#it's also a complete series which is tempting. i love when something is Finished.

[letyukisayfuck]

so like in theory i could just buy all of the doujin lns. in practice this is what we call a Bad Idea but historically i am somewhat prone to those so we'll see what the future holds

[justauthoring]

and i wonder... who? [5]

somehow, you find yourself torn between the two hottest guys at your school and you have no idea who to choose. loosely based off of operation: true love where geto is eunhyeuk and gojo is dohwa :)

a/n: sooooo satosugu won the poll so this is officially a satosugu x reader series! (just might be a bit of slowwww burnnn)

pairing: geto suguru x f!reader, gojo satoru x f!reader, satosugu x f!reader

tag list: @username23356-blog - @anxious-chick - @novacaneformybrain - @mandysfanfics - @rottmntrulesall - @voiceofnoreturn - @rh-tg1 - @ky0mybeloved - @black-swan-blog27 - @ladytamayolover - @the8ate - @maybe-a-bi-with - @dudalo100 - @reese-is-right - @6lonely-town6 - @its-a-damn-blue-brick - @kimi01985 - @dorusken - @siimp4youu - @catobsessedlady - @paper--angel - @animechick555 - @meshiinuma - @xxannyxx - @kaeyaviado - @kochochan-shinobulvrrs - @ichikanu - @valeriinee let me know if you'd like to added! also i still don't know how to fix the tags - it works in editing but doesn't link some when i post it. if anyone knows how to fix this, please let me know!

It was hot.

Blindingly so.

Still, you refused to take off your sweater even if you desperately wanted to. You were just thankful that your school allowed you to wear sweaters and hoodies over top of uniforms without getting in trouble for it and although normally that was something you only had to worry about in the winter, you had no choice but to today.

If you took off your sweater, then people would see the finger-sized marks across your arms from Sukuna yesterday and really, you just didn’t have the energy to deal with the questions that would inevitably follow. Nor did you want to… let it escalate any further. Sure, you’d managed to get away yesterday and had somehow gained the courage to make your breakup clear to Sukuna, but it didn't erase the fact that he’d scared you last night. And you didn’t want to imagine what would happen if somehow people got word that the bruises on your arms were from him.

It was over, anyways. You’d done it. You’d broken up with him and could now move on from him.

Move on with your life.

“You look hot,” Shoko comments from beside you, regarding you with a raised brow. “Why are you wearing a sweater when it’s blistering hot outside?”

Meeting her eyes, you shrug. “It isn’t that hot.”

“You’re sweating,” she deadpans.

Biting your lip, you choose to ignore the fact that she is very much correct. Your sweater is sticking to your skin from the obnoxious sun that is beating right over your head and the need to relieve some of the heat is more than tempting. But the sight of Sukuna running past you, meeting his dark and intimidating eyes just briefly, reminds you of why you’re keeping your sweater on.

“I just finished running,” you explain which, you guessed, wasn’t completely a lie. You were sweating because you’d just finished running but you were sweating a lot because of that and the fact that you were wearing a sweater… Shoko didn’t need to know that though. 

Meeting her eyes from the corner of your own, you nod to yourself. “I’m actually a little cold.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Y-Yeah,” you breathe, fighting the urge to break under her intense stare. You didn’t even need to be looking directly at her to feel the intensity of it – if there was one thing Shoko was good at, it was seeing through your every lie. You figured that talent came with knowing you for as long as she had… still didn’t make it any less scary thought.

“Like a cold sweat.”

It’s clear she doesn’t believe you, the suspicious gaze in her eyes never wavering but she has the decency to leave it at that.

You’re incredibly thankful for that fact.

“So, you really did break it off with Ryoumen, huh?”

The two of you are standing by the bleachers while the boys have their turn playing soccer, as per your teachers instructions. The game has been going on for about five minutes now (you only just finally feeling like you’re not about to pass out) and you’ve been spending those five minutes idly chatting with Shoko and desperately trying not to ogle Geto who looks a little too good on the field right now.

Seriously, when did you start to find him attractive?

It wasn’t like you didn’t know he was attractive — of course you did. The whole female population of your school knew that Geto Suguru was attractive. You’re pretty sure he had his own little fanclub of girls that followed him around and you swear you’ve caught one of them asking him out in the hallway more times than you care to admit. So yes, objectively, you knew Geto was attractive. Incredibly attractive.

But you hadn’t really paid any of that mind until now.

It was like a fact. A statement. It hadn’t had any impact on you previously, and yet, here you were, practically drooling at the sight of him.

“–Hello? Y/N?”

A hand falls on your shoulder, the sudden touch making you jump as your eyes snap to Shoko. She’s staring back at you in concern, head tilted and brows furrowed as you blink over at her.

“I asked you a question?”

Had she?

Eyes briefly glancing back at Geto before focusing on her, you rub the back of your neck.

“Whoops,” you mumble bashfully, “sorry. What was it again? I… spaced out.” 

Rolling her eyes, Shoko just snorts; “I asked if you really did break things off with Sukuna.”

“Oh!” Your eyes instantly brighten up, turning to face her fully. “I did!”

Shoko grins; “yes!” Pumping her fist in the air, she turns to you. “I’ve literally been waiting for you to do that forever.”

Rolling your eyes, you just snort. “I know, I know,” you wave her off, before pausing. You had no intention of telling her about how angry Sukuna had gotten, but it would be good to get it off your chest even a little. You just wouldn’t mention the bruise thing—besides, Shoko had said she wanted every little detail. 

So, turning to her, you grin; “it was so awkward though and—”

“Shoko!”

Lips left parted in the middle of your sentence, both you and Shoko glance behind her, only to see a group of girls from another class waving at her to grab her attention. The excitement on your face fades somewhat at that, leaning back on your feet as Shoko waves back at them before glancing over at you apologetically,

“I—”

“It’s all good,” you brush off before she can apologize, waving her concern away. “Go. I’ll wait here for you.”

Shoko hesitates. “Are you sure?”

Shaking your head, you squeeze her shoulder; “of course. Go.”

With one more hesitant glance your way, Shoko nods, mouthing a ‘thank you’ before making her way over. You watch her for a moment longer before letting your eyes fall around, eyes momentarily meeting Sukuna’s and swiftly turning your head away, you move, making your way over to the bleachers on the side of the field. A few of the other girls from your class have sat down, chatting amongst themselves, and with nothing better to do, you take a seat near a corner, pulling your legs to your chest and opting to simply watch the boys.

You knew Shoko cared about you, just like you cared about her but it sucked knowing that some of the other girls wanted to be her friend but didn’t want to be yours. Anytime you’d tried to talk with her other friends before, it had just been awkward. And not something you wanted to repeat.

Sighing, you let your head fall on top of your knees.

At least you could watch Geto with no interruptions now.

“Boo!”

Or not…

Flickering your gaze to the right, your lips part when you realize it’s Gojo sitting beside you.

“Gojo!”

With a wide grin and a wink, Gojo offers you a wave.

You glance around before settling back on him, baffled. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh… here for gym class?” Gojo explains with a snort, using his thumb to point behind him and following his direction, your lips part when you see a group of girls occupying the field next to the one you’re sitting in front of. Focusing back on Gojo and the line sheen of sweat covering his skin, you put the pieces together.

“Oh,” your lips form a ‘o’, “I forgot other classes had gym at the same time as us.” Cheeks warming, you bite your lip, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear in embarrassment.

Gojo takes a moment to eye you before laughing; “you’re weird, you know that?”

Lips parting in offense, you shove at his shoulder; “that’s rude!”

“No,” Gojo laughs, your shove barely moving him an inch, “what’s rude is you calling me Gojo.”

Confused, you turn to him; “is that not your name?”

“It is,” he assures, “but it’s too formal. I thought I made it clear; call me Satoru.”

You’re sure your face grows hot at that.

“B-But! That’s too friendly!” You argue, waving your hands in front of you widely. “We only just started talking and—”

“And we’re already close,” Gojo cuts in, smiling cheekily. “So what’s the problem?”

Shoulders slumping, you just frown at him. “You’re ridiculous.”

Gojo just takes the insult in stride, leaning in close so his face is right in front of yours. You instinctively lean back, surprised by his sudden closeness as you press against the side of the bleachers. It doesn’t seem to bother Gojo who only grows closer; you can feel his side press into your arm and his leg knock into your folded one, not to mention all you can see is those bright, beautiful blue eyes staring at you.

“U-um…—”

“And you’re adorable.”

Okay, now you’re sure you’re red in the face.

“G-Gojo–!”

“Satoru,” he cuts in, waving his finger at you. “Repeat after me. Sa-To-Ru.”

You stare back at him, wishing he’d back up even a little because he was too close and it was making you feel a way you didn't know how to react to. You’d already been sweating because of the damn sweater before, but now you probably look like a hot mess and your mind is running a mile a minute just to come up with something to say.

“Come on,” Gojo sings softly, voice low so only you can hear but still sweet and soft. “Say it.”

Lips parting, you ignore the racing of your heart; “Sa… Satoru.”

With a sudden jump, he’s pulled back, sitting up straight next to you as he grins wide, ear to ear; “see?” He exclaims, “that wasn’t so hard. It’s much better if you just call me by my first name, kay, Y/N?”

You’re frazzled. You know you’re frazzled. Even though Gojo has leaned back like you wanted him to, your heart is still racing and you feel flushed. 

Was it just your imagination or had he also smelled really good?

“O-okay.”

Pleased by your answer, Gojo finally lets his eyes wander down, pausing when he sees what you’re wearing.

“Aren’t you warm?”

Oh god… not this again.

“No,” you deny with a shake of your head, hugging yourself. “I’m perfectly fine.”

Gojo just quirks a brow. “You look warm.” He states bluntly.

You huff — what was with everyone questioning you on wearing a damn sweater? Was it that hard to believe?

“For your information—”

You stop what you’re saying the second a shadow falls over you, completely blocking the sun from falling over you. Confused, you turn, only to pause when you see it’s Geto. You blink at the sight of him, confused, not having expected to see him, glancing over his shoulder to the field to see, like you thought, the rest of the boys are still playing and yet…

“Geto—”

“Did you bring my hoodie?”

His voice is harsh. Harsher than you expected. By the way he falters the second he meets your eyes properly, you figure he didn’t mean to sound that angry but you’re still confused as to why he even would be in the first place.

Was he upset you hadn’t given him the hoodie back earlier?

You also have not failed to notice how still Gojo is beside you suddenly.

“U-Um… Yeah, it’s in my bag. One sec.”

Reaching behind you to grab your bag, you’re oblivious to the way Gojo and Geto glare at each other, each with a certain fierceness and determination in their gaze before swiftly glancing away the second you turn back around.

“Here,” you call, smiling up at Geto as you extend his folded sweater to his awaiting hands. “I made sure it didn’t have any stains on it or anything after I washed, so it should be good. Thank you again for letting me borrow it.”

Geto’s face eases as he meets your eyes and he smiles softly; “it’s no problem. Thank you for washing it.” Then, as if almost an afterthought, he adds; “I’m sorry I couldn’t stay longer at your place to wait for it.”

You miss the way Gojo straightens at that.

“Oh, no!” You brush off, shaking your head. “I’m sorry you had to even give it to me in the first place.”

“Um,” Gojo cuts in, pulling your eyes on him with a blink as he shifts his gaze from Geto to you, offering you a somewhat tight-lipped smile. “Why did you have Geto’s hoodie in the first place?”

You’re a little confused as to why he cares, but—

“I accidentally spilled my soda on her and it made her shirt see-through and she was cold, so I offered it to her.”

Well, he didn’t need to go into that kind of detail—

“Oh?” Gojo asks, but something about his tone sounds strained and tense. “Is that so?”

Lips parting, you watch as the two of them glare at each other.

“U-um,” you speak up nervously, shifting forward; both of their eyes instantly fall on you, features softening. “Do you two… not like each other or something?”

The two glance at each other again.

Gojo’s the first to speak up; “not particularly.”

“We’ve never gotten along,” Geto elaborates. “That’s all.”

“I see…” You mumble, before your eyes brighten with a sudden idea; “well, hey! There's always a first, right?”

And the answer is clear to them both;

No way in hell.

Still, for you, they hesitate.

“Maybe,” Geto shrugs, brushing a bit of sweat off his forehead.

Gojo sighs dramatically; “if I’d have to.”

You’re oblivious to it all — eyes twinkling with excitement, you smile brightly. Truly, a brilliant idea has come to mind.

“Isn’t that amusement park opening up soon? I think… this weekend?” You ask, “you two should go together!”

Geto and Gojo frown at one another.

If there’s one thing the two of them can agree upon, it’s that that seems like the worst idea.

The two of them? Alone? At an amusement park?

What could honestly possess you to think that’s a good idea?

Geto, however, looks at you a moment later and smirks, clearly proud of himself; “I dunno about him, but I’d go with you.” And he sends a smug grin Gojo’s way, clearly thinking he’d effectively worked his way around not only having to disappoint you by saying no to your original idea but, getting you to go with him instead.

Gojo gasps, as if thoroughly offended.

“Really?” Your eyes brighten.

Geto smiles, nodding.

“Then let’s go!” You exclaim excitedly and Geto is just about to turn to Gojo with a victory smirk, before you add; “the three of us! When are you guys free next?”

Wait–what? 

-

Geto is not really sure how he got himself into this situation.

Like really – how?

“She’s late.”

Pressing a hand to his forehead, Geto resists the urge to let his annoyance get the best of him. But really–truly–he was at his final straw.

“You’ve said that three times,” Geto grumbles, offering a quick glance beside him at the white-haired bastard that just couldn’t help but take you up on your offer. Then, imagine Geto’s surprise when he shows up at your agreed upon time just to see that you hadn’t shown up yet but Gojo had—and Geto’s pretty sure that the guy was normally late to everything. Late to class, late to tests, meetups, hangouts, etc. so of course it was just his luck that today is the day Gojo decides he’s going to show up on time.

And you aren’t.

Letting out a whine, Gojo pushes off the wall he’d been leaning against, moving until he’s directly beside Geto and the two of them are now staring out at the entrance way, waiting for you.

“It’s true, though,” Gojo mumbles, and Geto can distinctly see him pouting out of the corner of his eye. “She’s ten minutes late.”

Geto just huffs.

“What exactly is your problem?” Gojo asks instantly, and Geto can feel him shift to face him. “You’ve been glaring at me this entire time.”

Feeling that final straw snap, Geto spins to face Gojo in return, narrowed eyes focusing in on his own as Geto shakes his head. “You aren’t supposed to be here.”

Gojo just laughs; “I was invited, wasn’t I?”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Geto scoffs; “not by me.”

“Still butt hurt that Y/N invited me along?” Gojo taunts, looking entirely too smug as he steps closer to Geto. Gojo might be shorter, but only by an inch, and it isn’t hard for him to size Geto up just as easily as Geto is trying to size him up. “You think I’m all that happy about you being here either?”

“Then leave?” Geto questions, as if that was the obvious answer–which, obviously, it was. “I’m the one who asked Y/L/N first so really, you aren’t needed here whatsoever.”

Gojo just leans back; “if I left I’d be doing exactly what you want. Last I checked, Y/N does want me here.”

Feeling his head hurt and his body tense, Geto shoves at his shoulder; “what’s with the lack of formality? You refer to Y/L/N so casually, I didn’t realize you guys were that close.” Pausing in thought (for dramatic effect), Geto glowers at Gojo. “Last I checked, Y/L/N didn’t even know who you were before a couple days ago.”

“What?” Gojo raises a brow challengingly, “jealous we’re close enough that she calls me ‘Satoru’?” Shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants, Gojo leans back. “She says it so prettily, too, don’t you think? I mean, I absolutely love the way she says my name.

He truly was unbelievable. Geto didn’t realize there could be someone who pissed him off so damn much… He’s never really liked the guy, and despite the fact that for most of his life Geto has unfortunately gone to the same school as Gojo, his level of hatred was reaching a height it never had before.

Before, Gojo was just some annoying guy Geto didn’t bother to pay attention to. Not if he didn’t have to.

He can still remember the way he’d felt seeing the two of you laughing and talking that day on the bleachers – Geto was positive that he’s never seen the two of you talk before and certainly not enough to warrant such a friendly interaction. If Geto hadn’t calmed himself down before, he was sure he’d have made a fool out of himself when he interrupted the two of you but taking the calm approach seemed to have it’s rewards and Geto will never forget the look of stunned disbelief on Gojo’s face when you handed him his hoodie.

He’d definitely have to give you his clothes more – this time, have you wear them where everyone could see.

And then he’d thought he’d perfectly worked his way around your silly suggestion of hanging with Gojo – and then you just had to go and invite Gojo with the two of you? 

Geto didn’t realize you could be so oblivious.

Honestly—he’d told himself he’d try to play nice with Gojo, for you. Even if Gojo was there, it didn’t change Geto’s plan of trying to woo you and catch your attention. If Gojo wanted to hang back as a third wheel then that was his choice, Geto wasn’t going to let that stop him from making a move on you.

But really, he was at his limit. 

He couldn’t even think of ‘playing nice’ with Gojo when he was this egotistical.

Inhaling sharply, Geto moves to take a step towards Gojo, Gojo straightening out in response, before your familiar voice calls out;

“Ooh! I’m so sorry!”

Both Geto and Gojo freeze at the sound of your voice, eyes shifting to fall on you as you come to a slow step before them. You’re panting, pressing a hand to your chest as you try to catch your breath, making it clear you’d run here, but what really catches Geto’s attention is what you’re wearing.

A flowery, pink sundress. It had cute puffy sleeves and the material bunched around your chest with a bow, with the length of the skirt stopping just above your knees. It swayed gently in the wind, brushing upwards to show the faintest hint of your upper thighs. The whole outfit was put together with some accessories, cute sandals and a hairstyle Geto had never seen you wear at school before.

Geto, despite himself, feels his cheeks grow pink, a flush hitting him as he quickly glances away from you to situate himself. It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought you were pretty before (that was abundantly clear given his actions) but it was a little different seeing you in something other than your school uniform. And, technically, the arcade hadn’t counted—given that he’d dumped soda all over your blouse before he could properly take in what you were wearing.

A quick glance at Gojo tells him his reaction isn’t that much different.

“My mom needed my help with something and I completely lost track of time!” You explain, turning to them with a worried expression as you finally manage to catch your breath properly. “Were you guys waiting for long?”

“Not at all–!”

“No–!” 

Lips left parted, Geto glares at Gojo out of the corner of his eye—Gojo returns it with ease.

“O-Oh,” you mumble, briefly glancing at the both of them in confusion before taking a step towards them. “Well, then… should we get going?”

Without hesitation, Geto steps forward before Gojo has the chance to and flashes a soft smile in your direction; “let’s go.”

[tgmsunmontue]

Saga of Solitude 10/21

Nepo!Baby Bradley and his life at USNA and afterwards. DADT fully in force. IceMav AU. (Begun prior to 'It's not who you know' - the non-angsty version). (Side Hangster, which is ALSO angsty).

PROLOGUE (He remembers)

HANGSTER FIRST MEETING (Lonely Nights - set 2009)

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

ONE (2000) TWO (2001) THREE (2002) FOUR (2003) FIVE (2004) SIX (2005) SEVEN (2006) EIGHT (2007) NINE (2008)

CHAPTER TEN - 2009

                “I think I might be done.”

                Tom almost drops the phone and he sits up straighter, knuckles tight.

                “What?”

                “You heard me. I think I might be done. Not with flying. Just… active duty. Think I might try out for that test pilot program you keep leave lying around. You’re not subtle.”

                “Mav…”

                “Best of both worlds right? I still get to fly, but I’m not on the other side of the world. I feel like I’ve been lucky so far, but I don’t want to…”

                He doesn’t finish whatever it is he’s thinking, but Tom can fill in the blanks with a multitude of endings. There’s Bradley of course, but he’s twenty-five. But Tamsin is only twelve and Petra is ten. He knows Mav doesn’t want to leave any of them. He could add himself in there, if he thought that maybe he was enough for Mav to consider giving up active duty. He’s never been enough before, and he’d never be a fool enough to ask Mav to stop doing something he loves, no matter how much Tom worries.

                The days tick past and he hasn’t felt this settled or optimistic since Mav briefly took a break and simply remained in reserves when Carole got sick. Just the knowledge that he won’t be on active duty in a war zone makes him feel ridiculously pleased, even if at the same time he worries about Bradley. Lord he’s glad that the girls are local and he doesn’t need to worry about them other than standard parenting worries. He hopes they pick nice quiet and safe jobs, because as he gets older, he’s not sure his heart is going to take it if it has the same series of shocks it’s experienced with Maverick.

                His next phone conversation doesn’t happen until a couple of weeks later and he finds out the Maverick has requested all the paperwork necessary and submitted an application. He doesn’t let his shock bleed through, but he definitely feels it, accompanied by the realization that when Mav gets home from this deployment he won’t be leaving American soil for a mission again, not if he gets any say in the matter. And he knows someone will ask. He may love Maverick, but he also isn’t blind to any of his faults and his peers know that at least.

                “I’m 48, they probably think I’ve calmed down enough in my old age to give me a shot right?”

                Ice keeps his mouth shut, because he’s made it a rule to try not to lie and he doesn’t think anyone in the Navy will ever assume Maverick has calmed down.

                “You’re definitely qualified for the position. They’d be lucky to have you,” is what he settles on instead.

…            …            …

                “Can we have a movie night daddy?”

                “Of course. As long as the two of you can both compromise on one movie and not argue over it,” Tom says, because listening to them bicker gets exhausting. He knows he’s giving Melissa and Sarah a break most weekends by having them come and stay with him, and he wouldn’t have it any other way, but he finds himself admiring parents who do it all the time with no break in sight. He is so grateful that he has them, but he’s also certain that they enjoy Bradley’s company over his, with them all sharing equal levels of energy.

                “Kung Fu Panda!”

                Tom looks between them and they’re both nodding vigorously; he feels like he’s been set up, tempted to message Sarah and check in to see whether this particular movie has been vetoed for any particular reason. It seems completely benign and he watches it, entertained by the different characters and enjoying having his daughters curled up on either side of him. Tamsin is drifting off, clearly not quite as engaged with the story as Petra, but he’s not going to rouse her and tell her to go to bed, happy to have her slumped against him. It’s not until later, when he’s carried Tamsin, still asleep, up to her bed and come back down to find Petra chopping at the pillows that he realizes his mistake.

                “Daddy? Can I have kung fu lessons?”

                Of course, the warning was right there in the title of the movie. He should have known. She is such a daredevil and so full of energy and god she reminds him of Pete with every smile. He knows he can never say no to her, the best he can do is delay and hope that either she forget (unlikely), or someone else will tell her no.

                “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

                “Okay! Love you daddy. Good night!”

                “Love you too peanut. Good night…”

…            …            …

                He swings his bag over his shoulder, feels buoyant as he walks toward the spot where everyone is disembarking. He knows he’s got his family waiting and he’s got four more weeks before Mav finishes his own deployment, has spoken to him about his plans to withdraw from active duty if his application for test pilot training is accepted and Bradley knows they won’t be turning someone with Mav’s experience down. But there are two golden weeks where all seven of them will be together and he cannot wait.

                “Expect your wife is going to make you shave that off before she lets you within five yards of her…” Bradley calls out to Flipper, who just laughs and gives him the finger.

                “Like you can grow a better one!” Fin yells back and Bradley laughs.

                “I can grow a better moustache in my sleep.”

                “Photos, or it didn’t happen!”

                “You’re on!”

…            …            …

                “I’m not a baby Bradley…”

                “You’re not even half my age,” Bradley replies, trying his best to keep his amusement from his tone. Tamsin will be a teenager at the end of the year, something he’s sort of in denial about, can still remember his early days of being a teenager himself and Sarah carefully placing infant Tamsin in his arms.

                “Which makes you ancient.”

                “If I’m ancient, what does that make your dad?”

                “A zombie. Have you seen him?”

                Bradley snorts, because Ice definitely looks half-dead, but he’s putting that down to his worry over Maverick, who is in the Middle East, but he should be home in about a week. Not soon enough judging from the dark circle under Ice’s eyes. Although the fact that Ice is for some reason now letting Petra try out a variety of martial arts may also be part of his worry. But it means he gets one-on-one time with Tamsin, who definitely seems to have something on her mind.

                “Bradley.”

                “Yeah. Sorry. I’ll stop changing the subject. Hit me with the serious question you wanted to ask me.” God he hopes it isn’t about sex.

                “Do you think my parents loved each other?”

                Fuck. Sex would be easier. Maybe?

                “Uh… Why do you ask?”

                Shit. He is not equipped for this conversation at all.

                “I just… they seem to love each other. I don’t get why they got divorced.”

