“This is (Y/n), the one I was talking about, and (Y/n) this is Chloe Decker, the detective and one of the best.” Ella introduces us with her arm around yours.

“Nice to meet you Detective Decker.” You held out your hand and smiled, while she did the same.

“Nice to meet you too (Y/n). So, Ella tells me that you're gonna help her in the lab?” She smiles at you.

“Oh yea, thanks to her I had a good recommendation and the interview went well.” You smiled at your friend in appreciation.

“Aww chucks, you're making me blush.” Ella gives you a wink while putting her food on the counter.

“Well I’m excited to see what you can solve alongside Ella.” Chloe smiles politely. Her eyes meet Lucifer and look back at the evidence. “At least now that you're here, maybe I should leave to let Ella give you some tutorials on how things are around here. I’m gonna check out this address right here.” Chloe picks up the enhanced photo and leaves the room while giving you a smile.

“You see that? She’s even been avoiding me.” Lucifer huffs while Ella takes a bite on her french fry.

“Dude you really can’t blame her. I mean, ‘How was it’, really?” Ella rolls her eyes and Lucifer looks taken back.

“Am I supposed to be present for this?” You asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Trust me, you're gonna be hearing stuff like this in the lab. Better now than never.” Ella pats your arm and puts away the papers in a file.

“She told you about that?...Well? Did she like it or not Ms.Lopez, a devil like me needs honest details.” Lucifer ignores what we said and goes to Ella.

“Lucifer, she’ll tell you later. Just try not to ask that again, makes it feel like you only liked the sex part.” Ella responds a bit dryly and you felt your stomach twist a bit hearing that. Lucifer had someone else and moments ago he was thinking dirty things about you. It’s not like you were expecting a prince charming, just someone to relate to. Right?

“Have you not met me? Of course I loved it, but no matter. I can sacrifice to wait a while longer for my answer.” Lucifer sighs and sits on a stool. Ella moves to the cabinet and hands me gloves to start my training. You stood next to her with some mixed feelings towards a new friend.

“Now, maybe you should go help Chloe since you both are partners. I’m gonna start showing (Y/n) the do’s and don’t of working here.” Ella tells Lucifer while opening the computer.

“Do I have to? Maybe I can give (Y/n) a tour of the precinct when you're done, which I’m sure won’t be long.” Lucifer suggested with a pleading look towards Ella.

“Actually Lucifer, I didn’t have a chance to catch up with Ella. It was really nice meeting you but I’m gonna dedicate this day for this one.” You smiled towards him. Ella smiled and pat Lucifer's back reassuringly.

“You heard the woman. Up you go Luce, a lot of gossiping needs to be done here.” Ella ushers him out of the lab while Lucifer tries to protest. Ella shuts the door locked and sighs in relief. “He always needs a little push. Now, on to our little tour of the place.”

“You mean ‘starting the tour’ after you eat.” You stated and Ella shuts the blinds and smirks.

“You know me so well. I need my energy and I couldn’t do that with some drama around.” Ella takes out her food and enjoys it with sparkling eyes. You couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of your best friend.

Ella has given you the whole tour of the place, especially her do’s and don’t list. This place seems like a pretty good start. Sure, there were things you wanted to tell Ella so badly, but how would she begin to comprehend everything that’s happened to you. She might think you're crazy or a little paranoid. Maybe it’s best to ignore it and keep quiet.

You filled a cup of coffee for you and Ella, then proceeded to go straight to the lab. Slowly opening the door, you saw Ella talking to a nerdy-like girl with glasses and a shoulder length hair cut. The conversation seemed secretive because she was whispering while the other girl was talking normally.

“Is everything alright Els?” You walked to the counter and put the cups down. Ella quickly turned around and acted like she was doing nothing.

“(Y/N)! Everything’s alrighty. I was just talking to myself about what I should to about…” Ella looked around and reached for the test tube behind the girl. “This! You see, Decker needs this examined as soon as possible.” Ella turned back around with her back towards the girl who just looks unaffected by all this.

You raised an eyebrow at her suspiciously. ‘Alrighty? Test tube? Hold on, where did this girl come from? Wait, did Ella just say she was talking to herself?’ You didn’t know what to wrap your head around first so you tried to go along with it.

“Okay...I was only asking because you were whispering to her. I didn’t think that the test tube was involved, but I can do some tests on it if you want me to.” You say, looking at her and the girl a little hesitantly. You're unsure what to ask first so you just went with trying to help Ella with whatever she needed.

“Wait, did you just say ‘her’?” Ella pointed at you and then pointed at the girl. “And you...can see her?” Ella’s eyes were a bit wider.

“Ella, you're acting like she’s supposed to be invisible, of course I can see her. I’m sorry but who are you?” You turned from Ella to the other girl, who at this point seemed more shocked than surprised.

“Oh, uh- me? My name is Ray Ray, I’m actually just a friend of Ella. I was just about to leave, it was nice meeting you tho.” Ray Ray nervously left more shocked than Ella was frozen in her place. You turned back to Ella and waved your hand in front of your face.

“Uh, Earth to Ella? What was that all about? Are you good?” You looked at her confused and concerned. Obviously something strange is going on and you just wanted answers. Ella made eye contact with you and blurted out a strange question.

“Can you see ghosts?” She breathed out as if she was holding the air in her lungs from the shock she had. You frown, now completely confused at her question. ‘Where is she going with this?’

“No Ella, I can’t see gho- what does that question have to do with anything that just happened?” You’re getting a little frustrated now and began drinking your coffee. She turned to the blinds and closed them again, even opened the door to check if anyone was gonna come in. You stared at her waiting for an explanation no matter how frustrated you are. The coffee burning your tongue was helping to keep you from showing your frustration.

“(Y/n)...” Ella began and leaned against the counter trying to keep her composure. “..I can see ghosts, a-and Ray Ray is one..” She looked at you waiting for a reaction. You blinked and thought about it for a second, processing what she’s saying.

“Uh, okay..? How long have you been able to see ghosts?” You questioned your nervous friend. Now you're more worried that these new abilities have caused you to see ghosts as well. The last thing you need is a spirit yelling for help while you were sleeping. It’s bad enough that you have to control your mind from reading everyone else’s thoughts.

“Since I was in the car accident, I saw her and I thought she was just there by coincidence..” She explains and you instantly had a flashback of how much you cried knowing that your best friend could’ve gone straight to heaven at any moment. Your expression softened and you suddenly felt guilty from being frustrated.

“Then when I noticed that people couldn’t see her, I thought she was just an imaginary friend, but when that phase hasn’t passed..she revealed that she was a ghost and I believed her. At the time I felt special, but then I felt delusional because it wasn’t normal.” Ella avoided your gaze and your heart broke. ‘All this time...and she never told me.’

“Oh Ella..why didn’t you say anything?” You sighed and pulled her close for a hug. Ella quickly wrapped her arms around you for a tighter hug.

“Cause I didn’t want you to think I was crazy. You’re the only amazing friend I have, and I didn’t want to risk it.” Ella sniffed and pulled away wiping her tears. You chuckled at her assumption while shaking your head. “What’s so funny?” She asked with a slight frown.

“We’ve both been keeping secrets, and to think we promised each other to be an open book relationship.” You explained and it was her turn to look at you confused.

“What secret are you keeping? I already noticed that you could see ghosts.” Ella frowned a bit. She thought that maybe you can finally tell her what you’ve been through during your disappearance.

“Lately, I’ve been hearing voices, and not the spirit kind. It’s more like reading people's thoughts.” You explained calmly to make sure she followed. Ella blinks and starts processing what you just confessed but kinda had a hard time believing. ‘Ray-Ray did say that she’s not mentally crazy, nor that well either…’ You couldn’t help but actually read her mind because the silence was too awkward.

“Mentally crazy huh.” You hid the grin when her eyes went wide. The abilities you’ve developed did come in handy, and who says you can’t use it for fun. You crossed your arms and pretended to look offended.

“N-No! That’s not what I meant.” Ella blurted out and tried not to have a mental breakdown. ‘Holy crap! Can you hear what I’m saying now? What about now? Now??’ She was using her head desperately, like testing a microphone.

“Yes I can hear you Els.” You laughed while her surprised face became one who went into shock. Ella sat in the stool defeated and had her mouth open, wanting to say something but didn't know what to say first. ‘H-how-? What..’

“This happened during my disappearance. I...well let’s just say that this was the result of it. I know you have so many questions but once I’ve dealt with my demons, I’ll tell you everything.” You put your hands on top of her and gave her a small smile. You know that she cares for you deeply, but you couldn’t give her the burden of your trauma.

Ella stood back up and hugged you tightly. “I’m just happy that we’re both weird together.” Her comment made you laugh with her. “But is the mind reading thing gonna be a problem to control, cause I gotta warn you that I get pretty active in there.” Ella asked, pulling back from the hug.

“No, it’s not. I’ve been controlling it so far. God forbid I accidentally see your wet dreams. I don’t wanna know your fantasies.” You laughed when she hit your arm playfully.

‘Yeah..Things are gonna get better.’

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

“Azrael? What the bloody hell are you doing here? Shouldn't you be doing father’s errands?” Lucifer looked perplexed at his young sister. Maze was unaffected by the angel's appearance, but gave her a nod while drinking.

“Lucifer, we got a problem..” Azrael fidgeted in her spot while observing Lucifer pouring a drink.

“Whatever it is, it should be father's problem to fix.” Lucifer shrugged and downed his drink with a swig.

“I guess it would but um- theoretically, if a human has gone through some traumatic experiences, would it be possible that she-or he can see angels that are invisible to the human eyes?” Azrael asked awkwardly.

“That’s a tad too specific for a theoretical probability, Azrael.” Lucifer looks at her with a serious face.

“Are you talking about that chick that hangs out with Ella? I mean, thanks to her..and you, I got half a million.” Maze speaks up and drinks in peace, as if she hasn’t spilled some info.

“Maze, have you been helping Azrael without my knowledge?” Lucifer quickly turns to Maze and all she does is shrug his question away.

“I’ve been helping myself as a bounty hunter. She said it would be dangerous and I gladly took it as a challenge. Everything turned out great since I got my pleasure and prize.” Maze gave a smirk, thinking about her adventurous time.

“Her name is (Y/n), and yea..somehow she saw me while I was a ‘ghost friend’ for Ella. If that’s not weird then I don’t know what is.” Arael confessed and scratched her head.

“This is interesting indeed.” Lucifer grins and pours another drink. “Maybe I should spend some quality time with (Y/n). After all, not all humans can easily see divinity. This should be fun.” Lucifer gives a mischievous smirk and downs his drink in one go. For the short time he knew you, you peaked his interest even more. You’re the code he needed to crack.

“Lucifer, please be careful with her. She may not look like it but she seems pretty fragile to dig up her awful experience.” Azrael warned with a stern look.

“No worries sister, she’s in good hands. I just wanna know what dear ol’ dad has planned for me next.” Lucifer walks to the elevator and waves her away.

Once he knows he’s finally alone, he sits on his couch and scoffs at the thought of you being part of his father's plan. Why can’t the old man just have one straight plan instead of all these complicated choices and consequences? He’s had enough.

Lucifer downs another drink and leans back with a tired sigh.

DING.

Lucifer sits up straight and stands up to see Chloe in a long coat with heels. Lucifer instantly puts down his drink and smirks cockily. “My detective, I would’ve never figured that you were one with many kinks.” Lucifer walks towards Chloe and tries to wrap his arms around her, only to be rejected by his touch.

“Lucifer, I only came for a do over. Yesterday, all you were focused on was the sex part, not the emotional part that was supposed to be with it.” Chloe walked past him and walked to his bed.

“Pardon me? Last night was divine, why would we even want us to do a do over? Not that I mind more.” Lucifer followed her and frowned.

“Because, knowing that you're the devil, you have lived all these years sleeping with different women and you don’t even know what it’s like to take things slow. Sex is always fun, but we should be connecting emotionally as well if you want us to be official.” Chloe rationalized while taking her long coat off, showing her classy lingerie black dress. Lucifer just stared at her body and Chloe gave him a glare while snapping her fingers in front of his face. “That’s what I’m talking about, Lucifer.”

“Fine. Let’s do it your way then, lead the way detective.” Lucifer sighed quietly while taking his shirt off.

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

You walked out of the precinct late at night with Ella. It was a lot of work to do as a forensic scientist. Maybe you both can get out earlier as a team, now that you have each other's brains in the same room it would make things easier. You both made it into your shared home and landed on the couch.

“Man I’m so tired, I don’t even wanna lift a finger.” Ella sighs tiredly. You chuckled at how all of her optimistic energy has left her body.

“True that, but let’s try to make it to our bedrooms.” You stood up and helped Ella to stand. She groans at your ounce of energy but obliges anyway. You let her lay on the bed and you helped her get tucked in. The moment you make it to the door, she starts to snore as if she never had any sleep, and you tried your best not to laugh. You close the door to her bedroom and go to yours in an instant. You change your clothes and get straight to bed. Sleep instantly hit you the second you closed your eyes.

It was just exhaustion that made the darkness such a calming presence. An empty mind with no worries. You let it embrace you and consume you, but there was some sort of light. A different figure came into view, and it was blurry. You tried opening your eyes more, it didn’t work.

‘Oh Lucifer!’ A female voice exclaimed. Okay, now that weirded you out more. What the-

‘Am I doing good Detective?’ Lucifer’s questions with uncertainty. Oh hell no! Why are you dreaming about them doing it?! These two were the last thing on your mind.

‘Just as long as it’s me your enjoying, not just the sex part. Just desire me.’ Chloe responded and tugged Lucifer close for a passionate kiss. May lord have mercy on your soul. This isn’t a damn dream, it’s a living hell! How did you get here?

You looked around and found yourself in someone’s penthouse, and by the looks of it..it’s Lucifer’s penthouse. His portrait says it all. You look away from the portrait when Chloe moans louder. They were mingled so close to each other that you wanted to claw your eyes out. It’s times like this that you hated your abilities.

Your face turns red with embarrassment when the thin black bed sheets reveal more of their skin and actions. As if the outline of their sex position isn’t revealing enough.

‘Uh, guys?’ You tried calling out to them just to have nothing leaving your lips. Your voice disappeared and your presence is clearly unknown to them. The groans and moans got louder and the intensity of their “love making” has gotten too much. You tried covering your ears but the noise couldn’t even muffle.

‘I love y-’ Chloe was cut off by Lucifer releasing inside her with a growl. Chloe stayed quiet and surprised by the sudden release. She sighed and frowned while Lucifer tried to catch his breath.

‘Oh boy, talk about “love making”. He couldn’t even let her say those three little words. Was he trying to avoid saying it back?’ You said to yourself, even though no one could hear you. You just accepted the crazy situation at this point. There’s no going back.

‘Did I do as you pleased?’ Lucifer caught his breath and hovered over Chloe, looking down at her. He saw her disappointed face and frown at the expression. Chloe made him pull out of her and removed herself from under him plus the bed.

‘Not at all. What was that?’ Chloe put her clothes back on and wrapped herself in a coat. Lucifer pulled his boxers on and a silky robe.

‘I’ve only done exactly what you asked.’ Lucifer was getting irritated and poured himself a drink. Chloe crossed her arms and stood in front of him.

‘You didn’t even let me say those three little words. One would think you're trying to avoid the affection, or better yet, giving it.’ Chloe pointed out with a sharp look. Lucifer rubbed the bridge of his nose and looked at her with tired eyes.

‘Detective, you know well enough that I’m willing to do-’

‘Say it.’ Chloe interrupts Lucifer.

‘What?’ He stops moving his fancy glass around.

‘Say that you love me, that you're in love with me. You have to mean it and be honest, you’d never lie, even if you are the devil.’ Chloe looked at him with hope. All Lucifer could do was open and close his mouth, speechless. ‘That’s what I thought.’ She looked away sadly and picked up a drink.

‘Detective wait-’

‘It’s Chloe! Try learning to use my first name once in a while!’ She walked to the golden elevator and gave him a glare while the doors closed. Once she was gone, Lucifer hunched over his piano and rubbed his face.

‘Great, now I’m witnessing a fight between couple that just had sex. Poor Lucifer...’ You rubbed your head and sighed. You shifted awkwardly and tried thinking about what could help you go back to your sleeping body. Then an idea crossed your mind. You closed your eyes and made an attempt to empty your violated mind.

Darkness consumed you once again and this time you gasped. You sat up straight at your bed with sweat covering your face. That event really drained you physically even though the other part of you is fine. You turned to see the time and it was 1 a.m.

