#saw a video just earlier and thought 'oh this fits' and did not think twice to start working on this shitpost

[hdra77]

MERRY CHRISTMAS!! i speedran this while struggling not to fall asleep and explode from a headache!! got a little too silly last night

[illfoandillfie]

I don’t know if you’re still doing asks for the advent calendar. But just wondering if you could do a Ben x Reader x Present!Roger, where Ben and reader are the subs for Rog and he is hard!dom and they’re getting punished but at the end it’s super fluffy with my fav poly relationship. Idk if this makes since and I hope you could be comfortable with writing this! Btw love your writing! ❤️❤️

Oh i absolutely love this prompt and honestly i can’t think of a better way to end this thing than with a rog x ben threesome!!

Warnings: smut, spanking, edging/orgasm denial, sir kink, dom! rog, sub! ben, sub! reader, collars, a tiny bit of hair pulling, overstimulation, minor mentions of oral sex (m and f receiving), there’s also a bit where rog steps on reader, also its like 4k lmao

Blurb Advent: Day 25

It had been natural to let Roger take the lead, so to speak, in your relationship. Even in the early days, there’d never really been a question about you submitting to Roger. For one thing, you trended towards submissive anyway but something about Roger, the way he carried himself, automatically made you want to kneel before him. Age probably had something to do with it too. There was a perceived expertise because he was older (and as he frequently joked, wiser too), that had you agreeing to call him Sir and to follow his instructions, even within the first few weeks of getting together. Normally you’d wait a while before jumping into anything especially kinky with someone new, and to be fair he hadn’t rushed into bringing out the harder stuff, but it was almost shameful how fast you’d let him toy with you, agreeing to wear a collar to symbolise your submission. You’d well and truly established your dom/sub relationship before you’d agreed to consider each other boyfriend and girlfriend, (His age may have been a hinderance there, the word boyfriend not often associated with someone like him) so when Ben first met you, he assumed something entirely different. Roger had invited him around for dinner, with the added intention of being able to talk drums for as long as they wanted. Ben had shook your hand and made a comment that implied he thought you were Roger’s niece or grand daughter or something along those lines and before you’d been able to correct him he was caught up in a discussion with Roger about one of the songs he had to play in the movie. You left them too it, shrugging Ben’s assumption off. If you were going to date a man in his seventies then you had to be prepared for people to think you were connected by blood or else that you were in it for the money. Neither was true but it’s what people would think and there was no reason to get upset about it. Ben’s impression was re-evaluated later that day when he’d wandered away from the drum kit to find Roger and walked in on him giving you a quick edge. As soon as he realised Ben was there Roger apologised.

“Oh, that’s um, no, uh, no need for that,” Ben stuttered out, “I just thought, but, uh, I was obviously wrong,”

“Family or sugar baby?” Roger asked curiously.

“Family. Then sugar baby when I saw your hand up her skirt.” Ben seemed to realise what he’d said, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“She’s my girlfriend actually,” Roger turned his head to smile at you, “I would have said so but we’ve really only just started telling people so it kind of slipped my mind that I could,”

“No worries, um, I’ll leave you to it and just go try out that bit on the drums again.” Ben turned and walked back down the hallway as quickly as he could, Roger chuckling softly as he kissed the top of your head.

“How would you feel if I invited Ben to have sex with us?” he asked suddenly.

“What?”

“I’m not saying I definitely will but…he’s been looking at you a lot this afternoon. I figured he was probably trying to work out who you were to me but if he assumed family he might have been checking you out.”

“You think?” you asked, trying to keep your tone level. Ben was fit and you wouldn’t have minded him making a pass at you, even if you’d had to turn him down.

“I’ll keep an eye on him, see if I can work it out, but would you be okay with that? If he joined us?”

“That sounds kind of fun,”

“Alright then, I’ll feel him out and see if I can’t convince him to stay the night.”

 Over the course of the afternoon and evening Roger used every trick in his book to determine Ben’s attraction to you, and if he’d be interested in a threeway, steadily getting less and less subtle. By the time dinner had been eaten just about all delicacy was out the window.

“Look, sorry again about earlier,” Roger said, passing Ben a scotch and soda, “I’ve been edging Y/N a bit today because I’m planning on fucking her rotten tonight and I want her dripping wet and ready to beg for it,”

You weren’t sure whether you or Ben was more embarrassed by that but Roger didn’t seem to notice.

“Not that I really need too because she’s got, well let’s call it a very healthy sex drive. Edging her keeps her in her place and makes sure she knows I’m the one who controls if and when she gets an orgasm, but honestly she’s ready to go whenever I ask. I could tell her to strip right now and she would.”

“Is that right?” Ben said despite himself. His eyes darted about the room, not knowing where to look, but his tone was curious.

“She’s very obedient. If you wanted I could tell her to suck you off and it would take literally two seconds for her to be on her knees.”

Ben audibly gulped, his face beyond pink.

“Should I tell her to do that Ben?”

“Umm,”

“I think she’d like it if you joined us tonight. She does think you’re fit.”

“J-joi-join you?”

“We can set up one of the spare rooms for you if you want to stay. I might even see about lending her to you for the night.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, hypothetically, if you did stay, we’d share her for a bit, make up for all those edges I gave her. Then afterwards you could take her off to another bed and have her as many times as you wanted while I got a good nights sleep. Twice this week she’s wanted me in the middle of the night, it’d be nice to let someone else deal with her instead. Of course, there would be a few ground rules but they’re easy enough.”

“Like what?”

“Oh well, you can take her raw if you like but we’d prefer you not to finish in her cunt. Anywhere else is fine though. Obviously safewords are a must and limits have to be respected, hers, yours and mine. And you do need to understand that I’m in charge. She submits to me, she calls me Sir and she wears a collar for me. We both enjoy it, we both get off on it, and we expect anyone who joins us to understand that.”

“I understand,” Ben nodded.

“Does that mean you want to stay?”

“Yes.”

Roger had grinned and turned to you, “Well, why don’t you give our guest a proper welcome.”

 Ben fit in better than you might have assumed he would. It had been natural for you to submit and apparently Ben felt the same. That first night he constantly looked to Roger for guidance and permission, not wanting to overstep any boundaries or do something that would bring the night to an end. As you’d sucked Ben’s cock Roger had commanded you both, telling you when to deepthroat him and when to come up for air, telling him to grab your hair or push you down further. After that he’d suggested Ben repay you and walked him through edging you with just his fingers, teaching him the signs of your impending orgasm so he could stop it at the last second. And when you did finally make it to the bedroom, he’d told you both how to position yourselves, giving instructions and making demands as you’d been filled by both of them. Ben joined you in calling Roger Sir, giving up control as fully as you did. When Roger suggested edging Ben himself, Ben didn’t object. He dropped his eyes and bit his lip and whined prettily as Roger stroked his cock carefully, always stopping short. Afterwards he’d been rewarded, as Roger had promised he would be, with you as company in his bed. Mostly you’d stayed up talking, Ben curiously asking questions about your relationship with Roger and how it had come about. He was most intrigued by the dominant and submissive dynamics, how it worked and how you’d felt adding an extra person to it. Of course, you’d made sure it wasn’t all talk. Ben was hot and Roger expected him to fuck you so there was no harm in it. Besides, you knew Roger would call you a good girl if you were obedient and took Ben however he wanted. Ben seemed to like that aspect of your reasoning too. He didn’t want to disappoint Roger by not using you and the chance of being called a good boy for it was motivation enough.

 You’d expected it to be a one night thing but a couple of weeks later Roger had extended Ben another invitation to dinner. Things went in much the same direction, only Ben had fallen asleep in the bed you shared with Roger rather than taking a spare for himself and the next morning had offered a repeat performance of the night before. It was the same the next time Ben came for dinner and the time after that. On the sixth time you all gave up the pretext of dinner. Ben arrived earlier in the afternoon and Roger greeted him with the order to strip, which he did without question. The next morning Roger, pleased with Ben, made a suggestion that it become more official, and offered him a collar identical to yours.

“You can say no, of course,”

Ben hadn’t even hesitated before he picked up the collar and fitted it around his throat. You’d helped him with the clasp at a look from Roger who’d then ordered you both to suck him off. From then on it became a much more regular thing. For the most part both you and Ben would submit to Roger, gradually showing Ben harder things like spankings and restraints and all the fun stuff. Sometimes Roger would just sit back and watch Ben have his way with you and sometimes he’d disappear with Ben while you were busy or not in the mood. When Roger was called overseas unexpectedly Ben stayed with you. Roger asked for photos and videos and you delighted in sending him pictures of hickeys and scratches you gave each other as well as videos of each of you edging or Ben’s cock sliding in and out of your cunt, your moans in the background. Of course, the shifts in your sexual relationships also impacted your non-sexual relationships. Ben was important to you and Roger. He wasn’t just someone you hooked up with, he was part of things. When you redecorated the kitchen, Ben helped pick out the colours and when Roger wanted someone to listen to the first demo of a new song he’d written, Ben was there to give feedback. He was an extra shoulder to lean on, an extra pair of hands when there was chores to be done, and extra person to spend time with. But even with all the changes, your sexual dynamic remained the same. Roger was in charge. And that was how he liked it. Especially when he got to punish one or both of you.

Not that his punishments were ever really punishments. Once he’d come home from a weekend trip, expecting a clean house only to find the kitchen covered in rubbish and dirty dishes while you and Ben giggled away under the covers upstairs. He’d got very stern and made you both write lines. I will complete my chores before I have sex one hundred times each. But for the most part his punishments were actually fun, if a little painful. Spanking and orgasm denial and bondage, things that you could get off on, and always for small misdemeanours like poking your tongue out at him or going over an edge before you had permission. Because you and Ben enjoyed giving up control so much, your slight bratty tendencies generally just signalled a desire to be pushed or for something a little harder than what he was giving you. When one of you acted out without involving the other he’d let them help with the punishment, giving you both an outlet for any of your slightly more dominant inclinations. But more often than not you’d wind up being punished together.

On one such occasion, you and Ben had started teasingly referring to Roger as Mr Softie within his hearing after he’d dripped ice cream on his shirt. He’d smiled and laughed along but that evening he’d got back at you, using your collars to chain you to the desk in his office, your hands bound in cuffs in front of you. For a while he left you there, just out of reach of each other, wondering what he had in store. The silence was broken every so often by one of you making a quiet suggestion as to what he might do to you or wondering when he’d return, the anticipation building with each passing minute. Your heart pounded in your chest but you only grew wetter as you were forced to wait and Ben seemed to be in a similar predicament, his pants getting steadily tighter. Finally, Roger returned, ignoring you as he placed a paddle and a vibrator down on the desk you were tied to. Without acknowledging you he unclasped Ben’s collar, giving it a tug to make Ben crawl toward the couch set up at the other end of the room.

“Sir?” Ben asked as he reached the couch, looking up at Roger from his place on the floor.

“Up on the couch. Face down. Now.”

Ben jumped to follow the direction, settling with his face pressed against one cushion, his knees resting on the other, and his hips as high in the air as he could comfortably manage.

“Right,” Roger said, turning back to the desk and continuing to ignore you, “It seems you need to be taught a lesson about respect. And I think the fastest way to teach you is to spank your arse raw. Maybe a few days of not being able to sit down will be a strong enough reminder that I own you and you will respect me.” As he talked, Roger retrieved the paddle and tapped it against his hand, just loud enough that Ben could hear, his whimpers rising as he waited for the first strike. You watched as Roger stalked towards Ben, raised his arm and brought it down hard on Ben’s arse, the shocked cry that escaped Ben almost enough to have you whining yourself. Roger didn’t pause, just lay three or four hits on Ben, each one hard enough that Ben tried to wriggle away and the sound cut through the mostly quiet room. Suddenly Roger reached for Ben’s cock, stroking his already hard member before laying another few spanks on him. Ben made a mixture of sounds, some of pain and some of pleasure but all of them egged Roger on as he edged Ben and turned his arse a dappled purple wherever the paddle struck.

“How does that feel slut? Does it hurt?” Roger’s tone shifted to one of mock whining and back in a matter of seconds, “that whore’s going to be in for it too since it was her idea to disrespect me.”

Ben howled as another few spanks hit him, tears getting lost in the cushion of the couch, but you could see how his hips jolted with every light touch to his dick and how he twitched when Roger retracted his hand.

You’d lost count of how many edges and spanks Ben had received by the time Roger hooked two fingers into the collar, using his grip to pull Ben up higher, “Do you think you’ve learnt your lesson or should I keep teaching you?”

Ben shook his head, eyes still watery and voice more of a sob, “no more, please, I understand,”

“I’m very happy to hear that. Do you think you should be allowed to cum now?”

“Yes please Sir,”

“Yeah? You think I should stop being mean and wank you off already?”

Ben nodded.

“Okay then Benny. But only if she manages to hold out.”

Ben whimpered but nodded, falling to his side.

Roger gently stroked his fingers through Ben’s with a few quiet words of praise before he turned to you. Just like with Ben, Roger unchained you and then made you crawl to the couch. It was awkward with your arms bound but you didn’t dare sit up straighter to walk on your knees, that would only leader to a harder punishment. When you reached the couch Roger stopped you, telling you to turn around and get into the same position Ben had been in, your face against the carpet and your arse in the air. The only difference was that you remained on the floor, your arse facing Ben. The first spank took you by surprise. You’d been so concerned with your position and wondering how closely Ben was watching that you’d forgotten what was coming. It was followed by another three in rapid fire, the paddle thwacking you with such force that you jolted forward each time.

“You’re in trouble Benny,” Roger said, bending slightly to drag his fingers along your cunt, “She’s already soaked. Don’t know she’ll last.”

You whined and squirmed as his fingers traced over you and then yelled when he hit you again. There was no pattern to his punishment, try as you might to find one. He gave you two hits and then pressed his fingers into you, fucking you with them for a moment, and then another five hits, his fingertips lightly rubbing your clit, another two spanks, a spank to your cunt, another three to your arse, and then his fingers again. But there was no way to tell how many spanks you’d endure before he edged you or even how he’d touch you, whether he’d twist his fingers inside you or circle your clit.

“Finger her for me,” Roger said and you heard Ben wince as he stood and knelt behind you. You heard Roger walk away as Ben sank his fingers into you. He slowly pulled them out and pushed them back in, wanting to do as he’d been told, but not wanting to accidentally push you over the edge lest he not get his own orgasm. That was until Roger, over his shoulder, told Ben to do it properly or be spanked again. After that Ben was merciless, shoving a third fingers into you and roughly pounding his them as deep as he could go.