                Oh. Okay. Maybe he is equipped to answer this after all.

                “Well, you know your mom is a lesbian right?”

                “So getting married and having me and Petra was a mistake?”

                Double shit. Reverse. Undo. Back track. Fuck.

                “No. I’m pretty sure it was anything but a mistake. I think you and Petra are both very wanted and much loved. Uh. Have you talked to any of your parents about this?”

                “No. I don’t want to upset them.”

                He’s trying to remember how old he was when they told him, how old he was when he figured it out. He knows Ice and Sarah won’t be upset, that they’ve probably been prepared for this conversation for years. And yet she’s having it with him.

                “I just wonder sometimes because I look at Petra and she looks so much more like Papa than she does dad. I look like dad. Petra looks at least a little bit like mom.”

                “Uh. Yeah. I noticed that too. That’s very observant of you.”

                Where the fuck is Ice when he needs him?

                “Do you think my mom had an affair?”

                “No. I know she didn’t… shit.”

                “You’re not meant to swear.”

                “Yeah. I know. This is just… I really think you need to talk to your mom and dad about this.”

                “Why? What’s so bad that you can’t tell me?”

                “Fuck…” Bradley breathes out.

                “You’re really not meant to say that word…”

                “Yeah. Okay. I’m going to tell you. But I’m going to be telling your parents, all of them, that I’ve told you. So you can go and talk with them and ask questions, because… I was your age when your parents got married. I do not have all the details.”

                “Okay. So tell me, what happened?”

                He gives the bare bones, explains, as best he can, about DADT. Agrees with her when she calls it stupid. Talks about his own parents and how both Ice and Mav married women, his mom being one of them, Sarah being the other. He ends up getting a picture of his parents from his room to show her and then holding her as she cries, realizing that he’d lost both his parents when he’d been her age.

                He explains how and why Ice and Mav hide their relationship, that he also won’t be bringing a girlfriend home anytime soon. Isn’t planning on having a relationship anytime soon because it’s simply in the too hard basket. Then he brings up the fact that she is very observant, that Petra does indeed look like Mav, and that’s because Mav is her biological dad. Her eyes are wide, mouth open in surprise and he wonders if he’s said too much. Hopes like hell that trusting his gut is going to have been the right thing to do, that Mav and Ice letting him know about his own mom’s wishes and then letting him make his own decisions about his own life. That they’d want Tamsin to also know the truth of the matter, especially as she’s asking questions.

                “Can I swear?”

                “Sure. Go ahead.”

                “Holy shit.”

                Bradley throws back his head and laughs.

…            …            …

                Knowing that this is his last time is bittersweet. He walks over the deck and lets his fingers trail over the railing. He didn’t join to live his life on a carrier, being on a carrier is just a necessity for somewhere for the planes to land and refuel before they can get back into the sky. He misses the sky every time he’s on the ground, needs the wide open spaces which is why he likes going out to the hangar so much, the sheer amount of space around him makes it feel like he’s close to being in the sky. As he disembarks he can see Bradley standing and waiting, Tamsin and Petra beside him and his throat works, because he’s home, and safe, and he won’t have to leave them again wondering if he’ll not make it home.

…            …            …

                “Jesus kid, you look like you dad.”

                “Uh. Sorry. Do you want me to shave it?”

                “No!” Pete says, vehement. “Shit Bradley. You’re allowed to look like your dad. You do that without even trying. Just took me by surprise. He’d be tickled pink and so proud of you. Your mom would be too, scared shitless every time you were out of sight, but she’d still be so proud. We’re proud of you too you know. All of us. Ice, Sarah, Melissa. You’ve turned into this amazing capable man and I’m immensely proud to call you my son…”

                “Uh. Thanks. I think you all had a lot to do with how I’ve turned out…”

                “We tried to help point you in the right direction, but you’re the one who put in the hard work.”

                “And you and Ice taught me all about hard work.”

                “I guess we did.”

                “Can I ask you something?”

                “Of course, you can ask me anything.”

                “When you taught me how to shave… did you feel old?”

                “Old? No. Not old. But… a little sad I guess?”

                “Sad?”

                “Well, that your dad wasn’t the one teaching you. That you weren’t this little kid anymore. I was glad I got to be there for it… You planning on keeping that caterpillar?”

                “No. Just growing it for a dare. Why?”

                “I have something of your dad’s. He was ridiculously proud of his moustache, had this little kit that your mom bought him, little comb and brush, little pair of scissors. Been keeping it safe, if you end up needing it for your own then I guess I better get it out of storage…”

                “I… thanks Mav. I’ll be shaving it off before I report back though. Too annoying to maintain and keep tidy.”

                “Okay. Well, you let me know if you change your mind.”

…            …            …

                “You want to do my hair?”

                “Yeah! Can we but bows in it?”

                “Have at it,” Bradley says, so glad they’re both still willing to be a little silly with him. He knows with the current state of the US military he’s never going to have kids, not unless he figures something out with Natasha and he doesn’t think she’d put her career on hold and he wouldn’t expect her to. So he will make do with what he has and enjoy it as much as he can in the moment, knows Tamsin is very much on the cusp of not doing this again, is simply

                “Why don’t you always let it grow long?”

                “Navy doesn’t allow us to have long hair.”

                “They Navy is dumb,” Tamsin says, pouting as she runs a sparkly purple comb through his curls, and Bradley bites down on his lips to hide a grin. She’s been quite vocal to him about how stupid she thinks the whole institution is, although very careful not to say it within hearing of either Ice or Mav. Although Mav has just appeared in the door, eye bright with mischief as he takes in the scene.

                “You look very pretty Bradley.”

                “Thank you. They worked very hard to make me look this good.”

                “Papa! Come sit!”

                Bradley laughs at the expression on Mav’s face, but then he’s sinking to the floor beside him and Petra is putting bows in his hair as well and he’s pretty sure he’s never seen Mav look happier. The dark circles under Ice’s eyes have also gone so Bradley is pretty sure everything is right with their world.

…            …            …

                Tamsin looks miserable and Bradley isn’t sure what he can do, needs to immediately fix whatever it is that is making her look like this. They’ve grown closer during this leave period, with their conversation making her feel more like an adult, at least with him. Fortunately he’d been commended for how he’d handled the conversation with her, the approval of all his parental figures had hit him hard and unexpected, not aware how much he still wanted and needed it.

                “What’s wrong?”

                “Nothing.”

                “Uh. You look sad though.”

                “I’m allowed to be sad!” Tamsin snaps and Bradley’s eyebrows shoot up.

                “Can you tell me why you’re sad?”

                “I can’t go swimming…”

                Bradley blinks, confused.

                “Um. Why not?”

                “Because I have my period.”

                He rears back, the shock of the fact and the straightforward statement taking him completely by surprise. Sure they were like brother and sister, but this was new.

                “Since when?”

                “Since this morning. It’s not contagious. Stop looking at me like that!”

                “Um. Sorry. Just, uh, I kind of… you’re growing up I guess and that’s just…”

                “Making you feel really old?”

                “Yeah, little bit. Shit.”

                “You think it’s shit for you? You’re not the one that has to have it every month…”

                “I apologize on behalf of my entire gender.”

                “Good. You should be sorry.”

                He bites his lip and nods his head, holy hell she’s going to be a force to be reckoned with and he really should have invited Natasha home with him. Next time.

                “How about we go ice skating instead?”

                “Oh! Yes! But don’t let Petra bully you into playing hockey. She can wait until the season starts again.”

                “Petra is playing hockey?”

                “Duh. She tried field hockey but then complained it wasn’t fast enough. I think mom is a little worried she’s going to steal the car and take it for a ride.”

                “Ha. Hahahaha,” Bradley laughs nervously, because hold shit if he didn’t already know she was Mav’s kid, hearing that she likes things fast and a little dangerous. “How is her skateboarding going?”

                “Good. She’s managing some really cool things now. We should go to the skatepark so she can practice.”

                “You’re a good big sister.”

                “Thanks. I had a good big brother to show me what not to do.”

                “Hey!”

                “Kidding! I love you Bradley.”

                “Love you too Tamsin.”

…            …            …

                With a sense of dejavu he reads the news. Gay marriage has been legalized in Iowa and also Vermont. That’s four different states now. It’s like a domino effect and after decades of hiding.

…            …            …

                “Sir.”

                “Aubrey. What is it.”

                “Sorry sir. Nothing.”

                From experience Tom knows it is definitely not nothing. Aubrey takes her breaks with all the other support staff and has some convoluted but incredibly invaluable way of hearing of things before they become issues which he then finds he has to deal with.

                “Clearly it isn’t nothing. What have you heard this time?”

                He hasn’t told her about his little note-book, but he suspects she has something similar, even if it’s only in her own head.

                “You’ve known Captain Mitchell for a long time sir.”

                Inwardly Tom groans to himself, wonders what the hell he’s done now.

                “Yes. Over twenty years.”

                “A good friend then sir.”

                “Yes. My best friend.”

                She looks torn then and he frowns, wonders what she knows that he potentially hasn’t already heard about from someone else in the Navy. Maverick is not known for being quiet or passing unnoticed, which is why he suspects that their relationship has gone unremarked upon for so many years, many people assuming Maverick could not keep something like that secret.

                “Maverick was seen going into your ex-wife’s house… at nearly midnight.”

                He doesn’t let his surprise show, because while he knows there is gossip he’d never expected to hear it from his assistant. Also this is something he knows about, because Maverick took his car, because the bike would have been far too noisy at midnight.

                “Okay. Just to be clear, you think that Maverick is having an affair with my ex-wife?”

                “Isn’t he meant to be your best friend sir?”

                Oh. Wow. There goes the idea that she had clocked him.

                “Okay. Yes. He is my best friend. In fact his late-wife, Bradley’s mom, introduced me to Sarah. However Sarah and Maverick are grown consenting adults… However, if we’re talking about last week, well Maverick was there because Melissa was working a night shift, Sarah and the girls were sick and I couldn’t risk getting sick and Mav is on leave…”

                “Oh.”

                He swallows nervously, because he’d sort of assumed that she had put everything together, that he and Mav were more than just friends. However the fact that she thinks… well, thought. Until he just cleared that up.               

                “Melissa? The woman Captain Mitchell brought to the dinner last year?”

                “Yes. My ex-wife’s… wife,” Tom provides, and this is potentially where all his well-craft duplicity comes undone, however he’s never been wrong yet with where he’s laid his trust.

                “Oh. Oh. Sir.”

                “Was there a question in there Aubrey?”

                “No sir. Not at all. You have a very lovely family.”

                “Yes. I consider myself very lucky to have them all in my life.”

                “Just so sir.”

…            …            …           

(LONELY NIGHTS FITS HERE - Bradley and Jake hook up the weekend before they both report to Corpus Christi.)

…            …            …

                He’s known in the pit of his stomach that he and Jake were reporting to the same base, however he hadn’t realized that Jake was also a naval aviator and that means their circles of interactions are overlapping too much for his own liking. He doesn’t speak with Jake directly, doesn’t let any sign of recognition show on his face as they’re introduced. Jake is fresh from USNA, bright and eager and smart and also so fucking talented that Bradley can see why he’s here. Without even being aware of it he finds himself tracking Jake’s movements and god, he needs to get it under control and figure out a way to be more subtle otherwise he’s going to bring them both down.

                He wonders if he’d still have slept with him if he’d known.

                He needs to talk to Ice and Mav and figure out how they keep it hidden, because he’s worked too hard to get where he is to let it all crumble apart now.

…            …            …

                “Sir. Captain Mitchell is here to see you.”

                “Of course. Thank you Aubrey. Captain Mitchell, nice to see you again.”

                “And you Admiral.”

                He doesn’t miss the fact that she makes Maverick a cup of coffee.

…            …            …

                Bradley’s normal Saturday afternoon phone call is usually with Mav, and he’s just about to offer to go and get him when it becomes apparent that Bradley maybe wants to talk to him first, words exploding out of him.

                “How do you do it? Have your relationship with Mav and settle for… this weird half-life?”

                God he hopes Bradley is somewhere he can’t be overheard.

                “When it’s that, or the option of not having him in my life at all? It’s an easy decision.”

                On the other end of the line Bradley sucks in a breath, Tom isn’t sure how to take it. Wonders what the hell Bradley has gotten up to when he’s not even been gone two weeks.

                “He’s a rank below me.” It’s Tom’s turn to suck in a sharp breath, but a single rank isn’t unsurmountable. Not when it’s low and there isn’t a large differential of power. “I didn’t even know he was Navy when we hooked up the first time.”

                “The first time?”

                “Well, the first time rolled into the second and then… a couple of days and nights together.”

                “Jesus Bradley. Are you sure he’s not going to make a complaint against you?”

                “I’m not completely sure, but I don’t think he would. He might not like me very much right now, but I don’t think he hates me and would want to implode my career.”

                “Shit Bradley. Look. It’s going to be hard either way. Being with him, not being able to tell anyone, spending months apart, having to pretend you don’t care about him anymore than any other of your shipmates… But that type of hard can be worth it when you come home to each other. Or you make a hard decision now and cut your losses, walk away from it and then always wonder what might have happened…”

                “Yeah. I’ve already cut my losses.”

                “Okay kid. Okay.”

…            …            …

                “Hey Mav.”

                “Bradley. You okay?”

                “Yeah. I’m fine. Just… you know that moustache kit of my dads?”

                “Yes.”

                “Could you send it to me?”

                “Of course buddy. Everything okay?”

                “Yeah. I just… figured I’d try keeping it for a bit. Someone told me I suited it.”

                “Well, they weren’t wrong.”

…            …            …

                On Monday when Tom gets to work he asks Aubrey to collate a list of all current personnel going through flight school at Corpus Christi. Knows one of them is going to be Bradley’s maybe unwise hook-up.

                He also asks her to get him a new note book.

CHAPTER ELEVEN (2010)

[bellaxgiornata]

Love all your posts/works! Definitely devoured FFTD over a weekend and am looking forward to all your updates!

For some fun fake FFTD titles, whatever inspires you….

1. The Spa Day

2. The Special Delivery

3. The Affair

Congrats on 2.5k!!! 🥳

Thank you so much!! 💕 I can't believe how quickly you made it through FFTD because that series is at 400k words now I think? It's massive! And I've definitely got some more updates planned for it!

I'm also sorry my response is so so late! I've had my summary ideas to 1 & 3 sitting in my head for awhile, but 2 stumped me for a bit and then I had the baby and I didn't have nearly as much time to write, edit, update, and finish responding to all of these! 😭 But hopefully it was worth the wait! My answers are below the cut as usual since these are sort of long. And honestly I'm sort of tempted to incorporate all three of these into FFTD possibly....

The Spa Day

Matt has been running himself into the ground at the office during the day and as Daredevil during the night. For weeks Reader has been watching him and steadily growing more and more upset with how constantly worn down he is. Then one night she finally forces him to stay in after work. She calls it ‘the Devil's spa day’ in which she helps Matt out of his work clothes, washes him up in the shower, and then brings him to the bedroom for a relaxing massage afterwards complete with some essential oil blend in a diffuser along with some soothing nature sounds. Matt finds the set up adorable even though he teases her about it, but his teasing immediately stops once he realizes just how exhausted and sore he really has been during the massage. 

The Special Delivery

An unmarked, unaddressed box is left at Matt and Reader's apartment while they're gone. Reader comes home after work to see it sitting outside their door and is puzzled over who it's from and what might be inside. Nervous that it might contain something dangerous, she calls Matt at work in a panic about it. The night ends up taking a very interesting turn once she learns what's in the box.

The Affair

Reader begins to disappear in the evenings after work a few times a week. When Matt asks where she's always running off to, she claims that she's just been going to the gym. Matt notices the half truth in her answer every single time and he also notices how quickly she's always changing the subject. A nervous Matt soon begins to think the worst–that she might be seeing someone else. But once he learns the whole truth of what's been going on, he's more furious than anything.

[woozapooza]

The Wire: The Verdict

Umm

Maybe the real wire was the friends we made along the way

I don’t have a lot to say about this show because, as I have said before, I was usually too busy trying to just keep up with what was happening to have brain cells left over for deep thoughts. As I said in that other post, it’s not really a character-driven show, which is why I could never quite fall in love with it. I would have enjoyed it more if we got to spend more time really getting to know the characters, but it’s just not that kind of show. Regardless, even I can tell that it’s an absolutely brilliant work of art, even if I don’t have appropriately brilliant things to say about it.

Favorite character: Probably Omar? It’s hard to choose, because again, I didn’t get to know most of the characters as well as I would have liked, but I’m such a sucker for the Robin Hood thing Omar has got going on. 

Other faves, in no particular order: Stringer (I missed him soooo much in the last two seasons), Freamon (I love when he does his little wood carvings), Pearlman (ginger <3), D’Angelo, Michael and Duquan (package deal; their friendship was one of the most poignant things in the whole show), Bodie, Marlo, McNulty (I would hate him in real life but he’s so entertaining, plus he’s one of the only characters I felt I truly got to know)

Tentative ranking of how much I enjoyed the seasons: 5, 1, 3, 4, 2

I was going to put 3 lower on the list because I didn't care much about the political stuff, but then I remembered that s3 is when the Stringer/Avon dynamic gets really interesting, and that was one of my favorite parts of the whole show.

I 100% see why Black Sails gets compared to this show so often! I’m considering reviving my Every Show Is Black Sails gif series because of The Wire. The problem is, there are SO many parallels, I wouldn’t even know where to start giffing. I would probably have to rewatch The Wire first.

Speaking of which, for much of the show, I was thinking, okay, I’m glad I’m watching this, it’s really good, but I doubt I’ll ever rewatch it from start to finish because I just don’t think I have the motivation for that. But by the time I finished the finale last night, it had won me over enough that now I think I can see myself doing a complete rewatch one day. I’m sure it REALLY rewards rewatching, more so than the average show.

Getting back to the topic of Black Sails—a story is literally true, a story is literally untrue, as time extends it LITERALLY matters less and less! Part of the reason I enjoyed s5 the most was that the plot was a little more over-the-top which kept my stupid little brain entertained, but part of it was also that the theme of truth/untruth and storytelling really came to a head in the final season, and that’s one of my favorite themes a story can have. I mean, by the end, the operations of the police department, the city government, and the newspaper are all basically untethered from material reality, and most of the characters are aware of this, but they can’t do anything about it, because the story has taken on a life of its own, and what could be realer than that? God, that’s like catnip to me. (Also, Scott is such a funny character. I want to punch him so bad.)

I LOVE that the show ended with a montage. I’m such a sucker for montages. I think all of the last three seasons ended with montages? God I love that. I love montages. Every single time.

You know how when you finish something on a streaming service, it recommends something to watch next? Guess what HBO Max suggested I watch after The Wire? That’s right, The Sopranos! I was soooo tempted to dive right into a Sopranos rewatch. I didn’t, because I’m not quite ready yet, but I think I’m close, because the last few episodes of The Wire managed to distract me from The Sopranos ever so slightly, which helped me to calm down about The Sopranos ever so slightly. I’m not quite calm enough, but I think I will be soon.

I had a dream a few nights ago that I visited a haunted house, and there was a scene in the plot of the haunted house that took place in a high school, and Michael was a performer in that scene. I don’t mean that Tristan Wilds the actor was an actor in the haunted house, I mean that Michael Lee the character was an actor in the haunted house. I’d like to think that that’s canon. Actually, yeah, I just decided that the real canon truth was revealed to me in this dream. After the finale, Michael aborts his career as Omar 2.0 to pursue his true calling as a haunted house performer.

I grade shows first and foremost on my own personal feelings, and I didn’t enjoy The Wire quite enough to give it an A or A+, but it’s simply too good to give it anything below the A range. So, overall grade: A-

[anncanta]

...And the Bifrost grew under his feet

Well, I finished watching the second season of Loki. I didn't like it in itself, just as the first one and the whole series. But this is a great example of storytelling.

Two points are important here.

First: the script for the Loki series is very poorly written. This is the case in both seasons. The main characters are slow and move along obvious trajectories, the secondary characters are not memorable at all, and they are saved only by the fact that these inarticulate people and creatures are played by truly talented actors. The conflicts are artificial and the dialogue is terrible.

If you look at the film as a whole, we can conclude that it was written by an author who is not very experienced and does not have very good storytelling skills. But I do not draw this conclusion because of the above. I think so because the author is constantly present in history. He literally sticks out from all the scenes, jumps forward, explains details, tells ideas, and almost reads the series like a play from the podium. Such a sad sight. But here we move on to the next point.

The story never allows itself to be controlled. The story itself governs the author and the work. Therefore, despite all the mentioned shortcomings, the second season of Loki and the film as a whole have a brilliant ending.

Spoilers alert!

Western culture has two fundamental myths. The first is a myth about a deity who creates the world from himself, and the second is about a deity who sacrifices himself for the sake of humanity and the world. It is quite possible that in some sense these are two sides or two ‘chapters’ of the same myth. These myths are meaningful, lying at the beginning of the rest of the body of European stories about the world and human beings. These are something like archetypal blueprints from which everything else is built. Therefore, any story that has a cosmogonic, philosophical, or archetypal component will certainly turn out to be a variant of one of them or will contain elements of them.

Examples can be given for a long time, but if we talk about Marvel, then the closest is the series WandaVision, in one of the episodes of which the story of saving Westview, the city, frozen inside Wanda's consciousness, begins with the fact that Vision (also invented by Wanda) breaks out of the magic dome and begins to fall into pieces. There is both a sacrifice and a creation of reality out of oneself, because when Wanda's quasi-reality, centered on the fake Vision, disappears, the true reality comes back to life, in fact, being born again.

What about Loki? Here it all begins as an alternative version of the story of one of the heroes of Asgard, who seems to get a chance to ‘reform’ and stop being an envious younger brother, a source of chaos and endless problems. If we ignore all the long-winded visual and verbal explanations of the authors, we can say that this is the story of Loki trying to become human.

This is a very tempting idea. For an inhabitant of a world in which those who are able to ‘look after’ other worlds, whom people consider to be deities, live, paradoxically, it is incredibly tempting. Why? Because human beings are a mystery, because their capabilities, desires, discoveries, thoughts, creations, victories, ideas are incredibly annoying and at the same time beautiful, unique, and unlike anything else.

But there is one problem. The one on which Thor stumbled, on which Odin's long life ended, and with which Loki encountered in the series.

A deity cannot be a human. We see how Thor, trying to be ‘just’ a man and a good guy, first becomes an alcoholic, then a restless clown, yearning for himself, and a completely lost creature, until he is reborn in some kind of universal ‘zero’ room and emerges as a truly human being. Because he lived, fought, suffered, rejoiced, and loved as one. We see how Odin displays completely human traits and passions until it comes to the point where the world literally collapses because of him. We see how Sylvie, going into one of the time branches, turns (not only because the authors write poorly) into a hysterical woman and does not notice how the reality around her is disappearing.

Loki is different from all these characters. He has a lot of differences, but the main thing is that he desperately, stubbornly, in all worlds and options, holds on to himself. For being himself. For insisting on his own. Write his own story. In the character of Sylvie, this is taken to the extreme, but Sylvie played too much. She believed that she could become human. She fell in love with free will and decided that it could become a refuge for her anarchy. As a result, she became a boring woman with nothing to say about her. Perhaps this is the logic of the development of monomaniacs.

But the story of Loki shows that no matter how the authors try, no matter what they do, no matter where they push the characters, if the task conditions are Scandinavian Loki, then the story will be written the way it wants. And it will have a completely different plot.

As I said, Loki, from his very first appearance in the Marvel Cinematic Universe until the second season of the series, holds on to himself. But until the very last moment, neither he nor we understand what this means. And only in the episode where he opens the reactor doors and enters the hall with the temporal loom does it blossom.

He remembers himself. Who is he? Odin's youngest son? Ice giant? A trickster magician? The hero who always loses and gets in everyone's way as a problem? Error in the system? Silver glistening with reflected light? Jealous brother?

‘I am Loki Laufeyson,’ he says to himself, and horns grow on him.

It is a recognition and visualization that has very few equals. Either in Marvel or in other films about superheroes and mythological stories. He remembers himself, admits that he will never be human, and does what he was born to do.

He lets time go free, connects the threads, and weaves Yggdrasil from them.

He is there, inside, at the center of the world, which is actually everywhere. He is a quantum reality that is eternally creative and eternally at rest. He becomes the embodiment of time and a metaphor for two ideas. Creations from oneself. And self-sacrifice.

Time is impermanent, time is changeable, time is subjective and incomprehensible. And this is the perfect definition of Loki.

I'm almost sure that the authors did not put this into the story and did not expect it. But they could not resist the image of the hero weaving the threads of the worlds. And it turned out great.

