#said the ones back home were slow and also sometimes badly designed?

[oifaaa]

We do have electric kettles but unless you were a dedicated tea drinker or enjoy pour over coffee (compared to other popular extraction methods). Not many have one.

Also we have plug covers.

Never said you guys didn't have kettles said you didn't have good ones which is true bc the voltage in your plugs is lower then the Irish/UK plugs it means the kettles take longer to boil and becomes more of an inconvenience i also never said you guys didn't have plug covers I just said you have to buy them separately they're not apart of the plug like the irish/UK plugs

[moonlightshaiku]

Comfort Among the Living

Time x Reader

Word Count: 2873

Warnings: nightmares, implied traumatic events

Ao3: here!

Notes:

Teehee silly clock man

Tag List:

You slink out of the bed, jerking away from it, watching warily. It feels dangerous. Perhaps if you leave the room, where the dream transpired, the danger will be gone.

You don't wait, just sling open your door and run out, checking behind you. You feel childish, and underdressed. But you feel them at your neck, just a breath away. Your safe space has been taken and replaced with where you once were, where you suffered, exaggerated and made more disturbing through your mind.

The fact that it was a dream matters not. This castle feels like your home. It feels unsafe. Your feet make a loud sound against stone as you walk, and you jerk, look over your shoulder. They'll find you, you feel. But you know they won't. They're not here. They've never been here, nor do they have any idea of where you are. But you feel their cold hands at your back, sinking their fingers into your skin. It hurts, and you travel forward faster.

The arches of your feet ache from the cold, and your heels burn from the hard ground. You don't dare look at them, or slow. You just hug yourself, in your thin tights and drawstring shirt, and continue forward.

You have no plan on where to go. You know that people are safe. That the Seconds and Wilkins are safe, as is Time. But you do not know where they are, and you would not be able to explain your panic.

You head to the only other place you can think of. Hoping for presence, but checking around corners in fear of anyone seeing you. So small, childish and afraid. The thoughts make your cheeks warm in an unpleasant way.

Across from the Hall of the Living is dark and gloomy. Time sees peace in it, he's told you. And you have too, at times. Now it seems too dark.

You rush into the Hall of the Living, thinking of closing the gates behind you. Making sure you're safe. But they're loud, you can't help but worry. Time will be mad, and it'll make your skin crawl.

You walk slowly back to the gate, checking either side of the hallway for anyone. When you see no one, you slip your fingers through the intricate designs, and slowly swing one side of the gate closed, and then the other. It creaks, but not too loudly. Just enough to make you check over your shoulder, and remind yourself to breathe. Once the gate is closed and latched, though not enough to keep anyone out, it makes you feel more secure.

You walk to the end of the platform, watching each pocket watch as you pass. Reading each name. Right before you reach the end, you sit. It's not as cold here. Still colder than bearable in your lack of clothing, but enough to make you feel less afraid. You wonder if it's the light, and then you wonder where the light comes from. You stare up and ahead, squinting. Your eyes have barely adjusted to the room, and it's much brighter the farther you look.

You curl in on yourself. You can't feel the light here like you can the sun, but you're aware it's there. It's still uncanny, but comforting and familiar.

Time had told you, once, on one of his softer days, that when two people started a relationship, their pocket watches would sometimes align. They wouldn't live longer, or tick at the same beat, but their chair would shorten or lengthen, and they would sit beside one another in this hall.

Time had admitted another night, this one dreary with the death of multiple people, that he did not have a clock in the Hall of the Living. And, therefore, his and Iracebeth's could not line up. He said that was how he knew people were made for each other. If they aligned. Because they often didn't. He had also said that he didn't think he'd take another chance like he did with Iracebeth. He did not help her, nor make her happy. Her sister did that.

You'd tried to console him, but had no words left. He was an immortal taking a chance on a mortal. It went badly. You doubt he'd try again for a long, long time. But you had faith in him and his decisions, and told him as such, and he had thanked you solemnly.

You hear the gate creak. You jerk around. All the feeling of safety you had gathered is gone. You jerk to your feet as Time pushes the gate, and slips through the small opening.

"I trust you were not making trouble?" He glances around the hall. He'd know if you were. He'd feel it, or hear it, you're sure.

You nod, quick and jerk. He does not look angry, it is very obvious when he is angry. But you doubt yourself. Perhaps he is. Perhaps he just wants to be gentle with you. He'll send you to stay with Mirana or the Hatter until you can find your way back home.

"I'm sorry." You say quickly. Hopeful that it'll improve things, loosen your chest and quiet whatever enviable anger he has towards you.

He shakes his head. "You have done nothing to apologize for." He steps closer, slowly. He's no longer wearing his hat, and his bun is messy. It often happens when he's not taken a break to freshen up, or been working for a long amount of time. "What is wrong, my dear?" His voice is soft, but matter-of-fact. He'd like an answer

He's concerned, you tell yourself, not angry. But you don't know how to reply. Your fear is replaced with a rabid anxiety, eating away at your thoughts and words. He puts his hand to your back, and you jerk just slightly, shake your head, desperate to communicate what jumbled in your brain. He takes his hand away, and his eyebrows pull in.

He's concerned. You've worried him. If you would've stayed in your room, you wouldn't have worried him. You have so much to do and explain and fix, and not enough words to start, much less finish. You have no energy to open your mouth. No energy to think. You want to sleep again, but the thought of your room makes your stomach sink.

"Sorry." You say again, because it's the only thing you can reliably say. That will make sense. That will convey anything worth conveying. He shakes his head. You keep your sight on his eyebrows, not his eyes.

He sits, slowly and carefully, right by where you once were. He looks across the clocks, admires them with a bitter joy. He holds his hand out, to help lower you down. When you put your hand on his, he doesn't bend his fingers or take your hand. He just leaves it as a crutch, a support. You sit beside him, follow his gaze.

"Life is unpredictable." He says. "I am, too, in some ways. You can count that 12 o'clock will come, but not that you will make it there. Often, people do not believe in the unpredictable parts of me. They believe that if they do enough, or love hard enough, they will escape. They will not tick their last tock. And yet, they do."

He looks calm, lets himself slouch. "I like to watch the watches, the people. The chains lengthen and shorten, change place, move. It is hard to see, as it happens so slowly. So many choices that lead to their destination. And then I must end it when they chime. But they are at peace, I know, and that comforts me. I like to think I have my own, in some room I have yet to find. I would like to see it twist and turn, if it does. If my life has ever changed direction. Or perhaps I am stuck as I am. Perhaps immortality comes with the price of recurrency."

You rub your hands up and down your arms as you look across the pocket watches. Shining and golden, reflective of the light. "Perhaps you have the clock. And it is not repetitive. Not all the time. Alice took the chronosphere, and your rhythm changed. Perhaps you need to search for variety to find it, to change your direction."

He hums, and nods. "Yes. But at the price of time itself, that is something I cannot afford. Perhaps I must forfeit variety for the consistency of other's."

"Maybe the price of immortality is the choice between variety and recurrency. Not the lack of either."

He hums again. "Perhaps."

He goes silent, and stays seated. You find him watching you more so than listening to the ticking of the clocks. But you try to see them shifting. Look up as high as you can and try to see the chains move. "Do they ever move quickly? I can imagine they do, with big decisions and changes."

"Hm. Yes. The Hatter's does often. Though it rotates more in a circle. Constant change in directions with no true direction stuck to. Until Alice's last visit. His family seems to be pulling him out of the cycle. Once he finds and fulfills what he was meant to do, I'm sure his countdown will start, and then he, too, will be gone."

"Huh." You're quiet, now. Out of questions, knees to your chest, feet cold.

"May I ask why you are awake?" He's gentle in his question. Quiet and careful.

"I have nightmares. About things that have never happened, or things that have, just worse. It makes me feel unsafe. I am not sure how… familiar you are."

His hand hovers over your back, and when you do not move, he strokes it gently, up and down. "Iracebeth had them rather often, but woke up angry rather than… feeling unsafe. But she resolved them."

You slouch, curl in on yourself a little bit more. He brings his hand up, strokes a little firmer along your shoulder blades. "Mine can't be resolved. Maybe. Over years, possibly. But I doubt it." You shiver. This hall is no longer warming you. The cold has soaked into your bones, and the adrenaline has drained. You are tired, but your room still feels unwelcoming.

"I understand." He says gently. "And that is okay. They cannot be resolved, perhaps, but helped."

You give a shrug. "I guess that is true. Not sure how. But, it's fine. I'll probably just end up sleeping in a bit."

"Would company help? As you sleep? I have a couch in my office, though I have no bed I could offer."

You don't feel brave. You never feel brave, if you are being truthful. You simply just grapple for purchase on an ever-rising cliff. You simply want to survive, your heart to beat at a rhythm that suits you. Your tiredness makes this need for survival apathetic, it makes you more needy, longing for what you want. Or, perhaps, what you need. But you've never been able to differentiate needs and wants.

Needs are water and food. Sleep is debatable. Everything else can be supplemented and dealt with when in depression.

"May I ask for something?" You ask this quietly, your voice worn and raw despite being mostly unused.

"Of course," is Time's reply, his attention on you no longer sheepish or hidden. He watches your expression, your motion.

"May I lay on you?" You would like comfort. Warm, and skin. You would like to be held, but you do not say it, for it is not a need. It is not a singular person's job to provide that. And they will only provide it if they would like it too, even if they want it to quiet you.

"Of course," He repeats, but it is no comfort. He is trying to help. You make no move to initiate. It is a test, of sorts, to see if he is truly willing. Willing to do the closest thing you allow yourself to have to being held. He does not move, your heart feels heavy.

He looks into the distance for a few moments, and you wonder what he is thinking, if he will ask. You wonder what will hurt more, his question or his silence. "Give me a moment." He says, finally, and it startles you.

He stands, and walks towards the gate. You briefly think that he will leave, and not return. That whatever glimpses you previously saw of him will lessen. But if he wanted to leave, he would not have spoken. That much makes sense, so much so that your curiosity overrides your anxiety, and you watch him.

He takes something off his shoulders, the thing that gives him the hourglass shape. You don't quite know what to call it. A jacket? Obnoxious shoulder pads? Under he has a large sort of cape. He takes that off, as well, and is left in a button-down and a vest. You can see, layers shed, that his pockets are filled and bulging. You wonder what fills his pockets. What he holds so close and stuff his pockets with.

He leaves his shoulder pads leaned on the gate, but brings his cape as he approaches you again. Sitting where he once was, he adjusts his neck and groans. "My neck has not been serviced in a long time. Perhaps Wilkins should take a look at it." He turns his head again, it creaks.

Gently, slowly, he throws his cape over your shoulders. It's warm, and the heat seeps into you like dulled sewing needles. You twitch, but grab the side and pull it to you. It's comforting, and makes your eyes heavy. Time slips under the other side of the cape, his hand running under the fabric and caressing your shoulder, pulling you into him.

He adjusts the cape, keeping you both sufficiently covered, and then relaxes his arms around your torso. He holds you, and you nearly weep. He is warm, his body making a steady mechanical noise. If you had the energy to listen, you could pick out the sound of each gear and vein in his body. You lay your head on him, your ear warming. You hadn't realized your ears were so cold. You touch the other one. The cape falls away, no longer in your grip, and Time retrieves it, wrapping it back around you before you feel the cold.

You're tired, and you long for more comfort. You're grateful, but want to be engulfed whole. Fall into the endless abyss of a too-soft bed. Suffocate in the softness of skin and fabric. You twist, and bury your head into his chest. He smells like paper and sugar and oil, distinct and strange and new. He smells like old couches and lemon candies covered in powdered sugar. You breathe him in, and your bones loosen.

He rubs your back, and pulls you in. The world goes dark as you're pulled into the dark cave of him and his coat. You breathe. "Thank you." Your voice is soft, softer than you're used to hearing. Not happy in that tight way, or rough and unused, or soft with face care. It's sleepy and careless and loose as the rest of you.

You expect him to pull away, now that you've thanked him. The thanks means you've been fixed, that he may now leave you alone, assured that he's helpful while you sit alone with your degrading brain again. Your shoulders tighten, and you miss your calm. You count the seconds, try to soak him in with the time you have left. But he does not move.

He runs his hands over your back again. Gentle but firm, over your shoulder blades, willing them to again let go. But you cannot take it from your mind. When will he leave?

"How long will you stay here?" You ask.

"For my life, if I could. Until Time is no longer needed, if it was what you needed, my dear."

"I am afraid to ask for things. For comfort." He holds you closer.

"Your comfort is mine, as is your discomfort. Would you like me to ask for things, as well? There are many things I would like to ask for. Though not all of them for here. Not all of them for now." You nod into his chest, and he runs human fingers through your hair, pulling on your scalp in a way that makes your body melt.

"Will you sit in my lap?" He seems shy at the request. "So I may hold you properly?"

You push yourself up on still arms rather than replying. He forgets the cape in favor of helping you into his lap, pulling you to him. Then he covers you both. Holds you as you fold up, squeezes you and breathes in your hair.

"I have one more request for tonight." He looks hopeful at you, saturated eyes wide and eyebrows pulled in.

You nod, smile, aware it's small, but not with energy for much more.

"Sleep here, on me." He asks. "Please."

You lay your head to his chest, and close your eyes, already sinking. "Yes."

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Uhmmm.... so I had a prompt idea. What if hero arrested villain, and handed him to the authorites, and he basically told her that he'd make her pay for it. Then hero goes to the prison for a different reason weeks later, where she sees villain, terrified, sick, and drugged. So, she reluctantly takes him home and cares for him. She is scared he will attack her when he's lucid, but when he does fully wake up, he's just terrified.

This is such a good idea! I saw your submission right before I went to bed and laid there thinking about it, so as you can see I was quite excited to write it.

Paying For It

Warnings: threats, horrible treatment by authorities, left to be sick, fever, blood, drugged, forced sedation, unconsciousness, nightmares, smoking mention, paralysis (due to sickness), sick animal analogy, delirium

~

"You will pay for this," he growled as the handcuffs clicked into place. "I will make you you pay for this and not by money, no-" a chuckle "- I will hurt you."

Hero shuddered as she walked down the icy path back to the same prison that she recently turned Villain into. Horrible thoughts of that said villain breaking out and torturing her flooded into her mind, making her already chilly veins even colder. She hugged her fleece tighter around her and adjusted her scarf, suddenly wishing she wore her winter coat.

Before she knew it, Hero was trotting up the steps towards the concrete building. It was, by design, barren yet strong.

She had some documents to bring to the office. There was a new supervillain in town, actually more like ten, but Hero only managed to get information about the one. They most likely moved in after the biggest threat around, Villain, was arrested.

She opened the door, closing it quietly, and walked up to the desk. The hero, a young boy, most likely a sidekick holding down the fort while his mentor went to do something else, sitting up there was lazily playing a video game on his phone.

Hero coughed to get his attention. The boy didn't respond.

"Hello?" Hero asked.

The boy startled, tossing his phone backwards. "I wasn't," he defended, "on my phone, I swear."

"Uh huh," Hero grunted, sliding the papers over to the boy. "Where's your boss?"

"Probably smoking or something," the boy chuckled, then stopped and looked at Hero with a nervously apologetic expression. "I shouldn't have- you weren't meant to know."

Hero shook her head and said, "I don't care about my colleagues personal habits, but can you get him for me?"

The boy nodded and rushed off, returning later with a stern looking man.

"Superhero," Hero acknowledged, nodding slightly. He smiled then looked at the papers on the desk.

"Are these about..." He looked up at Hero.

"The new villain, yes," Hero finished his sentence, crossing her arms.

"Good, very good," Superhero momentarily flipped through them. In that silence, a thought bubbled up in Hero's mind.

"How's Villain?" She asked. "It's been awhile."

Superhero's face paled, as his toe nervously tapped the floor. Hero raised an eyebrow.

"We've had some... issues, so Villain is spending sometime in detention," Superhero said. He coughed, then said in an overly joyful tone, "Thanks for this Hero, do you want me to escort you to your car?"

"I would actually like to see Villain. Maybe I can, you know, talk to him about his behavior," Hero declined the offer, stepping in front of the papers. Something isn't right...

"Well you see, that wouldn't be beneficial. If anything it would be detrimental towards Villain's... redemption," Superhero pointed out, unconsciously chewing at his lip.

"We aren't a redemption center, Superhero," Hero said quietly, almost a whisper. "Let me see Villain or-" Hero grabbed the papers and proceeded to rip them "- these aren't your's."

Superhero rushed forward, putting his hands on top of Hero's and slid the papers back towards him. He gave a tiny smile and consented to her request.

They walked down the corridor and then down a couple flight of stairs until they reached a steel door with three locks- all with different keys. Hero watched with a stoned expression, thinking about what would happen if one of those keys were unfortunately lost...

"He's in here," Superhero spoke, dancing on his feet.

Hero stepped into the dark room, recognizing the detention cell that she helped invent, and flipped on the lights.

In the corner of the capacious cell, was a huddled figure. His back was towards her, legs spread out. With a pang in her chest, Hero walked up to him.

"V-villain," Hero breathed and crouched next to the figure. Villain whimpered and pulled himself deeper into himself, but his legs didn't seem to be connected to his brain.

Hero gently rolled Villain's head up to face her and nearly gasped when she took in the sight. He looked like a sick, stray cat. Mucus drained out of his nose as vomit spewed out from the corner of his mouth. His half-lidded eyes were bloodshot and had deep eyebags underneath with dried blood coating his cheeks. He had multiple, nasty cold sores all around his lips- or were they infected cuts? Maybe both.

"Why is he in this state?" Hero asked, astounded. This violated so many regulations and rules- the prison could be shut down, many heroes arrested or fined.

Superhero didn't respond. Instead, he appeared at Hero's side and crouched down next to Villain. The villain who didn't even seem to be aware of their presences.

Hero grabbed one of the wrists that were so protectively cuddled next to Villain's chest. He whimpered, trying to resist Hero's touch.

"No," he mumbled. "No no no no. Don't give... m-more... that mm stop." Villain started to breath heavily, his already fast pulse speeding up. With a heavy heart, Hero knew without even looking that he was drugged badly.

"Superhero... why?" Hero squeaked, turning over a wrist to see them heavily bruised and still bleeding from his most recent dose.

Villain started thrashing, but his legs wouldn't move.

"Why can't he move?" Hero asked, running a hand along Villain's shoulder. "Why can't he move his legs?!"

Superhero inhaled deeply then said, "He's very sick, uh... he probably has some sort of infection that makes it hard for him to move his lower body. Maybe, I don't really know."

"You don't even know what's wrong with your prisoner," Hero scoffed in disbelief, dragging Villain's limp body into her lap. She tried not to notice the wetness seeping into her jeans. It would only infuriate her that such a sick person would be kept in a wet and cold cell on top of being drugged daily without any medicines to help kick his fever.

"He's sick."

Obviously.

"I'm taking him home," Hero said, and scooped his way too light form up. His legs dangled uselessly, head falling off towards the side.

"That's illegal," Superhero pointed out. "He is in our custody now."

"And where does our rules permit excessive use of sedatives," Hero said in the same, authoritive tone. "Minimal use only to relax a distressed prisoner and only when necessary. Also, never to the point of unconsciousness." Hero gestured with her head towards Villain's closed eyes.

"And where do they permit us heroes to contain a villain on private property?" Superhero tutted. "Set him down and let me do my job."

"I'll call the authorities," Hero threatened, "and take you to court."

Superhero groaned and threw his hands in the air. That was not a risk he could take.

"Fine," he growled, storming out of the room, leaving Hero in silence other than the slow dripping from a leaky pipe.

She quickly tore off her fleece and wrapped Villain's shivering body up. His eyes fluttered open and he mumbled something incoherently, but that was all as his eyelids slipped closed once again.

Then, she carried his ragdoll-like body out of the prison, down those steps, and into her car.

She laid Villain's limp form on one of the backseats, propping his lolling head against the window and buckled him in. His arms hung lifeless at his sides, legs completely devoid of strength.

With a nervous whimper, Hero sped home.

At home, Hero took a warm washcloth and wiped off the dried blood and mucus to reveal unevenly toned skin underneath. She delicately picked the dry crust off his eyelashes and eyebrows. It was rock hard and the warm water wouldn't loosen it, so she was forced to pull on the tiny hairs. At least he wasn't conscious for the pinpoints of pain.

Hero suddered, thinking about what would happen when he did wake up. Surely, he would keep to his word and hurt her, beating her up for imprisoning him and then of course this newfound dilemma.

She looked down at his sleeping form and sighed. She had him elevated to make sure his airways stayed clear, but his head kept falling to the side and onto the backrest of her daybed. His lips quivered, forming soundless words and pleas.

Hero gently touched his forehead, retreating at the burning heat. His eyes slowly blinked open at the contact, he moaned, and then they rolled back again and closed.

Hero sat next to him for rest of the day, worriedly anticipating his attitude upon awakening. However, as the hours went on and Villain didn't seem to be regaining consciousness too much, Hero realized that they would be in for a roughly long time.

Villain was probably drugged like that the moment he entered that building and judging by his health and state of his wrists, Hero also guessed that there was no care whatsoever during the admission or the aftercare.

Hero ran her fingers over Villain's pale cheeks. His mouth was parted open and he snored slightly from the congestion. Tears leaked from his eyes, irritating the tender skin below. Hero went and grabbed some lotion, smearing the white cream over the red rashes.

Villain jerked away suddenly, curling into himself and protectively guarding his arms. His heavy breathing went shallower and quicker as tiny noises escaped his mouth. Hero sighed and stopped touching him; he was likely trapped in a nightmare.

Hours turned into days, and only then was Villain awake enough to be aware of Hero's looming presence.

Though, his reaction was not what Hero was expecting.

He screamed, shoving himself and his weak form to a corner of the bed and gathering his leaden limbs into a huddled mass of burning skin. He shrieked and sobbed, and watched Hero with wide, exhausted eyes.

"Leave me alone!" He yelled, pulling up the covers in a bade to protect himself. "Please."

Hero never once in her life felt so utterly useless.

She was, like Villain promised she would, paying for her actions.

[bucky-hues]

sambucky fic recs

hellooo!! i've been wanting to do a sambucky fic rec, so i thought i'd do one for @fuckyeahsambucky ‘s fic yeah friday! here are some sambucky fics i love <3 do read the warnings on each fic!

one-shots

when i'm in a room with you (that missing piece is found) | @omg-just-peachy

sam x bucky

Three times Bucky falls asleep on Sam, and one time Sam asks why.

double dare | @omg-just-peachy

sam x bucky

Bucky follows his therapist’s advice to cultivate friendship, Sam makes him work for it, and by the time he’s sure they’re friends, Bucky has an entirely new problem on his hands.

press conference | @sammy-souffle

sam x bucky

Sam watches from a distance a journalist from Denver, Summer, puts her hand on Bucky’s arm and laughs at something he says. Her hand trails further up and squeezes his bicep which Bucky doesn’t seem to mind at all. If anything, he laughs along with her and leans in closer to her to say something. Sam closes his eyes briefly and swallows back his anger.

accidentally | @sammy-souffle

sam x bucky

x | @sammy-souffle

sam x bucky

request: during the time when sam is tracking bucky in romania, after sam and bucky get caught up in a fight against some hydra agents who were also tracking bucky

sam gets hurt and bucky feels guilty so he carries him inside to patch him up, they talk some stuff out, its all very intimate and both start to fall for each other a little

acquiring alpine | @sammy-souffle

sam x bucky

prompt: alpine being cute

x | @sammy-souffle (18+)

sam x bartender!bucky (modern au)

regrets | @sammy-souffle

sam x bucky

x | @jeffersonshattricks

sam x bucky

Bucky being completely oblivious that him and Sam have been dating for like 6 months and Bucky finally understands why Sam has been kissing him, sleeping in the bed with him, and being an all around sap with him.

reckless idiots tend to fall | @jeffersonshattricks

sam x bucky

Bucky and Sam are arguing cause Sam did something reckless on a mission and Bucky freaks out but oblivious Sam genuinely has no idea why. And then Bucky accidentally yells ‘because I love you’

tell me a secret | @jeffersonshattricks

sam x bucky

Every time Sam gets drunk he finds Bucky and asks him for a secret. Bucky always gives him one.

fucking ridiculous | @jeffersonshattricks

sam x bucky

Sam is pining and a bitter grumpy grump, Bucky is mostly oblivious but also pining. misunderstandings happen, feelings get hurt, people get hurt (like physically), and then confessions happen and all is well. yay! also the other avengers are just their nerdy selves for the most part!

come to the ocean, even when you're broken | @liminalmess

sam x bucky

“Bucky, hey, man, fancy meeting you here!” he said with an exaggerated enthusiasm that he probably knew would get under Bucky’s skin, clapping him on the shoulder as he sat down.

“I thought we were taking separate vacations,” Bucky grumbled back.

Or, in which Sam and Bucky go an accidentally not separate vacation to the Bahamas.

feelings | @yaksomins

sam x bucky (modern au)

sam crossed his arms and inspected the lobby. they were indeed the only people there, not including the few staff members seated at a table near a magenta-tinted arcade area with their noses buried in their phones.

"i think i can help with that," a voice said from behind sam.

sam turned and found himself face to face with the clerk they'd bought their tickets from earlier, the scruffy-looking man that seemed a little out of place amongst the younger staff. sam gave him a quick scan, his eyes catching the name plastered to his chest via a paper name tag, scribbled by hand using a marker.

"and what exactly can you do for us...bucky?" sam frowned. what kind of name was ‘bucky’?

"i can be your extra," he said, removing a hairband from his wrist and swiftly tying up his hair into a tidy bun. with more of him now visible, sam could get a better view of his face, all hard lines and soft eyes. "and it's a nickname," bucky added, smirking and moving past a puzzled sam towards the game room. "c'mon, let's suit up."

x | @yaksomins

sam x bucky

prompt: leaving each other notes

x | @yaksomins

sam x bucky

bucky takes sam for a ride on his motorcycle

i'll make this feel like home | @buckywilsonbarnes

sam x bucky

sambucky domestic fluff

x | @transjoaquintorres

sam x bucky

sam loves bucky's handwriting

just let me adore you | dharmainitiative (AO3)

sam x bucky

“Alright, what gives?” Sam demands. “Why do you turn down every single person I try to set you up with?”

He expects Bucky to avoid the question, come up with all sorts of excuses. What he doesn’t expect is for Bucky to start laughing.

“C’mon, Sam. Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.”

“Sam,” Bucky finally says, slow and deliberate. “I’m not interested in anyone you’ve tried to set me up with because I’ve been gone on you for ages.”

watch your words | dancer_in_the_rain (AO3)

sam x bucky

sam insults bucky and then loses his shit when someone agrees with him

love, punch | @clintbartonswife

sam x bucky

Bucky can get protective, but Sam reminds him he doesn’t need to be defended - a confession is made

exchange rate | @joycesully

sam x bucky

Bucky's older memories are coming back, sometimes at the cost of more recent ones. What he cannot forget is tearing the wings off Sam Wilson. Too bad Bucky just let Steve talk him into staying with him and Sam. Consumed by guilt, the only thing Bucky knows to do by way of apology is to let Sam hurt him back. Fortunately, Sam has better ideas.

stubborn wounds | @constantwriter85

sam x bucky

When Bucky’s badly injured after trying to protect his partner, Sam realizes that he needs Bucky more than he’d care to admit.

nurturing | the_buzz (AO3)

sam x bucky (pre-slash)

Bucky isn't the only one who feels alone after coming back from the Blip.

keep the ashes from my heart (and walk away) | @coffeeinallcaps

sam x bucky

In which Sam starts dating someone who is not Bucky, and Bucky pines, gets seriously injured, and proves himself wrong.

you're blowin' my mind (with the things you say to me) | @jemgirl86

sam x bucky

After getting an earful from Bucky at the cookout, Sarah suggests Sam and Bucky have a chat... and they do.

(sometimes) all i think about is you | @softhauntedwinds

sam x bucky

Bucky discovers Sam Wilson's pre-blip media content and things escalate.

when the wheels come off (i'll be your spare) | @returnsandreturns

sam x bucky

“What, the government doesn’t pay you enough to buy some art?” Bucky asks, a minute after Sam lets him into his apartment, gesturing at the blank walls. “It still looks like you just moved in.”

“Uhm, I’ve been busy being a national treasure,” Sam says. “The government doesn’t pay you enough to buy a shirt that fits?”

Bucky glances down at his long sleeve t-shirt for a second before he looks back up with a grin.

“I’m just a part-timer,” he says, shrugging.

forever and a day | @returnsandreturns

sam x bucky

When he sets the needle, Ella Fitzgerald croons and he glances over to see Sam sitting up, looking interested as she sings it’s very clear. . .our love is here to stay.

Bucky can flirt and he can really tell that he’s still got it by the way Sam’s mouth drops open for a moment when he saunters up and offers a hand, smiling with all the potential of where this could lead and asking, “Care for a dance, doll?”

Sam stares up at him before he sighs and mutters, “Fuck, that’s really working for me somehow,” and lets Bucky pull him onto his feet and into his arm.

world's greatest uncle | @novembermurray

sam x bucky

Rhodes arrives in Delacroix to bring Sam up to speed on their newest mission and deliver the bad news: Bucky Barnes has gone AWOL. He's in for a few surprising discoveries.

panic | alienspronkles (AO3)

sam x bucky

When Sam and Bucky go to Sarah's place for a get together, Bucky's anxiety starts kicking in. And he's trying to hide it from everyone there.

series

sam and bucky first date 2: electric boogaloo | ObsessiveExplosion (AO3)

sam x bucky

Sam is gearing up to ask Bucky on their first date, but he is interrupted by a bullet wound to the shoulder.

sam and bucky go to a fourth of july party | ObsessiveExplosion (AO3)

sam x bucky

Sam and Bucky, recently engaged, make an appearance at the annual Delacroix Fourth of July Block Party, and Sam ends up partying a little too hard.

the gang navigates and airport | ObsessiveExplosion (AO3)

sam x bucky

Sam and Bucky have to navigate an unexpected layover on their way home from a mission, made more difficult by the fact that Bucky has just taken a sleeping pill designed for Super Soldiers.

he followed me home one day | AshaCrone (AO3)

sam x bucky (au)

He was supposed to be starting fresh.

Sam Wilson was moving from New York to Washington and picked the worst possible Friday to finish his move. But he does what he does best- stops to help.