“That’s better,” Roger said when he returned to your side, “make the whore pay for getting you into trouble.”

You cried out and tried to wriggle away as another spank came down on you, but it was impossible to escape with Ben’s fingers hooked in your cunt and your bound hands. All the same Roger placed one of his feet on the side of your head, holding you down against the carpet as he whacked you again and again, ignoring your screams and the tears soaking the carpet. He stopped and you breathed a sigh of relief but it was short lived as a buzzing noise filled the room and you remembered the toy he’d brought in with the paddle.

 There was no way to suppress your moan as Roger held the vibrator against your clit, warning you not to cum. He held it there for a matter of seconds and then pulled it away again. Ben’s fingers left you a second later and then you were being tugged up by your collar again, the thick leather band pressing into your throat.

“On the couch, whore.”

“Yes, Sir,” you managed to sob as a few more tears rolled down your cheeks.

Once you were on the couch, positioned the same way you had been on the floor, Ben was handed the vibrator.

“Against her clit, highest setting. Don’t move it until I tell you.”

You whimpered, knowing there was no way you could hold back an orgasm with that kind of stimulation. But that didn’t seem to matter to Roger. He expected you to hold it, reminding you that you didn’t have permission in low growl as he spanked you on the back of your thigh. Your arse tingled all over, stinging twice as much whenever he hit you again but it was nothing to the sensation of the vibrator against your clit.

“I’m close,” you whined before another cry was ripped from you as Roger spanked the back of your other thigh.

“Don’t move it slut. The whore needs to fucking hold it.”

You tried but it was no use, there was nothing you could think of, nothing you could do, that could keep you from disobeying. You moaned as the orgasm rolled through you and heard Roger drop the paddle.

“Don’t move it Ben,” Roger growled as he stalked around to your head, pulling it up by the hair, “I thought I told you to hold it whore,”

“I’m sorry, Sir,” you half yelled, whining as the vibrator kept buzzing against your clit.

“You will be.”

You lost sight of Roger as he shoved you back down and walked away.

“Guess we have our answer Ben. Since the whore couldn’t stop herself from cumming, you won’t be allowed to.”

“No, Sir, please, I really need to,”

“That was our deal though slut.”

“Sir,”

“Don’t argue, it’ll just make things worse for you. And don’t move that vibrator.”

Ben fell silent, though a few whimpers escaped him as he pressed the vibrator against you harder.

You were expecting another series of spanks, so when you heard the small jingle sound of Roger removing his belt you cringed away, assuming that was what he was going to hit you with. But instead of the swishing sound it made before a strike, it was followed by the sound of a zip. Roger grabbed your hips and pulled them around so he could press his cock into you. By now the vibrator against your clit felt painful, the overstimulation enough to make you sob but the feeling was only amplified by Roger fucking you hard, his jeans rubbing against your arse since he hadn’t bothered to push them down. You squealed and sobbed as he used your cunt, the vibrator torturing your sensitive clit and making you cry into the couch cushion. Roger just grunted about how tight you were and how your sobs just turned him on more, until finally he came deep inside you. Only after he pulled out did he take the vibrator from Ben, shushing you when you sobbed out a thank you. He stood behind you until he saw his cum dribble out of you and then pulled Ben up by the collar and told him to clean you up. There were footsteps as he left the room but neither of you dared disobey so Ben continued to spread your lips with his thumbs and lick along your slit, pulling a soft moan from you. Roger returned with a warm damp cloth and told Ben to stop. He swiped the cloth over your thighs and up along your lips, gently cleaning off whatever Ben had missed. When he was satisfied he asked you to move over and sat down in the centre of the couch.

“You did so well, Y/N,” he said softly, letting you rest your head in his lap and smoothing back your hair with his palm, “Do you wanna come up here Ben?”

Ben nodded and gingerly knelt on Roger’s other side, too sore to sit properly.

“You were such a good boy Ben, and I’m so proud of you for holding out,” he said as he lay the damp cloth flat against his hand and then reached for Ben’s dick, using the cloth to wank him, “You can cum now.”

Ben panted out a thank you, his voice falling into a moan as he finally got what he’d needed for so long. You watched through tired eyes as Roger’s fist pumped over Ben’s length until his hips stuttered and he moaned with his release. Roger kept praising him until he was completely spent, using the cloth to gather the evidence of the orgasm. It was thrown to the floor and Roger carefully unfastened Ben’s collar, leaning in to give him a soft kiss on the lips and whisper that he loved him. He wrapped his arm around Ben and let him settle on his chest.

“Y/N, love, can you sit up for me?”

You nodded and slowly pushed yourself up, feeling a little dazed.

Roger gently removed your collar and kissed you too, taking an extra moment to cup your cheek, his thumb wiping away the last of your tears, and remind you how good you were and how much he loved you before he let you settle in his lap again. He knew he’d have to move you both eventually. There were ice packs and aloe downstairs in the kitchen that would help with your bruised arses and he’d have to make sure you both ate something and drank some water before you went to sleep. But Roger was happy just to sit there for a while to comfort and cuddle the two people he loved most.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 9

First

Previous

Next

Chat laid back in his bed but, for once, he wasn’t tired.

He was set to go on patrols that night, so he’d pretty much done everything he’d wanted for the day earlier. He’d gotten all his sleep, watched every video, finished his skin and hair care routines…

Only to find out that, hey, he didn't actually need to do that because Hawkmoth had chosen today to akumatize someone.

So patrols were out of the question. Hawkmoth had a recharge time of a few hours it seemed, but he usually didn’t do multiple akumas on the same day. They were always less powerful when he did too many in quick succession.

Well, at least he could go fight the akuma, right?

Wrong.

Because it was quickly brought to his attention that he actually couldn’t go, because the akuma was Mr. Pigeon and he quite famously had a bird allergy.

So the three women had all headed out (Carapace had stayed behind to finish an essay) and Chat had been left behind.

He scrolled through TikTok for a while. The app was definitely watching him, because almost all the content on his For You Page was animal videos…

Not that he minded.

But he could only handle so much cuteness at once, so that only worked for a few minutes.

Next, he went on Twitter to see what everyone was currently arguing about. That was bound to be entertaining…

Unfortunately, it seemed everyone in Paris was more concerned with the akuma than anything else at the moment. He didn’t need action shots of his housemates or to know more about Mr. Pigeon’s new plan to take the birds to space or whatever so he can… feed them? What?

The only other notable app on his phone was Instagram, but he wasn’t about to go on that. He was supposed to be in Tibet at some fancy private school, if people saw he was active he’d have to come up with answers to the millions of questions he’d inevitably get.

Now what…?

He pushed himself up to a sitting position with minimal groaning and attempted to run a hand down his face despite his mask.

Screw it. He was bored. He’d go bother Carapace.

He shuffled two doors down. He knocked twice…

There was a scrambling sound before he got a yell to come in.

When Chat actually did so, he found Carapace fastening his mask to his face. He was sitting at his desk, the area around him littered with crumpled pieces of paper.

“Salut?”

Chat batted away some with his feet as he made his way towards Carapace. “Salut. Chloe would kill you if she saw how much paper you’re wasting.”

“Paper is biodegradable, isn’t it?” Said Carapace with a slight grin.

“True.”

“... is there a reason you’re here?”

Chat didn’t answer, instead he slung himself over Carapace’s lap and laid there like a giant housecat. Which he pretty much was.

Carapace wasn’t even all that surprised.

All of the miraculous holders were well aware that the miraculous had side effects for them. They seemed to have attributed his constant need to be in contact with others as one of the side effects.

Chat knew that wasn’t the case, he was just Like That, but who was he to tell them they were wrong?

Carapace reached down and gave his hair a tiny ruffle and then went back to work.

Chat pulled out his phone again and started scrolling idly through Twitter for something to do (also he was kind of curious about the space pigeons now). The sound of Carapace’s pencil on the paper and his tiny sighs and curses were the only noises in the room for a while…

His eyes slid over the room. The bed looked untouched, there were a few empty energy drink cans strewn about, but other than that...

“So, wait, is homework literally all you do when you’re in here?”

“It’s all I have energy for outside of working out and patrols most days. Why?”

Chat rolled over to look up at him. “It’s just… you’re so…” He tried to think of a way to phrase it nicely, but when he couldn’t he settled for: “boring…?”

Carapace frowned a little. “And you’re so annoying!”

Chat flinched. As most people do when someone insults them.

His face softened and he groaned a little. “... sorry. That wasn’t… I’m just a little stressed out about school. This paper is due at midnight and I don’t know what to write.” He cracked a half smile and motioned to all the wads of paper. “As you might have been able to tell.”

He relaxed as well. “Yeah. I hear school is stressful.”

“You hear…?”

He hesitated. They were supposed to keep most things about their lives as civilians a secret, but… there was no way he could figure out who he was from this piece of information, so: “I was homeschooled.”

Carapace raised his eyebrows, thought about it, then nodded. “That makes sense.”

“Huh?”

“You have sheltered rich kid vibes.”

“... thanks?”

“No problem,” he responded easily. He set his pencil down and stretched as much as he could with someone still laying across his lap. “So. You had to have had a good education. Have any tips for my essay?”

Chat yawned and closed his eyes. “Depends. What’s the subject?”

“Film history.”

“... I don’t know anything about that, I don’t think, sorry. Ladybug or Rena might, ask them when they get back.”

Carapace laughed a little. “I don’t need information, if I did at least then I could just look it up, I just don’t know how to… write?”

He blinked his eyes open and then looked at him. “I can help if you just need to get your thoughts in order.”

“Really?” Said Carapace, his face lighting up.

Chat groaned a little as he stretched out. “Sure. Let me get a whiteboard.”

“We have paper…?” He said, watching his housemate get up and start walking out of the room.

“Shhhh, it’s for the aesthetic.”

Chat walked to the fridge and grabbed the whiteboard and markers from it.

He took a quick picture of the board so he could put everything back on it when he was done. Rena had apparently been doing some calculations on it. He remembered, vaguely, that she had mentioned calculating Hawkmoth’s height…

Holy crap. That’s tall. Sure, Hawkmoth was tall, but was he really THAT tall?

He shook his head slightly and erased, then returned to Carapace’s room. He smiled as he held them up for him to see.

“Tada.”

“So… what are we doing?”

“You --” Chat pointed a marker at him. “-- are going to talk about everything you know on the subject. I --” He pointed at himself. “-- am going to put everything in categories and we can go from there.”

Chat very quickly discovered why he was having so much trouble getting anything down. Carapace was… let’s call it ‘passionate’. The moment he started speaking his words tumbled out so quickly that Chat had had to scramble to pull the cap off of the marker so he could start sorting.

But, really, it always is nice to hear someone ramble about something they’re passionate about. Chat had to fight an urge to just watch and listen to Carapace as he talked about how ‘absolutely insane the textbook is for not going that much into eastern theater when there’s so much to talk about about kabuki theater alone --.’

Two hours and many struggles to fit so much information into such a compact space later, Carapace had run out of things to talk about.

“... is there a page limit?” Said Chat as he tossed over a water.

Carapace caught it without even really looking and took a few sips before speaking again: “Uh… yeah. Five pages max. That’s… my main problem.”

Chat looked at the board. What was on there alone was probably two pages in itself and that was just the general names of the topics…

He tipped his head from side to side and then circled a part of it. “Behold. That’s probably around four, and then you can do a bit of extra plus an introduction and conclusion.”

Carapace looked like he was going to cry.

“Are you… okay?”

He sniffled and wiped his eyes. “Where have you been all my life?”

“Uh… being homeschooled?”

“Oh. Right.”

Chat slung himself over Carapace’s lap again as he got to work. He scrolled through his phone for a while.

He jumped a little when he got a text. Still not used to that.

He opened the message.

Ladybug: We’ve washed off and changed clothes so your allergies won’t be irritated. Heading home now.

Kittychat: Thanks :D

He got left on read by three people, but that’s fine.

“They’re on their way back.”

Carapace grinned. “Wow, they beat Mr. Pigeon? Shocker!”

When Chat laughed a little, Carapace’s grin got a little more mischievous.

“Seriously, though, imagine losing to Mr. Pigeon. Couldn’t be me.”

“I am allERGIC --!”

He was cut off by Carapace’s laughter and, after a moment, he joined in.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence…

Then Chat got an idea. A small smirk made its way onto his face.

“You said that your account was going to be showing the world that we’re all normal people under the masks, right?”

“Among other things…?”

“Want to mess with the others and get some footage?”

“You complete me. C’mon.”