This is one of the best stories about accepting yourself and realizing your talent that I have ever seen.

You can consider this an explanation of the ending.

But this is just a cry of delight.

[frogtanii]

“hi everyone,” you gave your webcam a half hearted wave, noting the flood of inquisitive comments at your demeanor.

ynismymommy: omg queen r u ok??????

emilia.95: Have you been sleeping?

atsumus-leftballsack: bestie imma need you to invest in some concealer

a giggle pried it’s way up your throat, despite your attempts to stop it as you read the comments. yes, you were fully aware that you looked like shit however, you just weren’t expecting the viewers of your stream to be so... observant.

“holy shit guys, i’m okay,” you attempted to placate your vicious audience by giving them a (forced) smile and a small chuckle. “let’s just play, okay?”

you loaded up your game of choice (call of duty — you had a lot of aggression to work off) while making idle chatter with your fanbase. they seemed to have dropped conversation about your heavy eye bags and low enthusiasm in favor of more lighthearted topics.

just as you were starting to get into it, a knock sounded at your door. at first, you were tempted to ignore it but after a few moments of silence, the knocking started up again, more incessantly. your comments started to go wild, wondering who exactly was banging on your door at like 11p.

bokutos.bahamamommamilkers: tell whoever is @ the door to fuck off

shartyba3_420: damn slam me yn like [redacted] is slamming on that door

Greg_72: Hey, you can go answer that! We’ll wait <3

you apologize quickly before removing your headphones and scurrying over to the door. swinging it wide open, you’re met with bokuto.

and what a sight he is.

once bright, golden eyes were now dull and void, accompanied by dark circles that rivaled your own while his usually sunny visage was dampened by this metaphorical dark cloud that was hanging above him.

in other words, he looked like shit.

the both of you must look like quite a pair — you in your ratty, oversized hoodie and red sweats and him in his white t shirt and flannel pajama pants. after giving him another glance over, you repressed the urge to pull him into your room and into a hug, instead choosing to wrap your arms around yourself tightly.

“um, hey bo,” you started, unable to keep your eyes on his face. “i’m really sorry but i’m streaming right now. maybe we can hang out later?”

bokuto shook his head no, and your heart began to sink. you were just so tired and you didn’t have the energy to entertain or comfort the man at the moment without letting another piece of yourself crumble but you knew you didn’t have the heart to turn him away.

resigning yourself to your fate, you stepped to the side to let him into your room, making a mental note to shield him from your webcam while you brought him to lie on your bed.

to your complete and utter surprise, bokuto did not move, shaking his head no again before moving to grab something just out of your sight behind your doorway.

you were now thoroughly intrigued, shuffling closer to peek into the hallway, only to be stopped by a box being thrusted into your hands. you looked over the colorfully painted cardboard but it gave you no indication as to what was on the inside and glancing at kotarou gave you no help whatsoever.

“what’s this?” you voiced your confusion while weighing the box in your hands, the confusion only amplifying when you discover the box is suspiciously light. you’re shaken from your investigation when bokuto throws another object in your hands, this one significantly heavier.

looking up at him, you’re taken aback by the emotion swirling in his irises, his mouth finally parting to speak. “i’m so sorry,” kotarou’s voice, while gravelly from disuse, was sincere, a slight quiver being found underlying his words. “i- i know i never said it but i just want you to know that i-i care about you and that i am so sorry for ever hurting you and making you feel like you were less than. y-you’ve helped me become myself again a-and i can never thank you enough.”

a shuddering breath left his chest as he trained his eyes on the ceiling before looking back at you with watery eyes. “you don’t have to forgive me. i-i’d understand.” you opened your mouth to respond, to rebut, but you were cut off by his strong arms, wrapping you up in a tight hug.

you couldn’t keep yourself from melting into his hold, a small ounce of stress leaving your body at his words but the bulk of it remaining. he’s just apologizing because you’re the only girl who’s shown him an ounce of kindness, the voice in the back of your head whispered.

as bokuto pulled you in tighter, you stiffened, the voice getting louder and more constant. the man holding you didn’t miss the way you tensed and hesitantly removed himself from you, his hurt written plain all over his face.

kotarou gave you a weak smile and another gentle apology before turning and leaving for his room. you already felt guilt creeping up your spine for not holding him the way you thought you should but you quickly pushed the feeling down, knowing that you wouldn’t have gotten the rest you deserved if you’d done so.

letting out a deep sigh, you shut your door and moved back to continue your stream, not before gently setting down the 2 colorfully decorated boxes on the bed, a small smile creeping across your face at the sight of the gifts.

your stream ended pretty shortly after, your mind unable to focus on the game — it was getting borderline embarrassing how often you were dying to the point you were worried your sponsors would pull out of supporting you.

with a soft smile and goodbye, you collapsed on your bed, mindful not to crush the boxes. while you were extremely exhausted, you knew you wouldn’t be able to go to sleep without examining your gifts’ contents.

you decided to open the heavier box first which yielded bag after bag of your favorite chips, candies, and drinks. you knew your mouth was gaping unattractively but you couldn’t help it. this was... way too much.

at the bottom of the box was a small note, written in bokuto’s somehow endearing chicken scratch. it read, “hi yn!!!! this is for when you get hungry :) i know i didn’t let you eat any of my snacks for a long time so i thought it would be nice if i bought some for you!!!!! i hope i got these all right :( i asked atsumu for help!!!”

a choked chuckle escaped your lips and it only amplified as you continued to the end of the note. “p.s. don’t worry about not finishing it all!!! i can always help you ;) p.p.s. also you’re so pretty!!!! don’t not eat it because you don’t think so too <3”

wiping your eyes that had become suspiciously misty, you set down the slip of paper and reached for the second box.

you couldn’t keep the gasp from coming from you as the cardboard overflowed with tiny slips of paper. with shaky hands, you unfolded the first paper, the tears overflowing over your lashline before you could stop them.

you are loved :) - akaashi

“fuck,” you whispered, swiping at your face before clumsily reaching for another, and then another, each note making you cry harder than the last.

you are beautiful!!!!! never change!! - bokuto!!!

you’re really cool - kenma

you are so kind and i owe you the world - sugawara :)

you’re sympathetic, observant, and intelligent. - sakusa.

you are patient (even when we don’t deserve it) - kuroo

yer my angel <3 - tsum tsum

there were a ton more but you promised yourself you’d read them all later, your emotions getting the better of you. you’d rather not wake up with puffy, swollen eyes and a headache so you decided it would be best to close the box and finish it all later.

laying back on your bed, you expelled a deep breath of air, not realizing just how tense you were. you’d been living on edge with the guys for at least a month now and it was really starting to wear on you.

without being able to fully trust them, you knew it wouldn’t be long until you crumbled under the pressure.

you glanced at your phone before sighing again (it really was that kind of day, wasn’t it). maybe it was about time to give dr yamada a long awaited call.

℗ poker face

you are loved :)

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - ooweee first single apology down, 4 more to go!!! also the box of papers came from everyone (obv) but they still gotta give their individual apologies hehe which shall come in the future <33 sorry this took so long KSJD i hope u enjoy!!! don’t forget to feed me <333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @sazunari • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @amberalisa • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[gamma-squad]

The Ultimate Gamma Squad Fic Rec List

From Angst to Fluff to Reveals, fanfiction will make you cry :D

Adrinette

Double Blind Date -  Alya knows Ladybug and Chat Noir's identities, and now that they're finally in the same city at the same time, she is determined to get them to meet.

The Bravery of Adrien Agreste -  adrien ends up living on the streets for a while, it's extremely well written and has also adrien marrying marinette to emancipate from his father.  There's also a sequel, the Bravery of Marinette Dupain-Cheng, which the author is currently writing. 

Lovelace -  Convinced that he's unlovable, Adrien is quickly thrown for a loop when Marinette confesses her love for him out of the blue. An akumatization and reveal later, he changes his mind about being unlovable.

The Bravery of Marinette Dupain-Cheng -  After the defeat of Hawkmoth, Adrien and Marinette are strangers to each other, but somehow… married? - Sequel to The Bravery of Adrien Agreste

Soulmate Survey -  A brand new dating app hits the scene, giving you a percentage of how well you match with someone else. And it is taking the world, and certain teenagers, by storm.

Cats are Colorblind! - Reverse Crush AU - Ladynoir/Adrinette - Adrien is blind but he can... feel Marinette’s features? Which happen to be the same ones as Ladybugs (Reveal)

have the stars blotted out in a brilliant morse code - Fluffy Adrinette moments and reveal? beautiful

Strength - Crack/Fluff oneshot with a reveal

Marry That Girl -  Adrien finds Marinette’s plans for their wedding and just falls

League of Losers - Slightly Different Superhero AU with crack angst and fluff

You, Me & A Little Bit of the Future - future ladynoir asks adrinette to babysit and everythings cute

Practice Makes Purr-fect - Adrinette/Ladynoir + Reveal and kisses (all you need in life <3)

wish you were here - demon au, adrien is just really confused

The Moving Statue - AKDJSSD - Adrinette + Reveal

Operation Mega-Sleepover - Adrinette Sleepover Shenanigans

Butt Dial - Marinette butt dials Adrien and all his plans for a normal afternoon jumped out the window (Reveal)

The Wedding Plans of Marinette Dupain-Cheng - Adrien finds Marinette’s wedding guest list for their future wedding and he’s like ‘WHERE AM I?’ (boy you’re the groom)

Plagg Meets Marinette

i hope that fate will forgive us (for tempting the sea) - mermaid royalty au and arranged marriages - Felix x Bridgette and Adrinette - also the author is v nice <33

The Player and the Princess - Childhood friends turned enemies turned lovers <3

take me back- By marvelousmsmol

By Design - By marvelousmsmol (Still going!)

Graine de toi - By komorebirei (Still going? I’m not sure)

Smoulder - By midnightstarlightwrites (this is adorable and full of ships! Also, finished 36/36).

Lucky Us - By PrincessKitty1 (Sigh, it’s too cute! Finished 30/30).

Facades -   AU with dark!Adrien. Has even a short sequel (lovesquare but mainly centered around the two main ships)

 Kiss shy - By emsylcatac (This is a great one-shot!)

i don't have a latte but give me a shot - By marvelousmsmol (The one-shot, i wish was a series).

 Under Lock and Key - By EdenDaphne, Maerynn (the antics! Finish 10/10)

The Woman With Blue Eyes - By ghostgirl19 (One-shot!)

 Friends By Day, Enemies By Night - By Dristi5683 (This is 49/49, there’s also marichat and angst ladynoir)

A Bride for the Prince - by ChocoluckChipz (Totally_lucky) and TheNovelArtist

Penumbra - Adrienette hurt comfort, rated M for serious topics like implied noncon as a minor

keep me in your thoughts - adrienette soulmate au

Passionfruit- Adrienette soulmate au series with 3 parts

a chat in disneyland - pretty self explanatory, chat noir antics and slightly traumatized workers, everythings great

Finding Diamonds in the Rough -  A prince escaping the confines of his castle. A girl who saves a naive visitor. The connection built between these two of different worlds. Welcome to another Arabian night.

Out of Your Hair -  Adrien wants to support Kitty Section during their first large concert in the park, but dad says no. So of course there’s only one way this can go

Infatuation - Adrinette childhood enemies to ‘I hate you but i seriously want to kiss you’

Blindsided - Adrinette/Ladynoir - Ladybug gets hit by an akuma and goes blind but hey! Adrien/Chat Noir is literally the most amazing person ever and that helps (Reveal)

Just a Friendly Game Night -  The four teenagers arrange a game night at Marinette’s house. What could go wrong

Just Best Friends -  The sequel to ‘Just a Friendly Game Night’ where the teenagers deal with what went wrong

We’ve Got It Covered -  Marinette needs to create a concept album cover design for Jagged Stone, but when she can’t get anything, the stress builds…

Le Prix du Silence -   this is in French, by Etoile-lead-Sama, but it's so worth google translating! Especially her inverted umbrella scene where Marinette gives the umbrella back to Adrien because she wants to rid her feelings for him and in that moment he realises that he's in love with her…  *heartbreak* but it's all wonderful and her slow burn is exceptional

Shop, Bake, Eat... - Crack, mature humor and content

Having a Ball - Adrien and Marinette attend a Victorian ball without recognizing each other.

In Which Adrien Agreste Butt Dials Ladybug - Based on NY Special, what if Adrien kept the remote to the cat toy in his back pocket?

The Jacket - Marinette gives a black jacket to Adrien and he thinks she's figured him out. 

Stuck In A Bakery (With You) -  during the pandemic, Adrien gets stuck in the bakery with Marinette and family. 

MariChat:

Chat Got Your Back - Lila I don’t like you and neither does Chat

Burgundy and Blush -  Marinette needs a date for the dance, and Chat Noir is happy to help. But can the two teens in denial make it through the night without catching feelings?

The Trouble With Kissing Boys -  When an akuma handcuffs Chat Noir and Marinette together, true feelings are revealed… but only to get the cuffs off. Really

double jeu -  An injured Chat Noir leads to a frantic Marinette and frequent midnight visits neither of them had expected to get used to.

Lace or Leather - Sequel to Burgundy and Blush

Stand-In Journalist - MariChat being besties

spark - marichat dating app shenanigans

Forget-Me-Not  -  Marinette looses her memories a little bit (unfinished)

Jealousy - Onesided reveal and then it turns into a love confession and a reveal

When Duty and Desire Meet - By EdenDaphne, midnightstarlightwrites. (Still going! Its so romantic, the yellow rose hits me the most)

Selfless - By ghostgirl19 ( I wish this fic was still going but it’s not! It’s discontinued!! T~T)

The Cat, the Bell, and the Wardrobe (Malfunction) - ChocoluckChipz (Totally_lucky), Eizabet, KryallaOrchid, Maerynn, midnightstarlightwrites. (I know the embracement... It’s also a one-shot!)

The Wingman Visits - By NiuNiu. (This is completed with 16/16 and rated mature!).

I Won’t Hold You Back - THE BEST PROM FIC YOU’LL EVER READ. Adrien invites Mari to prom. In which Adrien Awkward Awkward Awkward Athanase  Agreste makes an appearance. 

A Gamer’s Pride - No miraculous but they’re video game partners and they hate each other but they like each other and HHHHHHHH

Diamonds never leave you... men do! - Marinette the cop and Chat Noir the criminal (they’re dating <3)

Kiss and Dash -  It starts of when Marinette kisses Adrien on a dare and runs off but it really spirals out of control when Chat Noir takes revenge with his own kiss and dash. Do all people kiss the same way? Adrienette/Marichat/Ladynoir/Ladrien. - I THINK I ASCENDED WHILE READING THE FIRST CHAPTER

No Longer Running From -  After an Akuma attack, Marinette runs off in order to avoid Chat Noir, but she didn’t count on him being so willing to come after her.

Chat Blanc - Chat Blanc fights with reveals and Adrien being a good person even when akumatized

Worries - Chat is very concerned for the well-being of Marinette who he has noticed, decides to run into akuma battles in a very much not safe way

Rooftop Tears and Gentle Hugs [Vent] -  Marinette goes mute for a week, and everybody is worried. It seems only a concerned Chat is the one to finally reach her.

Tendencies - (series) lots of good writing starting out as marichat and then a reveal

Just Chatting -  Chat crashes onto Marinette's balcony and continues to visit. Marinette finds herself impulsively getting closer to him, and then everything goes to shit.

Reves de Noir et Blanc - LISTEN. MARICHAT HURT/COMFORT AFTER A NIGHTMARE MAKES ME FEEL CERTAIN THINGS

Physical Touch - Chat Noir, my amazing child, is touch starved. Marinette is happy to help with some cuddles

It’s Okay to Cry - THE SUMMARY ALONE GOT ME FEELING SOME STUFF LET MARINETTE SHOW EMOTION -  Marinette feels the burden of not letting her negative emotions show, since Ladybug cannot let herself be akumatized, no matter what. A cat is there to let her vent.

heartstrings - HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA - they frggin kiss and its dramatic and teenage drama and romace 

Crushed - Stuck under a collapsed building together, Chat Noir and Marinette have a heart to heart.  (Reveal)

Every Heartbeat: A Marichat May 2021 Story:  -   Reeling from a brutally difficult day, Marinette finds her life becomes amazingly complicated after impulsively inviting Chat Noir to spend the evening with her. But when the suave feline begins to weave his way into her heart, she realizes rather quickly just how conflicted her feelings for her partner truly are.

A Roll of the Dice - AVERT YOUR EYES INNOCENT CHILDREN - mature (obviously) Alya gives Marinette an adult dice set and at night time, Chat Noir dares her to use it. 

tell me something i don’t know - the infamous marichat soulmate au by the beloved carpisuns

Trading (Momentary) Burdens - UM. YOU HAD ON RIGHT?? I AM SAD??- Ladybug gets hurt mid-fight and Chat has to turn into Misterbug to save her

Miraculous Dupont -  Marinette finds herself attacked by Chat Blanc, an akuma at the orders of Hawkmoth. But before the akuma can do any damage, she's saved by Chat Noir, a superhero who is fighting the akumas. Chat Noir senses something in her and takes her to the magical school he attends, Miraculous Dupont, where Master Fu, the head teacher, agrees that she has potential to be a Miraculous holder. So Marinette is thrown into a world of hidden identities, akuma fights and mysteries and ends up by discovering that this whole world wasn't that unknown to her to start with, that the boy behind the mask, of whom she desperately falls in love, wasn't a stranger from her too, and it's all connected to two lucky charms, a seal and a mysterious magical potion she (and her friends) should never have been exposed to...

Tyger, Tyger, Burning Bright -  chat noir gives the tiger miraculous to marinette. I love her concept of the tiger miraculous, so cool!

Terror on La Seine - Villains weren't supposed to help when there are others in need. But can Hawk Moth truly stand aside and do nothing? Especially when a young woman he knows personally is in danger? TW: implied trafficking

Madness Within -  If you want slowburn, feral Chat Noir and dark themes this is a great place to start and I’m super excited for what’s to come. Very highly recommend

you came to me with gold and i mended the pieces -  Adrien gets into a really ugly argument with his father, and as a result the poor boy gets a slap right across the face. In a daze, he runs away from home, transforms, and decides to seek comfort in a really close friend of his.

I’ll Be Your (Wing)Man -  When Chat Noir finds Marinette sighing over her failed love life, he decides to help her get the boy of her dreams. Nothing can go wrong here. Absolutely nothing.

The Tendencies Series -  HIGHLY RECOMMEND and will sure to keep you busy for a while

LadyNoir:

A Summer Treat - LadyNoir Icecream date in Shanghai and lovestruck adrien

TKO - LadyNoir workouts and they KISS

Doctor, Doctor, Give me The News (Your Lips Is The Only Cure I Could Use) -   Plagg’s sick, Adrien’s in love, Shit Happens™ 

 Of Yellows, Pinks and Blues - New York Special LadyNoir but with ROSES 

Long Live - LadyNoir based on the song <3

Letters of Lovers - LadyNoir writing down all their feelings on letters BUT THEN AT THE END THEY READ IT + Reveal

A Bad Dream - Ladybug tells Chat about a ‘dream’ where he was Chat Blanc (spoiler alert: it wasn’t a dream)

The Bug and Cat Show - ADKLJSASD READ THIS

You’re My Sight - Adrien is blind but with the miraculous, he can see and this is very much a wonderful thing to happen to him. One day he tells Ladybug.

United - OMFG - ladynoir established relationship (+Reveal)

a nine-year-old - i havent met anyone that hasn’t read this fic but still (im still sorry emsy, i believed you were 9 with my entire heart 😭)

Death By Ladybug - Flirty Ladybug and Flustered Chat Noir

Chat Noir’s White French Man Hitlist For Feminist Purposes - (THIS HAS A PODFIC NOW)

Liquid Luck - LadyNoir Banter + Reveal

Symphony - Adrinette/LadyNoir + Reveal (with the best ending ever omg)

 The Miraculous Tweets of @luckylady and @chatnoir - Internet Shenanigans

Problems - ladynoir fluff

Only a beat a cat can hear - Ladybug tells Chat when he finds out about her blindness that she scared about him leaving her. He’s having none of this self deprecating stuff and reassures her that he loves her a lot and nothing changes that. 

M’Lady - THEIR LAST DAYS AS SUPERHEROES :’’’’))) (Reveal)

It was just a cheek kiss! - Ladybug slowly falling for Chat and them finally getting together (my friends thought I was getting murdered when I readthis. So many screams)

Discordant Sonata - EdenDaphne (Still going!)

like poles of a magnet - By maketea (8/8! It's finished!)

From the Ashes - By MiniMinou (Finish! Btw this is angst and mature rated)

Ladybug and Chat Noir's Guide to the Rooftops of Paris - PipTheMagnificent (One-shot!)

 in the dead of night, your eyes so green - this ones by miraculouslycool so you know its good 

 Day 7: Interview - Chat Noir being cute with kids

Misunderstanding - LadyNoir Identity Shenanigans <3

Not Kitten Around, Badylug - the road to reveal, integrating parts of S4, all in mobile texts. Sweet, funny. The kind of pick-me up you need after an angsty ep.

Two Seconds -  perfect for a light morning read.

i think it’s time i told you (im a fan of your universe) - LadyNoir (AND THEY GET MARRIED)

It’s Not PDA If You’re Just Friends - They���re just friends! Friends can kiss each others shoulders and spin each other around, right?

I Guess That Makes Us Even - Chat Noir dying = REALLY SAD LADYBUG AND COMFORT - its by buggchat so you already know its simply superior

Red Strings and Markers - Soulmate AU my beloved

little kitty on the rood, wearing his lady’s boxers - Adrien in Ladybug boxers, Marinette in the pool with her pjamas, Adrien uses his one braincell and realizes some pretty shocking things (Reveal)

dont let me die alone - okay so you may get a lil sad but you know

Return to Base - LadyNoir laser tag baby, Adrienette laser tag with LadyNoir dynamic, reveal

The Ladyblog Comment Section - they like to annoy alya in the comments. and flirt. but they dont realize the last part yet

Irreplaceable -  Adrien is insecure. Marinette doesn't let anyone talk bad about her partner.

Where are you Chat Noir? -  As the final battle unfolds to their defeat, Hawkmoth and Mayura use plan b and withdraw in a 'Sentiworld', a parallel reality created with an Amok. What's worse, they drag Chat Noir with them. What's even worse, Ladybug can't say goodbye, or I love you. Guilty and desperate, what will she be ready to sacrifice to get her partner back? (Rated R for mature content)

Kitty Chat Kisses -  Give Chat more kisses please, this was so sweet and cute and sad and just...someone give Chat some hugs and kisses and tell him he did a good job

i’ll marry you - Chat Noir talks to his sleepy girlfriend about their future.

Upon the Eiffel Tower, They Reveal it All. -  Chat Noir spots Ladybug heading towards the Eiffel tower without telling him, and when he checks on her, finds out more than he thought he would.

Two Hundred and Fifty Four -  aspik angst :’)

Ladrien:

bang bang - KISSES

whose woods these are (I think I know) - FIRST OF ALL, its a cinderella au and its MAGNIFICENT - Four years after his future turns to cinders, Adrien is a servant in the house he was meant to inherit. Disowned by his father and abused by his stepmother, his days are filled with drudgery until he meets a masked huntress in the forest behind his father's chateau.As his friendship with Ladybug turns to first love, he dreams of a future spent at her side.Then, on the eve of the Princess's masquerade, he meets his guardian—and is granted a wish.

The Tell-Tale Kiss - Adrien gets discouraged when Ladybug turns down Paris’ favorite cat every time. But what if Paris’ favorite model asks her?

The Cat and His Daffodils -  I adore Hanahaki AU’s and this was one was really good and wonderfully angsty.

Post/One Sided Reveal: 

Serendipitous Fate -  With Hawkmoth growing stronger, Chat Noir and Ladybug need to practice. And get teammates. And grow stronger together. Which means learning each other’s identity, no matter the risks. Unfinished, but worth it. Also, there is some smut near the end, but the author warns the reader on the exact chapter and it is very skippable

switch it up - Adrien uses the Ladybug miraculous and everyone simps even harder

Remember That Time When... - Marinette is ready to enjoy her wedding anniversary with her wondrful husband. Except when she wakes up, she’s not going to be able to celebrate her anniversary. In fact, she’s seventeen again.

Divide By Infinity - Post-Reveal Adrinette being adorable and looking at LadyNoir moments

Bad Day - Adrien finds out Marinette’s Ladybug on the toilet and everything just does downhill from there

Get Agrekt - Post Reveal + Drunk Adrien my beloved

Under The Stars - PROPOSAL

Do You Hear That, Love? - Post-Reveal angst and babies

Side Effects of Paw-esome Merch: Model Chokes on Air - Post Reveal Marinette making my poor boy adrien consciously try not to die by wearing Chat Noir merch

Serotonin Boosts - ADRIEN LOVES HIS GIRLFRIEND OKAY?