And asks a passing stranger for a little muscle to get some trapped people out of a car. Feeds the stranger a protein bar.

Now a lost cyborg has followed him home. And he isn't quite sure what to do about it.

[fallenfurther]

Homecoming - Earthbound

Chapter 2 of Homecoming. John and Jeff.

Thank you for the response to my first chapter and Josie will return later on as the story develops.. The next few chapters are set  within the last episode of the series  , between Jeff returning to the island and stepping out Thunderbird Two and him sitting down to take the rescue call. There is no way Jeff is fit and health after eight years alone in space, so these chapters fill in that recovery and continues as he finds his place within the family and organisation again. 

This chapter is an emotional one, so trigger warnings for trauma, death, last wishes. 

*********

Jeff placed his cutlery down on the empty plate, before leaning back into the cushioned back of the chair. The food was excellent, though anything was better than what he'd survived on for the past eight years. It helped that he knew there was no expense spared for his stay. It felt so strange but comfortable to feel full again and his body was feeling better for it. The nurse popped her head around the door and smiled.

"Want me to take the tray from you?"

"Yes please."

Lauren swished her way over to him, picked up the tray and left him alone. Jeff had various therapy sessions and doctors checking in on him and he welcomed the breaks from them. He just had to keep looking forward, knowing that the light at the other end was to spend the rest of his life with his sons. How he'd missed them. Each one imprinted in his mind, clear as day, spurring him on. They visited him when they could, though it depended entirely upon the number of callouts and if someone was fit enough to fly. International Rescue seemed much busier now than eight years ago. Eight years away from everything. So much had stayed the same and yet the important stuff had grown and changed. Particularly his little Alan. He was the smallest, just, but he'd matured, become more confident and was an amazing astronaut. Normally he would have been angry at Scott and the boys for letting someone so young fly Thunderbird Three. He'd always known the dangers of space. A teenager doesn't. But having seen Alan pilot Thunderbird Three, making her dance elegantly between asteroids, he understood. Alan had flown the Zero-XL to save him. The talent that boy had was incredible. How could Jeff deny the boy who followed so much in his own footsteps, who shared his passion for space? It pained him to know he hadn't been around to help nurture it.

Jeff forced himself out of his chair, joints complaining from his physiotherapy session that morning. The gravity in the Oort cloud had been variable but being back on Earth it had an intensity he could get no reprieve from. John had suggested a skint on Thunderbird 5, but the doctors insisted he have no Zero-G exposure until he was medically fit, insisting his body needed to adjust to gravity first. They also ruled out a trip in Thunderbird Three as the forces that would be applied to his still healing body would be too intense. Jeff was itching to witness Alan fly the Thunderbird first hand. Jeff opened the patio door and stepped out into the warm breeze and sunshine. He still had moments of panic when he realised he didn't have a helmet on, or when he realised it wasn't close by, but the fresh air transported him back to the time before he was stranded. Even now it didn't always feel real, being on Earth. Almost two months and he still had to pinch himself sometimes, still shed tears at the sight of his boys visiting. The small private garden attached to his room was a small haven where he could get used to the world again. He followed the path to the plant-laced wooden gazebo beneath which a table and chairs stood waiting. He took a stroll down the small path circling it, not quite ready to sit yet, the wind chimes tickling above him as he brushed his hand through the purple flowers, sending a wave of lavender in the air.

Eventually he had to sit down. His tablet was on the table where he'd left it that morning. Flicking it on, he pressed his thumb to the corner, activating International Rescue's secure network. John had willingly let him have access, walking him through the new filing system before letting him loose on it. Jeff was sure John or that little AI of his was monitoring every document he saw. He opened up yet another mission report, he'd started making a timeline of rescues, only for it to be completed by EOS, listing the main statistics such as time, craft used, and which sons were involved. The timeline was worrying. International Rescue had started off slow, only going to major rescues, however nowadays barely two days went by without a need to be called out. International Rescue had response times and equipment that outmatched local agencies, but it meant his boys were often being pushed to the limits. There were meant to be fail-safes in place and compulsory downtime to stop back to back working, but all that had been side-lined so lives could be saved. He'd started with the older reports and with each one his sons got better and more efficient at writing them, but he was starting to see their exhaustion. International Rescue hadn't been designed for the workload it was taking on and something was going to snap. Jeff feared it would be his boys. He'd just got them back and now he feared he'd lose one of them.

It was never meant to be this way. Jeff had expected a little increase in workload, but nothing like this. The GDF had tried to help, as he'd found out from the last report about their robots, but that had proved unsuccessful. He didn't want to raise it with them, not yet at least. Jeff planned to finish catching up with the reports, machine specifications and chat with Brains to see what had happened and what could be done. An idea was already forming, but he knew he had to be careful, and knew he couldn't step on anyone's toes. He could see his place in International Rescue wasn't where it used to be, though it had been suggested that he take over the comms so John could rest or do other work. However, this wouldn't solve the problem. They all loved him, were so happy he was back and yet it was exhausted men that visited him. They came often in ones or twos, often with bags under their eyes, sometimes even straight from a rescue in Virgil and Gordon's case, showering on Thunderbird Two which would be parked on the green behind the facility. They would come in trying to hide how tired they were to see him, sometimes a guilty look if they hadn't come sooner. Jeff understood now, he would complain if he didn't want to see them so badly. He should send them home with a clip around the ear and set his mother on them. Instead he opened his arms and embraced them, forever thankful that he still could.

He turned back to the reports, chimes filling the air with each light gust. He only looked up when some light footsteps came along the path, and a smile crossed his face. John, still in his uniform, settled into the chair before him.

"Afternoon Dad."

The smile on his son's face reached his tired eyes. John's inconsistent sleep was something Scott had mentioned. Getting John to sleep properly or to get him out of orbit was a challenge. Though he would often find time to pop down using the space elevator and would get Mum to help EOS with monitoring the world.

"Afternoon John, I'm guessing everything is going well? Will your brothers be joining us?"

"It is and no, they won't," John yawned, "it was a nineteen hour rescue so they are all catching up on sleep."

"Like you should be."

John rolled his eyes bringing a smile to Jeff's face. How many times had the boy done that as a teenager? Memories flooded back of John curled up with a book, Gordon, Alan or both on the living room floor, only for him to roll his eyes at something one of them had said. It was mainly Gordon, informing Alan of things that weren't quite true.

"I couldn't sleep."

"How about we go sit on the bench in the corner, the cushions make it extremely comfortable."

John nodded. Jeff brought the tablet with him and got up, his pace slower than his son's. John already had the cushions out the base and was on the seat when Jeff got to him. They sat down side-by-side, Jeff placing his arm over John's shoulder and pulling him close. His son didn't resist, laying his head against Jeff’s chest. This was the contact Jeff craved. Devoid of it for so many years, he still needed to be reminded that this was real.

"People died."

Jeff sat still, not saying the many things he could, knowing John needed time. John needed to work himself through it, needed to speak and be heard. So Jeff waited.

"It was a mudslide following an earthquake. Collapsed buildings and mud. That's what they had to deal with this time."

"Mud is like snow, it takes and rarely gives back. Hundreds of people are still missing, many bodies that may never be recovered, or will have to be DNA matched to be identified. We can do earthquakes and mudslides, we're efficient, but it takes its toll."

"They are all exhausted, physically and mentally. Grandma's enforced downtime but I don't know how long it'll last. Another rescue and they'll all be up and away before she can stop them. I would ground the craft for her but that would only cause suppressed anger to rise."

John's gaze was aimed at the ground, his whole body was unearthly still except for the rise and fall of his ribcage. Jeff knew John was thinking, debating what to say next. As the minutes passed and John remained silent Jeff knew it was time to coax it out.

"What about you? What weight are you carrying?"

John's fingers flexed, a hesitation, debating whether to share what was weighing him down more than gravity. It was the reason John was here, Jeff knew John saw and heard things the others didn't think about. Or if they did, they were helpless to do anything about it. John needed someone he could trust. He needed his father. Jeff's thumb started to rub the man's shoulder, offering more comfort.

"I…there were just so many people. They all had phones, all calling in. Some were petrified, others screamed, children and adults all with the same fear in their voices. All asking for help, to be rescued. Some were fine but it was a friend or family member in trouble. I talked to one young man through first aid, he had to tourniquet his younger brother's leg. His brother had already lost a lot of blood and was unconscious. I got Gordon to go there but when he found them it turns out the young man was in shock. He hadn't wanted to believe his brother was dead and he had done the first aid on the body. He had refused to leave his brother. It took Gordon five minutes to drag him away."

"I went straight from that to a child who was hurt and her mother wasn't responding. She cried; cried so much. She screamed when Virgil unpinned her arm and again when she realised he was leaving her mother behind."

A tear skipped down John's cheek. Jeff kept quiet, knowing too well what the screams of a child for a dead parent were like; how much they pierce your heart and tear into your soul. No matter whose child it was always painful.

"I heard so many last words. I've a document of names and last requests. Things they wanted to say. They are mainly 'I love you' to various family members and spouses. So many people wish they had said it more. I heard so many phone lines go quiet."

Another tear.

"I was working flat out, Grandma was taking calls from the island, but I still want to have done more. I wanted to save more. Maybe if I had directed Scott here and Virgil there or if I could have kept her calmer her rescue wouldn't have taken so long. So many lives were lost. So many we couldn't save. It's our job to save people. We should have saved them."

Jeff reached his right arm up and hugged John, tears silently falling. He knew there would always be rescues like this, where no matter what they did, many people would still die. There was nothing that could be said or done to fix it. The pain would always be felt. Holding his son, he let John cry it out in a safe place. It was his job, as a father, to be there when his sons needed him. He knew from the reports that he wouldn't be going out on rescues, his body too old and damaged to keep up with his boys. But just as his mother had, Jeff knew he would find his place again. He was still needed, even if it was just to answer the odd call, to help as Mum had all this time, to shoulder that burden and still be there at the end of the day, to help them process it all.

His eyes fell onto the mop of ginger hair, messed up by the position they'd been in, and smiled. It was the result of a hidden gene that had popped up and Lucille had adored it. It shone in direct sunlight and would give John an angelic glow. He’d been their quiet angel. Hardworking, often out of sight, but always there. The man's eyes were closed and he had become a dead weight against Jeff. It'd been more than eight years since a son had fallen asleep in his arms. There would be no complaint from Jeff. He would sit here for as long as John needed. Jeff peered down at his boy, heart full of love and pride for the quiet reserved man.

"I love you son."

[popculturebuffet]

Lilo and Stitch Crossovers: “Morpholomew” (American Dragon Long): Stop Trying to Make Am Drag a Thing (Commisson Done For WeirdKev27)

Hello all you happy people! And welcome to a brand new retrospective/story arc/thing from yours truly, comissoned directly by WeirdKev27. If you’d like to comission your own review or set of reviews like this one, it’s 5 bucks. Just contact me via my ask box or direct messages on this very blog or my discord technicolormuk#6550.

With Shadow Into Light in the books, Kev decided he wanted to comission something not duck related and a bit smaller as a buffer before the next big arc, ALL of three arcs from season 2 of Ducktales, and decided to go with something he suggested to be a while back as a possible future retrospective: The Lilo and Stitch Crossover episodes! 

That’s right for the next three weeks, with TWO reviews this week since I had a spot open up and Kev paid for this one in full and way in advance, we’ll be taking a trip to Hawaii to visit everyone’s faviorte little girl, her best friend/pet/killing machine as they try to find homes for his 625 cousins. 

I loved Lilo and Stitch when I was a kid: Disney admitely got their hooks in me on that one with their cool prequel comics in disney adventures. These comics set up the movie, showing Jumba creating Stitch and the events leading up to both getting captured. The movie did not disapoint with cool character designs, a drop dead gorgeous recreation of Hawaii, and a really heartfelt, heartbreaking and heartpumping story of loss, family, and ving rahmes voicing one of the few heroic child services workers i’ve seen in a medium, a refreshing change of pace. The film is a masterpiece and I really do need to watch it again sometime. 

Given the series was a huge hit and that thsi was before the big lull in the late 2000′s and early 2010′s where Disney refused to make any tv shows based on their movies, a series followed, given a lead in by the direct to video movie Stitch.

The movie set up the basic premise; 624 capsules containing Jumba’s previous experiments, cousins as Stitch calls them, ended up raining over Kauai, awakening when dropped into water or any other liquid. Lilo and Stitch, with help from Jumba, his live in boyfriend Pleakley, her tought but fair sister Nani, and her boyfriend David, who dosen’t show up as much as i’d like but is my boy so he gets a mention here. But anyways our heroes try to reform the various engines of distructoin who all have unique powers and find them their one place they truly belong. 

So yes the show was a Mons-type show clearly captalizing off pokemon.. but the slice of life setting as opposed to the shonen style of most shows following in pokemon’s wake, gave it it’s own unique feel: while our heroes did fight, it was more about shenanigans, adventures and what not with these unique creatures and the purpose is very heartflet: Lilo simply wants to give these guys the same kind of love and support she’s given Stitch and a chance to do good. 

Opposing them is Gantu, the shark bounty hunter from the first film who, now out of a job, is working for Dr. Hamstervile, an imprisoned sceintest and a character I really don’t like that much as he’s not funny or a genuine threat or both and feels like a waste of time. Thankfully he’s not the focus and Gantu is instead partnered with 625, my faviorite Lilo and Stitch character. 625, as the name suggests, is stitch’s immediate prototype.. but unlike Stitch is too lazy and peaceful to be a real threat and isn’t even really a villian despite being on Gantu’s side. He’s busy making samwitches, his calling to the point when he gets a name in the finale movie it’s naturally Ruben, and snarking at gantu. He’s sadly not in this one but hopefully it’s JUST this one. 

As you can tell I liked this show a LOT at the time. I haven’t watched it since, mostly because disney scarely replayed it after it’s run, but it was vibrant, fun and intresting and a nicely laidback and creative take. The fact I came into the franchise with the comics and thus 625, who was introduced there in fact, and had a hunger to know more about the other experiments certainly helped. It was great fun. 

But while I grew up with the show and the four shows it teamed up with, i’ve never seen these episodes before these reviews. I wondered why for years as I caught the tail end of the kim possible one and saw images ocasionally, but never saw them. 

Turns out it’s because in general Season 2 got screwed over. While Season 1 was pushed out the door fast and aired at a rapid pace Season 2.. was portioned out over several years, and the Recess crossover one, the last one aired and the last one i’ll be covering never even got to Disney channel, only airing on ABC kids, DIsney’s saturday morning block at the time I rarely watched. I did watch it’s predecessor one saturday morning though. Good stuff. 

Since I couldn’t find any making of stuff for why these episodes happened, my best guess is DIsney wanted some cross promotion, and the shows used were chosen because they were the most popular at the time and honestly all 4 represent some of disney’s best, with Recess being in heavy reruns at the time, hence i’ts conclusion despite the show being finished before Lilo And Stitch the movie came out, let alone the series. 

So yeah i’m taking this ride for the first time.. but I was happy to. While Kev pays for a lot of my work, I still have to accept the idea.. and this was a great one. It allows me to cover 5 amazing series and gage how much people would want to see reviews of said series on this blog in one fell swoop.

So to kick us off we have American Dragon: Jake Long, a series I waited forever to come to Disney + as I loved it at the time, badly need to rewatch it (Been busy ), and find it genuinely great: It’s a great teen superhero story about the magical protector of new york, with a charming lead, a great setting and horrifcally great villians in the violently racist magic creature hunting huntsclan.. and their top agent who happens to be jake’s love intrest Rose. It’s really excellent and i’m glad it’s now widely avaliable for all to see. I will say ahead that all four shows in this crossover arc are excellent, and were fine choices for this. 

So what happens when an action comedy about a hip hop teenage dragon meets a slice of life show about aliens? Find out under the cut. 

So we open at a fancy hotel where Lilo’s bringing lunch to her sister Nani when she runs into.. Keoni Jameson. 

The second I remembered this kid all the hate just came flooding back, coursing through my veigns. Just pure liquid hatred for this little perosnalitiless little punk. Keoni is Lilo’s crush and local “stupid white audience stand in”. He has no real personality other than “generic cool kid” and “likes skating���, and just sucks the air out of the room anytime he’s in an episode. Keoni is part of a recurring problem in cartoons across the ages, one that’s slowly going away: the bland love intrest. Intorducing a character whose only traits are being cool for the lead to fawn over with usually no intent of either getting the two togehter or just ending it. IT’s annoying, it was in a good chunk of my childhood, I wish it’d stop. I cannot tell you how many shows used this trope. There were exceptions, American Dragon Jake Long actually used it well by not only making Rose a fleshed out character..  but making her jake’s nemisis in their other lives, and thus making things increidbly difficult on both once the truth comes out, with Jake grappling with if he can trust her or not and Rose grappling with the slow relization eveyrthing she was taught her whole life was wrong.

And again I have seen GOOD storylines using this as a tool: Dipper and Wendy ended with her having been aware teh whole time, but simply not knowing how to let him down given the age gap, and Regular Show rebounded the best from it: it turned the stop and start relatoinshpi of Mordecai and Margret’s relationship into a character flaw for him, openly explored it.. and ended up having him work past it and actually date her for a bit. Before she moved away, he got an even better love interest, then they destoryed the relationship in the worst way posisble and I wil lbe getting to that at some point. Some point. 

So yeah even at the time it was done better, hindsight haas only made it worse and it made watching the first few minutes tough because I had to keep pasuing because I hate him so damn much. He just adds NOTHING to the show and is a blank yanwing void from which no good came out of and I was terrified he’d be in the rest of the episode. Thankfully while he drives the plot he’s only in this scene.. but it’s still one more scene than both 625 and Pleakly got. yeah both are missing, as is nani. 

I did uncover one fun fact that made things a bit easier though: The crew ALSO hated Keoni. No really. Disney forced the character on them as they wanted an audience surrogate, and this abomination is what popped out. They DID NOT want him here and likely only used him as mcuh as they did because Disney forced it on them. And Disney would NOT learn from this as Star Vs got saddled with Alphonso and Ferguson soley because of network mandate. The two aren’t TERRIBLE characters but they aren’t great and feel as tacked on as they were. And part of this does fall on the crew: you CAN twist a stupid mandate like this to work well: Joe Murray was asked to add “A female character with a hook”, as in some sort of dumb gimmick to Rocko. He used those words, meant to create a superfical girl power cardboard cutout.. and created the wonderful Dr. Hutchenson, a bright cheery doctor, the series best sidecharacter.. and someone with a hook hand. But I won’t go too hard on them: they probably didn’t have as much room to manuver and the fact Keoni was sitll being shoved into episodes in season 2 tells me they likely had a set number of episodes he had to show up. I’m suprised they didn’t demand they have characters ask “Where’s Keonie?” any time he wasn’t in an episode. He was unecessary and it comes across with a massive chunk of unforutnate implications: that they didn’t think a series with a mostly hawaiann cast would work, that they wanted at least one other “nice” white character to offset myrtle instead of having the only major white character be a bully and antagonist, and that they thought tehir mostly white audience coudln’t enjoy a series without a white character, which as someone who was in the target demo at the time, I call bullshit on. As I said I hated him then, I hate him now and his involvement is the worst aspect of this episode. 

So after Lilo fawns over him for a bit we find out this chonk of wood’s purpose in the episode: to set up the plot. There’s a massive Skate Competition coming to town with the prize being a really cool skateboard.  This plot point itself.. I don’t mind. Jake is a skater, it’s part of his character and one of the things he loves doing in what minsicule spare time he has. And while it was a common trope at the time having a character skateboard really dosen’t harm most works. We’ve gotten great characters like Jake, Jackie Lynn Thomas, Branwen and Ronnie Anne Santiago out of it, and it feels like natural parts of the character, and frankly An Extremley Goofy Movie wouldn’t be NEARLY as awesome without having skateboarding bizzarley attached to the plot via the college x-games. Granted somtimes you get Rocket Power out of the deal but that’s the price you pay for the good stuff. I only regret it’s involved because Keoni has to be there and I had to pause multiple times to get through his scene. He’s just a sampler platter of terrible decisions made in 2000′s cartoons and he irritates me more than this guy. 

And anyone whose read my Loud House reviews can tell you that is a high bar to clear. 

So naturally Lilo wants to enter the Hawiann X-Games to get the board for Keoni. Though I will give the writers credit for having Stitch voice their thoughts and the audiences thoughts by having him take Keoni’s picture and throw it in the garbage. Where he belongs. 

Lilo’s not great at it as they practice.. and said practice naturally ends up waking up a new experiment, 316.. who i’m just going to go ahead and call Morpholomew. Stitch eventually catches him though like many of the experiments he’s not actively malevelolent and is easy enough to get home. 

Jumba gets to his schitck of breaking down what the experiment of the week does: In this case Morpholomew is  a shapeshifter though he has a VERY intresting twist on those powers: while he can naturally morph himself into anything he’s seen or has a picture of, he can do the same to anyone he touches. It dosen’t effect their voices, but otherwise it’s a perfect recreation. 

So Lilo instead of finding him a home right away.. decides to wait until after the compettition because we need him for the plot. 

So at the Skateboard Competittion Lilo tries to enter, but finds she’s too young.. but since she has a picture of Keoni, which is a nice way to use her photo hobby from the movie for plot reasons and thus dosen’t feel like an ass pull. Why Keoni’s not in town to skate is as his dad left because it’d be too crowded.. even though the event is at the resort he owns. 

So while Lilo commits identtity theft, our guest star appears. He’s cool, he’s hot like a frozen son, he’s young and fast he’s the chosen one, people i’m not braggin, i’ts the American Dragon. Jake is here for two reasons: the first is that Grandpa Long got reports of magical creatures out in the open, so naturally they need to look into that. It’s a clever way to get him, along with Grandpa, Fu, Trixie and Spud, over to Hawaii. The Dragon Council would defintely be suspcious hearing about this, and my guess to why they hadn’t sent another dragon over is they simply dont’ have one on the islands. As for why the Huntsclan didn’t get involved in any way, it’s simply too public for them.  With the magical community in new york, they don’t have to worry about exposure because neither side wants it, so neither side can out the other. Here with a bunch of creatures out in the open it runs the risk of the Hunstclan being dragged into the light.. and given the populace dosne’t care about the “magical creatures” alongside them, it would make them look like the monsters they are. 

Spud and Trixie tagging along also makes sense besides “they needed them for the plot”: While they’d obviously want to come to Hawaii, the skate competition is likely Jake’s cover for why he’s there, as well as one for why it’s just him and grandpa going with a couple of his friends so they don’t have to deal with manuvering around jake’s dad. That sad them never TELLING jake’s Dad is it’s own can of worms as it feels cruel, made things harder for jake and there was no real reason not to. At worst he’d want Jake to stop for his own saftey but given ther’es an active threat in  the huntsclan for the first season and a half, NOT helping people would be the right thing and I feel he’s a sensible enough man to understand eventually. 

And it’s stuff like this that already makes this crossover really work for me: they don’t really have to strain to get Jake over there or tell the audience heavily, the blanks fill in themslves. Or I am but that’s because it’s my job and I love doin it. 

So everyone goes off to their corners; Jake to do a few practice runs, Foo Dog to bet on his friend because of course, Trixie and Spud to go to the beach (even though Spud’s terrified of sharks so I question why Trixie needs him for this), and in a delightfully adorable subplot, finds a lady to woo: local fruit stand vendoer and crankly old lady Mrs. Hasagawa. 

I am here for this subplot: While Grandpa not focusing on the mission is weird for him that’s the entire point.. and their just really cute together. He’s smitten with her entirely because he sees her chewing out one of the people running the contest for making her sign too small. And he performs one hell of a romantic gesture by, while everyone’s back is turned, using his dragon fire to make an add for her on the skate ramp itself, and they have a lovely montage of their time together.. which also weirdly includes grandpa using his dragon fire on stage inf ront of everyone which makes no sense for his charcter but is so cute and does feature david I really don’t care. The writers of Lilo and Stitch probably weren’t deeply familiar with the show and likely just wanted a fun gag. Could be wrong there but it’s cute. He continues to act grossly out of character by trying to avoid going home at the end.. but again I find it simply because he’s in love, they have genuine chemstiry and I like to think they stayed in touch and he retired out there at some point once Jake was old enough to handle things himself. This may not be a ship I expected to support going in but I will die for it going out. 

So back to the main plot, Lilo uses Keoni’s body to imitate him which... she’s only loosely called out on and realizes is bad by the end only because she gets stuck in another body. And that’s not even getting into the fact she BREAKS UP WITH KEONI’S GIRLFRIEND. Yes really.. she just does that to get her out of the way. She comes around and realizes she was wrong and tries to fix it which would be fine.. if hte episode didn’t try to cop it out by revealing “Oh she’s not his girlfriend, she’s just someone who keeps telling people that”. It just feels lazy and dumb and a way to keep Lilo’s crush on Keoni for reasons I DO. NOT. GET. But the identity theft is just brushed aside by everyone: Keoni never finds out, and Jake just brushes it off. The real issue is more her trying to bribe keoni into likng her which while something kids need to learn is not the only thing she did wrong here. It feels like they didn’t think all the implications out here and it hampers the episode

Speaking of which as Gantu captures Jake, he sees him transform into dragon mode and assumes he’s the experiment, Jake’s charactization is pretty shallow.  And why yes it DOES feel weird writing sentences about a character with the same name thank you for asking. I wasn’t expecting a deep character piece or anything: This is a guest spot, the writers here are not the same normal ones for American Dragon. That’s fine. The problem.. is that they clearly did not get Jake. Grandpa being partly out of character is half the joke, Trixie actually gets a really nice moment towards the end, and Spud.. is eh. But out of them Jake just feels like a basic character description: He likes hip hop, he likes skateboards, he calls himself Am Drag despite that sounding like a good name for a drag act but a terrible name to shorten your title, he fights.. that’s it. 

While jake is all of that in the main series, he’s also a kind young man who while sometimes irresponsible does the right thing when the chips are down.  He’s someone weighed down by a responsiblity he didn’t ask for, often makes his life more difficult and often finds himself in trouble because his mother and grandfather won’t bother to tell his dad he’s a dragon. Yes that part still bothers me, and I don’t see why we couldn’t just have a superhero show where both parents know. But regardless this just dosen’t feel like Jake , like they just watched the intro and that was it. Jake feels more like a plot device in his own crossover. 

That being said there is some good stuff: The minute Jake realizes some Sci Fi stuff is going on instead of hte normal magic stuff he tells him “The am drag’s show isn’t about sci fi” a nice meta bit and then breaks out. Meanwhile Lilo takes on his form.. and ends up stuck after badly botching her run again, as Gantu finds the real shapeshifter. 

We get the best stretch of the episode from here though: Lilo awkardly tries to play jake and like jake we get a nice meta nod to how diffrent their show is as she’s worried about his belief in magical creatures.. and is startled out of her charade when Foo Dog talks, a really nice bit especially since it’s tame compared to the weirdness he deals with. Spud and Trixie have questions... only for Jake to show up and his agressive behavior leads to the best bit of the episode: Jake Vs Stitch. The catlyst is understandable: jake has no idea why Lilo’s taken his identity and Sttich is just protecting his best friend from harm. The animation is fluid, the fight is fun and quick and uses both’s powers stellarl. Whle “two heroes get into a misunderstanding and then fight” is a well worn cliche at this point, it’s moments like this that show why: you get to see two heroes who in this case never have interacted before or sense, duke it out, why each is special and it’s fun to watch. 

Lilo breaks it up, and admits to the whole thing.. including the whole give Keani the board stuff. While Jake and Spud, being awkard with girls and a loveable moron don’t see the problem with that Trixie gets a moment to shine. As far as I can remember she really didn’t get much on the show proper so it was a nice suprise to see her mentor lilo her, telling her trying to give someone gifts to love you is not okay, she should just be herself all that good stuff. It’s a nice character stuff and tha’ts the kind of character interaction this episode needed more of. 

With the misunderstandings washed away our heroes team up and storm gantu’s ship leading to another great sequence as Stitch rides on Jake’s back while the two keep him busy and Lilo gets turned back, Trixie complimenting her dress “Thanks I have 10 just like it at home”. It’s such a sweet and genuine moment” They head back out and gantu semeingly grabs morpholmew from where they hide.. only to find out when he gets back it’s spud, our adorable little blob monster transforming Gantu into a bunny and our heroes leaving. How does Gantu get out of being a bunny?

But it’s a nice enough gag. So we end the episode. We get another nice gag as grandpa had himself and his lady transformed to try and avoid going home, and Jake is fine with having lost out on the board what matters is he made a friend. Sadly we did not get a followup in ADJL., but spud does name our experiment, Morpholomew. 

We end on Morph getting his home: a costume shop where he gets paid in fried chicken, he was shown to enjoy it throughtout the episode and changes people into things. It’s a nice little button to the episode and one of the funnest parts of the show was figuring out where the experiment would end up at the end. 

Final Thoughts:

This episode is a really mixed bag. There is some good character interactions, two tremendous fight scens and Trixie gets a chance to shine for once if only for a scene or two, and the clashing genres end up making for some great jokes> The shows do go well together as while Lilo and Stitch is more laid back both have slice of life elements. And hasgawa X Grandpa is just oto cute for words. 

The episode is held back by Jake and Lilo’s lackluster characterizatons: Jake is simply the theme song as a character, which in theory is awesome because that theme song slaps but in practice is pretty lame, and Lilo is selfish and irresponsible even for her in a way that dosen’t feel at all convincing. It drags down what’s otherwise a fun crossover and Morpholomew is truly a unique and wonderful experiment. Still if you like either show it’s worth a watch even if you have to suffer through Keoni for it. It’s worth it.. I just wish it was better and hopefully the next 3 will keep the good parts but take out the bad. Granted this was produced last so I could be wrong, but here’s hoping.  Oh this episode also featured Miranda Cosgrove as the girl who claims to be Keoni’s girlfriend. This is also Keoni’s last episode meaning I do NOT have to worry about accidently running into him. Thank fucking christ. 

Next Time On American Dragon Jake Long: Jake’s dad drags him and his friends on a camping trip and Jake ends up encountering the Jersey Devil. Now all they need is a sexy lady devil cake to lure it out... what it worked for the Cake Boss. And yes that happened, Allison Pregler did an episode on that episode. Check it out. 