You sighed and layed back down to regain your strength. This time when you closed your eyes, you made sure not to let that happen again.

‘Damn these living nightmares.’

/////////////////////////////////////

I hope you all enjoyed it! Feedback is always welcome~

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MASTERLIST

[7-wonders]

Some Kind of Drug

Summary: Michael deals with his rejection in a much different way than most other people.

Word Count: 2548

A/N: Welcome back to Mad Love, friends! Sorry it’s taken so long, but life happens. Hopefully I’ll be able to post this now. As always, feedback is very much appreciated, and if you enjoyed I would love if you would like, comment and reblog. Shoot me an ask about this, my other works, or just anything!

(p.s....cw for blood ritual)

Read Mad Love (part one) HERE | Read Totally F***ed (part two) HERE | Read The Isle of Flightless Birds (part three) HERE | Read A Hard Day’s Night (part four) HERE | Read Pour One Out (part five) HERE | Read Where Angels Fear to Tread (part six) HERE | Read Naked & Afraid (part seven) HERE | Read Ironically Alive (part eight) HERE | Read Blame It On My Youth (part nine) HERE | Read Everything All At Once (part ten) HERE | Read Try (Just a Little Bit Harder) (part eleven) HERE

Flickering candles cast long shadows on the walls of the chamber as Michael moves around, making sure that everything’s in the exact position he needs it to be in order to conduct his ritual. Communicating with his father in this way is not new to him, but it is something that he’s neglected since you came into his life. Now, however, Michael’s done playing your games. He’s been patient with you, allowing you to determine the speed of the relationship. Sooner or later, he figured, you would stop fighting what your soul knows to be true and give into him. Obviously, he had vastly underestimated you.

He hardly flinches as he makes deep cuts down the length of his arms, watching with silent concentration as the thick blood quickly starts to pool on the ground beneath him. Falling to his knees, he starts to use the blood to paint an upside-down pentagram. The movements are almost robotic-like now, becoming second nature after so many years. The Latin that Michael’s chanting falls off of his lips with ease, the words echoing through the empty air.

“May you rise from the void, Father,” Michael says, switching to plain English as he begins to complete the summoning. “May your darkness guide me, power in Satan to overcome my weaknesses. Power in your name, strong within.”

A humming, high-pitched and ceaseless, sounds in Michael’s ears as his vision dances with spots. Every single sense is being assaulted as his demonic, Satanic nature takes the wheel. The candles begin to roar with each second that passes, the fervor building in Michael’s veins as he waits with bated breath for Satan to arrive. The bloody pentagram bubbles underneath him as the height of the flames reaches to the ceiling, unchanged by the sudden wind that whips through the room. When the wind stops just as unexpectedly as it started, the air growing stiflingly still, Michael looks up with pitch black eyes.

“Ave Satanas.”

To the normal human eye, nothing is in the chamber with Michael. To the son of Satan, however, his father stands just behind him, a ghost-like touch on his shoulder as he whispers into the ear of his son, the same ear that’s burned with the Mark of the Beast. The humming starts up again, but to Michael it registers as words.

“Father,” he calls, “I request your guidance! You’ve...tortured me with these images, visions of a future that I will have.”

He’s been plagued with these visions for months now, long before Ms. Mead stuck that needle into your neck. They often come to Michael in the form of dreams, but he has been known to collapse to the floor as he’s taken over by a premonition. They’re always vivid, and they’re always of you and Michael. Michael, holding you as a husband should hold his wife. 

Kissing you.

Making love to you.

In his visions, you rule alongside him. The new world has been ushered in, with Michael as its king and you as its queen. You love each other unconditionally, just as it should be. You belong to him, and he belongs to you.

(Usually, he’s holding onto at least one curly-haired blonde cherub, and you’re almost always pregnant with another. That desperate need for a family, however, can wait. First, he needs to win over your mind.)

“Her will is strong, stronger than anyone I’ve ever known. Our souls were created for one another, yet she continues to deny what is inevitable. The bonding ritual from the night of our wedding was a failure, and she continues to spurn any of my advances. I’m lost, Father. How am I supposed to complete your plans if I do not wholly have the one person who is supposed to be at my side during all of this?”

“Perhaps something more...permanent?” Satan’s voice sounds preternaturally deep in Michael’s ear, and he has to hide a shiver.

“I promised (Y/N) that I wouldn’t use magic on her without her permission.”

“And you won’t.” Michael’s arm is raised by an invisible force, palm facing upwards as his hand is outstretched. An apple, bright red and almost perfectly shaped, appears in his grip.

“I don’t understand what this will help with.”

Satan remains silent, allowing a vision to play out in front of Michael’s eyes as a response. Michael watches as you appear in front of him, silently asking for the apple with a familiar tilt of your head. He hands it to you, your shimmering mirage-like form holding it as if you’re actually there. You take a large bite out of the apple, Michael nearly moaning as he watches the juice dribble past your full lips and down your chin in a near-erotic scene.

There’s no sound coming from you as you gasp, the apple landing heavily on the ground. Your expression changes, and you blink rapidly, as if trying to see through a thick fog. When your eyes meet Michael’s, you smile softly. Michael’s frozen, enraptured as you approach him and sit in his lap, not at all bothered by his lack of clothes. Your arms loop around his neck, and Michael can almost feel the heat of your breath as you begin to lean in. Right as your lips are about to connect with his, you disappear as suddenly as you appeared.

“So it’s--” Michael’s chest is heaving, and he has to remind himself to breathe.

“Nothing that will harm her. One bite of this apple and she will be yours, my son. Body, mind, and soul.”

Michael could almost just take the apple and run, but something is stopping him. “That’s still using magic on her, whether or not it’s mine.”

“I bring a gift for you, and this is how you repay me? With ignorant questions and flippant reactions?”

“No Father, I’m extremely grateful.”

“Then take the gift. If anything, do not think of this as magic. Think of it--”

The dream (or maybe a nightmare) is the kind that’s forgotten as soon as you shoot up in bed with a gasp. You know that it was extremely vivid, your heart still pounding as you grab your phone to turn your alarm off, but you can’t remember the specifics. Lots of candles and Michael are the only things you’re sure were a part of your dream, but those could be used in any setting. Michael knocking over a candle and setting the house on fire? Celebrating Michael’s birthday? Lighting fireworks with Michael?

You shake your head, hoping maybe that will clear the fuzzy feeling in your brain like it clears an Etch-a-Sketch. You’re disoriented, like you slept for twenty hours instead of the eight or so that you normally do. Intense dreams tend to do that to you, so you’re careful with yourself as you crawl out of bed and head for the shower.

Even after you’ve washed the remnants of a restless sleep off of you, you still feel...off. You’re not sure if it’s related to the dream that you can’t remember, but you just feel weird today, like the world’s just slightly tilted on its axis and you’re the only one who notices it. Staring at your face in the steamed-over mirror as you comb through your hair, you frown slightly at yourself.

“Get it together, (Y/N),” you mutter to your reflection, watching as she says the words back to you at the same time. Swiping a towel over the mirror to clear it up, you shoot a couple of half-hearted finger guns at yourself before deciding that you need to stop procrastinating before you’re late. 

Michael, surprisingly, is leaning against the counter when you make your way into the kitchen. Normally he’s already in his office by this time, so to see him eating a bagel while scrolling through his phone is jarring. 

“Um, good morning?” you say, thrown off by this change in his ever-strict schedule. He must not have heard you come in, because he jumps when you greet him.

“(Y/N)!” He straightens up, trying to act like you didn’t just scare him. “You really are getting better at sneaking up on me.”

“Damn, and I wasn’t even trying.” You jokingly shoulder check him as you pass by, hearing him snicker under his breath.

“Do you nanny the two girls today?”

“No, I have to meet with my advisor on campus.”

“I thought class didn’t start for another couple of weeks?”

“It doesn’t, and please don’t remind me,” you groan, looking forlornly into the fridge. “This summer went by way too fast, I feel like I didn’t even get to do anything!”

“You would have been able to enjoy your summer if you had heeded my advice and not taken a job,” Michael points out, falling silent when you shoot him a withering glance.

“You may be the Antichrist, but I’ll still kick your ass if given the chance.” There’s nothing that appeals to you in the fridge, so you begrudgingly shut the door and look around for something that you can eat quick before running off to campus. “What are you up to today? Meeting with Putin?”

“The ghost of Josef Stalin, actually.” Michael smiles when you laugh loudly.

“Ah, well, be sure to break the bad news of the fall of Communism gently.”

“I’ll try, but my Russian’s pretty basic, at best.” 

Nodding as if you understand the downfalls of only being passing in the Russian language, your eyes fall on the fruit bowl sitting on the counter. Although all of the fruit looks pretty appetizing, the particular apple sitting at the top is practically calling your name. It’s shiny and bright red, and looks as if it was just picked out of a tree. The feeling that something’s off returns with a full force, making you pause right as you’re about to grab the apple. Figuring that you’re just hungry, you shake it off and take the fruit from the bowl.

Running it under some water, you look at Michael with a questioning glance when you feel him staring at you. “Do you have a problem with me eating this apple?”

“No, sorry, I didn’t mean to stare,” he says quickly. “Just lost in my thoughts, I guess.”

“O...kay?” He still watches you as you turn the water off, shaking the apple dry and grabbing a towel to wipe your hands. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, absolutely. Why?”

“You just seem off today. Then again, maybe it’s the moon or something, because I’ve felt weird all morning, too.”

“You have?”

“Yeah, I had a really vivid dream last night, and I still haven’t been able to get over it.”

“Hmm, what was it about?” Michael’s mind is fighting a battle with his nature as he anxiously watches you toss the apple in the air before setting it down on the counter to grab a glass of water. 

“That’s the thing, I don’t remember. All I remember is that it involved you and some candles.” Michael’s pretty sure his heart stops, automatically knowing that you somehow inadvertently had a front-row seat to the ritual with his father. “I don’t know, maybe it involved you setting the house on fire?”

“Why would I ever set the house on fire?”

“Hey, I never said you did it on purpose! You could’ve dropped a candle? Can’t you light things on fire with your magic? Maybe you just got too excited.”

“Okay, you’re making me nervous talking about the different ways I could burn the house down.” He’s nervous for a few reasons right now, but you don’t need to know that. 

“And here I thought you couldn’t get nervous,” you tease.

For Michael, the next two seconds happen slow enough to make it feel like two minutes. He watches as you raise the apple to your mouth, heart jumping in his chest with a mix of glee and horror. Finally, it’s happening. He should be happy about this; he is happy about this, but he can’t deny how he guilty he feels. Still, he attempts to argue with himself, it’s not like you’re forcing her to love you. You’re just helping her to see what her soul knows.

But I’m making her feel that before she’s ready to acknowledge it, he fires back.

She’s had months now to acknowledge it! It’s time to speed things along.

The time that Michael spends debating with himself, he finds, is precious time lost. Instead of coming to a decision, you make the decision for him by biting into the apple. He stifles a gasp, feigning a cough instead as he waits for the inevitable to occur. The inevitable, however, occurs much slower than he was led to believe. One, two, and three bites are taken before Michael remembers how to speak. 

“(Y/N)?” he asks cautiously.

“Yeah?” He’ll forgive the fact that you talked with food in your mouth this time, since there are bigger worries at hand.

“Are you...feeling alright?” You eyes widen, and Michael’s sure that the magic’s taken effect. 

Then, you roll your eyes. “Perfectly fine, unless you poisoned the apples a la Snow White?”

“I was just curious.” You shake your head slowly, obviously not believing him.

“And I thought I was going to be the weird one today,” you mutter under your breath, checking the time and grabbing your bag like you would any other morning. “I gotta go. Don’t light the house on fire while I’m gone, okay?”

“I’m not planning on it,” Michael says, still in disbelief that you’re acting completely normal.

With a cheeky smile and a sarcastic wave, you’re out the door with a “bye, Mikey!” He doesn’t even bother to correct you on the nickname, standing in the kitchen in a frozen stupor as he tries to figure out what just happened.

Michael rushes over to the fruit bowl, unsure of if you grabbed the wrong piece of fruit or if you’re just impervious to any sort of mind-affecting magic. Flipping the bowl over, the various apples and oranges scatter across the counter. He allows the tendrils of his magic to extend out like extra limbs, hands grasping for each apple that he can find. Finally he feels it, the magic that fully coats the apple as if it’s caramel being drizzled on top. Michael cries out in relief, examining the apple to make sure it really is the one that was given to him by his father. 

With one look, the apple’s incinerated until there’s nothing but a small pile of ashes in Michael’s hand. He turns on the faucet, washing his hands of the ashes and keeping the water running until he’s sure that any trace of the rotten plan is down the drain, both figuratively and literally. Leaning against the counter, Michael flicks his wrist to put the bowl back on the counter like nothing ever happened.

He got lucky this time. Satan influences Michael, injecting himself into his son’s veins and manipulating him until he’s something he doesn’t recognize, something villainous and evil. He almost let the Devil do it again, only this time it involved you. “Never again,” Michael mutters, determined to escape the clutches of his father. 

Evil, however, comes in many different forms.

//

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[veridium]

fake happy

Well, whaddya know! The College AU is back, baby! Unfortunately June was pretty much hell in a handbasket, so writing took a backseat. But, we are far from done. Thank you to everyone for sighting tight, and to @bitchesofostwick for being a very patient co-author. 

So, where were we? Ah, yes, the holiday weekend from hell. On with the show! Title bought to you by a great Paramore song.

masterpost // last chapter

--

“Hey baby cakes!”

The moment she hears the shrill greeting whilst getting out of her car in the sandstone-colored driveway, Olivia knows she’s in a chapter of Dante’s Inferno. All the calmness she had with Ellinor earlier that day is gone; it is easier said than done enduring four days in the house of Paula Sinclair.

“Hey,” she rushes over her shoulder, pulling the side lever to release the trunk where her bags are kept. Just two, one of clothes and toiletries and the other books and supplies to do assignments. She’ll need the preoccupation as an excuse for the gauntlet of trials her Mom will invite her to.

As she’s filing her luggage out onto the driveway, she sees her Mom’s shadow approaching. She glances and sees her in all her glory: an olive green sundress with one of those straw pool hats. She was probably out basking in the sun all afternoon before this. Olivia is surprised she thought to put down whatever spiked beverage she must have had with her to come outside and greet her only child. 

“Did you have a safe drive? You certainly did not rush to get home safe,” Paula says, halting and crossing her arms. 

Olivia slams the trunk closed and huffs, slinging one bag’s strap over her shoulder and the other on her opposite forearm. “I woke up late, and had to help Ellinor pack.” Sorry, Ellinor. 

“Ellinor! I will miss her this year.” A lie said out of convenience. The whole time Ellinor stays with them, Paula shoots her peculiar questions about her personal life or her political views. Ellinor knows better now after these last couple of years how to play them off, but Paula can’t help but size people up. It’s how she cultivates all her complaints.

“I will, too,” Olivia lets out as she makes her way to the front door, past the splendorous potted plants and fake green grass turf. Her Mother saunters behind her through the open door. 

Once inside Olivia notices what’s missing, and sets her smaller bag down. 

“Wh--”

“No no, do not just leave that there! Take it to the mud room or your bedroom.”

Olivia bites back a groan and turns around to face Paula as she shuts and locks the large-ass, gaudy-ass front door. “Fine. Where is Nemo?”

“Nemo?”

“...the dog, Mother.”

“Nemo! Oh, psh,” she waves her acrylics. “He is off in the yard. I kept him outside because the carpet steamers came this morning. You know how his muddy little paws are! Now, do I not get a hug?”

Olivia tenses up from head to toe, seeing her Mother coming in for the hug she didn’t wait for permission for. At least Nemo isn’t mysteriously gone -- she’s read too many horror stories online of people’s parents being complete monsters about their old family pets dying, and not telling the children who live elsewhere -- but Paula keeps Nemo out in the yard for days at a time when she gets the carpets cleaned. He will need company, and not just the husband going out and practicing his golf swing adjacent to him. 

Oh, right, there’s a husband around here.

Paula hugs her with her arms draped over Olivia’s shoulders, rather than around her waist like a good bear hug. Something Dad would know how to do.

“I imagine Fred is off shooting, stuffing, or smoking something,” she mutters over her Mother’s shoulder, to which Paula gently swats at her shoulder and guffaws. 