When the Wedding Bells Toll - Post Reveal Adrinette pretend to date to get free food at a wedding (ha ha guess who fell in love againnnn)

All You Had to Do Was Stay - first of all, OOF - Marinette and Adrien reveal their identities and he panics and Marinette, three years later, sees him again for Alya’s wedding with the urge to both kiss him and punch him in the face

Adrinette April Day 23: Sunset - CUTE FLUFFY PEOPLE (its by sketchy-panda)

Forget-Me-Not - written way before oblivio but basically, oblivio

The Wall Between Us -  Lukanette, Adrigami, Alya finding out, lovesquare reveal, Adrien finding out Gabe is Hawkmoth, then theres Adrinette being in love and MarcNath walking in them making out. Its a whole vibe. Two Seconds was written in response to this :D

Mari Me - CHRISTMAS PROPOSALS AND CHILDREN ARE BEAUTIFUL OKAY?

Trolling Alya -  After Adrien and Marinette reveal their identities to each other, instead of going right into dating, they agree to just be friends and take their time. Alya is not having it.

The Biological Imperative - excellent explicit story with an interesting concept about tikki being able to freeze the power of all miraculouses in her box in case of marinette's pregnancy. Adrienette of course. 

The Closest Thing to Love - god i love a good fake dating story - post reveal Aged Up - adrien decides that the best way to gain independence from his dad was to get married. To who you ask? Of course its his lady, Marinette Dupain Cheng. Nothing could go wrong! They’re just friends after all.

Not A Ship But Hella good Stories

Papa Bear -  In which Tom is the one to figure out Adrien’s home life is putting him in danger and helps Adrien escape.

Nooroo Uses a Swear Word -  He really, really does. But he has a very good reason, so... let's hear him out, shall we? Crackfic, one-shot.

Move to Safety - Sort of a longer take on the ‘ Adrien runs away and seeks shelter with the Dupain-Chengs’. Involves the final battle and Adrien knowing Gabe is Hawkmoth. 

I Know, Kid - Plagg has a very important conversation with his holder when they return home after defeating Guiltrip.

Chat Noir is My Science Teacher - When Mattheu Magan witnesses his chemistry teacher, Adrien Dupain-Cheng, transform into his favorite superhero Chat Noir, he becomes the Monkey Miraculous holder Monkid, going on adventures and learning what it means to be a hero alongside under his new meow-ntor. (OC, Adventure, Aged-up - Yall ive only known Mattheu for like, a month BUT I LOVE HIM WITH ALL MY HEART)

Won’t Tell a Soul - Nino finds out that Marinette is Ladybug and keeps the secret. Kind of. 

Motherfucking Superheroes - Directly following the events of the season 3 finale, Alya Cesaire decides to create a groupchat with all the known Miraculous holders, which sets off an investigation into Ladybug’s identity. (Crack, Groupchat/Text fic)

My Boy - Gabriel creates a sentimonster copy of himself to free himself from unimportant matters, but he didn’t expect it to become more human than himself. (Angst, Mentions of torture)

The Malicious Pavilin - Evil gay Emilie is a whole ass mood

Never Sing At Home - Based on that ‘hey, bad news and good news. Bad news, Hawkmoth knows my identity, good news, I know his!’ prompt on tumblr

Bite off more than you can chew and you’ll choke - Lila gets exposed fics my beloved

ouef, ouch, owie - Chat and Rena plan some Aspik-related shenanigans to cover up Chat’s secret identity when Ladybug decides to have all the Miraculous heroes train together. (Crack)

What the Cat Dragged In - MCU Crossover

the last day on earth - Chat Blanc angst is top-tier

Air Miraculous - Miraculous but with Basketball and Shoes

how the strings intertwine - MDC Fic - UNFINISHED BUT AMAZING

Nine Lives - Hurt/Comfort, Adrien Centric

In Good Hands -  in which Ladybug tells Chat Noir about her new confidant and Chat chooses his own.

How Nino Waged War with Gabriel Agreste - By ChocolateXMyMouth (Still going!)

The Inappropriate Touching Talk -  this is another pure crack. Gabriel finds out that Adrien "touches inappropriately" Marinette and decides to have "the talk" (or rather have someone else have the talk with him)

Broken - Cop AU with lots of angst :D

Informant - miracuclass group chat au with identity shenanigans 

Lucky Fox Paradox - Marinette gives succeeds in giving Alya the ladybug miraculous. And regrets it. Enter, the fox miraculous.

“I have plan” - based on the ‘Ladybug joins the fight as multimous and she and rena rouge won’t let adrien leave to transform and its just crack’

Sting -  Chat Noir mysteriously vanished, and as much as Ladybug hates it, she can’t do her job alone. Which is why she decides to give Adrien to bee miraculous until her partner returns!

Accidental Dates - The four friends make a group chat to plan game nights. Some people tend to take it further

Leave for Mendeleiev -  Marinette is in Mendeleiev’s class instead of Bustier’s, meaning new friends and different relationships

Ridiculous, Utterly Ridiculous - rejected one time too many, Chat Noir ends in tears on someone's balcony. No, not Marinette's. Chloé's. And no, it doesn't end with an adrikloe (or how it's called). Chloé actually ends up being a good friend (*insert ohhhh of surprise*)

I’ll Handle This - Adrien accepts a deal with Plagg for the black kwami to resolve his problems. And Plagg succeeds. 

let’s get covered in flames and play some games with the smoke -  1920s enemies to lovers soulmates au that makes me want to jump off a building in a good way

Ruffled -  Harry Potter AU

Passionfruit -  Adrienette soulmate au series with 3 parts

Repetition -  One day adrien stumbles upon hawkmoth’s lair. In response, Gabe wipes his memory and is done with it. until it happens again, and again, and again…

Bite Me. -  Vampire!Alya one-shot. Really good world-building in this one chapter alone!

“I have a plan.” -  Really funny one-shot where Marinette’s idea of going in as Multimouse doesn’t exactly pan out how she wanted it to.

Back to Us -  After a reveal so shocking it rocks the core of Paris itself, the villain Hawk Moth is finally defeated...at a great personal cost to heroes Ladybug and Chat Noir. With the city safe, they go their separate ways, returning to the lives they were forced to put on hold since receiving their Miraculous.

Free Falling - Fantastic story with amazing and well written themes that I really just adored reading. Beautifully written and wonderful plot/story

Other Ships (outside of Love Square):

The Worst and Best Thing - GabeNath, drama and angst with a happy ending

Operation Lovebirds -  DJWifi - Alya and Nino try and get Adrien and Marinette together, and get more than they thought they would

Phase Eight - Sequel to Operaton Lovebirds -  Three years after the failure of Operation Lovebirds, Alya and Nino’s relationship is tested when Alya comes across a startling secret.

Cola Date - DJWifi -  When Alya finds herself on a date with the wrong guy she searches for unconventional help to get her out of this. Luckily, the cute waiter doesn't mind to help her out with a favor.

Soundless - Lukadrien - Luka has the Ladybug Miraculous and can pretty much tell who’s Chat Noir

Hotdogs and Icecream - Lukagami - Luka and Kagami hanging out while Adrinette are being in love during the NY Special

[truetgirl]

Third to last one of these. Man it’s uh. Been a month, all of a sudden. Well, hopefully reading this will be as nice a distraction as writing it stands to be. Well, in any case, just a reminder these are in no particular order. I have soemthing for the last one the 29th with a bit more to say than most, but really the only order consideration all month is to start and finish strong lol. But yes, today we have:

Bumbleby!

Once more, if you know me, probably could have seen this one coming. Also, to anyone tempted to tell me “you said canon ships for this series and this isn’t actually canon,” I beg you, please, for the love of god, revisit the lessons of your elementary school reading classes and build up those comprehension skills. Fiction will be so much more interesting, I promise. Also I apologize for how ramble-tastic this gets, I had a very hard time remaining any kind of concise while still getting in the points I want to talk about.

What compels me with these two is something I see get referenced a lot with them, but not as often discussed in its own right, and that’s the theme of forgiveness. What it means to forgive yourself, to forgive a loved one, to deserve forgiveness, to not deserve it, to know how to give it... It’s in every part of their relationship after the volume 3 finale, and I think that’s worth digging into.

So, basic context for anyone not aware of their story. Blake and Yang meet when they arrive at a school where they’re to learn how to kill monsters. In the first couple days there they become partners, then part of the larger unit of team RWBY. Over the course of their school year the girls, of course, get to learning about one another, and it’s revealed that Blake was once part of a civil rights group that drifted into radical and violent action, which she was part of for some time, but recently abandoned when they started crossing too many lines for her. By now, at least locally, they operate more like an organized crime syndicate.

After all of that comes out, Blake tries desperately to figure out what her former comrades are after and how to stop them. In doing this she nearly burns out completely, not letting herself rest or unwind basically at all for several days on end. Yang, ultimately, is the one who snaps her out of it a bit with a speech and a personal story about how even if you don’t want to stop, you have to be willing to slow down so you don’t burn yourself up, consumed by an obsession. Then they dance together at a homecoming party. It’s very sweet and gay.

If you ask me, that’s the first bit of forgiveness playing into their story, right there in volume 2, at pretty much the very first opportunity of their shared characterization being a thing that exists. Yang, very wisely, suggesting that Blake just take it a little easier on herself. Blake holds herself very responsible for actions taken by her old brothers and sister in arms, and it’s eating her alive. One of the first ways we see Yang caring for Blake, in the whole series, is by asking her to ease up on herself and let herself rest for her own sake. Forgiveness of the self, even in such a small form, in there right from the start.

Skip forward to the finale of volume 3 and the fall of Beacon and, well, shit just goes sideways for EVERYBODY at this point. Blake is worried Yang might be “too much like an old partner” after an incident where Yang was tricked into attacking an “unarmed” opponent for what seemed, to everyone but her, to be no reason. Who is this old partner? Well, after many glimpses of him across the series so far, he finally enters the story proper.

Adam. Blake’s old partner from the White Fang, and her abusive ex. Pictured above is him nearly killing Blake, who can hardly even try to fight due to her utter panic upon seeing him, and then vowing to leave her alive long enough that he’ll destroy everything she loves before killing her. Might I remind you, this is in revenge for her leaving him and the White Fang behind. Basically, in the simplest possible terms, he’s vowed to make Blake suffer because she dumped him, and he’s a manipulative, possessive, abusive prick.

And, unfortunately, he starts making good on his threat almost immediately when Yang shows up and rushes in to save Blake,

he sees how afraid Blake is for Yang, says he’ll start with her,

and then he takes Yang’s arm.

After the fall, the member of team RWBY scatter to the four corners of the world. For Blake and Yang (and Weiss too but that’s not what we’re talking about rn) that means going home. It’s not far for Yang, and honestly fair enough because the girl is in fact recovering from the most traumatic injury she’s ever sustained. For Blake, well, it could scarcely be farther. She runs to her parents’ home in Menagerie, which is on the other side of the world.

And I do wanna stress something about that: she ran. Ruby set off on a quest to do good in the world. Weiss was forced to come home by her father. Yang was brought home to recover from her injuries and figure out life as an amputee. Blake is unique in that she just flat out ran away. Weiss remarks to Yang later, in volume 5, that of course Blake ran. She had finally let down her guard and opened up to people again, and the second she did all of her worst nightmares came true.

She blames herself for Yang’s injury, she blames herself for the White Fang’s actions after having played the role she played in making it what it had become. Even Yang, who has been there for Blake all along, resents her. But not for the loss of her arm, or the actions of the white fang. Yang is hurt and angry because Blake left her.

See, that’s Yang’s great anxiety. While Blake worries she ruins everything she touches, Yang is deeply traumatized by the knowledge that her mother just up and left her as a baby, before they’d ever even gotten to know each other, for reasons that seem somewhere between stupid and nonexistent. She lives with the constant fear that she’s not enough, or too much, or whatever will drive people away.

But ultimately, after Blake was apart from her team for nearly a full volume longer than the rest of them spent apart, they do come back together. Her father and Weiss have helped Yang tremendously along the path that leads to her forgiving Blake, but she still has to be the one to do it. Similarly, Sun has helped Blake well along the road to forgiving herself for the things that she did not do, but she has to make the final push herself.

Throughout the first episodes of volume 6, the two of them awkwardly try to find their old dynamic with each other, but it’s not the same and they both know it. It takes a while of Blake being overly helpful and still feeling pangs of guilt, and of Yang just wanting her partner back and seeing her as the whole person she still is, that she doesn’t need to be protected as though she’s fragile and weak. By the late episodes in the volume they’ve started to get that chemistry back. They’ve largely managed to come to terms with themselves and each other, and apart from a comparatively minor (nut no less important) conflict from which they reconcile in volume 8, surely that’s all there is to be said here, right?

Nah, we still got Adam to wrap up. “But how,” I hear you wail, “How is he relevant to a discussion of forgiveness?!” And I answer, very simply: sometimes people do not deerve to be forgiven, and showing that in a context where it contrasts with people forgiving each other and themselves for their mistakes and anxieties? Exquisite.

Adam manipulated and abused Blake for years. He treated her like she belonged to him, like that was only natural, and he used her to do things that would horrify her the moment she stopped to think about them after getting away from him. That Yang forgave Blake for the things she did out of pain and fear is vitally important, in that it drew into greater clarity for her how wrong what Adam had done was. I really believe that volume 3 and earlier Blake, if she’d been confronted with Adam under different circumstances than she eventually was, may have begged him to forgive her, would have forgiven him, because the man is an effective manipulator and his hold on her was still a lot more present.

Even in volume 6, though she never offers him any forgiveness or absolution, she still tries multiple times to let him walk away. Yang, too, is willing to follow Blake’s lead on how to handle the situation after she arrives, despite her personal grudge against Adam. They give him a chance to stop and walk away, but they do not pretend that they can forgive what he’s done to them. “Being the bigger person” and forgiving someone can, in some cases, be good for the one doing it. But other times they don’t deserve it, they’ll never deserve it and their victims have every right to refuse to give it to them. And, in this case, when he keeps coming at them, every justification to do this:

To forgive the people who you love, and who truly love you? To accept each other, mistakes, anxieties, and all? It’s one of the hardest but most rewarding things you can do. And, equally, when you’re wronged time and again, but still feel care for the one doing it? It can be hard to admit that they don’t deserve your forgiveness, that what is best for you is to “take the low road” as it’s so often framed. Blake and Yang embody the power of forgiveness, both in what they give to each other and withhold from the man who hurt each of them, in different ways. They show how they care by taking each other back and their love growing stronger after terrible things hurt them and drove them apart, and that’s some good shit, if you ask me.

[spideysquake]

the infinite playlist - two: y/n makes a choice she’s probably gonna regret

 based on nick and norah’s infinite playlist by david levithan and rachel cohn

summary: y/n takes on a project she doesn’t have the patience for, stiles gets caught in a really awkward turf war of sorts, and lydia has decent taste in guys for someone with terrible taste in guys.

warnings: lots of cursing; fake dating au; lydia and stiles are not together, and lydia is not exactly the nicest all the time; stiles is angsty and chaotic but we love him anyway; y/n is a bitch, but she’s also a bad bitch so we forgive her

word count: 2.5k [give or take]

↳ series masterlist

↳ add yourself to the taglist here

It’s barely 11 o’clock and my hope for my night has already been completely destroyed – Liam is completely shitfaced, my hair is doing that shitty thing where it refuses to hold any sort of style but has no problem retaining every drop of sweat from the entire day, and the last good band of the night just finished their set. And yes, okay, I told Liam I wouldn’t drink tonight so that he could let loose after his really crappy week. But now that I’m here and the club is so loud and nobody seems to have any sort of spatial awareness, all I want is a fucking bikini martini.

I really didn’t think my night could get any more exhausting, and then the intriguingly attractive bassist from tonight’s only decent band asks me to be his fake girlfriend for the next five minutes. I’m tempted to say no, really – I mean, what kind of dumbass would agree to be a stranger’s fake girlfriend in a dark club when they’re supposed to be looking out for their drunk himbo best friend? But then I remember that this particular boy is in a band, and band boys usually come with band vans, and it would be a million times easier to get Liam home in a van than on the subway. So yeah, against my better judgement, I agree to be Bass Boy’s fake girlfriend.

And here’s the thing about Bass Boy – he’s not the worst possible way to spend an evening. He’s got this whole “I’m-definitely-cute-but-I-don’t-quite-know-it” vibe going on; he’s wearing this beat-up gray and red flannel and some dark wash jeans that prove that, while possibly fashionably inept, he’s not as gay as Matt from When I Say Jesus, You Say Christ thinks he is.

The girl he was staring at is beautiful, with shiny red hair and perfectly done makeup and even a stunning brunette Ken-doll type to go along with it all. And, like Bass Boy said, she’s headed directly for us, her boy toy in tow. But it’s not until she’s standing five feet in front of us, a bright and shiny smile plastered across her face that I recognize her. Just as I realize who Punk Princess Barbie is, Bass Boy turns to me with another ridiculous request.

“Please kiss me.”

“Excuse me, what?” I know I signed up to be this poor schmuck’s girlfriend or whatever, but that doesn’t really negate the fact that we just met, and now he’s asking me to tangle tongues with him in public.

“Please, she’s right there. Just kiss me for, like, the quickest second of your life.”

I roll my eyes, but I give in. I interlock my left hand with his right one, and with my other hand I pull his face down to meet mine. His lips are surprisingly soft, and he doesn’t taste like stale cigarettes and beer, which is a definite step up from the last guy I made out with.

We’ve been kissing for about five seconds when I remember something I once saw Liam’s on-again-off-again girlfriend do that he raved about incessantly for a week. I take my fingers and intertwine my nails with the short hairs at the nape of his neck, scratching them against the delicate skin under his buzzed hair for just a moment, just until I feel him shiver against my chest, which is pressed as close to his as I can possibly get it. And trust me when I say that I did not go into this expecting – or wanting – any sort of tongue action, but when he gently slips his tongue past my lips, I find myself having no problem with it whatsoever. I can taste the mint gum that he was probably chewing before the show, and I can tell that he uses chapstick more than most guys, which is, strangely, quite the turn on.

I’ve pretty much lost myself in the taste of his lips against mine when I hear a familiar but grating voice clear her throat from behind me, jarring the both of us enough to pull away from each other. I whip my head around and am faced with the queen bitch herself, clad in this gorgeous leather skirt that I’m drooling over just as much as I’m drooling over the boy in front of me. Lydia has her arms crossed over her fluffy pink sweater, because if anyone was going to turn a dingy club show into an opportunity for a fashion show, it was Lydia Martin. She kind of looks like if a feather boa and the personification of a leather boot had a fashion baby – if I wasn’t so repulsed by the thought of her acting like this was her scene, I might actually be impressed. Behind her stands the reject from American Idiot: The Musical, but she seems way more interested in my evening activities than her particular flavor of the week.

At the sight of her pursed lips and furrowed brow, I feel the need to sink into myself until I no longer exist in the space. But then I remember that this is my scene, and my usual Friday Night Spot, and my music taste that she’s infringing upon, not the other way around. So I intertwine my fingers with Bass Boy’s, and wrap his arm around my waist so that his hand is essentially resting on my stomach. I press myself into him a little bit, and I can’t help the surge of pride when I notice that she hears his breath hitch just as well as I can.

“Um… Hi, Lydia. What are you doing here?” I make sure to keep my voice clipped, so she knows just how excited I’m not.

“Oh, you know, Jordan and I just thought we’d hit the town and see what the LA riff-raff had in store for us tonight. What about you two? How do you, like, know Stiles?”

So Bass Boy’s name is Stiles. And Bass Boy knows Lydia. What a fucking turn of events.

“Oh you know, we just uh –” But before Bass Boy can get another word out, I do this thing I’ve seen Liam’s girls do a hundred times over when they wanna get possessive. I tuck myself under Bass Boy’s arm, wrap my right arm around his back and crawl my left hand up his chest until the tips of my fingers reach his sternum. I’ve just started stroking my thumb back and forth over the middle of his chest when I feel him shudder just a little under my touch.

“Oh, well I’m here because Stiles invited me to come watch his band play. Isn’t that right, baby?”

Stiles lets out a nervous chuckle and scratches at the shaggy hair at the crown of his head, kicking his foot into the ground and trying (admittedly, not very well) to hide the blush that’s taken over his face. But before he can get a word out, Lydia clears her throat harshly and flicks a strand of perfectly red hair over her shoulder. She’s trying not to pout, but I can see it in her eyes – I’ve poked the bear, for sure.

“Well, that’s cool or whatever. Jordan and I are gonna go grab a drink or something, maybe see who’s playing next.” And within ten seconds, she’s gripped onto her poor victim’s wrist and is dragging him towards the other side of the bar. There’s a part of me that feels bad for antagonizing her as bad as I did, but then there’s another part – a much bigger part – that is proud of myself for finally having the upper hand in a conversation with Lydia Fucking Martin.

I only have a moment to myself to bask in the gloriousness of this moment before Bass Boy yanks himself away from my arm and grabs my shoulders, jolting my attention towards him. At first, I think he’s going to lean in and kiss me again, because a victory such as that one deserves a celebration. But instead, he snaps his fingers in front of my face to get my attention, a desperate and somewhat terrified look on his face.

Liam likes to say that I’m the poster child for bitchiness; when he says this, I usually try to play it off like it doesn’t bother me. But now I’m pretty much convinced that my recent display of faux possessiveness has proven my undoubtable bitchiness to my fake boyfriend as he looks at me, dumbfounded. Here’s the thing, it wouldn’t be the first time my less-than-sunshiney attitude has driven away a man, but it would be the first time that a man leaves before I have the opportunity to be a bitch to him directly. But the words out of his mouth are not at all what I was expecting from the situation.

“How the hell do you know Lydia?”

Then the past three minutes come rushing back to me. Lydia called him Stiles. As in Stiles Stilinski, her Beacon Hills Boy. Stiles Stilinski, the boy who made her a mixtape for every one of their anniversaries, who wrote her a song when they graduated, who I may or may not have daydreamed about dating (even though I hadn’t seen his face). Stiles Stilinski, this Stiles Stilinski is the boy that made all of the girls in my freshman dorm envy the shit out of Lydia. We tried to get her to introduce him to us, bring him down for the weekend so we could all meet the boy who put Lloyd Dobler to shame. But of course, Lydia refused – she was hellbent on keeping Stiles as her little secret.

She used to talk about him all the time when Liam and I would go out to lunch with her. Is it a little bit sacrilegious that we’re kinda sorta friends with Lydia Martin? Maybe. But here’s the thing, Lydia can actually be a pretty tolerable person; plus, she has really great study tips that I definitely needed my first semester. We would go out for pizza and she would talk about the sweet but awkward boy from her hometown – the one who was nice enough, but just couldn’t let go of the past. She spent like three months talking about how she regretted going long-distance but she didn’t want to, like, crush his soul or anything. But I guess she got over that because this poor schmuck looks pretty soul-crushed to me.

I’m still trying to find a way to explain all of this to Stiles when I realize that I have absolutely no idea where the fuck Liam is. And that is just not how the night is supposed to go.

Without even really thinking about it, I use Stiles’s shoulder as a boost to stand up on one of the chairs near the bar. I guess I’m hoping that the new vantage point would help me find my best friend, who is definitely shitfaced. I can feel Stiles’s fingers wrapped around my wrist, but I’m way more focused on finding Liam and getting the hell out of this dank ass club than what Stiles is trying to say to me – as bitchy as that may sound.

I can hear the band playing some awful pop punk cover of Your Love is My Drug by Ke$ha when I spot Liam’s mop of messy brown hair across the dance floor. I jump down from the barstool I’m precariously perched on, and I take about three steps in his direction before Stiles’s grip on my wrist boomerangs me back into his personal space.

“Ok, I’m really not kidding right now. How the hell do you know Lydia?”

The lost puppy dog look in his eyes momentarily distracts me from my quest to rescue Liam, and I’m overcome with pity for this poor schmuck who’s obviously hurting. His eyes look devastated but his eyebrows look pissed as fuck, and it’s then when I realize that this boy has become the latest – and probably most heinous – in Lydia’s string of dates she’s dissed and dismissed for no reason other than she found something better. My heart bleeds for this poor angel of the alt-punk scene, and I’m suddenly reminded of this lyrics that Lydia showed me: she said it was the lamest thing any one of her boyfriends had ever given her, but honestly I thought it was so good it deserved to be hung in the MOMA or something – shredded binder paper canvas and all.

