#more maths than the word 'chemistry' implies

[bahoreal]

the FLASHBACKS i had to my atmospheric chemistry courses kdbsshsb god. i can tell you the albedo, aliens. wait hold on im curious

[cardinalcanis]

Compliance

*Comes out of a dark alley* "Hey kid, want some Titus smut to scramble that brain chemistry real good? I got your fix."

This is @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond 's fault.

Summary: Titus was struggling with some unexpected side effects from the Rubicon Surgery, luckily he finds relief in unexpected hands.

Pairing: Demetrian Titus x NB!OC

Tw: smut, Adeptus Mechanicus, prostate massage, edging, genitals are a social construct, technically tentacles, Astartes have more holes than you think (trust me), MATH.

Word count: 7316

Tag squad (let me know if you wish to be tagged on stuff): @druidwolf21 @wolf-feathers12 @artemisareia @adhd-fandom-hyperfocus

@gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @kit-williams @egrets-not-regrets @jaghatai-khock @horuslupercal

@moodymisty @lemon-russ @thisuserislilsilly

@sinistermojo @beckyninja @justallll @ms--lobotomy @pluvio-tea

Mechanicus speech cheat sheet:

When the hyperfocus gets in my mind goes so hard into ideas it gets them pregnant. So as this has a lot of Math Symbols as I went hamm on writing the Tech Priest’s way of speaking. I’m not a mathematician, I played loosely with stuff and their meanings, do not scream at me. Here is a quick list: 

>    -> More than. 

=    -> equals. 

!    -> negation of, no 

+++    -> increase. 

<=    -> less or equal to

&    -> and 

- - -    -> decrease 

T(statement)    -> that statement or thing is always true. 

=>    -> therefore, implies, if… then

!=    -> not equals to

∈    -> belongs to

⇔    -> if and only if, only.  

\/    -> or

P(statement)    -> probability of statement

Statement1 | statement2    -> statement1 happened because statement2 happened. 

E(statement)    -> the statement is an expected result. 

∅    -> null

F(statement)    -> that statement or thing is always false. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lieutenant Demetrian Titus of the Ultramarines, Liberator of Graia, slayer of Grimskull, veteran of the Deathwatch, bane of xenos, executioner of Thousand Sons… reduced to this pathetic drooling mess.

It had started around a month ago, the last bloody bug had been ripped to shreds but still he felt this hunger to keep going. He checked the state of his armor’s system, to his surprise the reserves of adrenaline shots hadn’t been used during the battle. Why did he still feel so restless? When did his bodyglove become so overstimulating? Had the material always been that noticeable on the skin when it was supposed to be seamless? Every single one of his nerve endings was screaming for touch, begging to be rubbed against something, ANYTHING. The worst was his aching groin, he had been close to believing that his codpiece was about to slingshot off him and get someone killed any second now. 

“Testosterone > expected Astartes levels. Positive note. Risk factor = low. !(Possibility) of death.” had stated Magos Biologis Mu-Oragon, brown eyes scanning the dataslate. 

“Low risk factor? I can’t barely focus on anything else Magos. What’s causing this?” 

The mechanicus lifted their gaze from the datapad, pale skin bathed in its faint greenish glow. Titus couldn’t decipher if the person had been male or female before embracing the Omnissiah, but there was a graceful beauty on the mech priest that had been lacking on others of their kind… shit this is bad he’s now sexualizing one of those tin cans.

“This unit understands, patient’s +++frustration = expected. Rubicon <= a year.” 

“Yes.” He had started to rock slightly on his seat, trying to focus on anything else rather than the heat coming from his core. At least his armor helped with masking the worst parts of his current condition, unlike the joke that tried to call itself a robe which he had to wear for examination. 

“[(Rubicon <= a year)&(Testosterone > expected Astartes level)] = normal occurrence.” One of Mu’s mechadendrites reached for the shelf, pulling a heavy binder. They then held it open with the help of their four mechanical arms. “---Symptoms expected. T(Normal progression).” 

“And what do you want me to do in the meantime! I thought the apothecary had referred me here for a solution.” he exclaimed out of frustration standing off the examination table. “Don’t you have any meds you can give me?”

His whole body shivered at the unexpected cold grasp from three mechadendrites pinning him back into a seating position. Blood flowed to his cheeks due to the surprising arousal that came from being manhandled by the seemingly meek Mu. 

“Hormonal cycle must !(be) disturbed => not compliance.  Compliance => possible late implant rejection. I !(compromise) unit Titus’ safety.” Mu-Oragon said in what was a wholeheartedly caring tone, even through the respirator’s distortion.

Titus had been told they had been the one in charge of his rubicon surgery, the one who saved his life. An incredibly dangerous procedure in normal conditions, but with the scale of his wounds it almost meant impossible success. Even with all that he didn’t imagine the Magos would feel protective of him, he was just another number in his surgery record anyways.

“Mu I can’t fight like this…” The same shiver again but now caused by the Magos’ grasp leaving him. Only the phantom feeling of the touch floating over his skin, another painful release he couldn’t attain, adding to the breaking down of his sanity. 

“That statement is true. Hopeful contrast. !(medication) != !(relief).” 

It took him a moment to wrap his head around the meaning of Mu’s words. He had become better at understanding the Magos after the repeated checkups on his condition following the rubicon surgery, yet there wasn’t a chance he could call himself fluent in mechanicus speech, less with someone’s accent as strong as the one in front of him. 

“You can help then, is that what you mean?” 

“Titus attempted stimulation for release = True?” they asked, pulling what seemed to be an informative pamphlet from the binder. 

“You mean if I had tried jacking off?” 

“That statement is true.”

A soft flush washed over Titus’ cheeks, glad the Magos’ examination room was empty today, Emperor only knows how hard this conversation would be in front of others. How could a room feel both so hot and cold at the same time? One of Mu’s mechadendrites tilted his head to drive his attention back towards the mechanicus, the touch has such softness uncharacteristic of what a machine would have. Yet the exception existed on Mu-Oragon, every single one of their four arms and many mechadendrites was designed for careful surgery where an eighth of a millimeter could prove life or death. He couldn’t recall all the instances during previous examinations when he had been touched by them and only noticed it once the contact became absent. 

“Yes I have.” He answered, unfamiliar with the open disclosure of his intimate activities. “It hasn’t been working.”

“Elaboration on process required. Accurate solution given ⇔ accurate description of event.” 

Mu-Oragon seemed to be deciding between a collection of pamphlets and booklets, skimming through them with the many prosthetic ocular lenses around his forehead while keeping their human eyes on Titus, which added to the multiple limbs, gave them quite an arachnid appearance.  

“What do you want me to say? There is not much science to it…” Even though the theoretical was quite clear, for the first time since his neophyte years his mind found itself struggling to find a proper practical for it

Titus held Mu’s gaze, curiously the Magos Biologis had retained both of his human eyes, only attaching more ocular addons around. A thing the astartes found quite curious if compared to others of his kind, who preferred replacing the lesser biological counterparts first. Theoretical: Mu-Oragon retained their human eyes, practical: it was a conscious decision due to the more patient oriented side of their occupation, it helped to establish trust.

He found the practical fitting. Wide almond shaped eyes with a reassuring stare, a window to the candid individual living inside machine parts and shrouded in logic based statements. 

Mu-Oragon’s mechadendrite surprised him again by resting part of its weight on Titus’ shoulder, comprehending the man’s struggle for words. He pondered on how much was Mu’s intent and how much was the limb’s machine spirit acting, he would have been lying if admitting that the relationship between mechadendrites and users wasn’t something he found interesting. One of his brothers, a tech-marine, had explained how they were beings of their own possessing an individual machine spirit; yet perfectly synchronized with his mind. Many times acting upon his thoughts without realizing. 

“Following procedure occurs on common stimulation practice. True \/ false?” asked the Magos, extending a thin booklet towards him that read ‘Comprehensive guide to prostatic stimulation’.   

“No” he answered as stoically as he could, looking at the object being handed to him. 

“Inference: this unit’s previous statement = false.” chirped Mu, computer-like clicks emitted as they spoke, possibly running calculations. “Response to Titus’ current statement: compiled. Deeper stimulation > external. [+++P(relief) = P.relief (Release | deep stimulation)] > [+++P(relief) = P.relief (Release | external stimulation)]. E[(---surplus testosterone) \/ (∅surplus testosterone)]” 

“You mean I can fix this by showing things up my ass?” 

“Statement’s truthfulness cannot be validated. P[ ((---surplus testosterone) \/ (∅surplus testosterone)) | (Simple anal insertion) ] = not conclusive. Remark: Relief of ailment ⇔ proper technique = true.”   

Titus swallowed a knot in this throat, followed by a long sigh. He didn’t expect the prescription for his ailment to be a masturbation technique. 

“Doubts prostatic stimulation = E(relief)?” Asked Mu tilting their head to the side. “Inexperienced = true?” 

Titus nodded, noticing how he had been holding Oragon’s gaze the whole time. 

“I can provide asistance ⇔ (consent = True). (Perform on Titus & explain) ⇔ (consent = True)” 

The booklet crunched a bit as he held it tighter, Mu had pulled him apart and back together before, likely there is no piece of him they haven’t touched… in the medical sense. Throne that simple though made him almost produce a low gasp. A different occurrence may have ended up in the rejection of such a proposal, but his situation was all but common. He could barely stay still without rubbing his aching crotch against something. Theoretical: this is just a medical procedure; practical: nothing else will come out of it. 

“Alright Mu-Oragon.” He agreed in almost a whisper. “Just… please be careful.” 

“T(Titus’ wellbeing is my priority.)” Even through the respirator their tone came out gleeful and reassuring. 

A couple days after, back at his chambers, Titus gasped and struggled to achieve the previous results he had experienced with the Magos. He was following the same movements and booklet’s instructions to the letter, his fingers were bigger and thicker than Mu’s; still the efforts left him wanting. He had made himself cum, and it had felt good, yes. But his relief was a cup with a hole at the bottom, never filling. 

Titus pressed his face against the drool covered pillow, recalling the memory from the examination room. Every time Mu had pressed their fingers inside him an asphyxiating wave of pleasure had drowned him over and over, his hairs stood with the remembrance of the Magos’ muffled exhalations due to the effort of manhandling such a heavier man. Another finger, he went deeper, a reminiscent thought of firm steel hands that had held his legs still; spread. 

Mu had played him like the director of an astropathic choir does his organ. Has Titus been the only astartes with a similar issue they’ve had to help? He bit the pillow hard enough to cause a rip, there was anger. The thought of Mu-Oragon giving similar care to someone else brewed an overflowing pot of jealousy and rage in him. But why? It was the Magos Biologis’ job to aid the Astartes, it was obvious there was no emotional attachment to the action. Despite the evidence he couldn’t stop the reassuring and borderline loving statements they had directed at him during the procedure to eat at his mind. How comfortable they had made him feel in his vulnerability, how in the time of their exchange he had silently craved for Mu to touch more of his body, to touch theirs. 

Titus sat in silence, frustrated tears sliding off his cheeks, a lone company in the otherwise relatively bare room. It was quite late at what the battle barge’s internal schedule had designated as ‘night time’, how much of a ‘night owl’ was the mechanicus? Was it proper to visit them? Were they busy? Were they saving another Astartes’ life? Were they soothing other Astartes’ post rubicon testosterone spike? Next thing Titus knew he was already dressed, one thought in mind. He should go to see them, by the primarch’s honor he had to see Mu. 

He moved with haste, weaving through the crowd of servitors engrossed in periodic station maintenance under the watchful vigilance of Mu’s brethren. No, they couldn’t compare to the Magos, none of them. Shit, why did he cram the stupid booklet and lube he was provided into his pocket? It was too late to return, his body would have not allowed him. 

Throne, those clothes were clean out of the dryer though they encountered themselves drenched with sweat. Titus’ walk to the desired wing was a blur, the fight between will and arousal occupied his focus in its entirety. Demetrian’s awareness returned to the front stage with his arrival at Mu’s laboratory, empty except for servitors. He pressed on past examination tables and towering shelves full of implements Titus had no idea of purpose, he didn’t need to anyways, he already had one. 

“Mu…” he mouthed at a sound belonging to what could be Mu’s binharic speech. 

The series of rhythmic computation sounds came out of a nearby room, the door almost fully closed. From the narrow opening left, aside from the overpowering smell proper of incense and machine oil, he could make sense that it was a private chamber.

There they were, sitting crosslegged on the floor, bathed in candle glow making their augments look like consecrated gold. Mu was perpendicular from the door, immersed in sacred meditation. In front of them a towering representation of the machine god crowned the extensive cogitator it was embedded on. The Magos’ hood was down, exposing their side shaved head, what was left of their brown hair in the middle presented tightly tied in a low ponytail. Cables came out of ports and cogitators on the sides of their head, neck and under their robes, connecting them to the one they were praying to. Two of their hands were in a prayer position, the other two resting on their knees. The many mechadendrites seemed deactivated, filling a circle around Mu as they laid over the carpet, like the resting wings of an angel. 

He had opened the door a bit more, taking one step inside yet regretting it instantly. It felt wrong, he was a trespasser, disturbing a sacred intimate rite he didn’t belong at. Titus tried to turn back but a mechadendrite stood to life, clasping hand pointed at the marine as if it could see him. Mu’s eyes opened accompanied by a quick inhalation, reminding him of someone waking up from deep sleep. 

“Unit Demetrian Titus…” surprise took over the Magos whose mechadendrites waved around them covering them until they could pull their hood back up. “Urgent assistance = true?” 

The door rattled slightly as Titus’ hand trembled. Was he feeling fear? The feeling he was made immune of? Mu tilted their head, emitting a series of concerned clicks. They patted a space on the rug beside them, limbs pulling aside to make space for Titus. 

“Permissions granted; accompany this unit. ⇔ desired so.” 

He entered further, making sure that the door was closed behind him. The intensity of the incense only increased with his approach. Titus gave the machine god’s image a look, its aura swallowed him, he was allowed into the room but that didn’t mean he was welcomed, that it welcomed him. 

“Detecting elevated blood pressure, presence of hyperhidrosis. Inference: condition disturbed.” They pointed out when he sat, the rest of their limbs focused on respectfully disconnecting the cables that joined Mu to the room’s cogitator. “Request: details needed.”

“Magos I… I have been doing everything as told.” The words were hard to come up with, this was a bad idea, he wanted to run. “Please, believe me.” 

“Complicance.” they said in what could have been a sigh. “Hormoral reading required. !(time) for a blood scan, +++urgency.” With their words they took the disconnected end of one of the cables still attached to them. “Expedited read | (direct connection = true)” 

A mechanendrite exposed the port at his nape. Even taking into account that the Magos’ intentions were clear and the connection into the ports around his body was a day to day affair; he couldn’t but instinctively want to lean away from the attempt. At least while conscious he had only been connected to external machines and his armor, making Titus and it become one. He was unsure of what linking to another conscious creature would be like. 

“Mu wait… ah…” 

He gasped at the connector’s insertion, a cold wave washed over him. Then, pressure. An extra force needed to be applied for the linkage’s proper attachment. Titus flinched when the plug was inserted to full length and secured. It has never felt this way, the imperceptive clicking shouldn’t be that all consuming, the effortless pressure shouldn’t send a shivering echo across his whole nervous system. The next breath came from lungs outside of his chest cavity. Parallel thoughts stood by his own. Connection state: stable. +++(blood oxygenation). Execute t01101000… wait what? 

“Requests: stand still for reading.” Mu pleaded, their voice sounding closer than the separation between them suggested. “Current testosterone levels = previous reading. Insulin levels within Astartes range = true. Leptin levels within Astartes range =  true. HGH levels within Astartes range = true…” they paused, Titus couldn’t see Mu’s throat but felt it on his own as it moved in a swallow. “+++(Oxytoxin levels)” 

A mechadendrite slid its rigged tentacle down his back coming into a wrap around the waist. The Magos glared at it with burning disapproval hasting the limb to release him. Unbecoming = true.

“What is that? Is it wrong?” Titus asked, a pressing heat that wasn’t the one already overwhelming him joined the room. 

“Oxytoxin = {social bonding hormone, love hormone, reproduction…}” 

The command for Mu’s arm to disconnect from him was clear, Titus’ enhanced reflexes were faster, applying pressure on the Magos’ hand before it could pull the connector out. A heart that wasn’t his drummed frantically. P(mutual) = 80%. Could it be that they have also been feeling something similar? P(mutual) = 88%. For how long? P(mutual) = 90%...

Titus leaned forwards pressing his lips on Mu’s cheek right when it met with the respirator, the skin was so soft, their smell like the rest of the room = {iron, candle wax, incense, sweat}. Mu’s arms resisted the approach but the many mechadendrites welcomed him, they acted upon their master’s subconscious wishes. 

“+++(levels) = {oxytocin, adrenaline, dopamine, vasopressin}.” They reported faintly. “Warning: Unit Titus breaching patient-magos protocol.”

“Are those hormonal readings yours or mine?” He asked with a tinge of humor, yet letting the wanting show. 

“Irrelevant.” The Magos chirped with higher pitch than normal before more mechadendrites started rubbing themselves around Titus like purring cats, then stopping when Mu directed a stern echoing mental order. 

“How long?” he asked, pressing his body against those appendages, begging for their touch. 

“Comprehension | (Unit Titus’ attention = true)” Oragon’s voice barely rose over the rushed clicking of their cogitators. “P(rubicon primaris success | healthy Astartes) = 61.6%. E(rubicon primaris success | medically dead Astartes) = ∅.” Was it a memory that flashed before him? Anger, defiance, approval, tension, relief. “Demetrian Titus: Omnissiah’s miracle. T(Demetrian Titus is my biggest pride).” Mu pressed their forehead against his. “T(Demetrian Titus is this unit’s most beautiful creation). Possessive desire = true.” 

He tried to get even closer, mind screaming to the magos’ to take him theirs as their right was. A slight passing migraine struck him, pushback. 

“I want ∈ Titus. I want Titus ∈ me.” 

They paused, a constant stream of data rushed from them to Titus. Failure = true. Unfaithful = true. Weak = true. Heretek = true. Heretek = true. Heretek = true. Heretek = true.  Heretek = true. Heretek = true. Heretek = true. 01001000 01100101 01110010 01100101 01110100 01100101 01101011 00100000 00111101 00100000 01110100 01110010 01110101 01100101. 01001000 01100101 01110010 01100101 01110100 01100101 01101011 00100000 00111101 00100000 01110100 01110010 01110101 01100101 01001000 01100101 01110010 01100101 01110100 01100101 01101011 00100000 00111101 00100000 01110100 01110010 01110101 01100101.

“I’m here Mu, make me yours.” Titus purred, pressing his face on the Magos’ neck, their scent ordering his body into a surrender. +++(serotonin levels). 

“I want to execute statement compliance. Intervention. This unit !(execute) statement compliance. Mu !∈ Titus. Titus !∈ Mu. Mu ∈ The Omnissiah. Titus ∈ The Emperor.” With the great effort of several limbs they were capable of pushing Titus away, his whimper had a twin companion. “ F[P(I ∈ (Omnissiah & Titus) & Titus ∈ (Me & Emperor)) > 0]. Titus’ understanding = true?” 

“Mu, being with you will not make me stop fighting for the Emperor nor will distance you from the Machine God.” Unit Titus’ statement = True. “It will only make me fight harder, to fight for the Emperor is to fight for humanity, you are part of humanity, you are part of what I fight for; what I will die for.” 

Two of the Magos’ hands cradled his face, thumbs rubbing his cheeks, their eyes gifted him a loving painting colored in sorrow ahead of closing them tightly. Mu’s bodily cogitators’ clicking became louder, similar to a tired engine pushing itself up a difficult hill. Every single one of the mechanicus’ limbs trembled and rattled. Titus felt a piercing pain forming behind a skull that wasn’t his own. 

“Magos stop that! You are hurting yourse…” 

“I would hurt myself everyday if it means I do not hurt you Titus.” The lack of machine logic in Mu-Oragon’s statement caught him by surprise, that’s what they were doing, they were ending any process that would distort the message. To the extent of their modification, it hurt. “Attention  =... Listen to me closely please. What’s in your mind, what’s in my mind; it is a chimera Titus. Fantasy. !(logical).” continued as their registry jumped between two conflicting voice modulations. “I will never be able to fulfill your requirements for intimacy. Demand: compliance with silence = true… I am inside your head right now. You have expectations and desires that I cannot match.” Mu opened their eyes, they looked watery and puffy. The clicking sound became more urgent, the cogitators were screaming for it to end. “Body parts you crave that Mu… I…  do not possess. Blessed Cogitators Titus, look how hard it is for me to express myself in your language, do you think a relationship will work? T(I have no place in your world).” 

The hastened clicking relaxed, lungs that weren’t his struggled for air. Mu gave in and placed their forehead on Titus’ chest. Heretek = true. Heretek = true. Heretek = true. Heretek = true.  Heretek = true. Heretek = true. They purred in the comfort they shouldn’t allow themselves to have. Heretek = true. Heretek = true. Heretek = true. Heretek = true.  Heretek = true. Heretek = true. They were surrounded by strong arms whose warmth they had no business craving. Heretek = true. Heretek = true. Heretek = true. Heretek = true.  Heretek = true. Heretek = true. Their face, implants included, being covered in kisses that had a better use on someone else. Yet they didn’t want someone else to have. Heretek = true. Heretek = true. Heretek = true. Heretek = true.  Heretek = true. Heretek = true.

“You are no heretek” Titus spoke clearly, his voice making a body that wasn’t his own yet felt like it; to tremble. “I never asked you to change for me. I will not allow you to change for me. Whatever you bring to me will make me happy, because it’s yours.” 

“Counterargument. Titus feeling this way | (+++testosterone & +++oxytocin). (Hormonal stabilization = true) => Titus !(love) Mu. E(Desire = {∅}).” 

“Theorerical: the result of your reasoning is false. Practical: you are in my head, you must only look.” 

“Compliance.” 

There was an invasive tingle poking at his brain, searching, inquiring. They shared a long moment of silence, lullabied by cogitators and Mu’s binharic musings. It felt strangely intimate, not the idea he had in mind when he came out of his room desperate to have the Priest inside him. Yet he still ached for it. 

Mu looked up to him. Pulling their hood down then guiding Titus hands on how to properly hold their face without disturbing the cablework. Throne, they were so strangely beautiful. 

“This unit’s compliance: approval pending.” They said, “This unit’s compliance ⇔ (Titus’ trust = true & Titus’ consent = true).” 

“You pulled my body apart and back Magos, do you really need more trust?” 

“Mu-Oragon !(had) Titus’ consent for rubicon. Patient previous state = unconscious. Unconsciousness !(match) consent protocol. Repeating inquiry: Titus’ Trust = True?” 

“Yes Mu I trust you.” 

“Titus’ statement = true?” The Magos pressed. 

“With my life, Mu please just… ah…”

Another cable made its insertion into Titus, now at a port on his lower back. His vision blurred for a second after the push that made the connection click, he felt himself holding Mu’s face and Mu’s face being held by his hands. A series of satisfied binharic purrs came out of him… the Magos. A touch, a gentle hand caressing behind his earlobe and going down the jawline made him moan quite loud. Titus tightened his lips afterwards full of confusion and shame. Mu chuckled behind the respirator. 

“Proud remark: Any mortal knowledge of Titus’ body < this unit’s knowledge of Titus’ body.” Both him and them gasped in unison with the many limbs holding him in place. “Proceeding with statement validation.” 

Fingers brushed his hair back in a soothing motion, just like they did that day at the examination room to calm his nerves. 

“Retrieving previously used data; Titus = {good, strong, capable, beautiful}.” 

With every word a new limb joined the embrace. Hands, ribbed tentacles, mechadendrite claspers; they all rubbed and massaged Titus’ body over his clothes. Pleasurable yet with the Magos’ teasing, no contact was made with any greater erogenous zone. The Marine played against the scheme, moving himself in a way Mu would at least grace the most vocal centers about their hunger, the mechanicus fought back trying to anticipate Titus’ moves and not let him have a win. They both were absorbed by childish chuckle and sporadic gasps. Mu’s binharic clicks were cheerful, jovial notes, light and dark compared with the ones from earlier. 

He placed his lips on Mu’s neck, also feeling them on his. And ran kisses over both flesh and blessed metal parts. They tensed a bit when he attempted to touch their chest, Titus sensed a third heart rate increasing followed by a mental note reassuring him it was fine. Without leaving carefulness behind he went down the Magos’ neck, wrapping, what the jealous tentacle allowed, of an arm behind Mu’s thighs lifting their body enough for him not bend on a weird angle to keep kissing down, his lips making out of fleshy and non biological parts under the robe.

That was when the mechadendrites started to infiltrate the openings on his clothes and slide under. The metal was no longer cold as it had been warmed up by Titus’ own body heat. Had that been the Magos’ plan? 

They both moaned at the sensation of ribbed well oiled tentacles rubbing themselves against Titus’ nipples, lower abdomen and inner thighs. The Marine was sitting on his knees, holding Mu with one arm and kissing their upper robed body, the other hand kept making sense of the shapes hidden by red cloth. 

Anchoring themselves firmly on Titus’ shoulders with two of their arms, Mu used the leftover free hands to undo the ribbons, clasps and buttons keeping the robe on. They stopped, only them letting go would uncover their body. He eyed them expectantly, noticing how shades of pink bloomed on what could be seen on their cheeks. 

“Witness the miracle of machine and flesh ⇔ (Units > initiates). Exception logged: Demetrian Titus.” Their voice sounded even more distorted than usual, nervous binharic chirps made interference with their words. 

“You don’t need to undress more if you are not comfortable, Mu.” Titus indicated lovingly as he massaged one of their shoulders. 