“No, silly! He’s in the yard with Nemo, your fellow prisoner,” she teases, picking up on Olivia’s dread with her trademark passive aggression. Only three minutes in the door, a new record. 

“I didn’t say he couldn’t do those things out in the yard.” Lord knows he has before. 

“Where do you think our holiday meal comes from every year?” 

“COSTCO, like God and Uncle Sam intended, right?”

“Ugh, Olivia, your humor changes every year you’re at that College. Don’t be so morose.”

She takes a breath and picks up her eyesore of a bag so that it does not further desecrate the sanctity of the foyer, and makes for the curved staircase just across the pristine hardwood. “I’m just tired from the drive, Mom. I’m going to go upstairs and get settled.”

“Okay, and come downstairs soon! I wanna catch up, okay?”

“Yeah, okay!”

She glances behind her but her Mother is already vanished. Sure, catch up, but not too quick! Releasing her bated breath she lurches up the rest of the stairs. The place is heavily renovated from the home it originally was when her parents bought it. In the beginning they didn’t have much -- well, much compared to what Paula has now -- and so their first nest was a fixer upper. Year after year, corny wallpaper became fresh painted walls, and thick upholstered couches handed down from in-laws became brand new installations from the boutiques downtown. Two additions to the place upgraded it from a modest family home to a wannabe mansion. Olivia grew up in this ever-changing little kingdom of improvements, but only when she was a newly-minted adult did she realize she was one of its fixtures.

The one comfort had always been that her Father dwelled there with her. He brought heart and humanity to the kingdom of objects: his muddy shoes by the front door, not the “mud room.” His fishing rods hung up on the garage rack. His barbeque out in the yard. They weren’t all state-of-the-art, but they were his. But, by now, they, too, were all gone. ‘Improvements’ in every stead, including his.  

Olivia had one sacrosanct place left, and that was her childhood room. Walking down the hall decorated with big, framed portraits of the family -- none of her Father, though, to be sure -- she found her door, the second one to the right in the west hallway. “West” being the original upstairs hallway, the only hallway, before construction added the one referred to as the “East.” She pushed the ajar door open and slid in to see it as she remembered: the bright lavender purple walls strewn with posters, pictures, and a tapestry up behind her bed. The pearly purple carpet smelled of the carpet cleaner, but it did not mask the smell of vanilla she expected. On the opposite wall from the door, her princess bed complete with ivory white canopy was freshly made. Her bedspread was white, with pillows in alternating shades of green and lilac. Years ago she fought endlessly for her Mother to let her paint her room a darker color than the baby pink it was first. Thanks to her Dad, they “compromised” with purple. Sadly, Paula took that as “the lightest shades of purple” and so it was.

In the details, though, there was Olivia’s rebellion. The posters, Paramore, My Chemical Romance, and an old one from a Sheryl Crow concert she found on Amazon, contrasted the brightness with a grit. To the left by her small balcony doors, her vanity mirror and stool were covered with polaroid pictures, concert tickets, movie ticket stubs, and bracelets. She had taken all of her incriminating, “immodest” makeup with her to college, so all that remained were an old bottle of sunscreen, some pastel eyeshadow palettes, and lip glosses. So many lip glosses. 

Olivia dropped her shit in the middle of the floor and made for the reading chair in the far corner, where she collapsed into a curled, reticent ball of conflicted emotions. She predicted this -- she dreaded this -- and now, here she is. The first day is always a test of anxiety, more so than enduring mistreatment. Paula is always good on the first day -- great, sometimes. She is generous, and outgoing, and doesn’t sweat the small stuff. The grueling part comes after the first night ends and she realizes she has to do something with her daughter who isn’t just in for dinner and giggling. That’s when she remembers how she actually feels, and who she actually is. And with no one like Ellinor to buffer and provide excuses for her not standing in one place for too long, it’ll be particularly concentrated. 

She slides limply against the plush chair and closes her eyes. It was a stressful drive full of hasty college kids getting home to their more harmonious families. Olivia was in no rush, though. Three trips through various drive thrus surely added time.

Her phone goes off, and she slips her phone out of her back jean pocket. 

Ellinor: You ready to walk the plank yet?

Smirking, Olivia replies: 

-- I am already keeling over the edge. How is your family?

Ellinor: I nearly did a drop and roll out of Lyssa’s car on the way here, but they’re bearable. They are who they usually are. No surprises, this holiday season! 

-- One of these years we’ll be successful enough to buy everyone therapy for Christmas. 

Ellinor: No shit, I’m making them pay for mine first. 

Olivia is replying when another notification comes up, an instagram like this time, from Maryden. Grinning she taps on it. Maryden finally saw the group pic they all took at the fair: her, Ellinor, Cullen, and then Olivia and Cass in the bottom corner. Olivia had made Cass hold the phone due to height advantage. Her grin expands before it sinks fast. 

Ah, fuck. 

She pulls up her messages again and sees the one Cassandra sent her while she was driving and unable to check. 

Cassandra: Text me when you arrive safe. ❤️

The heart emoji. Olivia’s cheeks turn hot, and she hastily types. 

-- Here in purgatory! 

The sound of a man shouting something, and then laughing, rings from the balcony windows. Fred must be huffing and puffing about something amusing, like meat or guns. She can’t wait for all his odd comments and attempts to “relate” that almost always devolve into him talking about whatever season of sport he’s onto and her nodding along. Poor man. He makes sea sponges seem like sophists. 

Soon after sending, Cassandra replies, an opportunity Olivia doesn’t predict: 

Cassandra: Awesome. my Uncle has stopped us for gas, still about 40 minutes out. 

-- That’s good. Hopefully you won’t get stuck in rush hour. 

Cassandra: My Uncle sucks at navigating traffic, so I wouldn’t bet on it. 

-- Lol

Cassandra: You alright? 

Olivia is sort of surprised by the question and its sensitivity, albeit direct. 

-- Just tired from the drive, that’s all 

Cassandra: You love driving. You would drive the entire stretch of the coast highway without blinking once.

Damn, Cassandra. A bold insight. A correct one, too. 

-- 🤷🏼‍♀️

Five seconds after she hits send, Cassandra calls her. She nearly drops the phone on the floor, and her slack posture goes full vertical. She checks that the door is closed, only to decide to leap, rush, and lock it just in case. Then she hurries to the farthest corner of the room and hits answer right on the last ring. 

“No, Detective, I will not submit to the polygraph.”

Cassandra’s voice rings almost playfully. “Very well, we have other ways of making you talk.”

There’s the hot blush again. “Uh, a-alright, who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?” She hushes a bit, and hopes Cassandra doesn’t notice. 

“Nothing! My Uncle is in the gas station doing who-knows-what, so I’m stuck in here, boot and all.”

“I’m not kidding, I saw that Liam Neeson movie, I know how this goes. I have a special set of skills--”

“What do I have to do? Express my distaste for something? Quote Plato?”

“...It would be reassuring.”

Cassandra laughs coyly, and despite everything, it livens her spirit. She didn’t expect Cassandra to be in so playful a mood traveling back home. She was cool but unhappy about it that morning when they parted ways, entertained only by Olivia’s presence and a strong cup of coffee. Without the ability to drive due to her ankle, her illustrious but mysterious Uncle had to be the one to pick her up and take her back to her family. 

“I was just calling to check in on you.”

“I thought that was what the texting was for,” Olivia replies more curtly than she intends. She gnaws at her bottom lip.

“Sometimes it is worth the extra effort to call.”

“That is very un-millenial of you, you know. Horrifying.”

“Maybe so. Ugh, what is that man doing?” there’s sounds of Cassandra rustling against the leather seat, probably checking in through the window. “Probably searching for that expensive jerky he gets at Trader Joe’s like it will just magically turn up at an ARCO.”

“Who’s to say it won’t? People of all walks of life can enjoy finer things.”

“Yes, but not just the ‘finer’ things,” she then huffs. “Look, I don’t have much time, so if you aren’t in the mood to talk about what is bothering you, I can let you go and we can talk later.”

“I don’t know if I will be able to. My Mom wants to ‘catch up,’ which in her language means I get a hundred questions and the occasional asinine one from Fred.”

“Fred’s your stepfather, right?”

“He’s...my Mother’s husband.”

“I see.”

She mulls her teeth and looks around aimlessly. Cassandra goes ‘hm’ but nothing else. 

“How are you able to talk so much?” Olivia asks, diverting the subject. “Aren’t you worried your family will pry?”

“The good thing about holidays in my family is there are so many people around, you can get a great deal of private time if you are smart enough. Which is exactly what I intend to do. Ugh...he...oh, sorry. I thought my Uncle was coming back, but it was just another man.”

“Yeah, but you said they have superhuman abilities for nosiness.”

“They do. And I have superhuman talents of evasion. They’ll peck and prod about the ankle boot, though. Usually I can slip away to the gym or for a run to get away from them but...of course...can’t do that. Doctors don’t trust me to set foot in a weight room and it’s been weeks since my injury.”

“Cass, it’s been two weeks, almost precisely.”

“I said weeks, didn’t I? Look, overextending is not the same as knowing my limits. They’re the medical professionals, but they don’t live in this body 24/7.”

Olivia grimaces with sympathy, though she can’t say she agrees given how easy it is for Cassandra to throw herself into things without caution. “Uh huh.”

“Ugh, forgive me. I won’t be able to talk everyday, but I would like to try sometimes, okay? I promise it won’t all be about my messed up ankle.”

Olivia smirks. “You’re being very…”

“Very…what?”

Olivia stalls. Is it an asshole thing to do, saying your girlfriend is being more sensitive and caring than usual? Maybe not “more,” but in a different way. An unusual way. She could have really taken Olivia’s hurt feelings over how she acted about her injury. She could be really trying. But now, in the lion’s den, Olivia’s unsure about whether the timing of it is...well, ideal. 

“Nevermind, I lost my train of thought,” she excuses. “I appreciate you.”

“It’s no trouble. Now, I think my Uncle is coming back. Ugh, he got a whole bag of things...probably for me. Seeing me with my boot triggered his overprotective nerve extra hard.”

“Oh, no, sour patch kids! The torture!” Olivia teases. An ounce of her regular self bleeds through. 

“Very funny. I will text you later. Be safe, alright?”

“Alright. You, too.” She then remembers and slips it in before they hang up: “L-let me know when you get home, too, okay?”

“...O-okay.” There’s a pause, the kind of awkward pause when the thing you say -- the particular thing -- happens. But since they aren’t there yet, it’s full of pause and anxiety. 

“Okay,” Olivia takes her turn to smooth it over. “Bye!”

“Bye.”

Hanging up kills the feeling of safety. She looks into the big oval mirror at her dresser vanity and watches her grin crack, then disappear all-together. The scene in her reflected surroundings loses its luster. Even with all the impossibilities, she kind of wishes Cassandra was with her. It almost makes her laugh at herself: what, would she have driven up with her in the passenger’s seat, hear “hey baby cakes!” and smile, saying “hey Mom, here’s my girlfriend! You’re suddenly not biphobic, right? Oh and by the way she’s a Pentaghast, so, there’s that!” and they all retire to the sitting room for tea and introductions. Right. 

She turns and sees her unpacked bags, her only company. She rubs her forehead slowly with the back of her hand. She has experience being left to her own devices with her Mother. Hell, she has a lifetime of it with her. A long weekend won’t be anything particularly gruesome, and if it is, well, she’s survived them before.  

Fifteen minutes later she has everything organized and put away -- she won’t unpack much, anyway. A quick change into some leggings and a t-shirt, a toss of her hair into a ponytail, and she’s ready to face the music. She’s careful to shut her bedroom door before she descends down the hall and the stairs, betting that her Mother is out in the yard on one of the lounge chairs. She finds her there, indeed lounging, with that missing cocktail restored to her.

Unmoved but always observant, her Mother inquires: “Settled in?” 

Olivia puts on her best polite grin and sits down on the lounge chair five feet away. On the grass, Fred is dressed in pastel blue polo and cargo shorts like the overgrown fraternity pledge he is, throwing a frisbee for Nemo. Nemo, the 10 year old yellow lab, who can scarcely go up the stairs without being winded these days. Too bad for Fred the minute Olivia shows herself, the grey-faced dog bounds in his own way over to the long last playmate.

“Nemo! You little prince!” she smiles, crouching down to embrace him. His tail is wagging a million miles per hour, and he fills her face with old dog breath. His tickling gets her to finally laugh. 

“Good grief,” she hears her Mom say, “Olivia, don’t let him lick your mouth!”

“I’m fine!” she says through her giggles, rubbing his chest and back as she stands upright. “It won’t kill me.”

“Ugh.”

That joy was short lived. She returns to the chair she chose and does her best to make as little eye contact as possible as she sits and sprawls her legs out. Nemo follows circles around her, tail still going.

“Do we know what the plans are for Thanksgiving?” Olivia asks, expecting the same answer as always. Dinner at home with Fred’s relatives and those in Mom’s family who she isn’t on the outs with, all above the age of 35 for the most part, and vote like it. Another dinner she’ll have to dress way too modestly and matronly for her age in order to fit in for the group photo.

“Well, that is what I wanted to surprise you with,” Paula answers. 

Olivia side-eyes her Mom, and delays opening up her phone to scroll through Twitter. “What?”

“We will be having dinner with the family as always, but earlier this week we received a surprise invitation for us to attend a holiday party later on this weekend.”

“You aren’t going to spend the holiday campaigning, are you?” 

“‘Campaigning’ has a broad definition, Olivia, and it is never a bad idea to become more familiar with one’s community constituents.”

Olivia frowns and resumes scrolling. Great, likely another fundraiser or gala, not something substantially humble like volunteering time with those genuinely in need, who are also her “constituents.” She saved the label for those she could depend on to write a donation check -- the other 80% of society barely existed. 

“I assume then you are expecting me to go?”

There’s a sound of Paula’s magazine of choice turning a page. “What do you think the surprise was?”

“That as much as you would like me to come, that you respect my choice not to so that I can have a quiet, restful weekend at home before Finals are in full swing?”

No response for going out on that limb. The proverbial crickets chirp, and Olivia knows her point was deliberately missed. 

“Or,” she corrects herself, “that you want me to go.”

“Yes, silly girl. And for your information, even if I didn’t want you to come, the invitation specifically noted you.”

“P-pardon me?” She looks up.

Paula shakes her head and smiles. “When were you going to tell me you were making friends with the Pentaghast family?”

“I...I-I’m not!”

“You must be, there was a handwritten note in the card, your name and all.”

Olivia can feel a stroke coming on. The heat of the day now feels like a vise around her throat, a semi-truck on her chest. She jerks up and turns to look at her Mother dead on, who is still flipping through her latest issue of Vogue, sunglasses and sunhat and all. 

“So...so they wrote me in? Me, specifically?”

“Yes, that is what I said! Goodness, calm down, you’ll give yourself a heat stroke.” 

Too late. “Why? Aren’t they one of the big blue families? Why would they want to invite y--”

“Are you insinuating that I do not belong in a bipartisan space? Olivia, I work in one for a living. This whole business of networking is par for the course. In fact, it is a long time coming. The Pentaghasts should be taking the ‘other side’ more seriously. I have been in this town’s political realm for seven years, now. They cannot always hide behind their old money and liberal hypocrisy of “inclusion.””

There is that rhetorical savvy and venom. Quintessentially Paula. Olivia falls back on the lounge chair and stares out into the lawn, mouth open and words lost. Where to begin? Hey, Mom, don’t think so highly of yourself, they’re only inviting you to get to me! Because they want to sniff me out as one of their many daughters’ lovers! You’re full of shit!

“Do I have to go? I am serious about wanting rest. This semester has been a lot, an--”

“A semester that I paid for,” Paula cut in, turning yet another page. “It is restful to be with your family. You should consider yourself lucky, Olivia, that spending time with us is so comfortable. You have this nice home to come back to, and good people to spend time with, and beautiful parties to go to. A girl your age in a lesser position would claw someone’s eyes out for the chance to live the life you get to. Is it so really so demanding?”

The shots to the gut have started early. So much for the easy first day. She wishes even more she could pop her Mother’s balloon, but it would mean ultimate disaster for her in the end. Out in the open Fred is still trying to get Nemo to chase the damn frisbee, clearly aware that he should stay away from the two debating blondes. Olivia rolls her lips shut and tries her hardest to swallow the hunk of pride at the back of her throat, but there’s no room in her stomach. It’s completely filled to the top with anxiety about what it means to be going to this party. 

Then it hits her: Cassandra is going to shoot through the roof. 