I’m starting to think I like The sound of you and this city The bells and the white search lights I think I’m ready now to answer them And in a dream, I hear your hum and noise and it sounds so free

I remember very distinctly complaining to Liam that afternoon about how stupid I thought Lydia was for hating those lyrics – how I would give limb upon organ upon limb to have someone write something that fucking soft for me. My pinky toe? Sure, take it – who needs balance anyway? A piece of my liver? It’s yours, I hate the taste of vodka anyway. My entire left arm? I type faster with my right one, so I won’t even miss it that much.

And now this boy – the boy with the potential for perfection and the impeccable ear for melody – is standing right in front of me, still obsessed with Lydia Martin. I would treat this boy to half off sushi rolls whenever he wanted and help him design the cover of albums that would be way too cool for the masses to understand, but instead, Lydia got to him first. So now this boy with perfection potential is doomed to be permanently obsessed with the girl with the pink pleather platform boots. Fucking typical.

And here’s the thing: I can’t even really blame him, because I was very lightly obsessed with Lydia Martin too, before I realized that she was human like the rest of us (and that she put YUNGBLUD on her pop punk essentials playlist). I mean, of course I was – she’s a redhead who can wear pink and she has no problem wearing six inch stilettos to a club where she’ll probably crush someone’s toes. But I have since released myself from the Cult of Lydia, a feat that Stiles has yet to accomplish, and I just don’t think I can be around that kind of energy tonight – not when Liam is already at his slutty drunk phase of the night.

So I lightly twist my wrist from out of his fingertips, and I reach my hand up to pat his cheek in an admittedly condescending way. I know that at this point, I could just walk away. I could say absolutely nothing and leave him to forget that this interaction, and more importantly that I, ever even happened. But I am nothing if not a chaotic bitch, so as I take a step back, I say one last thing.

I tell him, “It gets better eventually, I promise.” And I sink into the crowd, hopeful that my little nugget of wisdom does the trick.

a/n: happy new years’ eve !! she’s finally here ! chapter two ! thank you guys so much for your patience - i’m finally on a break from school so i’m going to try to write as much as possible. i’m really excited about this chapter, and about everything that’s to come for our faves. oh and also, the song that “stiles” wrote is called CVS by winnetka bowling league, in case anyone was curious. now please, tell me all your thoughts about the chapter here! and add yourself to the taglist here! until next time !!

xoxo, daisy

taglist [if your url is crossed out, i couldn’t tag you for some reason]:  @giftedburnoutkid @m3ssytrash @witchybarb @voiddtrinity @dabisimp @midnightstan @k-k0129​ @musicxlover97 @fan_girl97 @yasmin626 @mischief-mieczyslaw @peachyprism @togethcr @tigolebittiez @rottenstyx @justine-sophie-blog @nicole-stokes @leanneg97 @ritz-hell-hotel​ @the-fandom-queen @bloomingmalfoy

[vinnieswife]

Hyperactive

Vinnie hacker x reader

Warnings: smut,dirty talk,daddy kink,choking kink idk lol

Words: 2178

It's a stormy afternoon, clearly you just wanted to stay in bed, sleep or watch some series on your laptop, clearly those were not Vinnie's plans.

Let's be honest, Vinnie is a hyperactive person, he can't stop still for two seconds, and it's something you love but God, at the time of sex his endurance surprises you, he could give you 4 rounds in a row without stopping, with the same pushing force than the first round.

And there you were trapped in Vinnie's arms begging you for some action.

"Oh lord Vin it's 7 pm,you are unbelievable" you tell him laughing.

"Oh come on please, just one round, please"

"You are a liar, do you think I'm stupid ?, when you say -one round- you literally mean 3 rounds at least"

He suppress a laugh "come on I promise, just one"

“What I get if I accept your deal? Huh? "

"Cuddles and I promise that I will watch My Little Pony with you"

"That's a good deal" you smile.

Then he approached and placed himself on top of you, one hand on one side of your head and the other caressing your neck, then he cut the distance between your lips and his, biting slightly your lower lip, while your lips collided with each other he caressed with his tongue over your lower lip, asking for permission, to which you opened your mouth to allow his tongue to lightly caress yours. Vinnie is a great kisser, his kisses can make a thousand butterflies flutter in your stomach or that a bad day has a happy touch.

"Can I take this off?" He have ask referring to your (his) shirt. His kisses began to go down your jaw leaving small bites and bruises until they reached your neck, he sucked on your soft spot making you moan, and grab his curls, he smiled against your skin while continuing to leave marks on your neck and shoulder.

He bit into the gap where your neck and your shoulder come together to get a loud moan from you. Your skin lit up with every kiss planted on your skin, with every little touch that Vinnie's stomach had met your abdomen when he leaned further down.

His kisses descended further to your collarbone and the top of your breasts. "may l?" No matter how many times Vinnie had seen you naked, he would always ask you a thousand times.You nodded smiling, his hands traveled to your back, undoing the hook of your bra. Vinnie took off the piece of fabric from your body, observing your breasts and leaving a kiss between them.

His mouth traveled to one of your nipples, wrapping his mouth around it,his tongue moving in gentle circular movements around the bundle,while his hand twisted and pinched the other.

Out of nowhere Vinnie gently bit your nipple down making you moan at the sudden movement.He smirk against your skin leaving there a few kisses before keep going down.

He kisses your ribs, your sides and your abdomen stroking your hipbones. His strong (and hot lmao) hands stroke your thighs and slide down your shorts,also he remove your underwear with his teeth.

He start teasing your thighs biting on them lightly,making bruises and stroking them with his hands.Then he plants a kiss on your clit making you gasp at the sudden pleasure,his tongue explores your folds tasting you, you moan and tug on his hair making him groan sending vibrations though your pussy making you squirm. Long, satisfying wet stripes were dragged from your core to your clit, where he would suck and pull with his lips, leaving your legs shaking and toes curled.

Vinnie looked up and made eye contact with you, his dark gaze making you want to tug at his hair and release you for him right there. His eye contact was so seductive and commanding, it made the butterflies in your stomach flutter even more, and even more so when he thrust his tongue into your core, testing you in every way possible. He start to the tease your entrance with his tongue slipping it in and out in an agonizing slowly pace.

“Vinnie please...”you beg

“Please what love? Finish the sentence”he smirks,making eye contact with you,stopping his movements.

“Please I need more Vinnie”

“Oh love,that’s not my name,say it right”

“I’m sorry vi-daddy please”

“That’s better baby”

He kisses you clit,sucking harshly on it making you moan at the roughness,his finger run over your folds easy slipping in your entrance,he start pumping in and out at a fast pace,biting lightly at your clit every often.

“Can you take another one princess?”oh he can be a dick sometimes,and also a fucking dom in bed,but he’s never going to do something without asking if you are comfy with it.

“Yes I can,please”

He ads another’s finger pumping both in a faster pace than the one before,he just loves the sign of you begging under him,asking him for more and of course he’s gonna give it to you,he start massaging your clit with his tongue moving it side to side or just sucking on it.

"You're doing so well baby... I love you so much," he murmured into your folds, his tongue licking all your wetness.

"I love you too but ..." you breathed, unable to finish your sentence. I could hardly pull the words out of your mouth, your vision was starting to blur, white stars were burning in the corners of your eyes. With a few more pumps you come undone on his fingers moaning loudly,your hand flying to Vinnie’s hair tugging on it harshly making him moan,the vibrations giving you more pleasure even when you just come.“Taste sweet as always love, did I make you feel good princess?” He mumbles kissing your bruised thighs.

You nod with your head, not having the force to talk.He start moving upwards kissing your stomach,your ribs,your breasts stoping at your neck giving to them a couple os kisses.You grab his face with both of your hands,pulling him close to kiss him,you two just separate for air when the kiss started getting too passionate.

“Vin please...”

“What do you want love?, cmon tell me” he says looking at your eyes.

“I-I want-t you t-to...”

“Words Y/n stop mumbling things like a slut who doesn’t know what she want”he grabs you by your throat gripping it tightly

“I want you to fuck me hard”

“Beg for it then”oh god,now you know the game have just started.

“Vinn please,make me yours please” you start kissing his neck for a little push.

“Do you want me to fuck you dumb love?”

“Yes please,I will be good I promise”you lol at him with pleading eyes and he kiss you harshly,biting your lower lip making you moan loudly.

You broke away from the kiss for a brief moment, images from the night before flashing through his mind, leaving his mind wandering to think of you right now, or a few seconds in the future. "You under me, like last night." He returned his lips to yours, kissing you fervently, taking your breath away as you moaned into his mouth, giving him the green light that it was okay to move on.

"Moaning." Once again, his words mixed with your lips. His phrase sent chills down your spine.

"Screaming my name."

More butterflies churned in your stomach. He knew exactly how to get you where he wanted.

"Your hands ... Grabbing my hair, running them down my back."

His soft lips parted from your lips with a gasp, where he began to descend, moving from your chin to your neck, kissing the bruises left the night before.

"You ... You squirm with impatience while I would bother you."

His voice was warm, but soft and husky, and still dark in the evening . He invited you, asked you to indulge yourself more deeply and lose yourself in his touch, in his tempting mantle of entertainment.The front door of the house rattled shut, indicating that you and Vinnie were left alone "I guess that's my signal," he chuckled, pressing his lips against yours once more, kissing you feverishly."Your signal was when I kept begging you," you reminded him in the kiss, their words intertwined as he laced his lips with hers.

A playful smile appeared on his face, your lips pressed against his teeth as he gets closer to you, his chest now pressed against yours. "So needy, right?"

He wakes up to take off his sweatpants and his underwear, when he get completely naked you keep looking.

"Mmm-hmm," you confirmed, running your fingers through his hair, grabbing him so he could rush up and insert himself inside you.

“Vin please”

Vinnie's hungry kiss sped up when he finally heard your pleas. He lined up with you, his tip brushing against your folds sending an impatient impact through your torso until finally, he thrust into you, a loud moan came out of him and you moaned loudly into the kiss.

Slowly, Vinnie's pace began to pick up, filling you completely now each time, your back arched off the mattress. The kiss became hungrier and more necessary, Vinnie nibbled your bottom lip very gently as he grew hungrier for the connection that would fill the void between space and time, that would fill his void for more of you. . Another thought crossed his mind as he took your hands, placing them above your head, intertwining your fingers with his.He gently moved inside you, watching your face intently as he writhed in pleasure, he moved closer to your face and whispered into your lips.

"Open your eyes and look at me." He said softly, but you understood the order. You opened your eyes and found his eyes immediately, watching you intently as he rolled his hips towards you gently, slowly picking up his pace.

"That's princess. Are you okay?" He said kissing your neck, his hand reaching up and grabbing your chest, caressing it in his hand.

"Vin harder,please." You moan and, to his surprise, you met his every thrust, your hips brushing against his. He kissed you generously for your answer, and did what you asked by moving his hips faster, earning a moan from you; Your nails dug into his back harder. His slow, gentle impulses soon became fervent and needy, every time you let out a groan, he quickened the pace chasing your release, desperately wanting to see you wake up beneath him.

"Vin." You moaned: "I'm so close."

"Let it go, doll." He said taking his thumb towards your clit adding additional stimulation, you had to bite your lip to avoid screaming.

"Come for me precious, let me feel you come". You loved listening to his dirty talk while I pound into you, reaching your orgasm at an alarming rate.Vinnie covered your mouth with his hand, muffling your cry of pleasure but not by much. Vinnie's own orgasm followed immediately after yours when he held his hand over your mouth, desperately trying to muffle his own sounds of pleasure by biting his lip and he spilled himself deep inside you, his trusts coming to a stop,

Then he got hold of you and let you rest on him. Vinnie kissed the top of your head as both breaths slowly returned to normal.

"How are you doll?" He asked in his deep, husky voice for a deep love affair.

"In good right now but I'm completely sure that I'm not going to feel my legs tomorrow" You whispered against his chest, lavishing his chest with soft kisses. Vinnie leaned his head against the pillows enjoying your kisses immensely and knew for a fact that he was chaining you to this bed and keeping you here forever.

"Good night Y/n"

“Good night Vin”

[carriagelamp]

Spent a lot of time reading outside in the sun this month, which is, of course, the ultimate bliss of summer. Under the tree, by the lake, while camping, next to the creek...

Blacksad

Blacksad is a crime noir story following the titular private investigator in the 1950s, though with anthropomorphized animals rather than humans. Like an adult version of Zootopia. I picked up this omnibus of the first three volumes because I was in the middle of playing the PS4 game and quite enjoying the world it laid out, though I ended up having mixed feelings about the series as a whole. It explores some complicated issues of American society during the 1950s, like racism, fascism, and nuclear armament, and since the creators are both Spanish rather than American themselves I liked the sort of outside perspective. It laid things bare in a way that you don’t always get from other works. 

That being said, some of the issues definitely hit weird, the stories often felt like they were trying to tackle more than they had space to actually tell, and the way they portray women is just absolute shit. It’s one of those “the men definitely Are Animals and the women Have A Lil Nose And Maybe Some Non-Descript Animals Ears”. It made the sex scenes VERY uncomfortable, to have a Definite Animal and a Definite Human. 

Still, the art itself is almost able to redeem all other faults.

Demon Slayer 5,6

I continue along with this series, which follows Tanjiro as he travels with his demon-turned sister, trying to find a cure and develop his skills as a demon slayer, to get revenge on the monsters that killed their family. I still like the premise, there’s something very pure about it, like a platonic ideal of shonen, and Tanjiro is a delight. These last two books though I found a bit more lackluster. Also we have entered Character Have Just The Weirdest Design that a lot of shonen seem to hit sooner or later.

Dennis the Menace: To The Core

Stumbled across this while cleaning and had to stop everything to read it. One of those cute classics you just can’t go wrong with. It's simple but always cute.

Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation 2

This series owns my soul. I am currently reading the third and trying to make it last because I will be going insane while I wait for the fourth book which doesn’t come out til WINTER. Wei Wuxian and Lan Wanji are complete fucking morons and I love them with my entire heart. This book was a little rough for deep, long sections of backstory that followed other characters. While I did technically enjoy those sections and I liked the characters in them, they often ended up feeling VERY long. I would have liked for them to have been a bit more interspersed with the actual protagonists. Still, I’m loving the lore and the world and the politics… ending of book 2 had me absolutely losing my shit.

and listen, adult novels that still give you full page illustrations? I'm a simple person and I love this.

Grease

Okay, so I am a sucker for a well done novelization. This is not that. I have never seen an author fail to understand their assignment so badly. This person has framed the story so that SONNY, a random T-Bird, is the narrator. You know, everyone’s favourite character. This also means it EXCLUSIVELY shows the POV of the T-Birds, and absolutely nothing about the Pink Ladies or Sandy except for when they intercept the T-Birds, and layered through Sonny’s sexist narrative. It honestly sucks so incredibly much. I did not finish this and was tempted to toss it in the river.

Haikyu 42-45

I! HAVE! FINISHED! THE! SERIES! Man, I can’t think of many manga that made me read for fourty fucking volumes but Haikyu managed it. Absolutely phenomenal sports manga, the way this author was able to follow so many different characters and make you really care about their development and struggles… absolutely masterful. And not just the main character, not just the main team, this manga-ka did a really fantastic job of placing you into the POV of other teams and I think that went a long way for keeping the series feeling fresh and exciting. And every time a character you cared about got better it felt like such a success! Admittedly, the last few volumes, which showed the post-high school lives of the characters, were not my favourite ending ever. Having the characters fail to win the Spring Tournament, as cliche as that may have been, took a lot of the wind from my sails and I never really got it back. The final match in the last book was enjoyable, seeing how Hinata has grown into a truly superb player was epic, and I love the peek at the Olympics, but it didn’t have the magic that the rest of the series had for me.

Love Stage

Disappointing. I’ve read a lot of other books by this author and have always really enjoyed them. I usually don’t by yaoi sight-unseen these days because I don’t trust like that, but I decided to give it a go because this author has never steered me wrong. This one, unfortunately did. It had funny moments, but the squickiness completely overpowered everything else. Would not recommend, unless you really enjoyed a very specific, standard yaoi format that was common in like… the mid-naughts.

Neon Sign Amber

Now this one was good. I had to read it in French because it never got an English translation, but it was worth the weirdness of having a French-English dictionary next to me while I read smut. It was a charming single book story with really nice art. If anything, I wouldn’t have minded another book just because the ending felt a bit rushed — one character has a lot of baggage about people knowing he’s gay, and the other is only just coming to terms with his sexuality, so seeing how these two adults navigate an actual relationship would have been very interesting. Are they open about it? What sort of road bumps do they have to sort out together? I dunno, I had more questions, but what it gave me was still very nice.

Toilet-Bound Hanako-kun 1,2

…Okay, I’ll be honest, I read the name, made some VERY specific assumptions, and pointedly avoided this manga. My cousin decided to actually read the back though and that’s how I found out my assumptions were wrong and it’s actually pretty cute. It’s about a “Hanako-san” ghost… which is normally a girl ghost, though not in this case. He helps keeps the other mysteries of the school in check, and ends up getting a human girl wrapped up in the local supernatural activity. It feels like a slightly more childish xxxHolic which isn’t an itch I ever expected to have scratched by another series, so that’s exciting.

What Did You Eat Yesterday 1

Just a cute domestic romance that’s all framed around the meals one of the main characters cooks. It has middle aged characters, which is a nice change from a lot of romances/yaoi, with more adult dilemmas to work through. And each chapter dedicates several loving pages to walking you through exactly what’s being cooked, to the point where I’m pretty sure you could cook along with the main character if you wanted. It was lovely.

[iratesherlock]

* ENOLA HOLMES / ENGLISH / 2H 3M / 2020

— Henry Cavill as Sherlock Holmes and John Watson does not appear. — Millie Bobby Brown as Enola Holmes, Helena Bonham Carter as Eudoria Holmes, Sam Claflin as Mycroft Holmes, and Louis Partridge as Tewkesbury. — Directed by Harry Bradbeer and distributed by Netflix. — Favorite Quality: I loved Enola more than I was expecting to, Millie did a fantastic job in this role.

I will begin by admitting that I may be slightly biased in my review, as I don’t like Henry Cavill. I will not be overly negative concerning his portrayal of Sherlock (as he did an okay job), but I wanted to say it to be as honest as possible. Watching this is the third time I have attempted to get through this movie, and the only time I have ever completed it; however, I am disappointed in myself for never getting through the first half of this movie before now. The fourth wall breaking is something I do not usually enjoy, nor quirky main characters, but I absolutely loved Enola; she was so entertaining. I had a hard time watching this movie whenever Mycroft “women don’t deserve rights” Holmes and Sherlock were on screen, but whenever they disappeared, I was having the time of my life watching Enola traverse London. It did fall into the modern demand for action, which took away from the mystery; however, it did actually feel like Enola was using her intelligence to figure things out instead of fumbling into every answer without doing any work. As a lesbian, I am not overly fond of awkward teenage relationships with heterosexual couples, but God, her relationship with Tewkesbury was cute. I think I enjoyed it more than usual because they did not officially end up together, which bugs me in almost all television series and movies I watch. I liked watching them develop feelings for each other but not immediately fall into “die-for-you” love. It might also be a small note, but I appreciate the acknowledgment of choice (and force) in corsetry instead of just being demonized; it was a nice nod toward the history and discussion behind the practice. This movie was aesthetically gorgeous and fulfilled my constant demands for a film set in Victorian England that isn’t just so dark you can’t see anything. The colors were rich throughout and only suffered through the end sequence, which made sense for what was happening. The plot was interesting, and I liked how they changed tracks (in terms of the main focus) early but still managed to make everything come together satisfyingly. I will be honest and say I just could not stand Sherlock or Mycroft; I thought they were both awful and just didn’t fit the characterizations (well, maybe Mycroft did), and I often got so mad when they were on screen I was tempted to fast forward through their parts. I don’t know if we were supposed to come to love Sherlock, but I just felt he was continuously awful and did very little to aid Enola throughout the movie. Mycroft, I just wanted to push him into a puddle and beat him with a blunt object. I think I was supposed to feel that way about him, so I’m not upset; I just felt like I shouldn’t have hated Sherlock as much as I did. That was just a high-class British man with an ego and nothing underneath; at the end of the movie, I still wasn’t sure if he even cared about Enola as much as they wanted me to believe he did. The acting was not bad; I just think I did not enjoy how he was portrayed. Despite those complaints, I thoroughly enjoyed this movie and started the sequel immediately after finishing it because I wanted to watch more of Enola. As a Sherlock adaptation, I don’t think it holds up as Sherlock Holmes was unbearable, but as an adjacent media, it was one of my favorites. I haven’t cried because I felt as helpless as the characters in so long, Enola’s experiences made me so emotional throughout that I just loved her. Finally, I am proud to announce I will now be the Holmes’ stepmother because I will marry their mother if it’s the last thing I ever do. The women in this movie were all fantastic; I loved them all.

[cherienymphe]

Protect & Serve (Steve Rogers x Reader)

WARNINGS: Cop!Steve, mentions of abuse, mentions of miscarriage, eventual STALKING/KIDNAPPING/NON-CON

IF ANY OF THIS OFFENDS YOU, PLEASE DNI

Also this series will be based off of one of my worst fears, so you guys have fun with this.

➥ {page breaks done by @whimsicalrogers​}

summary:  escaping an ugly past, you have no choice but to return home. While much has remained the same, Officer Rogers is a new addition who has won over the hearts of the town in your absence. And no one believes you when you start to see him for who he really is

~

You threw the last of your empty boxes into the garbage in front of your house. Your back ached, and your legs were screaming for a reprieve, but you’d been determined to finish unpacking by the end of the day. And so you had.

The cicadas were loud in the nearby trees, the dark sky decorated with stars. Though you were back down south, you’d forgotten how cool the nights could get. You tightened your sweater around you as you looked along the street. In the years past, so much had changed…but a lot had remained the same.

With a sigh, you turned to make your way back into the house. You’d been running like a train nonstop for the past 3 days, determined to completely unpack and get settled long before school started back. You wanted one less thing to worry about.

You placed your back against the door as you closed it, taking a calming breath and locking it. You closed your eyes, reminding yourself that you were safe. Your ex-husband was far away and none the wiser to your location. You had nothing to be afraid of. You chanted this to yourself until you were able to finally move away from the door.

Your modest house was so quiet, and you welcomed the silence as you made your way upstairs. The atmosphere was so peaceful, and for the first time in a long time, you could hear your own thoughts. Living with Aldrich for so long, you’d forgotten what that had felt like.

He was regularly criticizing anything he could think of, his biting words packaged in a smile that was a tad too wide. Kissing you a tad too harsh and grabbing you a tad too tight. You honestly didn’t know how you’d put up with it for so long. You were disappointed with yourself, but even more disappointed that it took a miscarriage for you to finally leave him.

It should never have come to that.

You settled into bed, somewhat uncomfortable, but only in a way that was unfamiliar to you. You were alone and safe and at peace for the first time in years. Determined to have a good night’s sleep, you pushed painful thoughts out of your mind, and vowed to make your regrets fuel your new future.

The grocer handed your bags to you with a shy smile on his face, cheeks flushing when your fingers brushed over his.

“Thanks,” you told him.

“Have a good day,” he recited, something he probably said a hundred times a day.

You left with a quiet ‘you too’ thrown over your shoulder before making your way outside. The town was filled with both familiar and unfamiliar faces alike. Sure, you’d been gone for almost 10 years, but you hadn’t expected your small town to have expanded this much in a million years.

You noticed a scratch on the side of your car when you neared it, and you took a closer look. With a huff, you looked around, but no one was parked near you and no shopping carts were close by either. Convincing yourself that it wasn’t that big of a deal, you settled into your car and placed your groceries in the passenger seat.

As you drove down the familiar street, you chuckled to yourself, recalling how you vowed to never return here. The universe had a twisted sense of humor that way because here you were, almost 10 years later, seeking sanctuary in the one place you hated most. Perhaps, in a way, this was your life lesson.

You’d been so desperate to get out of this backwards small town that you’d run off with the first man to give you the chance. How foolish you were then to think you were in love. You were just barely an adult, could hardly even be called one. Aldrich Killian was older and gorgeous and most importantly, he’d been going places.

A chance of luck, or perhaps misfortune, had placed him in your nowhere town, and you’d fallen head over heels immediately. He took to you just the same, and there was no hesitation whatsoever to run off with him to the big city. You left everything and everyone behind without a backwards glance.

He hid his true nature well. So well that it took you an entire two years into the relationship to learn about the other women. Having traveled all the way to New York on his coattails, you’d been distraught…and hurt. You may have been silly then, but not that silly.