Next Time On Lilo and Stitch Crossovers: It’s the family, the family, proud familllyyy as the Prouds take a vacation at Peakly and Jumbas bed but not breakfast and we get some kind of squirrel demon for our experiment of the week. We also get Wizard Kelly appearing...

See you at the next rainbow. 

[perpetualoverthinker]

New In Town (JJ x Reader)

(not my gif!)

Summary: It’s junior year on the Outer Banks and a new face shows up in town, catching the attention of a particular blunt rolling surfer...

Warnings: underage drinking, swearing, weed

WC: 2.3k

A/N: Sooo I’m not really sure what this is...I just had a really strong urge to write something and so I just wrote whatever came to mind (aka Outer Banks because that’s all I can think about rn lol). Most of this first part is exposition (I’m sorry!!) but hopefully things will spice up in the next chapter, even though I plan on making this a slow burn. Also, I’m not sure how often I’ll update this story, but for now I plan on continuing to write it! This is my first time writing fanfic, so please go easy on me lol. I love getting feedback on the things I write, so don’t hesitate to leave some (or write anything you’d like to see in following chapters)! 

When your dad told you he was uprooting the whole family away from the city and down to the Outer Banks, you felt your heart drop. The thought of leaving New York, the only home you had ever known, and moving down south filled you with dread. How were you supposed to adjust? You wouldn’t see your friends, you would be leaving the high school you knew so well, and you didn’t even like the beach that much. You had nothing to look forward to in North Carolina.

Your dad had told you and your sisters that it would be a fresh start. He said that he had some friends down there and that this was your chance to begin anew. After your mom had died, your father had felt there were too many memories in New York. Too many fresh wounds. You felt differently, of course, and fought him on it. Sometimes it felt like you were winning the argument and other times it felt like you had no chance. Ultimately, you lost.

The summer before junior year was coming to an end as the car pulled up into your new driveway. The house was fancy and absurdly big for your four-person family. It perfectly blended in with the large, luxurious houses scattered throughout the neighborhood. You laughed at the gaudiness of it all. You quickly jumped out of the car and waited with your sisters as the moving truck slowly parked along the curb.

“Girls, help me with the boxes while I unlock the door, will you?” your dad shouted as he headed for the front door.

You made your way to the truck and started heaving boxes towards the house, your sisters trailing behind you, lugging whatever they could. You made sure you picked up the boxes labeled “y/n’s room” first. All you wanted was to escape to your room and wallow. As you were about to step inside the house, you noticed a girl about your age running up your driveway. Dressed in a floral summer dress, long blonde hair flowing behind her, she shouted, “Hey!” You watched her wearily as you dropped the boxes at your feet.

“You’re the new neighbors, right?”

“We indeed are!” your dad exclaimed as he came up behind you and placed his hands on your shoulders.

“I’m Sarah,” she said as she extended her hand out to your dad, “I live just around here and thought I should introduce myself.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Sarah.” He shook her hand, smiling. “We’re the y/l/ns. This is Nicky and Jo.” he said while gesturing to the two little girls (who were already getting bored of the conversation) sitting cross-legged on the ground, picking at the grass. “And this is y/n.” He shook your shoulders gently as you smiled awkwardly at the pretty girl.

“So, do you go to Kildare High School?”

“Ah, no. I go to the private school around here. But I have some friends who go to the public school.”

“Maybe you could introduce them to y/n!” You wished your father would stop talking sometimes. “Well, I should start hauling those boxes in. y/n, just bring up your boxes when you’re done.” He kissed you on the side of the head, waved at Sarah, and walked back inside, Nicky and Jo scampering behind him.

“I should probably head back,” Sarah pointed her thumb back and started to walk away but stopped midway. “Hey, um, I don’t know what you’re doing later tonight, but my friends are having an end-of-summer party down at the boneyard if you want to come?”

“Boneyard?”

“Oh, it’s just a beach. You’re welcome to come, though. Get to know some people on the island. It’s around 10.”

“Sure, I guess. I’ll see you then…”

“Great! I’ll meet you back here!” At that, she turned around and walked back down the driveway.

• • •

Soon enough, 10 o’clock came around and you were standing outside your front door. You weren’t sure what you were doing. The girl seemed nice enough, but how badly did you really want to make friends on an island you wished you weren’t on?

“Hey! You ready to go?” Once again, Sarah came jogging up your driveway and held up a six-pack of beer.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

As you strolled along the road headed towards the beach, you admired the environment surrounding you. Being in the city your whole life, you weren’t used to seeing mass amounts of trees or hearing crickets chirp through the night. The steady hum of the night seemed to ease some of your tension. You took a moment to close your eyes and take it in while you walked. The girl beside you glanced over at you and smiled.

“I think that’s the most I’ve seen you relax. Earlier today, it looked like you couldn’t wait to run away from me,” she chuckled.

“Sorry about that. Let’s just say moving wasn’t my idea.”

“So why did you move?”

You felt your throat go a little dry. “Um, my mom passed away about eight months ago.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” She grabbed your hand and squeezed it.

“So my dad thought it would be a good idea to move here and get a new start. Me on the other hand, I thought we should’ve just stayed in New York.”

“Well, you’ve already made your first friend.” She smiled at you and kept holding your hand as you stumbled down to the beach.

Right away, you noticed an unusual split between partygoers. Scattered on one side of the beach stood people dressed in pastel polos, khaki shorts, boat shoes and designer bathing suits. On the other side, people were dressed in less expensive and more casual clothes.

A group of kids surrounding a beer keg looked over towards you and Sarah and started waving at the girl next to you. Sarah tugged you along towards the group. Letting go of your hand, she went to hug each kid. You suddenly felt out of place with the absence of your new friend’s hand.

Within the little huddle stood three boys and a girl. Sarah had gone up and kissed the brunette boy wearing a bandana around his neck and a button up shirt (in which the buttons seemed highly unnecessary, for he nearly had all of them unbuttoned). Stood beside him was a darker skinned boy wearing a snapback. He had his arms around the two other members of the group while he laughed along to whatever Sarah was saying at the moment. The girl had dark curly hair and friendship bracelets lined both of her wrists while the last boy was blonde and wore a cutoff shirt. He held a blunt in one hand and a beer in the other. You couldn’t help but notice that they were all obscenely attractive.

Where the fuck am I?

“Alright, alright, everyone. We have a newbie here! She’s my new neighbor.” Sarah announced as she gestured towards you. Suddenly all eyes were on you.

“Well hello there…” the blonde boy said while he sauntered over to you. You could tell he was trying to flirt, and your cheeks went red.

“JJ cool it. Don’t freak her out.” The other girl came up to you and grinned. “Don’t mind the horndog over here. I’m Kiara, but you can call me Kie.” You shook her hand. “And that’s John B. and Pope.” She pointed at each boy respectively. “And now you know who this idiot is.” She playfully shoved the blonde’s arm.

“I’m y/n.”

“Beer?” John B. asked, holding up a red solo cup. You nodded and moved closer to the group. “So y/n, where you from?”

“New York.”

“So a city girl, huh?” JJ laughed and raised an eyebrow at you.

“Yeah, not much of a beach person I guess.”

“Not a beach person and she moves to the Outer Banks. I think you’ve chosen the wrong place to live.” Pope laughed as he downed the rest of his beer.

“What’s with the preppy kids separated from everyone else?” you ask, looking back towards the polo clad group. All of them except Sarah scoff at the mention of them. “What?” You looked at Sarah, confused.

“Listen, here on the island there are the kooks,” John B. paused to point over at the group, “and the pogues.” He made a circling gesture towards his friends.

“The kooks are rich entitled assholes who live on Figure Eight and pogues are the low-lives who live on the Cut. It’s war, my friend.” JJ stated while he glared at the kooks.

You tried stifling your laughter at the absurdness of it all after seeing the serious faces which had fallen upon the group. Your attempt to hold it in was feeble. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!” you burst out.

“Thank you! Finally someone who agrees with me!” Sarah beamed.

“It’s not stupid! They really fucking suck!” JJ exclaimed.

“Well don’t you think it’s at least a little stupid? I mean come on. Only people in movies or celebrities have rivalries.”

“You’ll change your mind once you speak to one of them…” You only shook your head and chuckled to yourself. That is, until you noticed a few of the kooks heading over towards the keg.

“Jesus, here we fucking go.” JJ complained as he stepped in front of you. “What do you want Rafe?”

The tall blonde boy approaching smirked. “I heard I got a new neighbor,” he said while eying you up and down. All you could do was make a face. “Just wanted to make sure she wasn’t making the same mistake my sister made, hanging out with you losers.”

“And why does who I decide to hang out with concern you?” you asked as you sidestepped out of JJ’s protective stance.

“Woah, fiery. I like that…” he chuckled. You noticed JJ’s body tense when Rafe took a step towards you. You rolled your eyes and stepped back to avoid him getting any closer.

“Listen, not gonna happen bud.” You turned around and started walking to the keg, hoping to just end the unwanted interaction there.

“Whatever, your loss!” he called out. “Hope you enjoy whoring yourself out to these dirty pogues.” You stopped dead in your tracks, whipping yourself around. Before you could let out a response, JJ charged Rafe and punched him square in the jaw. In one swift moment, Rafe’s goonies and the pogues behind you rushed towards the two squabbling boys. Rafe threw some punches and busted JJ’s eyebrow, but JJ soon had Rafe beneath him and was throwing punch after punch. You could see blood dripping down the kook’s face, splattering after each blow. Beside you, Kie and Sarah were yelling at the boys to stop. John B. and Pope both rushed to wrangle JJ off of Rafe as the kooks attempted to drag him out from under.

“You’re fucking dead, pogue!” Rafe pointed at JJ as he retreated with his friends.

Looking over at JJ, one wouldn’t have thought he had just gotten into a fight. Sure, scrapes littered his face and you could see purple starting to blossom along his cheek and eye but plastered on his face was a shit eating grin. “Why the fuck are you smiling?”

“Because I won,” he smirked and winked at you. You shook your head, laughing nervously.

Turning to Sarah, you said, “Listen, I think I’m gonna head home.”

“What? But you just got here!” she pouted, running up to you and grabbing your hands.

“I think I’ve seen everything I need to. There was beer, banter, a fight. I’m already partied out.” You chuckle, more to yourself than to Sarah.

“Alright, fine. You want me to walk you home?”

“I can do it.” You and Sarah turned to look at JJ as he raised his hand slightly. “I’ve got to clean up anyways,” he said, gesturing to his face.

“Ok, sure.” You looked at him, once again blushing, as he moved towards you.

The walk home was mostly silent, with the exception of you giving directions every so often. JJ had rolled another blunt and the two of you were passing it between each other, huffing out smoke as you walked. You weren’t sure why he had volunteered to walk you home. Maybe he felt bad for you, you thought. Or maybe he just wanted to get in your pants. The thought made your cheeks flush. All you knew was that the silence was eating away at you.

“Hey, thanks for tonight,” you mumbled, looking down at your feet.

“For what?”

“Defending me, walking me home…”

“Oh, no problem.” You saw him blush a little. “Rafe’s an asshole. He had it coming.”

“You probably didn’t need to punch him,” you said as you glanced at his scraped-up face.

“What’s the fun in that?” The smirk from before reappeared.

“You find getting punched in the face fun?” you asked incredulously.

“Nah…I find the punching fun.” He took a drag of the blunt and passed it to you. As the two of you were approaching your house, you found yourself wishing you hadn’t walked so fast.

You slowed down at the end of the driveway and turned to JJ. “Well, this is me…” JJ stopped and stared at the house before him, letting out a low whistle. “What?”

“When Sarah said you were her neighbor, I knew you were rich, but I didn’t know you were rich rich.” You scoffed at the remark, rolling your eyes.

“I swear to god, if you call me a kook, I’ll kick your ass,” you said in a serious tone, but you couldn’t help but smile.

“Is that a threat?” He bit his lip and cocked his eyebrow.

“Maybe…” you said slyly as you walked up towards your front door, JJ still following. Slipping your key into the lock and opening the door, you looked back at him. “I’ll see you around pogue.” Then you shut the door.

“Jesus…” JJ mumbled under his breath, turning the other way and laughing to himself.

Leaning against the door, you smiled ear to ear. Maybe you did have something to look forward to on this island…

CH 2

[quickspinner]

Triple Threat

Here it is, the 500 followers special, posted hot off the presses as promised because not only did I hit 500 followers before the poll even closed, I’m now at 520! My mind is blown. Thank you all for sticking around this little corner of the lukanette trash heap and especially for all your replies/comments/reblogs, I covet every single one. 

So you guys voted and you wanted to see Multimouse flirting with Viperion, and Marinette flirting with Viperion was a very close runner up, so I decided to do both, and I threw in a little Viperbug flirting for you just because I love you. So I hope you enjoy, and extra love to @livrever for giving me a sanity check when I needed it because y’all, I love you so much I wrote an akuma for you and even though most of the battle happened off-screen I still wasn’t sure whether the whole thing would hang together or not. 

I hate long author’s notes and this one is already wordy, but I just want to say again, thank you for being here and I appreciate all 520 of you that are here now and everyone who stumbles on this in the future. 

“Stupid Chat,” Ladybug muttered to herself between swings. “Stupid, overprotective Chat, making everything more complicated than it needs to be because of this stupid identity bullshit again and why am I still keeping up this ridiculousness now that Master Fu’s gone I have no idea…” 

She ought to be grateful, she knew. Later, she would be touched by Chat’s affection and protectiveness towards her civilian self, but right now it was just a pain in her red-and-black spotted ass. Fortunately, the akuma knew her name but not much else about her, which meant Chat was able to fool it into following him on a wild goose chase to buy Ladybug time to get help that they didn’t actually need but whatever. 

But it was fine. This was fine. She had a plan. In the three years that she’d been Ladybug she’d gotten very good at thinking on her feet. She tried not to call on Viperion too often, because it seemed like a bad idea to muck around with time too much, but the fact was, his power was both incredibly useful and incredibly reassuring for her. 

And, either because Luka was older or perhaps because he was simply more mature than the rest of the team, he’d been the first to push his powers past his original time limit, and he still had the longest time limit on the team, though he wasn’t anywhere near the unlimited time that supposedly came with being “an adult.” Marinette had questioned Tikki about that, whether it was a question of physical maturity or mental maturity or both, but it turned out that questioning a being as old as Tikki about the minutiae of human growth was...frustrating. Tikki’s concept of time was colored by her nearly-eternal perspective, and the markers of adulthood changed and shifted over the centuries.

In any case, second chances were all too scarce in her life and it was only the knowledge that all magic had a price and the fear that there had to be a catch somewhere kept her from calling on it more frequently. 

Seeing the Captain and Juleka both on deck, Ladybug crouched on the bank and squinted. It looked like Juleka and Luka’s room was empty, so she should be able to just slip through the porthole if she timed it right.  

Well, regardless of whatever method the Miraculous used to measure adultness, Marinette thought as she made her way through the porthole with some Miraculous-aided acrobatics, Luka had matured in the three years they’d known each other both mentally, and...and physically...oh dear. Ladybug gasped and slapped a hand over her mouth, which did absolutely nothing to salvage the situation, since her eyes were still wide and staring.

Luka was standing in the doorway in his boxers, hair dripping into the towel around his shoulders, a faint blush growing on his face. “Ladybug. I wasn’t expecting you. Obviously.” 

Ladybug yelped and turned her back, this time slapping her hands over her eyes, though too late to do either of them any good. “I’m sorry!” Ladybug cried. “I just—your family was on  deck and I didn’t want anyone to see me coming in and the room was empty so I thought I could just—but I didn’t expect you to—“‘

“It’s fine,” Luka chuckled weakly, and she could hear him moving around behind her. “Nothing you wouldn’t see at the beach. Living in a house full of girls I don’t actually make it a practice to run around naked. You can look now.” 

“Good. Sound policy,” Ladybug managed, like she wasn’t dying of embarrassment. She dropped her hands and turned around and then bit the inside of her cheek to keep in another scream. He had his jeans on now but he was still digging through a pile of shirts on the end of his bed and she was staring at his bare back. Which wasn’t anything she hadn’t seen before, really, but only when she was prepared and had Alya to smack her if she started...staring. Not ogling. Definitely not. 

“I’m assuming you need me for something?” he prompted, glancing over his shoulder. 

“Yes! Uh…” Ladybug shook herself back to reality and outlined the situation. How there had been a big design contest this week and one of the losers was taking it badly and had it out for the winner, a girl named—

“Marinette?” Luka turned to look at her sharply, now fully clothed (which, it turned out, helped less than it should have since knowing what he looked like under the shirt made her more than able to trace the lines his body made in it NOT THAT SHE WAS OH GOD) “Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

“Ah, yes,” Ladybug said, surprised enough to be shocked out of her absolutely-not-ogling. “You, um...know her?” 

“Yes, of course I do. If Marinette’s in trouble, I’ll do anything you need,” Luka declared, a fire in his eyes that almost made her step back. Ladybug paused and studied him for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Can you do this, Luka?” Ladybug asked, folding her arms. “The last thing I need is to suddenly be facing an akumatized Viperion with time reset powers. I know you guys are friends but if you’re more than that I need to know now.” What was she doing? It was a good thing she was still blushing from earlier. Why was she asking this, she knew he was over her, she was like a little sister to him and—wait, was he blushing? 

Luka looked away, but she was sure she saw red in his face. “We’re just friends,” he said softly. “Even if I sometimes wish we were more.” He glanced at her, and his blush deepened as he dropped his eyes again. “Maybe more than sometimes. I can do this, Ladybug. I won’t let my feelings for Marinette interfere. I promise.” He gave a lopsided smile. “I’ve gotten pretty good at keeping a lid on it.” 

“Oh,” Ladybug blinked. “I see.” She...wasn’t as surprised as she should be. Luka had never really made a secret of his feelings, but even if she hadn’t quite believed herself every time she told herself he was over her, she hadn’t expected him to be so...passionate about it. Especially after all this time. Especially after everything that had happened. “Well—well okay, if you think you can do this then I trust you.” She held out the box. 

Luka took the bracelet, greeted Sass briefly and transformed as Ladybug continued her instructions.

“I wanted to just hide Marinette but Chat thinks she needs more protection. He’s distracting the akuma now. You pick Marinette up at her home and keep her with you. Obviously, you’ll use Second Chance to keep her safe, but it might also take a few tries for Rena to get the illusion right, so you’ll also need to be in position to observe and report.” She couldn’t help a smile, feeling a rush of affection as the familiar green eyes blinked back at her. “I trust your judgement, so I’m not going to micromanage you; figure out what works and do it. Here’s the catch, though.” She folded her arms. “I won’t be there. I can’t explain to you why. Once the akuma’s focus is off Marinette, take her home, and proceed to Phase Two.” She continued giving him instructions and he listened attentively, asking only a few questions. 

Luka nodded as she finished. “I won’t let you down,” he said firmly. 

“You never have,” Ladybug smiled, and Luka looked...flattered? Almost shy. And that was kind of weird. Luka was reserved, sure, but never shy.

People did seem to find Ladybug intimidating, though. And it was kind of...cute. “You know,” she found herself saying as she strolled closer to him. “I think this Marinette girl’s awfully lucky to have caught your eye. I’m sure she’ll appreciate your help. I know I do.” Ladybug gave him a slow smile. She reached up and touched his mask with two fingers. Viperion’s eyes widened slightly. “I think I prefer blue eyes to green though.” 

“Me too,” he said almost absently, searching her face, and she thought she saw a hint of color just below the line of his mask. That made her smile wider. 

“It’s a bit of a complicated plan today, but I think you can handle it. Good luck.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek, and before Luka could react, she dove out of the porthole, yo-yo catching just in time to send her skimming away above the water. 

Luka—Viperion, now—swallowed hard, swaying slightly in place. Because it was a plain fact that Ladybug was hot, as well as strong, smart as a whip, and tough as nails. All things that very much appealed to him, even if his heart was still given elsewhere, and he...didn’t quite know what to do with the last few minutes.

Viperion shook himself. He had more important things to worry about. 

...Starting with how to leave the boat without being seen by his family. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Ladybug had caught him off guard this morning, and between having just woken up and running into Ladybug in his underwear—not to mention whatever that was just now—he was feeling a little off balance. It should have occurred to him to wait until he was off the boat to transform. 

Well, he’d figure something out. It sounded like his job was simple enough. He wasn’t super happy about having Marinette actually at the battle site, but he could see Chat’s point; it was the only way they knew she was absolutely protected and the akuma couldn’t pull a double-fake on them to come back for her. It had happened before. Hanging back with him, Marinette would be as protected as possible, out of sight of the villain to keep her from accidentally interfering with Rena’s illusion, with Second Chance as a backup if something went wrong.

Somehow, he just had to try and not be too Luka around Marinette. Best to keep things chill and aloof if he could, he supposed. 

Viperion could see her on her balcony as he approached, that would help. His last leap took him soaring in a flip to land on her balcony railing with a bit more show than was probably necessary. 

“Marinette?” he smiled. “Nice to meet you. Ladybug told you to expect me, I hope?”

“Wow,” Marinette breathed, blinking up at him. “She said she was sending someone but not who. You’re...you’re Viperion, right?” Her big blue eyes were round in her face. “You’re like—the most mysterious of all the heroes. You’re hardly ever on the Ladyblog.” 

“Not mysterious, just...quiet,” Viperion smiled with a shrug, feeling a little warm suddenly beneath his mask as he hopped off the rail. “I’m not really a front line fighter like Chat. I do my best work behind the scenes.”  

“Really? But you’re so strong—” Marinette’s eyes traveled down his body, rather blatantly checking him out. “Wow,” she breathed. “I thought the suit was just armored, but that’s actually you.” 

Viperion shifted a little uncomfortably under her gaze. Not that he minded, just...it was Marinette and she’d never looked at him like that before and...he kinda liked it.

Okay, he really liked it. 

But Ladybug was counting on him to be professional. 

Viperion cleared his throat. “Did Ladybug brief you on the plan?” 

Marinette nodded, still studying him though her expression turned serious. “Yes. I’m supposed to stick to you like glue and follow any orders you give.”

Viperion nodded. “We’ll be out of the main battle so you shouldn’t be in any danger, but that last part is really important. You’re a smart girl though so I’m not worried.” Much. He offered her a hand. “We should go so we’re in place before Chat gets there.” 

Marinette met his eyes and—shit, there went his traitor heart, suddenly galloping a mile a minute. Help me out here, Sass, he thought desperately, but his pulse continued to pound as Marinette put her hand in his and smiled up at him. Shyly, but also...mischievously? Her lips twitched just slightly, like they wanted to twist in a smirk, and crap why was he even looking at her lips, look away, Luka. 

If she smirked at him now he’d never be able to keep his cool. 

Taking a deep breath and hoping against hope that he wasn’t blushing too obviously, he tugged her closer to him and dropped her hand to put his on her back. “May I?” he asked, and when she nodded he lifted Marinette in his arms and settled her close against him, making sure he had a firm grip. She put one arm around his neck but ran her other hand across his chest, firm enough for him to feel the pressure even through the suit. His breath caught as she exclaimed “Cool! The material’s so different from Chat’s. Neat texture.” Her tone turned flirtatious. “Fits you really well too.” 

“Ah—” He couldn’t think.  

“Sorry,” she said, glancing up at him and looking not sorry at all. “I’m a fashion designer. You’re—inspiring.” She used the arm around his neck to pull herself up to look in his face, and he had to adjust his grip quickly. “I have to tell you I love your mask.” And there was the smirk, even more devastating at close range as she ran her fingertips along the bottom of his mask. 

Viperion felt dizzy as she settled back again with a cheerful, “Ready when you are!” 

***

She wouldn’t stop touching him. Tracing the lines of his suit where the different materials met, outlining the yellow diamond on his chest with one finger, not-so-subtly feeling up his arm…

Chill and aloof was obviously not going to be an option, he admitted to himself. He needed a new plan.

When her fingers traced his collar, actually brushed his skin at the hollow of his throat, he stumbled and nearly dropped her, landing hard on his knees.

“Are you okay?” she gasped, snatching her hand back guiltily. 

“I’m fine.” Viperion sighed and set her down, getting to his feet and brushing off his knees before turning to face her, trying to figure out how to say what he needed to say without hurting her feelings. 

He thought he understood what was going on. Marinette was always under a huge amount of stress. Pretty as she was, she didn’t get out much, and probably didn’t get to do a lot of flirting. She wouldn’t flirt with him—Luka him—because she knew he had feelings for her and she worried about leading him on. She couldn’t flirt with Adrien, partly because he was dating her friend and largely because she could still barely speak a coherent word to him.

As Viperion, he was a safe option. Marinette spent too much time lonely and sad. As far as she was concerned, she’d only just met Viperion, and when the mission was over he would disappear. She didn’t have to follow through on anything she said to him. Nothing she did raised any expectations. She didn’t have to worry about leading him on or breaking his heart. The situation must be frustrating for her. She was a doer. Being a spectator at best and a victim at worst in this situation, it made total sense that she would need something else to think about and focus on, a chance to blow off a little steam without consequences. 

And honestly, Luka was fine with indulging her. It fed his ego that she found him attractive enough to flirt with, even tease, but more importantly, if he could make Marinette happy, he wanted to. If he could make her feel pretty and valued and wanted, like the attractive young woman she was but never seemed to have time to be, then he wanted to, even if he had to wear a mask.

There was just one little problem. 

“Marinette,” he said, as gently as he could, “I get that you’re interested in the suit and I’m more happy to let you look at it, but first I’d like to get us where we’re going without faceplanting us both into the pavement, okay?”

“Right,” Marinette said, looking horrified and completely embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I should have known better, if course you’re a professional and I’m being horrible, aren’t I, making you uncomfortable when you’re just trying to do your job—“

Well, that wouldn’t do. He placed two fingers over her lips.

“Don’t be sorry,” he told her when she stopped talking, and chucked her under the chin gently. “I don’t mind you touching me at all. In fact—“ he leaned into her space, just a little. “I like it. Certainly worse things than having a hot girl put her hands on me, even if it’s just for the suit.” He gave her an appreciative look and a wink and had the satisfaction of seeing her blush. “I just don’t want you to be hurt. Ladybug’s counting on me to keep you safe after all.”

He could see instantly that it was the wrong thing to say, though he couldn’t fathom why. The color creeping up her face drained away and her smile turned plastic.

“Right,” Marinette said cheerfully, but the sound was hollow. “Wouldn’t want to let Ladybug down.” 

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Vierion repeated, putting his hand on her shoulder, all playfulness gone as he hunched slightly to look into her face. “Ever, but definitely not on my watch. Marinette, it would kill me if anything happened to you because I was distracted. And you can be…” He gave her a lopsided grin and a quick up and down look. “Very distracting.” 

She hunched her shoulders slightly, blushing, in a way that took him back to another time when he’d felt the urgent need to tell her how important she was. “I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said warmly, squeezing her shoulder before letting go. “You can check out the suit as much as you want when we get where we’re going.”  

“Right,” she breathed as he picked her up again. She put her arms around his neck and tucked her head down, pressing her eyes against his neck. “Because it was totally all about the suit.” 

Viperion chuckled. “You can check me out too if you want, I don’t mind.” 

He cradled her a little tighter as he ran, aware his heart was pounding from more than the run.

***

“There you go, Marinette. We made it.” Viperion let her feet drop, keeping his arm around her back. Marinette slid down his body until her feet touched the ground, her arms still around his neck. “I’m sure you’ve heard of Rena Rouge,” he added, gesturing at the hero in question. “Rena, Marinette.” 

“Hi,” Marinette said, sliding around to his side as she hunched her shoulders and waved with an awkward smile. “Um, sorry about all the trouble here.”

“It’s not your fault, Marinette,” Viperion said warmly, squeezing her against his side before Rena could even speak. 

Rena was looking at them with raised eyebrows. “You two are certainly...friendly,” she commented. 

“Are we?” Viperion said, lips twitching with the effort not to laugh as he looked down at Marinette still pressed against his side. “Sorry if I’m being too familiar,” he told her insincerely. She covered a giggle herself as he continued, “It’s just, well.” He gave Marinette a sly grin and a wink. “Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng is a bit of a mouthful.”

She looked up at him with a wicked twinkle in her pretty eyes. “I think you could handle it.”

He had to look away for just a moment before he could keep a straight face as he told her in a low voice, “I’d certainly try if you wanted me to.” Marinette giggled again behind her hand. 

Rena’s eyebrows looked likely to shoot off her head entirely. “Well, it certainly seems like there’s something going on here that I missed.” 

“You didn’t miss anything,” Viperion shrugged as Marinette unplastered herself from his side and wrapped her hands around his bicep instead. 

Probably fortunately, Chat showed up right then and ran through the plan again. Marinette continued clinging to Viperion’s arm throughout the briefing, which got looks from both Rena and Chat, but Viperion’s face remained impassive. 

“Don’t get distracted,” Chat warned him before leaping away. 

Marinette snorted softly. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Viperion coughed to cover an embarrassed laugh. 

“Looks like it’s just you and me now,” he remarked. 

Marinette perked up a little bit, squeezing his arm. “Do you work out? Or is it just part of being a hero? Do magic muscles come with the suit?”

Viperion laughed as he reached back for his lyre and shook his earpiece out of its compartment. “A little more strength, yeah, but no extra magic muscles. Let’s just say I lead an active lifestyle.”

“One that includes a lot of time in the sun,” Marinette giggled, reaching up to touch his cheek. “You’re pretty tanned. You definitely didn’t get that from being a hero.”

“Kind of hard to sunbathe in the suit,” Viperion agreed, running a finger along the edge of his mask. “Leaves awkward tan lines.” 

Marinette buried her face in his shoulder to muffle her laugh. “So the tan goes all the way down then?” she asked, when she could. 

Viperion smirked at her. “Yep. All the way.”  Marinette turned red and sputtered, and he looked away, grinning as he slipped his earpiece into place. Went a little further than you meant to, didn’t you? he thought with amusement. Too bad for you Couffaines have no shame. “Chat, Rena, do you read me?” 

“Loud and clear.”

“Gotcha, Scales.”

“Let me know when you’re in position,” he said, and then movement caught his eye. 

“Akuma,” he said urgently, growing serious at once. He put his arm out to move Marinette behind him, and felt her hands on his back as she moved close. “Here we go,” he said grimly. “Second Chance.” He slid the snake head back and touched his communicator. “Chat, Rena, she’s here. Checkpoint set. Round one.” 