The grill covering Mu’s mouth didn't impede him from noticing they were smiling, the expression brightening their whole face. Adoring notes in binharic were said yet nothing in a manner Titus could understand, but he thought how it reminded him about how their prayers sounded like. With ritual reverence they let the cloth go, causing the scarlet to part and barely hang off their shoulders. He felt Mu shiver as that skin didn’t seem used to being uncovered, it was paler than their face and very thin, so much he felt afraid of his calloused palms breaking it open. Said skin was bitten into by metal, flexible pipes and transparent wiring transporting blood. Just as they did with their head Mu guided Titus’ hands across their upper body, reaching the pant's edge, a scar continuing down into the pubis was seducing him to follow it underneath. He would have if he hadn’t  noticed how in certain places clusters of purple broke paleness’ ruling, matching where he may have innocently grabbed or kissed too excitedly.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware you were that sensible.” 

Titus got his mouth close enough to a bruise yet stopped leaving the lips hovering over it, only his breath making contact. He looked up to meet Mu’s gaze, a request for permission written on his. They tightened any grip on Titus leading to a shift of their weight forwards, pressing themselves against his lips. This time he could appreciate how the binharic purrs and notes actually started somewhere between their ribs and echoed towards the grilled respirator in their face to finish being properly enunciated. The pale layer vibrated and contracted with every joint moan, gasp, huff. 

Mu took hold of another cable connected to them that had an orphan end with no port to call home. Instead of going for it right away they let the cord slide over Titus’ chest, going behind him by the left side of his neck and coming out from the right. The cables had a different texture from the appendages holding the mechadendrites, he enjoyed the contrast between stiff ribbedness and flexible softness. The port on the right side of his neck, by the joining with the shoulder, seemed to be the desired spot. The very moment the plug’s tip was to get inserted into it; Titus moved minimally away with a mischievous grin. Playfulness was older than machines, Mu wasn’t the only one with teasing rights.   

Both continued the jolly game for a couple minutes; shifting, giggling. By the end, it seemed Titus would finally accept the insertion only for the marine to get Mu’s hand holding the cable with a light-hearted bite, not exerting a tinge of actual pressure. The Magos hummed then all together, their mechadendrites compressed his body right over spots he would feel their sting the most, the appendages close to his thighs pulled them firmly; forcing him to a more open and exposed sitting position. At the same time, Mu’s free hand seized as much as Titus’ hair it could and yanked his head back with surprising command; displaying the working area. All of it teared out a pained moan out his core. 

“Delivering request for stillness.” They said, the teasing switched its tone from light-hearted into a lascivious one. “Patient Demetrian Titus !(compliance) => Execute: unit’s protocol for unruly patient subjugation. Titus != {bad patient}. (Titus = {Good patient}) = True?” 

“Apologies Magos, I do want to be a good patient, please show me how.” 

“Compliance.” 

His heightened sensitivity perceived the contact between port and connector in ways words could barely describe. When the tip of the connector touched the outer ring, for half a second he could swear that the candles and lumens seemed to brighten then dull back to their normal luminosity. The friction of smooth metal against smooth metal from the middle of the insertion sparked ripples in his brain that reminded Titus just like a vox signal trying to connect. A final push brought the connection to properly click inside, if before it rippled across the nervous system; now there was no system left unassaulted by a powerful spasm.

Demetrian Titus went blank, only remembering short snippets drunk in this unadulterated euphoria, perception shifting quickly between bodies. Once his faculties adapted to the input stream he discovered himself in the same position but things had changed a little. Titus’ top was gone and his pants were down to the knees. Coagulated crimson lines decorated him all over, evidence from scratches his healing factor closed immediately. The marine was rocking his hips at the rhythm of one of the mechadendrites crossing between his legs, rubbing its oiled shaft over the crotch and between the buttocks. He was still holding onto Mu, quite closely. The Magos’ thighs were at both sides of his neck, Demetrian finding his teeth pulling at their pants’ waist band. Two of their hands were finding support from Titus' biceps, the other two grasping at the marine’s hair for dear life; robe barely hanging by their elbows. He saw no reason to stop it there. 

Firmly holding Mu’s waist with one hand he lifted them up a bit, then using the other to grip the waistband at the back Titus slid their pants down, pulling them fully away. His lips' curiosity could finally scout the track indicated by that scar on their lower stomach. His kisses, the wetness of his tongue, the texture of his shaved cheeks; all sensations were mirrored back onto his skin. Then he made an interesting discovery, when he began charting what was left or lacked on Mu’s crotch it also reflected on his cock with curious representations. A  lick on the front was actually felt at the base of his shaft, yet going and kissing a bit to the right from there was experience at the top of his glans. Mu’s moans were his moans, deep, hungry. Their connection was a cyclical loop of pleasure, what was felt on them echoed onto Titus then back into them. He wondered if the mechanicus was capable of feeling arousal from stimulation on that area without a two way connection. Maybe he could try to investigate in the future, as the now had Titus quite busy. 

Mu moved the anchor points from Titus’ biceps to his hands, a metallic finger pried his mouth wide open making sure the tongue was fully out, then lifting themselves up they started to fully ride the Astartes’ mouth at the same rhythm the mechadendrite grinded its length between Titus’ legs. Their speech reduced to huffs and frantic binharic notes weaving the tunes of their shared pleasure. Titus almost dropped Mu when both of them were run over on climax’s path. Trembling prosthetic legs’ embrace became stronger, pressing him firmly on his face, a mortal with not as good breathing capacity would have likely perished out of air. 

They shifted their weight around Titus to climb off his shoulders, sitting on one arm holding them, they pressed their face onto Titus’. That was when he perceived the respirator being slid down, thin soft lips and skin like the one on their other covered areas nuzzled him. Lungs that weren’t his momentarily ached as they readapted to unfiltered air. Mu’s kiss was shy, sloppy, and inexperienced. Their knowledge of other people’s bodies didn’t transfer well to the skill of kissing, it was fine, not like Titus had much either. They could learn together. 

He pulled back from the kiss, not for lack of wanting but the realization he could finally admire Mu’s full face. It was round with big cheeks that were artificially parted with a depression between the cheekbone and cheek caused by the long respirator use. 

“Isn’t it dangerous to take it off?” He asked quite concerned. 

“!(Every unit).” their unaltered voice was more melodious than when muffled behind the respirator. “Mu-Oragon = {sacred binharic, chemical filtration}. Lung condition: stable. !(Risk)” They kissed him again then moved down his neck, he had forgotten, now they were connected Titus’ unquenching lust was also theirs. “Request: taste Titus.” 

“You know the answer.” he smiled back. 

Hums kept emanating from the respirator but without Mu’s mouth to guide them there was no binharic aria, just airy vibrations. He was fine without the tunes, that mouth looked beautiful with their fleshy lips crowning his nipple, disappearing into the bountiful hairy mass of his chest. Cold, a hand stroked up and down his shaft being unable to fully wrap its fingers around it. And Mu’s mouth, it was already small, yet his cock made it look even smaller by comparison, it made the whole Magos smaller by comparison. 

They licked the leftover cum around the tip and down the shaft, maybe now discovering the taste he’ll have an enlightening comeback when Chairon jokingly tells him to go eat his own dick again. 

Titus buckled and moaned not by stimulation itself but a memory, one of Mu’s hands was running its fingers in circles around the entrance to Titus’ backside. They were slippery, quite well lubricated in fact. 

“Titus = {so good patient, follows prescription well}.” Mu teased him. 

A grasping mechadendrite lifted up, holding the opened lube bottle he had stuffed inside his pocket before. Mu’s fingers barely peeked at the entrance, stretching the aroused fleshy ring. 

“Titus’ memories: seen. This Unit's touch: requested. Compliance.”

They slipped inside with the same effortless precision as before, the joy of getting filled as he had been craving was unmeasurable. Titus grabbed Mu’s head and trusted his cock inside the Magos’ mouth, barely getting a third in. In vengeance they got another finger into him, he wailed at the stretch and pressure curling inside him. If before Mu played him like an instrument, the current Titus was the whole orchestra, from groans to wines they composed a melody out of the Astartes’ desire. 

The rhythm became even faster, building a time bomb of pleasure inside his crotch. Drool and precum dripped down Mu’s chin, Emperor, Omnissiah, whoever was responsible: what a beautiful creature they were. Lustful indulgence was ramping up into a crescendo, Titus was getting close to relief he wanted to cry; and he did once Oragon stopped right at the plunge’s edge, denying him. 

Titus was about to ask why when they held his buttcheeks open for the lubed thin rounded head of a grasping mechadendrite pressed into him.

“Wait!” He howled. 

“Titus trust = true.” They whispered hugging the Astartes between their arms, and his cock between their thighs. 

Bastard, they had made it so aiding his throwing member would mean thrusting back and sodomizing himself into them. He had no choice and soon realized how Mu didn’t oversell themselves when they said they knew Titus’ body best, his hole was so well prepared it took the claw and following tentacle quite well. The stretch was so much yet it didn’t feel painful, Golden Throne, it felt like something he didn’t know he wanted but now will never be able to live without. 

Now the mouths of both of them were free he could appreciate how much of a mirror they had become, Titus was the baritone to Mu’s tenor-soprano, singing the same song in parallel harmonies. It was so much, he began bending over until he had the Magos pinned on the floor under him as he thrusted between their thighs, and the Magos had him entangled in many arms and cables as they stretched his insides. 

Titus had been shivering when he approached the same edge of the cliff as before, it being at a higher distance from the ground compared to the last. The Astartes felt as if the fall was going to make him blackout again, Mu had given him so many gifts, brought back to life and now another way to perceive life through the skin of the one he cherished, their skin. 

The timer on the time bomb in his crotch reached zero, a wave of pleasure after the other washed over him, he suddenly became aware of every pore in their skins, every hair on their heads. But it kept on, every single one of Mu’s appendages grabbed onto Titus as if letting go would cost them their life. He squirmed as his asshole didn’t see mercy nor rest, words were not able to be had with a throat so busy on pained moans. 

Wait, did he have so many cables inserted? Titus finally became aware that more than three ports on his body were in use, when did it happen? When he went blank? Realization dawned on him: he was trapped. All this time he had been a careless fly dancing around the spider’s net, every step entangling him more and more until he was fully helpless, ready to be consumed. The moans transformed into howls, those became wails, wails into whimpers, whimpering devolved into sobbing, culminating in the drained gasps of a fuck hole that knows its place. His mind gave up to the pleasure finally breaking and going  blank. 

He woke to the smell of incense and the realization of being so literally empty, laying on his side with Mu facing him. Mechadendrites and cables were still holding him, not with hunger but care. 

“I guess I ruined your rug.” He joked. 

“!(underestimate) martian chemical cleaner.” The Magos smiled sleepily at him, they hadn’t put the respirator back on yet, purplish red bite marks and bruising dressed their lips and lower jaw, Titus rubbed a finger over those. 

“My doing again I suppose, guess even my bare minimum of gentleness is still too rough. I’m sorry Mu, I didn’t want to hurt you.” 

“Reasurance. Preemptive awareness = True. Exchange | risk assessed. Titus design = {Strong, powerful, deadly}. (System’s status: fully operational) => no need to disable recurrence of interactions.” they said, soothing his worries. 

Mu’s voice returned to the metallic distortion as they put the respirator back on, gentle binharic hum seemed to communicate the Magos’ bliss on that moment more than any words they nor Titus could spare. 

Then the song changed to a familiar prayer, Mu started to go over the cables connecting them to Titus in reverse, from the last to be connected to the first. Before each of the disconnections the prayers sang a layered stanza Titus attributed meaning due to the tune; gratitude, mourning, hope. One by one he saw himself dividing from Mu’s senses, his mind grasping at any pieces left of that consciousness which melted into his, a cry of loneliness as what as one was became two separate beings again. He didn’t feel gloom though, as the prayer implied, separation only meant a new opportunity to meet again. 

“Wait a moment.” Titus interrupted when Mu-Oragon got to the final plug that was the first, the one at his nape. 

“Attention = True. Unit Titus wellbeing: stable?” They asked with the leftover sleepiness of someone coming out of a deep trance. 

“Titus ∈ to Mu, and = true - and that will always be true.” He spoke slowly, doing his best to speak on their lingo, knowing they may be doing a horrible job with laughable pronunciation. “Do Mu ∈ to Titus - this is a question.” 

At least his hope of not saying anything offensive by accident was reassured. The mechanicus’ face became as red as the clean parts of the rug they were laying over, nervous binharic notes escaped them like an open faucet. 

“Theoretical” they started, earning an instant chuckle from Titus. “Mu ∈ Titus. Practical: T(Mu ∈ Titus).” 

Just as it all started Titus kissed them on the cheek, right over where the skin met the respirator. Weird, Mu was rubbing the back of his neck, plug gone yet he didn’t feel a disconnection. Maybe the Omnissiah had finally made up their mind about him.

[cantdanceflynn]

Riddle School Secret Exchange

From @riddletransfers exchange, a gift of writing for @itissadbutitsmy-life! Im sry, I was gonna have art to go along with it and i dont think its rly up to my standards life just kicks u in the ass yk? (warning for mentions of panic attacks, trauma, and implied canon complient police brutality(I based it off of my shit school so i hope this isn't like, pushing too far))

It always came back to school, didn't it. If Phil had the option, he would have asked his parents to be homeschooled the day after Quiz died.

But no one else could've either, and somehow, he didn't think it'd help to still have those memories and be isolated from his friends to boot.

Days like these though... Slumping over a desk hoping he could remember anything made him wonder if it would've been better. At least he could've used the same resources as the teachers.

He didn't know anyone in this class, so chances of him borrowing notes was admittedly slim. The class itself, chemistry, wasn't hard in and of itself. Mostly he just copied people's answers to labs and tried to remember enough for the tests. But the teacher requiring constant notes was a pain in the ass, to say the least.

But even if chemistry sucked, and did it ever, Phil could appreciate it for one thing. He could spend this whole class excited for the next one, every day, for forever.

Not that he was particularly excited to do math worksheets for an hour and a half, no. He was excited because it was the only class he had with all of his friends this year.

And to top it all off, the teacher didn't seem to give a shit about what happened as long as the work got done. The only thing they'd ever been told not to do was roast marshmallows over Zach's head, and that was because they set off the fire alarm. She probably wouldn't even notice if they did it again.

Thick as thieves was putting it lightly, and it was probably the only reason Phil understood why teachers assigned group projects themselves instead of letting people chat all class. So maybe chemistry felt like forever, but right afterwards he could chill with his friends and talk about their days and help each other out.

That last one happened more often than not lately. For some inane reason, their school had an extra cop assigned to it. Because kids needed to watch out for more dangerous people, obviously.

It probably wouldn't even have made them worry so much if the bastard didn't decide to wear shades and pretend he was an FBI agent or whatever he wanted to be. They'd seen the real deal and this wasn't it, but it looked close enough to freak them out.

Phred was actually the first one to break last week, hyperventilating into his hands before Smiley ran out to get a paper bag. Phil still didn't know all that had happened, but the cop presumably decided the kid was suspicious for being nervous around him, as if anyone didn't understand why.

A bunch of stutters and sobs and rants later, there were four submitted worksheets, two with Smiley's handwriting, and they had implicit permission to walk Phred down to the councilors office. They stayed there for the rest of the day, helping him work through memories anybody who wasn't present wouldn't believe if their life depended on it.

This kind of thing wasn't uncommon, even before more and more triggers started popping up. Phil still didn't know if triggers was the right word for it, but the probability of finding a therapist that believed any of them was slim to none, so he figured it didn't really matter.

Sure, he could dwell on everything that had happened all he wanted. Wonder what the hell had happened on the government side of things, if they were spared or if they just didn't bother tracking them down, or if something else happened. Either way it would be his fault.

Really, it was all his fault. It overwhelmed him sometimes, with the constant reminder that every panic attack and flinch was his fault. Like the story he didn't really read for English or whatever, with the heart the lady could always hear or feel beating.

But his guilt dragged theirs down, much as the pressure of the tiled hallways. Maybe he should be a poet. He'd have plenty of out there material, that's for sure.

Class bell autopilot must've kicked in, because Phil didn't even realize he was sitting in his usual seat until Phred tapped him on the shoulder.

"Yup, we're dealing with a zombie here," he announced in a deadpan voice. "Someone take him to the nurse and let's see if cough drops can bring back the dead."

"Hey!" Smiley punched Phred's shoulder, but she was grinning and so was Zach. Phil loved to "admit" it, their smiles were infectious.

"Eh, there we go." Zach flicked his face and raised an eyebrow in humor when Phil flinched. The humor was quickly replaced by sputtered indignancies as Phil covered his face with a hand.

"That's what you ge-!" Phil's retort was stopped by Zach licking his hand, giggling as Phil shook said hand desperately. "Grosssss....."

Smiley laughed. "Hey, you spoke! Took long enough." Her light hearted teasing was only punctuated by how she was practically plowing through her worksheets. She got given them all at once at this point, her boundless enthusiasm adding to the notes the teachers inevitably had for her.

Like all of them, she was far from a joy to have in class. Constantly correcting the teacher came at a cost, as it turned out. But unlike the rest of them, she could at least do her work nigh perfectly.

"Still can't convince you to do my work?" Phil jokingly questioned.

"Nope! Gotta earn it, silly!" She hummed back as she worked, scribbling down a correction on the teacher's formatting with a disapproving click of her tongue.

Phred rolled his eyes, but he actually started before the rest of them. So much for ambitionless, Phil supposed. He wasn't heading for top of the class or anything, but he had motivation now. Weird as it felt to him, him of all people, there was a twinge of pride in Phil's chest.

He stuck his tongue back out Zach before starting his work. Zach huffed and started too. As the sound of pencils scribbling filled their corner, one thought filled Phil's head.

He was so, so lucky to be in a real, oppressing as it might be, school, with them all, this time.

sry again if this isn't very goodddd

[alchiimia]

@experimentalfma

Rocket.

A vehicle that uses jet propulsion to accelerate without using the surrounding air. 

It was ironic, maybe even a bit laughable, that someone who'd seen chimeras, giant walking statues, stones in the color of blood made from human souls... that it was something as common as this throwing Edward's mind into shock and awe. Or, well - common in this world, anyway. A world not bond to the law of equivalent exchange, a world where Science reigned supreme and Alchemy was lost to the dark medieval times. His world, now. For the good and for the bad.

But, yes, rockets. Damn interesting things. Ed was by far a man of chemistry, rather than physics and math, yet learning about these equations was entertaining nonetheless; he'd always loved learning new things. The little mountain of books currently piled up beside him spoke for itself. He'd been in the library all morning, reading and learning and indulging into the perfect escapism while ignoring everything else wrong in his life - hours passing by and barely moving, save for the turning of pages and the occasional shuffling into a slightly different sitting position. That was, until he actually ran out of books in the mini-mountain.

And that's when God saw fit to remind him that, even by the other side of the Gate, he was still accountable for his sins and must repent.

Because, of course - the one book Ed now really wanted was out of reach; peeking down at him from the very top of the shelf. Downright mocking him with its shiny cover and rich colors. Come and read me if you can, I'm so interesting!, Ed could practically hear the siren's call. And what was Edward Elric once Fullmetal Alchemist if not stubborn and resilient? Taking the chair he’d been sitting on, he brought it closer and climbed on top and - there! Problem solved. Or, almost... for, in the end, he did not grab the thing all the same. Suddenly distracted by the very characteristic sensation of being stared at.

"What? Never seen someone who can’t reach the top shelf?"

A short person, in other words, but it would take far more than being stuck in a foreign, alternate universe for Ed to admit it out loud. And, yes, maybe he was being grumpy. Maybe the stranger, whoever they were, didn't even mean to stare and was simply also searching for a book in that same shelf. Maybe it was just Ed's paranoia kicking in, because the past had taught him over and over again that being stared at usually implied having to prepare for a battle. Either way, when glancing over his shoulder with a scowl and ready to shoo the person away, what Edward found was-

...A ghost.

Past and future mashed together, and no single explanation given. 

His gold-colored eyes widened and suddenly it was Ed staring, staring hard and helplessly, color draining from his features and every ounce of strength momentarily leaving his body.

"....Al...?" 

But could it be…? His beloved Alphonse, returned to flesh body and somehow here in this world…? give him back, he’s my little brother, he’s everything i have, you can even take my heart Ed's hand that had been left hanging absently found the book, then, but a different one and far heavier. And that, along with the discharge of entropy suddenly taking over his mind, the sudden screeching of his memories plunging all over again into that dreadful night, could really only have one outcome: Ed losing his balance and toppling right off the chair with a quiet gasp. And not only did he meet the library floor right on his butt and in a very undignified manner but, right after, that same volume came to drop on his head.

And, somewhere in the Gate, Truth was probably laughing hysterically.

[green-cargaytions]

poem explanation for "On Poetry as a Unifying Theory of Meaning"

okay so first the list of topics referenced or alluded to in this poem in order of appearance: poetry, religion, mathematics, astronomy, history, fiber arts, ink and paper making, writing, geology/mineralogy, chemistry, physics, string theory

the first stanza starts out “ABBA, father” immediately referencing common sonnet rhyme scheme and actually the one used in this very poem, as well as (I'm not sure how many different translations there are of this but) the part in whichever gospel where Jesus says the things like into your hands I commend my spirit and then dies. I don't know where or when exactly I remember it from but I do remember at some point hearing “abba, father” as part of that general section. it then lists sonnet stanza forms and likens them to math equations having something to do with astronomy, and then connects the nebulas and history by virtue of how complicated they are, likening that beauty to the beauty of hand dyed yarn. as well as that, hand dyed yarn can look very much like nebulas and there's another connection there. actually a lot of this poem can be boiled down to “oh isn't it beautiful and this is too”

the second stanza starts very similarly but subverting the traditional religious reference of the previous stanza by replacing father with mother, and then focuses more on the emotional side of poetry rather than the technical side as previously discussed. the second line refers to the common desire of poets to have their work remain beyond their death, and then to the color of parchment and faded ink. scintillas isn't really the greatest fit definition-wise but it was the best that rhymed. it means like sparks, metaphorically of insight or else that can be gained from reading, and compared to lost jewels newly discovered (olivine is a green semi-precious stone).

and the last stanza takes the expectation that this is going to be a Shakespearen style sonnet of three quatrains and a couplet and refutes it because hey two types of sonnet for the price of one! it takes the religious connotations of the first two stanzas and digs in a bit more, this being the volta. it ponders writing as a method of worship to this poetry god in our own little imperfect ways, trying to reach perfection as a religion worshiping beauty in perfection of things such as math and science even though there will always be more. gonna be honest I don't know what words being ionized would mean but it sounded cool and fit the rhyme scheme. then finally we have string theory, one of the more direct nods to the book that inspired this poem, and back to the religious theme by implying that God is everywhere and you can draw your own conclusions as to the value of that, though I wrote it as positive.

WOWWW!!!!!! AUGH!!!!! i genuinely have no words this is sososososo cool and i love it when you explain your poetry to me!!!! /gen!!!! AUGH!!!! math and music and religion and weaving and science and the environment all crashing together like YES THATS WHAT ITS ALL ABOUT!!!

[hajimeiwaswife]

LOST IN TRANSLATION

Summary: When Peter Parker asks for your translation services he didn't expect to find love again.

Warnings: NWH SPOILERS, fluff.

Word count: 6,8K

Chinese translation by @1kafenova : https://fakenova.lofter.com/post/1cec36b5_2b456d4c3

A/N: Happy new year! I hope you guys had a great time and that you like my little present for the new year. Feedback is highly appreciated!

You've always been bad at maths, let alone science in general, it just wasn't appealing to you. But languages, literature, history, art, philosophy... You saw beauty in everything that implied humanities, that needed of interpretation, that wasn't exact, that could be moulded by the hands of a simple human or by a community of speakers. Maybe that was the reason why something as exact as maths was so difficult to understand for you.

Not only that, but you were unable to get why someone would choose science on their own will. That was Peter Parker, a man you had shared a couple of common subjects at high school when you were still teenagers. Such an intelligent and humble man, always with his camera in hand, a book of chemistry under his arm. And let's not forget, handsome. For some reason, your friends would repeat over and over again what a bad taste in men you had, how Peter wasn't part of the beauty canons. For you he was, not only that, but his quirky mannerisms and his awkwardness made him even more attractive, especially when he thought no one was looking at him and rode his skate with expertise.

That same little crush you had back then was coming back to you when he sat at the chair in front of your desk, doe brown eyes smiling with recognition when he gazed at you for the first time in years. He looked different, of course his physical appearance had turned to a manly one, a sharper jaw, rougher expression, a cute stubble, wider shoulders, the noticeable veins in his hands... His eyes. You could see it. Last time you had looked at them they were filled with grief, regret and pain; now, they looked more matured, as if he had healed, genuine will to live to his best, to be happy. What could have happened in those seven years you hadn't coincided with the other? You were curious, more than you should, but it was Peter Parker we were talking about, a mysterious man himself ever since high school.

However, his cover of older man with a hold on his life was broken the moment he started fidgeting, uncovering those same mannerisms you had observed so long ago. You smiled internally, there was a little bit of him inside still. You coughed when he looked up and caught you staring at him so intensely, earning a cocky grin from him, one that could be mistaken by innocence. You knew better, though.

"So, you want me to be the one to translate your new discovery." you affirmed after he finished explaining his commission.

"Yes, that's uh, that would sum it up." he replied, still fidgeting and a nervous grin on his face.

"Okay, deadline?"

"Oh! True, uh..." he bit his lip in thought, pushing his glasses into place once again "When... when do you think you can have it?"

"Let's see..." you looked over at the document in your screen, a seventy pages paper about things you didn't understand, it was going to be a difficult task, but not impossible "I can have it in three weeks, is it okay? Or do you need it sooner?"

Peter went back to his thoughts, a slight sigh scaping his mouth while his fingers touched his bottom lip. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke again "Three weeks it's fine." he affirmed, nodding mildly "Thank you."

"Don't thank me, it's my job!" you smiled while creating the quote "And how's life going?" you asked while adding the corresponding taxes to the bill. Thank lord calculators were a thing.

"Um, great! Actually great, it's been... calm? I would say." he was lying, his tone had betrayed him on 'calm', but who were you to call him out "What about you?"

"Normal," you replied sincerely "working, going out with friends, the usual."

Peter nodded, smiling. He observed around the office, many diplomas hanging from the walls, making him wonder why in school they never paid as much attention to humanities as they did to science. It was clear as water that you were the best on your field, he could even tell from the professionalism that surrounded your aura.