“Fine, Mom. I’ll go.” The clock then starts ticking for her to find a covert way out of it beforehand. She’s dove deep into her head, and only catches half of her Mother’s pleased response. 

“--something classy, the party is black tie optional.”

“Okay.”

“I also have an appointment for us to get our nails done tomorrow at 11, so do not sleep in too much.”

Oh for fuck’s sake. She does another fake smile as she pulls up her messages on her phone in order to deploy the distress signal: 

-- Change of plan, I need you to call me as soon as you are able. Your family sent an invitation to mine for their big party this weekend. My Mom is insisting we go. Code red. 

[yue-muffin]

Time Raiders (2016)

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

This hellsite turns the images into POTATO quality but ah well, here we go. Into the tomb!

P A R T T W O

He’s a puppy!! Everyone in the family wants to protect him from this business, but here Uncle Three goes ‘eh, might as well’. This boy has no idea what he’s doing. At least Zhang Qiling is here to protect him, because in what world does he not?

Lovely scenery!

Wu Xie…he’s such a nerd. But I relate, I would also use random facts I know from school to start a conversation, my mom probably hates me for it haha. It’s sort of obnoxious coming from some people (me…especially in undergrad). I love it when Wu Xie goes on a ramble tangent though.

We’re really going straight for the throat with the “lookin the mirror because you don’t know who you are” thing, aren’t we. Aw, then he gives a little pout.

These subs are really decent grammar-wise, but LOL at them just giving up on translating Zhang Qiling’s nickname: 闷油瓶 (sullen oil bottle), apparently referring to the way he doesn’t like to talk. It’s a cute nickname but it’s so hard to translate. Some have gone with Poker-face, which I think is the best one you can get in English.

HAHA WU XIE. This kid. I looked up 安静 and the dictionary gives me “quiet, calm, peaceful”. He’s not really quiet, he is rather calm in that he doesn’t flip out easily, but he has such puppy energy that it’s hard to use that descriptor for him. But confirmation that he thinks Zhang Qiling is a handsome man.

Aw, there’s our Wu Xie. It’s funny because he’s so annoyed with Zhang Qiling in the first volume of the novel when he doesn’t respond to Wu Xie’s attempts to be friendly, he always refers to him with a bit of scorn. But, well, it’s a super slow burn relationship (I’m talking platonic, since that’s fully canon and I can turn my shipping goggles off lol) and we don’t have that kind of time in live action adaptations. I do have to say, I like the drama and movie for changing that dynamic a little - if not, it detracts from Wu Xie’s image as an innocent, naive young man, probably.

Oh my fucking god his finger is on the trigger THIRD UNCLE WHY DID YOU BRING THIS KID WITH YOU. Well, that marks the first Zhang Qiling rescuing Wu Xie (from himself…this dumbass) of the movie haha.

Oh he took the bullet out ok that’s better. Ha! Wu Xie is a little imp still.

You just gave Zhang Qiling an heart attack, Wu Xie, hope you’re happy.  

This kid. If he wasn’t so stoic, he’d have rolled his eyes. You can just see it in his soul.

Oh ok, we’re getting a flashback to Third Uncle scolding Wu Xie that’s better. I thought he really was that irresponsible to just go “ok sure!”

He looks so sad. It’s the puppy eyes, I’m telling you. That’s how he always gets his way lol.

So he has a dream that weighs heavily on him, but is it worth risking your life in an actual tomb for?

Smooth, he redirects Zhang Qiling’s question right back at him - why do you want to go to the tomb? I love it, he’s still got that mouth on him.

Ooh so they did end up using the periodic amnesia part of his character. And his insecurities about whether he truly exists in the world.

These looks they give each other. They’re so soft. Aahh (shipper me is back). Aww. “Don’t worry, I’ll record them with my camera. You won’t be lost.” So there is a purpose for making photography part of his character. I like using the camera and mirrors as motifs.

“If I come or go, who cares.” I GUARANTEE YOU SOMEONE WILL.

More scenery for the record!

These shots really drive home what he just said: the world is so big, what’s one person in light of it all?

…Never change Wu Xie, never change. This is why everyone wants to protect him, because he says things like this. You’ll protect him?? Haha I remember when he said something like this in TLT2. It was so endearing. But also you just want to die laughing. But that is what makes Wu Xie, Wu Xie. Even in the first book, he cared and worried about Xiaoge’s whereabouts whereas everyone else was like “nah, he’s probably fine”.

HAHA WAIT. Third Uncle you are responsible.

Is this a prison transport truck why can it lock someone inside so easily.

This is so funny.

Oh no it’s the foreigners!! “You’ll be safer in the truck” they said.

It’s Pangzi and Ah Ning!

I still really miss TLT2 Ah Ning, I can only imagine that one in my head now haha.

I don’t understand why she had to climb on the side of the truck just to sit on the hood. Also, wear something a little more protective in the chest area if you’re gonna go tomb raiding it drives me absolutely crazy that women must always be so underdressed just for that male gaze.

You’ve got some good reception considering where you are. Her accent doesn’t make my ears bleed which is a good thing.

Oh-hoho he’s catching onto your little spy cam! IMPOSSIBLE haha that’s everyone’s reaction upon seeing Zhang Qiling after xx years looking the exact same.

And we’re in! Cue the greedy tomb robbers who touch things and get into trouble the second they enter the place. No deaths yet though…still too early.

-DO YOU SPEAK ZHONGWEN (Chinese)?

-*whisper* Chinese.

-CHINESE.

?? I’M DYING. This part is such comedy gold.

Yup that’s Pangzi, I think I’ve heard this one in other DMBJ adaptations but I don’t remember which one.

I’m pretty sure the tomb needs a key…which you have, Third Uncle…

Don’t worry, Zhang Qiling is here to help! As always, he tends to trounce everyone with the most mundane items even though the enemy is carrying heavy duty weapons.

Is something to happen to the beams? First a bracket fell off, now the camera focused on it briefly.

This Zhang Qiling is so low-key funny even though he doesn’t intend to be. They really said “how can we show Zhang Qiling being even more badass” by having him use the cloth as a distraction, then have it fall over his shoulders when it lands.

I also like how he never has any stupid qualms about fighting a woman. Oh he spoke English! Haha. “Not bad.” “I know.”

This Zhang Qiling.

Ah Ning pulling that gun out of her sleeve was real badass. I love how she’s the only one who actually gets hand-to-hand fighting and everyone else in her team just shoots from afar. She’s the team leader and boy does she deserve it. You go, Ah Ning!

Haha they are pretty good! Even set a trap.

Oh, Wu Xie got out of the truck.

Again, kudos to this Wu Xie for actually recording the stuff he sees in tombs.

Why am I laughing so hard right now haha. Look at his hands patting Zhang Qiling’s. His hands are a lot thinner now that they’re right up next to each other.

So high tech what is this haha.

What is my name? Wu Xie did you think he was an imposter or-

Aw, helping him check for his amnesia acting up haha. This kid.

Look at this smile. How can you hate him, it’d be like kicking a puppy. But also, he says the darnedest things. And Zhang Qiling gives a little laugh and a smile! See?

Gotta snap a picture of the bf.

Aww, nice music to go with the “hey you’re alright, proper introduction time” part. And they share a laugh, too.

GUYS YOU HAVE A KEY FOR A REASON?? If the darn thing isn’t turning, maybe you shouldn’t force it and try another method??

Wow they really went for the gore on this movie. Even got some nice blood splats when the thing clamps close. That’s not horrifying at all, nope.

Haha first trap you, the cut off the arm with a guillotine!

As always, Zhang Qiling to the rescue! But yikes is that one heavy duty sword.

Was it smart to light the ball on fire. I see statues holding crossbows that is not a good sign. This is a pretty imaginative way to light up a room though!

I love this Zhang Qiling.

The female statue is rather good looking?? It’s a statue?? And it looks downright creepy, not beautiful or sexy.

Oh no. They touched stuff in the tomb.

It’s a guy who has been dead for hundreds of years. What did you expect it to look and sound like.

Oh fuck no the eyes moved I hate it when this happens!!

Do you also see all the wires rigged to it or is that just me. And they’re holding CROSSBOWS. Now the HEADS MOVED I CAN’T.

There’s no corpse in the coffin great. And now the puppets are playing instruments. This is not disturbing.

COVER YOUR EARS. It’s too late!! Now everyone’s hallucinating, great.

Oh, she’s pretty! But don’t trust her!!

But why did Wu Xie get trapped in that dream of his, while everyone else is hallucinating that they’re still in the tomb.

A decent CGI lion for once? As long as it just stands there it looks fine.

And there goes Zhang Qiling’s magic blood!

It’s super effective! Oh, so he has to spill some blood for each person who is effected by the illusion? Yeah, no one say Zhang Qiling doesn’t care. He’s willing to spill enough blood to pass out (Book 1/TLT1), for all these dumbasses who probably had no business being in a tomb anyways with how they go about it and get themselves into mortal danger.

Yes, Wu Xie, be the voice of reason and protect him from your uncle and his friends. He could’ve left you guys to go crazy if he really did have malicious intentions. But he cut himself to save you, geez. Show some appreciation.

This is a pretty fun trap, gotta say. Wu Xie figured out the rhythm.

Don’t lie, he was definitely worried about Wu Xie, but haha turns out he’s not completely helpless. Just compare picture 1 to picture 2 lol.

HA KNEW IT. THE CROSSBOWS ARE NEXT.

Haha I love it how Zhang Qiling always preferentially helps Wu Xie up or worries about him, to the point Pangzi in Reboot/Chongqi doesn’t even really comment on it anymore.

Someone’s gonna end up dead at some point I’m just waiting for that ball to drop.

HAHAHA I’m howling.

Everyone falls on their asses and crashes into stuff. Zhang Qiling falls into a crouch A+ landing. Wu Xie?

Of course Zhang Qiling catches him. There always has to be a scene where Zhang Qiling holds Wu Xie in his arms, no matter the adaptation, haha. Is this the one for this version?

Of course it’s insects.

I QUIT? Everyone is looking for a way out, ok, you literally cannot quit until you get out of here.

Oh ew the bugs are here of course.

Aww that’s the Wu Xie we know. He wants to save people, always.

THE BUGS CAN EAT METAL. That surpasses “flesh-eating” ok.

Aw, look at his face. Poor boy. I didn’t think I’d grow this fond of Lu Han!Wu Xie.

This is why one person from your family died a month when you were a kid. Welp, that’s one person down.

Zhang Qiling hurting himself again to save their butts. In this adaptation it doesn’t seem that his blood repels so much as hurts creatures outright though, which is far less useful than his evil creature repellant in the dramas.

Lol, dude he even had to help you get your feet up on that metal thing.

WU XIE TRIES OK. He tries really hard. But it’s his first time in a tomb and he’s got more guts than half the people here ok.

SO YOU DECIDE TO PLAY THE FLUTE??

Always record Zhang Qiling’s smiles ok. He was so worried Wu Xie was going to be mooched alive by the bugs. I guess that’s why he can’t have the bug repellant blood in this adaptation lol. If he did, it would’ve helped a lot.

Oh, sure, now the foreigners come in.

You. You might have blown up the only exit??

Good thing your brains, Wu Xie, showed up after all, huh.

Option 1: Dig a hole!!

Option 2: Smash your way through!

How is he doing this haha. Zhang Qiling is too OP.

Aww, see, this is why their relationship across the franchise is so good?? Zhang Qiling in the books especially is so much of a badass, he always is ok and always wins, but it doesn’t matter how many times he escapes death. Wu Xie always cares and worries about leaving without him.

What’s with the awful weather outside lol.

Next Up: more tomb shenanigans!

[starkerforlife6969]

Secretary Peter, Boss Tony. With a twist ;)

Tony’s the best goddamn salesman in the office. Hell, in Wallstreet. He can move stocks, he can sell stocks, he can throw a life raft to the drowning man or sink the ship himself. 

He’s charismatic, handsome, and about as in style as his tailored three piece suits, which is to say- very and always in style. He’d graduated from desk jockey to cubicle drone to glass corner office in three short years and he has a floor full of people desperately in awe of him, vying for scraps of attention or pieces of wisdom. 

And Tony loves his job. He loves talking to people, he loves working his charm, he loves winning and he loves money and he loves not having to answer to anyone. 

And he doesn’t answer to anyone, except from- aside from that one pesky exception- in Nick Fury. 

He owns the whole company, so technically Tony reports to him, but Nick’s practically never here so Tony’s the one in charge. 

Apart from this week, apparently, because when he walks in on Monday morning it’s to see Nick in his office, that trademark furious glare that’s really poorly concealed behind what Tony supposes is meant to be a welcoming smile. He doesn’t break stride though, just saunters into his desk and grins. “I see you helped yourself into my office.” He says cheerily. 

“It’s not your office, Tony.” Nick growls, closing the door and standing in front of it like he thinks Tony might run out. “They’re all my offices. Every thing in this building is mine, do you understand that? Even those ugly ass lion statues in the lobby, they’re mine.” 

Tony sighs and eases into his leather desk chair. “That’s unfortunate. Maybe give ‘em to charity or something.” 

“Stark.” Nick’s tone is flat, unamused, and Tony looks up at him with his best ‘I’m listening’ face. “I was able to just waltz into your office because I notice- you don’t have a PA.” 

Tony’s eyes flicker to the desk just outside his office. Sure enough, it’s empty. “I wondered why I wasn’t getting any messages.” 

Nick is, again, unimpressed. 

“Pepper’s off on maternity leave,” Tony shrugs, tossing his stress ball into the air and catching it again. “I can go without a PA for a year, Nicky.” 

“Don’t you ever call me that again, and no, you can’t. Do you know why I’m here-” 

“-I’m sure you’re about to enlighten me-”

“I’m here because none of your sales have been recorded and stored, none of your hours, none of your billables. I haven’t had a hard copy receipt of any of your transactions and that makes you liable, Tony. And you may be one of my best workers, but I do not give a shit about you. But you being liable, makes me liable, which makes my company liable. And we wanna work as a team, don’t we?” 

“That seems like a rhetorical question.” 

“You are so backed up and you don’t even have a clue.” Nick growls, massaging his temples like he’d very much like to annihilate Tony right on the spot. 

Tony feels a little bit bad. He may have forgotten about those pesky little paper trails. “It’s not like I’m breaking the law, Fury, c’mon-”

“Oh, I’ll just tell the bank that you’re not breaking the law and send them on their merry fucking way, shall i? Or, should you get a secretary?” 

“Hire me one, then,” Tony rolls his eyes, bored with the conversation and reaching forward to grab a random sheet of paper off his desk. He peruses it idly. It’s a shopping list, and scanning the items, he’s not entirely sure what for. A baby shower? There’s too much alcohol for that- someone’s birthday? Whose list even is this? Is it in here by mistake?

“Do you know how many secretaries you went through before Pepper, Tony? Over a hundred. You have to hire one yourself. I do not want to be sued for abusive language again-”

Tony looks up sharply. “She was being an imbecile, Fury, and I stand by what I said-”

Nick lifts a hand to cut him off. “Hire a secretary before the week is out, Stark, or it won’t be such a friendly visit next time.” 

He leaves in a whirlwind of leather and disapproval and Tony stares bemusedly. 

He doesn’t even have to touch his phone before it buzzes and he sees the text from Pepper. Heard someone got a nasty visit. I’ll have someone for you before Friday. 

Tony smiles softly. He misses her, he should buy her something- 

suddenly, he remembers what the shopping list is for.  

When Tony gets into the office on Friday morning, he’s riding on a bit of a high. Everything’s been going so well recently. He’s signed more clients than ever in a three day span, one of his biggest competitors missed a big meeting and Fury hasn’t left any menacing phone calls. Pepper had liked her presents, people still stare after him, and- life all around is good. 

He’s in his office, just taking a moment to savour how triumphant and successful he is, when he reaches out for a sip of his coffee. 

It’s a fucking delicious blend. Expensive and Italian and the stuff that you can only get from a very pretentious cafe on the other side of New York and-

He pauses in his drinking. 

He never got himself coffee. 

He looks at the cup in his hand and lowers it marginally. It’s hot and just the way he likes it. He looks around his office then too, and suddenly all the differences appear and slap him in the face. His desk is clear- not just clear, clean, and his laptop keys are shiny and polished like new. His papers are organised and there are highlights and annotations and his certificates are hanging on the wall and not crammed into a box in the bottom drawer of his filing cabinet where he left them. In fact, his whole fucking office looks professional and goddamn nice. 