Marinette’s hands moved over his back and down to his sides, and he sucked in a breath as they slid up the smoother texture of the darker panels on his side. “This part is kind of like Chat’s suit,” she murmured. “But this part must be armored,” she ran her hands forward over the ridged teal armor over his belly. 

Dear God, what had he gotten himself into?

She must have noticed his tension. “You said I could touch you,” she reminded him.

He had to swallow before he could answer. “I did.” 

“Did you change your mind?” 

Luka closed his eyes for a moment. He’d always known she was attracted to him but it wasn’t a thought he normally allowed himself to indulge in much. It just made knowing she didn’t actually want him worse. If he wanted to back out, now was the time. “No,” he said finally. “It’s okay.” 

Viperion drew back slightly as the akuma passed by below them. He felt Marinette peek over his shoulder.

“Oh, she’s scary,” Marinette whispered, and pressed her face into the back of his neck. “You’re sure you can’t see us?” 

He turned his head toward her for just a moment and leaned it on hers. “It’s fine, we’re out of sight. Don’t be scared, we’re all here to protect you.”

“I know,” she said softly. “I’m not scared if I’m with you.”

He had to shift his position to cover the shiver that sent through him. The akuma was past them now and Rena was casting her illusion. 

She ran her fingers through the tips of his hair at the nape of his neck. “Your hair’s so soft. Guess a Miraculous dye job will do that, huh?”

Oh, that felt amazing, but Viperion could see the akuma shriek and begin to flee. “Second Chance,” he breathed. A flash of white, and then he gave his debrief over the comm so that Rena could adjust her illusion. Then Marinette’s hands were sliding up his sides again.

It took nine resets before Rena got her illusion refined enough to fool the Akuma into thinking she’d gotten her revenge on Marinette and for Chat to successfully lure her away. Nine times he recounted the battle over the comms and suggested changes.

Nine times he’d steadfastly kept his attention on the akuma while he let Marinette run her hands over his sides, up his belly and chest. Nine times he felt her press her face to the back of his neck and rest her cheek on his back while she toyed with his hair. He knew every line of her teasing by heart. His own varied, partially depending on his own sense of whether he was going to have to reset again. The only reason he hadn’t just given in and kissed her (or tackled her to the floor, if he was honest) was the combined knowledge that his friends were still in harm's way and that Sass would give him a lecture about the responsibilities that came with time powers. 

He was maybe wound a little bit tight by the time he took her home. 

“Well,” he said, setting her down on her balcony. “Here we are, beautiful. Unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately?” she asked, not unhooking her arms from around his neck. 

“I’ve never enjoyed an akuma battle so much,” he told her, voice low, one hand sliding onto her hip while the other gripped the railing behind him in a desperate attempt to ground himself before he did something stupid. “Whoever catches your heart will be one lucky guy.”

“Thanks for being my hero today,” she smiled up at him through her lashes, a pretty pink tinting her cheeks the only warning he got that she was about to wreck him again. “I think a kiss is the traditional reward?”

“I don’t hold with those kinds of traditions,” he said a little roughly, hand tightening on the rail behind him. “But if you want to kiss me, I’m not about to say no.”

“If I do, are you going to kiss me back?” she asked, and though her tone was teasing her eyes were anxious. 

Viperion hummed thoughtfully, the hand on her hip sliding around to press into her lower back, pulling her closer. “I guess that’s just a chance you’ll have to take. If you decide you want to.”

“I want to,” she breathed, and he bent down until his forehead touched hers, eyes on hers the whole time. He felt her breath hitch and closed his eyes, waiting, as always, for her to choose, and trying to pretend his heart wasn’t racing just at the thought.

Her fingertips touched his cheek, hesitating, and then her palm fitted itself to the curve. It occurred to him to be glad he’d had time to shave before Ladybug showed up. He did kiss her back and she grew more confident, pressing into him, and the next thing he knew her hands were in his hair and her tongue was in his mouth and he made an extremely unheroic noise even as his arms wrapped around her and pulled her up into him. 

Viperion’s bracelet beeped and he felt Marinette sigh as she pulled back from him. “That means you have to go, right?” 

“I, um,” he blinked as she began to back away from him and his hands slid from her back to her arms, and then to her hands, which softly squeezed before letting go completely. 

“Please be safe, Viperion,” she said, her brow creasing as she undoubtedly remembered that he still had an akuma to defeat. Viperion swallowed and shook his head quickly, mustering a Chat-worthy grin that was entirely fake.

“Don’t worry,” he winked. “That Akuma’s not even close to being the most dangerous thing I’ve been around today. I’ll be fine. Go inside now and stay there until Ladybug does her thing, okay?” Viperion turned away quickly, pulling in a deep breath before he vaulted over the balcony railing.

***

His bracelet beeped a final warning about three rooftops later. He quickly found a place in the shadow of the building’s roof entry hutch and put his back against the wall. His transformation released and he met Sass’s highly amused eyes before he put his hands on his face and slid to the ground with a muffled whine. 

Sass’s hissing laughter was deeply unhelpful.

“Sass,” Luka said from behind his hands. “What the hell was that?”

“At a guess,” Sass replied, smirking—Luka didn’t have to look at him to know it—“Hormonesss.”

Luka slid his hands down to glare at Sass over his fingers. “That’s your input? Ladybug and Marinette both decide to try and make me combust today and the best you’ve got is hormones?”

Sass laughed at him again and Luka groaned. 

“What do you wissssh me to sssay?” the kwami chuckled. “I have myssself heard Ladybug refer to Viperion as a ‘ssssnack.’ I don’t sssee any reason Marinette should think differently. Unless I mistake the meaning of the word in this contexsst, that should be ssssufficient anssswer.” He flicked his tail. “Ssssspeaking of which.”

Luka groaned. “I could have lived without knowing that, thanks.” He pulled the little baggie full of chopped hardboiled egg out of his pocket and tossed it to the kwami without even looking. “Eat fast, we have to go meet Ladybug’s other contact.” 

Sass just chuckled and pulled the bag open. 

***

She didn’t have a lot of time, she was on a schedule, but Marinette couldn’t resist throwing herself on her bed and squealing into her pillow. Then she rolled over onto her back. “I can’t believe I did all that,” she gasped, fingers flying to her lips “What’s wrong with me?”

Tikki floated nearby, giggling. “You like Luka, Marinette, you know you do. I think you just felt a little bit bolder knowing he was wearing the mask.” She flew close and poked Marinette’s cheek. “Was it everything you thought it would be.” 

Tikki zipped back quickly as Marinette pulled her pillow back over her red face and squealed into it again. She never thought she would be bold enough to do such things, but...but it felt good. And Luka...he’d been thrown at first, clearly, but then he’d rolled with it, because Luka was super good at rolling with things, even, apparently, if those things included her touching him and teasing him and flirting and trading innuendo she never could have spoken to his unmasked face. 

Would it...be like that? If it wasn’t Marinette and Viperion, but Marinette and Luka, and they were in a relationship, is that...is that how it would feel? Not awkward and embarrassing, but...fun and teasing and exciting. Was that how it felt when you liked someone who liked you back? Would he look at her like that every day with those soft eyes, and talk to her in that warm, low voice, and stand with his arm around her, pulling her close into his side, and...and let her kiss him like that...or maybe kiss her like— 

She felt Tikki land on her head and pat her hair. “Come on Marinette! You’d better get ready for the next part. You don’t want to keep Viperion waiting,” she finished in a singsong. 

“Right,” Marinette sighed. She got off her bed and pulled the Miracle Box out from under it. As soon as it opened, she picked up the mouse Miraculous and weighed it thoughtfully in her hand. It had been a couple of years since Multimouse’s last appearance. Surely she was safe to try it again. Mylène had done a great job with it but she was out of the country on one of her eco projects for the moment, so it was up to Marinette.

Not that she minded the chance to work with Viperion a little longer. Not that she minded at all.

Marinette put on the necklace and smiled at Mullo, eyes sparkling. Moments later, she was leaping off her balcony in the familiar pink and grey suit, on her way to meet Viperion, her heart beating with anticipation. 

***

Viperion was leaning against a wall, idly strumming his lyre and daydreaming about Marinette, when his mission partner hit the roof and rolled to her feet. It took him a moment to totally focus on her but when he did it took all of his natural stoicism to keep his jaw from dropping.

That...was not the mouse he expected.

Holy shit.

Until today, Luka would have denied that he had a type, but God. Clearly he was weak for tiny blue-eyed dynamos with dark hair. He’d never seen eyes that could kill like that except on Marinette. Her suit was fitted like Ladybug’s rather than padded and armored like his or Chat’s or Carpace’s, or flared like Rena’s. While all the boys had gotten used to seeing, or avoiding seeing, Ladybug’s curves in the suit, Viperion suddenly realized that the red and black spotted pattern did a much better job of distracting from the more subtle lines of her body, and the new mouse’s light grey suit...did not.

She cleared her throat, and he realized that he was staring at her abs and straightened off the wall, tucking his lyre away.

“Sorry, I was expecting someone else,” he said as smoothly as he could, offering his hand. “Viperion.” 

“Nice to meet you,” she said brightly, shaking his hand and then planting one hand on her cocked hip and saluting with the other. “I’m afraid your regularly scheduled mouse couldn’t be here today, so I’m Multimouse, at your service.” She winked one big blue eye and Viperion’s knees went weak.

He decided he was taking a very long, very cold shower when he got home. Assuming he survived. The universe really had it in for him today. 

Well it’s a hell of a way to go, he thought to himself, taking a steadying breath.

“Happy to work with you,” Viperion smiled. “I’m sure Ladybug briefed you on the plan, any questions?” 

“Plenty,” she grinned with another devastating wink. “But we’re supposed to be working.” 

Viperion folded his arms and smirked despite the heat he felt in his face. “I’m almost afraid to ask if there’s anything I should know.” 

“Just follow my lead, handsome,” she grinned, turning away as she unlooped her jump rope belt with an entirely unnecessary swing of her hips. “Think you can do that?” 

Oh, Mousey was a flirt. He grinned. “I’ll certainly enjoy trying,” he murmured, quiet enough that she could ignore it if she chose.

Instead Multimouse looked back at him over her shoulder with a mischievous smile. “I know you’ve had a long day already, so just let me know if you get tired.”

Viperion chuckled. “I think I’m getting my second wind,” he winked. “By all means, after you.” 

“Catch me if you can, handsome!” Multimouse swung from the building and Viperion took a running leap after her.

Multimouse led him to a warehouse, and after he smashed the lock, they slipped inside. It was deserted and Chat was supposed to be keeping the akuma occupied and after his ring, but there was no harm in being cautious. “You’re a handy partner to have,” Multimouse said, looping one arm through his. “This plan shouldn’t be difficult at all.”

“Ladybug did the hard work,” Viperion commented. “I’m just the muscle today. Have to hand it to her, she’s got a mind like a steel trap.”

“Ooh, watch your phrasing,” Multimouse winced, swinging her hip into him. “Remember your company, handsome.” 

“Sorry,” Viperion chuckled. “You’re right, poor choice of words.” 

“If you’re nice for the rest of the mission maybe I’ll let you make it up to me,” Multimouse teased, fingers curling around his bicep. “Hmm, Ladybug knew what she was doing.”

Viperion plucked her hand off him. “Don’t do that, please.” 

“Oh,” her eyes widened slightly, the first sign of hesitancy he’d seen from her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

“You didn’t,” Viiperion told her, squeezing the hand he was still holding before letting go. “I’d just rather we keep this hands off, if you don’t mind. No hard feelings.”

 “Sure,” Multimouse perked up again, though he thought he saw a hint of pink under her mask. 

“Can’t say I mind being on pretty girl detail for the day,” he said lightly, hoping to put her back at ease. “Where to, ma’am? I’m supposed to follow your lead.”

“This way,” Multimouse tugged him towards a corridor. “The akuma victim rents a space back here to use for her studio. Ladybug wants us to get there, take a look around, and see if we can get the akumatized item. She thinks it’s probably boobytrapped, so that’s where I come in. You’ll set second chance before I go just in case anything goes wrong.” 

Viperion followed her and they started slowly down the long, echoey hallway. So much for stealth, he thought, wincing slightly. Multimouse must have thought so too because while she kept her alert posture, she smiled back at him and said, “So, did you know that you came up second on the Ladyblog’s Hottest Hero: Male Edition survey?” 

Viperion chuckled awkwardly, trying not to blush. “Chat’s hard to compete with,” he replied with a crooked smile. 

“You were robbed, if you ask me,” Multimouse said in a conversational tone, winking at him when he glanced over at her. She really needs to stop doing that. He swallowed and took a slow breath before he answered her. He had a feeling he was going to be doing a lot of belly breathing today. 

“Everybody has their own taste,” Viperion shrugged. “Guess not everybody goes for ‘mysterious, aloof, and quiet.’” 

“You read your own profile?” Multimouse giggled. 

“I was curious,” he grinned. “Haven’t you read yours?”

“Don’t have one,” Multimouse held up her hands and pretended to pout. “I’m so overlooked.”

“I can’t imagine anyone overlooking you.” 

“Ooh, flatterer,” she giggled, and then sobered. “This is actually only my second time out. The first time was years ago and it didn’t end so great.” 

“Really? That surprises me. You seem so natural,” Viperion said, following her down the corridor. 

“Why thank you,” Multimouse grinned over her shoulder at him, and his heart skipped a beat. 

Marinette, he reminded himself firmly, although she technically had no claim on him and he certainly had none on her. He blew out another breath, and then inhaled deeply—and abruptly wrinkled his nose. “Fabric dye,” he muttered. He’d been over to Marinette’s once while she was dying fabric and even with her windows open the smell had driven him up to her balcony. 

“Yes, this is the place,” Multimouse confirmed. She opened the door a crack and peeked inside, and Viperion readied himself to jerk her back in case of any unexpected surprises. “You don’t have to go any further,” she said, her flirtatious air gone and replaced with an intense focus that impressed him. “I know you hate the smell. Multitude!”

Viperion looked at her sharply but was blinded by the light of her power activating. He took a step back as she glowed brightly, and when he could see again, his partner was gone. He looked down to see the Multimice grinning up at him. One of them waved him down. Viperion knelt and put his hand down. One of the Multimice climbed onto his palm and he lifted her to his face. “I’ll stay with you,” she said cheerfully, hands on her hips. “Wouldn’t want you to get lonely.” 

Viperion chuckled. “Welcome aboard.” He brought his hand up to his shoulder and the Multimouse hopped up. 

“The rest of me will go scout and report back,” she said, and then pointed to his bracelet. “If you could?”

“Second Chance.” Viperion slid the bracelet back.

The Multimice still on the floor blew him a kiss in unison, and then ran off in different directions. Viperion couldn’t help a smile, though he directed it at the ground. She—they? were really too cute. 

“So,” Multimouse said, reclining on her side along his shoulder and propping her face on one hand, “Just you and me now. Does my handsome partner have a girlfriend?” 

“No girlfriend,” he sighed, a wistful smile taking over his face. “Just a girl. One amazing girl. You’re cute, Mousey, and I’m sure you’ve got a style of amazing all your own, but my girl...she’s not my girl, she doesn’t like me that way, but...anyway, there’s no one like her. Not even Ladybug.” He looked at her and she jumped, shutting her mouth quickly and looking down as she ran her finger across the texture of his suit. “You? Anyone special in your life?”

“Hmm,” Multimouse twirled her jump rope absently. ���Sort of. It’s...complicated.” She sighed dreamily. “And I really wish it wasn’t, because I really do like him. He’s sweet and talented and thoughtful...insightful, really.” She sat up, crossing her legs, and reached up to pinch his cheek, which felt really funny considering how small she was. “Almost as handsome as you. Nice muscles, too, though he doesn’t show them off nearly enough.” She bounced her foot and seemed to consider what she was about to say. “I thought I’d missed my chance though. I kept him waiting for a long time, and—” She looked at him, and then looked away quickly. “I was pretty sure he didn’t feel that way about me anymore, but...I’m starting to wonder if…” He turned his head slightly so that he could see her face better. She was smiling softly down at the jump rope in her hand, biting her full lower lip and blushing. Viperion smiled. 

“Well, maybe it’s time you took a little chance then,” he said, shrugging his shoulder just enough to jostle her slightly. “If he’s been waiting all that time, then he’s probably not going to make a move unless you do. He’s kinda put himself out there enough, don’t you think?”

Multimouse frowned, blinking at him. “But if he was still into me, wouldn’t he keep trying? Other...other guys have…” 

Luka snorted softly. “Would you like him if he was like ‘other guys?’” 

“I’d like him if he was like you,” Multimouse purred, leaning against his neck. 

“Right, okay,” Viperion chuckled. “We don’t have to talk about it anymore if you don’t want to. I’m just saying, if you are interested, then you’re going to have to make a move, because if he does still have feelings for you, he’s trying to respect you by keeping them to himself.” He turned his face toward her and winked. “Food for thought. Though I’m sure a girl like you has plenty of options.”

“Aw, I’ll bet you say that to all the girls you turn down.”

Luka chuckled. “Believe me, if it weren’t for M—my girl, I’d be first in line.”

Multimouse squeaked and nearly fell backwards off of his shoulder, and Luka bit his lip in a vain effort to contain his grin. 

“Need a hand?” he asked, careful not to move.

“No, I’m good!” she gasped, clawing her way back up the seams of his suit. Then she turned her head and brightened. “Oh, here I come!”

The Minimice—nope, Viperion immediately crossed that name out in his mind—the Manymice—no, that was practically the same as Multimice. Copymice? Okay that just sounded dumb. This is why I let Rose write the lyrics, ugh. The Multimice returned, each of them with their arms full of...yarn? Viperion knelt and his Multimouse jumped down from his shoulder. They chattered amongst themselves, talking so fast that Viperion couldn’t quite keep up, and then they lined up and began knotting their pieces of yarn together.

One of them (he wasn’t sure if it was the same one that had been with him all this time; he wished they came in different colors or something so he could tell them apart) turned to him and said, “The akumatized object is defended by a weird sort of...maze made of yarn. Like one of those laser grids you see in spy movies? We’re pretty sure that if we can get above it, we can drop down through the maze. I’m not sure what the strands do but we’d just as soon not find out! I think we’ve got enough pieces here to reach from those girders up there.” She pointed up and Viperion looked up to the girders crossing the warehouse-style ceiling.

“Are you sure it’ll hold?” Viperion frowned. “I don’t want you to fall.” 

“Check it,” Multimouse winked at him, holding it up. Viperion took yarn and held it up, inspecting the knots. His eyebrows went up.

“You know your knots,” he said, tugging the yarn carefully. The knots tightened and held. “Where’d you learn that?” 

“Oh,” the mini Multimouse’s eyes went wide, and she blushed under her mask. “Umm...a friend taught me.” 

“Your special friend?” Viperion teased, “Maybe more special than you said if he taught you knots like these.”

“It is not like that,” Multimouse insisted, growing pinker. She folded her arms and looking away from him. “He spends a lot of time around boats, that’s all. Maybe I should ask how you know them.” 

“I’ve spent a little bit of time on boats as well,” Viperion chuckled. “Well, it looks pretty good. I think it should work. Everybody grab on, let’s give it a quick test and make sure it’ll hold your weights.” 

The Multimice all grabbed onto the yarn rope in a line, and Luka carefully lifted it by one end, his other hand ready to catch anybody that fell. Finally all of the mice were off the ground, the end of the rope hovering an inch or so above the floor. “Okay,” Viperion nodded. “Okay, looks good. Nice work. I’ll take you up.” He looked up to the steel girders criss-crossing above him and then around, planning his route up. 

It took some fumbling but after a few minutes, Viperion got to his feet with his arms full of clinging Multimice. “Everybody good?” he asked. “If you don’t feel secure, now’s the time to say.” 

“We’re good!” chorused the girls, and Viperion chuckled, then looked up again and took a deep breath.

“Okay, here we go. One...two…” He felt them grip tighter. “Three!” Viperion leapt, resisting the instinct to use his arms for balance and momentum, and made it up to the steel crossbeam. He blew out a slow breath, relieved as he let the Multimice carefully down on the girder. 

“Well done,” one said, patting his hand with a sympathetic look, and Viperion smiled tightly, a little more adrenaline in his system than he wanted to admit to from the effort of getting up here without dropping or crushing anyone. 

“Be careful,” he said as the Multimice walked along the girder until they were all gathered above the glowing yarn maze, looking down into the center. Luka followed, careful not to knock anyone off as he looked down. 

“Not scared of heights, are you?” Multimouse teased. 

“Not at all,” Luka chuckled, sitting down on the girder and hanging his legs off as he looked down. “What is that? It looks like a stapler.”

“It’s a bedazzler,” said Multimouse, and all of them wrinkled their noses at once. “How cheap. Did she really think she was going to pass that off in front of those judges? Audrey Bourgeois might be the queen of glitter but I guarantee you the stuff she uses costs at least a hundred bucks a bottle and cheap rhinestones are not going to cut it. I can just hear her now.” She put her nose in the air, one hand on her hip and the other one out in an affected pose as she flapped her hand. “Ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!” Viperion’s breath caught, his eyes widening slightly.

“That’s...a pretty good impression,” he said slowly, looking intently at her. “Almost the best one I’ve seen.” 

Multimouse just shook her head. “Poor thing was probably humiliated, no wonder Hawkmoth got to her.” She held up the end of their yarn rope. “Would you mind tying it?” 

Viperion did so, hands working the tiny yarn rope almost automatically as his mind raced on other matters. He gave the Multimice a thoughtful look, but none of them noticed, all on their hands and knees staring down at the purple bedazzler. “This is really worrying,” one of them commented. “This is the first time an akuma’s actually hidden away from the akumatized person. This one’s simple enough, but they always get smarter.” 

When the rope was secure, he lowered it carefully between the strands of the yarn maze. Four Multimice hopped onto it one by one and slid down.

Working together, they knotted the end of the yarn rope securely around the bedazzler, silently thanking Luka for his lessons on knots and ropes, and then one by one the Multimice shimmied back up the rope. Once there, they reformed into one large multimouse, who grinned up at Viperion triumphantly as she reached down and grabbed the yarn rope, hauling the bedazzler up hand over hand. “And there we go,” she grinned triumphantly, sitting down on the beam and crossing her legs, holding out the bedazzler triumphantly.

Viperion was looking at her strangely, one arm folded across his chest and the other propped up on it, fingers pressed to his lips. Multimouse cocked her head, and looked back at him. “Do I have something on my face?” she quipped. “Besides the mask.” 

He didn’t answer. 

“Care to do the honors?” Multimouse asked, setting the bedazzler down between them. 

Viperion wordlessly took his lyre from the small of his back and smashed it down in a quick, violent movement that made Multimouse jump. It did the trick, though, and the akuma floated free. 

“Wow,” Multimouse said absently, tracking the little butterfly. “Never thought I’d see you do that with an instrument. I’ll signal Ladybug and meet you on the next roof over.” She got to her feet and leapt nimbly across the beams, following the akuma. When she was sure she was out of Viperion’s sight, she whispered, “Come on out, Tikki.” Tikki popped out of one of her buns and came to float in front of her, beaming. “Ready?” Multimouse asked, and Tikki nodded. “Okay. Mullo, Tikki, unify.” A few minutes later, she’d captured the akuma and tossed her yoyo to cast the cure.

She stood weighing her yoyo in her hand. Technically speaking, Multibug supposed there was no need for her to meet up with Viperion again. She could have just sent him home, which was her original plan. But she hadn’t and he was expecting her and she felt unwilling to disappoint him. Marinette was used to the extra freedom that came with the mask and didn’t usually let it go to her head, but...well. She’d said a lot of things to Viperion today that Marinette had been longing to say to Luka for a while now and it felt good. He deserved to hear that he was brave and strong and kind and wonderful, and nobody said it to him the way they should.

Including her. 

“Mullo, Tikki, divide,” she ordered, and Tikki flew free. She took one look at Multimouse’s face and giggled, hiding back in her bun again.

When Multimouse arrived on the roof, Viperion was sitting on the ledge of the roof, one knee bent and one hanging down, his eyes on the lyre in his hands as he idly plucked a tune. He looked like he’d been plucked from the gardens at Versaille and left there by accident. There was something about his posture that made her uneasy and she approached him with a little less swagger than she had planned. She opened her mouth to greet him but he spoke before she could.

“I was just thinking,” he said, eyes still down, “About that girl. The one I’m so crazy about. She’s a lot like you.” 

Multimouse rocked back on her heels slightly, trying not to give away how thrown she was. She folded her arms and cocked her shoulders teasingly, closing one eye. “I thought you said there was nobody like her.” 

Viperion chuckled, still strumming. Strumming...strumming Marinette’s song, she realized with a sudden jolt. “This girl, she’s amazing. I’ve been in love with her for years. She wasn’t interested though so I’ve been kinda hanging back for a while now.” He shook his head, and Multimouse was having trouble looking away from the fingers plucking the lyre. “I’m starting to think though...maybe she’s changing her mind. Maybe she’s starting to feel a little bit of what I feel for her.” 

Marinette felt a thrill that sped up and down her body and took up residence in her stomach, electrifying the butterflies already fluttering there. “You still love her?”

Viperion smiled, and stopped playing, returning his lyre to the small of his back as he cocked his head to look at her, and the look in his eyes took her breath. “More and more as time passes. She just keeps getting more amazing, not less. I’ve dated other people, but never for long. Nobody measures up. I think maybe I can get over her then I see her again and it’s like no time has passed at all.”

Multimouse had no reason to blush at that, she reminded herself. She strolled over to him and turned, flattening her hands on the ledge where he was sitting and leaning back against it. “You should tell her, then. Maybe you’re right and her feelings are changing, but she thinks you’ve moved on so she’s too scared to say anything.”

“Well, you know. I might be wrong, but…” Viperion leaned toward her and put his mouth right by her ear. “I think I just did.” 

She couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her. 

Viperion hopped off the ledge and turned to face her, placing one hand next to her on the ledge as he leaned in close. Just like Luka, she thought distantly, her heart racing, to not trap her in, to leave her an escape.  “You know a little too much about me for coincidence, little mouse. And maybe I know you just a little bit too well. I’ve heard you do that Audrey Bourgeois impression a few thousand times.” Multmouse bit her lip. “You’ve been running me a merry chase all day but I’ve caught you now, haven’t I?” Viperion continued, his nose brushed lightly against her cheek, just under her mask. “Can I kiss you?” 

“I don’t mind, handsome,” Multimouse said, as bravely as she could manage, even though having him so close was making her heart pound. “But what if you’re wrong?” 

“Haven’t you heard?” She could see Viperion’s grin widen out of the corner of her eye. “I’m all about taking chances.” 

Multimouse turned her face to give him a Look, lips parted for a retort, but as soon as she turned to him, he dipped down and kissed her—not the soft, careful way she’d always imagined Luka would kiss, but hard and hungry and fierce, like—

Like they were both wearing masks and they could pretend it never happened if they chose. Like it might be the only time she’d ever let him and he intended to make the most of it. Like she’d been torturing him all day and he just couldn’t take it anymore.

Like he’d been in love with her for years and was finally feeling a tiny sliver of hope that she might have feelings for him too.

She felt him hesitate and begin to pull back, and suddenly she realized she hadn’t exactly stopped him, but she wasn’t really responding either, too caught off guard to do more than let her lips form to his. And if that wasn’t just like Luka, to kiss her like that and still wait for her. 

Marinette might have hesitated. Ladybug would have delivered a lecture on professionalism in the suit.

Multimouse put her arms around his neck to stop his retreat and pressed into him, catching his lower lip between her teeth before pressing her mouth to his. His breath hitched and his hesitation disappeared and then they were really kissing, and it was like kissing him on her balcony only better, because this time he wasn’t shocked and hesitating and acting on instinct.  

This time he wanted her and she wanted him and neither of them had to own up to it if they didn’t want to and it made them reckless.

By the time they stopped only his arm around her waist and the hand feeling up her back were keeping her from just toppling over the roof, he’d bent her so far back. They hung there for a moment, panting, and then he slowly straightened, bringing her back upright. He grinned at her, looking extremely pleased with himself as he eyed her. She felt a little cheated that his Miraculous lipstick wasn’t smudged, but his hair was a wreck, which made her smirk. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he told her, voice deeper than she’d ever heard it outside of a performance.

Multimouse slipped out of his arms and turned half-away from him, hands on her hips. “You think you know who I am,” she said, pouting bruised lips. “But that doesn’t mean I know who you are.” 

“Hmm,” he smiled indulgently, leaning back against the roof ledge. “If you didn’t know before, I think you know now. I’m planning to be at Cafe Belle about two o’clock tomorrow. If the girl I like just happens to wander by, I’ll ask her to join me for coffee and cheesecake.” 

Multimouse wrinkled her nose. “Is that a mouse joke?” 

Viperion’s low chuckle made her shiver. “If she doesn’t care for cheesecake I’m sure I can find something to her taste.” 

“Hmm,” Multimouse said airily, twirling the end of her jump rope tail as she sauntered away from him. “Well, good luck with that…” 

Viperion sighed, head cocking slightly. “I am going to miss that suit.” 

Multimouse whirled, her hands on her hips. “And I thought you were such a gentleman.” 

Viperion grinned, looking at her through his bangs, his green eyes looking somehow more intense and...predatory than Luka’s usual blue. “I guess we both learned something about each other today. I didn’t know you could be such a tease. You made it an awfully long day today, you know.” 

Multimouse cocked a hip and folded her arms. “You still might be wrong.”

Viperion shrugged, but his grin didn’t budge. “Maybe.” He winked. “See you tomorrow.” He kicked up his legs and flipped over the roof ledge behind him. 

Multimouse sighed. “I’m going to miss that suit too.” 

***

Luka was sweating and exhausted by the time he got back to the boat. He’d run as Viperion as fast and as far as he could, teeth clenched to keep from whooping at the top of his lungs. 

Even after his transformation dropped, he sprinted a couple of blocks just on his own. He had, after all, kind of a lot of energy to burn off. Every time he thought he was calming down, he remembered, and a grin split his face and he put on another burst of speed. 

He could hear Sass laughing at him in his hood and he couldn’t care at all. 