Carapace snatched his phone off his desk and they headed down to the living room to prepare.

~~~

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@nathleigh @mialuvscats @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen @woe-is-me0

[lavenderbexlatte]

Hello!!! Welcome to 🦋 anon's probably-way-too-overthought analysis on the m&m series in light of the new part. I have stopped crying and had about 24 hours to think, and I have discovered I have many thoughts, and this will probably be way more detailed than it should be.

The first thing I would like to address are some of the accusations Chan made at the end of the most recent part. (While I understand that they're supposed to not quite be accurate because of their obvious root in insecurity, and a lot of what I'm saying may just be like "yeah, obviously," I still would like to tell at the character a bit but I can't so this is what I have.)

Claim #1: "You fucking came at us at that party with your little girl-dom agenda and the guys fell for it, hook line sinker!"

This one's fairly self explanatory, no she didn't. They literally came onto her, even him, with his "There’s that pretty blush," and "Whatever you want it to be," lines. (And while yes, it's very likely that he was just trying to play it cool, but there's no way she could've known that, I'll come back to this later.)

Claim #2: "Nobody fucking asked me what I wanted!" "Nobody asked if I was sure that I wanted…"

Also mostly false, but he does have a tiny bit of a point. Yes, reader did grab his hair without asking, which is a little iffy, but she didn't actually rough with him until he goads her on. But I would argue that the reader is actually the ONLY one who asks him what he wants, if he's okay with things. While there may have been a little bit of discussion on the decision to approach the reader that we didn't see because of perspective (him saying this is kind of telling me that there wasn't, or at the very least not enough, maybe even some pressure for this to be the moment), or maybe Changbin said something while reader is with Jisung on the couch, after that, we don't see Jisung and Changbin check in with him at ALL, and there's not really an opportunity any other time for it just not have been noticed by the reader. As his partners, and the ones in the situation who have the full knowledge of Chan's situation, it should've been their responsibility to make sure he was alright throughout the process, even if they're not the ones in control for this situation, ESPECIALLY if they're going to keep this information from their Domme for the night (which really, I would say, wasn't a good idea, but no one is required to out themselves so I'll leave it alone).

HOWEVER, the reader does check with him, several times. She asks for boundaries/hard limits/etc before they even start anything, and while again, he's not required to say "hey, having a sexuality crisis, first time with a girl, kinda nervous," and he may not want to tip off Jisung and Changbin that something's wrong, that would be the time to say something like "I'm not feeling anything rough tonight, if you could be gentler that would be great." She asks them if there's anyone that doesn't actually want to fuck her. Also, she implements a safeword system (which she specifically calls him out to make sure he's okay with), which they weren't even going to USE, and asks them at least twice throughout the scene for their color, and Chan specifically if he's okay at least two more times besides that. Actually Chan almost makes fun of her for asking so many questions, so I think this claim is just another part of his insecurity-fed delusion that she's conspiring to ruin his life, or something, but again I'll come back to that. My point is that despite being the only one who doesn't know his situation, reader is also the only one who checks in with him.

There are a few other things he said that I took issue with, but those are the main two.

Next; Chan's delusion that reader is like conspiring to ruin his life. (Really like how you depicted this by the way, though I may be thinking wayyy too far into this.) I remember watching some video when I had one of my mental health/disorders hyperfixations. The video was about schizophrenia, and while I definitely don't think Chan has schizophrenia, one of the things the video talked about was types of delusions, and this kind of reminded me of one of them. I don't remember what it's called, but it's basically a delusion based around one idea, and then you force the world around you to fit into that idea. One example of this that I can think of is Azula from ATLA. Towards the end of her arc in the TV series, she starts seeing hallucinating her mother everywhere, and you get a peek of her fixed belief that her mother is behind everything that has gone wrong in her life, which is expanded upon a little bit in the books. Obviously Chan's not experiencing delusion to the extent that she did, but I did see some (albeit much less intense) parallels that were interesting. See, if he only talked about how his boyfriends seemed to like the reader more than him, that would be one thing, but he brings up his mother as well, which even though they did speak, it's a little out there to say that your mother likes someone she's talked to once more than you. That, combined with his insisting that the reader is playing some sort of game makes me think of that a little.

Of course this was only at first, when I was like "wtf, where is this 'my boyfriends like you more than me' thing coming from?" And then I reread the first few parts for this monstrosity of an ask that I'm writing rn. While at first I thought that this was entirely out of left field, when I read through the first few parts, especially the second one, with the knowledge that he felt that way, I noticed a few things you had put in there.

For the majority of the scene, or at least the first good chunk, the reader deals with Jisung and Changbin alone, leaving Chan by himself to watch. Obviously, as we see the reader's perspective, we know that it's because she found Chan's attitude intriguing and wanted to be able to deal with that one on one (at least that's what I got from it), it's easy to see now how to someone who's already insecure about their relationship and themselves, that would read as someone replacing you. Especially when Jisung, with no ill intent, but still, outright rejects his help in favour of the reader, and once again, he is left out, only this time it's accompanied with the sting of knowing (or at least feeling) that your partner didn't want you involved.

Now I kinda want to go character by character, and idk, talk about what I think they did wrong? We'll see, I'm not going to edit this so here we go.

Jisung and Changbin : Honestly, looking back on 3racha's first encounter with the reader, they really should have done better as Chan's partners. Like I said earlier, as the ones who knew Chan's situation, and the ones who likely pressured him slightly into he whole ordeal, it was really their responsibility to make sure Chan was okay with everything that was going on. That, and them feeling the need to sneak around with reader behind Chan's back doesn't sit right with me. I get that they have an open relationship, but there's a difference between having an open relationship and hooking up with someone your partner doesn't like, and actively trying to hide that you're hooking up with them. Their relationship boundaries may be fine with that, but idk, something feels off about it.

(I couldn't figure out where to put this and you may have already addressed this but it's my little theory/headcanon that Chan actually suspected it was reader at Jisung's place, and when there wasn't anyone there, he kinda gaslighted himself afterwards, idk. With the new knowledge it feels likely.)

Also, knowing that they were together for a while before Chan joined the relationship I think explains so much about the communication issues they seem to have with him. While I do think Chan has trouble communicating his feelings about things, I think their established communication and knowing eachother really well doesn't help. I may just be making things up at this point, but I feel like they have trouble with communication with Chan specifically, maybe forgetting that he doesn't have the same time/experience thy have with each other? If that makes sense?

Chan : oh boy. I've gone into a lot of detail already, so I'll try to keep this brief. Obviously, I think he has a looooottt of insecurity he needs to work through. If I were reallllyyy analyzing this I would say maybe a past cheating partner(?), but unless that's relevant to the plot I'm not sure if that's just me reading too much into this. Also mentioned before, COMMUNICATION ISSUES. One thing that would prevent half of the issues with this series is Chan communicating with his partners, though I suppose that wouldn't be near as much fun to read. Or just communicating I'm general, like I said, he had a plethora of opportunities to communicate to reader if he wanted something different, and didn't. So, yeah. Honestly I think he causes most of his own problems, but I feel like we knew that.

Reader : Now. I spent most of this series completely on the reader's side. Last night after reading part six, I was like "oh my god. He's right!" But then I took a while and thought a lot about it (as you can see), and honestly, I think reader probably did the least wrong out of everyone. Yes, the hair thing was a little iffy, like I said earlier, but once I went back and realized that he was actively participating and egging her on, I don't think that's necessarily something she did wrong. Beyond that, she did the most in regards of communication (at least during sex, after is another story), even more than the partners themselves. I think she did the best she could with the information that was given to her. She saw three guys approach her as a unit, and while yes, she didn't ask before engaging with Chan, I don't think it's really her fault for assuming that they were all interested as a unit as well. She had no reason to question any of their sexualities, why would she? She sees three partners approach her in unison, why wouldn't she assume they were on the same page? Anyway, all that to say, I think reader is the most innocent of all the main characters so far, though I may feel different after sitting on this for more time.

Anyway, here's this unedited brain dump, loved the new part, enjoy. Or not ig - 🦋

i've been sitting on this for like a week bc it's just so long and amazing??? and i have no idea what to say?? 🥺🥺

the bit about chan having a sort of delusion that reader is out to ruin his life in a pointed, conspired way is VERY interesting. their dynamic is actually something that i pulled from myself, in a way. i'm really superstitious about dumb things. i hate, like, bumping into someone or accidentally saying something that hurts someone's feelings bc i know that that karma/vibe/intention (whatever you wanna call it, i'm not spiritual just paranoid) is gonna come back around.

reader is the opposite. she's just walking around doing things and thinking about herself, and then being shocked when there are equal and opposite reactions to the stuff she does. i overthink everything, so reader doesn't think nearly enough.

but lemme say

that the best thing you said is how jisung and changbin are absolutely not the innocent bystanders that everyone seems to think they are 🤐🤐 most readers LOVE those two. but think about it...what are they trying to accomplish, here? 👀

[cryptidsandcatacombs]

Hey! For the prompt meme, How about some “I know that you love me, but your jealousy is getting out of hand.” for L please! Only if you want to!

Uhuh this my shit This is an L x Reader so this should be fun~<3 I might be channeling my s/i's story into this but

Summary: Reader has been L's assistant for quite some time. They care about each other mutually during the ample time they've been around each other. L is usually good about keeping it subtle and under wraps but something happens that makes him mcfucking lose it. Rating: Pretty adult stuff here. NSFW. No one under the age of 18 may read. Sexual content is contained in this fic.

The evening had droned on with the hours wasting away unknown to L. He's never been one to keep track of the time that well. Once he's into his work, he ignores he forgoes a decent sleep schedule and what could be considered an actual substantial meal for coffee with an embarrassing amount of caffeine and sugar and what could be considered enough candy and pastries to give a horse diabetes. However, this has changed since y/n came along. It isn't that Watari didn't keep L in line when it comes to his diet. Watari has learned how stubborn L can be in the middle of an important case and getting L to do anything is like pulling teeth. But, there was something about y/n that made L listen and made L want to take care of himself a bit better. Watari definitely regards y/n as a miracle worker of sorts. Even L has to admit he has gotten a soft spot for y/n. Something he hasn't felt for anyone in a very, very long time. However, L has to admit his little soft spot has manifested into something of the more romantic variety. He can't help but see them and try his hardest to sound impressive. The blind man has no idea y/n already finds everything about him impressive. The hour was late however and y/n was nowhere to be seen. They had informed him that they had an engagement that evening. Didn't say what though. "Hey y/n, would you come here pl--," he said looking over to find y/n wasn't there. L was so used to having y/n around that he had forgot about this little detail. "Oh yeah, that's right," L mumbled to himself. One of the members of the latest task force he had been working with came over to L's side. "Sir, maybe you didn't know, but y/n has evening plans with a Mr. Enji Tanakada. I figure they have might informed you." "Enji Tanakada..why does that name sound familiar," L mumbled to himself quickly typing away at his computer. L froze when he saw the name come up. The case L had been working on was of the international sex trafficking variety. Dozens upon dozens of people of every gender had gone missing and it linked back to a company L had been tracking. They seemed legit on the surface, but the CEO, Renji Hiroto, had a dark side to him. Enji Tanakada was a certain Hiroto-san's close personal assistant in what L suspected was all matters including the illicit and illegal ones. "Son of a bitch y/n," L growled. He tightened his jaw in frustration. "Of all the stupid, reckless things you could have done." "Sir, I apologize I didn't tell you earlier. They had informed me that you were told and you had given them the approval," the task member had stated flustered and nervous fearing L's current state. "Well, next time inform me will you. Don't make a dumb mistake like that again," said L being snappy. He wasn't ok in this state of mind and any form or reasoning escaped him. "Now, did they tell you where they were going off to," L inquired. "I had overheard a phone coversation y/n was having that lead me to ask about the engagement. Some sort of hotel. Very high end. They both wanted to keep this under wraps," the task member said now regretting not asking for more details in case they needed back up. "And you didn't ask for the location? Your stupidity astounds me," L said not having any patience. L furrowed his brow, pinching the bridge of his nose in contemplation. He was kicking himself for not asking for more details now either, but he figured it was y/n's life and their business is their own. A mistake, he noted, that he will not make twice. "Well, I guess if you want something done right," L said bringing out the tracking device he had kept on him for cases like this. "Hopefully, y/n was wise enough to bring the tracking device I asked them to have on them at all times." L would reason with himself that this wasn't a stalking thing. That was partially a lie. The major part of it is when y/n signed up for this, he had known that the job came with a particular risk factor that could include kidnapping and so on. L has seen enough for the dingy, corrupt criminal underworld to warrant such