His dry cleaning is hanging neatly in the corner too. He gets up, and looks at the desk outside his office. 

Sure enough, there’s someone sitting there. 

A male from what Tony can see, with short brown hair and a headset on. He's typing into the computer and diligently scribbling onto a notepad. He looks like he knows what he’s doing. 

Who the hell is he?

Tony’s laptop pings and he looks down to see a new email from Fury. 

Well done, Stark. Everything looks to be in order. I knew you could be reasonable. 

He clicks on the attachments, already knowing what he’s going to see. All his backlogs, all his logged hours, all his receipts, ordered and neatly filed and chronologically placed and there are even little notes underneath each one with extra details and- how the fuck does his new secretary know that yes, actually, the Milton case had required an extra emergency meeting when they’d discovered a conflict- Tony hadn’t made a note of it anywhere. 

Curiosity truly peaked now, he takes his perfect coffee and saunters out, walking around the front of the desk. 

His new secretary looks up and Tony’s penis twitches a little. Okay, yes, Tony Jr approves. He’s young, maybe twenty, with brown hair and big brown eyes, cream skin and a delicate nose. He’s slender, but in shape, in a white shirt with the top few buttons undone, giving a lovely view of those sharp collarbones. He’s wearing black trousers and the the microphone wire against his cheek and in his hair contrasts nicely with his pale skin. 

He looks up at Tony and smiles pleasantly. “Mr Stark, is there something I can help you with?”

Tony spots a calendar on the corner of the desk. He picks it up and flips through it. His meetings and deadlines for the next six months are all neatly pencilled in. The most important ones are starred with a red pen. He sets it down carelessly and watches as the young man straightens it without a word. “So, how long have you been here, Mr...” 

“Peter Potts, Sir.” Peter says, and ah, this makes sense. The only way Peter could be so clever was if he had the Potts gene. “I started on Tuesday.” 

Tuesday, fuck. No wonder things have been going so well. “Pepper’s little brother?” 

“Half brother,” Peter corrects, “and soon to be uncle.” 

Tony can see the resemblance. The soft skin, the sweet eyes. “Well, Peter and Pepper. That’s cute.” 

Peter doesn’t say anything to that, but his pretty pink lips twitch in amusement. 

But Tony doesn’t have any qualms. Peter is quite clearly capable, he’s related to Pepper, he’s eye-candy, and he’s gotten Tony his favourite coffee. So, the older man simply tips his head and goes back into his office. But as soon as he’s sitting down, his curiosity flares up again. He presses the button on his intercom and clears his throat. “You go to college, Peter?” 

He watches through the glass as Peter’s chair swivels around, and the boy talks into the microphone with an intrigued smile. “Yes, Mr Stark. Top of my class at Harvard.” 

“What did you study?” 

“I majored in Engineering with a minor in Journalism. Graduated last year.” 

An early bird then, Tony can relate. That Potts gene really is something else. “And what have you been doing for the past year?” 

“Odd jobs,” Peter says evasively. “But when Pepper said she needed my help, I was all too happy to oblige. I’m a very big fan of yours, Mr Stark. There’s no bigger name in Wallstreet.” The phone rings and Peter shoots Tony an apologetic, but polite smile, as he picks up the phone. “Tony Stark’s office.” He nods, turning to the computer as the person talks. “Yes, I can see that here. No problem. Thank you. Yes, yes, Mr Butler, I will let him know.” Peter chuckles and Tony stares: amazed. “Alright. Thank you, goodbye.” 

“Mr Butler?” Tony shakes his head, “That was Jerry on the phone?” 

“Yes, Mr Stark. Would you like me to get him back on the line for you?” 

Jerry Butler is the coldest man in the world. He doesn’t laugh with secretaries. He’s no reason for any smile ever. But Peter had chuckled like he was talking to an old friend. Not even Pepper had achieved that. “No, no.” Tony frowns, “you carry on.” He clicks off the intercom and strums his fingers against his desk thoughtfully. Something doesn’t feel quite right- if something seems too good to be true...his mind warns. 

Maybe the catch is that he can’t sleep with Peter and the more he talks to the boy, the more he wants to. 

He does his best to ignore it for now. 

Things continue to go brilliantly. Life is even more effortlessly amazing than it was before. Nick even drops the hints of a promotion in the future if things keep going like this. When Tony gets to work, his favourite coffee is waiting, sometimes even a bagel or a croissant like Peter magically knows when Tony hasn’t had breakfast. He eats or drinks in his office as he checks emails, before Peter comes in with a notebook and a rundown of the days events, and then Tony gets to work. Peter comes in throughout the day, silent and unobtrusive and sets down water or coffee or occasionally- an apple- and sets it by Tony’s elbow and leaves again. 

When Tony steps out to meet a client for lunch, he sees Peter taking his lunch break at his desk- his headset is still on, and he’s still scribbling away, but it’s into an old worn science textbook. In his other hand is a sandwich he’s nibbling on. 

Tony prods at the book as he pulls on his coat. Peter had it dry cleaned specially and waiting in his office before Tony even knew he'd be out for lunch. There’s probably already a cab waiting downstairs. “What’s this?” Tony asks, trying to peek at the cover. 

Peter lets him easily. “It’s a bio-chemistry textbook. I’m thinking about taking some night classes. Work towards a masters, or if I don’t qualify- a second degree.” 

Tony may not have much pull in the science world, but his father sure did. He knows that name and money can go a long way, and Peter’s been exceptional. “I can get you in for a Masters anywhere you wanna go.” He assures, and Peter looks up at him with wide eyes. 

“Mr Stark-”

“It’s not a problem. Now, who am I meeting?” 

“Mrs Aberelle. She loves shrimp and it was her granddaughter’s birthday last week.” 

Tony’s not sure whether he wants to ruffle Peter’s hair or give him a filthy kiss on the mouth. He settles for neither. 

Mrs Aberelle practically gushes and swoons in her seat when Tony orders her the shrimp platter and asks how her granddaughter’s birthday was. She makes a higher bid than Tony even asked for. Peter’s a godsend. 

The next day, the CEO of of another major competitor comes down with the flu, and Tony’s pitch goes down brilliantly. 

He’s on cloud nine. 

Careful, a voice warns, when you’re this high, there’s only one way to go. 

It sounds suspiciously like his father, but he listens to it. “Hey, Peter,” he greets one morning as he strolls in. Peter’s in his office, just setting down his coffee and a- fuck, a danish pastry. He might be in love. “I got you a little something.” 

Peter blinks in surprise, but smiles sweetly, and crosses his hands in front of him as he waits. Tony sets his briefcase down and clips open the gold clasps and lifts out a brand new, just released bio-chemistry textbook. Peter takes it with wide, disbelieving eyes. “Mr Stark...” he whispers, shaking his head, “this was- I know for a fact that this was over a $100. I can’t accept this-”

“Kid,” Tony chuckles, shaking his head. “It’s pocket change. Besides, I’m not giving it to you for nothing.” 

Peter’s eyes flash to his and Tony’s a little surprised by what he sees. Peter looks almost-fuck, almost dangerous- but it’s gone in a flash, replaced with that sweetness and hardworking, subtle smugness that’s usually there. 

“I want you to attend the meeting with Lawson tomorrow. As a sit in, alright?” 

Peter nods immediately, but frowns. “Is there any particular reason why, Mr Stark?” He’s clutching the book to his chest almost reverently. 

“Not really,” Tony admits, rubbing his chin, “just wary. You up for it?” 

“Always.” Peter murmurs, and Tony thinks he must be imagining the demure little almost-wink he gets. 

It doesn’t stop him from thinking about it again that night. 

He shakes Lawson’s hand in the morning as the man and his associates sit opposite him at the large oakwood table. Tony and Peter on one side, Lawson and his men on the other. Peter has his notebook out and is writing away- he always seems to be writing, Tony has no idea what- and then they start talking. 

Tony’s not sure what he was worried about. The contract is brilliant, more lenient than expected and has nothing but benefits for both sides. He’s giving Lawson a hard time, but that’s just part of the game, and he’s about to seal the deal when-

Peter slides a piece of paper over to him without looking up. Tony frowns at him, but Peter doesn’t make eye-contact, continuing to write, and Tony looks down. 

He’s lying. Don’t sign. 

Well fuck, that’s a fucking thing to write. What is Tony supposed to do with that? He sets it down and tries to look unaffected as they keep talking but when Lawson’s side slide over the contract, Tony pauses with the pen in his hand. Peter isn’t making a sound. 

“Let me just talk to my secretary real quick,” Tony grins, wearing his best winning smile, “why don’t you fine gentlemen wait outside, take five, catch a breather, and then we can come back and sort this out.” 

They look a little confused, but they leave and then Peter and Tony are alone. 

“What the hell is this, Peter?” 

Peter looks up bravely, his jaw locked. “I don’t trust him, Mr Stark. There’s something not right-”

“I’m gonna need a little more than your hunch, kid. No offence, but I’ve been in this game a lot longer than you. You don’t know the contract, it’s a good deal-”

“It’s too good a deal,” Peter insists, lifting the thick contract up. “I’ve read through it, Mr Stark. I read through all the contracts you’re about to sign and there’s something about this that doesn’t add up. Why would they offer such a beneficial claim with us? Why not one of your competitors?” 

Tony shrugs a little smugly. “My competitors haven’t been stepping up to bat, lately.” 

Peter shakes his head. “I’m serious, Mr Stark. When things or people are too good to be true, they usually are.”

There’s something in his tone. Something...something Tony’s unsure of. 

“Did you see anything in the small print that can back up- what is at the moment- just a feeling?” 

Peter’s shoulders slump in defeat, and he shakes his head. “No, Sir.” He whispers. 

The older man sighs, rubbing at his eyes. Only Pepper or Peter could ever make him feel like this- torn between the rational, sensible option, and listening to their fucking hunches-

“He knows!” A voice outside the door hisses, and both Peter and Tony look up sharply. 

“He doesn’t know, Lawson-”

“He must know! Why would he tell us to leave like that? He knows about our deal with Oscorp! I knew Norman couldn’t make this go away, the dirty son-of-a-bitch-”

“There’s no way Stark knows, just calm down-”

The voices disappear again, down the hall, and Tony stares in amazement. Peter just looks earnest. “Do you believe me now, Mr Stark?”

“How the hell did you know?” He whispers, collapsing into one of the chairs.

Peter bites his bottom lip. “Sometimes i just get these feelings,” he says, as he scribbles on the paper in front of him. 

Unfortunately, knowing that Lawson has a back door deal with Oscorp is not something that can be easily proven, and when Fury finds out that Tony blew would could be one of the biggest contracts of the year, he reacts with, what is understandably, a lot of anger. 

Tony does his best to get Peter to screen all his calls as the two of them work all night to try and find a way to prove what they heard. Tony wants to think that maybe his word will be enough, but Nick’s always been a stickler for the rules and Tony...has not. 

Even as absorbed in papers and numbers as he is, Tony can still appreciate Peter here beside him. The kid’s saved him a huge one here. And he’s still here, when he should probably be at home sleeping or watching Netflix, helping Tony try to prove the unprovable. He’s smart and quick and for someone who’s never worked with stocks like this before, he sure knows his way around it. 

“Hey,” Peter whispers when it hits three am. “I bet they keep a hard copy of all their emails in a data storage room.” 

Tony looks up and rubs the bleariness from his eyes. “Really?” 

“Yeah,” Peter breaths, getting to his feet, more energetic now, “a lot of stock companies do it. It’s an automatically backlog, it can stop you getting into a lot of trouble. All we have to go is get in.” 

Tony shakes his head, but gets to his feet, knees groaning. “How? I’m the most recognisable face in Wallstreet.”

“But I’m not.” Peter insists, already heading for the door. Tony’s hot on his heels. “I can talk my way in.” 

“Not that I doubt your ability, because you’re a Potts, but do you really think you can just waltz in and-”

Yes, as it turns out. Tony just stares in awe as Peter plays the apologetic, desperate intern who just has to get this work done for his brutal boss Norman Osborn. Tony’s hiding behind a potted plant as he watches Peter’s performance. “I’m so sorry,” Peter weeps, eyes shining with tears as the large, female security guard clutches at her heart through her shirt. “I’m such an idiot, and it’s only my first week and I forgot my keycard and- I’m gonna get fired and I deserve it and-”

“Oh, no, honey,” the security guard croons, already unlocking the barrier for him. “No, baby, it is not your fault, okay?” 

Peter sniffles, eyes red and smile grateful. “Thank you so much, I-you have no idea what this means to me and-”

She blows him a kiss. “Go, honey. Go.” Peter waves at her, and jogs around the corner. 

They have to wait about fifteen minutes till she goes to the bathroom, before Tony runs out and Peter lets him through. “How did you- wait- how did you even unlock the door-”

“I pickpocketed her,” Peter whispers, as they get into the elevator. Tony stares at Peter in shock. 

“Shit, kid. Where’d you learn to do that?”

Peter gives him a look. “We’re breaking into one of the most famous companies in the world, Mr Stark. I don’t think now’s the time.”

“Sure- I guess-” Peter grabs his hand and tugs him out of the metal doors as soon as they get to the right floor and shit- how did Peter even know what floor- before Tony knows it, Peter is picking the lock of a storage room and- seriously, what the hell-

and then he’s hacking into a computer and downloading a memory stick onto it. 

Tony is staring in slack-jawed awe. “Seriously, Peter.” He whispers, as Peter scans through emails. “What the fuck?” 

“Tony,” Peter murmurs, a little irritated, as his eyes flicker across the screen as he scrolls rapidly. “Not the time.” 

“Not the time? You- you cried on cue. You knew all this stuff about me, you pick-pocketed her- you got into that locked room, you just hacked into a computer and a memory stick, are you- were you a criminal or something? Like a tech-whiz kid? You can tell me, I won’t judge-”

“I know you won’t,” Peter says softly, and suddenly there’s that doe-eyed, cocky secretary who smirks whenever Tony ends up liking whatever weird type of sushi Peter brings him when he’d insisted he wouldn’t. “But not right now. Later, I promise- ah! Look!” 

There’s the email. It’s not explicit, but it’s interaction between Norman and Lawson which can’t easily be dismissed. Peter sends it to the printer and the two of them are waiting for the damn thing to connect, when footsteps sound along the carpeted floor around the corner. 

Peter shoves Tony into a stationary closet and Tony watches through the crack as a middle-aged man comes around with a stack of papers to photocopy. The man blinks at the sight of Peter, surprised, and Peter half smiles. “Hey,” he greets casually, and Tony is seriously in awe of this kid’s acting. “All nighter for you too, huh? Osborn’s a real dick.”

The man chuckles, nodding, and comes to join Peter by the printer. “Yeah, I know. I’m Barney,” 

Peter takes his hand. “Lucas,” he says easily, “It’s nice to meet you. You couldn’t help, could you? The damn thing’s not working.”

Lucas peers at the printer, and smiles good-naturedly. “You have to enter your user access code.”

Tony pales and if Peter panics at all, he doesn’t show it. “Fuck,” he sighs, smacking his forehead, “I forgot mine. I keep it written down on this post it- shit, I’ll have to run downstairs, unless-” he looks up at Barney hopefully, “I could use yours? Save me the run.” 

Barney looks torn. “We’re not supposed to...”

For a second, Tony thinks Peter might pull the same crying act he used with the security guard, but he doesn’t. 

Instead, Peter steps forward, lifts his chin and catches his plush bottom lip between his teeth. 

Shit. Shit. Tony and Barney are both hypnotised. “Maybe we could forget the printer altogether,” Peter murmurs, his hands drifting to Barney’s belt as he fiddles with the loop. “Working for Norman gets me so stressed, you know? Sometimes you just want some-” he sighs a little, and the sound goes straight to Tony’s dick. “-some stress relief. You ever feel like that, Barney?” 

Barney looks utterly besotted, and he doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. 

Peter pushes impossibly closer, tilting his head up more. “You can touch me, if you want,” he says, barely above a whisper, “I want you to. Right here.” He grabs one of Barney’s hands and places it on his perfect ass. 

Tony’s leaking in his pants. 

Barney grunts with desire, grabbing at Peter’s ass gracelessly, his other hand coming to do the same as Peter presses their groins together. “What’s your access code?” He whispers into Barney’s ear, palming at his crotch. 

Barney looks like he might cum any second. He’s probably a virgin, Tony thinks. Or maybe Peter is just that hot. Either one is plausible. “A-ah, it-it’s 4598-”

Tony lets out a cry of surprise when Barney falls heavily to the floor. 