Luka arrived home panting and sweating and dishevelled. That wasn’t unusual for him; if anyone saw him they’d probably assume he’d been at work—which was sort of true, anyway, even if no one knew he occasionally moonlighted as a superhero and made out with pretty girls on rooftops how the hell did this become his life.

Sass eyed Luka as the kwami ate his snack. Luka grinned at him and then at the ground.

“May I asssk what that was?”

Luka shrugged his shoulders without looking up. “Hormones?” 

Sass laughed. “Indeed.” 

Luka risked a glance at him. “Are you going to yell at me?” 

Sass snorted. “I am not. If you wissssh a lecture, I’m sure Ladybug can arrange a disssscusion with Tikki. Persssonally, I think if you are judged worthy to wield me, which you have done resssponssibly for yearsss, it isss reasssonable to asssume you are not a fool. You knew what you were doing, you knew the risssk you were taking. Ladybug trusssts you with the fate of the city; I trussst you to ssstand up to your choicesss, whatever the outcome.”

“I—” Luka sighed. “Thanks, Sass.” 

Sass finished his food and came to land on Luka’s shoulder, wrapping his tail lightly around Luka’s neck. He patted Luka’s cheek gently.

Luka put the plate away and went back on deck to wait for Ladybug. Unsurprisingly, given how long it had taken him to get home, he didn’t have to wait long. He was leaning on his elbows staring at the water when her feet hit the deck and the zip of her retracting yoyo. 

“You’re not playing your guitar,” she observed.

Luka turned and shrugged. “It’s been kind of a weird day,” he said, handing over the bracelet. “I think I’m still processing it.” 

Ladybug’s eyebrow quirked and his heart jumped for no apparent reason. Habit, he supposed, at this point. Gorgeous blue-eyed girls had been wrecking him all day so why should now be any different?

Different. 

It...wasn’t different. It wasn’t different at all. Luka swallowed, suddenly staring at Ladybug’s mouth.

“Good weird or bad weird?” Ladybug asked, tilting her head and studying him. He probably looked deranged, he realized, windblown and sweaty and suddenly having a lot of difficulty putting words together.

“Good,” he replied, barely managing not to stutter. “The good kind, the best, actually, um…” He pressed his lips together before he could babble anything else. Ladybug looked like she was fighting a smile.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I am fantastic,” he said, collapsing more than leaning back against the rail. “Couldn’t be better.” 

Ladybug giggled. “Well, that’s good to hear.” She gave him a smirk and flung her yoyo. “See you around, Luka.”  

“Right,” he said numbly to the empty air, and then he bolted for the door to the cabin. He clattered down the stairs and burst into his thankfully-empty room where he could lose his shit in peace. 

It was a little thing, really. Her lips were just a little redder than usual, but it was enough. The eyes, the lips, the hair—holy shit the smirk—he felt like an idiot. Luka’s legs went weak and he sat down on his bed.

He bent his head and ran his fingers through his sweaty hair. “I need a shower,” he muttered absently.

“Didn’t you shower this morning?” Juleka grumbled from the doorway.

Luka stripped off his sweaty shirt and threw it in her face. “I’m a guy, I need another one.” 

“Eeew!” she squealed, clawing it away. By the time she threw it to the floor, Luka had pushed past her and into the Liberty’s small bathroom, just about the only place where he could actually be alone on the whole boat. 

He preferred to be alone while his brain was melting out of his ears.

Multimouse was Marinette. Marinette is Ladybug. It was clear as day now, it just plain wasn’t possible that there were two people like that in the world, let alone three. He felt like such a moron. 

Marinette kissed him and he kissed Multmouse who was Marinette who was Ladybug and that he means he kissed Ladybug. Twice! Which, okay, he was in love with Marinette and always had been, and over the moon to have been kissing her, but he’d had some time to process that part and come on. Ladybug. If there was anyone in their age group who was attracted to girls who hadn’t fantasized about kissing Ladybug...well it was no one he’d ever met. Just nobody thought they’d ever actually get to, and he had, and that was kind of blowing his mind.

Juleka would be so jealous if she knew. 

Of course she hadn’t been wearing the masks at the time, or at least not that mask, but Luka didn’t care. He’d kiss Marinette in any mask or no mask and he’d wear any damn thing she wanted him to because he was madly, stupidly in love with her, and she was three times as amazing as he ever thought and he had a date with her tomorrow.

After years of silent pining and half-hearted attempts to move on...he had a date with Marinette. 

His hands were shaking.

Luka leaned his elbows on the tiny sink and grinned at himself in the mirror, shaking his head.

“You are one lucky bastard,” he muttered to his reflection, and laughed, giddy and breathless.

***

“What am I doing, Tikki?” Marinette breathed as she walked, briskly despite her nerves. “This is crazy. Right? Tell me this is crazy, Tikki.” 

“Love is always a little crazy, Marinette,” Tikki giggled, peeking up from Marinette’s purse. “Just give it a chance! For once it’s not the world at stake. And it’s just Luka.”

“Right,” Marinette muttered. “Just Luka, that I climbed all over yesterday and now he knows it was me and—”

“And thinking that he wanted you to meet him today just to reject you would be crazy,” Tikki teased, poking Marinette’s side. “I know it’s scary, Marinette, but this is the good scary! The normal scary! The exciting scary!”

Marinette smiled and put her hand in her purse to stroke Tikki’s head lightly. “Thanks, Tikki.” She promptly faltered a step and tripped. “Oh no, there he is. Just like he said he would be.”

“That’s a good thing, Marinette!” Tikki giggled.

Luka was leaning against the wall between the cafe door and the alley separating it from the next building, hands shoved in his pockets. His jean pockets, because he wasn’t wearing the hoodie that she had seen on him at nearly every encounter for three years, just a Kitty Section t-shirt that Marinette had made him.

And because she’d made it, it fit him perfectly. And without his hoodie, it left his arms mostly bare. Marinette whimpered quietly, cursing yesterday-Marinette for making her admiration of his arms so...obvious.

“You can do it, Marinette,” Tikki whispered, sinking lower into the purse. Marinette gulped in a deep breath and started walking again.

“Hi Luka,” she called as she got closer, “Hey, what a surprise, running into you like this! I was just, um, just out and about.” 

Luka looked up, giving her that same warm stare she’d last seen from masked green eyes, and a slow smile that made her skin tingle. “Hey Marinette. Fancy meeting you here. I was just thinking about getting a table to grab some lunch. His smile took on a cocky tilt that she had only rarely seen on him and for a moment she couldn’t decide if she was annoyed by it or something else entirely. “Care to join me? I hear they have great cheesecake here.”

Marinette stood, vibrating in indecision for just a moment. Luka’s eyes didn’t waver. 

Well, maybe it’s time you took a little chance then. He’s kinda put himself out there enough, don’t you think?

He was right. 

But first things first.

Marinette took a deep breath, steadied her nerves, and in a smoother motion than she would have thought she was capable of outside of the suit, she stepped up to him, grabbed him by the front of his shirt, and swung him around into the alley entrance. “Woah,” he yelped, and then his eyes widened further as she planted a hand in the middle of his chest and pushed, backing him further down the (thankfully relatively clean) alley. Something in her face must have given him an inkling of her mood because he was slowly turning very red. 

She changed her angle to back him into the wall and kept advancing until she was chest to chest with him, looking up into his face. “Just so we’re clear,” she said, with only a little tremble in her voice though she could feel her hands starting to shake, “Nothing on this earth will save you if you breathe a word of what you think you know to anyone.” 

Luka’s eyes couldn’t get any wider. “Of course,” he gasped, breathlessly. “I wouldn’t, I would nev—mmph!” Marinette grabbed the back of his neck and jerked him down into a kiss that was harder than she meant it to be, just out of nerves. He must have liked it well enough, though, because he made the same noise he’d made yesterday when she kissed Viperion on her balcony. That sparked the memory of the look on his face afterwards, which made her giggle, and then she squeaked as he took advantage of her distraction and—wow, pulling him into the alley was a good decision because she did not want any witnesses to this.  

This was so much better without the suits, she realized giddily as he pulled her up flush against him. He made that noise again when her hands slid up over his shoulders and slipped into his hair. It felt amazing and she could have kissed him forever but there were things she still needed to say. 

Finally she put her hand on his shoulder, pushing lightly, and he stopped and drew back to look at her, lips red and hair even more tousled than usual, and Marinette was grateful he was still holding her because she wasn’t sure she could stand on her own at that point. 

“A little mouse told me you still had feelings for me,” Marinette whispered. “Is it true? Because I—” she continued in a rush before he could answer. “Because I definitely have feelings for you and if it’s not true that’s okay, but if it—if it is then maybe we could go have that cheesecake and if you’re free maybe we could go see a movie and—”

He cut her off with another kiss, and it was softer and slower, more tender, more like how she had always imagined Luka would kiss, but it was no less thrilling. 

“She also said you were a really good kisser,” Marinette added breathlessly when he drew back.  

“Yeah?” The corner of his mouth came up in a subtle smirk that she could definitely get used to seeing on him. 

“Yeah,” Marinette shrugged one shoulder, aware that her intense blush belied her unusually calm attitude. “So I guess I’m kinda hoping that since she was right about that,” Marinette dropped her eyes and rubbed two fingers against the fabric of his t-shirt, “Maybe she was right about the other thing too?” 

“If you mean the fact that I’m even more in love with you than I was the day you tripped into my room,” he lowered his forehead to rest on hers and took a shaky breath. “Then yeah, she was totally right. And that’s one secret I’m more than happy to be rid of.” 

“I’m sorry,” Marinette sighed, “For keeping you waiting so long, and then hesitating even when I knew what I wanted.”

Luka lifted one hand and brushed the back of his fingers against her cheek. “If you think I’m even the slightest bit dissatisfied right now then by all means, let me convince you I’m not.” His hand turned and cupped her cheek as he leaned in. Marinette put a finger on his chin and he paused. 

“So...about that cheesecake?” she smiled.

“I’ll take you anywhere you want to go,” he told her, and his eyes—she couldn’t look away. “Today and any day. Every day, if you want. Whatever I have to do to make this real, just tell me, I’m there.” 

Marinette smiled slowly. “Silly boy,” she said, letting her finger slide away from his chin. “It’s already real.” 

He looked at her with soft eyes, and his voice was warm and low as he said, “Then let’s go have some cheesecake and go watch a movie that, I’m going to warn you now, I have no intention of remembering.” His arm slid around her, pulling her close into his side, and she smiled. 

Luka smiled too as they strolled towards the cafe entrance together, not entirely convinced that his feet were touching the ground, and only the persistent pounding assured him his heart was still in his chest. 

Luka held open the cafe door for her and she smiled up at him. As she passed him, he took a cookie out of his pocket and slipped it into her purse. He wanted to make a good impression, after all, even if he wasn’t quite ready to tell Marinette he’d figured out more of her secrets than she realized.

@wickidjennie

[crowsnests]

taste of certainty - part two

Fandom: The Arcana  Pairing: Julian Devorak x OC Apprentice (Syran Elkas) Tags: friends to lovers; modern times au; friend group dynamic; slow burn; pining; really just Julian being Julian and Syran being Oblivious Words: 6034 Warnings: mention of anxiety, migraines, insomnia, alcohol

part 1 2 3 4 5

playlist

I know that it can take me even deeper if I let it But my limbs are trying to swim away

- trust; half-alive

II. beach fire sparks

The car ride is mostly quiet, Nadia and Pasha sit at the front, humming along to the songs Pasha puts on– clearly some sort of playlist made just for the two of them. Syran looks out the window, buildings and lights passing by. The sound of Ilya’s voice doesn’t want to leave her mind.

Syran suddenly feels watched, so she pries away from the window, noticing how Pasha is leaning over the passenger seat to look at her.

“What?” Syran asks.

Nadia glances at her from the rearview mirror.

Pasha smiles, sly. “You know what.”

Syran thinks she does, but– she’s gonna pretend like she doesn’t. Mostly because she really doesn’t want to know what.

She shrugs, “I don't.”

Most of the time, if she focuses, Syran can be a good liar. She hopes to channel her talent right now, although she knows that sometimes Pasha has the ability to see through her.

“You really really don’t?” Pasha insists, smile getting wider.

Syran narrows her eyes, “You’re mad at me for the pizza choice?”

Pasha sighs, clearly impatient to Syran’s stubbornness.

“No! You and my brother!” She groans. “You got all cosy, and Ilya was all like ohhh hello and you were like oh shit, oh my god!!” She tries to imitate the two of them by changing her pitch. Badly. “Like, come on, just date already!”

“Wh– what?” Syran is a good liar, but hearing Pasha talk so earnestly about– whatever’s between her and Ilya is– weird.

“There’s no–” Syran swallows, trying to get her tone back to normal. “What do you mean? I’ve fallen asleep near you guys before– I mean. I just didn’t expect it to happen, this time. Why would we date? We’re friends.”

Please stop, please stop. She thinks.

Pasha furrows her brow. “Friends, huh? I mean, yes. You are friends. But mayyybe you could be friends that smooch.”

Nadia reaches to put a hand on Pasha’s thigh. Pasha turns to her for a second. “What? You know I’m right.”

“Your truth doesn’t mean it’s also Syran’s truth, babe.” Nadia’s tone is gentle, but she gives Syran an understanding look from the rearview mirror– Pasha doesn’t seem to notice.

Syran feels incredibly relieved. She is grateful to Nadia for bailing her out of this conversation.

“Yeah, my truth is very different from– whatever it is you think. Ilya and I are friends and we don’t– s– smooch.” Ah, she really wishes she didn’t say that last part.

Pasha narrows her eyes one more time. “Ugh, whatever,” she huffs, turning to sit properly, facing forward. “I just think you would be really good for my brother. He needs someone as nice as you.” She mutters, clearly more serious this time.

Syran can’t help but widen her eyes at that, flattered. She tries to ignore the heat on her cheeks, though.

“W–well, thank you, but there’s nothing like that between us.” Syran is trying to convince herself more than Pasha. Nadia throws her one last look from the mirror and she knows she’s caught on more than Syran would like.

As soon as Syran gets back home, a lazy meow greets her at the door. Her cat, Persephone, bumps her head against her calf. Syran reaches down to pick her up and scratch behind her ears.

“Hello, cutie, hope you didn’t feel too lonely today,” Syran plants a kiss on top of Persephone’s head. She lazily meows as a reply, in between all the purring.

The apartment is quiet besides that. Without Ran’s excited laugh and warm presence, the atmosphere in the house feels wrong.

Once Syran’s in her room and changed into comfortable clothes, all the embarrassment catches up to her as soon as she sits on the bed. She stares at the window for a second, then the thought of Ilya makes her want to hide herself further in bed and scream into a pillow, like she’s fifteen again and her emotions are all over the place.

Well, the latter is definitely true.

Persephone lays down beside her, kneading on the duvet until she finds a comfortable spot.

Just when she’s done strangling her pillow, Syran’s phone rings with the sound of a text.

from: dumbsra - 21:03

goodmorning (.❛ ᴗ ❛.)

Syran groans. She wants to punch him. She knows exactly what he’s referencing, but she is not going to fall for it.

to: dumbsra - 21:04

It’s nine pm

from: dumbsra - 21:04

Oh, i know (.❛ ᴗ ❛.)

to: dumbsra - 21:05

good to know you can read a clock, then

from: dumbsra - 21:07

I’m just saying, you looked like you were really comfortable tonight (.❛ ᴗ ❛.) (－ω－) zzZ (¬‿¬ ) °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°( ´ ▽ ` ).｡♡(„ಡωಡ„)

Fucking idiot. What is she even supposed to reply to that? Fuck you, would be appropriate, but she knows that it will give him more ground to make dumb jokes.

Why is everyone onto her?

to: dumbsra - 21:08

we need to discuss the way you use emojis, honestly, it’s a problem

from: dumbsra - 21:09

Ignore my words all you want, you know i can read your mind (つ✧ω✧)つ :｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

to: dumbsra - 21:10

then i’m sure you know what i’m thinking right now

from: dumbsra - 21:10

that you should ask Ilya out on a date?

(☞°ヮ°)☞ ☜(°ヮ°☜)

to: dumbsra - 21:12

No, that i stole your favourite shirt once and i will do it again

Goodnight! ( ◡‿◡ )

from: dumbsra - 21:12

ヽ(°〇°)ﾉ don’t you dare

Syran puts her phone down, stopping herself from answering more. She hears it vibrate a couple times, definitely Asra complaining about being left on seen, but she doesn’t care right now.

She turns to her cat, who looks up at her, languidly, “At least you’re on my side, right, Persie?”

Persephone just yawns and goes back to napping.

Syran sighs. All she wants to do is get ready for bed and not think about Ilya’s comforting presence.

🂱

When she arrives at the park entrance, their designated meeting spot for the winter fair, there’s enough people around for Syran to not find her friends immediately. That’s until she spots a tall figure on the side of the entrance.

“Muriel!” She calls, waving towards him.

When she reaches him, breath forming little clouds of vapor, Muriel smiles down at her, “Hey, Syran.”

Muriel is wearing dark green gloves that Syran remembers getting him a few birthdays ago. “Aww, you still wear them?”

Muriel nods, “They’re warm.”

“Hello babe,” Asra pops up from beside him and beams at her, all bundled up in a puffy jacket and bright teal beanie.

“Hey handsome,” she teases back, hugging him briefly. “Where are the others?”

“Pasha and Nadia should be here soon, Ilya is– somewhere.”

Syran blinks. Ilya can be late sometimes but he lives with the two of them, so– “Didn’t he come with you guys?”

“Yeah, then he forgot his wallet in the car,” Asra rolls his eyes.

Syran laughs at the thought of Ilya scrambling to get back to the car and looking for his wallet.

Idiot.

She realises she’s said it out loud when Asra throws her a look. She tries to hide her face in her scarf.

Ugh, does he have nothing else to think about?

“Hey!” Someone exclaims from behind them just then, saving her from any comments Asra might make. “Found it!”

Except that someone is Ilya, waving at them and running, dark crimson scarf coming loose to show his neck.

For fuck’s sake, she can’t catch a break. He looks handsome as always.

“Oh– hey Syran,” he comes to a halt right in front of her, surprised, as if he hadn’t seen her before. To be fair, she’s only the second shortest of the group (first being Pasha by an inch or so, thankfully), so maybe he really didn’t see her. Then, he smiles and Syran wishes her scarf was big enough to become a cocoon for her to hide in.

She’s fine. She’s okay.

( “I don’t have a crush!” she told Ran over the phone last night, after recounting the events of the evening. “That’s ridiculous. Ilya’s been my friend for a long time. He’s just– nice, okay?”

“Of course he’s nice, wasn’t he nice before?” Ran laughed. “Feelings can evolve, you know?”

“No– no– he was.” Syran huffed. “It’s nothing, okay? I’m just– I’m just tired, all these years I’ve been fine, so I’m fine now too.”

She could almost see Ran raising her eyebrow at her, “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Syran insisted. “I know very well what a crush feels like. Whatever I feel for Ilya is– not a crush. It’s fondness, friendship. Not– anything else.”

Ran sighed, surrendering. “Whatever you say, Elkas.” )

Ilya’s eyes are so hard to look away from, but Syran finds the strength to put her hands in her pockets and stare at her boots. Pretty safe defense mechanism, if you ask her.

“So, what’s the plan?” Ilya asks the group.

“Well, I assume since you found your wallet you’re going to pay for everyone?” Asra smirks.

Ilya scoffs, “You still owe me money for that dinner we had, Asra.”

“I paid you back!”

“A mug you shoplifted isn’t exactly the same,” Ilya retorts.

“It’s a beautiful mug and It reminded me of you! Isn’t the thought that counts?”

“It literally says World’s Worst Doctor, you little shit–”

“You still use it though!”

Muriel and Syran exchange a sympathetic smile, knowing very well the bickering between the two can be neverending. This argument comes up at least once a week.

Thankfully, Nadia and Pasha join them, interrupting the discussion.

“Market time!” Pasha exclaims as she runs for the entrance, Nadia and Ilya in tow.

They enter the park, all decorated, pretty lights illuminating everyone’s stunned faces.

They’ve been here before, when they put it up, but they have changed some of the stalls since– regardless, it’s always a fun night for them. The little wooden cabins sell all sorts of things. People crowd them, looking at the different displays.

Syran drifts towards one that sells honey from a small independent company. She and Asra sample some of it, while the others spread over the displays around them. Pasha buys a scented candle, Nadia some golden handmade earrings, Asra decides to get yet another set of incense, and Muriel takes a liking to a little hand-carved wolf sculpture.

Syran finds herself by a stall that sells minerals and crystals, all neatly separated by wooden boxes. She recognises some of her favourites: lepidolite, chrysocolla, black opal, agate. The stall owner smiles at her, reassuring her that she can look at them closely.

She picks up a lepidolite rock, looking at how the light reflects on the coarse lilac surface.

“Anything interesting?” A voice comes up behind her, startles her enough for her to almost drop the crystal.

She takes a second to regain her thoughts, still recovering from the small jumpscare. Ilya curiously inspects the display, like he didn’t just give her a mild heart attack.

“These are cool! Do you collect them?” He asks, leaning closer to look at some tiger’s eye.

“More or less,” Syran nods. “I’ve always liked to, since I was a kid.”

Ilya turns to her, grin on his face. “Aww, baby Syran playing with rocks!”

She rolls her eyes but not without a smile, “They are pretty rocks!”

Ilya laughs, then nods. “Yeah, I guess they are.”

Syran stares at him for a second, both of them just standing there as she still holds the lepidolite.

It’s not a crush.

Ilya turns back to the crystals, suddenly averting her gaze. “So, uhm– they all have meanings, right?” He points at the display with his gloved hand.

“Yeah, each has its proprieties– people use them for meditation, or for healing, things like that.”

Ilya looks up at her again, brows knotted. “You believe in that stuff?”

Syran shrugs, “I mean– I like the idea that something can help you find whatever strength or energy you need. Quartz gives you clarity, agate helps with stability, amethyst with intuition– you know, they’re quite empowering.”

“Still, why rely on something external to bring you those things?” He tilts his head, like he’s genuinely trying to understand, albeit a bit skeptical. “How can a stone give you that?”

Syran can’t help but chuckle. “Guess you could think like that. But they're supposed to help you find that in yourself, to bring it out. At least in my opinion.” She looks at the display again. “Plus, why not? If it helps somebody feel better, why take that away?”

She feels Ilya’s gaze on her for a second, before he turns to look up at the rest of the display. “Mh, that’s a nice take.”

Syran side eyes him. “Ah, men of science,” She sighs.

Ilya laughs. “Don’t you have a degree in biology? And– what’s that supposed to mean?”

She shakes her head, picking up another crystal to look at it. Citrine. “Nothing, just– people in your field are often cynical of stuff like this.”

“Are you calling me closed-minded?” Ilya sounds offended, but it takes Syran one look to know that he’s joking.

“Mh– you said that, not me,” she teases.

Ilya smirks. “Okay, what does this one mean, then?” He picks out a random crystal and shows it to her with childlike gall. Syran looks at it. Moonstone.

Oh, great.

“Uh– it’s about hidden feelings? Helps to heal relationships and opening up– yeah. I mean, it’s written on the paper there.” She vaguely points at the box where the moonstones are, turning away from him. She doesn’t need to tell him everything about it.

Ilya laughs, then delicately puts the stone back. “Well, okay, okay.”

A man steps up to the display right by Ilya, trying to look at the rocks in front of him. Startled, Ilya steps closer towards Syran, apologising to the man.

She sighs, small and imperceptible, because of course he had to get even closer.

Syran moves her gaze to look at the necklaces at the back, pendants made with various crystals. There’s an aquamarine one, calming blue and really pretty.

“What is it?” Julian is so close he’s basically whispering in her ear.

“Huh?” She doesn’t dare look towards him.

“Which one are you looking at?”

“Oh, that one–” She points at it. “The light blue one.”

“What’s that?”

“Aquamarine I think– uh, it’s connected to water. Healing, moving on. Stuff like that.”

Ilya hums. “Looks nice. It suits you.”

“Uh, I do–”

Syran gets interrupted when someone pats her hard on the shoulder, startling her. Again. Ilya seems to feel the same.

“We thought we’d lost you guys!” Pasha’s voice doesn’t sound reprimanding, rather she has a wide smile on her face when they turn to her. Behind her, there’s only Muriel, piercing eyes on them.

“Where are the others?” Ilya asks.

“Nadi’s already at the skating rink with Asra,” Pasha grins. “So you better get going.”

Ilya gasps. “That’s cheating!”

He darts away towards the rink, Pasha hot on his tail, taunting him with predictions of his downfall.

Syran can’t help but laugh. She and Muriel fall behind, taking their time to reach the others.

“That’s nice to see,” Muriel says, breaking the silence.

“What is?” Syran turns her head up to look at him.

“The two of them– being on good terms.”

“Were they– not?” Syran asks, brows knotted.

“Well– ah, it’s a long story. Probably not my place to tell.” Muriel shakes his head. “Sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, that’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.” She smiles, understanding. She can’t say she’s not surprised at the news, though. Ilya and Pasha seem to be really close, it’s hard to imagine them anything but.

Muriel smiles back, puts his hands in the pockets on his coat, shoulders rising up a little. “Yeah, I just– I wonder how it is. To have siblings.”

Right.

Muriel is an only child and he was raised by his grandma. Syran doesn’t know much about his life growing up, she’s always assumed he never wanted to talk about it.

She wonders if maybe he just never felt like anyone wanted to listen. That’s the case for her, anyway.

“It depends, I guess,” Syran says. “Everyone’s got their story.”

Muriel nods. “Yeah– do you– I mean, maybe I don’t remember but– do you have siblings?”

She thinks of her little sister back at home with her mother. Growing up without a second parent and having to mature early to help around the house, Syran never had the chance to get close to her sibling.

“I do. A younger sister, but–” Syran looks ahead as the skating rink comes into view. “We’re not like them. I rarely hear from her now. I don’t think she likes me very much. I mostly find out what she’s up to through my mother, so. Yeah.” She sighs. “Yvaine has always been a mystery to me.”

Muriel stops as they reach the edge of the skating rink. “Guess you can’t choose family,” he sighs.

“Guess not,” Syran smiles, bitterly. Then she looks up at Muriel again. “But hey, that’s okay. You got something better.”

Muriel frowns, looking at her with confusion. “Huh?”

She grins. “You got us.”

Muriel takes a second, blinks once.

Then he starts laughing. It rises slowly, his eyes crinkle up and his smile grows wide. He reaches out to ruffle Syran’s hair, affectionately. She’d complain, usually, but she can only laugh with him.

“Yeah– I do. We all got each other,” He says.

Then, Asra calls to them from inside the skating rink, leaning on the edge. “Hey, you two! Stop wasting time!”

🂱

Syran hasn’t skated in a while, but she quickly gets the hang of it again. She and Muriel seem to be the ones struggling the most, though. It takes a bit, but once she finds her pace, she starts going around the rink with more confidence, running into her friends now and then, sharing laughter, and throwing playful jabs at each other.

“You’re not that bad!” Ilya says as he comes up to her, starts skating by her side.

She shakes her head with a smile, “Please, I almost broke my spine earlier.”

“Not your most graceful moment, I’ll admit,” He teases.

“Hey, you’re supposed to support me!” She tries to playfully swat at his arm but ends up losing balance instead. Just when she thinks she’s going to fall on her face again, Ilya holds her steady. Close to him.

Too close, once again.

She can smell the musk of his perfume, she wonders if he can hear her beating heart.

It’s not a crush.

“Thank you,” She utters up at Ilya, words coming out in a puff of vapor.

“It’s okay,” Ilya smiles, still holding her. “Anytime.”

She looks away. “Hopefully not, I’d rather not risk falling again.” Syran laughs, still feeling the pain on her buttcheek from the last time she fell.

“Well, yeah.” Ilya laughs back.

Then it’s like he realises he’s still holding her, and– she remembers it, too. He slowly pulls away from her as she stands properly again. “Uh, hey, by the way–”

Asra skates up to them just then, interrupting Ilya. “You losers been still for too long, stop blocking the path!”

Syran gapes at him. “I wasn’t aware there was an ice skating police?”

Asra huffs, “There is one now! Move!” He goes to push her, but she slinks away with a laugh. He starts chasing her and Ilya yells back at them.

“Am I off the hook, then?”

Asra follows Syran, trying to get her, although he stumbles here and there. Differently from Syran, he finds his balance again quickly, laughing in glee.

It lasts only a moment, but she meets her gaze with Ilya’s across the rink. Wasn’t he saying something?

But before she can think about it Asra takes Syran for a spin, makes her twirl, holds her hand. It’s fun like this, and they properly start skating together. They enjoy their time and joke around– and sometimes still fall on their asses.

It’s great, but it starts to get a little taxing for her. “I think I’m done for now,” Syran heaves when they come to a halt in a corner of the rink, leaning onto the rail.

“What, giving up already?” Asra pouts.

“My face is going numb.” She puts her gloved hands on her cheeks, but it doesn’t help much– they’re all wet from falling on the ice.

Nadia comes up to them, perfect form and game face on her features. “Quitting so soon? You guys are hopeless.”

“Uh, excuse me?” Asra glares back. “We don’t claim to be professionals.”

“Not all of us see this as a competition, Nadi,” Syran smirks. Nadia almost looks insulted, but it’s all for show.

“Is that a challenge?”

“It really isn’t,” Syran laughs. Then, she notices Ilya coming their way. “Plus, looks like you’ve got your hands full already.”

Nadia turns just as Ilya catches up to them, breath heavy and hands on his hips. “What’s up Satrinava, ready to resign?”

“In your dreams, Devorak.” She glares. “Next one to touch the rail is out.”

Ilya squints at her. “You’re on.”

Syran smiles as they go off, skating away in the midst of the other people. Both of them look effortless, although Nadia is something else completely. She twirls and jumps, dares Ilya to do the same. He tries, but it’s not as graceful.

This is Nadia Satrinava we’re talking about, after all.

Eventually, Syran steps off the rink, finding Muriel already leaning outside by the rail, chatting to Pasha who’s still inside. They’re both acting like there’s no chaos generated by the others on the rink

“Done?” Pasha asks when Syran walks up to them, still feeling a little weird from having her feet back on normal ground.

“Yeah– it’s all fun and games until you get bruises everywhere.”

Muriel laughs, “Couldn’t agree more.”