paranoia. L's eyes lit up to see that yes it had been on them. "Oh thank heaven y/n you beautiful angel," L muttered as he put the device in his pocket. "Watari, I need you to drive me," L ordered Watari already heading towards the car 3 steps ahead of L. The room Mr. Tanakada had booked super pricey with much leg room to go around in. Y/n wasn't sure whether he was seeking to impress or knew y/n was an agent and looking to throw them off. Either way, it was a lot. Tanakada had set down two champagne glasses. One y/n was wise enough not to drink. Tanakada had raised an eyebrow in concern. "What's a matter," he had asked. "Oh I'm doing a 10 step program. Major drinking problems a few months back," they said coming up with a lie. "Tch I'm sure you can let loose for one night," said Tanakada lifting his own glass in temptation. "So uh Tanakada-san, you said you had an ongoing business proposition to ask of me," y/n said. "Oh yes. There's a bit of travel involved if you're in," he said leaning forward to look y/n in the eye. "Oh, and what makes you think I'm a perfect fit for this business proposition," y/n inquired. "I can tell just by looking at you. I have a certain eye for these things," he said looking y/n up and down. "Well, if you're that sure, I guess I can be onboard," y/n said leaning forward, placing their hand under their chin. "Good. You're a smart one," Tanakada said lifting his glass, "You sure you don't to drink to celebrate. Excellent. Just had to close the deal before getting to this point. "Cheers to new beginnings," y/n said lifting their glass. Just as they were about to drink, the door to the room busted wide open with a violent bang. Y/n stared behind them to find a very angry L breathing heavily. Y/n froze figuring this might happen, but hoping they wouldn't. L snatched the glass and handed it to Watari. "Watari, can you bring this in for testing. If it tests positive for drugs, then we may have a few more questions for you," L said staring down Tanakada the angriest he's ever been. Tanakada snarled. "And just who do you think you are barging into my private room and--" Tanakada froze with the sight of the warrant L had lifted up. "I would watch what you say. You're under suspicious Tanakada-san. Let's just say your place isn't so safe either right now," L said with a voice that wasn't so whimsical as it is during these moments, but very cold and caculated. Y/n could tell he had lost patience. L took his seat in one of the chairs around the room taking a candy bar out of his pocket. "You don't mind if we just hang out til the boys in blue inform me of your dirty laundry now do you," L stated taking a bite of his bar. L had a look in his eye that wasn't of a detective giving you his knowing gaze, but of a predator looking to tear apart its prey. It sent shivers down everyone's spine whether he realized it or not. Hours later, L's task force had come back with evidence. Video tapes upon files upon illegal drugs had been found in Tanakada's home. All of them leading to the missing people. L's eye twitched suspecting the man got off on this job and liked to keep recordings of his capture for a certain Mr. Hiroto. And to think y/n might have been next. The thought of someone jerking off to this happening to y/n made his hand turn white and shake with rage. He snarled at Tanakada as he was being taken away in cuffs. L was kind of hoping merely staring at Tanakada would knock him out cold from the impact. After rigorous hours of y/n giving their testimony to L and the task force, L flopped down on the couch in his room tired. Y/n came in with their pjs as L had asked them to stay the night. "Sorry about that. I just didn't want you to worry cause I thought you wouldn't ap--" Y/n was interrupted by L standing straight up to face them. His posture was usually abysmal so y/n had never seen him with his back straight. Seeing it for the first time was absolutely terrifying. "You're damn right I wouldn't approve. What were you thinking? You could have gotten killed or

taken away somewhere no one would find you. Is that what you want," L said actually raising his voice. Y/n tried to find the answer, but couldn't finding L pretty intimidating right now. L flopped back onto his couch sitting in his usual manner. "Seriously, I'd love to know what your thought process was," L said voice low and raspy. "Well, I figured, if I could get taken by the people you suspect, you could track me having seen that I had gone missing and that would be your evidence right there," y/n stated. L looked over at y/n like they grew a third head. Y/n could be reckless some times, but holy shit this took the cake. "I'm going to have to ask you to repeat that as I don't think I heard you right. You were hoping to get kidnapped," L inquired, voice containing a thinly veiled tone of frustration. "Well, yeah. What faster way to catch the crooks then to catch them in the act yeah," y/n responded. "Of all the stupid..." L growled running his hand down his face. He tapped his fingers on his knees trying to figure out what to say. Y/n stared at L for a long time. Y/n noticed the fall and rise of his shoulders had become sporadic. L was far from composed right now and y/n was close enough to him to know it. Y/n shuffled over to L and sat by him. L turned to y/n noticing the new presence beside him. L shakily reached out for y/n's hand, rubbing it tenderly. "Don't you dare ever do that again. You might work for me, but believe it or not, I care very much for your well being. Too much for you to be doing impulsive actions like this. Do you comprehend what I'm saying? I understand you want to help, but not at the risk of your life. Never at the risk of your life," L said as if he was nearly going to break down. Y/n looked down to see L's hand trembling and gripping y/n's hand. His breath became shaky and anxious. Y/n had never seen L this upset. They were mostly taken aback by how much this had shaken him up. "Ok. I'm sorry," y/n conceded. L nodded slowly, pulling y/n close. Y/n stood frozen at the sudden contact. Y/n slowly held L back. L could feel how exhausted he was as he melted into y/n's arm. The warmth and comfort was far more healing than anything L had ever felt. “I know that you love me, but your jealousy is getting out of hand," y/n said cracking a joke. L gave a stifled laugh at this. Not only cause it was kind of funny to him, but also he didn't want to admit the truth. While what he did to save y/n was out of pure concern, he had to admit. He had grown jealous towards the idea of them being alone together. This dangerous man holding y/n's hand, kissing them, earning y/n's sweet words in his ear. Possibly more. L didn't like to think about it nor did he want to. It was far too unbearable. L decided to retort before this feeling of envy took him to increasingly dark places. "Oh and what about you? I joked about taking a certain lady out on a date for an investigation and you looked like you were going to kill someone." Y/n shoulders stiffened at hearing this. God, they were hoping he didn't notice that. "Now whose jealous," L said stick his tongue out playfully. Y/n blushed and began looking for a way to change the subject. "Hey uuu isn't that movie you wanted to watch on netflix," y/n said picking up L's laptop punching in L's password. "Oh right. I guess a movie night wouldn't be so bad," L said taking the blanket off the edge of his couch, covering both of them. L clapped a couple of times, dimming the lights as the movie started. L may have been joking about y/n being just as much of a jealous creature as he was, but he had a hard time admitting aloud that he was dearly hoping it was true. L truly didn't want to think about anyone having y/n's affection. Having this time they gave him to someone else. He had never been this close, this trusting, with anyone. This in love with anymore. Romance was never a possibility in his mind seeing as he had never been interested in romance. Then here came along y/n. Someone who had effortlessly won his heart and made him fall in love

with them in the most romantic way possible. If anyone were to take any of that that away, take away the person he loved more than life itself, the person he fell in love with, he wasn't sure what he'd do. All he could do was hope y/n had fallen in love with him too.

[stevenbasic]

”So, tell me how it went..!” Melissa asked, tucking her fit, bare legs underneath herself on the white leather couch in her new office, attentively turning to me as she sat up. She’d summoned me to her office to have our Friday coffee, and had made us each a cup. Dressed especially informal for our “casual Fridays” in a v-neck green tee and girlish black short-shorts, her figure was on particularly luscious display today and I’d already caught myself staring...twice. “I want to hear everything!”

She was, of course, talking about my long-overdue meeting with her friend Abby, a sales rep from Evolution, a local pharmaceutical company intent on getting my practice involved in a clinical trial of their new product. Melissa, since her start as our new Office Manager, had been unusually invested in setting up a meeting between the two of us; they’d been friends for years, I gathered, and this was a favor to Abby. Little did I know that this favor would quickly spiral into a whirlpool that would threaten to drag me under and drown not only me but...well, read on. 

I took a look into my “World’s Best Boss” mug - a gift from her. Far too much milk, I saw...but I think I was starting to like it that way. “Okay, uh,” I began, taking my first sip, “yesterday afternoon…”

...

…I had just escorted Mr. Kowalczyk to the desk, pushing him along in his wheelchair, helping him start to check out, when Aubrey had given me the message. 

“There’s a sales rep waiting for you in your office,” she told me, eyes sparkling. Aubrey - a slim, elegant brunette - had looked especially pretty yesterday, maybe done her hair differently. We were trying her out at her new position as front desk supervisor, and she already seemed to be taking to the job well. 

“The one from...uh...Melissa’s friend?” I asked, a bit confused, “Abby?” Mr Kowalczyk, hearing the name, asked about Melissa - as he had three times earlier. “She’s off today, she’s not here,” I reminded him, now for the fourth time today, as his wife appeared alongside us. Melissa had this Thursday off, apparently for some doctors’ appointments of her own. 

“Yes, Abby,” Aubrey answered, turning her attention, for the moment, to our patient’s wife, “Co-pay is ten dollars, Mrs Kawalski...”

“That’s Kowal-check,” the elderly woman corrected, narrowing her eyes and apparently none-too-pleased. 

“That wasn’t supposed to be until tomorrow,” I commented, immediately annoyed but feeling my pulse start to quicken, “I was going to sit down with her on Friday…”. I signed Mr. Kowalczyk’s prescription. 

“It got moved up,” Aubrey told me, taking a credit card from my patient’s wife, “she’s here now…”

Why was I so nervous?

“Thank you, Mrs. Kawasaki…”

...

“...yes, sorry, I should have told you myself,” Melissa apologized, biting her lower lip, after a sip of coffee, “but it was a last minute thing. And I was still at my appointment when I heard…”

“Well, yeah, it’s okay…” I replied, eyes dropping to her still-tan thighs as she brushed at them with well-manicured fingers, tips painted a mint green to match her top, “it was just a surprise, is al-“”

“Isn’t she so pretty..??” Melissa asked, and urged me to continue my story…

...

“Thank you sooooo much for meeting with me,” Abby had greeted, immediately standing up from the chair in front of my desk as I entered the room. She stepped to shake my hand, “I’m Abby, from Evolution Pharmaceuticals.”

“Sure, sure, no problem,” I replied, noticing the confidence in her grip and the dimples in her smile. I recognized her right away from a picture Melissa had sent, early on. Maybe in her early thirties, Abby was an attractive person; lots of sales reps are. My guard was up, as it always was in these sort of sales meetings, but something in the sparkle of her eyes struck me...and her figure was nothing to sneeze at, either. I found my attitude softening already. “Melissa’s friend, right?” She had medium-length, medium-brown hair, and a nice tan complexion. Nice hips.

I guess I could give her a few minutes.

“Yes!” she answered, as we both moved to take our seats. Abby was dressed smartly, in a grey pencil skirt and sharp white blouse. “She and I met at Evolution, at our clinic, earlier this year. She’s great, so fun...”

Wait what?

“I know you’re busy, so I won’t keep you,” Abby continued, tucking her skirt beneath herself as she sat, pulling some slick promotional material from the fashionable leather bag beside her, “but I just want to introduce our product, go over some of the opportunities with you…”

What followed was both the typical sales presentation I’d seen a hundred times from different reps and at the same time one of the weirdest things I’d ever heard. From the emails and propaganda with which the company had flooded me over the past weeks, I’d read - or at least skimmed through - lots of it before. They claimed to have developed a novel general-health supplement for women; the science was still sort of hush-hush and what they could reveal was frankly a bit baffling. Normally I wouldn’t touch this sort of crap with a ten-foot pole, it all sounded so fishy at first. They were touting ambiguous improvements in mentation, endurance, strength, a whole host of other things. But I didn’t want to disappoint Melissa and, well, while I knew that the “Lean In” grants we were scheduled to receive - and frankly were going to be dependent on - were tied to us supporting female-led businesses, it soon became clear to me in talking with Abby that, um...we almost didn’t have a choice. I was starting to get the feeling that if we didn’t start working with Evolution, there’d be no money from Lean In. And so, becoming nervous, I was slowly forced to pay a bit more attention as we sat across my desk from one another, ten minutes or so into it. I was beginning to realize...we actually needed them.

But I still definitely had my doubts, my reservations, a whole load of concerns. How safe was this going to be?  “And these patients,” I asked, “for the trial...the subjects. They would come from…?” It was a reasonable question. My practice was geriatric, and this was a product for younger women.

“We’d take care of that, we’d bring them in, we have a whole list of gir-...of women ready,” Abby assured me, her disarming smile doing its job, “We wouldn’t need to involve your current patients at all.” She watched me nodding, knowing she had made more than a bit of an inroad with me. “In fact, you wouldn’t even have to do much,” she continued, proceeding confidently, “we’d supply you with the new staff you’d need, we’d bring in all the supplies and equipment. We’d hook you up with our trial coordinator from corporate, she’ll organize everything. You’d just end up doing some video chats with her once in awhile.” At that Abby smiled strangely.  “Her name's Brenda, you’ll like her.”

“It all sounds, uh, umm…”

Sitting there, at my desk, part of me couldn’t believe I was even considering this, still even talking to this woman. That part of me, though, wasn’t seeing what another small part of me was seeing - that the power dynamic in this conversation, between Abby and I, had gradually shifted. It was her, now, who held the upper hand. She represented the money, she was the big player. I was really the small fish here.  The only thing that kept me from feeling like a nobody was knowing that my practice was somehow important to them, that they wanted me for some reason.

Why exactly was that?

“We’re a small company, but it’s not just money from Lean In that we come to the table with,” Abby continued, eyes sparkling, “we’d been bought a few years ago by a big, international group, so now we’re just ripe with resources. We can help you through tough times like you’ve been having, business down, income fading-.”

“Well, now,” I interjected, my pride rankled, “I wouldn’t say that…” I mean, I wouldn’t say it, but it was totally true. But how did she know all this?? Had she and Melissa been talking abou-

“Oh, shh, you don’t need to be embarrassed, it’s okay,” she said, “It’s nothing to be ashamed about, we understand. We know your practice is shrinking, but your needs are growing. And that’s why we’re growing too, so we can help nurture you, provide for you.”

This was humiliating as fuck but...why was I getting hard? Yes, Abby was attractive, blouse just a little too tight, chest just a little bigger than necessary. She was pretty, yes. No, actually...now with all the power in the room centered on her, with the strength she represented, she was downright hot. And the scenario she was laying out for me, this relationship I’d have with her big, female corporation? It felt positively...maternal. And, it was beginning to feel like a foregone conclusion, that I would be taken under their skirts. But again - why was I getting hard?

“Evolution will take good care of you,” Abby assured me, her voice growing subtly more tender, as if reading my thoughts, “and as we get bigger, and grow, we’ll carry you along with us. We can tuck you in to our...corporate structure. You’ll be safe, there, close to us.”

If I hadn’t noticed the outline of her bra beneath her blouse before, I was noticing it now. 

“Would you like that?” she asked, probingly. 

“Uhh…”

“We’d make sure you don’t get left behind, as the world changes,” she continued, “because the world is changing, Dr. J, and we think our product is going to help women succeed in it. Don’t you want to be there with us?”

“Uhhhh…”

Seeing my anxiety starting to get the better of me, Abby smiled disarmingly. “You probably need to talk to Melissa about it, before deciding on the trial,” she began again, “right?”

Oh my god I couldn’t believe it, how demeaning that was, but I knew it was my out - for now. ”yeah I guess I probably should…” I said, weakly…

“Of course you do…” Abby smiled. 

…

“So…<nnngh>...” Melissa all but groaned, inching closer to me on the couch, “you wanted my approval, first?” 

As I had recounted my story, described the meeting to her, Melissa had slowly, gradually, become visibly more excited, completely engaged. She’d asked me to repeat details, recount conversation, all the while gazing intently into my face and moving intimately closer to me on the soft leather couch in her office. Her curves, her larger body had me slowly retreating, backing up as best I could. An arm rested on the back of the couch behind me.

“w-well I, uh…” I stammered, eyes dropping again for a furtive glance at her thighs, hips, her tiny waist. I was, at this point, already overtaken by the scent of her perfume. “it’s uh-“ 

“It’s like you’re recognizing you need my help, isn’t it?” she asked, a strange huskiness in her voice, “Isn’t it?? That you have an easier time when I make the decisions for you??”