He came home the next day to find you gone. His money made it easy for him to track you down at a friend’s place though, and the romantic in you was swayed by the sight of the powerful man on his knees, begging for your forgiveness. Surprisingly, he was true to his word, and from then on out, you were the only one.

But your relief was short-lived. You soon came to find out that these other women had something in common with the way he treated them, and with them out of the picture, you soon had that very same thing in common too.

It started out small. A raised voice here, a harsh grip there, but then he’d slapped you. Real hard too. It had left your ears ringing, and you’d been so shocked, that you didn’t see the next one coming. It became a regular occurrence, but it was always followed up by gifts and apologetic words. He’d be good for a few days, and it became easy to believe things would change. But like clockwork, the cycle repeated.

You hadn’t even known that you were pregnant when he shoved you down the stairs. You could only blink in shock when the doctor told you that you’d suffered a miscarriage. That was one of the first things you heard when you woke up inside of the hospital, and the sudden loss of something you didn’t even know you had was heartbreaking.

So when they asked for the truth, suspicion already in their eyes as they looked at the fading bruises and the fresh ones, you gave it to them without hesitation. Proving it was easy enough, and the divorce papers had been drawn up in no time, but Aldrich had money. A lot of it too.

He didn’t even do some measly community service.

You scoffed in the quiet car, hands tightening on the wheel. All of that was over now. You were back home and far away from him. Things would be different now. They had to be…

You frowned when your car started to sputter, confusion filling you as your eyes widened. You looked at the dash, and your confusion grew as you realized you were completely out of gas. A disbelieving scoff left you as you had no choice but to turn your car off. You sat back in your seat with a sigh, blinking as you realized that you had no one to call.

All of your family was gone, and all of your former friends had long left. The ones that hadn’t, the bridge had been burned long ago. Grabbing yours keys and your purse and the few grocery bags you had, you decided you’d have to walk home. It wasn’t too far of a walk. In New York, it’d be considered nothing.

It was late in the evening though, and you were sure it was going to be dark before you reached your house. You didn’t feel comfortable just leaving your car on the side of the road, but you didn’t exactly have a choice. This stretch of road was lengthy, and the thought of being out here at night made you nervous.

You squinted when red and blue reflected off of the pavement from over your shoulder. You looked over just as a police cruiser pulled up beside you. Your heart skipped a beat when the person inside turned it off and proceeded to exit the car. He curved around the front of the car, and you blinked at the full sight of him.

His blond hair was neatly pushed away from his face, and you sharply inhaled at his handsome features. He was tall, and his blue eyes were focused entirely on you as he approached you. His smile was kind, inviting even, and you were tempted to return it, but something prevented you from doing so. He reminded you of your ex-husband, and you warily eyed the way his uniform hugged him, plastered to the bands of muscle that were his arms.

“Evening, ma’am,” he greeted.

“Good evening,” you murmured.

“Was that your car I passed not too long ago?”

You looked in the direction of where you left your car before nodding.

“I…ran out of gas. Which is odd because I was sure I had over half a tank when I left home,” you told him.

He chuckled, and you frowned at him. Catching sight of your glower, he shook his head, taking a step towards you.

“I’m not laughing at you, I promise. It just seems that the punks in this town got another victim.”

He pointed in the direction of your car.

“You got yourself an older model, one that doesn’t require the gas cap to be opened from the inside. They like to steal gas from whoever they can,” he explained.

With a scoff, you realized they were still pulling that mess the teens did before you left. How silly of you to think the kids here would move onto bigger and better things. The blond before you spoke before you had the chance to.

“You live far?”

You squinted up at him, hesitating before eventually shaking your head.

“Not really…no.”

You watched as he walked to the passenger side, opening the door as he faced you.

“Let me drive you home,” he offered.

Your face pinched, wondering how to refuse. You didn’t get in the car with strangers, no matter their profession. You started to shake your head.

“It’s not that far. I can walk-.”

“It’s going to get dark soon, and you need to get those groceries in the fridge.”

He wasn’t wrong, but still, you hesitated. He threw you a crooked smile, leaning his arm on the open door now.

“I won’t be able to rest if I don’t know you made it home, so if you don’t get in, I’ll just have to ride alongside you,” he teased.

Although, you got the feeling that he was entirely serious. Reluctantly, you walked towards the cruiser.

“Okay.”

He closed the door for you as you made yourself comfortable, clicking your seatbelt into place.

“Are you really that responsible or is it just because you’re in the car with me?” he wondered with a chuckle as he sat beside you.

“Just that responsible,” you murmured as he started the car.

You gave him directions to your house, and he followed them with a hum.

“You’re new,” he suddenly said.

It was a statement, not a question, and you frowned.

“Hardly,” you said, shaking your head.

“Huh. I’ve never seen you around…”

You squirmed in your seat at his questions, and you fought with yourself. You told yourself that you were just so skittish after your ex-husband, and you told yourself to calm down. This man wasn’t him.

“I only recently moved back,” you eventually replied.

“How long you been gone?”

He took a left, and you blew out a breath.

“Almost…10 years?”

He let out a low whistle, tapping his finger on the wheel.

“No wonder. I moved to town about 6 years ago. 10 years is an awfully long time,” he noted. “What made you come back?”

“Divorce.”

He didn’t respond right away, and you could feel him eyeing you.

“I’m sorry,” he quietly said.

“Don’t be,” you honestly replied.

You pointed at your house, and he pulled into the yard. You tried not to be so obvious as you hurried to get out of his car. You were halted by a hand on your arm, and you looked over at him.

“Don’t worry about your car. I’ll get some gas in it and make sure it arrives here safe and sound,” he said with a smile.

“Oh, you don’t have to-.”

“Don’t worry about it. Consider as part of my job description.”

You nodded, finally throwing him a small smile.

“Thank you…” you eyed his badge. “Officer Rogers.”

He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Please…call me Steve.”

You simply replied with a strained smile before exiting the car. He watched you as you made your way to your door, and when you finally got it open, you waved him goodbye. He returned it, but he didn’t drive off. Not even when you closed and locked the door.

Through the window, you watched him sit there for a while, longer than you deemed necessary. Eventually, he pulled out of your yard, and you turned to put your groceries away with a frown.

“Y/N Y/L/N… I haven’t seen you in ages…”

You glanced up at the familiar voice, and your eyes widened as they connected with familiar blue ones. You blinked.

“Wanda,” you greeted in surprise. “…hi.”

She placed her hand on the chair across from you, grinning as her reddish-brown hair spilled around her shoulders.

“So you’re back,” she said.

“So I am,” you nodded. “You look great!”

“You’re one to talk. When you skipped town, you were this confused little girl who didn’t know who she was trying to be. Now you come back here and you’re like something out of every miserable husband’s wet dream,” she teased.

You scoffed at that, shaking your head.

“Hardly…”

“Still as blind as ever, I see. Are you back in the old house?” she wondered.

You shook your head.

“No. I considered it, but… It’s too painful,” you told her.

She solemnly nodded, and you perked up.

“So…do you work here?” you wondered, glancing around the impressive diner.

She smirked.

“Sort of. It’s actually kind of mine now…”

Your lips parted, and a genuine smile fell over them.

“You bought it,” you said, in awe.

“I did,” she breathed, glancing around. “I always said I would…but part of me didn’t think I’d ever do it.”

“…but you did! And it looks amazing! You actually turned this place into something worth coming to,” you complimented her.

She hummed, taking the seat in front of you as she looked around with a wistful sigh.

“This could’ve been ours, you know…”

She looked at you, and you glanced away.

“Yeah, well… I was too busy chasing dick,” you replied, and she laughed.

“You were young and in love! If I’d had an Aldrich Killian offering to whisk me away from here, I’d have done the same too.”

“…and I would have locked you away to prevent you from ruining your life,” you threw back.

Her smile fell, and her eyes dimmed a tad as she studied you.

“Trouble in paradise?”

“There is no paradise. I’m not sure there ever was…”

There was a brief awkward silence, and she suddenly sighed.

“Was he the reason you didn’t come for the funerals?”

You didn’t reply, but there was no need to. She shook her head.

“I knew you wouldn’t just…not come. Everybody else was so convinced, but not me. I knew there had to be a good reason… Where did he drag you to anyway?”

You leaned back in your chair with a wistful smile.

“New York.”

“Was it at least fun?”

You mulled over her question before you shook your head.

“No. Aldrich…liked women,” you said with a shrug.

Wanda’s face fell at that.

“…and…when he gave those women up so I would stay, I found out that…he liked hitting women even more,” you quietly continued.

“Y/N,” she whispered, reaching across the table to take your hand.

“I’m past it…mostly. Some of us just have to learn our life lessons the hard way,” you told her with a shrug.

“Don’t say that. You loved him! That’s hardly worthy of a punishment. Sometimes, people are just shitty, and it has nothing to do with us.”

The bell over the door rang from behind you, and Wanda loudly welcomed them without even glancing up. Several voices filled the establishment, and you noted that they traveled and congregated to a table in the back corner, behind you. You heard footsteps approaching, and Wanda finally glanced up. You watched as she grinned at the newcomer.

“Steve!”

You followed her gaze, and sure enough, it was the officer from the other day. You didn’t know if he was on break or getting off of a shift, but he was still in uniform. His hands were on his hips as he looked between you two, a slow smile moving along his pink lips.

“Wanda…ma’am,” he greeted.

Wanda gestured to you.

“This is my friend-.”

“We’ve actually already met, but I never did get the pleasure of learning your name…”

You cleared your throat, feeling put on the spot as Wanda looked at you.

“Y/N,” you told him.

His smile slowly widened, and he ran his eyes over your face, drinking you in.

“Y/N,” he greeted again. “It’s nice to put a name to the face.”

You simply replied with a tense smile as you laid your arms on the table.

“Wanda, me and the rest of the crew are going to have the usual,” he told her.

“Of course! I’ll get Gwen to get right on it.”

He smiled at her.

“Thanks.”

He looked to you, blue eyes connecting with yours.

“Y/N,” he acknowledged with a nod just before leaving.

“You’re in town for five minutes and already have an admirer,” she slyly said once he was out of earshot.

“No, I’m in town for five minutes, and you’re already trying to set me up,” you corrected.

She waved you off.

“I’m just saying…he’s nice. I��m not telling you to marry the guy, but he’s a good man. As squeaky clean as they come,” she told you.

“So you’re saying that’s what I need?” you sarcastically wondered.

“I’m not saying you need anything. I just think it’d be nice for you…and he clearly likes you. Leave it to you to be back for five minutes and catch the eye of the most sought-after man in town,” she breathed. “Every woman within a 75-mile radius has been trying to bag Steve Rogers ever since he breezed into the city limits 6 years ago.”

“Well then you take him.”

“I would, but I’m happily taken. Besides, he seems to have his eye on someone else. How did you meet him anyway?”

You happily told her of your embarrassing encounter with the man that was sitting not even 5 tables away.

You watched as the tow truck pulled your car just beside the curb in front of your house. Officer Rogers and his cruiser were parked on the other side of the driveway, and the blond man leaned against the vehicle as he supervised the process. Only a few minutes later, and your car was back, and the truck was driving off as Steve waved them off.

You hugged your sweater to you as you approached him. He met you halfway, and you sent him an appreciative smile.

“Thank you,” you breathed. “You honestly didn’t have to do that. I could’ve easily put some gas in it and drove it home.”

“…but you would’ve had to walk to the gas station to fill a gas jug, and then walk to your car,” he said, shaking his head. “It was nothing, really.”

“Either way, I still feel bad. I was more than capable…”

He chuckled.

“So how do you know Wanda? You girls go way back or something?”

“Yeah,” you said with a nod. “We were two troublemakers.”

He found that funny, maybe because Wanda was so different now. He rubbed the side of his neck, and his face slowly began to fall.

“When you told me your name, I thought it sounded familiar, you know. You’re Y/N Y/L/N…aren’t you?”

Your own visage grew solemn, and you slowly nodded.

“I’m sorry about your family. I know it happened years ago, but… I wanted to offer my condolences all the same,” he whispered.

You took a deep breath, chest clenching.

“Thank you. I really appreciate that…and for my car,” you added, trying to lighten the mood. “You really didn’t have to do that…nor drive me home that night.”

The corner of his lips quirked upwards ever so slightly, and his blue eyes sparkled.

“Well…if you’re feeling that bad about it…treat me to dinner,” he offered.

You blinked, taken off guard by his bold proposal, and your lips parted as words failed you. He ran his eyes over you as he waited for your response. You thought about Wanda’s words. She assured you that he was a good guy, and to be honest, you wanted a good guy…but not yet.

Your divorce had only been finalized a few months ago, and you really needed time to yourself. You were barely an adult when you ran off with Aldrich, and you’d spent the last decade with him. You wanted to know who you were when you weren’t with him. You owed yourself that.

“I uh…I’m flattered, really, but… I’m not really interested in anything like that for the time being,” you honestly replied.

His eyes dimmed just a bit, but the smile never wavered. You felt bad.

“I’m really sorry. Besides, it just…doesn’t seem appropriate for some reason.”

Steve sharply inhaled and nodded.

“I understand. Have a good night,” he said before taking a step back and turning to go to his car.

You sighed as you watched him go, but you knew that it was for the best. You made your way inside of your quiet house, hoping for a good night of sleep, but sleep did not easily find you.

Too many things were on your mind.

Seeing Wanda brought back so many memories that you would honestly rather forget. She reminded you of a time you spent sneaking out to meet her, idly dreaming of things you halfway hoped to accomplish. An already rocky relationship with your family that only crumbled when you took off.

You thought about how you didn’t talk to them for years, too busy following Aldrich around like a lost dog. You’d thought you had more time. You had put off what you knew you needed to do again and again. You thought the chance would always be there…until it wasn’t.

In a single night, your entire family had been ripped away from you. A car accident. Something so simple. Aldrich hadn’t even let you go to the funeral. By then, he’d grown possessive, and it wasn’t long after that he started putting his hands on you. Part of you thought he’d waited until you had no one to run to.

You sat up in bed when you heard a noise on the side of your house. You were upstairs, and the fact that it was loud enough to reach your ears worried you. Slowly, and quietly, you left your bed, creeping towards the window.

At first, you didn’t see anything and thought that you’d imagined it. However, what you thought was a part of the general darkness, moved. Your eyes widened, and you reached for your phone, immediately dialing 911.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

You stumbled over your address, the numbers and street name still new to you, but you shakily told her about the strange man in your yard. Your eyes didn’t leave him the entire time, and relief didn’t fill you when the silhouette eventually left.

One of the upsides to a small town was that it took no time for you to hear sirens coming from down the street. You hurriedly ran downstairs, opening the door as the cruiser pulled into your yard. Steve greeted you, and you did calm down a bit at the familiar face.

“Is he still here?” was the first thing he asked, one hand on his gun.

“I don’t know,” you whispered, placing one hand on your heart and the other on your forehead.

He briefly touched your shoulder before telling you he was going to secure the perimeter of the property. You stood in your doorway while he did so, trying, and failing, to convince yourself that you’d imagined it. After all, the worst thing to happen in your town was your family’s car accident. Strange men skulking about people’s homes was unheard of.

When Steve was done, he shook his head at you, one foot on your steps.

“It’s all clear.”

You didn’t know whether or not to be relieved.

“Are you sure it was a man? Not some animal?”

You shrugged.

“I…don’t know. I was trying to fall asleep just before so it’s possible. I’m sorry,” you apologized.

He sighed.

“It’s alright. This is my job, remember? This is what I’m here for,” he told you.

“Thank you,” you breathed. “I appreciate it, Steve.”

He paused, blue eyes connecting with yours as the corner of his lips curved upwards into a smirk.

“That’s Officer Rogers to you.”

You blinked, brows furrowing just a tad as he turned away.

“You try to get some sleep,” he threw over his shoulder.

You hurriedly closed your door as he drove away, frown deepening as you mulled over his cold behavior.

~

tags: @harryspet​ @darkficreposter​ @mcudarklibrary​ @jtargaryen18​ @kellyn1604​ @readermia​ @sebabestianstan101​ @villanellevi​ @opheliadawnwalker3​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @nickyl316h​ @captainchrisstan​ @coconutqueen21​ @briannab1234​ @buckybarnesplumwhore​

[katzkinder]

London Bridge Is Falling Down

Envy Pair version of my Counting Sheep series! Himiko is my headcanon for the name of Mikuni's mother. Since Mikuni's name contains the character for "kingdom," I thought this name belonging to an ancient queen suited his mother well.

Mikuni is annoying.

That’s something Jeje has always known, ever since Mikuni was a child, ever since the first time he saw him, bounding around his mother’s skirts and throwing himself into Lily’s arms to be held and cuddled and fawned over while Jeje had slunk back to the cellars. Himiko had been so bright, back then, the rot of Envy not yet showing in a visible way, that tiny baby that would grow into his brother’s Eve gurgling happily in her arms.

Jeje was the one who had found him. Himiko had wept when she saw him, all the anger and hate leaving her at once, vanishing as if it never existed when she laid her eyes on the fragile little bundle, swaddled in soft fabrics with little gloves on his impossibly tiny hands. She had sobbed all the harder when she took the crying child from him, her hands shaking while she cradled him close, useless apologies spilling from her pretty lips. The body of the babe’s mother had rapidly been growing cold on the carpet, and little Misono… Would remember none of it.

(Jeje remembered all of it, though. He doesn’t think a single moment will ever fade from his mind, no matter how many eons pass)

As Mikuni had grown, with Jeje watching over him as a silent, imposing, guardian angel, always behind the boy’s mother while she had read bedtime stories to him, always so aware of those bright, bright, too bright eyes, Jeje had also become aware of a number of other things, and those things remained true into adulthood. Mikuni has all of his mother’s gorgeous looks (and some from his father, but admitting as such is just asking to be choked), her stubborn brightness, her sharp tongue and wit, but more than any of that...

Mikuni is annoying.

...Because he never listens to what’s good for him. Just like his mother before him, he had taken Jeje despite his warnings, and some bitter, sick part of Jeje had wanted him to. The same part of him that had given in to Himiko herself.

But, well, he’d always known Mikuni never listened, too.

He wonders if Lily knows, though he doubts that he’s aware, of those golden afternoons when Mikuni would sneak down to his hiding place and find him lurking near the boilers, the excited, terrified whispers of Lily’s children, his human children, chasing after the young heir as he confidently hopped down, step by step, into the “monster’s” lair.

They had talked. About nothing. About everything. Well, actually, Mikuni had talked, seemingly not caring that Jeje never said much back, incredible and beautiful and… Well, there was a reason everyone called Mikuni brilliant.

Jeje knew better, though.

***

The most annoying thing about Mikuni, in his opinion, is not how loud he is. It’s not his contrariness, or his capriciousness, or his constant, gnawing curiosity causing him to make mischief.

The most annoying thing about Mikuni was how badly he wanted people to think he was naturally good at everything.

See, Mikuni was smart. Jeje would give him that. But he was also very stupid. It wasn’t as if he lacked common sense, though sometimes Jeje wondered, but it was like Mikuni wanted people to resent him.

More than anyone Jeje had ever met, his Eve was a hard worker. Someone who hated owing others a single damn thing. It was that useless pride and sense of responsibility for things that couldn’t possibly be Mikuni’s fault, things Jeje suspected, no matter how much he denied it, Mikuni had learned, had internalized, from his father and from Lily, that was why Jeje refused to call Mikuni brilliant like everyone else.

...But he did shine. Like a candle in a darkened room. Like a beacon. Warm, and inviting, someone to warm himself beside, even knowing that that flame would burn him up, just like a moth.

The question was... Who would that flame melt into nothing first?

Jeje would be damned twice over if he let it be his Eve.

Turning away from way he had been watching the other man work late hours, hunched over Nod’s ledgers and planners and Mikuni’s own personal notebooks, where his pen scratched across the surfaces of each calculating profits, expenses, bills, new products and designs and promotions and planning trips, Jeje silently makes his way to their kitchen.

Burning the midnight oil just means you won’t have any left when you truly need it.

A snort, reaching for their cabinets. Of course, that’s what Mikuni had him for.

***

He’s gotten very good at brewing tea. Jeje isn’t much of a chef at all, but living with Mikuni for so long, it was practically guaranteed he’d learn to at least make a semi-decent cup, and thank god he had. He would have truly killed Mikuni by now if he hadn’t, he swears, the man is just as persnickety about his tea as Lily is with his coffee.

...He’s also gained a new appreciation for the stuff, but maybe that comes with the territory of spending hours upon hours listening to Mikuni’s one sided argument about the best ways to drink it. It’s hard not to be impressed with all the little details that goes into brewing what’s considered a perfect cup (by Mikuni’s standards, anyway), and even harder still to not feel a fondness for something that draws such genuine passion out of his once charge, now equal.

...It’s such an odd thought. He knows what people think. That Mikuni has always had a stranglehold on him. That Mikuni has always been in charge. That Mikuni has always been someone… Grown up.

Again. Jeje knows better.

He sets the temperature on their electric kettle, one purchased on one of their many visits to the British Isles, sits at their kitchen table, and waits. Thinks.

Mikuni has been grown up for a long time now. And he will continue to grow, and people will continue to think, no matter Jeje’s efforts, that he is a no good, conniving schemer who would sacrifice them all on a wish and a prayer and something like a maybe.

And, well, perhaps they aren’t wrong. Perhaps Jeje is a fool. But if he’s a fool, he’s a court jester, and as court jester he will make absolutely certain this time that the king does not make his mistakes without someone there to make fun of him for it, even if only behind closed doors, even if only between the two of them.

To everyone else, he is a dictator’s executioner, and that’s fine with him. Everyone else doesn’t matter.

His eyes drift to Mikuni’s favorite cup, one made of glass and painted with delicate, swooping strokes of gold, with lilies and a taupe lacquer surrounding all but a window through which one could admire the lovely colors of their favored drink. He takes it into his hands, so much larger than this tiny cup, and finds himself smiling as he turns the joint birthday gift from the Lust pair over and around, admires those intricate, fancy details that speak of quality and knowing down to the letter exactly what Mikuni’s tastes are.

Well.

Almost everyone.

***

The teapot has been warmed, the kettle filled with mineral water and piping hot, and by the time Jeje finishes steeping the loose leaf tea, their little kitchen clock, kitschy and cute and shaped like a cartoon chicken hatching from an egg, reads 2:17 in the morning.

Jeje picks up the cup, the container of melatonin supplements Mikuni has taken since he was twenty at his Servamp’s behest, and carefully carries both back to where he knows the other man will still be completely absorbed in his work.

True to form, Mikuni is still at it. The predictability of his late night, sleepless habits, of his need to do something with his time, makes Jeje’s frown deepen, ever so slightly.

He wishes Mikuni would just rest. Close his eyes, not do anything, just lie there and let Jeje guard him, just be still, be quiet, like did when he was a child.

… He knows better than to think a mind as stubborn and that moves as fast as his Eve’s could ever achieve that, but he can dream. He can also just sicc the Lust pair on him.

That’ll put him to bed real fast.

“What’re you grinning about over there?”

He startles, not having expected Mikuni to acknowledge his presence, and nearly sloshes hot chamomile with lavender onto the pretty little matching saucer that accompanied the cup. It’s a miracle it didn’t fall over completely. Jeje lets out a breath, so quiet it’s inaudible, and curses himself for forgetting that Mikuni can see him right now.

Then again, even if he was wearing his mask, Mikuni would have seen right through him.

He always does.

His Eve is watching him still, waiting for him to move, and then his eyes flick down to what Jeje has in his hands. His lips twist.

Jeje ignores it and continues to make his way over to where Mikuni had been peacefully working. They don’t speak a word to one another, and no sooner than Jeje sets his cargo down, he’s going back the way he came, knowing it’s useless to try and ply Mikuni with words or favors.

The man is annoying in his stubbornness, too.

He hears a sniff behind him, the scratch of pen on paper once more, but it isn’t long before that little noise stops again. A sigh. Jeje chances peering around the doorframe, smiling, just a tad, as a clearly frustrated Mikuni slaps his pen down onto the counter and picks up his cup, no doubt tempted by the smell of his favorite night time blend.

A swallow. Two.

Mikuni unscrews the lid on the melatonin gummies. Pops a couple into his mouth. Chews, and swallows. The tension leaves his shoulders. He allows himself to savor the warmth in his hands.

Jeje leaves him be and heads upstairs to their room, knowing Mikuni now won’t be far behind.

“Jeje,” Mikuni calls after him, voice soft in that way it sometimes, ever so rarely gets, so quiet Jeje almost misses it. “... You still really suck at this.”

Mikuni is annoying.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 20 | S.R.)

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Finale |

Summary: Reader lies to Spencer.