“Aw, you guys need to believe in yourselves a little! The more you try the better you get!” Pasha’s encouraging words are sweet. “Plus, if Ilya can do it without making a complete fool of himself, so can you.”

“I don’t know, he seems to be struggling a little,” Muriel hums, nodding towards the others.

Pasha turns and Syran can see that Ilya looks definitely more tired than Nadia. There’s still resolve on his face, she can see it more clearly as they slowly approach their side of the rink.

“Go babe, show him how it’s done!” Pasha starts cheering.

A second before Nadia passes by them, she winks at Pasha and sends her a kiss, effortless and elegant. Ilya, hot on her tail, just sneers at his sister, raising up his middle finger. She gives back just as much.

“He’s gonna go down,” Pasha mutters. Then she turns to them. “Gonna do a few more rounds and see if Asra wants to do some stunts. See ya later!” She waves just before skating off.

Once again, Syran and Muriel are left alone, fondly smiling at their friends.

“This is quite the show, I have to admit,” Syran laughs. “Cheering from the sidelines.”

“Mh, I think no one is rooting for Ilya, though.” Muriel says.

Syran realises that’s kinda true. “Oops– well, hey. Maybe I’ll cheer for the both of them.”

Muriel side eyes her. “Mh. No preference at all?”

“Uh, yeah, I mean. We all know how Nadia can get, so I kinda feel bad for Ilya.” She chuckles, looking at Nadia as she expertly swings past a few surprised people, skating backwards to laugh at Ilya.

“Right,” Muriel says under his breath. Syran feels his eyes on her, so she turns back to him.

“What?”

For a second there’s a small smirk on his face, but then Muriel shrugs and turns back to the skating rink. “Nothing.”

Syran narrows her eyes, kinda weirded out.

Muriel is not the type to beat around the bush, he’ll usually say what he thinks and with as few words as possible, so it takes Syran a little by surprise.

“Not convincing.”

He huffs a laugh, ruffles Syran’s hair again. This time she pouts up at him. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

“You’re being weird,” Syran turns towards the rink as she adjusts her hair. “What about you, big guy? Any bets?”

“Oh, hundred percent Nadia. Pasha and I have some sort of bingo going on, though.” Muriel laughs again.

“Bingo?”

“Yeah, like everytime Nadia flips Ilya off, everytime Ilya apologises to someone for almost bumping into them, everytime Nadia winks at Pasha, stuff like that. Winner gets fifty bucks.”

“You guys are ruthless.”

Muriel smirks, “Maybe.”

“What’s the criteria for this competition anyway? It’s like they just make up rules on the spot.”

Syran says, a little confused. It just looks like a weird version of tag where insulting shouts are thrown across the rink as the other patrons turn around in shock.

“I’m not sure. I’m not even sure they know,” Muriel shrugs. “Ilya looks pretty confident, though.”

And yet, no more than a minute later, Ilya stumbles on his feet and spins around, trying really hard to stay up on his own. However, he puts a little too much energy in his step and that makes him haphazardly skate his way towards where Muriel and Syran are.

“Oh no–” Syran starts.

“Shit, fuck–” Ilya comes to a halt right in front of them, hands on the rail and torso leaning forward. His chin is just a few inches to the left of Syran’s cheek. “Uh– hey.” He says with a side glance.

“H– hey.” Syran answers. It’s okay, her heart is doing absolutely nothing right now. She’s not mad at the universe at all.

He really has a nice perfume.

Ilya slowly gets back up, smiling awkwardly at her. “Sorry ‘bout that.” Then, pushes himself off the rail, looking at his hands with eyes wide. “Oh no. Shit. Did Nadia see that?”

Muriel raises an eyebrow. “I think everybody did.”

As if on queue, cheers of victory rise from behind Ilya, making him wince. Pasha kisses Nadia and Asra claps vehemently– then, they all start skating towards them, clearly enjoying Ilya’s demise.

“You owe me a drink, Devorak. Again.” Nadia beams when she reaches the rail. Ilya just side-eyes her.

“Whatever. You got lucky.”

🂱

They end up in the big cabin by the rink that houses a cafè/pub. Warm drinks in hand and sitting by the fire, all of their frozen nerves from the ice skating start to melt.

It’s cozy and comforting, a nice relief for Syran after the cold of the ice rink. All of them are chatting and teasing Ilya for his loss. He laughs with them, but eventually they start reassuring him too, even Nadia, saying that he wasn’t that bad, after all.

Syran decides to buy him mulled wine, served in a ceramic mug with some cheesy winter phrase printed on.

“Consolation prize!” She cheers, coming back from the bar.

“Oh my, this is such a beautiful gift Syran,” Ilya says, theatrically. “I shall cherish it with all my heart, thank you.” He mock cries, playfully dabbing at nonexistent tears under his eyes.

Syran laughs under her breath as she sits back next to Asra, rolling his eyes.

The patrons around them die out and Ilya excuses himself to the bathroom. The moment he leaves, Pasha cozies up to Nadia, the two discussing the victory again. They all chat a bit, Pasha making fun of Asra’s odd faces while skating. Then, a moment of comfortable silence between all of them.

Asra’s eyes are immediately on her.

“What?” Syran wonders, feeling put on the spot.

“Nothing,” Asra smiles. It’s his coy smile that says everything and nothing. She has the urge to punch it off his smug face.

Syran decides to ignore him.

“So, Muriel, how’s the bingo going?” She asks him.

“Oh, I’m winning.”

He exchanges a glance with Asra, the two of them almost communicating telepathically.

“Ok, now I feel like there’s something here.”

“I don’t know, is there?” Pasha asks.

“Yeah, is there?” Asra adds.

“Could you stop being a gemini for half a second?”

Muriel laughs at Syran’s joke, but she keeps a serious face.

“Aw, I love you.” Asra side-hugs her, trying to diffuse the situation. “Also no, I can’t. Just like you can’t stop looking at Ilya like that.”

“I don’t–”

“Who’s looking like what?” Ilya is back from the bathroom, and he slowly sits down back in his chair, perfectly arched eyebrows raised.

“You, like an idiot on the rink! Ha!” Asra immediately changes the topic, leaving Syran hanging. She won’t forget, not this time.

Muriel sips his wine, side eyeing them. There’s another sly motherfucker.

Just as it arrived, however, the weird mood is gone, and all is back to normal. Once again Syran finds herself being grateful for her friends. No matter how tough things get, she knows they will be all there for each other.

Even though they are most definitely hiding things from her.

🂱

Syran’s Sundays mostly consist of catching up on shows, cuddling with Persephone, taking time to cook meals she loves, and doing some grocery shopping. She also takes care of her plants and, sometimes, gets a headstart on work.

Asra calls her boring, but she finds peace in it. It’s not that she doesn’t like going out, she loves a good party every now and then, but there’s a different kind of pleasure in taking care of the small things. Plus, now that she’s got the apartment to herself for the week, she can play loud music and karaoke as much as she wants.

Really, it’s a blast.

When her phone rings in the middle of the day, just as she’s moving her big potus out of the sun, she groans. Her hands are full, so she shifts the big pot in one arm and lodges her phone between her head and shoulder without checking– she expects Asra to be calling her to continue their previous text conversation. She has not let go of what he said at the Winter Market.

“For the millionth time, it’s not what you think!”

“Oh, it isn’t?” A deep chuckle resonates from the other side of the phone.

Shit.

“Oh– fuck– uh, thought you were Asra– ah, I mean– hi, Ilya.”

“Hi, Syran,” He laughs, all throathy and low. Ugh. “Am I bothering you?”

“No, not at all– just taking care of my plants– uh, give me a second.” She puts the potus on the kitchen counter, grabbing the phone before it slides down her neck.

“Okay, all set, what’s up?” She tries to act nonchalant. Well, she is nonchalant. This is just Ilya, after all. Her good friend, Ilya. Yep. Nothing to worry about.

“Well, as you know, Pasha’s birthday is coming up soon,” he starts.

“Oh, yeah, right! Damn, I almost forgot.”

Ilya laughs. “Me too, to be honest.”

Syran can’t help but chuckle too, then gasp dramatically. “Why, your own sister?”

“Shh– don’t tell her or she’ll kill me. I’ve been very busy with my research, ‘kay?” He sounds solemn, but she can tell he’s smiling.

“All right, I’ll cover for you– if you buy me a coffee,” She laughs.

A little voice in her head asks where is this confidence coming from anyway?

Then again, this is just Ilya.

“Deal,” he answers.

Ilya, who’s now just being quiet on the other side of the line. “Sooo, why are you calling me?” Syran asks, tapping her fingers on her kitchen counter.

“Oh, right, well– Okay, so. Well, I don’t know what present to get Pasha. I know it sounds lame, but I genuinely have no idea what she might want this year.”

Syran stops for a second, thinking of Pasha and what she’s like. She likes plants, but she’s got plenty of those. She likes pretty clothes and cute shoes, but those would be hard to get right. Syran finds herself coming up short of a sure answer.

“I see– have you asked Nadia?”

“I tried, but she replied with something vague, and then got competitive because she is going to get the best present anyway, or something.”

His answer makes her laugh again. Of course: Nadia is extremely kind, gentle, and helpful– except when she decides to win against everyone else.

“I assume the others weren’t much help either?”

Ilya sighs, “Well, Muriel just shrugged and pointed out that she likes flowers, Asra suggested a glow in the dark lava lamp, so– yeah, no.”

“So, I guess now it’s my turn to give advice?” Syran chuckles, padding to the other side of the kitchen, where Persephone is lounging in the sun. She scratches her fur.

“More or less,” Ilya trails off.

“Huh?”

“Well, I was– uh, I was wondering if you could come with me. To get her the present? Really I don’t know if you’ve already picked something, but. Uhh– maybe we could work on it together? Since you know her well, and all? And I’ll get you that coffee, too.” He huffs a laugh, almost nervous.

A day going around shops with Ilya? Just the two of them? That’s fine, Syran’s fine, it’s no big deal at all.

“She’s your sister, Ilya,” she can’t help but tease him a bit. “I’m sure you know her well, too.”

“Yeah, I know she’s my sister.” He scoffs, fake annoyed, “But– I mean, yeah, I kind of know what she likes– but every year is hard, and I’m not the best at presents– and you seem to be great at it, so–” He trails off.

Syran listens, trying to figure out where this is really going. If she were actually great at presents, she would know what to get Pasha in a heartbeat. But, regardless, she likes to think she’s got a good eye.

She doesn’t know whether to stop him and reassure him or let him talk. But before she can decide, Ilya continues.

“And. Uh. This year she’s throwing this big themed party, too, and it’s the first time I get to meet all her friends, n’stuff. I don’t even know what to wear–” He sounds really concerned. “Truthfully, I just want to make her happy. I feel like the last two years I didn’t do great, so. Yeah.” He sighs. “And– and, I don’t want to lose to Nadia, either.” He ends it like he’s confessing a deep, dark secret.

It makes Syran laugh, thinking him cute for worrying about his sister so much.

Then, she swats away the idea of Ilya and the word cute in the same sentence.

“I’m sure she’ll be happy whatever you get her, Ilya,” Syran smiles, hoping to reassure him. Persephone turns to expose her belly, meowing coyly. “Don’t stress yourself so much, you clearly care a lot and that’s enough to make a good present.”

“Thank you, uh. That’s. That’s nice of you to say.” He mutters, and Syran thinks she can feel him be a little relieved.

“Just saying the truth,” she wishes the smile on her face wasn’t so goddamn insistent. She and Ilya have this sort of mutual understanding, where not many words are needed to guess how the other’s feeling. Well, most of the time. Still, she lately realised how surprisingly similar they are.

And yeah, recently Syran has been feeling a different kind of pull towards Ilya, but she doesn’t need to think about that. She’ll be dead before she catches anyone thinking him cute anyway.

“So…” Ilya starts then, shaking Syran from her thoughts. “Is that a no? On the– uh, present hunting?”

“What– no, it’s a yes, I mean, yeah, no, I’ll come!” Syran replies before thinking, surprised, and a little too eager.

Fuck. She takes a deep breath.

“What I mean is: I’d be more than happy to help you pick a gift. I need to get one myself, anyway.”

“Ah, that’s great,” He exhales, clearly relieved. Then, he seems to regain his composure. “Are you free on Wednesday?”

[tartagilicious]

Victor - Coming Home (translated date)

Here’s another translated date, requested by @shimizusora​! This time, here’s the card beforehand, as I couldn’t find the separate versions to place when they appear ^^

spoilers for a date not released in EN server beneath the cut~

The meeting has lasted for almost 3 hours, and everyone is waiting for Victor’s final decision. In addition to dignity and fatigue, his expression also showed a trace of annoyance: before he came, he did not expect the situation to be so heavy!

Earlier, when it acquired shares in the SE online video platform, LFG issued a circular to the public saying that this was an important and strategic move for LFG to sweep the overseas film and television market.

In just two years, SE was in debt due to a bad project, and the capitol chain was broken several times -- all accounting for a debt totaling 10 billion…

Many insiders in the industry secretly insulted Victor and took a few days to turn a blind eye; after all, this incident was only passable as a joke for the wine table to them. The people of LFG’s public relations department exhausted all available media resources to suppress the negative rumours of this matter as much as possible. Fortunately, the news did not end up flowing out.

Only this time, LFG did lose.

Everyone at the meeting exchanged glances. The president had not closed his eyes for two days -- from his plane landing to now. He had spent a lot of time looking at the report documents, and sometimes the project information. He even tended to sit alone in the meeting room for several hours.

No one dared to step forward and say something, even the question of a cup of coffee seeming threatening.

It wasn’t until everyone came to the meeting room three hours ago that they found the dinner they had sent was still tucked in the corner they had left it.

Goldman: President, the most difficult problem is in the long return period of the project. SE now also has stable advertising revenue and a large amount of copyright resources, which we can fully leverage on their acquisition, wholly owned. (t/n: big words. He’s basically saying that with the deal, LFG can buy the aforementioned things and get complete ownership of them.)

Goldman: With LFG’s resources involved, these batches of information may not be able to go online smoothly, and there will be a turn around.

Victor: There’s no need for this.

Victor closed the folder in his hand and raised his eyes across the conference table.

Victor: Talk about prices with a few funds, don’t make a habit of stepping deeper and deeper.

The lengthy meeting ended at this moment.

When Victor returned to the hotel, the number of unread messages accumulated on his mobile phone exceeded one hundred again. He didn’t pay attention to this information, though, just clicking a single number from the countless list of tips.  

Unsurprisingly, it was all nonsense gossip, accompanied by small expressions of different styles.

Victor loosened his tie and read them one by one from top to bottom.

“I made an improved egg omelet for dinner, would you like to try it?”

“What’s Goldman’s circle of friends talking about? I know you’re probably irritated and tired, but I hope the meeting still goes smoothly!”

“Remember to eat…”

“Also remember to sleep!”

Victor’s motion stopped after that line, and soft emotions flooded his eyes.

“The internet celebrity lawyer I told you about last time agreed to my interview invitation, so I have to hurry up and plan the case for this Saturday. Do you want to come supervise the work?”

Victor opened the dialogue box and typed a single ‘good’, and immediately received a cat with a smiling expression. But, he raised his eyebrows slightly when thinking about the time in China.

I sat up in bed and was preparing to have a long discussion about the weekend schedule, but my phone in my hand suddenly rang and shocked me.

Victor [over the phone]: did you sleep or stay up?

MC: haha….

Victor: Why are you laughing?

MC: Because I feel like that’s often asked by me, but now you’re the one asking…

Victor: It’s only 5 o’clock here, but there..

I understood what he meant.

MC: I wanted to wait for your reply and couldn’t sleep well, ok…..

I rolled over in bed and changed to a more comfortable position and held the phone against my ear.

MC: What projects have you been busy with this time? Is it going well?

Victor: Smoothly. But, you should go back to sleep again before it’s too early.

MC: ...I’m not too sleepy. You told me before, but will you still come back Thursday?

Victor: Before Saturday.

MC, sadly: Today is only Tuesday, and today’s sun isn’t even out.

I heard Victor laugh seemingly indiscriminately, and I noticed a little laziness in his low voice.

Victor, softly and groggily: Is it too late?

MC: Don’t you dare, as long as it’s not for something important, postpone your return. But, even if it’s necessary for work, you still have to say one thing, you have to promise me:

A slow sigh fell to my ears, revealing faint fatigue.

Victor: Go on.

MC: You can’t stop eating or sleeping.

The other side of the phone was silent for a few seconds.

Victor, humming: Then, I promise you.

The misty light of Loveland was reflected faintly on the curtains, and in the moments of silence, I closed my eyes to feel the frequency of every breath from him.

MC: ...It has been raining in Paris these past few days.  

Victor: It’s the season.

MC: The meetings… Are they cold?

Victor: Not badly.

My consciousness became uncontrollably deeper, but I could still clearly capture his voice from within the grotesque dream.

Victor, sweetly: Sleep if you’re tired. I’ll hang up now.

MC: ..No… I’m not sleepy… Don’t go.

Victor: Your words are slurred but you still refuse to sleep?

MC: …

I can wake up in five seconds.

I hummed gently, not sure if I actually said this.

Soon, Victor’s long and heavy breathing was close to my ears, very close, making me feel calm and almost as if I was next to him.

Victor: Sleeping?

MC: ….

Victor: Go to bed.

Victor: ….

Victor: Sleep peacefully.

On Saturday afternoon, I looked up at the wall clock for the nth time. Until the hour hand reached the number 3, I couldn’t help but call Victor. But after waiting, the robotic voice reminding me that the other party could not be contacted sounded. The doorbell rang before I could react.

Victor, who was standing outside the door, was putting his phone back in his pocket the moment I opened it. I looked hesitantly at his empty hands.

MC: Your luggage…

Victor: I let Goldman take it back, and I’ll go to LFG tonight.

With that said, he entered the door and walked to my bedroom after changing his shoes at the entrance.

Victor: What have you been doing these past two days?

He walked over to the coffee table, and carefully picked up the interview outline that I had been writing all morning. A corner of his lips raised with a single glance.

Victor, teasingly: You said that you worked hard for several days, and listed a few outlines.

MC: Don’t underestimate me, I have read a lot of information in the past few days, see--

I pointed to a pile of hot social cases and legal books on the ground to show Victor.

MC: I did not sharpen the woodworker by mistake. And I’m also very self-knowledged, aren’t I, supervisor?

I busied myself and dragged a chair to the coffee table, and took a medium-sized pillow and placed it on the back of it.

MC: You sit.

MC: I guarantee that from this second, I will devote myself to planning, and I will surely have the first version of the results before the sun goes down.

Victor couldn’t help but laugh, hang his coat up by the door, and pull out the chair. Just sitting down, I remembered what it seemed like, and sighed slightly.

Victor: Let me borrow your computer.

I handed the laptop to Victor, and a thought flashed through me. How could he come here without a computer?

MC: Victor Li, when were you infected with my bad habit of losing everything?

Victor: Only once. I put in the backseat of my car and forgot to bring it down.

Victor avoided my gaze, and opened the LFG website without changing his expression, and approved the documents.

Victor: The sun will go down in two hours.

MC: Maybe the sun won’t want to go home today. (t/n: maybe the sun will stay up a bit longer and she’ll get to work on her report longer)

I sat back in my position and looked at Victor from across the table with a hand under my chin. The light golden slightly projected from the window slowly enveloped Victor. The quiet and warm light was also calmed by his smooth wooden fragrance, which was very comfortable.

Victor didn’t speak, and tapped his fingers one by one, so in the quiet room, even the sound of our breathing was quietly amplified.

Not knowing how long I had taken, he finally raised his eyes to meet mine.

Victor: Will staring at me finish the planning case?

MC: I’m not staring at you, but conceiving a plan in my heart.

As soon as my voice fell, a short ‘ding’ sounded.

MC: Wait for me~

I ran out of the room and to the kitchen, taking out the fragrant cookie from the oven. I put it down carefully to cool, and took it back with two hot drinks.

MC: Afternoon tea time!

Victor took care of his cup, the steam rising up to slightly warm his eyebrows. The milk in his glass was a light temperature, and the similarly warm scent of the cookies melted into the room.

MC: Your dark circles are so heavy, didn’t you at least drink coffee while you were away?

Victor: I’m fine.

I thought Victor didn’t mean to drink the milk, but when the words left his mouth, he still picked up the glass. After watching, I pushed the dish with cookies in front of him again.

MC: Take a look at my new designs. Cute, huh?

I pointed to the painted kittens with different expressions on the cookies to show Victor.

MC: This one is yawning, this one is surprised, this one is asleep, but I like this one the most--

MC: It looks really angry, so I named it “flaming”.

Victor glanced in the direction of my finger.

Victor: It looks like you.

MC: Is that so?

I let air fill my cheeks, trying to look like the cat on the cookie, and raised my face to look at Victor. He didn’t react, and his eyes that were connected with mine were full of silence. I just smiled and picked up “buffoon” and brought it to his lips. (t/n: “buffoon” as in another named cookie)

MC: Can you try it?

Victor took a bite of the cookie in my hands and looked back at the computer.

MC: Would you like to comment?

His lips were pulled into a weak line, and I couldn’t tell if he was smiling or not. Then, he moved a little closer and ate the remaining half of “buffoon” in my hand. Warm lips briefly rubbed my fingertips, leaving a soft warmth in its wake. A fluffy, sweet, happiness suddenly bloomed in my heart.

I patted away the crumbs on my finger with satisfaction and picked up the pen again. The smooth tip made a rustling sound on the paper, and I wrote it down with the same strokes of the previous outline.

But today’s weather is so nice….

The sky is a clean blue, the clouds a lazy white, and the room is full of rich and warm fragrance. I turned away absently, quietly looking to Victor. The sense sunlight was reflected in his dark pupils, refracting the invisible layers of his thoughts into a glorious glow.

He doesn’t have any emotion when he works, and his expression is always calm. But the appearance of deep concentration in his eyes is not the same as usual.

To say what’s different….. It’s probably even more eye-catching.

Victor: It’s only been a few minutes, and how many times have you lost your concentration?

I quickly returned my eyes and scribbled onto the paper, pretending to be like a good student who was caught by the teacher during a lesson. But, my ideas were not connecting, and nothing could be written, so I opted to draw a little heart on the upper right corner of the white paper instead.

I noticed that Victor was still focused, so I kept drawing this little heart, adding a tilde to its tail. But after a short pause, I sighed and raised my eyes slightly.

Victor sighed.

MC, flushed: ..I can’t help it.

Victor: And what can’t you help?

MC: I can’t help but look at you.

I folded my arms and changed to a more comfortable position on the table, tilting my head and looking at Victor. He chuckled almost inaudibly and was about to speak, then a familiar ringtone came from his pocket.

After seeing Victor answer the phone, all the messy thoughts in my head disappeared in one evil stroke, secretly lost.

Victor: the time now is…..

Victor looked at the bottom right corner of the computer during his speech, paused for a moment, and then quickly looked back to the mobile phone.

Victor: It’s 4:30 right now, so let them reply to me by 8pm.

He hung up the phone in a concise manner, and I asked a little hesitantly,

MC: Are you…. Going back to LFG now?

Victor: Don’t worry, I won’t go.

Victor said this, muting the volume of his phone and sliding it to the corner of the table. Facing my doubtful eyes, there was a trace of helplessness in his calm eyes.

Victor: Your computer is in Paris’s time.

I didn’t understand the random topic for a moment, but nodded subconsciously.

MC: Well, it’s more convenient to look at the time like this.

Victor didn’t speak, and glanced at the computer again. At this time, the system pushed out the weather forecast for the next 5 days in Paris -- a continuous rain every day. He smiled lightly and closed the computer slowly.

Victor: ...it’s all getting stupidly convenient.

MC: Yes, yes, taking care of a fool like me really makes the president troubled…

I deliberately stopped talking there, and couldn’t help laughing with Victor as I got up and picked up the two empty glasses.

MC: I’m going to go wash the cups, do you want anything else to eat?

Victor: No need. Do you think I’m you?

I groaned, irritated, and turned my head towards the kitchen.

I originally thought it would take less than a few minutes to wash the cups, but after I cleaned them and cleaned all the tools I used for baking before, a half an hour had passed.

When I came back, Victor was already lying on the bed, still holding my unfinished outline. I walked past him quietly, and whispered near his ear.

MC: Victor, are you asleep?

Victor didn’t answer me, only taking a shallow breath that made his twilight-coloured eyelashes tremble.

MC: Are you really asleep or pretending to sleep?

I climbed onto the bed, approaching him little by little.

MC: ...Victor?

I called him again softly, but he still did not stir. Only the corner of lips raised, into a badly hidden smile.

MC: You didn’t fall asleep!

I laid my arm on the bed and picked up a few strands of his hair. Looking down at his smoother and sharper jawline, my fingertips unconsciously rubbed against the tips of his hair.

MC, whispering: ...Have you been tired recently?

Victor, with his eyes still closed: No.

In his words, there is obviously fatigue. I don’t know if he has rested in these past few days, and the possibility of him fainting after a bit of relaxation crosses my mind.

MC: Didn’t you read the outline of my interview? How does it look?

Victor: I see what you’re written.

I thought of the heart with the small tail, and was suddenly caught speechless.

Victor: You deliberately brought this to your supervisor, but in the time I’ve been here, you wrote so few lines?

MC: Yeah, I guess you should go overseas more often, then. When you are near, the efficiency of my work plummets!

I reached out and pulled away the notebook in his hands, and covered him with a blanket. Victor turned his face and looked at me for a moment with his eyes half open. I rarely saw his tired eyes, but felt that all the emotions in my heart were softened a hundred times by him in that moment.

MC: Still want to go to LFG after a while? I’ll wake you up at 7:30.

With Victor’s degree of rigor in scheduling, this time, he temporarily canceled several important meetings and later flew to Paris while delaying the return time twice. He had already said that it would be before Saturday, but suddenly, it was changed to Saturday…..

It’s not very difficult, it won’t be like that. He’s also very stubborn in insisting he’s not tired.

I put my index fingers on his temples and slowly massaged circles into them. After a moment, a flirty smile overflowed from his lips.

Victor, laughing: …..

Victor pulled my right hand and wrapped my fingers into his palm, and moved me closer to him wordlessly. The close distance has our breaths mixing, and I can’t help but lean down to press my lips to the corner of his forehead. In the silence, all I could hear was our heartbeats and breaths, slowly accelerating together.

Victor, softly: Do not worry about me. I’d never let a fool worry.

MC: Ok, I know…

I responded softly to him, but I couldn’t hide my calm smile.

MC: ...I just can’t help it.

I can’t help worrying about you, whether you’re hungry, cold, or tired. I can’t help but want to see you whether you are in front of me or not. I can’t help but smile, only because of your figure in my mind.

I looked out at the clouds stretching out of the window, spreading out a large dim twilight, the stars looming, the golden sunset and the quiet night meeting at the end of the sky.

The sun is going down.

MC: Victor, I did not finish the interview before the sun set. Will you punish me?

Victor: ….

The only response to me is his even and steady breathing. I looked down at his sleeping face. This familiar face became thinner in just a few measly days. I reached out and stroked his cheek gently. But, still afraid of waking him, I just watched quietly.

MC: Go to bed.

MC: …..

MC: Sleep peacefully.

[thesinglesurgeon]

Feb 28: Hot Jon

What did this picture cost me? 

A 1.5 hour drive down the Long Island Expressway on a rainy Sunday night. I was blasting Bronze Whale, my latest favorite artist culled from this weeks Discover Weekly playlist on Spotify. I had to gently swerve to avoid the crater-like potholes left behind from all the snow plows, the snow still hadn’t melted and gray heaps of it dotted the banks of the road and the lawns seen from the highway. I had a coffee next to me with sugar free vanilla syrup added, a new thing I was trying. It was 5pm but I was post-call from a boring 24 at the VA, of course someone needed an emergent chest tube at 2am. My sleep was like it has been for months: in chunks punctuated by achey backs in hospital beds, the intern calling for help, bloody bowel movements the nurses saved for us to see, hiccups and nasogastric tubes, and sometimes a code blue page.

I finally found this guys apartment building and the parking garage right below it (he sent me a picture of it when I got closer for QuikPark). I walked outside of the parking garage just to take a picture of the city skyline in the rain. The fog and the colored lights during a rainy sunset were perfect. It quelled my nerves. A first date. 

We had talked on facetime before, something I had dreaded but did anyway with a full glass of wine (carefully out of view, sipping subtly to not appear like an alcoholic). He was handsome, with really good hair. I think he used to have a speech impediment, he had to slow down to talk to me. He seemed passionate about his job, whatever it was (I swear I tried to understand it). Something about business solutions and IT and team management. I laughed a lot, and I didn’t roll my eyes once. Right before we hung up he asked when I could come and see him. 

Here I was now cruising down the highway, the bass reverberating through my bones, feeling sultry, but tired. My tiredness lived in me now, had settled into my bones. I sipped the coffee, something I carefully matched it with water intake during the day. It felt like liters of coffee and liters of water. 

His apartment was hot, it was uncluttered. He had 2 pictures on the wall and a lamp that changed color when has asked Alexa to change it. His bathroom had toothpaste still stuck in the sink. But the toilet was clean, so was his shower when I peered around the curtain. The view was amazing (see above). He was wearing a t shirt and shorts and socks. I had spent hours getting ready, to be honest, to look like I was always this sleek and clear skinned. Poor women of the world.

He talked to me confidently after he made Mojitios using mint from his quarantine project indoor garden. He wasn’t scared of me. I made up an elaborate lie that i had to go at 7:30 to pick up my friend at Penn Station who had been in town enjoying tapas restaurants with her friends from med school and she didn’t want to take the train home since it took too long. I had her call me at 655 reminding she would be ready on time. God bless her.

So this guy sat on the couch at 7:15, said I could sit down too. I did, but I was at least six feet away, maybe quarantine habits had sunk in hard. Our fluid conversation became jagged, I knew what was happening. I asked if he was afraid of COVID, he said “not enough to stop from kissing you soon.” He actually said that. And he scooted over, across the distance I had placed and kind of pushed me down and took over me and touched my face and neck and it was a good make out session. But I designed this so I had to go. I had mentioned it one hundred times. And he stopped and lifted up his body and said to me “please let me go down on you, please? Please? I want twenty minutes.” 