I couldn’t say anything, looking at her. I was tongue-tied realizing, in that moment, how assertive women now framed the borders of my life, affected my daily choices. And they were, if anything, all pushing me into the clutches of other powerful women. If I took this money, allowed this clinical trial to set root in my office, it would mean becoming dependent on both Evolution and Lean In. Lean In, I was learning, was a well-connected, obviously well-funded female empowerment organization, one that seemed determined to get women into places of influence and strengthen them while they’re there. And Evolution Pharmaceuticals was not just the rinky-dink pill pop-up that I’d assumed it was, but rather a small piece of some larger player...and maybe I’m just being paranoid, but probably also controlled by women. If I took this money, I felt like it would be sucking from the big collective teat of the country’s - and perhaps the world’s - most powerful alpha females.

“I, uh…” I began, forgetting where I was, “yeah…”

“Omigod I am SO happy with you right now..!!” she suddenly, finally gushed, sitting up taller, jumping towards me and abruptly throwing her arms around me. Strong hands behind my head now pulled my face to her chest. “You are such a good boss!”

“mmmrf!”

Embracing me to her bosom, she squealed, and hugged me tighter. Soft breast squashed into my face, my head plastered to Melissa's big left boob. 

Oh my god what is she doing?!? I panicked, arms flailing helplessly as I heard her start to laugh. Despite my struggles, she held me firm - if anything, holding me even tighter still. 

“M-m-m-Mulithhah!” I tried, voice muffled by the mushy mass mashed into my mouth. 

“Shhhhh…!” she giggled, “I can’t help myself, I need to hug you!” Pressing herself into me, she moaned in delight. “Hug hug hug! I need to show you what a good boy you are!!”

The warmth, the softness of her breast was overwhelming, and as she held me firm I - despite myself - started to calm, give myself up to her massive tit. “mmmmf…” I tried again, this time my complaint sounding more like a little sigh. 

She looked down at me, quietening down herself. When she spoke again, her voice had softened. 

“That okay, sweetie?” she purred, cupping my head from behind with one palm as the other moved into my hair, “Can you breathe down there?”

I groaned something, something in assent and - god help me - rubbed my nose into her.

She giggled.

“There you go…” she cooed,  now petting my head, “all good now, all good. Just breathe...” 

I sighed again, every breath I took full of her perfume, the scent of her skin. I heard, through her chest, her cooing little praises.

“Good boy...good boy…” she lauded, enveloping me with affection. She was peering down at me, I knew, though my eyes had closed already. I felt her ready herself, and winced in shame even before she asked me the question that I knew was coming:

”So, with the trial…” she asked, “what have we decided?”

=================================================

Thanks so much to the incomparably amazing Dani Doreen for the image. We're so proud to have her onboard as our resident "from the neck down" Melissa and can't wait to work with her some more. She's so awesome and I'd recommend everyone check out her GTS/SM content:

Dani Doreen’s OnlyFans

https://onlyfans.com/danidoreen

[alyss01]

|[Trending]|

[Corpse Husband x GN! reader]

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Genre: fluff (kinda)

Word count: 2.5 K

Requested: no (to request send me a submission, an ask or a message) REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Synopsis: You meet Corpse for the first time after being invited by Sean to a game of Among us. The two of you make quite a good pair in the game and as soon as you close the game and start messaging Corpse privately you check your twitter.

Warnings: violence in among us

A/n: I really didn't know what to write but this seemed like a lot of fun. It was kind of awkward writing it but I hope you don't notice that when reading. I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

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You were leaning back in your desk chair, you had just finished editing a video to go up on YouTube when you were disturbed by a ping on your phone.

"Are you up for a game of Among us?" Sean was the culprit of your distraction during your well earned break. Not that you minded, the Irish man a great friend of you and a seemingly infinite source of entertainment.

"Idk, are there others I know there as well?" You asked, unsure of wanting to go through the draining process of meeting a bunch of new people and having to worry about first impressions and such.

"A couple. Toast, Sykunno and Felix. Does that sound good?" He responded, you thought for a second, it had been awhile since you streamed and it could definitely be fun.

"I'll be there in 10. Keep the spot open." You messaged back as you closed your phone, and started to set up everything you needed to start the stream.

In the meantime Sean informed the group they could play a quick game with nine people before their fill would arrive.

You kept the intro to your stream quick, posting a quick post on instagram to inform people you were going live.

When you joined the call they seemed to have just finished the game, "Lud, I can't believe you vented in front of me!" You could instantly hear the different voices of your friends fill your ears as they bickered over their last game.

Your little avatar joined the spaceship as the group quieted down. You greeted them cheerfully, "Hi guys!"

Sykunno was the first to greet you as well, he perked up at the sound of your voice, "oh hi Y/n!" You chuckled, "it's been awhile Sykunno."

"Don't steal my simp away like that Y/n." You laughed at Toast's hurtful voice as Sykunno hurried back to denying it. Being more than well aware of the joke it had become it was always fun to tease them about it.

"Sykunno won't know who to simp for now." Felix chuckled as everyone laughed, you were glad to have joined the game, it was already promising to be a fun set of games today.

When you glanced at your chat you could see an arrange of comments flash over the screen, some greeting you, others joking about the comic situation from before yet most kept saying 'wait for it'.

"Hey guys why is my chat being spammed with 'wait for it'? What are you planning behind my back." You were skeptical of the group, knowing full well what they had planned for new comers when they joined in the past. You wanted them to know you wouldn't fall for it but instead of anything you just received laughs in response.

You were confused as ever when Felix spoke up as first, "you don't think they're talking about Corpse, do you?"

This just made you more confused, "Corpse?"

"Wait don't tell me you've never played with Corpse before?" Jack nearly yelled out, and it reminded you why you standardly had him turned down in volume in discord. "Why haven't I forced you to play with him before?!" He continued as the look of confusion only grew on your face. Your chat was going insane as you looked on another screen where discord was displayed, indeed seeing that one of the names in the call was this so called 'Corpse'.

"So uhm, who is Corpse?" You asked somewhat awkwardly, and a deep voice greeted you back.

You were taken by surprise to say the least, Felix comically counting to three before your own voice seemed to return, "assuming that was real, that's one heck of a voice you got there dude." A smile on your face as you continued to look at the screen.

"Yea.. uh thanks?" You could hear the awkwardness in his voice, "I'm sorry, you must get that a lot." You apologized while chuckling as he agreed, "yea, you could say that."

With that settled the game of Among us started. You walked out of cafeteria, followed by Corpse and Sykunno as you did the med scan, Sykunno checking if it was real and doing his own scan after.

Corpse followed the two of you around to cameras where he vented when both you and Sykunno were watching the cameras. His kill in electrical was fast and flawless as he vented back, just in time to see you walk down from the cameras.

You had seen him, he knew that. Yet you didn't run to the button. A devilish smile on your face as you spoke to your chat, "now I'm interested in how his going to play this." Sykunno left cams, and the three of you split from each other to do tasks.

You met up with Corpse once more in admin, as you were scanning your card. The lights went out as you stood at the admin table beside him, who was still faking the task, although it didn't do anything to convince you after what you had seen earlier.

Although you had expected him to kill you right then and there, he didn't. He stayed beside you until the body was reported.

Three people had died so far.

Corpse stayed silent, only speaking when a question was asked. "I was the entire time beside Y/n, they can vouch for me."

You raised your eyebrows as you listened along. He was testing his boundaries. He was testing you.

"He was with me the entire time yes, so that should clear me." You spoke, muting yourself for a second as you talked to your chat, "I'll keep that information for later, he can't kill me now, cause I'm clearing him."

"It doesn't clear you, three people died." Rae spoke up for the first time that meeting, but Corpse was quick to defend you, "If we would've been imposters we would've just double killed twice."

You mouth opened although no words came out. Sykunno backed you up, saying that he cleared you with the med bay scan so both you and Corpse were safe.

"This is actually hilarious." You said as you laughed loudly when the meeting ended. In the end they had skipped because you were still with seven left.

As you walked around the map Corpse trailed you like a puppy, only disappearing once. When you found a body in comms later while walking by you reported it, "it's in comms."

Five people were left. They were one person away from winning.

It wasn't needed for you to reveal your information quite yet, Toast had big brained and figured out that Rae was one of the imposters. Seeing as his evidence seemed accurate enough you voted, and the game didn't end when she was thrown into the vast emptiness of space.

During the next round Corpse disappeared from your side once more, and you left your position. Instead of waiting for him you stood at the button and waited for a few seconds to be sure Corpse had killed before pressing the emergency button.

"Good button." Corpse started and Sykunno agreed. Three people were left.

You smiled as you shifted position, leaning your head on your hand as you watched the screen. "So this button has a reason. We need to vote."

Again both males agreed. "Sykunno remember how you cleared me at med bay the first round?"

"Yes.."

"So then it's Sykunno." Corpse concluded and your confusion was obvious on your camera as you were trying to understand what Corpse was doing.

"Well you didn't check me, so it can definitely be me." Sykunno agreed thoughtfully, and you shifted in your chair, smacking your hands on your desk "Wait what? Sykunno I know it's not you!"

"You were with Corpse the entire game though, and you never cleared me!" He argued back and you failed to see the logic in his words.

"Sykunno I literally saw Corpse vent!" You yelled out, locking your vote into corpse.

This new information seemed to take Sykunno by surprise as well, "wait what? You actually saw him vent? When?"

"First round at cams. I got off earlier than you and Corpse hopped out of the vent after killing someone in electrical, after all that's where the body was found. So after that he followed me around each round." You explained as Sykunno locked in his vote as well.

Corpse didn't say anything before locking in his own vote.

He got thrown out with three votes that round.

You were practically yelled at by both Felix and Jack after not having avenged them by outing Corpse that first round.

It was the second round when the fun really started to happen. Both you and Corpse managed to land imposter this time. You were glad you were muted when you saw the screen with the red letters painted above it, the loud laughing that escaped your throat would've been a dead give away.

You managed to kill two people during that round, both when lights were off. When you shot Sykunno in his head you whispered a silent apology as you self reported his body.

"Okay so who killed my simp?" You spoke as soon as you unmuted yourself in the meeting. Immediately Corpse and Sean went wild, "who killed my best bud?!" Sean immediately followed.

"I swear whoever killed Sykunno won't get away with this." Corpse followed up. Surprisingly enough this pulled any suspicion off the three of you. No one wanted to believe any of you three would actually murder Sykunno.

They shot out Rae for whatever reason that round, although you barely noticed in your laughing fit. You didn't stop laughing after Toast had quite literally said "Y/n, Sean and Corpse have to be clear, otherwise I would've heard Sykunno cry from his room because of the betrayal."

"I'm gonna stalk Y/n. Ain't no way both my best friends are getting murdered." The words that left Sean's mouth in the last seconds of the meeting made you stop laughing.

You followed Sean around, talking to your chat in the meantime, "okay so I'm switching tactics. I'm gonna marinate Sean now."

When the next body was reported you indeed had not left Sean's side. It made the group believe that one of the killers had indeed been thrown out and it also cleared your name.

Now both you and Corpse were cleared, as he had marinated someone the first round and now you also had someone to vouch for you.

"So we got one out just now, otherwise we there probably would've been more people dead." Toast started the meeting when Felix's body was found.

"Or one of the imposters is sitting it out." Hafu continued and immediately they started to debate. With six people left you were ready for a double kill to win.

"I can only vouch for Corpse for round one." Poki spoke up, immediately drawing sus to corpse. There wasn't anything you could do against it so you let it happen, and in the end he got voted out.

His ghost followed you as you walked around. You decided to speedrun the remaining round. You killed Poki first in med bay and vented into security as you walked towards electrical.

If you played this well enough you could put Sean in a 50/50.

Next on your list was either Toast or Hafu. You sliced Toast's neck in comms and when you went to check admin table you could see both Hafu and Sean together in navigation.

You waited for a bit longer before taking the long way through cafeteria, and when you arrived your kill cool down was ready.

You sliced through Hafu's avatar as the screen faded to black and displayed your victory.

The rounds that followed that one were on your end spent as cremated, although they were still a lot of fun. You stayed with Corpse for a large part of it, vouching for each other when you could. More than once that resulted in the both of you being thrown out.

When Corpse left the group you saw that it had been a couple of hours. It was starting to get late for you as well so you too decided to end there. You closed your stream with some last words and got up from your set up as you stretched.

You grabbed your phone as you opened discord, sending a quick message to Corpse, "it was great meeting you! You're one hell of an imposter by the way." You fell backwards on your bed.

Within a minute you got a reply, "likewise, we made a great team." You chuckled aloud. This wasn't what you had planned for the day but it was a lot of fun. You were glad you had joined the game.

"Will you be joining future games as well?" You messaged back, hoping for a positive answer.

"I hope so, it isn't up to me though." You couldn't see Corpses smile through the screen, neither could he see your broad smile as you typed a reply.

"Got it. Rest assured knowing I'll message you as soon as I get the opportunity for anyone to join! No matter what, I hope to see you more often in the lobby." You clicked send as you dropped your phone on the bed. You laughed as you pressed your face in one of your pillows, you could barely believe you just send that.

"Same." The beep from your phone had you grab it as you read his reply, the smile on your face growing brighter.

When you closed discord you could see the massive amount of notifications on twitter. You opened the app, seeing your account swamped with tweets over your stream and the hashtag '#CorpseandY/n' trending.

The tweets ranged from clips from your stream mashed with clips from Corpses stream, to just messages and drawings of scenes of the stream. You recognized your little avatar turning around when corpse vented right in front of you while Corpses avatar was littered with blood splatters in one of the mini comics.

You returned to your chat with him on discord, "have you checked twitter since the start of among us?"

"No, I've gotten a lot of notifications though."

"I recommend you check it." You laughed as Corpse went offline. A couple of minutes later he returned, "we're trending."

"Yup, we are."

[sincerelymarinette]

A Recorded Life Sequel (10/10) - Miraculous Ladybug

Words: 2033 Summary: In the finale, Adrien confronts his father and Marinette and Adrien have a date they deserve. Author's Note: Well, here we are, the last chapter! I've been writing this story for over 2 years now and I'm so happy people have enjoyed it so much. Thank you all for reading and sticking with me! I hope you like the finale :) <3

Prev / Masterlist

Breaking News

---