Meanwhile, you read the title of his paper. You didn't know what it meant, nor what it was about; however, you knew it was important and a very respectable discovery. It didn't take you by surprise, though, Peter had always been a genius.

"Well," you spoke again, taking the quote you just printed from the printer "as it is a scientific document, I should charge per word," you started explaining "but as I charge 0,07$ per word, it would be 2,450$." you said, still looking at the quote "However, as we are acquaintances and your paper has seventy pages, I'm going to do an exception here and charge it as a literary work, so it will be charge per page. That makes it 15$ per page, what leaves a total of 1,050$."

"Y/n, wait, you don't need to..."

"I know, but consider it a favour from an old school mate." you winked at him, passing him the quote "What do you think? Any complains?"

"No, of course not! You just... You just saved me 1,400$." he murmured, observing the piece of paper you just handed him.

"Okay then, so if you agree, I shall start my work." you smiled, seeing how grateful he looked.

"I promise I'll make it up to you, thank you so much, Y/n." he sounded serious, you knew he was, Peter Parker was a man of his word.

"A coffee sounds nice, but you should invite me in three weeks." you replied playfully, trying your luck on the handsome man.

"Deal." he smiled.

It was late, but you needed to invest extra hours in Peter's commission. You had three dictionaries opened and a couple of scientific magazines to look up for information you could need. Once you had everything you needed, you started reading the document with more care.

"The multiverse." you read the title, furrowing your brows. Had he discovered other universes? He said it was his new discovering, wasn't it?

You continued reading the paper, not understanding absolutely anything except for the parts where he claimed there were different versions of ourselves out there in a parallel universe. The explanation was probably among the technical language you were oblivious about, but at the end of the day, your job was to transmit perfectly what he said, so you translated it searching for parallel texts to see if what you were writing made sense.

It continued like that for the next two weeks and a half, where you ended completely exhausted. Again, you understood nothing, but you were curious about the scientific explanation of how he knew there were other Peter Parkers out there. Maybe you could ask him when he came to the revision of the translation and, if you were lucky, that private physics class could happen in a cafe. Would he be able to explain it for someone that knows nothing about physics? You hoped so.

The next few days were only about your own revision of the translation, trying to verify it was understandable... to whoever understood these matters. You were happy with your work and you expected for Peter to be happy about it, too. Scientific translations were difficult, so having managed a seventy pages translation about a physics discovery was something to be proud of.

You prepared everything: the format, the bill, the little gift for the client for asking for your services. Another day at the office, waiting for Peter Parker to come in at any second after 11 a.m. You continued working on other commissions, asking yourself if you got it wrong and you weren't meeting today. It wouldn't be the first day, thinking it to be Thursday and turning out to be Wednesday. He had asked for a physical copy apart from the digital one, and it was laying at your right, desperate for its owner to pick it up.

At 11:30 a.m. Peter Parker made an appearance, looking dishevelled, all sweaty and out of breath. He looked at you with guilt and lifted up a hand in symbol of asking for forgiveness while he recovered. You stood up, concerned, wondering what could had happened to him.

"I'-I'm sorry." he mumbled once his breathing evened out "I over... slept, yeah."

Lying again "It's okay," you answered with a kind smile "have a sit, please. There are a couple of things I want to discuss with you."

He did as tell, sitting in the same chair he did three weeks ago, his breathing still a little work up. You watched as a drop of sweat passed his temple and flowed down his cheek to his sharpened jaw. He was too attractive for his own good, biting his lip at the same time he took the printed document from your hands, fingers touching and lingering for a second.

He smiled slightly, a kind one, and opened the bind document even if he couldn't understand the language. He was impressed for the way you had improved the format, leaving it even more sophisticated and professional.

"It looks nice." he said, fingers passing through the margins.

"Thank you," you replied, returning his smile "and I assure you the translation is accurate and it will please its target."

"I don't doubt it."

"Though," you started again, intertwining your own fingers and putting your hands on the table "I have a few questions about... the multiverse."

Peter nodded, waiting for you to continue, eyebrows arched in curiosity and head slightly tilted to the right.

"I didn't understand the technical part, but for what I could get, your discovery says that there actually are parallel universes, with realities where there are some kind of... us? But that aren't ourselves... The more I hear myself the more I realize I haven't understood anything." you finished, head hung low and a sigh of exasperation coming out of your mouth.

"No, no! That's part of it, you were right!" Peter exclaimed, straightening in his sit and bending a little bit forward "There are people in other realities with our names and similar lives, but they aren't us."

"And... how have you discovered it? What's the explanation?"

The man chuckled, moved by your genuine curiosity and your doe eyes, looking at him the same way a kid looks at their parents when giving them the answer to their question. He considered how he would explain it to you, he couldn't tell you the exact truth, and definitely he needed to find a speech you could understand from your no scientific perspective.

He bit his lip again, thinking, while you stared at him waiting patiently for his reply. This discovery was going to be if not the most, one of the most important of the century, and you wanted to hear it explained from the genius himself.

"This is gonna take a while," started Peter, looking up at you with a side grin "so, maybe, we could go out and I could explain it to you, then."

You blinked once, twice, and then processed the information. The Peter Parker had just asked you out. He was offering you to hang out away from the working atmosphere, something a little bit more intimate. His fidgeting intensified when you didn't answer, observing how your face changed its expression from one of professional kindness, to confusion to, finally, embarrassed happiness.

"Yeah, yeah, I would love that." you nodded, smiling widely at the man in front of you.

"Great!" Peter nearly shouted, a blush forming on his cheeks "T-that's great, perfect, indeed. Uh, is it okay on Saturday afternoon?"

"Yes, perfect for me." you answered.

There was an awkward silence between you both, not knowing what to say next. You probably should ask him for his number, but at the same time it was needed to finish with the translation explanation.

Like that, somehow you redirected the conversation to translation doubts you had and how you resolved them, having him confirming that what you understood of those fragments was right. You also gave him the bill, sent him by email the digital format and gifted him the quill with your logo.

"Thank you so much, Y/n, I'm really happy I ran into you." he said while standing up, walking towards the door "Couldn't ask for a better translator." he smiled.

"It was my pleasure, I'm glad you considered me for this." you also stood up, accompanying him to the door and stopping him from exiting "Uh, I wanted to... well, as we are going out on Saturday maybe, it would be nice to..."

Peter thought it was amusing how you changed in demeanour when you were in your professional, hard-working translator you and when you were just... you. Shy and nervous, the same as him "... have my number?" he finished for you and you nodded, ashamed for being unable to ask for it yourself "Here."

Peter lent you a card with his name, number and email. You smiled, taking it and observing it a bit. Then, you bid goodbye and the both of you returned to your own business until Saturday.

When you arrived home and watched the news, they announced Spiderman had stopped two bank robberies that morning. 'He deserves a salary for this', you thought.

"So you found imprints of a collision between two universes!? That's so cool!" you exclaimed, hot coffee on the table and a very handsome scientist in front of you.

"Uh-hu," he affirmed, sipping his own coffee "we can say there are at least four imprints of four different universes, but there must be hundreds, if not millions of them."

It was Saturday and you both had agreed to meet at a cafe near your work place at 4 p.m. As promised, Peter explained his discovery to you in a way you could understand, finding fascinating his work and his ability with physics.

"You are amazing, Peter Parker." you mumbled, completely absorbed by his voice and explanation.

The man could feel his cheeks warming and the feeling of dejà vu in the front of his mind, one of the other Peters always told him those exact words, but hearing them from you was different. When the other Peter said them, it felt like he himself was assuring him, in this case, it was you, someone external to the adventures of the Parkers.

"It-It's nothing! Really, it was easy." he stuttered, wrinkling his nose.

"Don't be humble, Peter, you worked hard for this!"

He nodded, biting his lip again. You had noticed it was something he did whenever he needed to think for long, and you weren't going to lie, it was hot. He looked up and caught you staring at him again, the same sly grin he made in your office almost four weeks ago returning to his face.

"And now, thanks to you, my discovery will be accessible for a wider public." he grinned, wetting his lips and sipping on his coffee again. "And how is it you turned out to be a translator?"

You shrugged your shoulders "I love languages, I always did, and this degree allowed me to work with them and with literature, my two passions. Why?"

"Just curious." he also shrugged his shoulders "I must admit, it was clear you weren't going to pick a science degree."

"Oh?" you said, amused "And why were you so sure?"

"I had maths class with you."

You both chuckled, you hadn't been the best at the subject, and he probably had seen your failed attempts at improving on it. Pathetic ones, must be said.

"I remember that one time you were so convinced you had the exercise right and I told you you had missed a negative sign." the man laughed, adoring the embarrassed expression on your face.

"Ugh, don't remind me." you took a peek at him from in between your fingers, which were covering your face "Luckily, it wasn't mandatory on the last two years."

"And you still ask me how I was so sure." he snorted, gaining a fake slap to his bicep from your part.

Another moment of silence between you became present, but it wasn't awkward, reminding each other of high school wasn't as awful as it sounded, at the end of the day. You fidgeted and coughed a little, trying to find something to say.

"I was sure you would do something with science. What? I didn't know, but you looked like the most dedicated little molecule."

"Little molecule?" he snorted again, looking at you with amusement.

"That's how we called you guys!" you laughed, repositioning yourself on the chair "In humanities we would call you that."

"And I'm just hearing about this now? How lame." he shook his head, feigning indignation "Why little molecule? Why not just molecule?"

"It was cuter."

Both of you stood there for hours, talking and catching up. You couldn't remember when you had laughed that much and neither did he, appreciating the time he spent with you that afternoon.

"You live here?" he asked once you stopped in front of a building.

"Yep." he had offered to accompany you home "Do you want to come in?"

"Maybe another day, I have something to do now." he replied, smiling at you and talking sincerely, he wasn't lying this time "But we should repeat this. If you want to, of course! J-just if you want to."

"I'm on board." both of you bid goodnight after that. You relaxed at home, he put on his Spiderman suit.

These meetings continued for quite some time, getting to know each other more and to befriend. Peter was a great man, intelligent, funny, kind, a gentleman and a teaser, the type of man any person would like to have by their side. You wondered if he had been developing feelings for you the same way you did with him, daydreaming about an unlikely future where you were together.

Your daily commute was the same, exiting your house, walking for ten minutes and arriving to your office. It shouldn't be complicated, just a mere walk, the most interesting thing that could happen in New York should be the snow. But no, it wasn't snow what stopped you from arriving to your workplace; it was a villain.

A huge wolf like creature was rummaging in every building it saw, breaking windows, pushing citizens, smashing the road and the cars... Scared, you ran to where you thought you could be a little bit safer as the way to your workplace was completely destroyed and inaccessible.

Out of nowhere, a red and blue blur appeared swinging from building to building, approaching the villain and putting citizens to safety on the way. Spiderman had come to save the day, and you were grateful that maybe this nightmare could end as soon as possible.

'Really, I just want to make enough money to survive the month and I have to stand a fucking mad wolfman trying to kill us all.' you thought, done with life once again.

Ten minutes of battle, twenty, and it didn't look like it was going to end soon. You still stood in the place you had found a haven in, watching from afar how Spiderman fought the villain, swinging from side to side, throwing punches and webs to the wolf. On one moment, the villain was throwed flying to the roof of the building you were next to. You heard a little cracking, then, a huge shadow overcame you and, when you looked up, a giant advertisement poster was falling in your direction.

It was true what they said about seeing your life pass while you're waiting for death. You were still young and you were going to die because of a stupid poster, how pathetic. You closed your eyes, expecting the impact that would kill you in situ. But then, you heard a heart-breaking 'No!' and you felt a hand grab your waist and your feet leave the ground.

You opened your eyes, confused, and you met face to mask with Spiderman himself, who had saved you just before the poster could crash you to death. You clung to him tight, afraid of falling, even though you doubted he would let you fall.

He swinged you both to the roof of a building far from the battle, not letting go of you once you both touched the ground. You were trembling, processing the last two minutes of your life, and Spiderman was gentle enough to let you some time for it.

"Are you okay?" he asked in a soft voice, a familiar voice you couldn't quite pint point.

"Yeah, yes, thank you." you replied out of breath.

"Good." he let go of you, preparing to swing again to battle "Stay here, I promise I'll come to get you down from here when it's safe to do so."

And then it hit you, you knew that voice all too well.

"Peter?" you asked, eyes wide and mouth hang open.

"What?" the eyes of his suit widened too, and his tone expressed surprise "P-peter? Pff who is Peter? Definitely not me."

You blinked, shocked and eyebrows arched, it was Peter, no doubt about it. His dorky reply was everything you needed to confirm you suspicion.

"I know it's you, you're so bad at lying." the monotone you gave him made his body hair bristle and not because of his spidey-sense "So that's what you've been hiding. Ever since High School... That explains so much."

Peter was horrified, you had discovered his facade and there was no way he could convince you he wasn't Peter Parker. Years of being Spiderman without no one knowing apart from Gwen, and now you found out just because of his voice. He had to give you that, you were smart, really smart.

"I- Look, please, don't panic." he murmured as he took off his mask, revealing his face "Yes, I'm Spiderman, and I've been since the beginning."

"Holly shit." was the only thing you could mumble, still shocked at the information that sweet and dorky Peter Parker was, indeed, the strongest super hero of New York.

"I'll explain everything to you, I promise," he said as he put his mask on again and walked towards the end of the roof "but first let me take that villain out."

You just nodded, dumbfounded, as Peter Parker swinged to battle again and left you there to think about what happened. So he was Spiderman, and for what he said he also was Spiderman when you both were teenagers. So Gwen...

"Oh my God, poor Peter..." you mumbled, it pained you to think that he was there when his first girlfriend died, a very beautiful person she was, you remembered her from some classes, she had always been kind to you.

But then, you thought, that meant that the day you gave him his translation and arrived late he didn't oversleep as he said; he was the one to stop the two robberies! The poor man was living a double life, he didn't even have a peer to share the burden of taking care of the city with.

You were worried, watching him fighting against the wolfman, receiving scratches. But you had you have faith in him, he had been Spiderman for years and you had always admired the hero, so him being Peter Parker shouldn't change anything. But it did, you liked the man and the thought of him being at risk and in danger was driving you mad.

Ten minutes later, the red and blue suit appeared on your line of sight again, approaching you and landing in front of you. He took his mask off, a few scratches visible on his cheeks, a line of blood running down the corner of his mouth, but he still smiled kindly at you. His eyes closed and his teeth showed, giving him the appearance of a kid who had just committed the biggest mischief he could think of. You just shook your head and chuckled, looking at him with bright eyes and a bit of incredibility.

"Are you okay?" you asked, observing his little wounds.

"Yes, nothing I'm not used to by now." he replied, his smile still there "I owe you an explanation."

"I wouldn't say owe... But I do want one." you nodded, biting your bottom lip in amusement.

"Then come with me, it will be better to talk when I'm not dressed in tights and not bleeding." he joked, grabbing your waist and lifting you two in the air.

You wanted to scream, not out of fear, but out of adrenaline. Now that you weren't on the brick of death you took your time to gaze at the city below you, a sight worthy of a painting.

"And that's all." Peter said. You two had swinged to his apartment, where you had helped him with his wounds and he had told you about his double life in detail, omitting the universe travel he would do once in a while.

"Wow." was the only thing you could say, making him chuckle at you. He put his lips in a line and a small smile plastered, looking at you from below; he was breath-taking "Does anyone else know? What about your aunt May?"

"No! No, no one knows, especially not May." he exclaimed, fidgeting again when he heard his aunt's name "I prefer for her to be kept apart from this."

"So to not put her in danger?" you asked and he nodded.

"I wasn't actually gonna tell you just yet, it's very risky." he commented, passing his hands across his hair "But I guess there are no secrets now."

"It seems so. I'm sorry, for discovering you, I mean."

"It's not your fault being smarter than half the population that knows me and hadn't figured out yet."

"It's the mask." you affirmed, and he locked eyes with you, brow arched until you two exploded in laughter at your obvious claim.

"Thanks, never thought of it."

"You're welcome."

You helped him wash his suit while you chatted a little bit, you remembered seeing him on the news a couple days ago, commenting on his discovery.

"Do you know anything else about your discovery? Any news?"

"Actually, they have invited me to a panel in Brussels to talk about it, Europe has liked it a lot." he commented nonchalantly.

"Peter! That's awesome!" you exclaimed, turning to look at him fully "I'm really happy for you! You deserve it."

"Your translation helped a lot, not gonna lie." he said, smiling "Thank you again, they loved it and they are considering nominating me to the Nobel Prize in Physics."

"Oh my Lord, Peter! How long have you known about this?"

"A week." he shrugged, resting his shoulder on the wall while looking at you with a smirk.

"And you haven't told me! Parker, after you pick up the prize, I'm murdering you." you exclaimed, feigning indignation.

"That is, if I win it." Peter replied, biting his bottom lip, thinking about the possibilities of losing it.

"To whom? You literally discovered the multiverse! What could be better than that?"

"I don't know, maybe someone discovers a way to work out without tiring yourself." he shrugged his shoulders again.

"... Yeah, that would be better." he looked at you as if you had just stabbed him, mouth hanging open and betrayal plastered on his face.

"You little traitor..." he murmured, starting to chase after you while you laughed at him, running across the apartment with him just behind you.

You loved your time with Peter because of this type of situations, they were so organic, so natural, they just came with the flow of life, making you feel alive and happy. When he caught you, he hugged you from the back and lifted you, spinning you both around while laughing.

After begging, he put you down, assuring that your feet where on the ground and you were stabilized. You turned around, a wide smile on your face mimicking his, breathing irregular from both running and laughing, his chest going up and down fast, proving he was still catching his breath. He looked gorgeous, eyes bright and soft staring at yours directly. A slight blush prominent on his cheeks, his nose a little wrinkled.

That's when you noticed that his eyes were going from looking at your eyes to your lips and on repeat once and once again. You weren't going to lie, a kiss from him was what you had been wanting for a couple of weeks now, worried that he didn't feel the same about you.

When you noticed his breath on your lips was when you realized he had slightly closed the distance. You locked your gaze with his, eyes close halfway, pupils dilatated, looking at you as if you were the only thing he wanted in that exact moment.

Closing the distance, you took his upper lip between yours, starting the kiss. It was passionate, uncovering the non-spoken feelings both of you had developed. Your hands went to his neck, caressing the hair of his nape, while his hands grabbed your waist and pushed you closer to him. His tongue entered your mouth, taking the little breath you had left away, your mind dizzy and your nose filled of his perfume. Noses touching, lips and tongue showing the love you hadn't been able to talk about before.

When you separated, your foreheads touched, eyes still close and breathing completely uncontrolled. You took a moment to process the kiss, to feel his body against yours, to soak yourself in his being, wanting nothing more than open your eyes to look at him.

So you did, and the sight made your knees weak. He had, again, his eyes close halfway looking at you in the purest and softest way anyone had ever looked at you like, a little smirk in his lips, giving you a little peck.

"I guess this means you like me, too." whispered Peter, bumping his nose with yours.

"Absolutely." you answered, bringing his lips closer to yours to kiss him again.

Walking to the office had never been easy. Peter hadn't stayed the night, so you had woken up alone to another horrible Monday. But, today had been different, your apartment looked dissimilar, posters that should be there weren't, and ones you had never seen where hung in your walls. The distribution of the kitchen also was strange, and the sofa on your living room had a different colour.

You couldn't understand anything, there was no explanation for it, and when you walked outside everything seemed... odd. It wasn't easy to explain, but the atmosphere was bizarre, not the typical New York air you usually breath.

The stores you usually see on your way to work weren't there at all, now they had different names and sold the opposite of what they should. You furrowed your eyes, what could be happening?

Everything turned to dust when you arrived at your workplace. Where offices should be, now laid a cinema. You were confused, were you dreaming? Was this a massive joke no one had told you about? Were they recording a new film and this was the set?

You looked around, no one seemed faced by the changes you were noticing, continuing their lives as if nothing was wrong. You decided to walk around the walk and see if, indeed, it was a cinema set and your office was just behind. It wasn't. The Cinema building continued on, so there were no possibilities of your working place to be behind.

Maybe you were in the wrong part of the city, so you took your mobile phone and looked in Google Maps. You were in the correct place, though your building was, as it said, inexistent. What was happening?

You wandered around, trying to search for a familiar face, for a familiar place, but this wasn't the New York you knew.

It was then when you saw a red and blue suit swinging around. 'Peter!' you thought, following him as you could, trying to attract his attention. There was no use, he didn't see you, so you continued running and following him with your sight so you didn't lose him.

After touring the whole city until reaching Brooklyn, you stopped to catch your breath. Could Peter know what was happening? Maybe, but at least he was a familiar face and you would feel safe with him. You continued walking in search of your lover and saw him in the roof of a building.

"Spiderman!" you shouted, hoping for him to hear you "Spiderman!"

The man turned his head in your direction, getting off the roof immediately and approaching you. That was when you noticed his suit was also different, it looked very modern, as if it had technology in it. When did Peter change his suit?

But it was too late to keep thinking, as Spiderman was in front of you "Is everything okay, ma'am? Do you need my help?"

"Peter, thank God I have found you," you started, nearly panicking "my apartment looked different, the stores have changed, my workplace isn't there anymore and... even your suit looks out of place!"

"H-how do you know...?" Spiderman started, narrowing his eyes. You looked at him confused "How do you know my name?"

"What do you mean? We're dating..." then it hit you, his voice was different, not the deep voice of your Peter "Aren't you... Aren't you Peter Parker?"

"What?" the eyes of his suit widened, looking around to see who else was listening "How do you know my name? How do you know who I am? What do you mean we're dating?"

The man was attacking you with questions, leaving you dumbfounded and very confused, an anxiety attack growing in your chest. What was happening?

"So you're Peter Parker..." you claimed, and he just looked at you "But you don't sound like him."

Peter's eyes widened again, as if he had just realized something. He tried to grab your wrist, but you took your hand away and backed away from him, afraid. If he wasn't your Peter, who was he?

"Don't be scare! I know what's happening! Please, come with me." he pleaded, offering his hand to you.

You looked at it and then to his masked face, not sure if you should take it "Who are you?"

"I'm Peter Parker, just not your Peter Parker." he said, confusing you even more. He must had noticed, because he started explaining it briefly "There are different universes, a-"

"Multiverse." you finished for him and he nodded "I know, my boyfriend discovered it."

"So you're related to that Peter." he mumbled for himself. That Peter? "I'm Peter Parker and I'm Spiderman, and the Peter you know is, too, just in your universe."

"My universe? That means I'm not in my universe!?" you exclaimed, starting to panic even more, wanting nothing more than to return to wherever your universe was and to your Peter.

"N-no, it isn't." Spiderman replied, shaking his head and tone soft, almost afraid of you "But don't worry! The Peter you know is here, I can bring you to him!"

You doubted at first, you didn't know anything about him, but you also didn't know anything about the New York you were in. Taking a deep breath, you took his hand, hoping for what he said to be true. Delicately, he grabbed your waist and lifted you with him, swinging around Brooklyn. Even the way he swinged was different.

Not even two minutes later, he helped you enter an apartment through the window. Once your feet touched the ground, you looked around. It was a small living room, with just a coach and a small TV. You could hear voices, male voices, coming from another room. You looked back and Spiderman was closing the window and the curtains before taking off his mask.

"You're a kid!" you exclaimed when you observed his young features, a kind smile on his mouth. So, even in a different universe, Peter Parker was a kind man-kid.

"Hello, I'm Peter Parker." he said, introducing himself formally.

"Y/n L/n." you replied.

"Oh! So you are Peter's girlfriend! Come, he's in that room with the other Peters." he commented, grabbing your wrist again and bringing you with him to the room next to the one you were in.

The first thing you noticed was it looked like a lab, many scientific things you couldn't even name around in tables and moved by two men. One was an older man, probably in his 40s, but with a face that shouted 'cinnamon roll'. The other one was you lover, your Peter.

You stood on the door, dumbfounded again. "So this is how you discovered the multiverse." your Peter looked up at the sound of your voice, eyes widened and approaching you at a fast pace.

"Y/n! What are you doing here?" he asked, hugging you tight.

You let yourself have it, getting drunk on his scent and relaxing in his embrace, your face in the crook of his neck. You hugged him back, grounding yourself a little, recognizing the feeling of his hands on you and his breathing on the top of your head.

You separated a bit, observing his white lab coat and the jersey he had been wearing yesterday at your date. His hair was tousled and his glasses where crooked, but he still looked adorable.

"I-I don't know! I woke up and my apartment wasn't my apartment and Spiderman wasn't you and-" you started rumbling, hands trembling and eyes focused on the ground.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, I'm here now." he mumbled in your hair, pressing you to him again and giving a kiss to your temple "You have travelled across universes, but we'll return home soon, I promise."

"But how have I d-done that? A-and when are we returning home?" you whispered, face pressed to his neck and hugging him as if your life depended on it.

"Probably because of the conditions Dr. Strange have set to his spell-"

"Spell!? Magic exists!?" you exclaimed, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"It does," he chuckled, his right hand caressing your hair with affection and eyes calmed "and that's how you have ended here. I think."

You nodded, too shocked to comprehend anything he was telling you. Magic? As in Harry Potter? And why was a wizard a doctor? You then noticed someone gazing at you, and you saw the other two men looking at you two, lips pressed in a line and swinging from side to side... Just with their feet, nothing too spidey.

Your Peter followed your gaze and smiled, turning to the other two men and bringing you with him, arm around your shoulder and not letting you go, keeping you near him to help you calm down.

"Both of them are Peter Parker," he started and the older man greeted you with a nod of his head and a warm smile "they're me in different realities."

"Hello, Y/n." the older Peter said, waving and moving his fingers "It's nice to meet you, Peter has talked a lot about you."

"Yeah, man! He's whipped." the younger Peter nodded enthusiastically, smiling wide.

"There was no need to say that." Your Peter coughed awkwardly and scratched his neck in nervousness. You just found the interaction wholesome, he really liked you, enough to talk about you to his other 'him'.

"Oh! That reminds me," young Peter started, going to the lab and grabbing a bottle. He then came back to you three "Peter told us you were a translator."