Was I dreaming? And also, how did I say no? I could feel my hair pushed into twenty directions. I could fell my lips burning from being rubbed against his stubble. I could hear my ragged breath, but I said no, in as cute of a way as I could, I pretended I just really had to go. We kissed goodbye, but he had this look of fascination in his eyes, his facade had been broken. I like that look, but I also feel like I won too early.

I left the apartment, I felt neutral, not on a high or in a low. It was misting outside, I put up my hood and walked for a mile. I found a pizzeria. I ordered a Margherita slice at 8pm in the rain.  I stuffed napkins in my pocket and walked outside, unwrapping the pizza. I will eat pizza in the rain in the city because I don’t care. It’s a story, it’s romantic, it’s artistic. I saw the yellow-white lights in all the apartments, people in all of them, sitting around tables, one guy with a guitar. Interesting curtains, weird wall hangings. And the voice I fight now everyday was very loud in the rain in Long Island City on this Sunday while I ate melted cheesy pizza dappled by raindrops: I want to be an artist. 

I found the parking garage. My brown boots were wet, my toes were getting wet. I paid 21 dollars for parking. 4 dollars for pizza. 3 hours of driving. I listened to the entire Bronze Whale album twice. I wondered what I could do about new resolutions in March, did I need a self help book now, why was I turning down a man begging to go down on me, who lost all his composure because he wanted so badly to give me pleasure? Was something wrong with me? Also, why do men beg me lately to come over, come inside, have sex? What happened to mixed drinks at pricey restaurants and being nervous about kissing by a car before saying goodbye? Was this thirties-something dating, or New York dating, or was I giving off thirsty sex vibes that made them all beg?

I drove home, and fell into a perfect sleep with the comforting admission that I am just overwhelmed right now, maybe all the time, and the only thing I can do is take it day by day, moment by moment, tackle what scares me (in small measured bites). I texted my friends I had shared my location with informing them I was alive, don’t worry, we will analyze this all to death with wine next week.

[disconnected-from-reality]

Fanfic Rec: 00Q Part 3

It’s been more than a year! I have totally been procrastinating in doing this if I’m truly honest. A lot of things happened in my life as well! There are good and bad things, but what matters most is that I still have a number of fics to recommend for you! I haven’t stopped reading, don’t worry. 

Also I think it’s a good time to post my list. The next Bond movie has released its trailer and the 00Q crumbs we got from the trailer got a lot of shippers back on board. If you’re that person, you might want to check these fanfics out! 

To see the other parts, click here for part 1 and for part 2.

Let Love In by dhampir72  [Words: 21,437 | Teens and Up Audiences] They're still learning that love is more of a journey and less of a destination. [A series of interconnected vignettes].

Ulysses by girlbookwrm [Words: 89,065 | Teens and Up Audiences] “Paperwork for the new head of Q-Branch,” Tanner said. “Of course.” The words were like glass in his throat. Smoke inhalation was a bitch. His brain felt slow and foggy, like it was full of smoke too. “Who shall I take them to?” M lifted one white brow. “They’re for you, Quartermaster.” Bond and Q are drawn together by names, work, and a certain Aston Martin. In which Q is kidnapped once, Bond is poisoned twice, and Eve is a badass on at least three occasions. AKA that time I tripped and wrote 80,000 words of 00Q. All titles unapologetically stolen from Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

Espionage is a Family Affair by nagapdragon [Words: 78.403 | Mature] It's common knowledge that angels make good weapons and terrible soldiers. They're hard to kill, hard to catch, and leave a swathe of destruction wherever they go. That's why MI6 likes them. James Bond, Agent 007, is one of the most devastating weapons MI6 will admit to having. Explosions follow his every whim and he's nearly impossible to kill, despite the best efforts of terrorists worldwide. He's second only to the weapons MI6 pretends don't exist- archangels are only a theory, after all. Aren't they?

Bond to You by therunawaypen [Words: 5,749 | Mature] Bond isn't a name. It's a rare breed of people that have designated soulmates, to whom a Bond will be eternally faithful to. Every child dreams of being a Bond's Chosen soulmate. James uses his status as a Bond to seduce many a mark into thinking they're his Chosen, while deep down he resents his identity because he has been unable to find his Chosen. Then he meets Q that fateful day in front of that painting.

How Q Hacked Online Dating by JayPendragon [Words: 23,836 | Explicit] “How does that lead to…?” Eve waves her hand at the mess behind Q’s back. Q feels his expression morph into a sly grin. “I have a new plan. I’m going to stay on these dating platforms, but I’m going to treat them as databases. Rather than waiting for an algorithm to set me up, I'm going to try reverse-engineering this entire system.” In which Q works in the private sector, still winds up friends with Eve, and applies science to his love life. Obviously, Eve gets involved.

Leading Edge by Batsutousai  [Words:  7,251 | Teens and Up Audiences] All fae-born were raised on stories of how cruel dragon-borns were, how they had no care for anyone outside themselves and their greed, that they would sell their own mother's soul to the devil before allowing themselves to be hurt. They were told that all dragon-borns were to be killed on sight, and taught spells that would do just that, if ever given the chance. It would be just Q's luck that one of his agents was dragon-born.

Pen and Paper by Salios [Words:  5,300 | Teens and Up Audiences] Q wrung his hands anxiously, teeth gnawing at his lower lip. It was a bad habit, biting his lip, but he couldn’t help it when he was nervous. And he really did have reason to be nervous. Well, excited to the point of nearly crippling nervousness, actually. Today he’d finally get to meet his boyfriend of three years. For the first time ever.

people can surprise you (or not) by pdameron [Words: 10,538 | Teens and Up Audiences]   “I’m not you, Bond. I don’t exactly have a technique for getting rich strangers to like me.” “Just do your naive cute puppy thing, and they’ll be doting on you in no time,” Bond replies as he pulls up to the grand estate. “My what?” Q asks incredulously. Bond doesn’t answer, simply giving him an indulgent smile. The fucker. (or: 00q meets Gosford Park. Except not really.)

A Common Solution by SailorChibi  [Words:  17,654 | Teens and Up Audiences] Bond has been ignoring his biological needs. Boothroyd is retiring and MI6 is in need of a new Quartermaster. What do these two things have in common? They both have an easy solution... if only M can get Bond to extract a certain hacker  NOTE: This does not have the “James Bond/Q” tag, but I’ll add it in my list anyway.

Taken by Nana_41175 [Words: WIP | Explicit]    Or, the cheating fic that *nearly* is! Q is engaged to be married, but not to Bond. Excerpt: Bond blinked. “Boyfriend? What do you mean, boyfriend?” “I mean exactly that,” said Moneypenny. “Honestly, what’s the matter with you? Q’s been seeing someone for over a year. And if I’m not mistaken, Daniel is going to pop the question on him this evening. Dan asked me for advice on the ring, after all.” NOTE: This is currently a WIP fanfic, but it’s almost done with 2 chapters left to be posted. Would be a bummer if I don’t add it, right? 

His Keeper by Nana_41175 [Words:  45,482 | Explicit] Protecting the Quartermaster entails a special set of circumstances, and Q is the last one to know. Excerpt: “Your identity has been compromised,” M said as he leaned forward in his chair, his features grim even as his tone remained even and calm. “I am standing you down from all your duties in Q branch. Kindly hand in all personal computers and devices. I am placing you on administrative leave, effective immediately. You need to disappear for a while, Q, for your own safety. Think of this as the holiday you never had these past two years. We will get down to the bottom of this and repair the damage done; otherwise I shall have to ask you to step down. ”Q gaped at him, finally speechless. “At any rate, quartermasters are entitled to double-O agents as bodyguards, when the need arises, and he personally volunteered,” M continued as though he’d not just dropped the equivalent of a bomb and a death sentence through slow torture rolled into one, “and I do agree that under the circumstances, 007 would be the best choice as your bodyguard.”

Daddy and Uncle James by 1MissMolly [Words:  26,115 | Teens and Up Audiences] James Bond can remain cool and collected in the most trying of circumstances. He is an expert at hand to hand combat and marksman with numerous weapons. He can seduce any woman or man he chooses. He has the highest success rate at achieving his goals, and he has his sights on the young Quartermaster. The only thing standing in his way is the only thing that will surely defeat him. A six year old girl named Elizabeth Park. Bond's planned seduction of Q is interrupted by the arrival of Q's daughter, Lizzie.

Treason, Traitors, and Treachery by Kryptaria, zooeyscigar [Words:  63,230 | Mature] All James Bond wanted was a quiet holiday on his luxury motoryacht on the Costa del Sol. Time to recuperate and think about his future with MI6. But his plans get hijacked when a traitor to the crown returns, bringing news of an even greater threat to MI6. And the traitor isn't working alone.Thankfully, neither is James.

Playing the Part by ElektricAngel [Words: 23,116 | Teens and Up Audiences] James Bond comes into Q Branch after a mission with all of his equipment accounted for and in tact, and a complete mission report in Q's inbox. Q is pleasantly surprised and more than a little suspicious. Rightly so, as it happens, because Bond makes an unusual request of him. And yet, his license to kill is not the only thing that makes the man difficult to say no to...

Breathe With Me by Flantastic [Words: 7,575 | Explicit] When James Bond goes back to MI6 following his disastrous relationship with Dr Madeleine Swann, Q wants nothing to do with him. Then there's an accident in Q-Branch...

Bittersweet by dr_girlfriend [Words:  14,229 | Explicit] The first time Bond flirted with Q, it was purely out of self-defense. The second time Bond flirted with Q was largely manipulation. The third time Bond flirted with Q, he just wanted to feel something. The fourth time Bond flirted with Q was out of sheer boredom.Somehow, flirting with Q became something of a habit for Bond.And then, it became something else.

A Bond of Matrimony by enigma_kar [Words: 12,691 | Mature] The one where Bond’s next mission involves going undercover with Q. Includes: banter, fake marriage, espionage, car chases, life-or-death situations, and Moneypenny taking far too much delight in the whole affair.

as permanent as stone cathedrals by pdameron [Words: 6,002 | Teens and Up Audiences] Q has been in love for two years, six months, and twelve days when James Bond walks away, leaving him with a bleeding head and a broken heart on a dark and noisy London bridge.

just like old times (please don’t ever change) by Rosslyn  [Words:  5,173 | Teens and Up Audiences] Sometimes when Q is alone in his workshop and there is an experiment that needs to be supervised and he can’t go home and he can’t sleep, he watches Bond’s vitals.

How Much Love Can the Weight of Water Carry? by 00QEros (Dassandre) [Words: 39,549 | Explicit] Though Bond returned to MI6 after his ill advised jaunt around the globe with Madeleine Swann, Q still struggles with his own feelings for the agent in spite of the fact that Bond is clearly not the same man as the one who walked away from their friendship on Westminster Bridge. James regrets having left London and MI6, but it is nothing in comparison to the remorse he feels for abandoning Q. However, James has made repairing their friendship his primary goal in the hope of gaining something he never realised he needed as badly as he does. But Bond really hasn’t had a good time of it lately. Breaking his leg in a freak accident, James camps out at Q’s flat when the white-washed, soulless walls of Medical become too much for him to tolerate. Unfortunately, his leg is only the beginning of Bond’s health problems, and Q is conscripted into being James’ caretaker. Confined to the close quarters of Q’s flat, the Quartermaster finds himself opening back up to the agent, but will the two men find their way to one another as they should have done years ago, or is time no longer on their side?

So I guess that’s it for now! I still have a couple in my belt, but most of them are still WIP so I’d keep them for now. I’ll be adding them once they are finished. 

[bl--ankhaeji]

It all started with a washer(Taeyong)

Pairing - Fashion Design student*TaeyongXCeramics student*Reader

Genre - fluff, slight angst (if you blink it’s gone), slight enemies to lovers(again blink and you miss it), friends to lover, college au, tutor*Taeyong 

Warning/AN - learning disabilities and mentions of shitty parenting, also really abrupt ending cause I had no idea how to end so im sorreh (unedited not like any of my shit is though)

W.Count - 2253

The way you met Taeyong was pretty hectic 

It was 2 a.m. and you both were in the laundry room on the 4th floor of the apartment building

Surprisingly you two weren’t the only ones who needed a late night laundry run

That shit was PACKED 

Well as packed as a laundry room that only has three washers and three dryers can get 

You had to wait in a short line to be able to even get a washer even though all you had to wash were your clothes from the previous week

You had just enough washing powder left to wash the little clothes you had 

You really just wanted to do your laundry go back to your room open a bottle of cheap wine and drink away the pain you had from your Chemistry exam that you’re pretty sure you failed earlier that day or should you say yesterday

*Le Gasp* Finally a washer is open 

You rush to get there before it’s taken only to make there at the same time as some boy

You both immediately turn toward each other to look at the person who dared to steal the washer you so rightfully deserve

“This washer’s mine” 

“This is my washer” 

You both managed to say at the same time only to pull equally incredulous looks at each other

“I got here first” You both exclaim at the same time and that was like the spark that lit the fire

Not the love fire but like a hate fire lol

A stared down like no other between you two fighting for the washer soon commenced and it looked like neither of you were backing down

You both stood there and glared at each other’s face until a whole new washer became open 

The boy saw it and walked to go to that one instead of the one being stolen from him by some girl who looked about as ruff as his scalp is 

Please pray for TaeTae’s scalp...ok

Only for the washer to get taken by some kid 

His only choice was to go back to his old washer 

Once you saw the boy coming back you immediately closed the lid on the washer and turned to look at him with a humph 

“Too late this washer’s taken by its rightful owner”

If that didn’t irk him in the worst way then nothing did 

That slightly reminded him of his little brother’s annoying friend, what's his name...Doeyuck…

“Look ok I just need to wash my clothes so that I can go to my room and splurge on the possibly life threatening amount of sweets I just bought as a reward for passing my Chemistry exam. Can you please just let me share the washer with you?”

You started to consider letting him use the washer with you then you realize what he said….HE HAS SWEETS and he passed the chemistry exam, but HE HAS SWEETS 

“Ok, I’ll let you use it but only if I get to have my pick at two sweets or if it’s candy then one handful. Do we have a deal?” 

You could see the pout form on his lips only be offset by a slow nod of agreement to which you rejoiced with a quick Yes and opened the lid 

When the clothes finished you both realized that meant that you would also have to share a dryer to which you both looked at each other and raised your shoulders

Even though you both still weren’t on the best of terms you still tolerated each other for the sake of your clothing

Later that night after you have taken your pick of treats from the boy whose name you still didn’t know you retreated to you couch with your wine bottle in one hand and the tv remote in the other 

When it’s the next week and you’re in your Chemistry class your teacher passes out the tests 

To which you can see and confirm that you indeed did fail it

BADLY 

Your teacher asks you to stay back once class is over to discuss something with you 

She recommends you a tutor by the name of Lee Taeyong 

Says he has the highest grades in her class

At first you decline until she tells you that you might not be able to pass this semester if you don’t get help 

You begrudgingly agree to meet this tAeYoNg tomorrow in the upstairs private library room

The dreaded meetup is finally here and you walk into the room with anxiety threatening to bubble over to see 

“WASHER STEALING SWEETS BOY” 

You walk over to the startled boy and see that he has irritation written all over his face “Please don’t tell my you’re the girl I’m tutoring”

“Yup That’s Me”

He starts to regret his life choices and wonder ‘Why Me’ 

He gets started on the tutoring only to realize that you...really don't know anything 

If your lost look said anything 

“Do you even pay attention at all in class” 

“I mean I do but its it just it...I don’t know. This is stupid. I’m stupid. I don’t know why I agreed to this tutoring bullshit. I don’t need help.”

You hastily get up and leave feeling as if you just made a fool of yourself 

You walk into your apartment with fresh clay you just got from your class and go into your safe place

Your home pottery room

Preparing your space and getting everything ready you press play on your music, wet your hands, and start moulding the clay 

You’re pretty deep into what you’re doing to the point where you don’t hear the banging on your door 

Once you do it startles you and you almost mess up your creation 

You wash your hands and go to answer the door to see Taeyong 

He’s staring at you like something is wrong and you look down to see that you’re covered in both dry and wet clay 

“What do you want?”

“I’m here to ask why you walked out like that.” He says with a pretty serious look on his face 

“I already said it. I don’t need help, I can pass the class on my own.” 

He holds up your most recent test only to spread his fingers out and it's every test you've taken and you either failed it or were pretty close, “Does this look like you don’t need help.”

“You can’t help someone stupid Taeyong.”

With annoyance splayed on his face he steps into the apartment and sits his stuff on the couch

“Why do you think that?”

“Cause I am, now can you please leave I was doing something.”

He refuses to leave until you explain to him 

You think ‘Fuck It’ and you start to tell him 

You major in ceramics but there’s a special love for pottery 

It helps to calm your mind...you love it..you’re amazing at it  

But that was never enough for your parents who ridiculed and criticized you every chance they got 

You have both dyslexia and dyscalculia 

Your parents who were both renowned scientists couldn't believe they managed to birth a stupid baby 

The only way you were able to get into university was because of ceramics but your parents didn't care

To them you were still dumb no matter what

“So that’s why I’m stupid. There’s no use in trying to teach me, you would be wasting your time”

You looked to Taeyong thinking you would see a disgusted face but you only saw one of sympathy and determination

“I’ve taught someone with dyslexia before but not dyscalculia. I will not leave you behind because y/n you’re not stupid. Regardless of what your parents and others have told you.”

After that you didn't see him for a few days and then one night when you were about to head to bed 

BAMM 

There he was at your door looking like a lunatic 

“I’ve got it.”

After that you and TaeTae(that’s what you call him now) spent every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and sometimes Sunday together

And to say that spending that much time together didn’t have an affect on how you felt about each other would be a fucking lie 

Soon you started to anticipate the days you got to study with him or the time you two would pass each other in the halls 

It would make you feel giddy inside 

Like you were in a shaken up pop can and when you would see him you would combust

But would you ever tell him that. Fuck No  

Sometimes the studying would either take place at his or your apartment 

To say that after study sessions you wouldn’t sit and watch movies the rest of the night and slick(not slick) cuddle would also be a lie 

It’s to the point where you have clothes at each other’s house

You also may or may not have a key to each other’s apartment

Even though you both still irked the fuck out of each other sometimes this tutor and tutoree realtionship had transformed into somethin beautiful

It was getting close to your next Chemistry exam and you were stressing 

Soon enough you had two days to go and you were TERRIFIED 

Taeyong kept trying to tell you that you were gonna do fine but you didn’t believe him 

Your fears were coming back full force 

You had been doing good turning in little side assignments with no problem but this is your first test since tutoring and 

You really didn’t wanna let TaeTae down

“You won’t let me down. I promise”

“You don’t know that. Like I don’t know, I can know everything on there but when it’s in front of my face I just….blank and everything gets jumbled and I get confused and I just give up.”

“Look if you take the test and pass...I have a surprise for you, ok?”

“What surprise?” 

He just gets up and walks out of the apartment

It’s like the two days just flew by and next thing you know the test is right in front of you and you’re looking at it and 

YOU UNDERSTAND 

Even though you’re one of the last to finish you probably feel the most confident 

When you and Tae meet up the day after you guys are chillin in his apartment eating the food you just got delivered 

“Sooo since I'm close with our Chemistry teacher she let me see the grades before she put them out.”

“Really??!! What’d I make?”

“I’m sorry to tell you this…”

Taeyong was gonna pull a trick on you but seeing your face fall and the tears build up he couldn’t go through with it 

“Noo I’m just playing please don’t cry. You passed, you passed I promise.”

When you hear those words you immediately start to beat his ass..literally you start to spank him 

“Why would you do that to me. Do you know how sad I got, I almost cried!!”

He kept trying to apologize but you kept hitting him so he did something to stop you

He kissed you 

The feeling of Taeyong’s lips on yours was euphoric 

Even with the taste of the takeout on his lips his kiss was still intoxicating 

Luckily he pulled back before you could slip too far 

You unknowingly chased after his lips after he pulled away, wanting more

“I didn’t plan on saying it this way but yea that was the surprise. I like you y/n. I like you a lot.”

You took a good look at Taeyong’s face to see an unnoticeable blush spread across his cheeks

Que the Fangirl 

“AHHH you’re so cuteeee. I can finally say that now without feeling like I’ll make things awkward.”

Also que confused Tae 

“Wait so you like me too?”

Uhh duh 

So I was gonna stop here butttttt Why don’t I give yall a lil more fluff shall we 

Immediately start dating after the confession 

Istg you guys are the cutests little shits ever 

It’s disgusting 

Study dates [check]

Cuddle buddies[check] 

Hella pottery dates[FUCKIN CHECK]

You and Tae already stay up all hours of the damn night so why not teach him how to mould a little 

“Oooo are you gonna do the little backhug hand guiding thing they do in the movies.”*insert winky face* 

You do the making he does the designing 

Did I mention that he’s a fashion design major 

Him and his best friend Johnny revamp your entire wardrobe because and I quote ‘As the top fashion design student I will not be caught dead letting my girlfriend walk around looking anything less than Fabulous’ and ‘Who says you’re the top student but anyways you didn’t pass Johnny’s Fashion Evaluation...not my problem’

Oh and better believe he has the couples outfits on LOCK

“This passes the Evaluation”

He makes little cup holders and coasters for the cups you make

For your first christmas together Tae makes you a ceramic necklace with the date you guys started dating thanks to the help from your best friend Yuta who specializes in metal ceramics 

You knit him a scarf out of you guys favorite colors 

The blush you made cross his face when you wrapped it around his neck and used it to pull him into a kiss was totally worth the plenty times you caught a hand cramp trying to make that scarf 

“We’re under the mistletoe.” *insert smirky y/n*

AHHHH I can’t deal 

But yea that’s it for you and TaeTae’s relationship 

[excindrela]

If You Take a Demon to Thanksgiving... (18+)

Supernatural AU

Pairing: demon! Ayno (Noh YoonHo) VAV  x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff/ Humor and SMUT

Warnings: Explosions, Destruction, Unprotected sex (wrap it up people), foul language, use of the word “cock”

Word Count: 3277

AN: This is a continuation of Summoned so if you haven’t read that one, I recommend you read that one first! 

12 Days of Demon Ayno (Christmas) : Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9

Happy Thanksgiving!

In retrospect, taking the boyfriend you had only been with for a month to Thanksgiving probably wasn’t the best idea you’ve ever had. The fact that said boyfriend was also a demon that had been summoned specifically to fulfill your sexual fantasies, and your family was dysfunctional at best made the idea really really bad.

As distasteful as the idea of actually being human was to him, Ayno made a concerted effort to pretend to be one – to the best of his ability. As a demon, he didn’t need to sleep or eat or shower…or anything…he was just available 24 hrs a day to fulfill your every desire…and the fact that he always knew exactly what you desired- be it a cupcake or his cock- the moment you desired it, sometimes made things a bit complicated. Especially when it involved anyone but the two of you.

You had spent the week leading up to Thanksgiving explaining the holiday to Ayno, and going over a rather detailed chart you drew up of the part of your family you’d be visiting. He memorized the chart and asked questions about your step-father with his need to baby the dog and unhealthy addiction to reality TV, your mother’s obsession with decorating the house via Pinterest and her perpetually drunk brother, and your worthless step-brother (in the process learning what a “misdemeanor” and a “felony” were)…but really he just wanted to watch “A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving” over and over.

You arrived promptly at 11 for a 2pm “dinner” with the promise to Ayno that you’d leave as soon as the dishes were done.

You barged through the door of your childhood home loudly calling “Hi Mom!” as you headed straight for the kitchen. “Hi honey! Oh! …and who’s this?” she asked glancing speculatively at the handsome stranger lurking over your shoulder. “Mom, this is Ayno. My…boyfriend. Ayno, this is my Mom.”  “Hi” he greeted. Sticking to the plan of keeping things simple and saying as little as possible. “Hello Ayno. Welcome.” Your mom replied before turning to you and saying pointedly “I wasn’t aware you were dating anyone…” You shrugged. “Surprise? I have a…boyfriend.” You said unapologetically. “I’m going to show Ayno around.” You said as you dragged him away from your mother before she could start asking questions.

In the den, you found your step-dad, milk-toast aunt and alcoholic uncle watching the football pregame while drinking beer and eating chips & dip. They barely acknowledged your presence, and if they were surprised to see you with a six foot Asian man following you around, they didn’t show it.

You poked your head into the dining room and checked out the table, already resplendent with a lace table cloth, battery powered pillar candles, and a giant turkey shaped tureen in the center – despite the fact that no soup was set to be served.

The living room, you explained as you crossed through it, was for looks only. Touching- or worse, sitting on-  your mother’s special furniture or disturbing her artistically arranged designer throw pillows was not tolerated.

Large sliding glass doors in the living room led to the patio and backyard. The patio had been swept and there was a stack of plastic chairs and tables to be set up. Your step father’s adored mutt, Patches, came running right up to Ayno, putting his paws up on his leg, demanding ear scratches which the soft demon happily supplied.  “What is that?” Ayno asked, pointing to a metal cylinder sitting in the middle of the yard. You walked over and examined it. “I think it’s a deep fryer.” You said suspiciously. “I think my step dad and uncle are going to try to deep fry the turkey.” You shook your head- this seemed like a bad idea. “At least my mom is making a ham, so something will be edible.”

“What is that?” Ayno asked again, this time pointing to the large oak tree in the corner of the yard. You laughed, “That is my treehouse! It was my favorite escape as a kid. C’mon, I’ll show you.” A moment later you had dragged Ayno across the yard and were climbing up the rickety ladder with him. You shoved hard, and the hatch opened to reveal the small space that had seemed so big in childhood. It was covered in dust, and the walls still had faded posters from your pre-teen years. “I spent hours up here. It was my happy place. I always envisioned it as being an escape and a private place during my teen years…but…that’s not how things worked out.” Sensing your wistfulness, Ayno bent his head and kissed you sweetly.

The moment was interrupted by the sound of a car door signaling the arrival of your step-brother and voices in the yard. “Oh good! Ayno! C’mere & give us a hand with this.” Your step dad called as you descended the ladder. Ayno squeezed your hand reassuringly and went to help them.

The rest of the day proceeded like most awkward family events. Inappropriate and embarrassing stories were told, too many snacks and too much alcohol was consumed. Ayno stuck by you working in the kitchen, happy to do whatever was asked of him, and content to let you deflect conversation and answer questions about him. Eventually he felt comfortable enough to go sit on the patio with everyone and listen to your family’s chatter. Everyone seemed to think he was nice, if not a little odd.

You had serious doubts about the sanctity of the meal when your drunk uncle announced it was time to do the turkey, and came into the kitchen where you were assembling more snacks and yanked the still frozen fowl from the freezer and headed for the backyard.

In the next 3 minutes of your life events occurred simultaneously in what felt like slow motion.

“Will ya all jist shut the hell up? I know what I’m doin’!” your uncle said as he lowered the ice block of bird toward the overfull deep fryer. He released the clip and the turkey dropped like a bomb splashing into the vat and sending boiling oil flying into the air and cascading over the edges of the deep fryer straight into the flame below it. As soon as the frozen meat hit the scalding oil, everything exploded into a giant fireball raining hot flaming oil and chunks of turkey all over the dead un-mowed backyard, causing the whole thing to burst into 3 foot high flames.

The sound of the deep fryer being blown apart startled your mother so badly that she dropped the pan with the ham in it that she had just pulled out of the oven. The chunk of pork bounced out and the pan landed upside down in the middle of the kitchen floor, bubbling ham juice running out and turning the white tile brown. Something brushed passed your leg, and you looked down just in time to see Patches run into the kitchen making a beeline for the downed ham. Your mother saw it too, and she tried to run and grab the meat before the dog made off with the only (mostly) surviving entrée, forgetting about the bourbon and brown sugar grease lake that now coated the floor. You watched helplessly as her feet hit the grease and slipped right out from under her and she landed face down in the gooey puddle with a thunk on her right arm.

A blur out of your opposite eye diverted your attention back to the yard where your step-father was beating your slightly- on- fire uncle with a dry crispy chamois from the garage yelling “Roll, Duke, roll!!” He was distracted and missed the moment it became obvious that your step-brother had flunked high school chemistry class, because he turned the hose on to the raging grease fire turning it into what would later be known in your family as The Turkey Inferno.

You stood there, stupidly, as the mayhem raged around you, with a useless crudité platter in one hand and your forgotten cell phone in the other. You heard sirens in the distance, and hoped they were heading your way. And then, another sound: laughter. You looked over to see Ayno, laughing so hard he was crying, huge smile and face lit up, so delighted he was slumped back in the plastic lawn chair clapping his hands and his feet. “It looks just like the Seven Pools of the Damned!” he cried excitedly.

*          *          *

Two hours later, you were a hot, sweaty, filthy mess. After the fire department had arrived and hosed down the back yard in some kind of foam, and the ambulance had taken your mom and uncle to the hospital; you got to work cleaning up the kitchen, which was not only a disaster from the whirlwind of cooking, but now included the ham lake and burned sweet potatoes that had been forgotten in the oven. Ayno had helpfully begun un-setting the table and cleaning up the back patio.

Patches, having feasted on a whole ham and who knew what else, began throwing up and having explosive diarrhea all over the house. It was while cleaning up the 5th pile of puke that you discovered your good for nothing step-brother was sitting in the den watching football leaving you to do all the work. You handed him the paper towels and cleaning solution and told him to get off his lazy ass and clean up after the dog…he elected to go to the hospital to “check in on everyone”.

That was it. You were done. Everyone but you and Ayno had gone to the hospital, you hadn’t seen him for a while, and you weren’t sure where he was, and at the moment you didn’t actually care. You had a splitting headache and you were not doing this by yourself. You walked into the guest room and fell face down onto the bed.

You had no idea how long you had slept, but it was dark when you felt Ayno gently shake you awake. “No? Wha-“was all you got out before Ayno gave a soft “Shhhh” and placed his finger to your lips. He looped your arms around his neck and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he stood up, yanking the quilt off the bed and wrapping it around you as he carried you through the dark house and across the still smoking backyard. He walked straight to the treehouse, and climbed the rickety ladder with you still wrapped around him like a baby koala.

Now you knew where he’d gotten to. He had cleaned up the tree house, and covered the entire floor in pillows that he’d swiped from the house. He’d even grabbed the battery powered candles from the dinner table, so the whole thing was bathed in soft fake candlelight. He set you down in the pile of pillows and closed the hatch.