Peter turns and taps in the code to the printer as Tony bursts out of the closet. “Holy shit,” he whispers, staring at the man. There’s no blood which is...a relief? “Is he dead?”

Peter rolls his eyes as the printer starts chugging out paper. He grins victoriously. “No, Tony, he’s not dead. I don’t kill people. He’s just unconscious.” He gives Tony a look like the older man is acting a bit slow. 

There’s a wet spot on Barney’s pants, Tony feels for the guy, but there’s more pressing matters. “Peter, what the fuck, seriously-”

“Oh, come on, Tony.” Peter snaps, whirling on him with righteous indignation. His pupils are blown wide and Tony wants him so bad it hurts, but he’s also- he’s also confused out of his mind. “You’ve known this whole time. What- you think it’s coincidence that all your competitors have been missing meetings? Falling sick? You think these new clients are just falling into your lap? I’ve been doing all of this for you. You know that.” 

Jesus Christ. Tony stares. “I-I don’t- how-”

“I like seeing you succeed. It gets me even hotter for you than I already am.” 

Tony can’t form words. 

“I know you like me too. I’d have to be blind not to- aha!” He lifts the papers happily, all printed and sorted. “As much as I’d love to have you fuck me right here on this printer, we need to leave.” 

Tony’s pretty sure he’s forgotten how to form words, but fucking Peter is something he’d very much like to do. 

“We’re gonna go back to your office, and you can do me right up against the glass, okay?” 

Tony has to pinch his arm to not cum right then and there. Peter notices, and smirks, tiptoeing to kiss him lightly. 

“Come on, Mr Stark,” he grins, his eyes twinkling with a satisfying mixture of innocence and mischief, as he guides them towards the door. “You have work to do.” 

[fanfic-inator795]

RotTMNT/Baron Jitsu fanfiction: Dating… With Children - BONUS DRABBLES

(Also available to read on AO3)

((Just decided to post both drabbles on one post even if they don’t relate to each other since they’re pretty short. Also, just as a Heads up: The first drabble gets pretty PG-13. (Though it's probably about as far as I'm ever going to go with my writing, since I'm not really a fan of writing smut). So yeah, enjoy!))

There were very few things in this world that were more satisfying than spending a warm Sunday afternoon in the arms of the person you loved. That's what Lou thought anyways.

The boys were currently over at April’s playing with some new video game console that her father had bought her, leaving the house quiet and peaceful. It was actually Draxum that had suggested laying down and stretching out some, after the two of them enjoyed a light lunch together. But while Draxum had assumed they'd be doing this on the loveseat, but with enough coaxing Lou managed to lead him upstairs instead.

“After all, the bed is much comfier,” Lou had told him, “And much more ‘tall-person friendly’.”

“I'm only about a foot or so taller than you,” Draxum lightly argued back as Lou had continued up the stairs, “and I'm within the average male height for men of my characteristics. You're the one who's a bit on the short side.” Lou’s light laughter echoed down the hall, unbothered by this fact at all.

Still, Draxum couldn't exactly argue with his boyfriend, the bed was indeed more comfortable than the small couch, as well as more private. One kiss led to another, and another, and a few more for good measure as they held each other in their arms. As they got a bit closer, each kiss being deeper and longer than the last, Draxum could feel Lou start to tangle his fingers through his hair, undoing his ponytail with little concern. It was an action that was quickly starting to become familiar to Draxum, yet it still managed to send shivers of pleasure up his spine.

Smirking a bit, Draxum decided to return the favor. Moving away from his boyfriend’s lips, he began to kiss his neck, one of his hands gripping Lou’s shoulder. Lou moaned, squirming at each touch and kiss.

Each time they caught each other’s gaze or saw the other smile, it just seemed to lead into another kiss. They hadn’t yet said it out loud, but there was love between them. Physical (obviously), emotional, platonic, romantic - you name it, they had it. And they wanted to enjoy every second of it. At some point during their makeout session, Lou had unbuttoned his shirt - or, maybe Draxum unbuttoned it? Neither one of them could really remember, nor could they care too much. All they cared about in that moment was each other.

However, love or no, they had a while to go before they made that big next step in the physical part of their relationship. Still, they accepted this, being more than alright with what they had and willing to be patient and take their time. But as momentary lust began to settle some and their kissing began to slow down a bit, Draxum remained comfortably on top of him, their arms staying tangled around each other. One of Lou’s hands was under Draxum’s shirt, rubbing his warm back a bit. Draxum pressed his forehead to Lou’s, and Lou hummed as he returned the gesture, lazily smiling at his boyfriend as he did so. “See,” he mumbled, “Told you it was more comfortable up here…”

Draxum sighed, rolling his eyes as he smiled back at him. “Yes yes, I know, you were right…” Lou chuckled, and lifted his chin slightly for another kiss-

His ears picked up on something - something close by. It was subtle, but still somewhat noticeable. The light thud of fast feet going up stairs, the slight squeak of the old floor, the voices of- Lou gasped. In one shift motion, Lou shoved Draxum off him (and, in his haste, completely off the bed) and sat up, forcing a ‘normal’ grin onto his face as the door opened.

“-Pop?” Raph asked as he and Leo poked their heads in, “Hey, what-?”

“AH! Yes!” Lou nodded, “Hello boys! Uh, a-aren’t you two supposed to be at April’s? You know we don’t like you kids walking around outside by yourselves!”

“We all started gettin’ bored with the video game she had and wanted to come play over here instead since we’ve got the bigger yard,” Raph explained.

“And her mom walked us over, so we can’t get in trouble for it,” Leo added, “Anyway, can we have an ice cream cup before we start playing again?”

“Oh. Uh, yes, that will be fine,” Lou nodded, “I will come down and get them for you.” After last time (the ‘frozen food avalanche’ incident as dubbed by his sons), he wasn’t going to trust his boys with the task. “A-Anything else you two need?”

“...How come your shirt’s unbuttoned?” Raph asked, tilting his head a bit as he pointed at his father’s open chest.

Right. Ignoring the heat now in his cheeks, Lou answered the question as he began fumbling over his buttons. “W-Well, heh, I-I was feeling a bit warm, you see? So I thought an open shirt would cool me down. But I am feeling much cooler now so now I am just going to button it back up before I catch a cold.”

“Okayyyy… And how come Draxum’s on the floor?” Leo asked, leaning over a bit to get a better look at the two feet that were sticking out from behind the bed.

“Oh. That. Well, uh-”

“I was doing sit-ups,” Draxum explained as he stood up, shooting his boyfriend a flat look before continuing, “I forgot about my workout this morning, so I figured I would at least get part of it done here. Exercise is important, after all.” With how even his tone was and how natural his words seemed, Lou might have actually believed him himself if he didn’t know the truth.

“Oh yeah! Our gym teacher at school tells us that too!” Raph agreed. His brother in blue took a bit longer to convince, not quite believing the explanation if his face was any indication.

But eventually, Leo just shrugged it off, deeming it not important. “So, ice cream?”

“Yes, I will be down there in a moment.” The boys accepted this, and as soon as they left the room, Lou breathed a sigh of relief.

“...Did you really have to push me off the bed?”

“I panicked, okay?!”

“...So, do you really think that’s what they were doing in there?” Raph asked as they went back downstairs, “Dad watchin’ Draxum do sit-ups?”

Leo shook his head. “Nah, they were probably just kissing or somethin’ and wanted to keep it a secret. Which is weird ‘cause we already know they’re boyfriends and kiss and stuff. ...Grown ups are weird.”

“Heh, yeah,” Raph agreed, the two brothers then sharing a laugh. Grown ups were DEFINITELY weird.

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“-It's just that, they don't always get it, you know?”

He didn't really, but Draxum still nodded.

Donnie paused, sticking his tongue out in concentration as he turned a couple screws. “They don't make fun of me because I like science, but I know when I try to teach them science stuff, they get super bored…”

Draxum nodded again, giving a small hum to let the boy in purple know he was still listening.

Donnie glanced up towards the kitchen window, where he could see his father and brothers playing outside. “I know Dad says it's okay that we all like different things, an’ even if I don't always like playing their games or doing what they like, there are still things we all like to do and play together, so that's good. Pliers, please.”

Draxum handed him the pliers. “It is good. Make sure there's enough room on each wire to avoid any short circuiting.”

“I know.” He carefully cut each wire, attaching them with precision. “Still, I guess sometimes I wish they liked the same stuff as me… They call my experiments cool, but they never really wanna help with the ‘boring’ parts that you gotta do to lead up to the cool ending. ...They don't say it's boring, but I can tell that's what they think.”

Donnie could feel a sympathetic hand on his shoulder now. “Unfortunately, some people can't always appreciate that there's a process to things,” Draxum told him, “You can't skip ahead to experimentation without the proper research and preparation.”

“EXACTLY!” If it weren't for the fact that he was trying to install the last few parts, Donnie would’ve thrown his hands up in relief that SOMEONE finally got it! ...In fact, Draxum got a lot about him, and he was very much thankful for that. “Oh well… At least I'm not the only one in this family who likes science stuff anymore. So… Thanks for that, Dr. Draxum.”

Draxum smiled back at him. “Of course. Now, it looks like you're about ready for the ‘eyes’.” He gestured to the small pile of Christmas lights light bulbs that he had brought over. “Which color?”

“Purple, duh!” Donnie answered, confident that there was no other ‘right’ answer to that question.

Draxum chuckled. “‘Duh’, indeed.” He handed Donnie the lights, and watched as the boy installed them. A few more adjustments to the circuitry, and it was ready to go.

The building of the little robot had been an easy enough process, and with Draxum’s help and the teaching from a ‘Koding of Kidz!’ site, Donnie had been able to write a simple code for the bot too. “Here we go,” Donnie mumbled. He adjusted his glasses, took a deep breath, and pressed a button on his tablet.

The little bit moved forward towards the salt and pepper shakers. Another press of a button, and the bot’s arms widened. Donnie pressed the button again, and the tiny arms closed around the salt shaker. He was grinning now as he directed the robot to take the salt over to an equally pleased Draxum. “It actually works! I did it!”

“Yes, you did,” Draxum nodded, “And it's working very well at that, no bugs or need for adjustments as far as I can tell.”

Donnie nodded, agreeing. Maybe he’d try to add more functions later, make the robot a little more exciting and cool. But for now, despite its simplicity, it was still a success. It was still his .

“So, what are you going to call your invention,” Draxum asked, figuring it would be christened with some creative name that only a child could come up with, like the Salt-Transporter 2000 or the Condiment Bot or-

“I think I'm gonna call him Shelldon,” Donnie answered after a moment, driving the bot back towards him.

“Shelldon?” Draxum repeated.

“Yeah, it seems like a good name for him, don't you think?”

Amused, Draxum had to agree. “Alright, Shelldon it is. So, are you ready to show it- Er, him to everyone then?”

“Yeah!” Donnie carefully gathered both the bot and his tablet into his arms before racing outside to his family, with Draxum right behind them, both of them confident that this likely wouldn't be the last time the two of them built something together.

[questforpants]

𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒.

DUNGEONS AND DADDIES / EP 1 : A MAN AND A HANDSHAKE

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠. lines taken from an actual play d&d podcast, you can check out here 

I’m sorry, I laugh every time I hear it.

Uh, you might find a good use for those condoms on the course of this adventure.

If not in one way, then another.

You’re like our dad, the dad of dads.

I’m the dad of dads. I’m daddy daddy.

Yo, man, play it cool, dawg.

Ah, hey, yeah, what’s up man? How’s it goin’? Are you, uh, are you my ride?

Uh, yeah, uh, can you come here? Can we talk for a second? We’ll be right with you, young man! Can you get over here?

Rock and roll man.

Okay, uhhhh, yeah, no smoking in your car, I dig that. Alright man, your car, your rules.

On the scale from, like, 1 to 20, what kind of dankness are we looking at here, weed wise?

Uhhh, hey man, where’d you, uh, where’d you get that?

I’m very hungry and I kinda wanna fuck!

Uh, yeah man, I dig it. Well, uh, just tellin’ ya, this poindexter drivin’ the car over here doesn’t want you, uh—

He sounds like a fuckin’ narc.

You know what? I’m just gonna take that— why don’t we just put it in the mailbox for, uh, it’ll be our little secret.

We don’t want our mailman finding that, haha!

I feel like I’m fuckin’ bonding with my kid already!

Is this what fuckin’ being a parent is like? Because fuckin’ sign me up, this sounds great!

Hey, I hope you know, I ain’t no narc. I party occasionally too, it’s just, you know, in front of the kids…maybe someday we could, you know...anyways! That’s not important, I just don’t want you to think I’m-

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Power! Power! Power!”

I will make you a naked tree! A naked tree that I will then punch!

How would you like if someone ripped off your skin without consent?

I’m gonna need you guys to be real buddies and listen to Dad now, alright?

Challenge accepted, fatherrrrrrr!

Hey there, man, it’s just about being polite, you can tell a lot about a man from a handshake!

It was born from my brain!

I’m a little bit, uh, hazed out from the strength of the previous, aforementioned blunt.

We’re gonna be very respectful and we’re gonna be very positive, and then we’re gonna go out and we’re gonna have a wonderful time today. Can you say that, can you say we’re gonna go out and have a wonderful time today?

Yeah? What was the craziest thing you’ve ever done?

I burned down my first school!

[strained laughter] He didn’t burn down the /entire/ school, the fire damage was limited to one or two classrooms.

Okay, alright, who wants Grape-Nuts? I’ve got a baggy of grape nuts with me.

Well, I’m gonna be snacking on my Grape-Nuts and if anyone wants some, just let me know if you want some of these nuts and we’ll chow down.

Relationships are built on trust, that’s what you tell me. You should trust that we’re going to buckle up!

You know, I’m tryna’ let them make their own decisions, it’s called free-range parenting.

Well I guess somebody’s not getting their instant oatmeal.

Daddy? I mean, [name]? Is that you?

Listen...pal...I know that I haven’t been there for you. Because I wasn’t married to your wife, I mean to your mom, before your dad died. I’ve written several letters trying to emote on paper what I can’t always do in person and you know, I’m working on that.

[name?] [name], I was informed to tell you not to get in vans with strangers.

Don’t give a shit! 

That’s my little joke, I’m a teetotaler myself but I like to say “neat,” you know and it makes me feel neat.

No, it’s okay, safety is not a priority—

Alright, I’m puttin’ on 60s and 70s greatest hits as we go.

Don't worry, I know how much gas my van has, don't worry about it.

Pretty good place to drop. You just don’t know how to shoot people, but that’s fine.

  Okay now hold still and let me put these bandaids on. Okay, hold still!

Aw, I think I’m gonna throw up...the iodine

I can’t help but— do you remember that scene in Jurassic Park where Ellie Satler, the very attractive Laura Dern, is looking at the leaves and she notices that the leaves are different and that’s kinda the first clue that something strange is going on! 

I thought ‘cause you were dabbing, you were Fornite dabbing.

Oh, modifications, alright. Black market modifications.

Guys, it’s pretty weird out here.

See, I’m not quite sure if this is an LSD flashback or event, so I’m just gonna be a little vague here.

Do you just yell your own name when you’re excited?

That’s what I’m saying. I don’t trust these people.

Guys, which dad do you think has the biggest dingdong?

Woah there gentlemen, watch where you’re shooting that thing!

You’ve gotta be kiddin— [dying noise]

[name], I'm in the middle of battle. I'm wondering what I should do?

Uh, probably die. That sounds like something you would do.

Ooh! Hey diddle diddle!

[deep and angry] Sorry for the language.

I’ve never related more.

Yep! How does that feel?

Not possible, my man. Not a real number, not possible.

God damn it, I knew we shouldn’t have come back for the adults! I knew it!

[muttering] They’re twist-offs, they’re twist-offs…

[slurred] Give me one good reason not to gut ya like a pig right here….

[sighs] Guys, this is tough but I feel like we’re a team. I think we can do this if we all stick together.

“Just pretend you don’t see me feeling things.” 

[low] You’re ridin’ in back with me, kemosabe.

[quiet and scared] Ooh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no…

[extreme stammering] Uh, let’s talk about something else! I don’t know— it’s been a long day, uh, let’s talk about something else.

I feel like that’s pretty much the only thing I wanna talk about. You had vines shot out of you.

Do you still have the condoms?

You know, I think maybe something’s happening to me and I’m still trying to get my bearings on it, so I would really enjoy it if you guys respected my privacy and let me work through what’s going on on my own.