"That's right." you mumbled shyly and Peter squeezed you a bit, encouraging you as if to tell you you were safe with the other two men.

"We need help with this one, we can't understand the language and Google isn't doing a good job translating." he said, lending you the bottle.

"We are trying to help Peter recover his girlfriend and friends." older Peter said, and you looked at your Peter confused.

"It's a long story, I'll tell you when we are home." you nodded and he gave you a peck, letting you go so you could go work and help them understand what that bottle had and what it did.

You followed younger Peter to the lab, turning back to look at your Peter who just gave you an encouraging smile, leaving you at ease.

While you were reading the label and translating it in a notebook young Peter had given you, the other two Peters were looking at you. One with softness and love, the other with pride.

"You found your MJ, amazing Spiderman." older Peter said, patting the other Peter's back with affection.

The other man didn't take his eyes off you, watching you interact with the younger Peter with a small smile, sighing at how beautiful you looked "Yes, at last."

[erenscherub]

series masterlist | chapter two

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫.

chapter summary: you fall back upon the scientific method to guide your investigation of whether your husband has been faithful.

pairing: eren jaeger x fem! reader

warnings: modern! au, angst, mentions of divorce, explicit sex, infidelity/cheating, toxic relationship, nonconsensual filming, voyeurism, implied baby-trapping

word count: 2.1 k

When Winter falls on New Hampshire, you feel a chill settle right down into your bones. There’s gray slush that will probably coat your boots later. The skies are overcast and gloomy. It’s depressing.

Yet, as you trudge towards the building offices with letters on the door designating them as “Smith Law Offices,” there’s a strange sort of assurance that the weather matches your mood. You’re here to see your attorney, Erwin Smith. He’s finished drafting up the divorce petition you’ll be delivering to Eren later.

You’ve always had pretty shit intuition. Whether it was deciding between two answers on a multiple-choice test, the character of a person, if disaster was going to strike that day, or the weather. Relying on your instincts has always screwed you over. While others’ instincts guide them away from danger, so far gut feelings have only resulted in repeating one quarter of organic chemistry, your roommate skipping out on three months worth of rent, getting T-boned by a taxi while waiting at a gas station, and walking to your apartment during a downpour.

Especially as a physician, you couldn’t rely on hunches or place your faith in mystical forces when it came to making decisions regarding patients. And it translated over into your personal life that everyday decision-making was guided by evidence, observation, and if you really had no idea what the hell was going on, then trial and error.

Even if you hated math and science, you were better at dealing with numbers, measures, and facts. You just were clueless when it came to emotions and anything that was more subjective than a formula or calculation.

Yet, you don’t know why you begin to rely on your intuition when it comes to your marriage.

It started a few years back with a pit in your stomach whenever you would visit Eren for lunch and his co-worker would always say hi and introduce herself as his “work wife.” Then the unease continued to bubble over when the all-nighters at the office for an upcoming deadline increased. And then you can’t help it from snowballing to full-blown anxiety when your husband has suddenly picked up a time-consuming hobby that you, your daughter, or even your mutual friends are never invited to. You conclude that you’re still rational when suddenly he’s defensive and hostile about you or Eliza touching his phone.

You’re not sure if you trust your own observations that there’s a weird pattern showing up in Eren’s speech inflections, mannerisms, and new habits. There’s not exactly a concrete scientific method you could follow to prove your hypothesis that your husband is fucking his co-worker. Or a study consisting of a series of randomized clinical trials to determine the cause and effect of which variable most contributes to infidelity and common symptoms that appear in all cases.

But with your brain going haywire from instincts blaring warning bells, flashing caution signs, waving red flags, and lighting two lanterns that a cheater is in your midst, you do what you do best.

Compile the evidence and prove or disprove your hypothesis.

You already have several months' worth of observations that your husband’s behavior has been consistently evasive.

You’ve posed several questions on what projects make him stay so frequently and so late at the office only to receive vague answers or for him to become agitated and hostile.

You hypothesize that there’s actually a little more going on between him and his “work-wife” during the carpools and late nights at the office.

You’ve even done a few tests by dropping by unexpectedly with dinner. Every time — the scent of her perfume is all over him, his shirt is misbuttoned, and the office smells like sweat.

Now all you need to do is form a conclusion backed by evidence.

The discovery of condoms in his work bag alone by itself serves as insufficient evidence.

But backed by the proof that he’s hiding in his phone? Then there’s no way to disprove your hypothesis that your husband is a lying whore-frog and you should have gone for Marcel Galliard all those years ago instead.

There’s no better evidence than the dirty secrets hidden in that phone.

You get an opportunity a few nights later.

He’s snoring peacefully beside you. His phone is lying out there in the open on the nightstand. You wave your hand in front of his face. Tell him that you’re leaving him for Jean. Tell him that you’ve been faking your orgasms and there’s nothing wrong with you prescribing him Viagra. Even play Don’t Fuck With my Love by Ed Sheeran.

Nothing.

Yeah, maybe it’s safe to assume that he’s deep in REM sleep.

Eren’s a simple guy. He’s just always been an open book made for really dumb children.

After being married for so long, you’ve learned to appreciate his transparency and blunt honesty.

So with the new development of a passcode, maybe your intuition wouldn’t have gotten you eaten by a sabertooth tiger millions of years ago. This newfound ability would have been more helpful four years ago when Eren told you the condoms in his wallet were only there for one week and that things would be fine.

His Lock Screen is a picture of your three year old daughter, Eliza, grinning from ear to ear with ice cream smeared all over her face. Cute.

There’s six failed passcode attempts before his iPhone locks for one minute.

You start with birthdays. Your daughter’s? Wrong. His? Wrong.

Oh motherfucker! If his passcode is the mistress’s birthday, then you’re really going to smother this cheating son of a bitch in his sleep.

Oh thank god.

You’re actually happy this time when the device taunts you that once again, the passcode is incorrect.

Three more attempts left. You type in your birthday and anniversary. Both are wrong.

You’re now on your last attempt.

It’s not gonna kill you if the iPhone is disabled for one minute. But Eren might try to if he wakes up to his wife trying to unlock his phone at four in the morning.

It’s a long shot, yet you type in 0913. The month and day of the first time you told him you loved him all those years ago.

The iPhone is now unlocked.

The home screen is a candid picture of you from earlier this year. You’re not sure whether you’re more surprised he even has a photo of you or how you weren’t able to notice him taking that photo. You’re caught with a wide grin because of some dumb joke Jean and Connie are physically acting out.

You’ve never really been that confident about your appearance. It makes you especially thankful that Eliza takes more like her father. Even if she has your (Y/E/C) eyes, she still has enough splotches of his signature sea-green eye color that make her all the more beautiful.

It’s a bad combination to be less than photogenic on top of being fairly introverted unless you’re comfortable with the person or just tired. So you try to wiggle your way out of as many family and friend photos as much as possible, unless they promise it’s for their eyes only.

Your friends and family are always saying that you’re beautiful, and it’s a shame that your pretty face is in so few snapshots. Despite the consistency with the frequency and conviction behind their compliments, it’s just hard to believe them when there’s Annie, Petra, Amanda, Mikasa, Sasha, and Calista around. And you’re just you.

You feel a little guilty that you’re invading your husband’s privacy and there hasn’t been anything incriminating within the first couple minutes of snooping. You go through his Safari, Google Chrome tabs, and search history. There’s not even a page opened for porn. So Eren is not using Ashley Madison.

Then you scroll through all his photos. A couple dozen classic gym rat photos of him shirtless and flaunting his arms and toned abs in the mirror. A few photos of his parents. A few of their family photos. Another few photos of him with his brother Zeke.

Fuck, is there really nothing so far?

You scroll through more photos of him with his arms around Armin and Mikasa. Group photos of those three but with Annie, Sasha, Connie, and Jean. More photos of all of them at Ymir’s and Historia’s wedding a few years back. A picture of Connie holding his son, Cyrus, when he was just born. Photos of you holding Eliza a week and a half later when you had just delivered her. A few videos of Connie doing something dumb.

More videos of Connie, Sasha, and Jean doing stupid shit together just before she moved to New York with Niccolo. Ten more videos of Jean either shit-faced drunk or again doing something stupid that also seems life-threatening and most likely illegal. Despite their love-hate relationship, it looks like Eren will never snitch on Jean. Though he’s not opposed to blackmail.

You groan as you scroll through his camera roll and it’s mostly photos of either your daughter, snapshots of you and her, family photos of the three of you, and his selfies with her of their daddy-daughter outings. The only thing you can get mad about is that he has hundreds upon hundreds of candids of you that seem to be for his eyes only. No proof of the other woman so far.

You then decide to double-check videos. Eliza is the star of most of them, as always. She’s either dancing or singing or playing with Cyrus. He has a couple of videos of you doing a couple of k-pop choreographies with her and also some with Cyrus and Connie. There’s also a few recordings of Jean snoring. A few of you belting out renditions of Never Enough from The Greatest Showman, Demi Lovato’s Tell Me You Love Me, and even Don’t Stop Believing while you were showering.

Ok, Eren. Why the fuck is this so much cuter than expected? Show me the dirt, asshole. Everyone has a few dirty little secrets, so where are yours?

You quickly take that back. You find a few too many videos saved in his favorites where you can hear him breathing heavily and groaning quietly as he’s jacking off in the background to the subject he’s recording. These are the only videos saved on his phone that are longer than 10 minutes. Again, the other woman makes no appearances.

But you might need to talk to him about boundaries and his Peeping Tom tendencies. You skim through the videos and you discover that they’re all of you when you thought you were home alone. You realize all of them have different time stamps and are spread out months apart. Each video always starts with a shot zooming in to get a better close-up of you on your bed, mewling Eren’s name shamelessly and squirming as you touch yourself to the thought of your husband who was supposed to be at work. These were likely taken from behind the bedroom door that’s cracked open wide enough for him to watch and record your naked form without you noticing him.

Wow. You definitely need to improve your situational awareness as well. It’s kinda hot though that he even has these saved.

Fuck, you’re getting sidetracked. You shake your head to snap yourself out of it. It’s been fifteen minutes already and you should be relieved there’s absolutely nothing yet.

Your face is flushed now out of guilt, embarrassment, and frustration. Your fingers are cramping from all the scrolling. You sigh slightly in disappointment. You skim through the apps. No dating apps like Tinder, or Bumble, Hinge, or even ChristianMingle. You’re just about to throw in the towel and place the iPhone back on the nightstand.

Then you see it.

There’s a familiar panic seizing your throat. He has it hidden with a bunch of other apps like YouTube, Netflix, and Hulu in a folder titled “Entertainment.” He has the What’sApp messenger app. It has three notifications. You don’t know how you manage to silence your sobs when you see there’s only one contact and one active conversation that goes back for months. The chat is an exchange of nudes and lewd messages between your husband and his co-worker that he told you not to worry about.

Yep. Of course. She’s definitely his work-wife. There’s even a few sex tapes shared between the two of them in the app that looks like it was shot in the office or in the same car that they always take to carpool together to work.

For once, your impulses guided you in the right direction. For once, your instincts led you to form a hypothesis that would be proven as valid. You just wish there was also a scientific method to recovering from heartbreak as quickly as possible as you try to stifle your strangled sobs while your husband continues to sleep peacefully next to you.

A/N: Questions? Comments? Concerns? … snide remarks?

This is my first fic. So thank you so much for reading. Please let me know if I need to tag any more warnings.

taglist: @pichara @odmlevis @izukine @candy-hime @emepe @honeyloverogers @wakatvshi

[captainshadowgirllostfan]

Man my heart really goes out for Billy...

I went back to watching Young Sheldon’s recent episode to see Missy and Mandy bond, but wound up appreciating and loving Billy and Sheldon’s friendship instead. I was afraid that it would have Sheldon bashing Billy and being a complete and utter ass as he tends to be when it comes to people with a lower IQ than him.

But instead in his role as teacher, he was patient and even nice to Billy, withholding any smart ass remarks and just working with how Billy thinks and it was fucking amazing to watch, while I was also amused by Billy’s silly remarks and connections he made when it came to math and his own life. That boy is just so silly.

It was a really great episode. The last remark about how Billy finally did pass the 6th grade but stayed in 7th for several years kind of ruined it for me...it implied that Billy never got the help he needed, and the biggest help he got was Sheldon which in some ways might make sense, I mean to me. Both of them seem to be coming from the autism spectrum though Sheldon is obviously from the higher end...what’s more it also showcased that Billy may not be all that dumb at all but rather he think very differently, literally. It’s likely the reason he fails is due to people around him not understanding him. While Sheldon does seem to think Billy is well stupid, he does take everything Billy say seriously whereas many others seem to dismiss everything Billy says. And what do you know, Billy actually outsmarts...in a way...Sheldon in this episode by posing the question of zero’s actual existence. I absolutely loved this show you have no idea!

For a moment, I thought the only reason I’d be watching Young Sheldon would be for the rest of the family, that Sheldon himself had come to be the worst thing about this show.

But this week’s episode proved me wrong. Sheldon truly is the best thing when the writers write him as endearing as he was in S1-3 of Big Bang and at times throughout the show... I think what makes Sheldon shine is when he is interacting with people who different to him and make him see things in different perspectives. This is probably why he was a whatdoyoucallit? Break-out character? 

The main protagonist of Big Bang Theory was Leonard. I will always stand by that, but Sheldon ended up outshining him because of how quirky, odd and unique he was, and how that melded well with the rest of the cast. All of his interactions with the cast had chemistry and were entertaining to say the least because of how unique his personality was and how it clashed and battled, or melded and worked with the others.

That being said, this is probably why his interaction with Billy was the best. Billy is from the other side of the spectrum so seeing two people who are so different and yet alike interact along with the intellectual philosophy melded in was just wonderful. It was also great to see Linkletter and Sturgis being put in along the ride, how they took Sheldon’s word that zero didn’t exist and tried to disprove it only to wound up nauseous realizing he was right. I absolutely loved this episode!

[kuroopaisen]

after hours || kuroo tetsurou

➵ a late night study session might just end with kuroo having a heart attack over how stupidly cute you are. 

wc: 3.1k

warnings: f!reader, i guess it’s implied she’s short?, kuroo’s Dumb, i can’t stop thinking about the in-between someone get my own story out of my head please

a/n: hi i wrote this on a whim and for some reason it’s 3k i’m gonna yartz,,, kuroo brainrot let’s go! but thank you ren for beta’ing it yet again :( 

the in-between m.list

“But I’m tired,” you whine, plopping your face cheek-first onto your textbook.

“We’re all tired,” Kuroo goads, shaking his head. “Come on. The more we do now, the less we have to worry about later.”

“I know,” you whine. “You don’t need to keep reminding me.”

“I wouldn’t have to remind you if you just did your work,” he grins. “We know for a fact that leaving things to the last minute makes you really stressed.”

“Maybe I work best under pressure,” you mumble. “Ever considered that?”

“I have,” he smiles. “Now you tell me: is it worth the nervous breakdown?”

“You’re cruel and I hate you.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” you mutter.

“I think someone’s trying to procrastinate,” he chuckles, reaching over to ruffle your hair.

“It’s late,” you groan. “I’m tired.”

“You’ve made that very clear,” he grins.

You lift your head off the textbook, glare-pouting at him. Your attempts to look intimidating rarely succeed, and this is no exception. 

Kuroo can’t hold back his fond smile.

You look exhausted.

Your eyes are a little blearier than usual, shot through with red. Your hair’s a bit of a mess – not that you’ve really made an effort with it anyway – and you’ve got that dull pallor that seems to befall everyone deficient of adequate sleep.

Maybe ten forty-six in the evening was a bit late to be starting homework. And unfortunately for you, the focus for this evening is maths and chemistry.

Of course, Kuroo’s adamant that he tried to get started earlier.

(He didn’t think that the two of you would end up wasting so much of the afternoon just watching Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, but when he’d checked the time, he’d tried to move onto studying.

You, on the other hand, had other ideas.

“Just one more episode.”

“No,” he shook his head. “We’ve got work to do.”

“But we can’t stop here,” you whined. “I wanna know what happens.”

“We’ve got to study,” he’d replied, firm and strict and resolute.

But when you’d grabbed his arm and pouted up at him, saying “Please, Tetsu?”, his resolve toppled in on itself like a poorly constructed engineering assignment made of straws.)

“Hey,” he sighs, patting you on the back. “Let’s just try to get this chapter done tonight, okay? That’s all.”

“Okay,” you mumble.

He knows it’s a bit unfair; the chapter in question is a rather long one, with far more activities in it than the average. But he trusts you to understand what needs to be done – he wouldn’t be putting you through this if it wasn’t so relevant.

He wants you to succeed. He really does. And you both know just how hard he’s been working to help you get to where you need to be.

Time and time again, you apologise for taking up so much of his time, for asking so much of him. He always smiles, saying that it’s actually good practice for him, too – and, of course, you’re managing the volleyball team.

He insists it’s a two-way street.

Not that it matters. He knows that he’d still do this for you, even if he gets nothing out of it.

He finds it too hard to say no to you, after all.

Kuroo jumps as a solid three-rap knock rattles his door.

“Are you still up, Tetsu dear?” His grandmother’s voice sounds far too amused for his liking.

“Uh, yeah,” he swallows, getting out of his chair and opening the door.

His grandmother stands in front of him, dressed in her purple silk pyjamas.

(They’re a recent birthday present that you’d chipped in a bit of money for, even though Kuroo had told you it was fine – you didn’t need to.

You’d just smiled and told him that you wanted to say a little thank you for how kind she’d been to you.

He remembers that his heart skipped a little at your smile.)

“Goodness, Tetsu, I keep forgetting just how tall you are,” his grandmother chuckles, craning her neck to get a good look at his face.

“Maybe you’re just shrinking,” Kuroo grins.

“Don’t even joke about that, my boy,” she laughs, shaking her head. “That’s a very real possibility at my age.”

She pokes her head through the doorway, catching sight of you slouched in your chair.

“You look exhausted, dear,” she smiles, tilting her head at you.

“I am,” you whine, stretching your arms over the desk. “Your grandson is a tyrant.”

“Perhaps you and Kenma should stage a coup,” she suggests, eyes twinkling. “Dethrone this despot king and free yourselves from his incessant nagging.”

“I don’t nag!”

“Oh, is that so?” her smile widens. “‘Oh, don’t forget to drink this whole bottle, Obaa-chan. It’s important to keep your fluids up – especially at your age,’” she coos, dropping her voice an octave or so in her best attempt to replicate Kuroo’s tone. “‘Oh, Obaa-chan, come take a walk with me! You’ve been sitting in front of the TV too long. Let’s get those old bones moving.’”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Kuroo grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck, “we get the picture.”

“‘Obaa-chan! You shouldn’t be up this late! You don’t wanna wear yourself out!’” She continues, cracking a grin.

“Okay, okay!” Kuroo grouches, a sour look on his face. “Point taken!”

“I’m just teasing,” she grins. “Goodnight, Tetsu. And goodnight, dear! Don’t let him boss you around!”

“Yes ma’am!” You bark cheerfully.

She chuckles, shaking her head. But she says nothing more, ambling out the door.

Kuroo sighs.

If anything, he’s just glad she didn’t poke fun at him for having a girl in his room. Though he’s well-aware he should be grateful for the fact that he's trusted enough to not have his family snooping on him every five minutes.

Besides, being alone together in a room doesn’t mean anything. Even if…

He swallows roughly, forcing his mind to go blank.

No space for unsavoury thoughts here. None at all.

He shuts the door with a firm slam, turning back to you with his best poker face.

“So,” he hums, ambling back over to you and glancing at the textbook laid out on the desk. “What do you want to focus on?”

“Well, I think it’s time for us to talk about Pride’s true identity—”

Kuroo tsks, shaking his head. “We’ve had enough Brotherhood for one evening.”

You whine, slouching back in your chair. “Just one more episode?”

“No,” he laughs. “If we keep putting this off, we’re just going to have more to stress about later.”

“Fine,” you sigh, sticking your tongue out at him. “You’re no fun.”

“I’m starting to think hiring you on as manager was a mistake,” he grins.

“Excuse me?” You gasp, affronted.

“You’re supposed to be responsible,” he chuckles. “You know – able to make good choices and all that.”

“I do make good choices,” you glare at him. “I just hate any and everything to do with maths.”

Kuroo snorts. To be fair, he’s had the sneaking suspicion that you might be much better at chemistry if it didn’t involve so much mathematics.

“Besides,” you huff, crossing your arms, “the first years would riot.”

“You mean Lev would riot.”

“I’m sure Inuoka would stick up for me,” you say. “And you don’t want to make Shibayama sad, do you?”

“I didn’t say anything about kicking you out,” Kuroo grins, raising an eyebrow at you.

“I know,” you hum. “Just making sure you’re aware.”

Kuroo rolls his eyes playfully, flicking your forehead. “Whatever.”

The two of you settle down after that, returning to your blasted enemy.

You do fairly well, all things considered. Your focus is a bit off, but you make a good effort. And, like always, you manage to understand Kuroo’s layman explanations of things.

Of course, the two of you can’t help yourself – your study is punctuated by straying conversations that last a little longer than they should (Kuroo’s a big believer in the fifteen-five-fifteen study method, but sometimes there’s simply too much to say; a mere five minutes doesn’t cover it). Sometimes you simply demand to see Inu-chan, not budging until you’d given the Akita a good pat.

But tonight, even Kuroo tires quickly. He figures it’s probably because you started so late; something he promises himself he’ll never let happen again. Although, he’s not willing to bet money on it.

“Alright, I’m gonna go get a drink,” he sighs, stretching his arms above his head as he stands up. His interlaced fingers almost brush the ceiling. “Did you want anything?”

“I’m okay, thanks,” you sigh, putting your pencil down.

You’ve got that look on your face. The one you get when you’re faced with a particularly confusing equation or a concept you need a bit of time to wrap your head around. Kuroo knows it well; it’s usually soon followed by a quiet confession of worry and doubt.

“Hey,” he murmurs, reaching out a hand and ruffling your hair gently. “You’re doing better than you think you are.”

He wishes he could do more for you, wishes he could kick those awful feelings out of your brain. But there’s not much more he can do than this.  

You look up at him with wide eyes. Your features look so gentle in the light of his desk lamp, the shadows soft and diffused. You look fond.

Kuroo tries to ignore it.

“You think so?” You pout.        

“Would I lie?” He chuckles.

You peer at him closely for a moment, leaning close.

Too close.

Close enough for him to make out the intricacies of your eye colour. Close enough that he’s sure you can feel just how hot his face has become. Close enough for his mind to wander to a place it really shouldn’t.

He stands up sharply before he’s even processed what’s going on.

“I’m, uh…” He clears his throat roughly, scratching the back of his neck with one hand. “I’m gonna go get some water.”

“Okay!” You nod, smiling sweetly at him.

He doesn’t let himself linger, rushing off to the kitchen and pouring himself a tall glass of water.

He gulps the whole thing down at breakneck speed. His punishment for such hastiness is a hiccup that lurches his whole chest. Well, at least it shifted whatever weird feeling was there before.

What time is it?

He turns to the clock on the kitchen wall.

His eyes blow wide.

Twelve thirty-six. Oh, shit. He ponders, for a moment, if the clock is a few hours fast.

With a little nugget of guilt in his chest, he rushes back upstairs to his bedroom.

He opens the door slowly, not wanting to disturb the house. He slips through just as quietly, turning to say something to you.

You're lying on the desk again. But this time, your head is laid on crossed arms, your back rising and falling gently with each breath.

Kuroo’s heart feels like it might damn well shatter.

His first instinct is to pick you up and put you on his bed.

His first coherent thought is ‘what the fuck, dude?’.

He slinks towards you and places a gentle hand on your shoulder. He flushes at the contact.

What are you, twelve? He chastises himself. You’ve touched each other plenty of times before.

He immediately regrets that phrasing.

“Hey,” he murmurs, shaking your shoulder slightly. “Wake up.”

You’re motionless.

“Hey,” Kuroo whines.

“Hm?” You croak, stirring a little.

Kuroo draws back.

You lift your head and blink at him through bleary eyes.

Holy shit, he thinks. Holy fucking shit.

“It’s past midnight,” he says, ruffling your hair on instinct. Why he made the effort to yet again make physical contact with you, he doesn’t know. It’s a terrible idea, really.

“Ew,” you frown. “No.”

Kuroo shoves both his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. There’s no risk of him doing something stupid if he does that, right?

You’re staring at your phone, your eyebrows drawn together and your lips pursed.

He knows that look.

It’s the one you always pull when he (reluctantly) calls an end to whatever you’re doing before walking you home in the evening. And he doesn’t miss how you stick a little closer to him when it’s dark, or how you always seem to glance over your shoulder at each and every peculiar sound. And he certainly doesn’t miss how you ask him to text you to let you know he’s gotten home safe.  

You don’t need to tell him that you don’t want to walk all that way in the dark.

“Do you just want to stay here tonight?” He asks. He loathes himself for the weird fuzziness that churns in his gut.

You pout at him. He’s seen that face enough times to know that it means ‘please.’

“Wait here,” he smiles.

He hurries to the laundry area, rifling through his grandmother’s pile of clean clothing. There’s no way he’s going to let you sleep in your school uniform; it can’t be comfortable, and the fabric doesn’t seem breathable.

He goes through the pile once. Twice. Three times.

Nothing. There’s nothing he can lend you for the evening.

“Shit,” he mumbles, running a hand through his hair. Surely there must be—

Oh no. Oh no.

He catches sight of a plain black shirt sitting atop his pile of clean clothes. His face suddenly feels very, very hot.

It’s fine, he thinks. It’s not a big deal. My heart is not racing at the thought of her wearing one of my clothes. It’s not.

He grabs the shirt with a certain boyish carelessness, as if to prove to himself that he’s not losing his mind.

Sure, the blurry image of you wearing one of his shirts keeps trying to barge its way to the forefront of his mind, but it’s fine. It’s fine. It’s just a teenage boy thing.

He stalks back to his room with the whisper of a scowl on his face. Man, he needs to go to sleep.

As he opens the door, he catches sight of you mid-stretch. Your face is screwed up like a cat’s, nose scrunched up and eyes screwed shut.