A/N: Please read the content warnings for this one if you have basically any triggers, lol. This is a very heavy chapter - it is the penultimate climax of the story. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Angst (NSFW) Content Warning: 🚨 IMPORTANT – READ BEFORE READING🚨 This episode covers a number of very dark topics, and should be approached at a time when you have support systems available. Potential triggering topics include: sexual assault, violations of consent, suicide, self-harm, pregnancy/termination, infertility, domestic dispute, fighting, and underage drinking, sex w/ blanket consent Word Count: 11K

MASTERLIST

—————————————————

Rossi’s house was every bit as extravagant as I had expected. I had come in honestly hoping to be slightly disappointed so I could mock him for it, but, as always, he had to force his appearance to be as unnecessarily elegant as possible.

That being said, I was a little surprised to find that most everyone gathered in one spot - the kitchen. It was only to be expected, considering it was usually the happiest room in the home. That certainly remained true for Rossi. But they were also all gathered there because that was where the wine was – wine that I was not allowed to drink.

Rossi didn’t have a problem with it… Spencer did. Because of course he did. And while I politely declined when Rossi offered me some, anyway, I found another offer a little more tempting. Which explains why I found myself clutching Derek’s flask and draining half the contents quickly enough to remind him that I was, in fact, in college.

And if anyone were to ask, I would simply tell them that we were hanging out in the hall outside the bathroom to have a very deep and secret heart-to-heart about our shared love for a certain mop headed genius. It would have been the perfect cover to use on pretty much everyone except…

“Ahem.”

The sound of Spencer’s throat clearing behind me was enough to cause me to choke, and I quickly tossed the closed flask back to an already giggling Derek as I shouted, “Fuck!” I didn’t even turn around when his hand snaked around my hip. Instead, I just groaned.

“The narc’s here,” I whispered to Derek, but he knew better than to answer.

“The narc?” Spencer balked, much to his friend’s delight.

“It was fun while it lasted,” Derek offered in consolation, taking a swig out of the flask and earning a very defensive glare from my boyfriend. In fact, Spencer seemed downright pissed, which wasn’t what I had been expecting when I agreed.

Oops. What’s the male equivalent of a cat fight?

“Morgan, didn’t you lecture me about her drinking underage a few months ago?” he snapped, grabbing the flask from a more than willing Derek. Spencer sniffed the contents and immediately recoiled, tossing it back again.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he mumbled, shooting a glance down to see me sort of just making heart eyes at the sight of my boyfriend being a stupid level of jealous that I'd been caught in the hallway with another boy.

“How does that make it better? That makes it patently worse,” he argued. Derek might have responded to it, too, if I hadn’t latched myself onto Spencer’s side.

“You’re so cute when you get all stupid and possessive,” I drawled, burying my face in his shoulder in what I think was supposed to be a playful kiss, but actually just ended up being a muffled laugh.

“That,” Derek chuckled, pointing to me teetering back and forth on my heels at Spencer’s side, “That is my cue to leave.” With one final wink, he whispered, “Don’t be too hard on him, Princess.”

Spencer’s angry sigh and entirely stiff posture should have served as my warning, but it was just funny to me at the time.

“They all think I’m the boss of us,” I giggled. “Me! The boss!”

“You’re drunk.” His tone dropped the second Derek was out of earshot, and on intimidation alone, he managed to back me against the wall.

“So is everyone but you. They won’t even notice,” I mumbled, although the more the hallway started to spin, the less I believed that. I'd never been very good at math or shots, and this was a pretty horrible miscalculation of just how much of my tolerance I’d lost.

“You really couldn’t wait a few more months? Or at least until we got home?”

He was chastising me, and I just wasn’t there to hear it. I probably could have figured it out if I’d tried, but it all sounded like sexy nonsense at the time. Walking my fingers down his chest, I paused at his belly before hooking them in his pants and pulling his hips against mine.

“I’m allowed to drink if my daddy says so,” I purred.

Spencer didn’t find my taunt as charming as I’d hoped, and before I knew it his hand was roughly pressed over my jaw. He tilted my head back to look him in the eyes, and I wondered if he could smell the whiskey on my breath.

“Well, I didn’t,” he growled.

I never said I was a perfect person, or even a smart one. And when I was drinking and Spencer whipped out his Daddy voice, I don’t know what he really expected me to do. But apparently, trying to grab his dick through his pants was the wrong move. He snatched my hand away quickly, slamming it against the wall before he continued his little impromptu lecture.

“I’m not rewarding you for this. We’re going home.”

“That’s not a very scary threat,” I deadpanned, throwing my body weight back against the wall.

That lasted about four seconds before he pulled me back to my feet and leaned forward to whisper in my ear. “Just wait, little girl. Just you wait until I get my fucking hands on you.”

I was going to make a snarky joke, to remind him that his hands were surely and firmly already on me, but I never got the chance. We were both too distracted by the very loud and very high pitched squeal of Penelope as she rounded the corner.

“Ah! I saw nothing!” she shouted, covering her face with her hands and refusing to remove them.

“Yeah, because we aren’t doing anything,” I laughed. But then, being the slightly cruel brat that I was, I stuck my tongue out at Spencer before tacking on a completely unnecessary, “anymore.”

“We weren’t doing anything before either!” he squeaked back. He wasn’t using his Daddy voice anymore. So swiftly, so easily, he’d been knocked from his higher footing.

Penelope took the words to heart, but only enough to slowly lower her fingers and peek between them. With a shaky voice and an awkward laugh, she started to rant. “Oh. It’s fine. I’m cool. We’re all cool. We don’t have to talk about that thing from the first time I met you ever again. Because we said we’d never talk about it again, do you remember that?”

“I do remember that,” I answered with a very sarcastic tone and a nod.

“And I just brought it up again, didn’t I?”

“Yes,” I whispered, “Yes, you did.”

“I’m so sorry. Spencer, Hotch is looking for you,” she rushed, turning to the beet-red boy at my side. “Okay, that’s it. Take your time, because I’m cool and not at all mortified.” She was basically already gone before she'd even finished talking, taking off in the direction she'd come from while downing the drink in her hand.

With a loose, clumsy wave I shouted back, “Bye, Penelope.”

“Mortified is a good word. An accurate word,” Spencer huffed as he wiped a hand over his face. His bashfulness, while cute, was not as exciting as the pre-Penelope behavior.  

Running my hands underneath his blazer and up his back, I pressed my chest against his. “Gosh, Dr. Reid. You need to be more appropriate in such a public setting.”

The words, while meant to get him riled up, did more to frustrate me. My drunken mind was more than happy to revert to the metro, and before I knew it, my daydreams were filled with images of Spencer stuffing me into the tiniest closet he could find and having his way with me.

“Oh, I’m the one lacking manners?” Spencer chuckled as he apparently read my very lewd thoughts. He pried my arms off of him and pulled them back to rest at my sides before pressing a strangely chaste kiss on my forehead. “Go get your stuff. I’m going to go talk to Hotch and I’ll meet you by the door.”

Before he disappeared around the corner, he shot me one last warning glance and ordered, “Do not mingle!”

“Don’t worry, I will!” I yelled back.

Once he was gone, it was my job to figure out how to make my body work again. Luckily, it wasn’t the first time I’d had too much to drink in a room filled with drunk adults. Granted, they usually weren’t all cops, but, whatever.

Turns out, it somehow made it easier. I managed to grab my things off the counter without alerting anyone except Penelope, who quickly turned back around with a blush. She probably figured I was gonna go blow him in the bathroom or something. I’d have been offended if the thought hadn’t literally just crossed my mind. I made it all the way to the door before I heard it. Back through the halls, a few of the group had separated to talk about how much harder it had been to see Hotch and JJ. It was nothing, just a little bug spreading through daycares like wildfire. That wasn’t what upset me, though.

No, the thoughts running through my head were more than just a passing thought of kids sick with a cold. I looked up at the walls of the entryway to Rossi’s home and saw intricate moulding and nothingness. I saw the exquisite, pristine rug underneath my feet, and I thought about how lonely it felt.

I was standing in a house that should have felt happy, filled with friends and family and love. There was no doubt that everyone who was there wanted to be there, and probably had nowhere else they’d rather be. But the tall ceilings and thousands of square feet felt so goddamn empty.

It isn’t the building, I heard a tiny, terrified voice call out from inside my own conscience.

It’s you. You’re empty.

I had to leave. I had to get out of the house. I had to hear the silence so that the nothingness would feel more appropriate and less noticeable. I couldn’t let them see me, because if they saw me, they would know. They would know that I was nothing but a husk of the girl they used to know. Without even thinking, I threw the door open, stumbling forward and almost falling flat on my face as I misjudged the small step down to the patio.

“Fuck!” I muttered, the world rocking around me with a stubborn persistence. If it weren’t for the frankly freezing temperature, I was sure I would have been sick. To make matters worse, there was a person quickly approaching.  

“Hey, are you and Spence leaving already?”

It was JJ. Thank god, it was JJ. Probably the only person who wouldn’t make fun of me for being a mess on Rossi’s steps after only a few shots of whatever Morgan was drinking.

“Oh. Hey, JJ. Yeah. He’s…” I turned to my side, half expecting Spencer to be there to answer for me. But he wasn’t, so I ended up just pointing to the closed door before slurring, “he’s doing a thing.”

She was, per usual, very kind when faced with my buffoonery, and just laughed as she shook her head. “A thing. Sounds like him.”

I honestly thought that would be the end of it. It was a good, easy segue into a farewell. She already knew we were leaving, and she knew Spencer well enough to know that he wouldn’t leave me alone for long.

And I think she almost did leave. She almost walked right past me and into the warmth and comfort of a home filled with family and friends. But she didn’t. She stopped and asked me the one question I was really hoping she wouldn’t.

“Are you alright?”

I didn’t want her to ask because I knew that I wouldn’t be able to lie to her. Even if I could have managed it, she would have seen right through me in a second. Not only would it have been an exercise in futility, but she would also know that I thought it was worth it to try to lie.

So, I was honest… quite possibly too honest.

“No, not really. But it’s a lot and I’m kind of drunk, so…”

The mom eyes appeared so quickly, with JJ’s body turning entirely away from the door and over to me. “Not usually a good combination, but an understandable one,” she softly replied, wrapping her arms around herself to make up for the fact that she was sacrificing her comfort in many different ways to talk to me, instead.  

She was probably just being nice— staying with me until Spencer could come take over the babysitting of the drunk twenty year old, but I wasn’t exactly thinking critically at the time. Which is only part of the reason why I blurted out the only thing on my mind; the thing that had been haunting me for longer than I wanted to admit even to myself, much less another person.

“Has Spencer ever talked to you about kids?”

The air, still freezing, also fell uncomfortably silent.

“Oh…” she mumbled under her breath, clearly unsure of how to handle that particular minefield of a topic. Especially with her best friend’s girlfriend, who also happened to be drunk. I almost told her to forget about it, but then she looked up at me with a powerful resolve. “Yeah, he has. Why?”

I thought about my next words more carefully, although you wouldn’t have been able to tell considering how much I stuttered.

“Do you think… Do you think he’d be happy if… I can’t have them?” I asked, wringing my hands together over my stomach. “Like, not just happy today, but like ten years from now?” I could hear how desperate I sounded, but I needed someone to hear the words playing on loop in my mind. Absolutely frantic and with tears pooling in my eyes, I asked, “Do you think he’d still love me if I can’t give him kids?”

“(Y/n), slow down. It’s okay!” JJ urged, lunging forward to cup my cheeks and gently wipe away any stray tears. “Don’t cry! You’ll ruin your make up and it looks like you spent a lot of time on it.”

I had to laugh because not only was it my exact brand of humor, she said it with such a serious face that I had to wonder if it was genuinely her biggest concern. Of course, I knew it wasn’t. In her usual JJ way, she just knew the easiest way to cheer me up was with a laugh.

“Yeah, there’s like $80 on my face, it’s really not worth it to cry,” I agreed, sniffling softly when she finally pulled away her hands. At least I could blame that part on the cold.

“Exactly. And if you cry, then I’ll cry, and then I’ll also ruin my make up, and we’ll just be $150 down the drain with nothing to show for it,” she joked with a tired roll of her eyes and a shrug.  

Together, we laughed, finding a pocket of warmth in a world that often felt too cold. Behind JJ’s eyes though, I saw an empathy I wasn’t expecting. That small, instinctual part of my brain tugged at my heart, telling me that there was an unspoken bond forming. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t know why. I had a feeling that it was one of those secrets you just didn’t ask about, so I let it go.

“Thanks. It’s a stupid thought anyway,” I sighed, shuffling my feet and knocking my heels against the somehow spotless patio. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, so why stress about it, right?”

But then JJ said something I wasn’t expecting. Something that I actually really, really needed to hear.  

“I don’t know, I think you’re allowed to be worried. It’s normal to feel scared.”

The sentence hit me like a freight train carrying lead and cement. At first, my brain refused to comprehend it at all. I struggled to repeat the idea, not because I was drunk but because it sounded so wrong. I had wanted it to be true so badly, and here she was, telling me it was okay.

Sensing my simultaneous trepidation and revelation, JJ cringed a bit when she said, “But I think it is a good idea to talk to Spence about it instead of me. Because, to be honest, I’ve also had one too many glasses to be helpful.”

That time when I laughed, it was full-hearted and involved every muscle in my body. “God, I love you, Jennifer,” I said through the noise.

She just shook her head, clearly enjoying the drastic mood swing she’d had a great part in. “I love you, too,” she whispered, running her hand over my shoulder and arm to pull me into a small half-hug. And that was how Spencer found us, giggling and sniffling on Rossi’s porch.

“Hey, are you ready to— Oh! Hey JJ,” he stopped, taking a very hesitant step forward in the hope that we wouldn’t both start crying on the spot. Drunk girls had a tendency to do that. “W-What are you guys doing out here?”

She let me go first, shoving her hand, still damp with my tears, into her pockets with a secretive smile. “Girl talk.”

“That usually doesn’t bode well for me,” Spencer answered with an awkward, nervous laugh. He didn’t make a move to grab me yet, probably too scared to step between the two of us. I was too busy giggling at the thought of his mind cycling through all the possible secrets I might have spilled in my uninhibited state.

I was tipsy, but I wasn’t that drunk.

JJ pulled two fingers over her mouth in a cheeky motion as she whispered, “My lips are sealed.”

“An even worse sign,” Spencer winced, turning to finally wrap his arm around me. He must have noticed the chill on my skin, because seconds later he had me practically wrapped in his coat. “I should just cut my losses and get her out of here, huh?”

“Shut up, old man,” I slurred, cuddling closer to his body heat despite my protests. Even in the darkness, I watched the heat bloom in his face at the nickname. By far, the worst part about the situation was the fact that I couldn’t kiss him, because I just knew he would be so warm, and I was really starting to get cold. I suspect that’s why he started to whisk me away, unceremoniously shushing me as JJ cleared her throat and raised her hand in a wave.  

Before we got too far, though, I heard her speak again. “Oh! (Y/n), your questions!”

“What about them?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder and nearly falling to the ground as a result.

JJ looked at me, and then back to Spencer, whose arm was wrapped possessively around me. She smiled a pure, toothy grin that filled her face, causing that weird feeling in my gut to flare up again. She saw something in that moment that I wasn’t sure I’d ever really understand, but her voice started to crack just enough to notice when she called out, “The answer is yes. To all of them.”

 —————————————————

 The ride back to Spencer’s place was uneventful, though I tried very hard to make it interesting. After the fourth time he'd swatted away my hand and threatened to throw me in the back, I gave in to his demand to behave. I blamed my compliance on the alcohol, although it was probably more so a result of total exhaustion.

The respite from socialization was apparently what I needed to be able to function again, because as soon as we pulled into his apartment parking lot, I was awake.

... Awake enough to try and maul him in the hallway. But, in his sober stubbornness, he continued to evade my advances all the way until his front door clicked shut behind us. His hands on my hips had never felt like such a victory before.

“Did you enjoy wreaking havoc all night?” he whispered, slowly leading us towards his room. I couldn’t see where I was going, but I didn’t need to. Even without an eidetic memory, my body cherished this path and the memories it always led to. I trusted him to catch me if I stumbled. Which, I definitely did.

“I’m the cutest devil you’ll ever see,” I slurred.

“At least you admit it,” Spencer laughed. I couldn’t tell if it was at my words or the fact that I was failing terribly at trying to unbutton his shirt. My drunk self was not a skilled multitasker.

Once I felt the bed against the back of my thighs, I hopped on top of the covers before he could even try to help me up. It was muscle memory. We’d been there before.

“I’m feeling more fallen angel tonight,” I sighed, sliding against the comforter until I found his pillow.

Naturally, Spencer saw the way I gravitated to his side. He smiled as he removed his shirt that I’d left mostly intact. “By all means, feel free to stay that way.”

I probably should have taken off my dress, or my shoes, but I didn’t. The world sort of felt like a wave pool on a sunny day, and I was worried that if I paid too much attention to what was going on around me, I'd think about something I really didn’t want to think about.

I couldn’t remember what it was.

But then Spencer’s hands were gliding up and down my calves, and I shuddered at the contact. He took his time removing my shoes before coming up to join me on all fours. I wondered if he could taste the whiskey on my tongue when he kissed me. Did it remind him of the circumstances that had brought us together? Did it remind him of his hangover and sins?

Did he think of monsters when he kissed me?

My hands were tangled in his hair, pulling lightly to try to keep him there. And when he pulled away, I tried to fight him. I tried to follow him, scared that once the kiss was over, I’d start remembering things I probably should have tried to forget.

He must have seen the denial in my eyes, because he hesitated. His hand came up to lightly grab my wrist and lead my hand that had a death grip on his hair down to his face. “Are you too drunk? Should we stop?”

Throwing my head back with a groan, I tried not to hate him for actually caring about me again. “If you stop right now, I’m going to actually scream,” I droned. It got me a laugh, at least.

“That doesn’t comfort me in the slightest.”

Once I opened my eyes, I found myself wishing I hadn’t. It wasn’t that I saw hesitancy or fear in Spencer’s eyes – on the contrary, it was the lack of anything bad at all that bothered me. I looked into his eyes and saw nothing but a sincere, pure adoration that I couldn’t argue with.

I chose to ignore it, instead. I couldn’t remember why it made my stomach hurt.

“Are you going to make me do a sobriety test?” I giggled, letting my hands travel down his shoulders and chest. I wasn’t in as much of a rush as I had been earlier. I wanted to take my time remembering what it felt like to be pinned under him and surrounded by his embrace.

“I’m positive that you’ve practiced those while drunk,” he playfully replied while trying to hide the way goosebumps followed my fingers as they trailed down to more interesting territory.  

“Yeah, I can say the alphabet backwards and everything.”

It was meant as a joke, but Spencer apparently had some doubts. With a scrunched up smile, he laughed back as he asked, “Really?”

The fact that he believed I was capable of something like that might have been flattering if it hadn't been based on his incredibly flawed perception of my propensity to lawbreaking. But since it was based on ideas of immorality rather than intelligence, it just made me mad.

Smacking him lightly on the chest, I both pouted and laughed as I snapped back, “No, of course not, asshole!”

Spencer just grinned, giving a delayed wince at the offensive contact before he sat up again. I didn’t realize why at first, but as he slowly started to coax me into turning around, I remembered that I was, in fact, still fully dressed. I figured it was either his way of saying that I’d won, or just an excuse to take off the dress so I might actually go to sleep. I was fine with either.

“I was drunk the first night we met, if you’ve forgotten,” I mumbled, rolling onto my side of the bed and moving my hair so that he wouldn’t catch any in the zipper.

“I definitely haven’t forgotten that night.”

The nostalgia in his voice was both comforting and painful. We’d always joked about that night, though. It wasn’t an insult at all.

“No? Do you think about it often?” I replied playfully, forcing myself not to think too hard about whether he wished I was still the girl he'd met that day.

Spencer made it easy to forget, with his hand starting to draw the zipper down while he leaned forward to whisper in my ear, “I think about it all the time.” My breath hitched in my throat at the way his voice warped into a rough, raspy tone. “You almost made me believe that you were just some shy, innocent little girl.”

This time when he got me to turn back over, there was nothing gentle about it. His hands were clearly craving the kind of violence they got to use last time. I wanted to feel them again.

“We can make a new memory if you want,” I panted, looking up at him with wanton eyes and my dress loose enough to expose parts of my breasts to him.

“Fuck,” he muttered at the sight below him. He pressed his erection against my hip as he ran a hand over my cheek. “Tell me the rules.”

“I tell you to stop if I need to,” I carefully enunciated.

“Good girl,” he moaned, starting to rock against me. Struggling to pull my dress off himself, he pleaded in a slightly pitiful manner, “Can I…?”

I helped him, desperate to feel his skin against mine. I didn’t even think about what it meant for my dress to be gone. It wasn’t until Spencer’s mouth dropped to my chest so enthusiastically that I realized that he’d failed to stop and kiss my lips first.

With both hands on my breasts, he lavished each pebbled peak with his fingers and tongue. He hadn’t ever mentioned the fact that he’d missed me shirtless, but it was painfully obvious in the way his lips trailed along my body. It was obvious in the rumbling of his moans against my skin and the way his hands roughly kneaded the soft tissue.

I was forced to remember why I hadn’t let him see me topless.

I felt naked. Not because of the exposed skin, but because I couldn’t warp reality with lace or cotton anymore. My marred stomach might not have made a physical barrier, but it still made him feel so far away. It was a paralyzing kind of realization, and I felt myself retreat so quickly that it hurt.

Thankfully, it was Spencer who was kissing me. If it had been anyone else, I think I would have just laid there, terrified and small and alone. But I couldn’t do that with him.

“Spencer?” I quietly called, and he immediately stopped, his eyes meeting mine with all the attention a girl could ever ask for. I smiled, and the sensation almost felt foreign.

“Come kiss me here instead,” I said with a little giggle, tapping my lips to bring him back to where I wanted him. And he came to me so quickly, his mouth crashing onto mine in seconds and his hands tangling in my hair.

I had forgotten so quickly how easy it was to get lost in him. Thanks to the alcohol, my mind wasn’t able to stick with any thought for longer than a few seconds. Mixing that with Spencer’s hands and mouth, I was never going to be able to think in more than a few words at a time. And I shouldn’t have needed to, right? It was just sex. We’d done it many times before, and it had never been a disappointment. But there was a nagging feeling in the back of mind — some instinctual warning that told me I was doing something wrong.

I wanted him, so what could be wrong about that? There was nothing painful or unappreciated in the way he lined himself up at my entrance, and I certainly made that much clear. It was hard to even hear him over the sound of my own moans, and my nails dug into his shoulder as I guided him into me with my hips.

“I love you,” I cried, wrapping my legs around his waist and digging my heels into the back of his thighs.

“I love you so much, little girl,” he whispered against my lips, his forehead resting against mine.

For a moment, it was okay. The feeling subsided long enough for me to enjoy the fact that Spencer, the man I loved, loved me back. I thought about how long it had taken us to get to this point, and how I never wanted to lose it again. I held onto him for dear life, rocking my hips to meet his and bringing his mouth down to mine.

It was okay, until he spoke again.

“You’re such a good girl,” he groaned into my mouth, “even when you’re being bad you just want to be useful.”

Useful.

The word had come back to haunt me several times in the recent weeks. I hadn’t said anything about it because I couldn’t understand why it bothered me so much. There was no reason for me to be upset. He was just saying what I usually liked to hear.

So why did it hurt?

And I realized then, that the reason that experience felt so horrible wasn’t because of me at all. It was because it was Spencer. It was Spencer, the man I loved. There he was, trying to love me and comfort me and hold me and I…

In a rush of emotions and memories and repressed regrets, I was forced to face the fact that I had made a terrible mistake. The kind of mistake that if I didn’t do something about it in that exact, immediate moment, would become a disaster. The kind of disaster that meant he might never want to touch me again. The kind that would make him hate me. The kind that would make him leave and I couldn’t blame him for.

I had made a mistake.

“Wait, wait, Spencer, stop!” I slurred, my hands that had been holding him close seconds earlier shoving him off of me with the little force I was capable of. It didn’t take much, though, considering how fast he jumped back.

Frantic and terrified, he grabbed my face and tried to inspect my eyes that were avoiding him. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t look at him. “No, I just really need to stop,” I muttered, my breath picking up even more as I slid away from him, “Can I just— Can you just give me a minute?”

My hands slid over my chest, trying to hide the shame I felt inside to no avail. Spencer only made it worse in the way he quickly grabbed clothing, covering me in his shirt before he dressed himself. He even took the time to find me pants and help me in them, quietly and carefully. Like a doll.