So I’m gonna go ahead and put 10 condoms on my fingers for the time being, just to make sure that nothing bad happens.

I don’t wanna make any more messes in here, so you can consider me condomed up.

Ha! It’s been awhile since I’ve had a laugh, I appreciate a good joke…

[yelling] I’m wearing the condoms!

Sorry, sorry I’m just a little sensitive about the changes that are happening to my body, so--

This is some Lord of the Rings shit right here, y’all.

He, generally, is known as one of the best cultivators of non-voluntary work in this part of the continent.

You’re using a lot of elitist language.

That’s an extremely offensive way to put what my master does…

Well, yeah, agree to disagree, but I feel like they’re probably more useful in the workforce.

Listen up, you big alpha jock piece of shit bozo!

I think I dig where you’re goin’, man, I think I got this.

Okay, I feel like you’re being pretty aggro on me right now, I knew I flew off the handle at you there but—

You’re right, I’m sorry man. It’s been a tough day for both of us.

I just don’t feel like this is a music kinda guy, I don’t feel like this guy pumps a lot of tuneskis.

No, no! He can’t take it back, he can’t take it back! I feel something!

I silence his dumb ass with a kiss!

Something tingles deep down inside of me and I feel love for the first time in a long time, when he puts his mouth on mine.

Snakes are natural predators, we had to put down our purebred Dachshund because he got bit by a snake. This is a game replicating that exact same experience… uh, it will make you so strong and powerful, it’ll make me cry… about my Dachshund.

Thank you, my Number One.

You may keep this receipt of the pact that we have made.

It’s constantly kinda screaming in horror. [very quiet and gentle] Aaah.

Woah, sorry, I slipped there. Been drinking a little bit—

Holy shit, that’s the best you got? This is so bad!

[whispered] What the fuck are you doing?

[yelling] Are you fucking kidding me!?

Hey, do we think that [name]’s handshake or his kiss is more trustworthy?

Oh, thanks everybody, sorry I introduced the kissing thing as something we have to maintain now as part of our cover. 

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 169: Shut Up and Dance

Previously on BnHA: Aoyama creeped on Deku in the middle of the fucking night. A petrified Deku went to take a closer look only to find that Aoyama had left a weird “I KNOW~~” message spelled out on his balcony with fucking cheese. The next day in Cementoss’s class the kids resumed working on special moves. Deku got all brooding and thought about how he couldn’t beat Overhaul even with his absolute max of 20%. Then Aoyama got his attention and carved a possibly-suspicious-or-maybe-just-weird French message into a chunk of rock with his navel laser before collapsing in pain. Deku took Aoyama to rest for a bit and asked him what the cheese message meant. Aoyama said that Deku was like him -- someone who possessed a quirk that didn’t really suit his body. Aoyama himself is unable to control his navel laser without the aid of his support belt. He saw Deku as a kindred spirit and was trying to cheer him up since he knew he was starting to feel frustrated. And thus a new sparkly bond of friendship was born.

Today on BnHA: The kids randomly discuss how great Mina is at dancing and how great Jirou is at music stuff. Later that day, in a pure coincidence, Aizawa announces the upcoming cultural festival. Despite the recent string of villain attacks, the school has decided to go ahead with it as a way to hopefully help the stressed-out student body. 1-A gets to work determining what program their class will do, with people suggesting everything from petting zoos to cafes to “a banquet for students of darkness.” Momo and Iida narrow down everyone’s ridiculous suggestions, but they’re unable to settle on a final program, and Aizawa gives them one day to figure it out. That evening the kids gather in the fanfic dorms and Iida says they should come up with something that will help the other students de-stress. Todoroki of all people suggests that they host a dance party with live music. Jirou is a bit nervous about performing in front of everyone, but with her classmates’ support she agrees to do it. Let the Band AU arc begin.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through chapter 195 now, so any ETAs will reflect that.)

OH MY GOD YOU GUYS LOOK AT THIS!?!?

THIS IS MY FAVORITE COLOR PAGE EVER OMG

holy shit, I fucking love it. the colors! the (possibly unintentional) Wicked reference! MY LEADING LADY OCHAKO

and it looks like she’s wearing some of Mei’s gear. are we going to see any of these upgrades in her actual costume, or is this all just for the sake of a pretty cover? ah well, either way I love it

AND!!!

CULTURE FESTIVAL OMGGGGGG

lord I can’t even begin to imagine what a U.A. culture festival might be like. somehow I can’t quite picture them doing the typical cafe theme lol

oh my god you guys

MINA BREAKDANCING. 

you guys. ever since she got a bunch of bullies to dance with her in the middle of Kirishima’s flashback I’ve been wanting more of this lol

Deku is analyzing her moves, and it’s only just now occurred to me that this might be part of a new technique of hers and not just her spontaneously breaking out into a dance battle in the middle of the locker room

(ETA: nope just dancing. Mina is the best you guys)

lol now Deku says he wants to try and Mina’s volunteering to show him!

YESSSSSSSSS

NOW GET IIDA. HE NEEDS TO BE IN ON THIS. OH MY GOD. YOU GUYS. IT’S HAPPENINGGGGG

(ETA: this arc is a gift in so many ways)

oh hey Kaminari is casually hyping up Jirou’s hobby without any prompting!

is he trying to embarrass her or does he genuinely think it’s cool? OR MAYBE BOTH. WHY NOT. I REALLY DO SHIP THE SHIT OUT OF THIS DAMN TRIO NOW, DON’T I

he’s saying that her bedroom looked like “a music store” that one time they all went to see it

and he looks genuinely impressed, so I think it’s not teasing at all and he does in fact really think it’s cool

he says she must be a music pro and he’s asking how often she practices

and she’s getting all blushy and threatening him with one of her earjacks lol

he seems confused d’aww

(ETA: nice little bit with Kouda here which is followed up on later when he encourages her to perform and says it’s a skill well suited for a hero. I adore this sweet little friendship they have since taking that final exam together.)

she’s just shy, the way that some people are about the parts of themselves that are really personal. that means it’s really important to her and she’s maybe not fully ready to share it just yet

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

SO I HEARD

the class is losing their minds

IS IT SO FUCKING WRONG TO HAVE AT LEAST ONE NORMAL SCHOOL THING JESUS CHRIST. WE JUST SAT THROUGH FORTY CHAPTERS OF ANGST AND CHILD TORTURE. LET ME HAVE THIS, CHILDREN

!!

AIZAWA SHOUTA DID YOU REALLY ACTUALLY ADOPT THIS LITTLE GIRL OMG. PLEASE SAY YES. OMGGGGG

take her to the festival. let her come visit. omg. I will die of joy if that happens

(ETA: I did, in fact, die of joy)

so now the class is trying to figure out what to do

Kirishima is asking if it’s really okay “for us to be so carefree” at this particular juncture

Kiri were you not listening to a word I just fucking said. YES. y’all need to fucking relax for once in your damn lives

Kaminari is SHOCKED and is all “Kirishima you’ve changed, huh?”

but Kiri says it’s a valid concern though with all the villains running amok right now

Aizawa says that’s a fair point, but U.A. doesn’t revolve solely around the department of heroics

look at this Department of Management asshole acting like he’s going to get as big of a role in the series as Shinsou or Mei. haha you wish buddy

Aizawa says that this year’s festival will be made less public though, and will only occur within the school

well, good. honestly if y’all tried to pull more shit like the sports festival again at this juncture I would be raising some eyebrows, believe me

so they’re going to be deciding on their theme today! yaaaaay omgg

I’m going to take a wild guess here and predict that it will be something music related. since we had breakdancing Mina and music prodigy Jirou earlier. and also I’m really going to be needing that dancing Iida, you guys. I’m not kidding. we need to get on that stat

so finally Iida is taking charge, and tbh he was being remarkably restrained up till this point because I was expecting him to do this much earlier

he’s telling everyone to raise their hands if they have a suggestion

this class is full of passion

naturally the first suggestion is of course the classic

maybe if this was EVERY ANIME EVER. but this is BnHA! we can do better guys, come on!!

and we’ll just ignore Mineta

Ochako is suggesting a mochi shop! oh! I’m remembering that new years illustration now and I would love that tbh. but I don’t think that’s what we’re gonna end up with

look at all of these other ideas though

I love the idea of crepes and I’m already sad that they won’t end up going with that

Kouda’s idea is also amazing. and Kiri’s is super original

and Tokoyami’s I first read as “banquet of students” and I thought, that’s odd. I know he’s goth but I didn’t think he’d be out here suggesting cannibalism

but based on Kami’s stare, yeah, I’m pretty sure we’re gonna end up doing the music thing. CLASS 1-A DISCO. U.A. RAVE. AW YIHHH

wow

can you guys pick out which suggestion was Bakugou’s. it’s pretty easy tbh. study hall duhhhhhh

I actually love that the ideas we didn’t actually see can be so easily traced back to their originators. Deku’s hero quiz. Shouto’s soba house. Tsuyu’s “frog music chorus”, whatever that is. Ojiro’s martial arts performance. and so forth

Momo is now ruthlessly putting an end to the charade of diplomacy and erasing the ones that are “inappropriate or unrealistic” and “the ones that I don’t really understand” lmao

now the kids are getting back at the two reps by shooting down their own suggestions

and she’s combining the food themes into one, over Satou and Shouto’s protests that soba and crepes would “clash”

now things are getting out of hand

aaand the bell is ringing

Aizawa’s walking out and telling them all to make a decision by tomorrow morning

omg

oh damn

so now it’s nighttime in the fanfic dorms and 40-year-old Iida Tenya is in his relaxed business casual clothes watching youtube videos

I guess the rest of the gang must be here even though we’re not seeing them yet, because there are speech bubbles talking

I swear to god that boy really does go to bed at eight fucking pm every damn night. but why, though?? does he lie awake broodingly into the wee hours of the morning? does he go to bed early in order to wake up at the asscrack of dawn to work out? or does he just need the extra sleep because he’s a growing boy who runs at full steam shouting and blowing things up all day long and it’s just exhausting to be him? like, all three of these seem plausible to me lol

and then of course there’s the beloved fandom headcanon of him having PTSD and dealing with lots of nightmares too, and while we have really seen nothing in canon to hint at that, I’m obviously not going to dismiss any theory with that much Bakugou angst potential completely out of hand lol

but I think it’s probably the second and third one mostly tbh

as for the intern group, are they taking supplementary classes to make up for what they missed while they were out interning? that really is a lot of work, huh. no wonder the school decided to put an end to those for now

anyway, so Iida says that now that he’s had more time to think about it, he thinks they should come up with a theme that would assist the other departments in letting off some steam since they’re stressed out

that’s actually so thoughtful and pure

so Momo (at least I think it’s her?) is saying that in that case, they shouldn’t bother with a food theme since the U.A. kids are already accustomed to Lunch Rush’s food and it’s really hard to top that

so now they’ve narrowed it down to just a few options

they’re shooting down the petting zoo as “unsanitary”, wow. wow guys. so you don’t think that getting a bunch of cute baby animals for everyone to pet would help them to de-stress, huh. kay. I see how it is

oh my god

of all the people to end up suggesting this idea, he’s honestly the last person I would have expected

YESSSSSS U.A. UP IN THE CLUB

why is he the cutesttttt

LMAO

IT’S NOT LIKE THAT BUT I LOVE THE WAY YOUR MIND WORKS SUGAR MAN

oh my god. I will take this thought bubble of Bakugou and Todo getting lit in the club and I will keep it in my heart forever

Sero is objecting that it’ll be stressful (for them), but Mina says she can teach them all how to dance

LMAO AGAIN

yes look at him he has clearly mastered it

Mineta is now stepping in and saying that if they’re gonna turn class 1-A into New York’s Hottest Club then they’re gonna need some sick beats

AND NOW EVERYONE IS STARING AT YOU KNOW WHO

BRITNEY, BITCH

lol she’s going red again and is all “uh, what?”

Hagakure’s jumping in with the encouragement!

YESSSS YOU CAN DO IT JIROU YOU ROCK

but she’s getting all shy again and says it’s just a hobby

and now Kaminari’s having a flash of insight!

COME ON KAMI THIS IS YOUR MOMENT

YESSSS

god I ship it. he’s just so genuinely nice and encouraging. class A’s dumbest, sweetest boy

and now Kouda is also running over and says that it’s a skill that can put a smile on people’s faces and for that reason he does think it’s heroic

AND NOW HER GIRLFRIEND MOMO IS STEPPING IN PROTECTIVELY AND TELLING THEM THAT’S VERY NICE OF THEM, BUT AT THE END OF THE DAY IT’S JIROU’S DECISION

god this chapter is MomoJirouKami heaven and I’m on cloud fucking nine

YAAAAAY SHE’S GONNA DO IT

not if you don’t want to, I guess? though ngl that would be amazing

so with that, class A’s program is decided!

um. is this supposed to be important to the plot? who tf is this

(ETA: lol it both is and it isn’t. it’s relevant to the arc, but this arc is probably the least plot relevant in the series. though that doesn’t mean it’s not a complete and utter delight)

anyway! WHOOO HOOOO, SHUT UP AND DANCE WITH ME

I have no idea which bonus page goes with this chapter lol. so I’m just gonna skip it for now

[howtohero]

Uncontrollable Powers

Having superpowers is an awe inspiring thing. When before you were just a scrawny twerp who could lift at most one elephant over his head while breaking four to eighty nine sweats, now you can life at least sixteen elephants over your head while breaking zero to negative three sweats. That’s quite the upgrade. For some people going from zero to one thousand like that can be a bit of a jolt. There’s no shame in that. When Power Jones, the man with one million powers, first unlocked the power to destroy universe he actually destroyed all of existence like fifteen times before he got the hang of it. So the bar on losing control of your powers is set real low. You could destroy all of existence fourteen and a half times and still not be the biggest loser out there. But let’s talk about some of the things you can do when you’ve got a case of (power puking) uncontrollable powers. 

Cases of uncontrollable powers usually fall into two categories: Power usage that presents a danger to others, and power usage that presents a danger to oneself. (There’s a secret third category but we’ll deal with that later.)

Danger to Others This is like when you’ve just got so much concussive eye blast inside you that you can’t help but share it with the world. This is like when you sneeze and poison quills shoot out of your back. It’s when you can’t help but leak lava out of all your pores. Or when you turn everything you touch into gold. Until you get a handle on your powers you’re a risk to everyone and everything around you. Which is going to be bad for your morale. So try making yourself a nice happy song playlis- oh you’ve melted the music rectangle. Ok well then maybe you can do some nice relaxing yog- oh you’ve turned the yoga mat into spiders. You’ve turned everything into spiders. Gosh that’s pretty terrifying. Are you ok? Luckily it’s impossible to turn this guide into spiders. And you thought that was a waste of a genie wish, in your face. (That was a waste of a genie wish, we could’ve had a giant llama.) What the heck would we have done with a giant llama? (YOU JUST DON’T GET IT!) You’re darn right I don’t! 

Anyway, since your powers are going completely out of control, you can bet your last two pennies that have been fused together and also to your pants because you can’t stop fusing stuff together, that some superhero with a decent grasp on their powers is going to come fight you. Which is horrible I know, I’m sorry. Bad enough that you’re going to be punched a ton, but these super-nerds are also rubbing their mastery of the power to make rocks really big or really small right in your face. Which is really just rubbing salt in your wounds. This might sound like kind of a bum deal but I guarantee you that superheroes laying a smackdown on you is better than any of the alternatives which include:

A supervillain finding you and turning you into a weapon to wield against orphanages or siblings they’ve always been jealous of.

An enthusiastic civilian shooting you in the face for the greater good.

Aliens abducting you and then getting some incredibly off-base ideas about what the average human is. 

Destroying the world fifteen times because nobody came and picked you up. 

At least when a superhero picks you up they’ll probably come sporting some sleek power-suppressant cuffs and you can finally breathe normally without expelling live wasps from your throat. Sure they’re gonna throw you in a cell afterwards, but they’re superheroes, so it’ll be very comfortable. I was once in a superhero cell for reasons that needn’t be exposed (Karaoke related crimes. You know how it gets at the How To Hero office holiday parties. Last year, our in house exorcist Diego A. Wayghosts brought a haunted chocolate fountain from home for some reason and things got weird.) and it was really quite nice. There was a massage chair! And I think usually they play music but due to my special circumstance there was no music for me. (They started calling him the Karaoke Killer from the way he was just butchering those songs.) But I’m sure you’ll get music. You can finally listen to that happy songs playlist! 