But you’re cute. How is that cute? Why is that expression so endearing?

I’m delirious, he surmises. Probably because it’s so late.

He holds the shirt out to you with a stiff arm. “Here.”

Would you find it weird, him giving you one of his own shirts to sleep in? Would you think he’s being creepy?

You just nod as you take it from him, holding it to your chest with two hands like it’s a blanket.

Ah. So he’s overthinking it. Like an idiot.

“Did you let your family know?” He asks, trying to distract himself from his own fraying thoughts.

You nod. “I called them.”

“And they’re… fine with it?” His eyes widen slightly. Their daughter, staying over a night at a boy’s house…

“They were more angry at me for waking them up,” you pout. “But they didn’t have any problems with it.”

Kuroo’s heart swells. He’s trusted – your parents don’t mind this little arrangement. He’s not quite sure why he’s so proud, but he lets himself bask in it.

“Hey, Tetsu?”

“Hm?”

“Could I please have some water?” You mumble, rubbing one of your eyes with your knuckles.

He dashes out of the room a little quicker than he usually would – almost like his body had moved on instinct to fulfil your request.

By the time he gets back to his room, you’ve finished changing.

Kuroo’s certain he’s going to explode.

His shirt is so big on you – it’s already a bit roomy on him – grazing your lower thighs and giving him the overwhelming desire to wrap his arms around you. Your eyes are half-lidded, your cheeks puffed out a little, your hair all messy and unkempt. You look so sleepy, so cute, so—

He thrusts the glass of water towards you, cringing as the liquid sloshes dangerously close to the lip of the cup.

“Thank you,” you smile, your face lighting up as you take it from you.

Kuroo doesn’t fail to notice how your fingers brush against his as you do so.

God, he really needs to get some sleep.

“You stay in here,” he swallows, gesturing to his room.

You blink at him for a moment before realising what he means. “Wait, really?”

He nods. “I’ll just sleep on the couch.”

“No—” You’re pouting at him, misplaced guilt shining in your eyes.

“It’s fine,” Kuroo grins, ruffling your hair on reflex. He swears he zaps his fingers. “Now, you get some sleep.

“Fine,” you mumble, glare-pouting at him. “But you’ll… you’ll pay for this.”

“Will I now?” His grin broadens.

“I will,” you nod, comically resolute. “Wait, no—no, you will.”

Kuroo laughs, ruffling your hair again and reaching to—

Woah. Woah.

Where’d this sudden urge to kiss you on the forehead come from? That’s… weird.

He draws his hand back quickly. He can’t risk doing anything stupid.

“Now sleep,” he tuts, pointing you to the bed. “But don’t forget to drink your water.”

“I know,” you huff, turning around and scuttling towards the bed.

Kuroo turns around sharply, making a beeline for the door. If seeing you in his shirt was enough to make his brain go haywire, then seeing you in his bed…

He’s pretty sure he throws you a ‘good night’ before pulling the door to his room firmly shut, but he can’t be certain. He’s too busy taking a deep breath, trying to filter all the unsavoury and alarming thoughts out of his brain.

You’re his friend. He’s not supposed to want to kiss you on the forehead, to hold you in his arms. Hell, you’d probably think it was weird enough that he finds you so damn cute. And God, the thought of making you uncomfortable…

The guilt roots itself deep as he grabs himself some blankets and pillows from the laundry cupboard, dragging himself towards the couch.

He throws himself onto it face first, trying to ignore the burn running through his body. It feels like he’s on fire – and that pouty, sleepy expression of yours is scorched on the back of his eyelids.

This is normal, he reasons. He’s just a normal, hormonal teenager who likes girls. And you, a dear and beloved friend, just so happens to be a girl. This is unfortunate, but it’s fine. It doesn’t mean anything more. Right?

You’re just friends. Nothing weird going on here.

Besides, it’s not his fault. Anyone would’ve been endeared by what he’d seen tonight.

You’re just too damn cute.

Right?

[yeoandmoon]

you are now listening to graceland too by phoebe bridgers! ( yeosang x f!reader )

fluff, burnout!yeosang, bassist!yeosang, writer!reader, childhood friends 2 lovers but also idiots 2 lovers, yeosang and reader run away, seongjoong are engaged, wooyoung + yeonjun have a band, there is only one bed, yeosang has a nose ring, it’s implied reader has a bad relationship with her mother, wc is 3.1k

NOTE: happy yeosang day! this was a doozy to write, but i hope you all enjoy it! its based off one of my favourite phoebe bridgers songs! :)

There’s a mural on the wall of the hotel lobby. It’s a warm toned painting of a forest, with a hint of a bright blue sky peeking out from the top of the trees. There’s a moose standing at the forefront of the mural, and a little fox sleeping on a rock towards the bottom, surrounded by colourful flowers and leaves.

The mural confused you, if you were being honest. The hotel you worked the night audit at was situated in the busy downtown centre of the city you lived in, and there were barely any forests for miles around the city - let alone any wildlife, like moose or foxes. Hongjoong said it was to make guests feel more ‘in touch with nature’ and to help people forget about the ‘problems of the real world’, while Yeosang claimed it was ‘just another scam in the tourist trap’.

You, on the other hand, was sure the mural was put there to torture you. You would spend nights having staring contests with the moose (which, to your surprise, you always lost), or you would spend hours on Google with Hongjoong trying to find out what species of fox the sleeping fox was (you were sure it was a cape fox, while Hongjoong swore up and down that it was a gray fox). The blue sky between the trees teased you; a reminder that most of your days were spent in the library at your university, or in this dimly lit lobby.

Sometimes, it felt like the only time you saw the sunshine was when you were with Yeosang.

Despite the occasional burnout and the lack of seeing sun most days, you didn’t mind the job. You were always more of a night person, and your classes were always later in the day so you did manage to pull in some sleep. Due to the late hours, you usually only dealt with customers in the first hour or two of your shift, and most of that was just directing confused Ubereats delivery people and pretty Tinder dates to hallways and rooms. It was the perfect job to work on your writing, and get your school work out of the way without listening to your mother cry about how you’re throwing your life away like your sister.

Plus, you could think of a hundred worse people to spend the night shift with than the nighttime valet, Hongjoong. Hongjoong often kept you occupied with his latest reforms and art projects, and stories about his fiancee, Seonghwa & their friend, Yunho (who he kept insisting you needed to go on a date with).

“Your emo boy is coming.”

Well, you could think of ninety-nine worse people to spend the night shift with than Hongjoong, who sat next to you at the check-in desk.

You scoff, “He’s not my emo boy.” You mumble, glancing at the street entrance to see Yeosang walk in with an ice coffee on hand.

Despite your words, Kang Yeosang was your person (you wouldn’t quite use the term ‘emo boy’, even if it did fit), and he had been since your family moved in next door to his family when you two were children. Although your friendship lately had been reduced to these late night meetings while you two were on break on your respective graveyard shifts (you at the hotel and Yeosang at the convenience store down the block, of course) and occasional meetings in the garden when you were both running errands for your families, you still considered Yeosang one of your dearest memories.

It was hard not too, you suppose. He had been there for many of your firsts, and was always cheering you on. Yeosang always made you feel powerful and important - like a powerful heroine, and not his bratty next door neighbor who cried on his doorstep after being dumped by her first year partner. He always made you feel wanted.

Yeosang grinned at you as he stepped into the lobby (if your heart fluttered in your chest, you ignored it). He had on a backwards dad cap, and he had recently changed his nose ring out for the gold hoop San had bought him for his birthday. You could just faintly see his birthmark peeking out from where his bleach blonde hair curled under the hat.

“Hello, Sunshine.” He greets you, setting the coffee down on your desk.

You set the pen you were holding down, “Hi Yeosang.”

Upon first glance at Yeosang, you can tell he’s buzzing about something. He’s leaning over the check-in counter and chewing on his lip while making small talk with Hongjoong about the tourist season.

You raise an eyebrow, sipping your coffee as Yeosang turns back to you, “Do you remember Wooyoung and Yeonjun?”

You nearly choke on your coffee at the mention of your other neighbor and ex-boyfriend. Wooyoung had moved onto your street a few years after you had, and quickly became apart of the little bond you and Yeosang had formed. He moved to the coast with Yeonjun, your ex, the first chance they had gotten, but Wooyoung’s family remained in the neighborhood.

“I babysat Woo’s brother the other day…” You watched your friend, “Did something happen? Mrs Jung didn’t say anything the other day.”

Yeosang grins, and it’s his scheming grin, “Their band got signed,” He tells you, “They need a new bassist, and Wooyoung showed them that video you took of me from that show last month. Their label wants me to come down; play a few shows with them, record a couple demos. See if we have chemistry, basically.”

Your eyes widen - both out of excitement and fear. You were happy and excited for Yeosang! This is the opportunity he had been wanting for years, but you were also terrified.

You were terrified in a horrible, selfish way because you knew if Yeosang left to join Wooyoung and Yeonjun, he’d never come back to you.

“That’s… That’s great, Yeo!” You manage a grin whilst trying to shove the selfish thoughts away, “When do they want you there?”

Yeosang’s smile falters, just for a moment but you still catch it, “Monday.”

“F-Five days?”

He nods, “I’m leaving Saturday morning, so I can be there Sunday afternoon.”

You can see it in his eyes; he’s terrified too.

Before you can say anything else, Yeosang leans over the check-in counter and presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, “I have to get back to work, Sunshine.” He tells you, his voice quiet as if he’s giving you a secret, “I’ll see you later.”

He’s already halfway down the lobby when you swear and move out of your chair, you quickly call his name as you move out from behind the desk. You rush over to where he’s standing, and look up at him. He’s confused.

He opens his mouth to say something, but the words die in his throat when you pull him into a tight hug, “I’m proud of you, Yeo.”

Yeosang wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. His chest is warm, and you’re sure you could spend hours here. He smiles, pressing another kiss to your head, “I know, Sunshine.” He pulls away, his hand on your arm, “I really do have to go, though. I’m already late for work.”

You nod, wrapping your arms around your torso as you watch him leave the hotel and turn down the street to go back to the convenience store. When you turn back around, Hongjoong is watching you with an amused look on his face.

You glare at him as you walk back to the desk, “Don’t you have a fiance to call, or something?”

----------------

You were tired.

Friday nights were always busy, but tonight was draining and loud and you could only take so much of Miss Liu’s incessant phone calls about mundane things at 3am. All you wanted to do was go home, and fall into your bed and sleep for hours.

Hongjoong didn’t help your mood either. It was an innocent question about Yeosang, asking if you’d seen him since he visited you on his break but it pushed your mood down to a low point. You had been so busy the past few days, and if you were being honest with yourself, you had been avoiding Yeosang.

You weren’t ready to see him leave. You knew it was selfish, but you figured avoiding Yeosang was easier than admitting you didn’t want him to leave you behind. You would just simply watch his life through Instagram and consider the ‘what-ifs’ in your life.

You shouldered your tote bag after clocking out before yelling a good-bye to Hongjoong. You could see the beginning rays of morning sun hitting the other buildings in the downtown core as you stepped out the employee doors, and then you were hit by the sight of Yeosang leaning against one of the pillars.

Your eyes widen, “Yeosan-”

“Come with me.”

You stop. Your words are left in your throat, “W-Wh… Go with you? To the coast?”

Yeosang nods, “Come with me,” He steps forward, taking your hands in his, “What do you have here? A degree you don’t care about? A job you hate?”

You frown, running over his words in your head, “I-I have my mom. And… I have Hongjoong!”

He raises an eyebrow, “Y/N, Sunshine… Your mom will barely notice you’re gone, and Hongjoong can visit us.” He cupped your cheek.

You’re so busy having an internal crisis you hardly notice the usage of ‘us’. You’re considering the logistics in your head. Yeosang was right; you didn’t care about your degree, and all it would take was an email saying you quit for them to find a new front desk person. Your mom would be upset for a few weeks. She’d probably make some passive aggressive Facebook posts about you before acting like your best friend again.

“Yeosang…” You look up at him, your hand coming up to circle around his wrist.

“Your sister is there, and you could write everyday.” Yeosang adds on, “I did the math, Y/N. Between the two of us, we’d have 6 months to figure it out. 6 months, and we’ll come back here if nothing works out.”

You stay silent for a moment.

“Sunshine, I promised I’d show you the stars, didn’t I?”

You gasp at the promise. It was a silly promise he had made when you were both kids; something you’d almost forgotten about.

It hits you quickly: there’s no one else you’d rather run away with. There’s no one else you’d trust to run away with.

You look up at Yeosang, “Yes.”

He grins, “Yes?”

You nod, “Yes, Yeo. I’ll go with you.”

----------------

An hour. An hour was how long it took for you to turn your life upside down for Kang Yeosang.

In an hour, you had emailed your program advisor and told them you wouldn’t be returning for the next semester, and you had called your manager and told them you wouldn’t be coming in for your next shift, or any shift after that (which was promptly followed by a phone call from Hongjoong, who seemed more excited about this than you were). You had packed up most of your clothes and important belongings, and they were loaded into the back of Yeosang’s shitty car. You left a note for your mother, and before you knew it, you were sitting in the passenger’s seat of Yeosang’s car.

----------------

You had fallen asleep barely an hour into the car ride. 

The rolling hills and fields outside your window made your eyes feel heavier, but you tried staying awake to keep Yeosang company.

“Go to sleep, Sunshine.” He tells you, “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Yeosang’s promise was all it took for you to succumb to your exhaustion.

You don't usually remember your dreams. Though today, there are flashes of a beach, and a smile that takes your breath away. There are blue skies and if you try hard enough, you can just faintly smell sea salt.

You wake up hours later, smiling. True to his word, Yeosang is still there when you wake. He’s wearing a pair of sunglasses, and tapping his fingers to the beat of the song on the radio.

Yeosang smiles when he notices you’re awake, “I talked to your mother.”

Your eyes widen, “You talked to who?”

He laughs, “You didn’t answer your phone, so she called me.”

You frown, glancing at your phone in the free cup holder. You could imagine the amount of calls and texts that were in there.

“She wasn’t very happy.” Yeosang continues, “She wants you to call her when we get there.”

You nod, “Thank you, Yeo.” You say softly, looking over at him.

Yeosang throws you a smile, “Of course.”

“Not just for talking to my mom…” You watch him, “For not leaving me behind, too. Thank you.”

Yeosang reaches over, taking your hand, “I’d never leave you behind, Sunshine. You’d have to try really hard to get rid of me.”

----------------

The car ride was long, and full of Yeosang’s early 2000s emo playlist & fast food. You called your sister, who was ecstatic to hear about your plans and had immediately offered you and Yeosang her beach house. She made a comment about how ‘she always knew you two would end up together’, and it made your heart flutter when you glanced at Yeosang.

Yeosang told you about Wooyoung’s band, and how excited he was to play with Wooyoung. You smiled, listening to him fondly talk about your old friends and their music.

It was getting late though, and you could see it in Yeosang’s face that he was getting tired.

“We should stop for the night.” You tell him, “You’ve been driving since 6am, Yeo.”

He huffs, “We could drive through the night.” He proposes, “We’d make it to your sister’s place in a few hours.”

You frown, “Or... We could stop for the night, shower, and then leave first thing tomorrow morning. We'll get there by noon tomorrow.”

Yeosang glances at you, going to protest. He ends up yawning instead, his nose wrinkling slightly, “Fine.” He pouts.

You laugh, reaching for your phone to google the closest hotels. There's a comfortable silence in the car, filled with the occasional beat of Yeosang’s fingers on the steering wheel. You feel at ease, even if it's just for a moment.

“There’s a motel off the next exit.” You tell him, stifling a yawn of your own.

----------------

Sure enough, there had been a motel off the next exit. It was small and slightly rundown, but cheap and had an available room. You waited in the car while Yeosang went into the check-in office, promising to be back in a moment.

He came back dangling a key in his hand, and a slight frown on his face as he opened the car door to let you out.

“So... There’s only one bed.” He broke the news, a blush growing up his cheeks, “It’s all they had, unless we wanted to drive another hour down the highway.”

Your eyes widen, “O-Oh.” You glance at the key, and then back up at Yeosang, “I’ll sleep on the floor, or something.”

Yeosang frowns, shaking his head, “We can share for one night, Sunshine. I think it’ll be okay.”

Which leads you to here; lying almost nose to nose with Yeosang. Your hair was soaking wet from a shower in the tiny bathroom and the small motel bed wasn’t comfortable, but you didn’t seem to mind as you took in the man in front of you. You pushed the strands of bleach blonde hair out of his face, and your fingers softly lingered on the birthmark next to his eye.

His breath stuttered, “Y/N,” He says, his voice a mere whisper, “We’re free.”

You let your hand rest against his cheek. Your eyes lingered on his lips before you caught yourself, moving your gaze back up to his eyes.

Yeosang only smiled at you. He gently held your wrist as he tilted his head and placed a soft kiss on your palm, “I’m going to kiss you now, Sunshine.”

“Yes please.”

You felt every nerve in your body light up when Yeosang kissed you.

A small part of your brain told you that this is where you’re meant to be: in Yeosang’s arms.

You felt this way the first time Yeosang had kissed you too, all the way back on that roof in 11th grade. You two had been talking about the future; about your writing and Yeosang’s music. You looked up at the hazy night sky, and you asked Yeosang if you’d ever get to see the stars.

He smiled at you, telling you that he would show them to you one day before he kissed you so sweetly.

Yeosang still kissed you sweetly. He kissed you like you held the secrets of the universe in your hand for him to take.

You pulled away, “I think I love you.”

He smiles against your lips, rubbing soft circles into your wrist, “I think I love you too, baby.”

—————-

You had this assumption that the next morning would be awkward; that you would be stuck for the next 6 months with someone you could barely look in the eye because of a late night confession.

Instead, you awoke to Yeosang kissing your head and placing a bagel & ice coffee down for you. He had quickly ushered you into the shower, before you put on a change of clothes and were quickly led out to the car between bites of your bagel. This all happened over Yeosang telling you how you only had a few hours before you reached your sister’s beach house, and he wanted to try and make good time so you could enjoy the beach today.

You giggled at his antics before settling into the passenger’s seat for the last few hours of your journey.

You sipped your ice coffee as you watched out the window. The countryside on the highway zoomed by you, and the car was full of sunlight from Yeosang’s sunroof being open. There was a Fall Out Boy song on the radio, and you felt a sense of calm brush over you as Yeosang took your hand in his.

The sunshine had never felt so nice on your skin as Yeosang pressed a soft kiss to the back of your hand.

taglist: @vanishingboots @sunsethw4​ 

[nightswithkookmin]

Was Jk shading Taehyung during his New Years wishes to him at GDA? Twitter people are reading a LOT into it, saying that Jk is still salty at Tae and vice versa. They seem pretty chill to me. Why do people always find reasons to believe there is Vminkook drama?Is there a reason to think they aren't repairing their freindship?

VMINKOOK...

First of all, why would JK shade Taehyung? What are they fighting about, I wonder. Has anyone known JK to be the passive aggressive king slash shade throwing one in that trio? Because, not me...

I don't see him as the, 'those two are hanging out now followed by a slight head tilt,' kind of person. The 'Jimin wants to come but JK is keeping him from coming,' the 'well, you ignore me anyway so I couldn't tell you were on a mission' kind.

Or even the, 'my friendship relationships are gold to me and it's important for me to nurture those connections' knowing damn well the elephant in the room has a possessive streak and he himself has been on record, allegedly, stating he has one same age friend and all his friends are hyungs- so what is JK to you then Jimin?

Then the whole, 'texting is not a great way to build connections and is a barrier to effective communication' -words spewed in full cognizance of the fact JK is a bad texter yet prefers texting to talking on phone anyway- that is what I call shade. Not sure what was in the water that day, but chilee Jimin was all over the place in that Be Behind video. Lmho.

I think everyone, including even the semi-rational Tuktukker, know damn well what JK meant by that statement and what had prompted it- but leave it to them to circumvent.

Ah, V hyung... we used to have a special bond. When we were trainees, we had such great chemistry. V used to be the easiest hyung to talk to, now it's awkward.

Where is the shade in this? I don't think at all that he is or was in anyway shading Tae or any one. To shade would imply he has stock. He don't.

I hate when people talk about Tae Kook as if there is something wrong with their bond. There isn't. It is what it is. It's just not what their shoppers make it out to be. They are looking for depth where there is none. The fact of the matter is Tae Kook lacks depth to their dynamics. We know it, JK knows it, BigHit knows it. No amount of bullying Jimin or Jokers will add that missing depth back to their relationship. Sorry.

'He is still salty,' honey he was never salty about anything to begin with. They tried it! Making it sound like JK wants Tae to change in order to relate with him again. He don't.

Why would JK be salty about Tae's growth? Why would he object to Tae's growth?

Because that's what it is. This whole Tae Kook tensions is not about them fighting, it's about them growing apart. Tae grew the fuck up and JK can't relate with him or treat him the way he used to when they were young.

And if these self absorbed, legally blind shoppers looked beyond Tae Kook for a second, they will know it's not just JK complaining about Tae changing and becoming different as he grew up.

Tae used to be the easiest hyung to talk to and bully because they were closer in age and Tae allowed for such familiarity between them. Similar to how, Jin and Jimin allows for a certain degree of familiarity and informality between them and Jk.

While Tae allowed and was open to this level of closeness and informality between them, JK apparently held on to the gates, only scraping the surface of it and inhibiting the depth that could have been to their dynamics.

Was Tae content with that dynamic? No. Did he communicate that to JK? May be he did but JK wouldn't let his guards down. Tae failed to breach JK's emotional boundaries and years later he would express this sentiment openly to JK in their conversation in Soop.

Whereas, JK admitted to Jimin's successful breach of his emotional walls when he recounted the story of their rainy day fight- let me not hear any one compare Jikook to any of JK's ship in BTS, I whoop your ass. D!

This is the intimacy that is missing in Tae Kook. When you are close to someone, you not only feel at ease with them enough to express your thoughts freely with them, you are comfortable enough with them to be yourself, be different, to antagonize them without the fear that your differences and outbursts will sever your bond or lead to irreparable damage to your bond.

Fact is, in as much as JK felt close to Tae in the early days, he harbored a fear that being fully himself enough to be 'opinionated' and fully honest in his self expressions towards him, would break their bond.

He clearly didn't trust their bond was strong enough to handle all of that. That's the intimacy you find in Jikook. The trust. They are both unapologetically themselves with eachother because they trust in their bond.

Which means they share a lot but are also very opinionated with eachother, clash and assert themselves with eachother. And I know the kumbaya fake woke Jokers hate to hear it, but Jikook are strong not because they don't fight but because their bond withstands the test of a fight as Tae explained in his conversation with JK in Soop.

He was able to get closer with Jimin and Jin by being openly assertive with them- going against Jimin in the dumpling incident and all the times they fought, directly confrontational with Jin over their dance choreo but with JK he had always been scared to open himself in that way with him for whatever reason- I won't bother speculating on. It's their ship, they should do the maths.

May be he learned his lesson. He's learned not to fear conflict, to be assertive without fearing he would be punished for it, to be less passive aggressive as he was before and express himself and his feelings more openly over the years.

But it took him closing himself off to get there. Always looking in photos as if Yeontan ate the last brisket. Exuding melancholic vibes.

Young Jk equally didn't have a positive view on conflict and conflict resolution and I think he knew his place as the youngest and did not want to be as opinionated or assertive against them and so, as he explained to Tae in Soop, he opted to keep a safe distance emotionally from everyone- not just Tae.

When JK talks about we used to have a special bond, all he means is they used to be mischievous, get in trouble together, be brats, chat shit under their breaths behind their hyungs- partners in crime and as I like to call them, be the evil power duo of BTS.

They literally shared one brain cell lol, and conspired a lot. Their bond was unique only in that Tae was a rebel at heart and a bit innocent or immature as RM and the others would say.

Ship wise, Tae used to be on his side. He was protective of him and and looked out for him when they were young- that's of course before he started passive aggressively exposing JK's relationship with Jimin on VLives, incessantly shipping Jimin with Suga, dragging JK's ass away from JM's car so he could ride with him and all of those harmless moments that to anyone with little understanding of Tae's character would assume Tae didn't support JK's relationship.

And even after Soop, he put JK on the spot when he tried eye fucking Jimin through the view finder during their dynamite MV- he knew what JK was going to do. He's seen him do that a countless times to Jimin- HE KNOWS.

There is a reason JK gave him that look in the Dynamite shoot interview when he thought Tae was intentionally trying to expose him holding hands with Jimin behind Suga.

As much as these little things may be irritating to Kook, I don't think Tae gotta kiss his ass too. Jk can be messy sometimes with his Jikook agenda.

Of course they dynamic would change if Tae changed too- which is what Jimin and everyone says of Taehyung. He is very reserved and mature now. He is not the same childish, immature, reckless teen JK or Tuktukkers used to know.

He grew faster than either JK or JM had hoped and they both miss that part of him. Tae said he wished he could get a time machine and show Army the 'Chimchar' he was back in the day. The only way Taekook can be real is if we all hop into a time machine and go back in time to change the trajectory of events.

Tuktukkers need to let go of their old ship, that ship is dead and embrace the new ship brewing in its stead.

Jimin have said occasionally, that side of Tae pops out but he is very different from who he used to be when they were young. Which explains these outbursts of moments and interactions reminiscent of their past bond but that's all that is.

Why do these people insist on infantilizing Tae and holding him to his past?

That comment at GDA wasn't shade. But it was an inside Joke I feel. Like I said, when JK talks about their past history and bond, to me it's reference to a time period where Tae was on his side and was mischievous. To me it's code for 'I miss when you were less uptight and strict.'

He brought up when Tae gave them leeway and was lenient with their schedule during the making of Be- a sentiment all the members expressed in the Be behind video when they praised Tae for giving them much room in their schedules.

It was the same thing he said during his speech to Tae at GDA after bringing up the whole past bond thingy. He wanted to express appreciation to Tae perhaps because the loose schedule Tae had created had given him much time to go home and give his man a blowjob or go house shopping with him- who knows.

The way he kept looking at Jimin while saying that... yea. I'm going with that. Lol.