Without a word he pulled you onto his lap and began kissing you. Softly at first, his hands on the sides of your face, but becoming harder and more needy by the second as his fingers threaded through your hair and his tongue plundered your mouth. He broke away long enough to pull your sweater off over your head, before returning his lips to your now exposed neck. His mouth worked its way from your jawline to your shoulder in a long trail of wet kisses punctuated by gentle sucking and bites that were just harsh enough you knew they would leave marks. You were so distracted by his mouth that you almost missed his hands unfastening your bra and tossing it to the side. The cold air coming in contact with your fully exposed breasts caused them to immediately flush and harden. You reached down and grabbed Ayno’s sweater and turtleneck and yanked them both off of him at the same time, desperate to press your cold skin against his unnatural warmth. He obliged you, taking the opportunity to begin marking up your shoulder as he hiked your skirt up over your thighs letting it pool around your waist. His hand slipped down to begin rubbing your throbbing clit through your silky underwear. You moaned softly and pressed your mound harder against his hand. Ayno lifted your hips slightly and re-settled you on his right thigh. “Ride it”, he whispered. You nodded and began rolling your hips against the rough fabric of his jeans, trying desperately to satisfy the ache he had created in your core. You gasped as he took one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud, and then hollowing out his cheeks and sucking. You quickened your pace and trembled slightly at the friction. Breathy moans spilled from your lips as you felt your climax building and your thighs starting to shake. “Ayno…” you moaned, without slowing your pace, causing him to release your nipple with a lewd pop. “Ready to cum baby?” he asked rubbing your sides soothingly. You nodded and whined as your walls began clenching around nothing, feeling your wetness release and soak through Ayno’s pants to his skin. You dropped your head to his shoulder “Not enough, not enough…” you whined into his ear, “Fill me…please…” you begged. Ayno laid back into the pile of pillows unbuckling his belt so you could drag his pants to his ankles. You wasted no time pulling his boxer briefs down behind them, watching as his erect cock sprung free. You straddled his hips and he gently stroked himself a few times before holding it vertically so you could slide onto him. You moaned as you felt the tip of his length at your entrance, already so wet that you pushed him easily between your folds, until he was fully buried in you. Soft high pitched noises came from your mouth as you circled your hips feeling his slight movements deep within you as his fingers rubbed circles on your clit in time with your movements. Knowing you needed more, he lifted your hips up, and began jackhammering in and out of your sopping pussy from below. Every stroke the head of his cock pounded into your cervix, causing you to throw your head back and cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain. “Oh fuck yes! Don’t stop…” you gritted out through clenched teeth as your vision got hazy and your second orgasm hit you and you could swear the whole room was moving. Ayno released his grip on you and let you slide back down his shaft while he rolled his hips to let you come down from the high, but you still felt like you couldn’t get enough. You put your hands on the top of his pecs, fingers digging into his shoulders for leverage as you began lifting your hips up and slamming back into his harshly. The whole treehouse creaked and moaned with every thrust. “Not enough baby?” he asked breathlessly. “Noooo…” you moaned, “I just…I need…you feel so good…” you whined.

You thrust down hard and suddenly there was a loud crack. Not your imagination this time, the whole floor jolted down and tilted to the left. You froze. “Ayno…I think we have a problem…” He opened his mouth to reply when there was a loud snap and the entire floor detached with you and Ayno riding it like an elevator to hell, and went crashing to the ground below, pillows flying everywhere. Unable to be harmed by something as trivial as a six foot drop, Ayno wrapped himself protectively around you, holding your head to his chest and covering you with his arms.

Suddenly the still of the evening was split by the sounds of voices you knew all too well. “Oh my God!!” “What the shit was that?!” “Oh hell! The patio cover didn’t collapse did it?!” as the backyard floodlights came on and your family, having returned from the hospital unnoticed by you; came running across the yard to find you and Ayno, mostly naked, obviously in the middle of copulation, laying in the middle of the destroyed treehouse. You stared at them. They stared at you. Then it seemed your mother gathered her wits and took in the situation, a look of horror crossing her face as she screamed “OH MY GOD!! ARE THOSE MY CHENILLE THROW PILLOWS??? THOSE ARE POTTERY BARN!!” Ayno burst out laughing.

*          *          *

An hour after you got home you were feeling much better having showered off the horrific events of the day and slipped into your PJs. You found Ayno lounging on the couch in flannel pants and an oversize sweatshirt…hair having suddenly turned platinum blonde but his eyes still a deep chocolate brown according to your whims. He sat up just enough to grab you and pull you down to lay on top of him, wrapping his arms around you and giving you a quick kiss in the process.

“I have enjoyed this ‘Thanksgiving’. We should definitely participate in this more often. When is the next one?” Ayno asked happily.

“Sorry sweetheart. Thanksgiving is a once a year thing. There won’t be another one until November of next year.” you informed him.

“Very well. Then I will look forward to it.” he said with a smile.

“Ayno? You do understand that I mean 365 days from now?” you clarified.

He nodded. “I understand your measurements of time.” he said matter-of-factly.

You laid there stunned for a moment. Ayno was talking about a year from now…still being here a year from now. This was the first mention of anything long term, of some kind of permanence to the situation.

Ever attuned to you, Ayno looked you straight in the eyes and asked softly “Am I really your boyfriend?”

“Do you know what a boyfriend is?” you countered.

“Yes! ‘A male that is close to your heart. He is the one you can't stand to go a day without seeing. He provides everything you need, including sex, love, protection, comfort and an escape from the world. A lover who admires you for who you are. Knowing him makes you a better person. And being with him makes you smile.’”

Well. That was a startlingly accurate description. “Ayno, where did you hear that?”

“Urban Dictionary.”

“…and did Urban Dictionary tell you what a girlfriend is?”

“Uh-huh. ‘A female who you love, admire, respect, and desire to be with; a girl who makes you laugh, smile and who brings out the best in you, the one person that you should value over every other thing. You must protect her for she is the most special thing that could ever happen to you. She’s someone that you want to hug and kiss all the time and make love to, and is also able to bleed for a week without dying.’” He paused. “I find this description to be accurate of my feelings toward you...but I do not know if I meet the boyfriend requirements.”

You smiled down at him. “You more than meet them. Do you want to really want to be my boyfriend Ayno?”

He grinned. “Yes! In over 800 years I have never had a ‘girlfriend’. I promise I will take good care of you.”

“You already do.” You said as you snuggled into him and laid your head on his chest.

“So since I must wait for Thanksgiving again, is there another holiday that…how did your mother put it? We can ‘ruin forever’?” he asked hopefully.

“There’s a whole calendar full babe”, you laughed ruefully, “A whole calendar full.”

[grimmseye]

A Bird in the Hand: Chapter Two

Read on Ao3 here!

Rating: T

Fandom: Critical Role

Relationships: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Essek Thelyss, Mollymauk Tealeaf/Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast (eventual)

Chapter Characters: Mollymauk Tealeaf, Essek Thelyss

Chapter Tags/Warnings: Molly Rez, Amnesiac Mollymauk, Oh My God They Were Roommates, Nonsexual Nudity, Hair Brushing

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The chalk in his hand dragged smooth over the ground, leaving shimmering lines and rounds just above the surface they were marked against. Fifty gold pieces and a fifth level slot was entirely too much to make a trip home from within the city, but Mollymauk was in no condition to be walking there and Essek did not want to hire someone to take them.

The last line connected, the circle broke into solid, glowing violet. Essek stood and took Mollymauk by the wrist to pull him through. There was a sensation of dropping, falling forward and then being suddenly upright again and in another space, on the wooden floor of the small room he’d designated to his teleportation circle.

Molly staggered at his side, bracing one hand against the wall. “A little warning next time,” he breathed, shaking his head.

“My apologies,” Essek said, without remorse. “It can take some getting used to, if you haven’t done it before.”

Mollymauk only grumbled, taking a moment to catch his balance and his breath. Essek opened the door that lead out to a sitting room, designed for playing host to the formal gatherings his position sometimes sprang upon him. It connected from there to a dining room, and then a rarely-used kitchen. The dishes from Caduceus’ cooking remained, and abruptly Essek felt a warmth touch his cheeks. He was never messy, not where it could be seen, and yet Mollymauk’s first impression of him would be slobbish if the tiefling were to take just ten paces into the next room and peer through the entryway.

“You need a bedroom,” he declared, half a realization, half a distraction. Then he repeated, quieter, “You need a bedroom,” with all the weight such a statement carried.

He had bedrooms. They had never been used, but caution kept him prepared. Should he ever need to play host overnight, best to have something already in place rather than be caught off guard. Essek had not been off guard since he was a child learning his first spell.

Caught in his musings, Essek blinked and found Mollymauk startlingly close and staring up into his face. He drifted back on instinct, schooling his face into an affronted scowl. “Yes?” He said, pointed.

“Nothing,” Molly replied, eyebrows lifting. “You were just staring for a few seconds there, I was worried something came loose up top.” He tapped the side of his head twice and grinned. “So lemme ask you this, friend: how much of a guest versus a prisoner am I here?”

“You are not a prisoner,” Essek said, which wasn’t quite truthful. “For the time being, we want you under escort should you be outside of my property. This is standard procedure for released prisoners, even if I am vouching for you. It has the additional benefit of ensuring you won’t get lost.”

“Uh-huh,” Mollymauk nodded, his blasé tone of voice vexatious at best. “Lots of pretty words that translate to me still being a prisoner. I got that already, you don’t need to explain it again. I’m referring to my position within your property.” He paused, and then gave a slow smile that Essek couldn’t quite translate. “Am I your property?”

The meaning clicked into place. Essek’s ears folded back as he fought the urge to recoil. That look implied scandal, but mischief danced behind the eyes. Mollymauk was fucking with him.

He had certainly been a member of the Nein.

“No,” he said, his voice short and final. “You are free to explore anything within this house. There are towers outside which are designated to my own business, but you would be unable to enter them even if you should try. Please clean up any messes you make, and feel free to ask me any questions you may have.”

“Fantastic. So, first request: could I get a hairbrush?” Molly ran his fingers through his hair — or attempted to, at least. It was nearly matted. “I did end up losing mine on my way here, and then got arrested before I could purchase a new one.”

“Of course,” Essek nodded. After a beat, he realized he needed to show Mollymauk the way. “There is a guest bedroom — this way, upstairs — with a shower as well if you’d like to wash up.”

“Oh I would.”

“And I can clean whatever clothes you brought with you.”

“Excellent. I’ve only got two pairs. I’ll just leave this one outside the door then?” Molly motioned to himself. He wore traveler’s clothes, but even such sturdy material was wearing thin. Essek frowned, thinking of the other set he’d found, colorful and audacious and faring far worse. He would need new clothes, then. He would be needing many things.

That was what Essek pondered as he waited outside the bathroom door, until it cracked open for Molly to set his badly folded clothes out in the hall. He conjured an invisible servant to take care of the washing, and then immediately moved for the study to find a pen and a pad of paper.

Shopping List (Guest):

New clothes for Mollymauk

Make appointment

Ensure: warm/winter, rain, fine, sleep, and casual wear. Multiple pairs of shoes (hooves? Check this)

Groceries

Breakfasts:

Essek immediately paused. He could cook. He often chose not to. He certainly didn’t cook for other people.

Groceries — determine later

Luxuries? Ask Mollymauk his preferences.

Extra bedsets (2?)

He was going to be housing Mollymauk for the foreseeable future. He was going to have a full-time guest until the Nein returned, and last they left Xhorhas, they vanished without a trace for into a device named the Happy Fun Ball Slash The Archmage Bane and returned with their formerly-brainwashed friend. Essek was learning to expect the unexpected with that odd group.

Needless to say, he could not rely on an expedient return. So. A guest. Essek would need to entertain him. Ensure he was taken care of, and staying out of trouble. He would likely have to put aside his work to babysit this tiefling, who allegedly had amnesia and did not even know who the Nein truly were.

He didn’t realize he was wringing his hands until he felt the bite of his own nails. Essek took a breath. He could do this. He’d worn a facade since childhood, he could keep it up, full-time, in his own home, without breaks, indefinitely. Essek bowed his head and considered breaking into the fine wines.

The spiral was interrupted by the sound of clicking steps. Hooves, Mollymauk had hooves. Not all tieflings did.

Mollymauk was also naked in the doorway.

“How do you turn on the shower,” he asked, as Essek nearly threw his pen in his haste to turn away. He braced his elbow against the desk, a hand swinging up to shield his peripheral vision.

“You’re naked,” he stated, with false cheer.

Mollymauk clicked his tongue. “There weren’t any towels either.”

Essek very nearly slammed his head down into the desk. He stood up, unclasping his mantle in a rush and shifting towards Mollymauk to hold out the garment, waiting until he was certain through the corner of his eye that the tiefling was covered up to look at him. A dangerously polite smile was affixed to his face. “I will show you how to work the shower,” he said, ever helpful, ever calm.

“It’s appreciated.” Molly trotted back down the hall, somehow perfectly unbothered that Essek had seen exactly how far those tattoos reached. His ears flickered madly with the tiefling’s gaze off of him, trying to bat the embarrassed heat away.

It was a little gratifying when Molly nearly tripped on the length of his mantle.

Essek wrestled himself back into composure before he moved ahead, showing Mollymauk the individual crystals embedded in his shower wall and how they worked. “The large gemstone in the center here turns it on. Press it once for the faucet,” he demonstrated, a stream of water pouring out from the lower faucet at his touch. “And again for the shower. The one beneath it turns the water off. Here, this crystal is for temperature —”

It was all relatively simple. The crystal turned in place, its color flowing through a gradient of blue to purple to red depending on the water’s temperature. Even with the simplicity of the system, he was pleased to turn around and find Mollymauk wide-eyed and beaming up at him, tail curling with excitement.

“I could kiss you,” he declared. “You, sir, have just given me the greatest of gifts. I mean, there’s room for improvement. If you happen to have something more in the line of a spa, please let me know what I need to do to get that, but this? This will do just fine!”

Essek did, in fact, have something akin to a spa, but it was connected to his bedroom, and he was not about to offer up that space. “I am pleased that it’s to your liking,” he smiled. Then, serious again, “Please just leave my clothes outside the door, after I have left. I will bring a towel and a robe for you. Before I leave, is there anything else?”

Mollymauk poked his head into the shower with a hum. “Soap, shampoo, conditioner, check check and check. I am golden, my friend. You’re free to go.”

Thank the Luxon, Essek didn’t say, only dipping his head to drift back out of the bathroom. He stalled his servant from its task to bring a towel and robe up, returning to his study. Once he tackled a grocery list, he could hire someone to collect it all for him.

Essek found his statuette of an ivory raven, running a finger down its beak to bring it into flesh and feathers. It stood, attentive as he cleared his throat and dictated: “Seamstress Brirr, this is Shadowhand Essek Thelyss. I need to commission a full wardrobe for a guest, a tiefling. Do you have a slot tomorrow?”

Once the message was given and the recipient described, the bird took wing through a window and out into the city.

Down the hall, Essek heard the pattering of water stop. The door opened some minutes later, the sound of hooves announcing Molly wherever he went. At least Essek knew he could find him.

There was a short knock at the doorway. Essek turned, not without trepidation, and nearly sagged with relief to find Mollymauk wrapped in his robe, hair bound in a towel. “That was wonderful,” Mollymauk sighed, leaning against the frame. “I would have stayed longer but my hair is unforgivable.”

“A hairbrush,” Essek remembered, nodding. “Of course, let me get that for you. Just, ah, make yourself comfortable.” He’d evidently forgotten to stock the guest chambers properly. Embarrassment seized him again, something he tried to shake off with the reminder that at least it wasn’t Kryn nobility he was scorning. It could be far worse.

When he returned from his own quarters, Mollymauk had indeed made himself quite comfortable. He was sprawled in one of the armchairs, his robe falling open around the scarred chest, modesty protected by the tie that bound it shut. Molly’s eyes flicked up to him from where he’d been idly examining the bookcase, and he sat up with a grin. “Excellent, thank you,” he said, lifting both arms to curl his fingers in a way that said gimme.

Did Essek catch a wince, there? He frowned, noting that along with the scars there were fresh bruises on Mollymauk’s chest, creeping under the sleeve of his robe. As Molly began to pull his hair over one shoulder, there was a definite tension that pulled into his shoulders. His tail lay perfectly still, betraying nothing — and its quiet said far more about Mollymauk’s current state than if it had been lashing.

“You’re staring again,” Molly pointed out lightly. This time, Essek didn’t back down.

“You’re hurt,” he returned.

Molly widened his eyes in mock surprise, mouth opening as he breathed, “No, really?” He smirked at Essek’s flat expression. “Your friends were a bit rough with me. It wasn’t like they just frogmarched me to your prison, no, they had to get a good beating in first. Your little trick in the cell certainly didn’t help.” He snorted.

Essek’s ears folded down. He grimaced to himself, a pang of not guilt so much as regret needling at him. The Nein would not be happy with him. As much as they seemed willing to beat each other up, the moment another person laid a hand on them they were staring down a pack of snarling Moorbounders.

On an impulse, maybe pity, maybe a distant hope that Molly just won’t tell, Essek extended a hand. Molly furrowed his brow, slowly offering the hairbrush. With then, Essek dragged a footrest over with a beckoning motion, patting it and saying, “Sit here. Back to the chair, please.”

“You mind explaining?” Molly asked, but did as he was told. Essek took the seat he’d just occupied, frowning at the mess of hair. He’d once worn his own long, when he was younger. It had just been a very long time since he’d had to do more than tidy it upon waking.

Essek scooped a section of hair to his back again, holding it as he began to work the brush through the tips. Molly’s tail flicked, sitting up straight for a moment before the tension loosed from his shoulders. “Oh so you do know how to treat a guest right,” he purred.

“Was I treating you wrong before?” Essek demanded. He got to the first matted section, glad that Molly had wet his hair before this as he began to tease it apart with quick motions of the brush. “For the sake of my sanity, let’s judge my service as a host only from the point where you entered the property.”

“Wise decision,” Molly drawled. “... Mmmm, but for the most part I was only fucking with you. And believe me, with this all previous criticisms have been rescinded.”

“I would still like to know the criticisms,” Essek muttered, and only got a breathy laugh in response.

It was slow going, working through each mass of tangles without ripping his hair. It needed to be trimmed as well, uneven and broken at the tips. A shower had done him well, but a single wash hadn’t been enough to undo neglecting it for so long, oil still streaking the roots of his hair as Essek ran the brush through them. Mollymauk tipped his head into it, an angle were Essek could see his face, eyes shut and lips parted.

“Do you prefer your hair loose?” Essek asked, setting the brush down. He took up his notepad again, adding haircut to the list.

Mollymauk hummed as he ran his fingers through it. “I think so. Let’s try it. Where’s the rest of my stuff, by the way?”

As Essek halted his servant’s work again to bring Molly’s belongings up, he laid out tomorrow’s itinerary. The raven returned, delivering Brirr’s response. They would get Mollymauk’s measurements taken care of, purchase some sets of casual clothing until the new outfits were finished, visit a place to get Mollymauk a haircut.

The bag was brought up partway through the conversation. Molly frowned, his hands pausing as he dug through it. Tarnished jewelry, a pouch of incense, a brooch depicting a draconic god. He produced a rusted metal helmet that made Essek blurt out, “Why do you have that?” and Molly tip his head back, shrug his shoulders, and say, “I have no fucking idea.”

His snickering nearly made Essek join in, smiling faintly at this… bemusing creature. He knew very little of this person from the Nein’s brief allusions to him. Assuming he was even the same person, memories of his companions gone but still understanding facts of the world. Had Mollymauk Tealeaf been this to them, someone who could make you bristle as easily as laugh, a disarming union between sincerity and utter bullshit.

He was frowning, now, staring at the emptied bag and all the little trinkets he’d removed from it. Essek cleared his throat, asked, “Is something missing?”

“My scimitars,” Mollymauk said, immediately. Tiefling ears weren’t as expressive as elven, but they flexed backwards in a familiar manner. “I was buried with two scimitars, I had them when I was arrested, and now I don’t have them.” His tail curled and then lashed to the other side of his body, the spaded tip brandished like a knife.

Essek made a private note: inquire about Mollymauk apparently waking up in his grave. He was beginning to understand now why the Nein connected talk of the Beacons to this person.

“What if we do this,” he started, weighing his chin on his fist. “I will drop you off at a local spa tomorrow, and while you get cleaned up, I can return to the Shadowspire to reclaim your weapons.” And examine them for any odd enchantments.

Molly turned his head back, an odd sort of smile on his face. “That will do,” he said, simply. Then he rose to his feet, stretching, and turned to fully face Essek. “Now then. Why don’t you show me to my bedroom, good sir. You would think after waking in the dirt I’d be done with sleeping.”

“A bed is superior to a grave, I would think,” Essek murmured, standing with him. “Not that I have the experience to compare.”

Mollymauk barked out a laugh. Essek showed him to one of the spare bedrooms, promising to have his clothes clean and dry by morning. As he was turning to move back down the corridor, hoping to get some work done before settling down for his own meditation, he was stopped by a touch to his arm.

Essek shifted away from it, finding Mollymauk’s hand outstretched. He was still smiling, a softer thing now that it was weighed with exhaustion. “Thank you,” Molly said, emphasizing each word. Then he shut the door.

Essek stared at it for a long moment before nodding to himself. He drew a deep breath, moving down the hallway and outside, towards his laboratory. As much as Caleb and Nott assured him the mishap had been a result of a curse, Essek wasn’t satisfied. Perhaps he could find a way to make the spell dig deeper.

And perhaps he could take a breath and prepare himself for his next day playing host to Mollymauk Tealeaf.

[melikeylikeyjimin]

Noir || One

(I don’t own this gif)

Word Count: 1.9k

Genre: Mafia AU! Sugar Daddy AU! Jungkook X Reader, fluff, angst.

Warnings: none yet

A/N: Hello! I’m here with the first chapter of my new series, Noir! I hope you enjoy it and look forward to the next chapters! If you’d like to be tagged whenever I post a new chapter of Noir, please DM me or leave a comment on this post! Thank you to anyone who I asked to read this before I posted it, I’m really grateful for your feedback on it!

Next Chapter ||

“When looking at these designs, you should be able to determine how the shadows of the piece create movement within the image.” Sitting with my head resting on the palm of my hand, the professor continues to talk about how each artist uses different forms of techniques to make movement throughout a painting.

The class drones on for what feels like forever. I don’t necessarily care for finding the deeper meaning in art, but art compositions is a required class. Not sure how art would help me in my future of being a doctor and helping others, but requirements are requirements. With the bell ringing, sighs erupted throughout the room as people heave their backpacks over their shoulders and leave the room.

Groaning I force myself up and walk towards the door. “Y/N!” Someone calls out my name and my head turns towards the origin of the voice. There stands Nicci, flailing around as she tried to get through the crowd of other students.

“Jesus, it never gets easier to get through these halls no matter what time of day,” she complains.

“Well, it doesn’t help that there happens to be a lot of art majors at our college, so the building is always filled.”

Her arm immediately intertwines with mine as she starts dragging me away from my classroom, “So, have you heard the tea?” As soon as I heard the word tea my attention was on Nicci. I didn’t live a very drama filled life so hearing other people’s drama was stimulating to me.

“Well, I heard from Katrina who heard from Joe who also heard fro-”

I cut her off, “Okay, I don’t need to know all the different people that know, just spill.”

“Well, you know that one girl from the business department Eunji?”

“Yeah, I share an economics class with her, why?” “Well, I heard she got some nasty STD from this guy she slept with!”

I wrinkled my nose at her words, “She didn’t use a condom or anything?”

“Apparently not.” I sighed, but what did I really expect, it’s college.

I felt an arm drape over my shoulder as the said person pulled me closer to them. “What inappropriate things are you telling my poor baby this time, Nicci?”

“Oh stop babying her Dylan, she’s an adult, not a kid! She knows what sex is!”

Dylan gasped as he covered my ears, “We don’t say that word around her!”

Nicci rolled her eyes and I moved to grab Dylan’s hands from my ears, “She’s right though, I’m not a baby.”

He rolled his eyes as he moved to grab my hand, “I should limit the time she gets to spend with you, she’ll corrupt you.”

Nicci glared at him, “It’s called having fun, you should try getting laid sometime.” Dylan and she argued back and forth as they usually did over me. I used to try to get them to calm down, but after many failed attempts I stopped trying and let them work it out. They reminded me of an old married couple who would squabble over the littlest of things but still made up in the end.

Dylan was and always has been protective of me since I got to know him. Nicci was the first friend I ever made here at college so she and I did almost everything together when it came to new experiences.

Having watched them argue for the past three minutes, I decided I’d step in as it was taking longer than normal to simmer down. I grabbed Dylan’s hand as he was usually easier to pacify, “Dylan, you said you were going to take me out for lunch, why don’t we go? You guys can continue your argument some other time, but I’m hungry.”

He sighed as his eyes softened and he nodded, “Alright, let’s go.”

Nicci scoffed, “Of course he’s a big softy for you…” Dylan gave her a hard glare as she walked away.

“Text me,” I shouted after her. She put an ‘okay’ sign up and maneuvered her way through the sea of people.

“Lunch?” I asked.

“Lunch,” Dylan confirmed.

After arriving at the fast food restaurant, Dylan went up and ordered the food as I sat at the table and waited for him to come back. I scrolled through my phone to quench my boredom and looked at some of my social media feed. Seeing nothing interesting, I locked my phone and put it face down on the table and watched as Dylan filled our drinks and was grabbing all the food. He walked back to the table and set the food and drink I ordered in front of me.

“You know you didn’t have to pay for my lunch, right? I could have paid.”

“You already have enough to worry about between tuition, rent, and feeding yourself, me buying you one meal won’t kill me.”

“Still, I feel bad…”

“Just eat.” I dropped the topic and took a sip of my drink.

“Are you free tonight?” He asked between bites of food.

I tilted my head, “Why?”

“Do you want to have a movie night, it could just be the two of us or we could see about inviting Nicci or Jisoo.”

“Hmm, I would love to but I work tonight.”

He gave a slight pout, “You always work.”

I smiled and pat his hand, “Gotta make money somehow.”

“Are you sure you’re doing okay? You’re able to manage work and school? Are you sleeping well? Are you still getting some free time?” Dylan fired question after question at me.

“You worry too much, Dylan. Of course, I’m okay. I don’t work myself to death, I promise I sleep well and I have free time.”

“Well, you just do so much that you worry me, Y/N.”

“I really do promise that I’m okay, Dylan. You’re just overly paranoid.”

“You would tell me if you needed anything, right?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” We continued to eat in silence but it wasn’t awkward or anything. I crumpled up the wrapper that my food came in as I continued to just sip on my drink until Dylan finished his food. “What time do you work?”

“Three,” I answered.

“I’ll drive you.” I nodded. I normally would argue with him but I felt like we had done enough arguing over me as it was. I went and threw our trash away as he waited for me. We walked out of the door and walked to his car.

Sitting inside, he started up the car and pulled out of the parking lot. “Are you sure you can’t just call in?”

“I really need the money, Dylan. I promise we can some other time.”

He sighed, “Alright, alright, I’ll get off your back about it. But I’ll definitely hold you to that.”

An eight-hour shift was never something I enjoyed. Working at a cafe til almost midnight was also frightening. Walking outside at night as a woman was something that always spiked my anxiety.

Today’s work was slow. Normally there was a rush hour between six and seven but tonight, there was hardly anyone there. “Did you wipe down the tables?” My manager yells from the back room.

“Not yet! I’ll do that after I finish cleaning the counters!”

“Okay!” My manager and I were closing tonight and I just couldn’t wait to go home and lay in bed and watch some tv. I thought about taking a bath to relax since tomorrow was Friday and we didn’t have school on Fridays, but I think I’d pass out in the bathtub if I tried. I finished wiping the counters with the old tattered rag and moved to wipe down the tables as well. I was hoping that after I finished wiping the tables that Jennie would let me go home and she would lock up.

Almost as if my prayers were answered I heard Jennie shout again from the back room, “Good work today! Once you finish the tables you can go ahead and go home!”

“Okay, thank you!” I finished up and put the rag back in the sink where it would be cleaned by the morning crew. Luckily I had the next two days off so I could take it easy. “I’m leaving now!”

“Okay, love, be careful on your way home, I know it’s late.” I grabbed my stuff and walked out the front door, letting it jingle signaling I had left. My apartment wasn’t too far away from where I worked so it would be a short ten-minute walk to get there. I hated walking out here late at night, but I worked so I had to. With my hands in my pockets, I began to fast walk my way home. The sooner I got there, the safer I would be.

The silence from around me was deafening. There were no cars on the roads and the only sound was my shoes hitting the pavement. The streetlights that illuminated the sidewalk were dim and in need of new lights. I sighed as I hugged my jacket to my body. Whenever I walked home late at night, I would keep my phone open on this alert app that Dylan made sure I always had. If I hit a single button the authorities would be called to my location in case anything happened. Nicci always complained whenever he talked to me about it because she thought it was over the top and too much. I agreed that it was a bit over the top but I also don’t really want to say that and then have something bad happen to me and not be able to get help, so I use it.

I was two minutes from my apartment when I heard a scuffling sound of a can being kicked. I felt my heart stop for a second before it started to beat even more heavily against my chest. I held my phone close to me and made sure my finger would hover over the emergency button.

I wanted to look behind me so badly, but I knew I shouldn’t. I heard the sound again and I went completely rigid. I couldn’t help myself. I looked behind me and didn’t see anything. It wasn’t until I looked down around my feet and saw a cat. It’s fur colored noir and it’s green eyes watching me carefully. I let out a sigh of relief realizing that it was only a cat and not someone else. I let my finger leave the button and I huffed as I continued my walk home.

I walked up the stairs to my door and pulled my keys out, unlocking the door and letting myself in. Finally feeling safe, I slid down the door and let myself relax. After a bit, I moved and locked the door, checking twice to be safe.

Pulling my shoes off my feet, I set them by the door and walk through to my living room. With a groan, I let my body sink into the couch and I pull out my phone to make sure I text Dylan. He asked me to text him every time I leave work and when I get back to my apartment when I have a later shift. Hearing the little ping noise of it sending, I let my phone fall to the floor. I felt too lazy to move from where I was so I decided, might as well sleep on the couch tonight. Turning the tv on to a random channel, I let my eyes droop. Within a few minutes, my eyes close entirely and I fall asleep with the tv playing in the background.