Being locked up is obviously not ideal but it’s only until you can explain to the heroes that you’re a baby superhuman and you don’t quite have control of your powers yet. Once you do that they’ll be more than happy to help you. Superheroes are savvy enough to know that once a superhuman becomes active they have a very tiny window to prevent them from becoming a supervillain. (Gosh, remember The Wicked Window Widener? He became a supervillain because he saw a window that he deemed was just too small.) So they’ll let you out of your cell and they’ll get you to where you need to go to harness your powers. That might mean that they’ll keep you around and train you on site, especially if they’ve got a hero on their team with a similar power set as you. Or it could mean sending you over to OPG where they’ve got more experience with this kind of thing. 

If your powers are so unstable that it’s not a matter of self-control, OPG might develop some type of equipment to help you keep your powers in check. Whether that means special gloves to prevent you from turning everything you touch into gold. Or reverse engineering the magical properties imbued in this blog thanks to a genie to prevent you from turning everything you touch into spiders. You’ll be well-taken care of. 

Danger to Yourself This is type of power incontinence mostly affects mind-readers or people with one or more super-sense. These heroes are more susceptible to sensory overload which can result in terrible migraines or other mental stresses. When this occurs you need to be an advocate for yourself. Which sucks. Making an appointment with a doctor is hard enough. Now you’ve got to call your local superhero’s emergency hotline? That sounds so stressful. That guy saved the world. What has your doctor even done? Saved one life? Two? 40? That’s nothing. What’s even the point of them. What are you even gonna say? Ah I bet you’re gonna mess it up. “Hi hello, is this Ultiman? Five time galaxy saver and three time Emmy nominee? Yes uh, my name is Linda and I have a headache”? That’s terrible! Don’t mention the Emmy thing, he lost three times! Gosh you blew it. Now you have to listen to everybody’s thoughts all the time forever. And everybody has terrible thoughts. Your neighbor Tim has convinced himself that he is “one with the squirrels.” He’d never say it out loud but he thinks it all the dang time. The squirrels don’t even realize you exist Tim! Stop it! You’re embarrassing yourself. But only in your innermost thoughts! Gosh this is terrible you should not be exposing his secret shame gosh. 

Hopefully a more experienced mind reader or super-sensor will just stumble upon you, identify the problems you’re struggling with you, and just help you out without you having to figure out how to put “I smell everything that’s ever happened in the entire world” into a coherent sentence. People who can identify your problems are really the only people who can help you, so if you’re going through this, try stumbling towards the regular psychic hangouts in your town. Any restaurants, bars, or supermarkets labeled “silent spaces” are definitely rife with psychics. As is the psychic fish aquarium. Which is a huge waste of space since it is home to exactly one fish who yes, can probably help you, but come on. It’s a fish. These people will be able to help you deal with the sensory overload by teaching you to focus on specific things. Just stick with them and they’ll take care of you. Alternatively, you can try to purchase power-suppressant cuffs on the blackmarket, but that’s a great way to fall into a supervillain’s crosshairs. Supervillains are always on the market for mind readers and the like. So they definitely will kidnap you and figure out how to use you to read the minds of their enemies and their stupid older sister who’s like a lawyer or something but who definitely has deep dark embarrassing fears and secrets that an out of control mind reader like you can definitely glean from their stupid lawyer brains. 

And so there you have it, the two categories of uncontrollable powers. I guess the lesson here is that it takes a village to control a superpower. So if you’ve recently acquired superpowers, don’t hesitate to reach out to your local superheroes for help getting them under control. That’s all for today folks, be good to one another. And Tim, you go on believing whatever you want brother. I’m sure the squirrels think they’re one with you too. See you on Thursday! 

(Bonus: Danger to No One These are the uncontrollable powers that aren’t hurting anyone! Like the power to always smell good. Or that power the OPG calls “Always Thinking: Always Thinking is the power to always have an objectively good idea. Subjects are constantly coming up with good ideas for all sorts of things. Ideas that have been observed have ranged from delicious sorbet recipes to workable plans for wide-scale nuclear disarmament. The ideas seem to have no correlation to whatever is going on at the moment but they’re always objectively good. For example, even Grumpy Gernard from IT liked the sorbet we made from that sorbet recipe. And Grumpy Gernard hates sorbet. Remember when Jan brought in IT he said he’d rather eat cat poo than even look at it. She cried. It was rough. But he liked this sorbet! Thus is the power of Always Thinking. Combat Potential: It is likely that subjects with this power will come up with dozens of brilliant battle strategies that they can enact as needed.” These powers will either just have no effect on your life, such as the power to always have hair. Or will make your life much better, such as the power to always have a giant llama following you around. Imagine all the glorious things you could accomplish if you had a giant llama always following you around that you could never make disappear. You’d be king of the world with that much llama power. If only it had been me at the garage sale. I could’ve found that genie lamp. I could’ve had a giant llama. Curses!)  

[penny-beee]

surprise surprise

Word count: 2.5k

Genre: fluff

Summary: you’re an idol and friends with Monsta X, who happen to move in down the hall from your apartment and your feelings for Wonho become known to him.

I had just finished my stage for the night, my ankles wanting to fall off from my legs, they carried me to my dressing room. My manager Soora stood in the middle of the room, phone in hand, ready to leave.

“Hey, let me change and then we can go.” I spoke, harshly as my voice had been heavily used throughout the long night.

“Alright, you also have a photo shoot at Vogue tomorrow, so I advise sleeping as soon as we get home.” She warned as she left the room so I could change.

I grabbed my overnight bag and took out my distressed boyfriend jeans, black turtleneck sweater and black docs. I slipped into my new clothing and threw my old stuff onto hangers for my people to come collect and wash. I put a white overcoat on my frail shoulders, picking up my purse and heading out of the cold and empty room. Soora was standing earnestly at the end of the hall, the keys to my G-Wagon in one of her palms, smiling I grabbed the keys and told her to follow me. We walked silently to the parking garage, careful of not being caught as it was just her and I walking.

Soora has been by my side since grade three, she was an exchange student from Korea and had been shy to everyone but me. We became friends quickly and have been inseparable since, I followed her to Korea for a change of scenery when I was eighteen, we had gotten our own apartment and she had started working at JYP Ent. while I was working at a school teaching English to children. She came home one day saying JYP wanted a new solo artist and she showed him a video of me singing one night to my parents. Proud of herself she talked me into going to the agency and being signed without any former training. JYP just said “with a voice that good and a talent for the piano, we don’t need training.” And here I am, six years later, driving a maroon wrapped G-Wagon, my own high rise apartment in Gangnam, and my best friend managing me everyday.

Before I could count to ten I had pulled up to my building, the tall glass windows sparkled in the moonlight, one reason I loved coming home so late. I parked in the numbered spot for me, Soora sniffled as she opened her door. We both walked in silence to the elevator, nothing new from us. We knew better than to talk when we were both exhausted from work. A hushed groan came from my lips as we entered the second to top floor. Brown boxes lined a few of the walls, new neighbors?

“Looks like we have new neighbors, wanna go say hi?” Soora offered.

“Why not, I’m sure it’s another old couple.”

Sighing, I grazed over to the opened door. Loud raps came from a speaker I could see on the window seal. A man peaked from around the corner. Ki-hyun?

“Ki-hyun? Why didn’t you tell me you were moving?” I chuckled, walking in now as if I owned his place.

“We’ve been so busy, it’s only Wonho, Minhyuk and I though. The other four are in the apartment underneath us.” He sounded out of breath when he spoke, like he had been running laps on a high school track.

“Oh. Well do you need any help unpack-“

“(Y/n) we gotta get you to bed actually. Remember the early schedule.” Soora chimed in, an awkward chuckle left her lips.

“Ah that’s right, hey, after the photo shoot tomorrow I can come help?”

“Uh, I think so. I think Minhyuk is gonna go to dinner with Jooheon and Hyunwoo, so it’ll be us and Hoseok.” Winking at the end of his dastardly sentence, I softly hit his shoulder. He knew how I felt about Hoseok, even if Hoseok himself didn’t know; it was still embarrassing.

Flashing Ki an ungrateful smile, I turned on my heel and looped my arm into Soos’. Her and I paced to my front door at the end of the hall, I punched in my four digit code and waited for the beeping to stop so the door could unlock. Swinging the wooden brick open, the moon lit up the apartment just perfectly. My wall of windows never kept me unsatisfied, Soora and I had rented the apartment together to save money.

To the left was a spacious kitchen, white marble counter tops with black cabinets sat still. A rice cooker and a fancy espresso machine being the two appliances I used most sat away from each other. A big plant took up the middle of the island, just above the stove top, and diagonal from the bar stools. As we walk in, a big grey sectional gazed out at the big city lights, a white fur rug was squished underneath, adding some texture to the solids. My favorite part was the glass coffee table, three books on Vogue Italia stacked up on the corner. A 60” tv looked down on the watcher, on the slick white wall that was just right of the couch. Down the hall to our left, sat three doors. Sooras room, her bathroom and my bedroom door. My room being to the right, opening up the white plank, a California king mattress laid on the floor in the upper corner, letting me wake up every morning to a beautiful skyline. White sheets thrown around the bed kept it relatable, a few pillows half off the bed. The back walls were all window, a few being able to open so a nice breeze could come in now and again, the two other walls that were pure masonry, held planters and a few family pictures. The wall adjacent from my master bed held a huge 72” tv, and an old white dresser my aunt had given me gave itself a home underneath the massive electronic. The last wall with the planters only kept my master bath and closet. Nothing special, my room smelled of rich perfumes and earthy plants.

I kicked off my Docs and fell onto my custom mattress. ‘Help Hoseok unpack or stay home and pretend to be sick?’ I weighed the options in my head. Hoseok debuted after I did, all of Monsta X did, so I am their sunbae, but I’m also younger, so every time I see Hoseok or Changkyun they’re extremely awkward, like they don’t know how to address me. For Hoseok I think it’s freaking adorable, but for Changkyun I think he’s just teasing me at this point, as he’s always been like an annoying older brother.

Sighing, I closed my eyes and shifted in the sheets to get comfortable. Drifting off into the world of incoherent thoughts and dreams.

The next day had passed slowly, I had been in about four outfits and four makeup looks, ranging from editorial to girl next door. Soora had gone to get me two rolls of kimbap, leaving me alone to do the interview. They questioned me on my techniques and private life, but nothing about who I am as a person, so I have them the most interesting stories and examples I could, in the end gaining their interest in my more.

“We have a deal with a few brands that we want to recommend you to, would you be up for it?” The man asked me, he had put his recorder and notebook away.

“With all due respect, I love making music and I love modeling. But I’m already so busy as it is, and I need to focus on myself at the moment, but if the offer is open at any time I would love to call you when my mind changes.” I politely declined his offer.

As much as I love modeling, I’m not just a pretty face. I have heart and character. The interview had rubbed me the wrong way, as he didn’t care about me personally and only my love life and secrets on music. So I declined.

“Alright, well here’s my card then. The issue will be in this months magazine, we’re gonna try to put you on the cover as well as a few pages for the interview.” He takes a smile and handed me his paper card.

Thanking him contently, I went to the changing room. Soora stood there with her face plastered on her phone. Stuffing her face with out of her kimbaps. “You should’ve taken it.” She sighed.

“Yeah I know but he doesn’t care about me, he cares about the money. So whatever. I’m still selling out arenas of fifty thousand almost every night.” Giggling at my random burst of confidence, I skipped to the bag that held my change of clothes. I pulled out a pair of black Nike joggers and a matching black nike sweater. To counteract I added a pair of maroon Adidas.

“Let’s go, we have to help Ki and Hoseok.” I chanted, grabbing my foil wrapped meal and bags.

“You mean ‘your-seok?” She giggles at me, standing up quickly and slapping my butt.

“Hey! Not funny, I don’t like him that much!” I shouted as I chased after her.

We had arrived at the apartment building and walked up the stairs to the seventeenth floor since we needed to work off the food we had just stuffed into our empty bellies. Again Ki-hyun left the door open, boxes still sat against the blank taupe colored walls.

“Boys?” I called out, Soora had decided to go home and take a nap so I entered alone.

“Hey! (Y/n)-ah.” Hoseok called, rushing over to give me a comforting hug. He smelled of ramen and cologne, not too surprising.

“Hi Seokie. Where’s Kiki?” I asked him, he better not have ditched on purpose.

“Oh he decided to go get food with the boys.” Hoseok gave me a gummy smile, twisting his frame ever so slightly. “He also told me a secret. I apparently have to keep it from you.” He chuckled at his candor.

“What the hell Seok! Why mention it if you can’t tell me?!” I shouted, the one thing I hated more than anything was when people started a sentence and didn’t finish it or said they had something they wanted to tell me but couldn’t. ‘Why bring it up?’

“You’ll see, it’s okay.” He smirked his left eye almost closing at his effort. “Okay, go bring in the boxes that say kitchen. You can organize the kitchen since you have good decorating skills.” He smiled, his hand lingered on my shoulder as he turned to walk away. Something was off about him.

I followed his request and squatted down for the cardboard. Both about twenty-five pounds each, luckily they were stacked on top of each other so I could easily grab them. Few beads of sweat fell down my neck, trailing under my warm sweater. I placed them on his granite island, the boxes coming up about a foot taller than me. Hoseok came out of his room shirtless, a pair of Nike workout shorts only wrapped around his torso, his hair was damp from sweat that had collected as he moved the furniture in his room. He walked with a slight waddle as he made his way to the stainless fridge, grabbing a water bottle he chugged it down.

A soft chuckle left his now damp esophagus. “Don’t stare too much (y/n) your eyes might break.”

Awkwardly, I snapped out of my trance and reached up for the highest box, bringing it down to my height. Two arms surrounded my body, vainy hands perched on the counter, I could feel his chest muscles slightly tensing. “Why didn’t you tell me you find me attractive and/or like me?” He questioned, I was frozen.

Clearing my throat, I gained some of my normal confidence and spun around, now being at an equal level to his chin. I gazed up at his brown orbs. “I’m a busy person.” Was all that came flowing out. ‘What the hell, (y/n)?!’ I internally shouted. Of all things to say, that was all that came out.

“Ah, and you think I’m not?”

“No, I don’t want to start something I can’t finish.” I shrugged halfheartedly, or.. ‘I’m too scared to start something that I know won’t be reciprocated.’ I repeated to myself.

“ What if I want to make it work and finish?” He questioned, a slight pout left his plump lips. His body came closer to mine, pinning me to the counter.

“Hey, I’m sweaty from helping..” I tried to counter argue.

No movement from him. “I don’t care, tell me you don’t want to kiss me right now and I’ll stop and we can pretend nothing happened.” His damn lips were a marketing tactic for a long ride ahead, figuratively and literally. “That’s what I thought.” And his lips met mine, as simple as that. No crazy intricate ‘fireworks’ or cheesy quotes. Just two adults making out in the kitchen.

He pulled away, his hand under my jawline, thumb pressed to my cheek. A kind and shy smile spread upon his cute face. “How long have you kept these feelings from me?” I questioned him, my hands were laid softly on his lower back. Pulling him in more, no space between our vastly different bodies.

“About three months? When you started your latest come back?” When I had come over drunk the night of my MV release and baked cookies all night.. the night I was so trashed I danced to the poppy music I grew up to and baked in his sweatshirt I found lying on the couch. The morning him and Jooheon woke up to me passed out on the couch with a plate of cookies sleeping on my stomach. “I didn’t think I would like you this much, but I’m glad it is being reciprocated. You lying there on my couch in my sweater, chocolate faced and cuddling a plate of sweets. Damn, I couldn’t help it.” He chuckled, stretching the back of his damp neck with his fingertips.

“You ate all those cookies before I even woke up..” I awkwardly laughed at his tender confession.

“Well, would you like to officially go on a date? Or just stand in this position?” He winked, knowing he was shirtless and sweaty, he grabbed my chin between his index finger and thumb and pecked my lips. “Get ready princess, I have an idea.”

And with that, three years later, here I lay, my head in the crook of my now fiancés neck. The morning sun muted from the white curtains that swayed in the breeze. We had gotten a new apartment, not as fancy as the last but definitely bigger. His muscular arms were secured around me, almost protectively so I couldn’t leave him in the middle of the night for water. His light snores and hushed speaking silenced as his eyes opened. Looking down, he saw my gaze and smiled wholeheartedly. Hugging me tighter, we laid engulfed in each other’s realities.