Adrien waited in the cold room that he had not dared to visit in years. He thought for a long time, and finally made the difficult decision to make the trip. He'd been haunted with trauma and nightmares since he was a teenager by this man, but it was high time he went to see his father again, especially if he intended not to see him for many more years.

The doors opened, and Adrien shot up to straighten his posture when he saw his father entering the room with a guard by his side. His hair was flat, which always caught Adrien by surprise, and Gabriel's scowl was deeper than Adrien ever knew. Gabriel wouldn't admit it, but he was surprised that Adrien came to see him. Last time, their conversation did not end well, and Adrien promised he would not come to see Gabriel unless it was serious.

But after many meetings with his therapist, Adrien decided that this was important enough to see Gabriel. It was a few weeks after the fashion show, but he was sure Gabriel was going to criticize it as much as he could.

"Hello, Adrien," Gabriel said as he sat down across from his son.

"Father," Adrien replied. Though Adrien was older now, and doing much better, he was still scared to talk to Gabriel and did everything in his mind to calm himself down.

They stared at each other for a moment in silence, neither one sure how to converse. Finally, Gabriel took a breath and spoke. "I watched some of the fashion show you and Miss Dupain-Cheng hosted."

"I wasn't sure if you would be able to. It was a nice day," Adrien said, not asking for his opinion, but sure he was going to get it.

"I would have done it differently. The timing was off, and you could have had better music. You had your designers redesign some of my work?" Gabriel criticized.

"Well, all of our reviews praised the music and said the models were amazing. And yes, I did. To fit our rebrand and new mission and values. No one wants to wear something that Hawkmoth designed anymore," Adrien said, holding back every muscle in his body to not roll his eyes.

Gabriel shook his head condescendingly. "You're being dramatic."

Adrien took a deep breath to calm himself down before answering. "Maybe. But all of my reviews recently have been better than they were when you were in charge. They like seeing me so active in the company, and our lines launched in stores recently, and business is booming. So I must be doing something right," Adrien said, confidently. Gabriel's jaw dropped, but Adrien continued to talk before Gabriel could interject. "I only came here to tell you one thing, father, but it turns out I actually have more."

"Go on," Gabriel said after composing himself.

"My time in therapy has helped me deal with everything you have thrown at me, and I know you don't approve of it, but Marinette and I are happiest together. We are running The Fashion House together, and we are sure it will be better than you could have ever dreamed. I hope you learn from your time locked away that what you did was harmful, but I know you won't," Adrien spit out, not thinking twice. "And I am going to continue to be happy with Marinette and my friends for the rest of my life, running Emilie's together and keeping Paris safe."

Gabriel shook his head again, not wanting to hear it. "I will be out of here eventually, Adrien, and I will take back what is mine."

"The Fashion House is mine now, and you're going to be stuck in here for the rest of your life. You're delusional if you think you, Paris' Supervillain, is ever going to get out of here," Adrien said. "It's a shame you turned your grief for my mother to evil and will miss out on the rest of my life, but I don't care anymore. It's clear you don't." Adrien didn't wait for a reaction from Gabriel, grabbed his coat, and stood up to walk out of the room. He was scanned out as Gabriel was brought back to his cell, still a bit shocked by what Adrien said to him.

---

It was a warm summer day in Paris, and Marinette and Adrien finally made time for themselves to have a nice date. They had spent so much time working day in and day out, that they decided they could be a little selfish and take the day for a date. No Kwamis, no cameras,  and no one around. It was a nice, well-deserved break for both of them.

They decided the best date to celebrate all they've been through the last few years was to get out of the busy part of the city, and back to the park near the Bakery and the school where they met. The park they spent many days fighting Akumas and filming videos with their friends. Maybe they could even catch a ride on the carousel.

They set up the picnic blanket and started laying out the food. Sandwiches, chips, crackers, and the dessert they got from Tom and Sabine when they stopped by for a quick chat before the date. Marinette's parents were the exception to the no people rule.

They started eating as they relaxed. Every time they came back here, they were always flushed with memories, more memories than what usually came back when they would only visit the bakery. "I'm glad we finally have some time to ourselves. Don't get me wrong, the past few weeks with all the lines coming out has been amazing," Marinette started. "But it's nice to have a few minutes to breathe fresh air."

"I agree, and not have the endless amount of questions ten hours a day," Adrien laughed. "I love what we're doing, but man, it's been tough. Hopefully, now that the rebrand is completed, it will calm down just a bit."

"I bet," Marinette nodded. "Now we just have to worry about new meetings for our fall and winter lines!" She said.

Adrien nodded with her as he took a bite of his sandwich. "I'm happy we chose to come back here; it's been a while since we've been to the park."

"Oh yeah, and it's really nice to not have our date interrupted by Akumas. It's been years, but I still worry," She admitted.

"I know. Nooroo may be living in the box happily, but it's still a valid fear. But you're such a great guardian I know there's nothing to worry about," He complimented.

Marinette rolled her eyes. "Flattering only gets you so far, Agreste," She told him.

Adrien shrugged and looked around the park, remembering how much has changed. Photoshoots, videos created with his friends, projects from school, and now dates. "I saw my father yesterday,"  Adrien said.

"Is that where you got off to?" Marinette raised her eyebrow. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wasn't planning on it; I just kind of ended up there," He said. "Well, I was planning on seeing him, just didn't think it would be yesterday. He didn't approve of our show or how we're running the Fashion House, but I told him I don't care. I was going back and forth on asking him some things, but then I saw how he is, still planning revenge and hoping to get out of prison, and I realized I don't care what he thinks. I haven't for years, and I don't need to tell him when I'm going to do something or need his permission. Then I stopped by the bakery to reward myself with talking to your parents, who actually enjoy having me around," He said, not aware that he was rambling about the whole experience.

Marinette put her hand on Adrien's shoulder to catch his attention. "Well, it sounds like you made some good self-discovery and figured you don't need your dad. I'm happy to hear that, because your dad really sucks," She said, with a slight smirk on her face. "What were you going to ask him?"

Adrien shook his head to brush it off. "I ended up bringing it up to your parents, because it's much more important to me that they approved of my ideas. They're good people, Mari."

"So you've said. Is everything okay?" She asked, a little worried he was beating around the answer.

Adrien took a deep breath and nodded slowly. He took another bite of his sandwich, and the meat inside fell out the other end and onto his pants. Adrien started to sift through the basket for the extra napkins as Marinette watched him closely. He slowed his searching as he began to talk. "Yeah, I think I'm better than ever, actually. You mentioned the Akumas earlier, and my dad and Hawkmoth were horrible. And though endless amounts of bad things came from him, there were some good things that came from it that I wouldn't want to change," Adrien said.

Marinette cocked her head, waiting for him to elaborate. "Us becoming superheroes, working with our friends closer than ever giving my mom her proper burial. Us finally becoming a couple; that one I wouldn't ever want to change," He said and looked back at her with a small smile. He pulled the extra napkins out and removed some off the top, revealing a black box underneath. Adrien opened the lid as Marinette was putting together what he was saying and saw the sparkle from the sun once it was opened. "Marinette, will you marry me?" He asked.

Marinette's jaw was dropped as she looked at Adrien. "Was this what you were going to ask Gabriel? If he was okay with us getting married?" She asked.

"Yes, but like I said, I don't care what he thinks. Then I asked your parents, and they said they've been waiting for it for years, so of course they thought it was a good idea," Adrien said.

Marinette giggled and nodded. "Of course, I would love to marry you, Adrien."

Adrien's smile grew wide, and he leaned forward to kiss Marinette. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too."

---

BREAKING NEWS: ADRIEN AGRESTE AND MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG ENGAGED!  By: Alya Césaire <link>

oh my god oh my god oh my god

ITS HAPPENING PEOPLE THE ADRIENETTE WEDDING WILL BE HAPPENING

first alya and nino, now adrien and mari, how will i ever cope seeing them grow up like this

took them long enough! happy for you guys

i remember when adrien first appeared in one of marinette's videos and people shipped them from the start, look where we are now

how it started, how it's going

this is going to be the biggest wedding EVER

will they have the wedding in the backyard of the mansion like they said in the "if we were dating" video from before they were dating

this is the best news of the year

Marinette laughed as she read the Tweets in their trending section, happy to see how excited everyone was. Fans from when she first started her channel following her for years and years, to now watching her get engaged and eventually married. Her parents and friends were beyond excited for the two of them, already ready for the parties and the big wedding (if they decided to go big, that is), and couldn't wait for all to come. Gabriel obviously did not approve, but no one cared, as Marinette and Adrien were going to be happy together without room for negativity.

The Kwamis were excited to shower the wedding with magic, and Marinette couldn't wait to document her road to the wedding. They had to plan, she wanted to make her dress, and she was planning on having a cake tasting session with her parents. Even if they decide not to go big, the celebration with their friends would still have all the fun aspects of a big wedding.

It had been a long few years of battling Akumas and Adrien's father; Marinette and Adrien deserved to be unapologetically happy.

---

@lady-of-the-roses-and-lilies @bookishserendipity03 @avatheexceed @gkz10 @coccinellegirl @kat-thatoneweirdo @strawberryblondish @snow-swordswoman @lilgaga98 @evufries @toodaloo-kangaroo

[choco-glow]

Is This Thing On?

“You, my dear Shan, are a hard man to find at the best of times.” Theron smirked, just a little, as he sipped his drink from the half-hidden booth he’d chosen, gesturing for Jonas Balker to sit in the opposite seat. Both agents toasted one another, and Theron leaned forward a little into the light, chuckling when Jonas swore heavily at the bruises and cuts marring his face. “And what the hell kind of shit have you been in this time?”

“C’mon now, Balker, I know you know what I’ve been up to, I’ve been fending off your droids for months now all over Rishi so that Lana didn’t stab me. Besides, they look worse than they are.” Jonas glared him down…and sighed a little, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a long draught off his own whiskey.

“Force help me, I do. So, the Revanites…”

“Currently in rout on Yavin-4; we’re now working with the Grandmaster of the Jedi and Darth Marr to build a joint operation…which you also know about, because I know I saw you in and out of the Imperial camps at least twice. You fit the uniform just fine, but that accent sucks.” Jonas flipped him the bird, but shook his head and smiled anyway, and they fell into familiar roles, bantering back and forth as they exchanged information both useful and already used, that rare combination of being both spies and best friends since they were teenagers…and as they ordered fresh drinks, Jonas paused a little bit, and looked like he’d bitten a lemon. Theron just sighed.

“C’mon, out with it.”

“…are you alright after that torture?” His voice was low, soft, and honestly concerned…and Theron gave his friend a faint smile, lacing his gloved fingers together and leaning in a little. Closing his eyes, Theron took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, calming his thoughts, his whole being, drawing on everything Master Zho had ever taught him, because even with the stunt he’d pulled to escape…it had been horrific. The pain wasn’t as bad as the mindprobe, and even now, Theron shuddered at the memory of Revan’s casual perusal of his very soul…but he’d gotten his revenge, in the sweetest way possible, and that had also gotten him the opportunity to break free.

“It was…it was bad. Very bad. But you remember those holovids I had to watch all the time when I was a kid? The ones that were made specifically for the Shan family?” Jonas blinked, suddenly confused by the change of subject, but nodded anyway, well aware even now of the ranting Theron used to go off on about the utter stupidity of those vids…and Theron grinned. “Well, I kept a special link of ‘em for the explicit reason of throwing it back in Revan’s face if I ever got the chance. And that idiot gave me the perfect opening.”

“…No.”

“Yup.”

“You didn’t.”

“Damn right I did.”

“How the fuck were you not stabbed?”

“I have no clue. But it worked, I escaped, and here we are.” Jonas narrowed his eyes, and pointed accusingly at Theron now, who was trying to pull his best injured innocent face over the wicked grin.

“Bullshit, there’s so much more to that story, and you owe me the whole thing, Shan.”

“Fine, fine, but we’re gonna need more drinks.” He slapped down a full credit chip on the table, and Theron felt his grin widen even further. “Alrighty then, strap in, because this is gonna be fun…”

---

Eighteen years earlier…

Padawan Theron Shan, thirteen, arms crossed, robes a mess, his lip busted open from the last scuffle, stared resolutely at the wall as Masters Kaedan, Bakarn, and Zho tried to figure out a suitable punishment. Fighting between Padawans was strictly prohibited, of course, short of controlled sparring, but defending a Padawan who was disabled from several of the wealthier children of the elite on Coruscant did merit some praise…but he’d still started a fight. Ngani Zho sighed faintly, and turned to his wayward pupil.

“Theron, please speak to us. We understand why you fought as you did, and we want you to know that defending Padawan Ask’lil is a noble, kind thing…but you still cannot brawl as you did today.” Theron shrugged, slouched as he was in the chair, still glaring a hole in the wall, and it was Syo who shook his head.

“I fear we won’t be getting through to him this way, Ngani; however, there are the old holovids we could show him. It might be good to give Theron a sense of right.” Master Zho noticed Theron glance up at that, but didn’t call him on it, only nodding a little in confusion. Certainly, they had many holovids for Padawans to learn from, but he wasn’t sure what Syo was talking about…until a familiar figure appeared, and Zho had to keep himself from dropping his head in his hands.

“Is this thing on, love?”

“Yes dear.”

“Oh good—-CRAP. Uh…okay. Ignore that. Ahem.” Righting the microphone in the vid, they watched as none other than Revan himself smoothed his robes down, gave the camera a weak smile, and launched into what was possibly the most boring ‘you must keep to the side of Light!’ speech Ngani had ever heard. Now he knew why he’d forgotten this; he’d repressed the memories from when Satele was young.

Theron was staring in horror now, glancing around the room as if looking for escape, and Ngani grimaced in sympathy, because this was just…painful to sit through. Everything from “even thinking impure thoughts can lead to the Dark side” to “Remember, the best way to end a fight is by talking out your differences.” It was cringe-worthy at best, and as the holo finally came to a close, he resisted the urge to punch Kaedan and Bakarn both. Barely.

“…and remember the Jedi Code. There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force.” Revan winked out, the room finally quiet…and as the Masters stood up to leave, Theron took his chance and bolted out the door. Ngani didn’t have it in him to stop the boy, and though both Syo and Jaric were disgruntled, he calmed them down with a few words and made his way back to their rooms.

“Master, please please do not let them show me that again.” Theron’s voice came from his hiding place in the vents, and Zho chuckled, motioning for his Padawan to come down.

“I’ll do my best, lad, but you’ve got along way to go. Now, come down and let us work on your form…”

—-

“Oh c’mon, not another round of this stupid vid…”

“Then stop picking fights with other Padawans, Theron!”

“It’s not my fault they have punchable faces…”

“Is this thing on, love?”

“Yes dear.”

“Oh good—-CRAP. Uh…okay. Ignore that. Ahem. Welcome, young Padawans, and may the Force be with you…”

“Arrrrrrrrrrgh.”

---

“No.”

“You have to watch it.”

“No.”