That loose schedule definitely put Tae in JK and JM's good graces.

My take away from that moment though, is- JK's agenda to give Tuktukkers hernia🤣

Lord I'm dying. I laughed so hard my ribs hurt. Pray for me. Lmho.

Chilee JK.

Dude is on a mission to run the entire Taekook gay, Taekook married propaganda campaign into the ground. What guts me is, he knows what Tae Kook is. I bet he went online after that Tae Kook Vlive to watch Tae Kook compilations. He's been on a mission to obliterate that ship since. Lol.

I mean I won't put it past him. Probably looked up Yoonmin while he was at it and showed Jimin analysis videos of him moaning in Suga's bedroom🤣🤣🤣🤣

Would explain why he was laughing when he saw Yoonmin in the comments during the VLive and why Jimin looked like he wanted to eat us alive. Lmho.

Oh Tae touched my peepee? You bloody moaned in Suga's bedroom how about we call it even?

ROTFL.

I joke but I mean, this is the same dude who took an online personality test after Tae read his results to him in Soop- he definitely watched those Tae Kook compilation-Y'all laugh else I'll shoot you. Lmho. I can't be the only one who finds this funny!

He knows what shipping is, he knows how statements like that would be construed by the fans- and the fact Jimin had spent an entire interview and behind scenes openly disavowing his glorified friendship connections... I smell a renewal of commitment somewhere.

Don't mind me. I play too much sometimes.

There is nothing wrong with Tae Kook's friendship. If anything, it seems JK feels very appreciative of Tae in recent times which is usually a good sign between them because for Vminkook to thrive they all need to make space for eachother and for the pairings amongst them to thrive- Vmin, Taekook and Jikook.

I hope this helps?

Signed,

GOLDY

[marrys-dream-world]

if we’re bound to be something, why not together? (chapter seven)

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Notes:  I know I'm late, family things. Don't worry, I'm not gonna abandon this story or anything, I swear. Even after ladynoir july ends, I'm still gonna post. Day 7: Height Difference. @ladynoirjuly

Ladybug knew she was short.

As soon as she started growing, the doctors had warned her parents that she might not do much more of that. After all, she inherited her mother’s body type, so she would never get to a height even close to her father’s towering frame. That’s why Marinette was static when she grew taller than her mother, at least she knew she would not stay that short. There was hope for her, still, so maybe the doctors could be wrong, it wasn’t an exact science, anyway. It's not like her friends remind her of it, not since she kicked Kim in the stomach when he called her shorty at the age of seven. They were mature enough, now, to not need to fall back on jabs at her height.

Unless you were, of course, Chat Noir.

It all started on a relatively grumpy day. Adrien Agreste, the love of her life, had gotten a very noticeable  growth spurt. As she had gotten to class surprisingly early (five minutes before the bell rang!!), she was putting her stuff away on the desk when he came in and was alerted by Nino's loud gasp.

"Dude!" He shouted, attracting the attention of their entire class. "You shot up!"

"Haha, yeah, a little." Adrien said, rubbing the back of his neck and turning slightly red. "Happened over the weekend."

Everyone started to congratulate him good-naturedly, Lila suddenly materializing by his side and clinging to his arm in a way that made Marinette's blood boil. Fortunately, Ms. Bustier showed up and sent them to their respective seats. Marinette wondered if she imagined the relieved slump of Adrien's shoulders. During class, she had been unable to fully pay attention, this new development eating her up inside.  Before, she had been perfectly positioned to stare into his green eyes furtively, but now? Her crammed up neck would call too much attention to her. So she spent the rest of the day grumpy, deprived of her daily dose of Agreste’s big greens.

However, when she arrived at their patrol site with a strained “hey, Chat” and got no response, curiosity overwhelmed her annoyance.

“Chat?” She tried again, shaking his shoulder. He glanced at her, stance casual.

“Oh, sorry, my lady.” He said nonchalant and she would have almost believed him if not for the mischievous glint in his green eyes. “Didn’t see you down there.”

Her face matched the color of her suit. “Excuse me?!”

“Having a bad day, bugaboo?” Chat Noir asked, a full smirk now blossoming on his face. “The weather too bad down there?”

She growls at him and he, wisely, jumps away, starting patrol. 

Since then, Chat Noir didn’t miss a chance to take a shot at her. Resting his arm on her head, pretending he didn’t see her coming, ruffling her hair and many more. When they fought Sole Crusher, Chloé’s akumatized sister (being akumatized was a side effect of meeting her, unfortunately, at least that was the most parisian experience she could get on her first day), he would joke about how much harder it would be for the akuma catch her instead of the “normal-sized people”. 

Everytime she would punch him in the closest place she could hit, just a symbolic one (she wouldn’t ever hut him), and then she had to mask the wave of fondness that washed over her as he pretended it was painful and said a “geez, bugaboo, not even Shadow Moth hits this hard, working out too much?”. At school, though, she had other problems.

“Is everything okay, Marinette?” Adrien asked her, looking down at her during the break between math and chemistry. 

“You’re more than okay- I mean, I'm not okay, no, argh. I’m fine, why?” Marinette stammered, trying to not think about how she was at the perfect height to hide her blushing face in his chest.

“You keep looking up at me. Is your neck hurting? Or is something in my hair?”

“Yeah! That's it!”

He frowned. "It 's what?”

“It’s, er, there’s something in your hair!” She lifted her hand to his hair (so! soft!) and ran through it a few times before taking it out. “There, now it’s fine.”

“Thanks, Marinette.” Adrien smiled genuinely and she bit back a gooey sigh. “What was it? In my hair?”

“Just a bug.” She squeaked out, pathetically, but Adrien’s eyes were still soft (fond?), so maybe she didn’t make a complete fool of herself. 

Between the two of them, there was no way she could get more distracted, was what she was thinking. Famous last words. 

It was a Sentimonster with, weirdly enough, no akuma. She hated when he surprised her like that, a new dog learning old tricks. Shadow Moth was usually someone very simple-minded, throwing akumas and sentimonster duos at them with glaring exceptions like Heroes Day. Having a sentimonster with no akuma implied him using new strategies and she didn't appreciate it at all. The Sentimonster, which Chat Noir named Mr. Octi, was a purple giant octopus had sticky tentacles which were impossible to escape.

I'm sorry. Ladybug thought to the civilians caught up in him. Mr. Octi's creepy smile didn't change no matter how much they screamed. 

Distracted as she was, she would have been caught in a purple tentacle if not for the black-clad body that slammed into her and brought her down to a rooftop. Chat Noir turned them around as they hit the concrete, leaving her on top of him.

"Be careful, Ladybug!" He said, carefully cradling her to his chest. 

Even if the suit absorbs most of the impact, she would have winced in sympathy, normally. However, Ladybug had her face pressed into a strong chest as her frantic partner asked if she was okay and stroked her hair. They were strangely aligned, their feet touching and his arms wrapped around her. He smelled fresh (kinda like Adrien the fragrance, actually) and felt warm.

This is nice. She thought, dazed. Maybe Chat Noir wasn't freakishly tall. Maybe… I fit nice here, I think.

"Ladybug?!" His desperate voice broke her out of her trance and she pulled off him like a lightning bolt struck her. "Are you okay?"

"Fine. Great. Dandy." She threw him finger guns and he looked even less convinced. "It's not important! We need to stop the Sentimonster."

When they defeated Mr. Octi and he insisted on checking on her head, it took all her self control to not hide her face on his chest.

It was unfair that Chat Noir of all people was the perfect height for hugging.

[annabethy]

percabeth zoom calls!

“Babe! Do you know where my charger is?”

Annabeth rolls her eyes, adjusting her computer screen so that it was facing her. Percy bangs around in the kitchen some more, for what she suspects is his charger, before he starts cursing, and she suspects he stubbed his toe on the corner of the counter like he’s done five times in the last week.

“Are you okay?” she asks after another minute of loud cursing, poking her head out from his bedroom.

“I’m just getting it all out before the students see.”

Annabeth leans against the doorframe, crossing her arms. “I didn’t know they made you that mad.” Percy snorts, coming up in front of her to wrap him in her arms. He kisses her forehead before responding. “They make me livid.”

“Couldn’t possibly be as terrible as my kids,” she argues, smiling when his lips catch hers. “My calc kids can’t even do simple algebra.”

“I can’t do simple algebra,” he says, biting her lower lip. “That’s why I teach marine.”

“Marine is the most boring thing you could’ve possibly chosen to teach, but okay.”

“Says the walking calculator.”

Annabeth pinches his butt and he yelps.

“That was a compliment!”

“Make it sound like it next time,” she says, retreating back to his room. “I know that you finished teaching for the day, but I haven’t, so stay quiet.”

“That’s no fun.”

“You want to know what’s no fun? Having your students find out that you’re hooking up with their math teacher.”

Percy grins. “Is that what this is? And here I thought we were actually dating.”

“We won’t be if they find out because I will kill you,” Annabeth threatens without malice. She takes a step back to retreat into his room and he takes a step to follow her, which sends alarm shooting through her mind. “What are you doing?”

Percy has an amused smile plastered to his face, and she knows she’s about to be fighting whatever he decides to say next.

“I’m coming with you.”

“Uh, no you’re not.”

“It’s my bedroom.”

“You shouldn’t have invited me then,” Annabeth says, eyeing him as he keeps following her. “What are you, my shadow?”

“I can be whatever you want me to be, baby.”

It’s so disgustingly cheesy but it’s also so disgustingly him that she can’t help but give in as he settles down onto the bed. Percy flips onto his stomach, reaching for the pillow she’d been using the previous night as Annabeth sits at his desk. As he turns his head towards her, his eyes trace over her, and she has to pretend not to notice, as though the red flush of her face didn’t give her away.

Percy’s hand reaches out to squeeze her knee to get her attention, and she feels butterflies in her stomach. They had been together for more than a few months now, and they’d been best friends for quite a while longer, but the way he looks at her never ceased to make her feel this way.

“I’m turning the class on,” she mutters, the corners of her lips twitching up. Percy making a motion to zip his lips, making her snicker.

It’s only a minute before someone’s joining the class and Annabeth’s snickering for an entirely different reason.

“Piper,” Annabeth says, laughing. “What are you wearing?”

“I like to think that I am wearing Gucci,” Piper says, posing over the camera. “What do you think?”

Annabeth has to stifle her laughs at her favorite student. “I think it looks… very original.”

“Why do I feel like that means you think it’s trashy, Ms. Chase? Do you think it’s trashy?”

Annabeth shoves Percy’s head out of frame as he tries to sneak a peek at Piper’s outfit. “To be fair, you are wearing a trash bag.”

“I am insulted that you do not know the difference between a trash bag and a plastic tarp,” Piper says.

Percy grunts as Annabeth shoves him backwards onto the bed again in an attempt to keep him out of camera because she is almost one-thousand percent certain that Piper would recognize him, and considering they were in the middle of a pandemic, Piper would also know that they had been staying together for a while. Annabeth loves Piper, but Piper has zero filter and absolutely will make a comment if she knew.

Eventually, a few more students join, and Annabeth spends time talking to them, trying not to burst out laughing at Percy’s mouthed remarks making fun of her students.

(“Your students are dumb as hell, Annabeth.”

“You are so lucky that we are on mute.”

“How do they even mess up ten plus seven?”

“I literally don’t even know.”)

Annabeth just tries to get through the hour without walking to the kitchen, grabbing a knife, and murdering herself with it. She really loves her calculus students, but someone once said that the smartest people lack the most common sense, and boy, that could not have been more true.

She thinks she’s in the clear. She makes it through the entire lesson without blowing her cover of staying with their teacher, and it’s actually much more exhilarating than she would’ve expected. It was like she was hiding some dirty secret from them as she avoided eye contact behind the camera and tried not to awkwardly jerk around when his hand found its way back onto her knee, delicately tracing shapes.

Annabeth is so close, and just as she’s getting ready to say goodbye, Piper just has to open her big mouth.

“Ms. Chase?”

“Yes, Piper?”

“Can I ask you something personal?”

Annabeth blinks, a sense of dread settling in her stomach. She suddenly feels as though something is about to go very, very wrong. “Depending on what it is, I may or may not answer.”

Over the screen, Piper keeps a straight face, but Annabeth has taught her for over three years, and she recognizes the fire in her eyes.

“Earlier today, I had a class with Mr. Jackson. Did you know I’m in marine science?”

“I did not,” Annabeth says, strained.

“I’m in marine science, and, uh, we had class earlier today over zoom. I was talking to Mr. Jackson for a little bit after.”

“Were you? That’s nice.”

“Yeah, Mr. Jackson is a super nice teacher. I think you’d like him.”

“Do you now?”

“Mh-hm. Anyways, we were talking, and I told him that I liked the painting that was hanging behind him.”

Annabeth freezes.

“It’s the same painting that’s hanging behind you.”

Oh god.

“Do you have something to tell us?” Piper asks.

Annabeth’s ears begin to ring as she realizes that she is inevitably screwed. Of course Piper would have no shame in outing her to the entire class of seniors because that was just how Piper was, but Annabeth should’ve been smart enough not to film in the same spot because she knows her students well enough to know that there is a torment of sex jokes about to come her way.

“You’re looking a little bit red there, Ms. Chase.”

“What exactly are you implying, McLean?”

“Why are you in Mr. Jackson’s apartment?”

Annabeth is so mortified that she cannot move, but Percy seems to be just as shameless as Piper because a second later, he’s hopping into frame, smiling widely at her students.

“Hey, Piper!” Percy chirps.

“Mr. Jackson! So nice to see you! Why is Ms. Chase in your apartment?”

Percy clicks his tongue. “Now, that is a good question, but the most simple answer is that we’re quarantining — is that a word? — together.”

Annabeth sees Leo unmute himself and she immediately drops her face into her hands.

“Well, well, well,” Leo tsks. “I didn’t know we were studying chemistry right now.”

“I will make you do integrals,” Annabeth threatens.

“I’d like to see you try,” Leo has the audacity to say.

Another student unmutes themself and Annabeth recognizes the voice as Reyna’s.

“I am disgusted to find out that my teachers are dating,” Reyna says.

Percy lights up. “Reyna! You haven’t been showing up to my classes!”

“Mr. Jackson! That is because I simply do not care! Also, I would’ve preferred to not know that you two are living together.”

“Me too,” Annabeth mutters.

“Are you dating?” Piper asks. “I’ve always wanted you to date.”

Annabeth’s eye twitches. “I— no, Piper.”

“We’re not?” Percy frowns. “I thought we were.”

“They don’t need to know that,” she hisses.

Percy, always a people pleaser, pointedly kisses her on the cheek. He was always able to brush things off with a laugh, and it’s something that made Annabeth fall in love with him, but right now, it was something she thinks he would be better off without.

“They don’t care,” he dismisses, turning towards the camera. “Yes, we’re dating! We’ve been dating for six months now.”

“I hate you.”

“That’s so cute!” Piper exclaims.

“I want to throw up,” Reyna says.

Leo gives an impish grin. “I felt my relationship senses tingling.”

“Shut up, Leo, no one cares,” Piper says, rolling her eyes. “Ms. Chase! I’m so happy for you! You guys should get married.”

“Way to jump the gun, Piper,” Percy says. “Give us another six months at least.”

“Also, now that we know you two are staying together — we aren’t stupid. We know what adults do when they’re alone, so just try to keep that off camera, ‘kay?”

Annabeth is actually going to drop down to the ground and cry in about two seconds. Piper wasn’t particularly wrong in her assumptions, but Annabeth did not need her students to know about her personal life in this much detail!

“Don’t think we don’t know about what you do when you’re alone with Jason,” Percy teases, and Annabeth actually chokes on air.

“But we’re not teachers—”

“Okay!” Annabeth interrupts, ready for this to be over. The can see the rest of her students screaming in chat, and she does not want to be here to witness this any longer. “I’m going to end this call now. Please never speak of this again.”

“I will bring this up tomorrow!” Piper says cheerfully, waving at them. “I—”

Annabeth clicks off the screen immediately, and the room goes silent.

She stays there with her head buried in her hands for a while, Percy’s hand still running up and down her back. His fingers curl as he scratches her skin languidly, waiting for her to get over her initial embarrassment.

“Oh my god,” Annabeth mumbles into her hands. “That was awful.”

“It wasn’t as bad as you think it was,” he assures.

“They’re never going to let us live this down.”

“They didn’t care,” Percy says, holding back a snicker. “At least now we can kiss in front of them.”

“You’re never getting any more kisses from me,” Annabeth says, standing up from the chair to try and walk the humiliation away.

Percy grabs her wrist, tugging until she looks him in the eyes. “We’ll see about that.”

Annabeth is so flushed that she wants to die, and her students now know about her current living status and have their own conclusions as to what they do when they’re alone, but the way he’s looking at her makes her feel incredible.

She tilts her head as she looks at him and he does the same. There’s a fire in his eyes as he challenges her.

“I’m not going to kiss you right now if that’s what you’re looking for.”

Percy bites his lower lip, whole body shaking with laughter. “You so sure?”

Annabeth takes a step back as Percy takes one forwards. She finds herself cornered against the bed with nowhere to go. She turns back to face Percy, and she only has one second to prepare before he’s grabbing her and falling onto the bed beside her.

“Percy,” she says, jerking around when he started tickling her. “This isn’t — funny!”

Percy kisses her neck, fingers moving her shirt up slightly to grip her sides. “I think it’s hilarious. Your students found out you have a boyfriend. So what? You’re human.”

“Stop,” she says, snorting and jerking again as he squeezes and palms her stomach.

“Kiss me.”

Percy’s fingers stop moving along her skin as he hovers over her, looking deeply into her eyes. She feels so warm and loved, laying here with her best friend, and he’s the complete opposite of her, but maybe it’s for the best. Maybe it’s for moments like this, to balance her out.

And as she kisses him, she thinks that she can complain about her invasive students and cursed zoom calls later because the only thing that matters right now is making sure he keeps kissing her like she’s the only thing in the world.

[firstofficer-williamyiker]

Ok, ok, ok, ok. I am way too focus on this but I really really wanted to list out every Star Trek ship (from TNG, DS9, and VOY cause those are the ones I have seen most of) I could think of and give my opinion on it. Why? Because I don’t wanna do my math test. Lets go down the spiral of hyperfixation and little impulse control. (FYI, this became a long ass post, so read through if you want or don’t lol)

Let’s start from the beginning. 

The Next Generation: (aka gays that all share one smart brain cell) 

Picard x Crusher: Honestly, I like their chemistry, and if it became canon I would be alright with that. No real strong feelings on this ship.

Picard x Q: The epitome of enemies to lovers slow burn in 300k words. The sexual tension is too much to handle, I absolutely adore these two. They probably fucked once and Picard regrets it immeasurably. 

Picard x Riker: Nah, not for me. But you do you dudes.

Riker x Troi: Again, I quite like these two together. Two Bi Icons getting together, I’m here for it. 

Riker x Worf: Eh, Worf isn’t really a fav of mine so that makes me bias against this ship. It cool tho.

Riker x Crusher: *war flashbacks to when Crusher had sex with a Trill worm that was inside currently inside Riker’s body* Haha, fuck no. 

Troi x Crusher: Two queens getting together and tearing down the patriarchy, I stan.

Troi x Tasha: I tend to block out season one of TNG from my mind, but honestly, I like the vibe.

Data x Geordi: My OTP for this show. It should have happened. Rick Berman is a coward. They are just so sweet and they understand each other like no one else. A few of their scenes in this show made me cry. I ship

Data x Tasha: Nah, I don’t vibe. Would have been better as mlm and wlw solidarity. 

Worf x Troi: They had a few cute scenes together in the later seasons, I don’t hate neither super enjoy.

Deep Space Nine: (aka no straights in space)

Sisko x Kasidy: I liked them better in the early seasons. I think the writers low-key forgot about Kasidy until she was convenient plot device. 

Kira x Odo: I preferred it in the first few seasons where Odo had a little crush on Kira and it was kinda adorable. But after their relationship had become canon in the later seasons I was kinda disappointed.

Kira x Jadzia: I am here for this ship, two powerful women ready to take on the world together but also have their own insecurities that come up as the situation arises. Immaculate, I want it.

Dukat x Kira: Fuck no, they are enemies. Idk why the DS9 writers thought it would be a great idea to pair THESE two together. But thank god for Nana Visitor for being such a queen. 

Odo x Quark: Again, another amazing enemies to lovers ship. I love seeing those two on screen together, their chemistry is just *chef’s kiss*.

Miles x Keiko: Miles is like, the token heterosexual on this show. He loves his wife, his kids, and his job.

Bashir x Garak: Fuck yeah, OTP of this show for me gang. It was so heavily implied and it would have been so cool to see, especially in the 90s. But oh well, at least we got the actors writing and performing fanfiction for us.

Bashir x Jadzia: Yeah no, I wouldn’t ship them romantically. And the writers definetly did not favors to Bashir when they make his crush on her a bit creepy in the early seasons. But would be a BROTP for me.

Bashir x Ezri: Hnng, I don’t like. It just feels like Bashir is trying to date the Jadzia he never had and I don’t like it.

Jadzia x Worf: It’s fine, I guess. I don’t really see the chemistry.

Ezri x Jake: I mean, it’s better than Ezri x Bashir, but like, Dax has known Jake over 3 lifetimes and watched him grow up soooo, nah.

Jake x Ziyal: I am a fan. I think these two would have been really cool together especially since they are both artistic people with Jake’s writing and Ziyal’s painting. They could have done some really cool stuff together. Plus, it would make some interesting family reunion moments between Dukat and Sisko hehe.

Jake x Nog: Again, I am a fan. Tol and smol dynamics are what I am here for.

Garak x Ziyal: No

Voyager: (aka gays lost in space)

Janeway x Chakotay: The of the few straight ships I would die for. I am quite disappointed that nothing ever formed between the two because it would have been really cute and oh my god the tension the writers made between the two. I feel baited for this ship, AND IT’S A STRAIGHT SHIP! I’m sorry I have feelings about this. 

Janeway x Seven: Not a top ship of mine but I definitely see the chemistry here and I support it. 

Janeway x Paris: I only bring this up because in like season 1 or 2 they have axolotl children together because the writers were probably high as a kite when they came up with this idea for an episode. But a hard pass. 

Janeway x Coffee: I’m pretty sure this is already canon and I stan. 

Chakotay x Seven: I haven’t completely finished Voyager yet but I heard that this is the endgame for the two and WTF. I don’t see or understand it and it makes me upset, like really upset.

Chakotay x B’elanna: I’m just glad this wasn’t canon. I more just bring it up because I remembered B’elanna had a crush on Chakotay in the early seasons before Tom. And like, I get it because if Chakotay was my commanding officer I’d probably crush too girl. 

B’elanna x Paris: It’s a canon ship that I honestly kinda like. There are some moments where I’m like “oh no” and other where I’m like “YES”. But overall, I enjoy it. I just feel like there is something missing.

Paris x Kim: Fuck yea, I love these two together. Two bros turned lovers I am fucking here for it my dudes. But again, I feel like there is something else missing here.

B’elanna x Paris x Kim: Oh hell yea, I found what was missing. This is my personal OTP of Voyager. In my head I think Kim and B’elanna are just really close friends who do engineering things together. While Paris is in the corner, loving them both, but also setting the Delta Flyer on fire for the third time this week. I haven’t really looked into the Voyager tag (because spoilers) so idk if this is a popular ship. But I think they all have some really fun chemistry and I enjoy it. 

Paris x Delta Flyer: This just came to my head 20 seconds ago as I wrote the last one but I’m pretty sure this one is already canon. 

Kim x Seven: Nah

Seven x The Doctor: Hmm, do I dislike it as much as I do Seven x Chakotay? No, I do not. But do I like it that much? No, no I do not. I ship them as friends.

Tuvok x Nelix: No, not really. Opposites attract is not really my cup of tea all the time.

Nelix x Kes: Oh damn, I almost forgot about Kes. I know this is canon but where did this come from. The writers NEVER EXPLAIN IT! And then they never explain why the later broke up. I just... I just don’t understand. 

I doubt I have covered every ship, these were just the ones that came to me while writing this. Also, these are just my personal opinions please don’t come for my knees.

[nano--raptor]

Random Facts with Beck

Pairing: Chris Beck x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, silliness, slight cursing, implied smut, pre-smut, slight angst/alluding to heavy matters.

Word count: 1376

A/N: This got a little longer and more domestic than I planned, but I hope you enjoy! Also, don’t come at me if they don’t make tea in space, I didn’t look that much into it. Random facts and other info courtesy of asking google for them, as well as here!

Written for @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ with this prompt from @prunes-said-bucky​​ 

-----

No one said being in space would be easy, you knew that from the start. Thankfully you had great chemistry with all the crew, but it didn’t stop the homesickness and the feelings of hopelessness that started setting in. Being alone in outer space and on an alien planet with only six other humans definitely took a toll.

You and the rest of the crew had become closer than family. You’d all had your share of ups and downs, as well as chances to help pick each other up. The guys had been great, and it was awesome to have other women on board with you. But the one who surprised you the most was Chris. While the other guys were friendly and goofy, Chris seemed to go out of his way to make the others, and you especially, smile. He’d draw smiley faces on the whiteboard, even if someone was using it, or on the windows, or on the airlock doors (which Lewis hated), he’d bring you coffee in the morning, or he’d randomly interrupt silences with random facts.

“Did you guys know that penguins can drink salt water?” You looked up at him from your calculations, he sat casually in his chair at the table, absently doodling something in his notebook.

“Really?”

“Mm-hm, it helps them survive with limited access to fresh water.”

“Huh… that’s interesting.” You went back to your math, trying to work out the various equations to do with the weather and temperature of Mars.

“Isn’t it?”

“Wouldn’t that be handy for space travel…” Martinez piped up from the kitchen area.

“Assuming the water, if we even find any, is salt water.” Beck pointed his pen at him, making one of his goofy faces that always made you smile to yourself. You tried to keep it hidden, but you were pretty sure you felt Chris’ eyes on you. You felt yourself blushing and he continued. “They don’t convert the saltwater though, they just remove the salt from their blood more efficiently than we can.”