I was going to be sick.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me,” he croaked brokenly while he curled up at my side, trying to wrap his arms around me before he realized I was shrinking away from his touch. He was so confused. He had no reason to know what was going on, but I could see on his face that he was desperately trying to figure it out.

“Does this have something to do with what you were talking to JJ about?”

An interesting question. I didn’t know the answer.

“Yes. No? Maybe. I guess?” I ran a hand over my face that landed on my throbbing temple. The lack of tears on my face almost surprised me. I probably should have been crying, but I wasn’t. In a way, it felt like I had no tears left to give. When I turned to him, bile rose in my throat and I was afraid that I might choke on it if I didn’t get the words out faster. I just had to tell him. He needed to know.

“Listen, I lied to you. And I need to say something.”

I had just gotten my breathing under control, just in time for his to go erratic. His pulse was visible in his throat as he swallowed. “Lied to me? About what?”

“I…” The world was rocking, and I couldn’t tell if it was because of the alcohol or my brain trying to comprehend my own self-destructive stupidity. I knew which one I was going to blame, though. “Fuck, I didn’t think I was this drunk.”

“What did you lie to me about?” he repeated, his hands gripping handfuls of the sheet in hopes of stopping the rest of his body from trembling.

“Well, I didn’t lie, I just didn’t tell you.”

It was the most useless clarification, and it did absolutely nothing to appease his concern. The longer the words stayed stuck and muddled in my mouth, the more devastated he seemed. In hindsight, I would realize all the millions of awful reasons his mind must have been feeding him in the absence of the truth.

“Please, whatever it is, just tell me,” Spencer begged with a hesitant, shaky hand coming to rest on top of mine. He wasn’t looking at me anymore. Instead, we both looked down at our hands. It was a mercy and a disservice. I just had to tell him, but I couldn’t convince myself to do it without looking him in the eyes. That didn’t mean I wasn’t grateful that he didn’t look back, though. Because once the words were said, there would be no going back from them.

He was going to hate me.

“I… stopped taking my birth control,” I whispered in a voice that felt so foreign. “Like, a while ago.”

Spencer’s jaw steeled, his eyes widening and shooting up to me with the same speed he used to jump off the bed. Despite my efforts to grab him, to stop him from leaving me, he was five feet away in a matter of seconds.

“What?!” he shouted. It was the loudest I’d ever heard him. Even the echoes felt deafening, and my hands covered my ears with a wince.

“Shit! That was loud!” I whined in a pathetic attempt to make him feel bad for me. I didn’t deserve it, but I think it worked. Because the next time he spoke, it was at a more manageable volume.

“What do you mean you stopped taking your birth control?! When?!”

“Stop yelling at me.” I pulled my knees to my chest and ignored the pain in my stomach when I did so. It felt well deserved.

“You aren’t joking, either. Why didn’t you tell me this?” Spencer continued, his hands raking through his hair while he started to pace the room.

Nothing about it felt real. I felt like I was stuck in one of my million recurring nightmares. I just wanted to wake up, to be somewhere other than in a room too small for the bass in his voice. I only barely saw him when he finally approached me. He still stayed a few feet away, but he met my eyes that stared vacantly at the wall ahead of me.  

“Answer me!”

Whether it was the order that broke me or the pain in his voice, all of my resolve and apathy shattered at once.

“You’ve always said you wanted to get me pregnant!” I screamed back, digging my nails into my skin in the hope of finding feeling there.

“Not like this! Not right now!” he scoffed. The sound would have hurt more if he hadn't stepped closer to me when he made it.

“Why not?!” I tried to sound angry, but all I heard was the plea beneath the words.

I just want to be useful. Please let me be useful.

“Are you serious?” Spencer’s disbelief was present in every ounce of his existence. His hands were alternating between fists and flat palms, his voice cracking and wavering in pitch. “What has gotten into you? You know that you can’t have a child right now.”

I bit down on my tongue in one final attempt to keep the scary words inside. But he couldn’t feel the way his words felt just like bullets and scar tissue that would never fully heal again.

“You almost died! Do you—“ he choked, but powered through his body’s attempt to stop the thought. “Do you understand the danger that would put you in?”

“I know, alright?! I know!” The words were loud and hoarse, and I covered my own ears to hopefully drown out the sound of failure on my own tongue. “I know I can’t have a fucking kid right now!”

“Then what are you doing?!”

I don’t know. Please, help me.

He waited for my answer, but it stayed trapped in my head. When I started to rock in place, my hands still clamped over my ears and the tears I swore I didn’t have starting to fall, he sighed.  

“Get up, we’re going to the store.”

“Why?” I spat, sinking further into my spot in a purely selfish manner.

“Get up,” he said again, this time reaching out for my hand.

But I didn’t want to touch him. I didn’t want him to touch me like this. I was scared that if I did what he wanted, then the fight would be over. And if the fight ended, then what would be left? Was this all just some elaborate ruse to get me in his car so that he could drive me home and leave me there?

His hand touched mine so softly, with so much patience and love that it burned. Why wasn’t he angrier? He should be.

“No!” I screamed, smacking his hand away from me. Although I knew it didn’t hurt, I saw him wince at the contact. His lips flattened as he looked at the stupid sobbing girl on his bed.  

Then he left. He turned on his heel, and with less patience that time, grumbled the explanation he'd refused to give before. “We’re going to the store and getting levonorgestrel so that you don’t make the stupidest mistake of your life.”

It wasn’t the words that got me to move, but the fact that he was quickly leaving the room. I scrambled after him recklessly, crashing into just about every stationary object in the way. The shock had hit me so hard that I forgot I was still drunk.

“Is it really that awful to imagine having a future with me?” I sobbed, chasing after him just to crash into him when he stopped.

He still caught me, but I couldn’t tell you why.

“You know that’s not what this is about.” He sounded so tired, but he kept going. He kept fighting with me even though I could see in his eyes that it was the last thing he wanted to do. “I love you, (y/n)! But you’re acting like… like a child!”

“Fuck you,” I seethed, pushing myself away from him.

I was scared that if I didn’t force our bodies apart, I would have fallen to pieces in his arms again. And I knew he would try to put me back together again. He would try to help me because that’s what he always did. But sometimes things are just completely, irrevocably broken. Sometimes there was simply no fixing it.

Good luck convincing Spencer of that.

“I don’t need this shit and I don’t need to go to the store,” I muttered under my breath as I made my way back into the bedroom to locate my purse that I’d so gracefully thrown on the floor.

“(Y/n), just because the chances of pregnancy are low doesn’t mean they are nonexistent, and I’m not going to be the reason you throw your life away! You said yourself you aren’t ready to be a housewife!” I heard him rambling from the other room. Eventually, he followed the sounds of plastic packaging and rustling paper.

“Shut up,” I groaned, finally getting the tiny pill free and successfully shoving it in my mouth before I managed to drop it. “Just leave me alone, Spencer.”

Obviously, it wasn’t going to work. After all, I was in his apartment, and currently sitting cross legged in the middle of his bedroom and trying to dry swallow a pill that tasted a lot like every mistake I’d ever made.

“When did you buy that? And why do you have it with you?” He didn’t sound angry at all anymore. He didn’t even particularly sound annoyed or confused, just… exhausted.

“You’re welcome for saving you the drive.”

Of all the things he could have done, he chose the one I expected the least. He came to me, and carefully lowered himself to the ground in front of me. At first, that was all he did. He just sat across from me with puppy dog eyes and an awkward posture.

“Look at me,” he called gently.

“I don’t want to.”

He sighed, waiting another second to catch his breath and let the earlier emotions settle in the air. “You had that in your purse. Why?” he asked as he reached forward to grab the remnants of the torn up box and confirm that it was what he thought it was. Once he was satisfied, he just sounded even more broken. “You’ve clearly thought about it enough to plan ahead, but apparently I wasn’t important enough to have a say in any of these decisions.”

The pain that was forming in my stomach hurt worse than the AR-15.

“Were you just… Just planning on making those decisions without even telling me?” He was on the verge of tears, though he tried his very best to hide it.  It might’ve worked if I'd been both drunk and an idiot, but unfortunately the adrenaline was combatting the alcohol pretty well at that point.

With both hands covering his face, I could still see the way his jaw tensed between the words. “It would be my child, too,” he forced out, “You don’t— You don’t get to make those decisions without me. T-That’s not fair.”

The sounds were so pitiful, and I wanted to feel anything but what I felt. I wanted to feel angry or sad again, but I couldn’t. All I felt was hate; the most powerful, soul crushing self-loathing imaginable.

I didn’t want to be the reason he cried. I wanted it to stop, but I didn’t know how. I couldn’t control myself. I just kept rubbing salt in the wound so he would leave. So that I could hate him for leaving me instead of hating myself for making him.

“There’s no kid. I would’ve taken it either way.”

That succeeded in getting a response.

“Then what was the point of any of this?!” he fumed, dropping his hands to gestured to the state of us, dressed in pajamas and tears. “If you really believe that, then why tell me? Why risk it at all?!”

“I don’t know.”

“I deserve a better answer than that. That’s bullshit and you know it,” he demanded with an accusing finger.

But I didn’t know that it was bullshit. Really, it was the truth. I didn’t know why I was doing this. All I knew was that if I stopped, if I was just honest with him, I would have to face a reality I wasn’t ready for.

“I deserve the truth,” he said as his hand fell, unable to stay up under the weight of the feeling behind it.

I looked at him and I saw my mistakes in the form of tears trickling down his cheeks and a tremble in his lips. I saw a man who deserved nothing but the greatest love, begging me to give him something to work with. He wasn’t asking me for the world — he just wanted me to talk. To say something so that he could understand why I wanted him to hate me.

I didn’t have an answer. Not one that either of us would believe, anyway.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Spencer.” My lips moved without my permission, and my legs quickly followed the traitorous pursuit.

“What does that mean?” he begged me as he followed me. He followed me like he always did, with that suffocating hopefulness that we could make it.

But what if I couldn’t? What if this was it for me? What if, in my desperate desire to push him away, I was saving him from a miserable life with me?

I was trying to save him.

“It means…” I paused, turning to look him in the eyes so that he might finally hear what he needed to in my answer. “It means you should’ve picked a different 20 year old to fuck.”

His jaw finally relaxed, dropping open with a broken breath.

And I think he saw it. I think he saw the way I meant the words from the bottom of my soul. He heard me tell him that he should regret me while I tried to walk away, and he knew that I meant it.

“I’m leaving.” The words surprised me when I heard them in my own voice, but I followed them, nonetheless. I barreled towards the door with bare feet and my keys in my hand.

“Where are you going? You can’t leave like this.” His statements were logical, but that only served to further piss me off.

“You can’t tell me what to do. I’m not your property!”

That wasn’t why I was angry. We both knew that wasn’t why. The real reason, the truth behind the reckless self-destruction was approaching too fast and I couldn’t slow it down. Nothing could stop it from rushing down the predetermined path that we stood on, and I was begging him to get off the tracks.  

“If you leave right now, you’re going to fucking kill yourself!”

And then it happened. Practically foaming at the mouth with the unhinged rage that had been boiling underneath my skin for too long, I finally managed to let the words go.

“Maybe that’s the fucking point!”

Silence had never been so loud. It had never been that heavy.

“Have you ever stopped to consider that, Spencer?” I laughed because there was no reason in my mind not to. It all seemed so terribly obvious and we’d been skirting around it for so long. Why were we pretending like this was news? Like we hadn’t heard the horns and seen the headlights approaching?

“Please stop.” It was said like a plea but meant as an order. But I never listened to directions and he already knew that.

“I’m not your problem just because you were unfortunate enough to fall in love with me,” I continued, finding a freedom in being able to finally say what I’d been thinking all along. “Put me out of my fucking misery, Spencer. Just let me go.”

“Stop!” he shouted, pulling fistfuls of his hair as his chest heaved with deep, rasping breaths. I’d heard that voice from him before, but only once. The memories were locked away in the part of my brain that I swore to leave locked up.

I was back in the bank. I could feel his hands slipping in blood on my stomach and pressing into my cheeks. I was in the ambulance again. His hands were so warm that they burned, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask him to leave. I'd had one foot in the grave then. I felt like I was still there, teetering over the edge with nothing but Spencer’s frantic breathing and desperate begging keeping me from jumping in.

“Stop saying that!” Spencer ordered, his hands letting go just enough to come back down on his head with some force. I jumped at the contact and wondered when I'd started feeling his pain, too.  I wondered when we'd found ourselves back in his apartment again.

“Y-You aren’t going to die!” He continued. It didn’t have the force of an order or the pathetic breaking of a cry. It was just a statement he was trying to will into existence. An attempt to ward off memories that reminded him he was capable of losing me. He had already almost lost me once. In a way, it was this same scenario.

It was just that he wasn’t losing me quickly from a gunshot wound. No, I was bleeding out in an entirely different way.

“You can’t— I can’t lose you. I can’t do it again,” he sobbed, falling to his knees and not caring at all about the bruises that would follow. The sight of him collapsing in on himself was terrifying, and I realized for the first time the true consequences of my actions. I couldn’t pretend that I was trying to save him anymore. I couldn’t listen to the congested, barely comprehensible ramblings of a man begging me not to want to die and act like I was thinking of him at all.

I was being selfish. How very much like me.

“Please, anything but that. You can hate me forever, but please don’t…” The words trailed off, and I felt compelled to answer them. I needed something to release the knot in my chest and allow my lungs to fill again.

“I don’t hate you, Spencer. I could never hate you.” The words were infuriating in their honesty, but he needed to hear them. He needed to know that none of this was his fault, that he’d done nothing wrong other than meet me.

I couldn’t leave him like that. He deserved so much better than me, but that was all that I had. So, I climbed down next to him, reaching out to him and hoping that he would hold me back.

To my surprise, he did. His hands grabbed mine like they were a lifeline, bringing them to his lips wet with tears. And although he was silent, I could hear the way he prayed that they wouldn’t fade away from him again.

“I-I… I don’t know what I’m supposed to tell you. I’m supposed to be the adult here, I’m supposed to know how to fix these things, but I have no idea what I’m doing, (y/n).”

It was an admission Spencer didn’t often make. The complete helplessness and inability to fix the puzzle before him didn’t just hurt because it was painful to watch, it was also just another reminder of his limits.

One time he had promised me that he wouldn’t let anything hurt me. I should have told him that it was a stupid promise to make then. I should have showed him the skeletons in my closet and the mess in my hands.

But it didn’t matter anymore. He had already seen it, and it was too late. I’d made too many mistakes, and I had to face them. I couldn’t run away anymore. That meant listening to Spencer, pouring his heart out to me and clutching my hands like they would turn to nothing in front of him.

“You’re falling apart and you won’t talk to me. I don’t know how to make this stop hurting. I don’t know how to help you. Sometimes you’re so happy but other times I can see it in your eyes…”

Our eyes met, unguarded, for the first time in what felt like hours but was actually probably only a few minutes. We looked into each other’s eyes and tried to read each other’s minds. I didn’t know what he saw, but I heard the way it struck him.

“Do you… Do you want to leave me?” he asked.

And I realized then, that was what my behavior was leading up to. That was what my mind was racing towards, without ever considering whether it was what was best for me. Because I wasn’t thinking about what was best for me, or what I wanted, or what I should want. All I cared about was the same concern Spencer had for me— I didn’t want him to throw his life away just to be with me.

“Is that what you want?” I asked.

Spencer heard something in my question that brought life back to his eyes. I wished that I could hear his thoughts because he always seemed so much farther ahead. Like he could see the immediate future and knew what would follow.

Then again, maybe I was just idealizing him. I had a tendency to do that. He wasn’t a superhero. He was just a man, trying his best in a world that never really let him rest. I certainly didn’t help with that.

“No. No, that’s not what I want at all,” he said, his hands finding the courage to let go of mine and slide up my arms. He cupped my face with such an urgency and relief that it almost felt the same as before I had uttered those terrifying words. “I told you I want to marry you and I wasn’t kidding.”

It only took a few words for any progress and vulnerability to be obliterated. Four words. That’s all it took.

I want to marry you.

A white picket fence is what I’d promised him. I'd painted a vivid image of us with two children that were just like him. A normal, domestic life is what I’d said.

I hadn't known. I'd made a mistake. I had lied.

“Stop fucking saying that!” I wished the fight would leave my body and let my weary muscles rest, but it kept coming back. Sure as the sun rises in the morning, I couldn’t let go of the hatred. It had to go somewhere, and Spencer continued to be the stupid, stubborn man putting himself in front of me without any defenses.

I don’t think he was expecting that, though. He jumped back at the sound, his hands bracing his fall as I flailed to get away from him. I didn’t have the energy or coordination to stand, so I just let myself fall to pieces on the floor in front of him.

“Stop telling me about this future you have planned for us b-because I’m a useless, idiotic fuck up, and it’s freaking me the fuck out!”

Naturally, the only thing that could incense Spencer more than violating his trust was, apparently, talking badly about myself. Because as soon as he heard the words, he was wound up just the same.

“What are you so afraid of?!”

Without thinking about the words, implications, or consequences, I gave him the answer he fought for. I gave it to him because I couldn’t hold it any longer. I gave it to him and hoped that it would grant me the closure he sought, too.

“That I won’t ever be able to give you a baby and you’re going to fucking leave me!”

Spencer, in all his shock and disbelief, could only utter back a single, exasperated, “…What?” The way the word fell out of his mouth almost sounded like a laugh, the side of his lips curling into an almost imperceptible smile.

“I’m scared that when I stop being useful to you, you’re going to leave me like everyone else,” I explained, my voice as small as I felt in that moment.

But Spencer, in his uncanny ability to predict the future, was trying not to smile. Don’t get me wrong — he wasn’t laughing at me, and the words certainly brought him no joy. But there was something else buried beneath the suffering.

“Come here,” he requested with a sad, small grin and a wave of his hand. When he saw the hesitance on my face, he beckoned me closer again with more feeling. “I want to talk to you. Come here.”

So I came. I came as close to him as I could. And as I practically sat in his lap, I remembered how much easier it was to breathe when he held me, and how much lighter the tears felt when he wiped them a way.

“Why do you think I’m going to leave you?” he asked through a chuckle, like the very notion was so unbelievable that it couldn’t be uttered as anything other than a joke.

“Y-You want kids,” I mumbled, looking down at our t-shirts wet with tears. I played with the hem of his to remind myself that we were both still there. And although Spencer sympathized, he didn’t seem too keen on me looking away at that particular moment. With a gentle finger under my chin, he guided my eyes back to his.

“Okay. So do you, right?”

“Well, yeah…” I paused and pursed my lips and bit down on the bottom one. I waited until he raised his eyebrows in a challenge before I explained. “But what if I can’t have any?”

Spencer’s face scrunched up with his shoulders in a dismissive shrug, “There are other ways to have kids. I’m not worried about that at all.”

Just like that, he’d waved away my fears of inadequacy and failure like they were smoke from an already snuffed out candle. He made it so clear so quickly that biology wasn’t the thing that mattered. That it wasn’t my genetics or physical traits that made him want to share a literal life with me.

Spencer didn’t need me to have his children; he just wanted me to raise some with him.

“Why are you worried about that? Did something happen?” he pressed forward, unsatisfied with the idea that I might still be carrying some heaviness without his assistance.

“The doctor told me that I might not ever be able to have my own kids and I just...”

I should have known better than to doubt the insistence of his greedy hands. They would never let a burden belong solely to me. And I… didn’t want to bear the weight alone anymore, either. The dam was broken, and my heart came rushing out into his waiting arms.

“I’m so tired of it, Spencer. I’m tired of this stupid shit stealing my life away from me. You’ve been taking care of me for months, a-and the way you look at me sometimes-- I can see it on your face. I can feel the way it hurts you just to look at me.”

That hurt flashed in his eyes right then but faded with a swiftness I hadn’t seen in a long time. He didn’t want me to see it yet. One fight at a time, I heard him think. When this shifted load balanced between us again, we could figure the rest out.

First, we had to settle this. It had to end.

“If I can’t give you children, and I can’t... I can’t make you happy then—“

“Stop,” he demanded, his finger coming up to cover my lips. There was no argument to be made at his protest. With a deathly seriousness veiled with bowed brows and a lip that still trembled, Spencer whispered to me, “You can feel however you want to, but you don’t get to decide how I feel.”

Tears welled in both of our eyes, threatening to fall with the other. But they didn’t, they stayed pooled at our lashes and drowned us in visions of haloed lights and blurry reflections.

“I am so happy with you. No matter what. Every second of every day. Do you understand me?”

The only answer I had the strength to give was my surrender. Collapsing forward into his arms, I buried my face into his shoulder. I reveled in the warmth of his chest and the strength of his hands on my back. I felt his heartbeat against my cheek as the deep, joyful breaths he took in came out as relieved laughter.

“I love you, (y/n).”

He must have heard, or at least felt, my soft groan in response, because he peeled me off of him with a smirk. “What’s wrong now?” he asked in an equally tired whine.

“You only use my name when you’re angry or sad,” I grumbled through a pout. It only felt a little silly, to joke about something so stupid minutes after screaming our hearts at each other. We were just so tired, and the finish line was in sight. We just wanted to cross it together, and preferably with less tears involved.

Spencer didn’t say any of that, but I felt it, nonetheless. It was clear in the way he pushed my hair from my face before running his fingers down my jaw. “I use your name when I’m worried,” he corrected. “And you scared me tonight. I’m sorry that you’ve been feeling this way.”

We were toeing the line back into heavy emotions, and I shook my head to ask him not to take me back there tonight. But I couldn’t blame him at the same time. He’d so gracefully handled all of my fears and rage; he deserved a chance to voice his own. They’d fallen so far behind in the race towards the truth.

“I understand you were scared to tell me, but...” he stopped, trying to find a way to explain it without hurting my feelings. He really was too nice to me.

“I know. It was stupid. I feel terrible,” I finished for him. Once my face hit his shoulder again, I closed my eyes. “I’m sorry, Spencer,” I said with almost all of the energy I had left. He stroked soothing patterns over my back, and after a moment I realized that we’d started to rock. I wasn’t sure if it was for his benefit or mine.

“I appreciate your apology, but please promise me that you’ll talk to someone about this,” he humbly requested, his words muffled in my hair.

“Isn’t that what I’m doing right now?”

It was almost a joke. Spencer wasn’t going to let it go, though. “Don’t try to be clever with me, little girl. I need you to talk to someone who knows how to help you,” he playfully scolded.

Through a yawn and a chuckle, I pressed on in my attempt to end the night on a horrible joke. “Isn’t that your whole job?”

“Yeah, I guess it is sometimes, huh?” he agreed halfheartedly. Really, he was only trying to give me a little bit of a win. We both knew his job wasn’t very good at helping people before the fact. It was just another poor attempt at avoiding healing. I had been holding on to that anger so tightly that there wasn’t room for us in the space that was left.

“But I think you also know I can’t be that person for you,” Spencer eloquently said, cradling my head as it started to rock with each motion.

“Yeah, I know,” I sighed, “I promise.”

I’m not sure how long we stayed like that, but no matter what, it wouldn’t have lasted long enough. The rhythm of his heart evened out over time, settling into the lullaby I needed to finally find some rest. But realistically, we couldn’t sleep there. Spencer was kind enough to practically carry me back into the bed we had shared when this all started, although this time he laid beside me.

From there, he helped tuck me in and pressed a chaste kiss to my forehead. My eyes were closed, but the smile that spread over my cheeks was enough of a signal that I was still awake.

“Look at me,” he whispered.

My bloodshot eyes opened at his call, and I found love staring back at me. I knew he could see my eyes bouncing back and forth as I tried to see all of it at once in his eyes, and I didn’t care. Even when he kissed me, neither of us closed them.

“We don’t have to worry about anything,” he said as our mouths broke apart. His thumb swept over my cheeks to all the places I knew he was thinking about kissing. There was a very poor attempt to hide his smile at the thought of the future, but I appreciated the effort he put in.

“When you’re ready to try to have kids, I’ll be right there with you,” he said.

It was clear that Spencer really wanted it to be a meaningful sentiment, but I was still a little bitter at his failure to laugh at my previous terrible jokes. So when I saw the opportunity, I took it swiftly and with no regrets.

“I sure hope so, or else I don’t think it’ll work,” I muttered through the side of my mouth before turning onto my back.  

Spencer’s first carefree giggle of the night was my prize, and I couldn’t have loved it any more. “That’s my little girl,” he cooed, curling up against my side and wrapping a possessive arm over my chest.

Just before my eyes fluttered shut, I saw movement below my face. I kept them open long enough to see his pinky presented to me and a knowing look in his eyes. “Everything will be alright as long as we have each other,” Spencer offered.

And despite our bad history with promises, I had no reasons left to doubt that one. 

—————————————————

| Part 21 |