“Is this thing on, love?”

“Yes dear.”

“Oh good—-CRAP. Uh…okay. Ignore that. Ahem. Welcome, young Padawans, and may the Force—-”

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck.”

“THERON.”

---

“Snooooooooooore.”

“I know you’re awake, Theron.”

“Snooooooooooooore.”

“Is this thing on, love?”

“Yes dear.”

“Oh good—-CRAP. Uh…okay. Ignore that. Ahem. Welcome, young Padawans, and may the Force—-”

“…..SNOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE.”

---

“Is this thing on, love?”

“Yes dear.”

“Oh good—-CRAP. Uh…okay. Ignore that. Ahem. Welcome, young Padawans, and may the Force—-”

“I hate this shit.”

“I do too, lad.”

“We could just leave and let it play…or destroy it.”

“And risk listening to Jaric scream all week long? I’d rather listen to Revan.”

“Dammit.”

“Theron, stop swearing.”

“All due respect, Master: fuck no.”

"Remember, the best way to end a fight is by talking out your differences.”

“Did you hear that, Theron? We should talk things out.”

“Arrrrrrrrrgh.”

---

Six weeks prior

Panting, blood trickling from his half-fried implants, head pounding, Theron closed his eyes and took a deep breath, fighting back a whimper as his two broken ribs seared through his abdomen. He hated interrogation tables for a number of reasons, as did any other sane being, but at least he was lying down at the moment; gravity was not kind to injuries when vertical. And the blinding light that they’d been using on him was off too, small mercies for that…and Revan had also left, which allowed Theron to rest a little before figuring out his next move.

I could just…break out and leave, there’s enough little ways to escape, but with my ribs, the vents and holes in the cave ceiling aren’t possible…I could take out a guard and dress up, but I don’t know the codes…and his people are too paranoid. Dammit…shooting my way out might be the only option… He turned his head to the right to peer through the darkness, narrowing his eyes as he studied the console…and a spark of joy leapt in him when he realized he could see a link between his implants and the console. It’s a Republic model! These idiots must have stolen from Alderaan, because I know that code all too well…

Then, a sudden, vicious grin stretched over his handsome features, and Theron Shan activated the link, uploading an obscure old video to the whole of the Revanite compound as he also had his manacles unlocked and the door opened.

“Take this, you fucking hypocrite.”

"Is this thing on, love?”

“Yes dear.”

“Oh good—-CRAP. Uh…okay. Ignore that. Ahem. Welcome, young Padawans, and may the Force be with you…”

Theron’s laughter could be heard over the alarms sounding as he grabbed up his blasters and hightailed it out the door.

—-

Sipping his fourth drink now and feeling a delightful buzz, Theron grinned at Jonas’ face. The older spy looked like he’d been slapped by a fish, jaw dropped, drink frozen in midair, and Theron couldn’t help the laughter bubbling up, wheezing a little as his ribs twinged in warning under the bandages.

“You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“You’re a mad bastard.”

“And you’re surprised by this?”

“No, just…impressed. Honestly so impressed. How in the name of the Force did that go down?”

“Oh, I probably got us shot at a whole lot more when Revan saw that, he was furious, but damn, it was worth it. My…partners in crime were confused until I explained it, then Lana actually congratulated me for throwing the whole base into chaos.” Jonas just shook his head, finally downing his drink, and Theron slouched back into the warmth of the booth, content to rest for a while longer yet.

“So…how did your…ah…the Grandmaster take it?” Theron smirked at that, and Jonas groaned.

“Let me guess, she hated it too?”

“With a passion. Apparently, all the Shans have been…rather combative since then, I wonder why, and so the Order kept that vid in safe keeping for any future Shans to watch and ‘learn from’. Which…really, has never worked. She thought it was the funniest fucking thing and that was the most bonding we had in years, pretty much since I was born. She patched me up as we talked about it, might just make a habit of spending time with her after all, especially since she’s mellowed out with age.”

“…Wow, I never would have guessed that that would be the outcome of all of that…but what about your old master? I know you lost him before all of this…” Theron gazed out over the cantina, and felt a faint smile touch his lips in fond memory.

“…Master Zho would be proud.”

[feminaexlux]

Branded

It’s the @lukanette-exchange fic! After a long while it’s here!! @kingsglaivian I hope you enjoy! Also thanks to LBSC and @quickspinner in particular for finding the cool soulmark prompt lol

I am super, super excited to share this with you!

Original prompts: “childhood friends AU, soulmate AU, and an AU of the exchangee's choice.”

∴

It’d been just a few minutes after they first met when she first wrote her name on him.

She had come closer and stared over his shoulder when she saw he’d been drawing something. Was it a drawing? It looked like he had been drawing circles on a bunch of lines. Oh, Maman had showed her how music was written, it was music! “Hi! Are you drawing music?” She had asked cheerfully.

The boy had startled, apparently not having seen Marinette earlier. His pencil had marked across the entire page. “Aah!”

“Oh no!” Marinette whined. “You messed up!”

“Y-you made me do that,” he frowned. “You scared me.”

“Are you drawing music?” Marinette continued asking.

“Oh, yeah, yeah I am,” he said, turning the pencil around and erasing the errant mark. “I think about music all the time.”

“So what does that mean?” she asked, poking at his paper.

“That’s uh… that's…” he thought a bit. “I think that’s D and the next one is F and another D but this one’s higher. It’s a song from a video game.”

“You play video games?! Papa and I play games too!”

They talked back and forth about a bunch of different little things and he completely forgot what he’d been doing. Then it got to the point where Marinette had pulled out one of her markers and started writing her name on his arm. “– and if stays tomorrow it means you found your true love!” Marinette smiled up at the boy she’d been talking to. He looked like he was a few years older. Maybe he was even 10? Maybe he was younger, he looked really kinda small to be 10.

She was at the playground next to her family’s bakery. She’d been running around and playing with a few other kids there, but she saw this one boy sitting by a tree in the shade. He looked like he was alone and Marinette wondered if he’d been bullied. She knew what that was like, even at the tender age of 5. But it was easy to talk to this boy, he was much less Crazy Mean Boy than Kim was. He was more like Nino! And Nino was nice.

“Is that your name?” the boy asked, staring at her neatly written letters. “Marinette?”

“Yeah!”

“So if it stays tomorrow you’re my true love?” He asked, confused. “Mom told me that writing names on other people is bad… But why?”

“Maman and Papa have their names on each other’s arms,” Marinette said. “It’s not bad! Oh but you have to draw over it ‘cause it’s important that you do it,” Marinette added.

“Why?”

“It’s important,” she clarified. It looked like he was going to keep asking why until his mom called out.

“Ay laddie, it’s time to go,” a lady with a long braid said in their general direction. She had a girl on her hip and was walking over to the boy. “Why hello there lass, are ye makin’ friends with me boy?”

“I’m Marinette,” she said up to the lady. She wasn’t Lass, she wanted to say.

Marinette saw the boy quickly pull down his sleeves from his hoodie to hide her name. “Itwasnicetomeetyoubye,” he said quickly, before Marinette could whine about him hiding her name. He ran away to hold onto his mom’s hand. “Let’s go mom,” he continued, pulling his mom away in a slightly embarrassed fashion.

“Don’t ye want to say farewell? We won’t be ashore fer a while son.” Well, she didn’t know at the time he had wanted to run away and hide so the nice new girl wouldn’t be weirded out by his mom like most people were.

“See you tomorrow!” Marinette yelled after him.

She didn’t.

∴

It’d been just a few days after they first met.

Luka scrubbed and scrubbed at the M on his wrist but it wasn’t coming out. He’d scrubbed himself raw at the sink, his flesh feeling tender and his skin close to bleeding. He’d written over the girl’s marker with a pen a few days ago, idly curious if the mark would stay. At least he’d written over just the M, thinking about the nice girl who’d been curious about him.

“Luka?” He heard his mom call out. No, no, no. It wasn’t coming out and his mom would see it and she’d freak out and he’d have to make an excuse or find some of her makeup or something. He’d been told to take off his hoodie by… that man and so he ran back to the bathroom to try to do something about the M on his wrist.

Anarka opened the door. “Luka, my boy what are ye–” Oh no oh no she saw the mark. He put his hands back in the sink and kept scrubbing, starting to cry. “Luka what…” His mom started, initially alarmed and then… and then she came over to hug him.

“Mom what do I do?” He cried. “It’s not coming out!”

“Who'd… no, it doesn’t matter. Luka stop doing that, it’s not going to come out. It doesn’t, lad.” His mom took his hands from the sink and started to dry them. “It stays no matter how hard ye try to get rid o’ it.” She spoke to him with the rare moment of solemnity. “Ye'e been Branded, and there’s nothin we can do about it.”

“I don’t wanna be Branded!” he wailed.

In a quiet, heated hiss Anarka whispered “This is why I told ye to never write names on yerself!” She looked at her son crying and sighed, shaking her head. Luka would realize later she’d been more disappointed in herself that she’d let him get Branded like he did. She thought she warned him, but how could she blame him for something no one ever thought would happen at 7 years old?

Who finds their soulmate at 7?

But it’d be a shackle for the rest of his life. Luka would grow up wondering if this M would ever be part of his life again, whether M would even want to be his partner. If he did find someone else to be his partner, they’d wonder if they’d ever be loved like whoever this M was. “Here,” Anarka sighed. “Ye can’t get rid of that Luka. But ye can cover it. Forget about it now, lad,” she said gently, taking off the wide leather cuff she had on that had covered her own Brand. “This 'ere’s yers now. I’ll get ye all freshened up. Granpa’s waitin for us,” Anarka said, pasting on a fake smile.

Luka hated that man. He was angry and hateful and mean, but Anarka had wanted to see her own Ma again, to have her Ma help guide Anarka in the raising of two children Anarka never originally planned to have. Granma was nice. But Granpa? No. Luka swore to himself he’d never be like Granpa.

His mom put the cuff around Luka’s Brand, looping twice to fit the small wrist better. “All covered up now. Is that fitting, Luka?” He nodded, staring at the “S” on his mom’s wrist.

“Was… that dad?” Luka asked, pointing at the Brand.

Anarka laughed. “It stands for Scotland,” she said lightly. “It stands for the Sea. It’s not yer da, no,” Anarka lied.

∴

It’d been a few weeks since Marinette met Adrien Agreste.

She’d been convinced Adrien was her True Love, and was continually disappointed every morning when his name disappeared off of her arm. “Tikki, it disappeared again,” Marinette sighed.

Tikki shrugged. “Maybe he’s not ready?” The Kwami had seen this before. The Brands were a form of magic that humans had that linked two souls together, signaling that they’d found their soul’s mate. A person would have to write another’s True Name on themselves somewhere, and it would disappear at sunrise if it wasn’t meant to be. Sometimes, though, it depended on if the other person was even capable of loving back. A Brand that had disappeared earlier might “take” later, when the soulmate was ready.

Tikki wasn’t sure if it was a good thing for Marinette that Adrien wasn’t capable of loving Marinette back yet. Maybe Adrien had a different name? The kwami wasn’t going to put forth the suggestion that it might not be Adrien at all. Marinette seemed convinced, and Tikki knew better than to doubt her bearers.

Marinette’s parents proudly wore the names they had on their arms, a very simple “Tom” on Sabine’s wrist and a beautifully formed script of “Sabine” scrawled across Tom’s massive forearm. Of course it simply encouraged Marinette into writing several names on her own arms throughout the years, even if most people found writing names on themselves taboo.

Recently, though, it’d just been Adrien’s.

None of the attempts ever stuck.

“It’ll happen one day!” Tikki said cheerfully. “I believe that you’ll find your soulmate one day. But right now you should get ready for school!”

∴

It’d been a few months after Juleka showed him that the picture curse was broken that he met the girl that’d been able to break it.

“I’m Ma-ma-ma-Marinette!”

He’d laughed a little and it hurt her feelings. Good job, Luka, that was a great first impression. Luckily he was able to apologize and smooth it over.

It tickled him, just a little bit, that he’d met another “M” in his life that he actually ended up liking. He ended up liking her a whole lot, which… ultimately kinda sucked because she’d been interested in someone else. Well, that was alright. He’d been used to the idea that he’d never find “the one” since he technically already had and lost them so many years ago.

But this one? This “M”? She was pretty cool and he found himself more interested than he’d ever been in anyone before.

There’d been one other “M” in his life a couple of years ago before his mom decided to move them all back to France, and Paris in particular. Her name had been Meryl and she was a pretty awesome girl, but she’d been several years older and already in University. She’d still given Luka some attention though, apparently finding it cute that she had a boy doting on her like he did. She was nice and she said he’d look good with some blue in his hair, and it’d been the last thing she said to him before she found herself her own soulmate. It hadn’t been Luka, of course.

He’d gotten into a fight with Granpa over his hair after Luka had dyed it. Juleka joined him by dying her hair purple. Anarka had finally had enough of her and her kids being put down and said she was going to go back “home”. It’d been a hard conversation with Granpa, but after Granma had passed Anarka and her kids had little reason to stick around in their Scottish family house. Anarka’s little wildlings were less little, and Juleka and Luka were both in their tweens to teens, largely old enough to handle themselves now.

Anarka had found some nearly-derelict fishing barge and spent a few weeks with her kids fixing up the ship, making it their new house, and they left Scotland as soon as they could. She sailed the newly christened Liberty back into Parisian waters, claiming the Seine as her new home. She gave a little wink to Luka, a nod to the new “S” in Anarka’s life that her Brand now represented.

It’d been good to see his mom coming back into her old self, the wild, chaotic, free spirit that she’d always been. He was no longer embarrassed of her like he’d been so many years ago. And he had to be honest to himself, the boat wasn’t the first choice he’d make in having a place to come home to, but something about Paris just felt right.

Juleka had been feeling better too. The younger Couffaines had been under their Granpa’s oppressive shadow for too long. And now they were slowly discovering more of themselves over time.

Rose was one of the first friends Juleka had made after coming back to Paris a few years ago, and they were “best friends” since. Today, Juleka showed him a neatly written “Rose” in a flourishing script on the back of her right hand. Juleka apparently hadn’t minded getting the Brand at all. “Marinette did this too,” Juleka smiled. “She’s been drawing names for people who ask. It’s so cool,” Juleka mumbled.

“She’s amazing,” Luka said out loud. Jules gave him a look and even he couldn’t figure out what it meant. “What?”

“She’s got eyes on Adrien, you know.”

“I’ve heard your schemes, I know.”

“I’m on team Adrienette.”

“Alright.”

“She deserves to be happy.”

“Sounds good.”

“It’d be weird if you two dated, anyway.”

“But we’re not dating. She doesn’t seem to notice me.”

Jules frowned at that and grumbled something that sounded to Luka like “she notices and it’s weird.”

He thought to himself, Not where it matters.

∴

It’d been a year since Adrien lost his mother, and Marinette finally said the words “I love you” to him.

Yes, it was a video recording and yes, Felix had apparently gone through and deleted it before Adrien ever got to see it, but she’d done it! She’d done the thing! She could do it again! It had to be easier the second time, right? The second… time.

She couldn’t bring herself to do it. It’d been nearly a full year of her attempting Adrien’s name on her arm, and nothing changed. She’d stayed up and watched it fade out when the sunlight hit it during a few fitful mornings. She wrote his name so often it stopped looking like a word and more like a familiar pattern. Just shapes and no meaning.

Marinette had tried out a few different names over the year as well, just so she’d be certain… in a slightly unsettling way. She kept it discreet, writing on her ankle or in another place easy to cover up in case it was… taking. She’d written “Nathaniel”, once. It disappeared. She’d written “Chat Noir” and nearly sighed in relief (and maybe deep down in slight surprise) when it disappeared. Not that it was his real name anyway.