“Wow,” Martinez mused as he sat down at the table with his laptop. “Random-ass facts with Beck, everyone.” Chris grinned and held out his hands to accept the appreciation.

“I’m here all week. All mission in fact.” You groaned, but couldn’t keep the small smile off your face, and he winked back at you. The room fell silent for a while, but now you just couldn’t keep penguins off your mind.

“Dammit Beck, now all I can think about are penguins…” He laughed out loud, the sound sending warmth rushing through you.

“Which one is your favorite?” At your confused expression, he went on to list different breeds. On and on and on.

“Emperor penguin, african penguin, adelie penguin, chinstrap penguin, galapagos penguin, king penguin -”

“Dude,” Martinez tried to cut him off, shoving his shoulder from across the table. Beck laughed again and continued.

“Australian little penguin, gentoo, yellow-eyed, royal,” he dodged another swipe. “And don’t forget the rockhopper penguins.” Martinez threw a marker at him now, just as Commander Lewis walked into the room.

“What’s going on here?” she demanded, although there was a softness in her voice which made you grin again. “Martinez apparently doesn’t like penguins.” Beck quipped through his laughter. Lewis opened her mouth to respond, but then closed it, just shaking her head and looking to you with a raised eyebrow. You shrugged, rolling your eyes about the guys, and stood to meet her at the counter. “Tea?” She accepted, leaning against the counter as you started to prepare the drink.

“So? How’re you doing?” You shrugged again and handed her one of the mugs. “Okay. Can’t get this simulation to work out, but we’ll get there.” She smiled and held your gaze, saying more with her eyes than her words did, in front of the others.

“Well if you need anything, you let me know okay?” You returned her smile, thinking back to some of the late night conversations you’d had with her.

“Will do, Commander.” Lewis smiled again and lingered for just a moment, before taking her tea and leaving the common space.

“Boys.” They watched her go before breaking into a fit of giggles. You rolled your eyes again but sipped your tea, happy for the camaraderie. 

-----

Later that night you were just about to switch off your light and go to sleep when there was a light knock on your door. You opened it slightly to see Chris standing on the opposite side, dressed in a t-shirt and sweats.

“Hey you,” he greeted you quietly. “Can I come in?” You smiled softly and took his hand, gently pulling him into your room. “Of course.” You closed the door and then turned to him, pulling him towards you and brushing your lips against his. His hands fell to your waist and pulled you close, one hand raising to your chin and pulling you into a kiss, gentle and comforting. You took it all in, his warm hands and body against yours, soft lips, long eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks. It warmed you from the inside out which was exactly what you needed these days. The kiss broke and Chris leaned his forehead against yours.

“You doin’ okay?” His question echoed your commander’s from earlier, and held just as much weight. You and Chris had grown close during the mission, starting with easy conversation, and eventually growing much closer. You spent most nights together too, and it was a comfort that you were falling for, as much as you were falling for him.

“I’m okay. It just... Creeps in sometimes, you know?”

“I know,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head and pulling you close. “It’s lonely as hell out here. We’ve got an amazing crew but we’re still only a handful of people.” You hummed and leaned your heat against his chest, listening to the soothing thump of his heartbeat, letting your eyes drift close. “Come lie down.” Chris stripped his t-shirt off and crawled into the small bed, while you turned off the light and snuggled in next to him. He drew small circles on your shoulder and you did the same on his chest. His steady breathing and heartbeat helped soothe you. A lazy calm was falling over you, and you were just about to try and find his lips again when his voice broke the silence. 

“I failed to mention earlier that there are three different types of Rockhopper penguins…” “Chris, oh my god! That does not turn me on!”

“What? Random facts aren’t sexy?” He feigned hurt, and you giggled and squeaked as he pulled you close to him, wrapping his arms around you and capturing your lips. “I mean... they’re interesting... but no,” you answered in between kisses. His lips trailed down your throat and back again, as his hands found their way under your sleep shirt, fingering the edge of your underwear, and trailing up over your stomach to brush against the curve of your breasts. Your soft gasps soon filled the room as he held you tighter, kissed you harder, rolled his hips against yours. You needed him to get on with it already. You loved the build up so much, but you soon felt like you might burst if you didn’t get him inside of you already. You pushed yourself against him, rolling him onto his back, and straddled his hips. He moaned as you scooted lower and trailed your hands down his chest and abs, lightly brushing against the waistband of his sweats before slowly sliding them down. 

Chris growled and flipped you back over, hovering over you as he kicked the sweats off. He inched your shirt up over your head, trailing his lips along your stomach and chest. His hardness pressed against your thigh and you squirmed, aching for him already. He smiled against your skin and slowed his pace, slowly pressing kisses to your throat until his lips were right beside your ear.

“Did you know that zebras are black with white stripes, not white with black stripes?”

“Fuck sakes Chris! I am begging you. Either fuck me, or shut up!” You couldn’t help but grin as he laughed out loud and wrapped himself around you.

-----

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Pants on Fire

Ladybug AU/ After Lila decides that Adrien's implied threat has no teeth and decides not to walk back on her claims about Marinette, Marinette stays expelled. But she has absolutely no intention to let things stay that way.

Soon enough, Lila will wish that she had taken Adrien's easy way out.

links in the reblog

Across the street, the school bell rang, and the last of the Françoise Dupont students cleared off of the sidewalk and into the building. From her balcony, Marinette could see her old classmates in their homeroom, gradually making their way to their desks. Lila was still sitting in the back, but Marinette didn't doubt that before long, she would have taken over Marinette's old seat.

Day three of her expulsion from Dupont, and Marinette was (rightfully) no less bitter about it now than she had been three days ago.

Seriously, how was it fair that she got expelled without any sort of investigation? How was it legal? How had her teachers and principal even believed that Marinette would do anything like what Lila had claimed?

Did Lila have secret brain-draining superpowers that no one had found out about yet? That was the only thing that she could think of.

"At least Adrien tried to get Lila to come clean," Tikki offered as her Chosen clambered down from her balcony and headed for her desk. "I mean, I know it didn't work because Lila is too stubborn, but..."

"At least he tried," Marinette finished. She was really grateful for that, honestly. When Adrien had stopped over to check in on her the previous day, he had sounded super frustrated. Apparently Lila had somehow gotten herself invited to his photoshoots and he had confronted her then, trying to bargain the appearance of his friendship to get Lila to walk back her claims about Marinette. At the time, Lila had seemed to agree, but she hadn't followed through afterwards.

Count Marinette not surprised. If Lila walked back on any of her claims, well, that meant that all of her other claims would be questioned, and she would not want to open that door. Even if that meant irritating Adrien.

"And at least someone at Dupont knows that it was Lila's fault," Marinette added with a sigh. Not that it did anything, really, since no one would listen to Adrien, but it was still nice. "And at least he's planning on coming over again and talking to my parents today, so that they aren't just going on my word that I didn't actually do any of the stuff Lila accused me of. But that doesn't get me un-expelled."

"Well, if you can't do anything about it, maybe we should just brush it off and move on," Tikki suggested. "Mulling over it isn't going to help, and if an akuma comes again-"

Marinette hid her scowl and reached for her remote, flipping her monitor from computer screen to TV to drown out the rest of Tikki's words. She knew that it wasn't a good thing that an akuma had actually managed to get as far as corrupting her purse, even if Marinette had still had enough control at the time to start taking her earrings out so that Tikki could fly away with them. Tikki didn't have to keep reminding her that getting akumatized wouldn't be good. Marinette knew that.

(Marinette was this close to going to Master Fu without Tikki and talking to him about her kwami's constant scolding. Marinette knew that her duties as Ladybug were important, but what about the girl under Ladybug's mask? Didn't her feelings matter, too? What was she supposed to do, take a train out to the countryside so that she was out of Hawkmoth's range and only let her emotions out there? Be an emotionless robot until Hawkmoth was defeated? No thank you.)

"Don't be bemused, it's just the news!" Nadja Chamack was saying on-screen, beaming into the camera as Marinette pulled up her first lesson of the day on her tablet. "In today's news, we have extended coverage from the most recent akuma battle, updates from the mayor on proposed new recycling initiatives, and much, much more!"

Madam Chamack chatted on as Marinette started reading through her first class's lesson, determined to at least stay on top of her studies and not let herself fall behind. The online school she had gotten herself enrolled in for the time being was flexible enough that if she got a little behind schedule because of an akuma attack it wouldn't be too big of an issue, but there was no point starting off on the wrong foot.

Besides, if she could work ahead, then she could maybe have some more free time to try to make some progress on tracking down Hawkmoth. That would be making the most out of her situation, at least, and then she would be in a better position to focus on improving her designs and sewing techniques so that she could start developing a portfolio while she was in lycée.

Tikki finally settled down across the room, fiddling with some of Marinette's extra thread and beads while Marinette worked her way through the day's Literature lesson, then Math and Civics and Chemistry. The TV kept playing in the background, muted only when Marinette needed to listen to a video for her schoolwork on her tablet.

"Morning classes done ahead of schedule," Marinette said cheerfully as soon as she finished her last electron drawing. "And homework for them finished at the same time, not that there was much homework to do to start with. Time for a break, I think."

"It is almost time for lunch," Tikki agreed, flying over to join her. "You wouldn't be getting out for another half-hour at Dupont, but you've been working hard! And normally, you would have breaks between classes."

"Mm-hmm." Marinette glanced back up at her computer monitor to glance at the time, then did a double-take when she saw the screen. "Hey, I remember hearing something about this before! Tikki, can you turn up the volume?"

"-the continued fallout from the plagiarism scandal at Paris's famed university for the arts," Madam Chamack said onscreen as Tikki bumped the volume. "Another professor has been linked to the scam, which came to light after a student discovered the plagiarism. After the faculty member that she brought her concerns to didn't do anything about the issue, the student, who wishes to remain unidentified, did her own digging and found enough evidence to go straight to the police."

Marinette froze, eyes fixed on the screen as Madam Chamack kept talking, telling her viewers the timeline of what had been discovered so far. There was a lot, with faculty members at the university trying to sweep the problem under the rug all because of some rich donors who wanted to keep the flow of ideas coming to them. Three attempts from the student to let professors and administrators know that it was happening had all been swept aside with empty assurances and nothing had happened.

No one had expected the stubborn student, armed with facts and evidence to the point where she could directly get the police involved.

And Marinette's brain went aha.

There was plenty of evidence out there that Lila was lying, if only people bothered to look. The looking had been the issue at school, with everyone just taking Lila at her word instead of actually looking for themselves. Marinette didn't doubt that Lila had taken at least some steps to cover her steps- forging her mother's signature, probably, and giving incorrect email addresses that would divert to any emails to her mother to a mimic email that Lila could control- but that didn't mean that they just had to take that at face value!

But if Marinette compiled a whole pile of evidence, then- well, Marinette wasn't going to kid herself into saying that that would solve everything, either. Knowing the discipline that was given at her school, Lila would probably get a tap on the hand as punishment, and everything would get swept under the rug. But if Marinette got evidence, and then went to the proper authorities so that Ms. Buster and Mr. Damocles were forced to act, well...

That might be the exact thing she needed.

  Adrien wasn't sure what to expect when he headed over to the Dupain-Cheng bakery after school. He had waited until most of the other students had cleared off before leaving, so that Lila wouldn't see him going over and try to mess things up even more, then ducked into the bakery itself.

He had told the Gorilla that he was studying at the school for a couple hours, so hopefully he wouldn't be interrupted.

"Good afternoon, Adrien," Mrs. Cheng greeted him. She didn't sound as upbeat as she usually did, which wasn't much of a surprise considering that Marinette's expulsion was still fresh. "What can I get for you today?"

"I wanted to talk to you, actually," Adrien told her, glancing around the bakery. The collège student rush had passed, and now there was only a businessman perusing the shelves of baked goods. "About what happened earlier this week-"

Mrs. Cheng's shoulders stiffened, and her smile became a bit more wooden. "I appreciate the concern, Adrien, but-"

"Lila's a liar," Adrien blurted before she could wave him out of the bakery. "She's been making up stories left and right about knowing all these famous people ever since she arrived in Paris, and she's had it out for Marinette from the start because Marinette never fell for her lies."

Mrs. Cheng blinked at him, clearly perplexed. "Are you sure that Lila is making up her stories? Alya dropped by for a couple minutes yesterday and she seemed certain that Marinette was just jealous."

Adrien only just barely resisted the urge to snort. Marinette, jealous? Marinette was possibly the most connected person in their class, if he didn't count the connections that he and Chloe had just because of who their parents were. She designed things for Jagged Stone on at least a semi-regular basis, and Clara Nightingale knew her and liked her, and his father had complimented Marinette's designs. "I'm positive, Mrs. Cheng. Lila claimed to be Ladybug's best friend right after she first arrived in Paris, and I was there when Ladybug confronted Lila about lying. And Lila claimed that she once saved Jagged Stone's kitten on an airplane tarmac and so he's a huge fan of hers, and Marinette knows Jagged Stone. She knows that Jagged never had a kitten. And if Lila was making that up, the probability of everything else being a lie, too..."

Mrs. Cheng's expression turned pensive.

"Besides, the pendant that Lila claimed was her grandmother's is actually from my father's latest jewelry line," Adrien added. "It's a replica of the Fox Miraculous, and she bought it shortly after she arrived in Paris. And Lila claimed to have injured her ankle from falling down the stairs, but as soon as there isn't any attention on her, she's walking just fine. And the foot that she's 'favoring' keeps switching."

"And the teachers didn't notice that, or investigate?" Mrs. Cheng asked, the doubt in her voice finally starting to vanish. "It's what they're meant to do, surely."

Adrien could only shrug. He wasn't sure why Marinette's expulsion had been rushed, unless... "Lila told us that her mom's an Italian diplomat. They might have just not wanted to cause an incident."

Mrs. Cheng muttered something under her breath that Adrien didn't entirely catch, but it sounded rather like "I'll show them an incident."

...if Mrs. Cheng was going to storm over to the school to throw hands with Mr. Damocles, Adrien wanted to be there.

"Thank you for letting me know, Adrien," Mrs. Cheng finally said after a couple of seconds had passed. "I didn't want to doubt Marinette, because the accusations didn't sound like her, but I was putting too much faith in the teachers, it seems. That, and the fact that Alya seems to like Lila... well, that was a bit confusing."

Adrien nodded. He could understand that.

"You can go up to see Marinette, if you want," Mrs. Cheng added after another pause. "I mean, if she's working on her schoolwork then don't disturb her, but I'm sure she would enjoy seeing you otherwise."

"Thank you, Mrs. Cheng."

"And here, have a cookie on your way up, I know these are your favorite."

Adrien lit up as he accepted the treat. "Thank you, Mrs. Cheng!"

That mission accomplished, Adrien headed up the stairs with a bounce in his step. It seemed like Mrs. Cheng had believed him, which would hopefully help repair any strain that had appeared in the relationship between Marinette and her parents. He wasn't sure if Marinette's parents would be able to get through to Mr. Damocles any better than he had- Adrien had tried talking to their principal again today between classes, only to get immediately brushed off- but it was at least a step in the right direction.

Even with a fresh cookie to munch on, it didn't take Adrien long to reach the Dupain-Cheng living room. Marinette's trap door was propped partway open, so he headed, up, keeping his steps quiet in case she was still trying to study. Up above, he could hear Marinette's voice, a low murmur as though she were absentmindedly talking to herself.

"Okay, so either Lila was lying about her mom being an ambassador, or the pictures that she showed us of her with her mom were photoshopped," Marinette was musing aloud when Adrien popped his head in her room behind her, going completely unnoticed. She was sitting in front of the computer, intently focused on something onscreen. It didn't sound like schoolwork, though, so Adrien slipped through her open trapdoor and into her room. "Which would make sense, if she didn't want us recognizing her mom out on the street and saying anything about all of her lies, but how good would she have to be at Photoshop, really?"

"This doesn't sound like schoolwork," Adrien teased, making Marinette yelp and startle before spinning to face him. "Your mom said not to disturb you if you were still doing your lessons, but is it safe to say you've finished?"

"Finished and then some," Marinette agreed, waving him over. "Right now, I'm finding evidence."

Adrien bounced up, at her side in a moment, instantly curious. "Evidence? That Lila's lying, I'm guessing, just based on what I just overheard."

"Exactly." Marinette waved at her screen. "And right now, what I'm finding is that Mrs. Rossi isn't an ambassador. Not unless she has a different last name than Lila and isn't the same person that Lila showed us in her photos."

"I- what?" Adrien leaned over, scanning the computer screen. Marinette let him, scrolling down to let him see the rest of the page, which was apparently from the Italian Embassy's site and showed all of their top staff. Sure enough, there was no sign of the woman whose picture Lila had shown them of her mom. "That's just- wow. Uh, do any of them have, like, personal descriptions at all? You know, like get-to-know-me pages?"

Marinette shook her head. "I've already checked. They're all very professional, no personal information in sight. Which doesn't surprise me, really. I mean, if there are people out there who might have a bone to pick with the embassy for some reason, you don't want too much personal information online."

Adrien opened his mouth, then closed it. He hadn't thought of that. He also didn't understand why someone might have an issue with an ambassador to the point of wanting to target their family, but if Marinette thought that that might be an issue, then he would believe her.

"So that's a dead end for the time being," Marinette told him. "Which is fine, really, because I got a job description of what ambassadors do, which isn't what Lila has been telling people, and then this is evidence that either she's lied about her mom being an ambassador, or she's lying about what her mom looks like-"

"Or she's lying about which country her mom is ambassador for," Adrien finished. He shrugged when she gave him a dubious look. "I mean, it's possible! Then the teachers wouldn't know which embassy to contact."

"I guess. I hadn't thought of that."

"D'you think it's enough to make Mr. Damocles undo your suspension?" Adrien asked, stepping back to snag Marinette's extra chair and pulling it over to sit next to her. "Because I mean, it feels a little mean to say it, but... he sometimes doesn't seem the sharpest? And I just worry that he might try to say that Lila's other lies don't matter, just because of what they 'found' in your bag and locker."

Marinette ducked her head, clearly trying to hide a giggle. Adrien was glad that he could amuse her, at least. "I'm not planning on going over with just a little evidence. Lila could probably lie her way out of that. I want to find a ton of evidence and actually get other authorities involved. Like, Lila definitely was skipping class without permission, and there are such things as truancy officers."

...this was starting to sound serious. Like, really serious.

"That seems like a lot of work that you shouldn't have to do, Marinette," Adrien pointed out, suddenly worried for his friend. He knew that Marinette had a tendency to overwork herself, and with all of the additional stress of getting expelled, that didn't seem like a good idea. "Are you sure-"

"That I want to spend time on it? Definitely," Marinette finished. "I'm not sitting by and letting Lila get away with expelling me. It'll go on my permanent school record- getting expelled, and the cheating and the stairs and the stealing from another student. Once I get to lycée and go back to a traditional school, the teachers won't trust me at all." Her expression became determined. "So if the adults won't step up and help, then I'll make it so that they can't not help."

...Adrien hadn't thought of that before. Being expelled from the school that Marinette had gone to for years and from classmates that she had known for even longer was bad enough on its own. But the effects didn't just stop there, and that had to suck. Like, a lot.

(Adrien was going to ask Plagg to destroy Lila's homework, he really was. Maybe it was petty, but in comparison to what Lila had done? It was nothing.)

"Ooh, yeah, I didn't think about that." Adrien scooted closer, glancing at her for permission before snagging her notebook to look at her list of lies. There... well, there were a lot of them. He had kind of tuned Lila out after a point, so to be honest, he didn't remember all of them. One of the topmost bullet points caught his eye, though, and Adrien frowned in confusion. "You're trying to disprove her being abroad using her Skyping? How is that meant to work?"

Marinette grinned, perking up and snagging her tablet from next to the computer. "Yeah, I took pictures of her when she was Skyping us, and they're clear enough to make out the background behind her." She tapped a couple spots on her screen, then turned it to face Adrien. Sure enough, there was an entire folder of pictures of Lila Skyping them from a whole bunch of different places. "Aside from the fact that she definitely wouldn't get enough Internet to get be able to call us from the street- or good enough cell service to get that clear of a photo- there's no people or cars in the background. Of very main streets. Ever."

Adrien's jaw dropped, and he stared at her in admiration. He had suspected that Lila wasn't telling the full truth, of course, but he had mostly thought that she was lying about who she was meeting, not necessarily where she was. But Marinette was absolutely right. "Wow, Marinette. I didn't- I didn't even think of that! You're brilliant. So what was she in front of, then? Posters?"

Marinette nodded. "I think so. I did a little bit of searching at the time, and if she had used a greenscreen, then she would have risked a little distorted halo showing up around her. Either way, she had to get the picture from the backdrop somewhere, and I want to find it. How I'll do that I don't know, exactly, but I'll figure it out."

"Brilliant." Adrien gave her another admiring glance before turning his attention back to her list. Marinette was a lot like Ladybug, really. She noticed details that no one else did, and could pick out when things were even a little out of place. It was a talent for sure, and one that Adrien honestly wished he had.

But he didn't, so he would have to content himself with helping out the most fantastic girls in his life in whatever ways he could.

Which, at the moment, could very well be using his connections.

"I actually have Prince Ali's contact information," Adrien commented as he noticed one specific bullet point on the list. Lila had told several stories about being in contact with Prince Ali and organizing charities and events with him. Connections with an actual prince was a undeniable attention-getter, so her fascination with him was no real surprise. "We've not been in contact that often, but my father had him and his assistant over while they were in Paris. There was an idea that there might be some collaboration or publicity with Gabriel that fell through, but, well..." Adrien shrugged, bashful. "Neither of us had that many friends at that time, so we exchanged numbers. I can text him and ask about Lila's claims and if he has any suggestions for sites to look at to back up his claims." He flashed a smile at Marinette. "Because I bet we don't just want word-of-mouth, right? Since emails can be modified or faked."

Marinette looked thrilled. "Right! And I'm so glad you have a way to contact Prince Ali, because I figured- well, I figured that those lies would be the most difficult ones to disprove, since Achu seems to keep him fairly sheltered from the media and not that much information about his life gets out."

"They do, but I'm pretty sure that Prince Ali does have some official pages with information on his projects." Adrien pulled out his phone, shooting a quick text to Prince Ali before tucking it back in his pocket and turning his full attention back to Marinette. He had the better part of an hour left before the Gorilla would come looking for him, and he wanted to use that time to help Marinette as much as he could. "Okay. What else do you have on your list?"

  Things were coming together faster than Marinette had expected, she had to admit. Only days after she started collecting evidence, her parents' last lingering doubts about the validity of any of the claims against her had vanished, they had told Madam Chamack and she was preparing a story to break once Marinette said the word, and on top of that, they now had a lawyer who had listened to Marinette's detailing of everything that had happened at school. They were preparing a lawsuit against the school, because absolutely none of the required procedures for expulsion had been followed.

Like, literally none. The accusations had been flimsy and all coming from one other student, and they hadn't been investigated at all. There had been no consideration of how likely the accusations were given Marinette's stellar history, and no calling in Lila's mother to discuss the accusations. There was absolutely no sense of any procedure being followed, and considering how much behavior from Chloe the school had let slide before, well...

The favoritism there was astounding, and they couldn't let it stand.

Marinette smiled at the reminder of that meeting as she navigated her way though her online school's portal. It was really nice to have so much support from adults, after months and months and months at school where people hadn't listened to her about Lila, hadn't done anything about Chloe, had told her that really, it isn't as big of a problem as you're making it out to be.

It was a big problem, and people weren't addressing it correctly, and that was going to be fixed. It was unfortunate that it had gotten to the point where lawsuits had to get involved, but things couldn't just be allowed to continue as they were.

And this time, it wasn't entirely up to Marinette to end it. The adults would take care of all of the legal stuff, and if Marinette decided that she was tired of dealing with the situation entirely, then that didn't mean that Lila would get away with things.

Which was nice to know, even if Marinette had no intention of excusing herself from the whole thing. Lila had made life exceedingly difficult for Marinette; now, Marinette wanted to look Lila in the eye while grinding all of her lies into the ground.

...maybe she shouldn't be so focused on revenge when she was a superhero, but honestly, Lila had it coming.

Smiling to herself, Marinette clicked a couple few more times before reaching her target page. It loaded quickly, the title of her class and her current unit at the top of the page, with a little bar below it showing where she was compared to where she was meant to be.

Marinette had started slightly behind schedule- Dupont had apparently fallen behind the national standards schedule, probably because of akuma attacks interrupting their days- and now she had caught up in most subjects and already had started edging ahead in a couple classes, including this particular one.

Civics. Unit: Foreign Relations

Unit project: Create a product- a poster, a paper, or a film- on a country of your choice, documenting their relationship with France, current and historical. Exact requirements, due dates, and minimum lengths detailed below.

It wasn't a mistake that Marinette had pushed herself to get ahead in this particular class. She had looked ahead and seen this particular project coming up and, well, filming some interviews at the Italian Embassy sounded like it would fit the bill perfectly.

"Do you really think that that's necessary at this point, Marinette?" Tikki asked from where she was perched on Marinette's sewing machine. "I mean, you have enough evidence to prove that Lila has hardly been truthful and shouldn't be trusted, and even if she tries to wriggle her way out of it, it's not going to work. Not with a truancy officer alerted and on her trail. Once an accusation has been filed, they will investigate it until they're satisfied. It's going to take more than a couple fake tears and excuses for them to drop it."

"Honestly, this bit is mostly because I'm still curious." Marinette sat back in her chair, scanning over the project guidelines. "Like, I know that Lila needed a backstory that would make it plausible that she could have met a bunch of famous people and be traveling all of the time, but why the Italian Embassy? Was that picture really of her mom? I just- I want to nose around a little. Besides, more evidence is always a good thing, and it doubles as a school assignment, too!"

"A school assignment that isn't due for weeks," Tikki pointed out. "You know what your mom told you, about not burning yourself out by overworking!"

Marinette shrugged, even as she made a few notes about things that she would have to do before filming- looking up some basic history about France-Italian relations, reaching out to a couple ambassadors to see if she could interview them, and seeing if she could check out some decent video camera and microphone equipment from the library were on the top of her list, along with coming up with questions that would hit all of the needed points plus a couple extra. "I mean, I think I'll be fine, especially because, well, I don't think I'm going to get invited to any get-togethers with the girls this week. Alya seemed pretty ticked with me when she left yesterday. So I'll have a lot of free time, probably."

Tikki made a face at that. "I suppose. But you still have Adrien coming over every day! It's not like you aren't speaking to any of your old classmates."

Marinette ducked her head, unable to hide her smile. Adrien had been spending a lot of time with her, and every afternoon they spent together made it that much easier for her to speak to him and see the time as hanging out as friends, not as a potential lead-up to a date. She could enjoy their time together fully, instead of being strung out and on edge.

It didn't take long for Marinette to get fully back into her schoolwork, continuing her slow edging forward ahead of the schedule. Despite her kwami's (and her mother's) worries, she really wasn't overworking herself. Pushing herself, maybe, but really, all Marinette was doing was putting her best foot forward and going at her own pace. It was just that her own pace was fast.

It was just that in class, they always had to slow down when someone didn't understand what was going on, which- well, in some classes, it could be pretty often. Then there were disruptions from people asking questions (or making comments about the famous people they had "met" that were somehow meant to be relevant to whatever they were doing) or having arguments, and the time spent handing out and collecting papers. There were breaks between classes, and even some classes where they ended up with extra, wasted time at the end of their class when they finished something early and didn't have enough time to start something new. That added up to a lot of time, it turned out, and with someone who was properly motivated, getting ahead in classes was a piece of cake.

Marinette was properly motivated. So motivated, in fact, that she completely missed Adrien calling her name from downstairs before coming up into her room, hair in disarray with sweat after his fencing lesson and backpack slung haphazardly over his shoulder.

"That doesn't look familiar. You must have passed us, then."

Marinette yelped, startling and whipping around. Adrien just looked amused at her reaction, pulling up his usual chair next to her. "Am I right?"

"Yeah, I'm working ahead," Marinette admitted, glancing back at her screen. "It gives me something to do. And when the curriculum was made, I think they factored in some interruptions during class, and I don't really have that. I mean, we had a meeting with a lawyer today, but that was kind of over lunch anyway so I didn't fall behind."

Adrien blinked, puzzled. "A lawyer?"

"My mom was talking to Madam Chamack, because they're friends, and she said that it would be the best idea," Marinette told him. "It'll get my expulsion cleared for sure, and will address some of the ongoing problems at the school."

A flash of uncertainty crossed Adrien's face and he started worrying at his lip. "So Ms. Bustier and Mr. Damocles will be getting in trouble, too, not just Lila?"

She had suspected that Adrien might have trouble with that. Marinette had too, because she had known Ms. Bustier for years now and for the most part, had enjoyed her as a teacher. But, well, it was impossible to ignore all of the serious missteps that Ms. Bustier had made. "Yeah. But if it was just Lila getting in trouble, then what happens down the road if another liar shows up, or just another bully in general, and they just keep doing the same thing where there aren't any punishments? I could handle it, but I couldn't always, and, well..."

"And not everyone is as resilient and brave as you," Adrien finished, the uncertainly on his face starting to ebb away. "And not everyone is as willing as you to stand up and fight, or help classmates. I know if it was me that Lila had targeted, I- well, I might try protesting, but I don't think it would go very far. I would end up homeschooled again for sure, and never get to go back to public school again."

"I think the rest of us would protest, and I would definitely go after Lila just like I am now," Marinette assured him. "But for kids in the future who might not have that- well, I don't want injustice to go unchecked. I'm not going to be surprised if someone gets akumatized over this, but better one or two people now than a whole slew of people in the future."

Adrien nodded, letting out a slow breath. "Yeah. Yeah, I can understand that. It makes sense, I was just surprised." He worried his lip, then perked up. "Oh, I meant to tell you right away- I think that Madam Mendeleev has caught on that Lila isn't telling the truth, because she isn't being as lenient with Lila as she used to be. She's not giving any accommodations whenever Lila tries to claim that she needs them because of some condition or another, and she's told Lila off about story time in her classroom."

Marinette giggled. "Oh, I would love to see that. I bet Lila is pretty mad about that."

"She's whined plenty, but I don't think that it's going to do much. Not if she doesn't have a doctor's note to back all of her 'conditions' up, and not when Madam Mendeleev has actually had students with some of the conditions that Lila has claimed before." Adrien grinned. "The look on Lila's face at that- oh, you should have been there. Al- some of the other classmates were scandalized that she was questioning a medical condition, and there was a whole thing- actually, I can see how you're getting so far ahead of us," Adrien interrupted himself with a snort. "Ten minutes of class, gone, just because of, uh, people pulling up sources on accommodating disabilities and trying to talk over Madam Mendeleev until they got sent to the office."

"Why do I get the feeling that you were referring to Alya?" Marinette asked with a sigh and a roll of her eyes. "Now she decides to go for her sources. She won't even entertain the idea of looking up sources for Lila's claims or for some of the stuff she posts on the Ladyblog, but the moment that someone questions Lila..."

Adrien quirked an eyebrow at her. "Should- should I ask?"

"Alya came over yesterday to update me on her 'investigation' and I commented on the fact that she wasn't even looking at Lila as a possibility even though she was the one leveling all of the accusations, and she got really ticked at me," Marinette told him. "She said something about making accusations without any evidence and being obsessed with Lila and then stormed out."

Adrien spluttered. "She- you- she accused you of making accusations without evidence? But you have a literal pile of evidence right over there- it's not hidden or anything! Like, it's super-obvious! How did she miss that?"

Marinette could only shrug. "You know Alya. When she gets focused on one thing, she just turns oblivious to everything else."

"That's frustrating." Adrien reached over to squeeze her hand comfortingly, flashing her a small smile. "I'm sure she'll be kicking herself once everything comes out."

"Yeah, especially because of the latest interview I got." Marinette reached forward, picking up the flash drive sitting next to her computer and waving it at him. "I got a brief interview with Ladybug, and she confirmed that the first time she heard of Lila was when she saw the video on the Ladyblog, and that she saw Lila throw away your father's book, and that she was in Paris on Heroes' Day, and that she's maliciously interfered with akuma battles before."

"Ooh, nice," Adrien said appreciatively. "That must have been hard to get, but that'll be good. And also a good way to point out to Alya that she literally didn't check anything."

Marinette could only smile. Actually, once she had gotten things set up, it had been quite easy to get the video. All she had really needed to do was record herself asking the questions, pitching her voice a little higher than usual, and then play them back while Ladybug answered the questions, doing her best to make it sound like she hadn't practiced already and pitching her voice slightly downwards.

The Miraculous would protect her identity no matter what, but there was no point in risking someone noticing that her voice and Ladybug's were incredibly similar.

"Are you almost done with evidence-collecting, do you think?" Adrien asked Marinette, giving the flash drive one last look before turning his attention to Marinette. "I mean, the sooner you break the news, the sooner you can come back."

Marinette winced. This was the news that she hadn't been looking forward to breaking. "Actually, I, uh..."

Adrien practically wilted. "You're not coming back?"

"My parents are really furious at the school," Marinette admitted. "We've been talking a lot, and I maybe hadn't told them everything that had been happening at school over the past few years with bullying and discipline, and- well, they said that unless there were significant changes, they don't want me going back. I'll be rejoining everyone in lycée," she added quickly before Adrien slouched straight off of his chair. "Which isn't that far off, really, in the grand scheme of things. And I can hang out with the class whenever, and if you want to come over like you are now, or over lunch..."

"So it's not like we won't be seeing you at all," Adrien finished, scooting closer to her. "I was worried about that."

Marinette flashed a smile at him. She was going to miss hanging out with people between classes, but sacrifices had to be made if she wanted to fully capitalize on her temporary homeschooling and it wouldn't be forever. "Right. I'll be right across the street, available to hang out. It's not the end of the word."

"And it gives me a reason to look forward to lycée," Adrien added on. He glanced at her computer screen, which still had her online school portal up. "And I was right, wasn't I? About you being ahead of Dupont now?"

"It wasn't hard," Marinette admitted. "You guys are behind, and when I work at my own speed, I can cover more than a day's work. So that's another reason it wouldn't really make sense for me to go back, because I'll be so far ahead. And it's probably going to be another week at least, because all of the legal stuff takes some time to put together and file."

Adrien nodded, still looking a bit let down. Clearly he had been hoping that Marinette would be returning to school soon, and as much as that made Marinette's heart race, she couldn't change her plans. "Right."

"But enough depressing stuff," Marinette decided, shutting her notebook and closing the school website before grinning up at Adrien. "Wanna play Mecha Strike?"

"That sounds perfect."

  Marinette headed up the steps of the Italian Embassy, a spring in her steps. It hadn't taken long to set up an appointment to interview an ambassador and a couple other staff members at the embassy, and they were more than willing to spend a few minutes with her. She had promised not to take up too much of their time- after all, they had important work to do- and now she was arriving early, just to make sure that something like a delayed bus wouldn't make her late.

Not that she would have allowed a delayed bus to make her late. After all, Ladybug could cross Paris faster than any bus could, so if it had come to that, she would have just transformed and raced across the rooftops. It wouldn't be ideal- she didn't want Chat Noir to see her out and about and interrupt his school day because he thought that there was an akuma- but the option was still there.

"So I'm meeting with Ambassador Bianchi in ten minutes and Monsieur Moretti after that," Marinette told Tikki as she mounted the last few steps and headed for the door. "I tested all of the equipment last night, so that I know how it works and that it works. I checked to make sure that all of my previous footage was off, so I have plenty of space. Tikki, am I forgetting anything?"

"No, I don't think so!" Tikki chirped, sticking her head out of Marinette's purse briefly before vanishing back inside. "You're all set, Marinette!"

Giving a determined nod, Marinette pulled open the door, stepping inside the embassy. A cheerful lady at the welcome desk gave her directions to the ambassador's office, and Marinette strode as confidently as she could down the hallway and up the stairs to the second floor. There were more than a couple people wandering down the halls chatting in Italian, and Marinette caught flashes of conversations as she passed them.

It wasn't hard to find the ambassador's office- the embassy had good signage, she would give them that- and Marinette stepped in the open door, coming to a stop in front of Ambassador Bianchi's secretary's desk, where a oddly familiar woman sat.

Lila's mother. And it definitely was Lila's mother because behind her, pinned to a very full corkboard, was a picture of Lila and her mom together with an older couple.

Well. Maybe Lila had been lying about her mother being an ambassador or in any sort of top diplomatic position, but she was at least at the Italian Embassy.

"Ah, you must be Ambassador Bianchi's eleven o'clock appointment," Mrs. Rossi said, giving Marinette a friendly smile. "She said something about a student project?"

"Yes, I'm on my Foreign Relations unit right now and we're supposed to do a project on France's relationship with another country. My Nonna is Italian, so..." Marinette shrugged. It wasn't an entire lie. Even if Lila hadn't been in the picture, Marinette probably would have picked Italy to research. That, or China. "I decided to learn a bit more about the country that side of the family is from."

"How lovely!" Mrs. Rossi exclaimed. She smiled at Marinette. "Now, if you want to take a seat over there to wait, the ambassador will be about five minutes."

"Okay," Marinette said automatically, then paused. Maybe she already had all of the evidence she needed to get Lila in very deep trouble, but she couldn't deny that she was really curious about Lila's mom and what exactly was going on there. "Or, actually- if you're busy or don't want to, that's fine, but could I maybe interview you about what you do at the embassy as well?"

Mrs. Rossi perked up. "Oh, I think I can spare a few minutes for that! I never really get asked about what I do," she confided as Marinette quickly pulled out her camera and attached the microphone to it. "Which I can understand, because everybody always talks about the ambassadors and the ministers and they get the spotlight, but there's plenty of staff behind the scene who make the entire place run smoothly. There's a lot of work involved- I work overtime most days, but that's also because I'm still getting used to this job."

Marinette nodded as she checked both mic and camera to make sure that they were running. "When I was reading up on what an embassy does, it certainly sounded complicated! It's not a huge surprise that there are people behind the scenes making sure that everything gets done."

"It might surprise you how many people that information does surprise." Mrs. Rossi considered Marinette again, pausing. Marinette tried to not stiffen up. Had Mrs. Rossi realized who she was? "Forgive me for prying, but I'm curious- shouldn't you be at school right now? Did they give you a pass so that you could do the interviews?"

Marinette shook her head, feeling herself starting to relax. Maybe Lila had decided that her mom might be suspicious or decide to move her to another school if she reported any problems- real or imaginary- to her and so hadn't mentioned Marinette at all. "I'm being homeschooled at the moment- or, rather, I'm enrolled in an online school for the rest of collège."

"Oh, that's quite nice," Mrs. Rossi commented, perking up. "And smart, considering the akuma attacks here in Paris! My daughter's collège was closed for several months because of akuma attacks there- or maybe it was just one akuma who was taking forever to defeat, I don't remember- and I do worry about how that's going to impact her education. I'd have her switch schools, but I worry that other schools would have the same problem and the one she's at is quite highly rated." She sighed. "And Lila seems to have made quite a few friends there, and she's gotten a boyfriend, so I don't want to make her switch and I hadn't had the time to look into other options anyway."

...okay, this was interesting. It also answered the question of how Lila's mom hadn't noticed her skipping school for months on end, but Marinette was really wondering how busy Mrs. Rossi was if she hadn't even looked into Lila's claims. One simple Google search, and she would have found out that no such long-term akuma existed.

She also had questions about the boyfriend claim. Something told Marinette that Lila had probably claimed that she was dating Adrien, who was likely to be less than happy about that claim.

"Huh, I hadn't heard any news about any collèges being closed because of akuma," Marinette said instead of questioning anything, shrugging one shoulder. "Odd. But getting back on track..." She made a show of getting the camera properly lined up, then peered over the top. "Can you tell me what you do here at the embassy?"

  Marinette was prepared.

Over the past couple of weeks, with Adrien's help and a bit of an assist from her family's lawyer, she had debunked pretty much all of Lila's lies. She had printed out pages of evidence and compiled video clips from the interviews she had done on flash drives. The lawsuits- both against the school and against Lila specifically- had just been filed, and Madam Chamack would be breaking the story that morning, while Marinette went in to confront Ms. Bustier and Lila.

Everything was ready, all of her evidence packed into her bag the previous evening, and Marinette was doing breathing exercises while waiting to head into the school. Her family's lawyer, several members of the school board, a substitute teacher, and a truancy officer were all waiting downstairs in the bakery, and would be accompanying her over.

A ding from her phone caught Marinette's attention, and she pulled it out of her purse. On-screen, there was a message from Adrien.

Looking forward to seeing you! You'll do great :)

Smiling, Marinette tapped out a quick reply before sending it and heading downstairs. Nerves were really building in her stomach now, but she pushed them back down. She had faced akumas and supervillains before. This would be a piece of cake.

"The bell has rung," Madam Rochefort commented, glancing up from her tablet. "Let's head over in five, to give people time to settle down."

Ms. Boutin flashed a grin at Madam Rochefort. "It's so odd, seeing you deliberately planning to make a scene during classes. Normally you're all about pulling teachers aside before or after school."

"They decided to make the accusations and expulsion a public spectacle, so I'm not going to grant them the privilege of resolving their problems in private." Madam Rochefort smiled at Marinette. "And I certainly couldn't deny Miss Dupain-Cheng here the satisfaction of throwing all of her evidence in her class's face."

Marinette smiled at that. She had been a little worried with all of the officials that had gotten involved that she wouldn't be able to carry out her (admittedly somewhat petty) plan, but they had been willing to accommodate her.

Five minutes later, they were marching over to the school. Ms. Boutin knocked on the large doors sharply, then stepped back to wait for an answer. Seconds later, Mr. Haprèle opened the doors, annoyed look giving way to confusion.

"Good morning, we're from the school board," Madam Rochefort announced, ushering Marinette in ahead of her and flashing her ID at . "We've come to speak to a couple of the teachers and your principal."

Mr. Haprèle nodded, stepping to the side to let them in even as the confused look stayed on his face. Marinette led the way up to Ms. Bustier's classroom, excitement mounting in every step.

She could do this. Everything was labeled so there was no chance of her messing anything up. There was no need to go into detail for anything if she didn't want to. For once, other people could exert some actual effort and look at the evidence she had helpfully gathered for them instead of her having to explain each and every piece.

"Go get 'em," Ms. Boutin told Marinette, patting her arm. "And we're right here, waiting for our cue. They won't be able to ignore you this time."

Nodding, Marinette put on her Ladybug face, then turned towards the door. With one last deep breath, she shoved open the door, sending it flying open and drawing every student's eye to her as she strode into the classroom, confidence in every step.

"Marinette!" Ms. Bustier exclaimed, rising from her desk at the front. There was a frown on her face. "What are you doing here? You've been expelled, you're not allowed on school property, especially during school hours-"

Marinette's fierce expression cut her off. "Actually, I'm here to contest my expulsion. I think you'll find that none of the requirements for expulsion were even met. Additionally-" Marinette started digging in her bag, a frown flashing across her face as she realized that it might be a bit difficult to pull things out of her bag.

"I can hold your bag, Marinette!" Adrien offered at once, sliding out of his seat and coming up front to join her, taking her bag and flashing her an encouraging smile. You've got this.

"Thank you, Adrien." Marinette returned his smile, then returned to her earlier intensity. "As I was saying- no procedure was followed. The decision to expel me was entirely based on claims made by a lying, thieving, completely untrustworthy liar."

Lila gasped theatrically from her seat, which- surprise, surprise- was now next to Alya, in Marinette's old spot. "You're still trying to call me a liar? Just because you're jealous-"

Marinette cut her off, pulling the first stack of packets out of her bag while staring Lila down. "Evidence that Lila was lying about saving Jagged Stone's cat and knowing him at all. Almost all of which is public information, if anyone had bothered to look." She slammed the first packet down on Ms. Bustier's desk. "That she was lying about knowing Prince Ali." Another slam. "And that literally all of her supposed involvement in charity work and other organizations is a lie, as are all of the other connections that she claimed to have and that I'm not even going to dignify naming."

This slam was even louder. There were several flinches around the room. Lila was starting to look a little less confident, her eyes darting towards Ms. Bustier.

"And, most importantly." Marinette's eyes flashed back to Ms. Bustier, who was looking very taken aback. "Which the teachers here really should have looked into properly, instead of just blindly believing Lila. She was lying about being out of Paris at all and was using posters as her background when she called us, which should have been obvious to anyone with eyes, because there were exactly zero pedestrians or cars behind her. I found all of the posters she used with a very simple reverse photo search."

There were gasps at that, and Ms. Bustier pressed a hand to her chest, looking over at Lila.

"Additionally, as if the posters weren't enough, I have interviews with both Ladybug and Mrs. Rossi that confirm that Lila was in Paris for the entirety of the time that she claimed to be traveling." Marinette reached in the bag one more time, pulling out her flash drive. Lila had gone pale at that, and oh, it was so satisfying. "Those were both very interesting, actually. Ladybug told me that the first time she had ever heard of Lila was when she saw the Ladyblog video where Lila was claiming to be her best friend, and that Lila has hated her for calling her out of the lies. Additionally, Lila has deliberately gotten in the way of the superheroes during akuma battles in order to sabotage them, and she was in Paris on Heroes' Day as Volpina, who made the illusions of Ladybug and Chat Noir fighting."

There were gasps at that. Marinette was not done.

"And on top of that, Ladybug saw Lila throwing a book into the trash- a book that Lila stole from Adrien." Marinette's eyes narrowed at Lila, whose mouth was opening and closing wordlessly. "Because she had gotten what she wanted out of it, also known as the fake Fox Miraculous that she had just bought from a Gabriel shop."

"Which, I might add, she tried to pass off as the real Fox Miraculous right away," Adrien chimed in from next to her. "And that necklace was the same one that she said was from her grandmother and she claimed that Marinette stole."

"And, if that isn't enough, Mrs. Rossi thought that Lila was staying home because the school was closed due to an extended akuma attack," Marinette finished, a smirk flashing across her face at the look of pure panic that flashed across Lila's face. Clearly she had thought that Marinette was bluffing about meeting her mother."Because Lila told her that the principal was akumatized and therefore the school was closed." Against her better judgment, Marinette's eyes flashed towards Alya for a moment. "How's that for research and evidence, hmmm?"

"I- no-" Lila attempted, clearly scrambling to pull herself together. "That is- a misrepresentation of what- Marinette is just making things up, she's just jealous and bitter that I didn't let her bully me-"

"I have video evidence, Lila," Marinette told her, using her best cold, no-nonsense, I-am-a-superhero-and-you-WILL-listen-to-me voice. She could see several people shrink back, intimidated. "And an entire pile of evidence to disprove your other lies. And..." She reached into her bag for her final folder, opening it up and pulling out another packet before striding over to Lila and slapping it down on the desk in front of her. "A lawsuit against you, for slander with malicious intent."

"But Lila can't get in trouble with the law," Max protested from the back of the room. "She has diplomatic immunity because of her mother."

Marinette smirked at that. Lila was really wilting now. "Top diplomats might get diplomatic immunity for their families, sure. But the secretary for the ambassador certainly doesn't get immunity for her family."

There were gasps at that.

"Additionally, diplomatic immunity can be waived by the family member or the home country even if it did apply," Mr. Bernard announced, stepping into the classroom. "Which we have seen before, and if it had applied in this case, I'm sure we would see it again."

"Who are you?" Ms. Bustier asked, stepping forward. "This all seems like a lot of disruption, we are a school-"

"I am a truancy officer, and Ms. Rossi here is in quite a bit of trouble. Skipping multiple months of school is definitely grounds for punishment, particularly when I suspect that she forged her mother's signature on the school leave forms." Mr. Bernard flashed a doubtful look at Ms. Bustier. "If, of course, there was even an attempt at following procedure in that case."

Ms. Bustier flushed. "We- we were told it was a very last-minute trip, and that Mrs. Rossi was quite busy, and we wanted to be accommodating, so we waited until after the return to really push for ..."

"Procedure is not optional. It is there for a reason, to keep things like this from happening." Mr. Bernard did not look impressed, but he jerked his chin at Lila. "Ms. Rossi. Your mother has been contacted and is on her way. Collect your things at once."

Lila glanced around frantically, rather like a cornered rabbit, but all of her classmates were glaring at her. Slowly, she gathered up her things, picking up the lawsuit notice last, and then headed out after Mr. Bernard, dragging her feet the entire way.

There was a pause.

"It- well, it seems as though I owe you an apology, Marinette," Ms. Bustier finally said, sinking back into her seat. "I should have looked into things more thoroughly instead of letting them slide. I'll get your expulsion wiped off of your record at once, and you can return right away."

"Actually, I won't be returning to Francois-Dupont," Marinette informed her, ignoring the gasps from the class in favor of fishing out the last of her forms and setting it on Ms. Bustier's desk. "My parents don't think that the environment here is conducive to my learning experience, and they don't trust that there will be enough change in the remainder of the year to satisfy them."

Ms. Bustier reached across the desk for the form at once, her eyes going wide as she took in the top page. It was another lawsuit, this one against the school for not following proper procedure for expulsion and for failing to protect their students from a bully.

Marinette had been a little unsure about the last bit, but the school board had pointed out that, had any of the teachers looked into things, Mr. Bourgeois didn't actually have the power to punish the school for properly disciplining Chloe, and even if they couldn't be bothered to look that much up, they at the very least could have separated Chloe and Marinette into different homerooms instead of placing them together for so many years in a row. It wouldn't have been possible to place them in different classrooms every year- after all, Chloe bullied everyone- but getting a break every other year shouldn't have been too much to expect.

Having adults standing up to Chloe instead of leaving students to do that themselves shouldn't have been too much to expect, either.

"I'll be rejoining the class for lycée, but not before," Marinette added, because she could hear Rose starting to sniffle. "And I can hang out with you guys whenever, but my parents aren't at all happy with the administration here."

Rose managed a small smile when Marinette glanced her way, nodding in understanding.

"Speaking of people being unhappy with the administration, we need to speak to you, Ms. Bustier," Madam Rochefort announced, sticking her head through the door. She stepped aside to let the substitute teacher who they had brought in. "We'll go to Mr. Damocles' office, if you could."

Ms. Bustier nodded, even paler as she followed Madam Rochefort out. Marinette took that as her cue to leave as well, tucking her empty folder back into her bag and taking it back from Adrien. He was smiling at her, proud and a little sad at the same time.

"We'll miss seeing you during class," Adrien murmured in her ear as he slid Marinette's bag over her head, arranging it at her side before pressing a quick kiss to the side of her head. "But I know I'll visit as often as I can. For both the company and the food."

"Our door is always open for you," Marinette promised, trying not to flush and probably failing. Adrien was too cute for her blood pressure sometimes. "And you have my number, too. If you want to come over during lunch, too, you can."

Adrien perked up at that as he escorted her to the door. "I might end up never leaving if you keep inviting me over, just so you know."

Marinette giggled. As though she would actually ever complain about that. "We'll make up a bed for you."

"Very tempting." Adrien smiled at her, then glanced back into the classroom. The substitute teacher was looking back at him. "I have to go, but see you later?"

"Of course." With a final wave, Marinette stepped back, watching Adrien head back into the classroom before turning herself and heading back out of the school. She was by herself now, the school board members and lawyer and truancy officer all busy, but that didn't matter. She had done what she had come to school to do. The expulsion would be wiped from Marinette's record, and the faculty at Dupont would be given the help and training they needed to be far better teachers for the next set of students to come through and all of the students after them, too. On top of that, Lila had been taken down, her following gone and her reputation in shatters. With any luck, she would be removed from Paris entirely in order to keep her from getting akumatized again.

Hopefully her next set of teachers would be given a heads-up about Lila's tendency to make up stories so that no one else would have to go through the same thing that Marinette just had.

Humming to herself, Marinette paused at the crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. She had taken down one schoolyard bully and made life in Paris just that little bit better for everyone.

And now that that was over... well, now that she had more free time, she could turn her attention to a much bigger target. Hawkmoth had better beware, because before long, Ladybug was going to be on his case.