She’d secretly tried “Nino” once, even though he and Alya had gotten together. It hadn’t stuck. Nino and Alya hadn’t asked for Marinette to write each other’s names down, and maybe… maybe that was actually healthy? Like they didn’t need any external validation in order to really enjoy time spent with each other.

There might have been a lesson in that.

She tried “Kim” and “Wayhem” and “Theo”, even though the last one kinda creeped her out a bit. She tried “Kagami.” Nothing stuck.

There was still one name she hadn’t tried but… but she’d been absolutely terrified of it. Luka had more or less admitted to the world at large that he loved her after he’d gotten akumatized. There’d been genuine affection that was unfiltered, unbiased, uninfluenced by whatever the magic was that made names stay on people. He didn’t seem to mind that she was so, so into Adrien. Even if she wasn’t his soulmate, he’d love her.

S-So she’d be able to do that for Adrien! Yes, that made sense. Yes, that soulmate stuff was all kid fantasy anyway. Even if it was demonstratively real.

But if Adrien found his soulmate and it wasn’t Marinette… what was she supposed to do? Just step out of the way?

∴

It’d been a decade since Marinette and Luka first met except neither remembered that first time when they were young children, even if they’d been in the same place: the park nearby the bakery.

He’d held onto her as she broke down crying about the heartbreak and how tired she was. Luka told her he’d listen and be there and hadn’t lied about any of it. It was why she chose to sit next to him after letting her infatuation go and stepping out of the way for Kagami, watching Adrien and Kagami have their Sweetheart’s ice cream together like it was always meant to be Adrien and Kagami instead of Adrien and Marinette.

Marinette chose to sit next to Luka instead of going home.

She went to bed that night deciding that the whole names and soulmates and True Love thing was just a big huge distraction from what she really needed to focus on, which was getting through school, defeating Hawkmoth, and getting her name out there as an up and coming Fashion Designer!

It lasted all of 3 days until she finally gave into her curiosity and wrote an L in the crook of her left arm before going to bed. She really had meant to write out the rest of his name, but then her phone buzzed and there’d been an akuma alert. She sighed and rolled into action.

Her Lucky Charm gave her a guitar pick. That was a little too on-the-nose, Tikki? Ladybug zipped over to the Liberty, somehow not surprised that Luka was still up and leaning against the Liberty to overlook the Seine, looking cool and thoughtful. Actually, scratch that. He looked a little haggard and worried, and he’d been expecting to see Ladybug. Well, at least it meant she didn’t have to go in and wake him up.

“… you must return the Miraculous after…” Ladybug trailed off, noticing as Luka reached out to take the bracelet that he hadn’t been wearing any of the normal… accessories he chose to wear most of the time, most notably the leather cuff he usually had on. Something bothered her and she caught his hand before he touched the bracelet. She turned his right hand over and looked at the pen mark on his wrist. “Is that an M or an E?”

Luka pulled back his hand immediately, embarrassed. “An… M,” he said reluctantly.

Then Ladybug remembered it’d been incredibly rude of her to ask. “Oh, I’m so sorry I-I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It's… been 10 years since I got that, I don’t even remember much about it,” he shrugged.

Ladybug smiled, biting back a sudden urge to scream, and offered Luka the snake Miraculous again. “If you agree… I’d like your help, Luka.”

Ladybug, Chat Noir, and Viperion were able to save the night and have everyone able to go to bed on time. She picked the Miraculous back up from Viperion, who seemed to be confused the akuma victim wasn’t who he’d expected it to be. “Anything wrong, Luka?”

“No… no, I’m glad I was able to help. I’m okay,” he said, clearly still a bit frazzled. Ladybug furrowed her eyebrows at him and he eventually sighed. “I guess I’m worried about a… friend. She’d been going through a lot so I’d been… I’d been waiting to see if she’d either call me or… or God, I don’t know,” he laughed, a little bit in disbelief. “I almost thought she’d been akumatized tonight. I’m so glad it wasn’t her. But it kinda makes me feel like crap for even thinking that.”

“It’s kind to be worried about your friend. W-Which friend by the way?” Ladybug asked. “I could pay her a visit if you’d like?”

“I don’t know if she’d appreciate that, actually,” he sighed. “She can kill me later if she wants, but yeah it’d be great if you’d check up on her. It’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Instead of being worried that Luka was worried over her, she asked “Is she your M?” Ladybug got blindsided by her own question, but she only felt the impact and implication after she asked it. “Oh no, no, I’m so sorry I’ve been so rude.”

He blew out a breath. “I wish,” he mumbled. “I don’t know,” he said, his tiredness making him slightly more obvious about being miserable. “I guess I could know for sure by writing out her name.” That was said like he had been convinced it’d disappear…

“I’m pretty good at writing out names. If you want I could write… the rest of her name out on your arm?” Ladybug offered impulsively.

“… Sure,” he agreed. He watched her as she grabbed a nearby marker and wrote out Marinette on his arm. “Wow, that… looks pretty dead on to her signature.”

“Pfft,” Ladybug laughed. “That’d be the worst identity reveal ever. Marinette’s signed a few things for me too, I’ll have you know.”

“You might have a future in crime with your forging skills if you ever decide to stop being a hero,” Luka chuckled.

“I’ll stick to saving Paris, don’t worry,” Ladybug giggled. “You do have to write over it yourself if you want it to stay. I mean… if she is… you know…”

Luka nodded. “I know. Probably a long shot. Thanks,” he said.

“I’ll check up on her. Thank you for caring, Luka,” Ladybug smiled. “And you know, I’ve got a good feeling about this one,” she said quietly, biting her lip while tapping his arm. “I’ll be off. Have a good night, 'Bug out!”

Ladybug landed in her bed and detransformed. Tikki floated back to her little nesting spot while the kwami watched Marinette pull out her phone.

hey luka just got a visit from LB! thanks for thinking of me

Marinette looked down into the crook of her arm, grabbing a marker and filling out the rest of Luka’s name. She’d recognized that M on his arm.

Had it really been 10 years when she first met him? It was kind of funny that she didn’t remember until now. He hadn’t given his name back then but she remembered the disappointment the next day when her new friend didn’t show.

Had it really been a whole year of writing… the wrong name on herself?

It’d been months since Luka told her she’d been the melody in his head. Months.

And she had spent a week in heartbreak over the wrong boy.

It’d just been a few days since she decided she was going to let Adrien go. And she found her soulmate after that? How lucky was she? Marinette looked up at the sleeping Tikki and squinted suspiciously. Maybe she was Lucky™, except that she had apparently met Luka when she was 5.

Marinette stared at her phone, watching the minutes go by. She wasn’t going to be able to sleep tonight.

The sun rose after an agonizingly boring time of rolling back and forth in her bed, too excited to go to sleep but too tired to do anything productive. She kept checking the name on her arm and it’d still been there all throughout the night, but now at first light… she was… scared. She closed her eyes and covered her head with her pillow, half dreading what she’d see if she looked down at her left arm where she wrote his name.

“It’ll be there,” she said to herself, feeling more certain of that than anything. The warmth of sunlight hit her left arm. She lifted the pillow off of her face but kept her eyes closed. Slowly she opened one eye.

His name was still there. “It’s you,” she whispered, feeling the tears fall from her eyes.

She launched herself out of bed, turning into a little hurricane of activity. She threw her jacket on and ran downstairs, kissing her Maman and Papa on the cheek and telling them she’d be out for a while. They’d been too surprised to see her up at the crack of dawn to complain much, just insisting that she take her phone with her and that she wear proper shoes.

She ran down to the subway entrance and guessed the nearest station where Liberty would be moored, taking the subway train there. She emerged from an entrance about 10 minutes later, ignoring the confused looks the other commuters shot her since she’d been a mess of pigtails and pajamas. She ran toward the Liberty, climbed up and leapt over the railing onto the ship when she saw that the gangplank wasn’t extended.

“Marinette!” she heard Luka’s alarmed shout. She knew he’d be up. She knew it! He ran over to her. “What the heck–” He’d been wearing a different hoodie, a long sleeved one that covered up both his arms. She frowned at him, noticing the dark circles under his eyes.

“You’re up early,” she said.

“S-So are you! And you’re-you’re here? What’s wrong?” His voice had dropped from a high pitched panic to his deeper, concerned tone in the span of two words.

She took off her jacket and extended her left arm. She saw him flush but start pulling up his hoodie from the hem, taking it off and tossing it aside. He turned his right palm up to show her the name written across his forearm.

Their names had stayed. He breathed out. “Did Ladyb–” She cut him off, her hands on either side of his face to pull him down, planting a kiss on his lips. They pulled back a second after, looking at one another in surprise.

“It’s you,” she said, resting her forehead against his shoulder. To be honest she’d been embarrassed that she’d just kissed him in the disheveled state she was in, having left to see him as soon as she got out of bed, but she felt giddy and… right.

He pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her to hug her tight. “And… it’s you.”

[iforgotmypreviousaccountlol]

Starting Line

Happy Holidays, @carson-asmo-lover 

This is your Secret Santa gift. I hope you like it!

AU: Asmo is a uni student who just moved into a new apartment unit, Solomon is living next door learning how to bake. Every day, Asmo would smell the sweet aroma of baked goods from his room and in the hallways. One day, after a hectic day from uni, he stops in front of the door trying to guess which baked good is being made for that day. The door opens, cue awkward silence, Solomon invites Asmo into his apartment, and into his life.

ASMO

There, there it is again. Asmodeus glanced at his wall clock. Right on time: 2 o’clock in the afternoon. The sweet smell of sugar and pastry permeated his room. His next-door neighbour is baking again. He closed his eyes and inhaled, trying to take a guess which pastry his neighbour decided to make today. It has been a good past-time for whenever he found himself bored on some days when he doesn’t have uni classes. Not that he had nothing better to do, he had to catch up on a lot of schoolworks but he isn’t in the mood to do them right now.

He moved in just a few months ago so he could be closer to school, but now that he enjoyed the new-found freedom that is living alone, he realized he missed the constant presence of his brothers. Sure, having his own place meant that Lucifer wasn’t around to nag him when he goes out to party most nights, or if he brings people back to his place for some night escapades (He never did bring someone over though. Maybe he should.) He made a mental note to go home for the weekend if the workload permits.

“Cinnamon rolls,” he finally said, propping up from the couch. The sweet smell of the cinnamon powder that contrasted with the slightly sour cream cheese made Asmo’s mouth water. He groaned. “If you’re gonna make pastries, at least offer some to your neighbours so we don’t get hungry from the smell.”

Now he has no choice but to go down and buy something sweet to satisfy his craving. He put on a peach sweater and wrapped a white scarf around his neck. He stared at his reflection for a moment. His champagne-colored hair was longer on one side, stylishly swept to frame his face. His diamond stud earring reflected light when he turned his face in a certain angle. “Alright, enough. I look stunning, as always.”

He wrinkled his nose at his neighbour’s door when he passed on his way out, the smell of cinnamon is much stronger in the hallway. He hadn’t even met the mysterious baker, given that he’s almost always out to some party when he isn’t in class, it’s strange that they never even once bumped into each other in the lobby or the elevator. He shrugged and went on his way to hunt for some cinnamon rolls.

 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 Asmo was almost dragging himself back to his condo unit after a hectic morning. He had a 3-hour lecture for Fashion Marketing and he had to pass a 10-page essay on Fashion Theory (which of course, he crammed last night. He even skipped a campus party!) and he’s just about ready to pass out and is determined to take a long nap for the whole afternoon. That would have been a solid plan, except it’s 2 o’clock in the afternoon and the scent of baked sweets wafted from his neighbour’s room and into the hallway.

He stopped on his tracks and inhaled the scent, his brain immediately fell to its routine, trying to discern which ingredients are being used to create what pastry. “Milk, definitely. What else? Eggs? And oh—”

The door suddenly opened. Asmo jerked back in surprise, his hand latched to the strap of his sling bag. He blinked once, twice.

A tall man with silvery-white hair with stunning blue-gray eyes, wearing a black turtleneck with sleeves rolled up to his elbows and white apron, came out of the room carrying a small trash bag. Asmo was never one to be at a loss for words, especially not in front of attractive people, but his tongue refused to make an audible sound.

“Oh, hello. I suppose you’re my neighbour? I believe this is the first time we’re meeting each other?” The man continued, “I’m Solomon.”

Asmo shook off his surprise and cleared his throat. He wore his usual disarming smile and nodded at him. “Asmodeus. I just came back from school, I was just, uh,” he said while gesturing to his unit’s door.

“I see.”

Awkward silence filled the space between and around them. Asmo noticed a faint sprinkle of flour on Solomon’s right cheek, he clamped down the urge to reach in and dust it off.

The fire alarm started beeping causing the two to jolt in surprise. Solomon raced to the trash chute, dumped the trash bag and raced back inside his room to turn off the oven. Asmo stood unmoving to the doorway. He wondered if he should offer help.

Thick smoke came out of the oven when Solomon opened it, he fanned the oven with a mitt. The fire alarm hasn’t stopped beeping so Asmo mindlessly stepped inside and grabbed the nearest flat object (which happened to be a pan of piped cream puff dough) to fan the alarm component on the ceiling. He honestly had no idea what he’s doing. The piped dough from the baking pan fell and scattered on the floor, one even hitting him right on the cheek.

“Oh. It stopped,” he commented, the pan still raised over his head.

Asmo glanced at Solomon who was still kneeling in front of the oven and saw that a bunch of dough pieces is now strewn around the kitchen floor. A solitary piece of dough stuck on the baking sheet finally gave up and dropped on Asmo’s forehead. He blinked slowly, unsure on how to react.

Solomon snorted, obviously trying but miserably failing to hold back a laugh. Asmo flicked away the dough which earned a chuckle from Solomon, which in turn triggered Asmo to burst into laughter.

“Sorry, that was… not funny.” Solomon said in between laughs.

Asmo doubled over. He wiped a tear that escaped his eye from laughing and said, “It kinda was.”

“Listen, why don’t you sit and clean yourself up. I’ll just tidy up for a bit and we could enjoy the successful batch I made earlier. Think of it as a welcoming present.”

Asmo considered it for a moment. Sleep or… this? “Sure.”

Solomon smiled, and started cleaning up the mess.

Asmo pulled out a chair and sat. His rose and gold eyes followed Solomon’s movement. It mesmerized him; the grace in his movements, certain and self-assured. He stared so hard he didn’t even notice that Solomon was already standing in front of him asking something.

He shook his head a tiny bit. “I’m sorry, come again?”

Solomon chuckled. His chuckle sent a shiver down Asmo’s spine.

“I asked if you would like tea or coffee. To pair with the cream puffs.”

“Tea, please. With milk.”

Solomon nodded and proceeded to the kitchen counter to make the tea. Asmo wanted to face palm and cringe. Why is he acting this way?

“So… tell me about yourself,” Solomon said.

Asmo paused. In any other instances, he would’ve already started talking about himself without even needing to be prompted. Why is it that he can’t think of something interesting to tell this guy?

“Why don’t we talk about you first?” Asmo deflected the question.

That earned another smile from the fair-haired man. He brought the cooling rack containing the cream puffs and a tray of tea and cups.

“What do you want to know?”

Everything, Asmo thought. Instead he asked, “What’s your major?”

“Chemistry. You?”

Huh, that surprisingly fits him. “Fashion design. Why are you always baking?”

Solomon sipped his tea. “I promised my little brother Luke I would teach him how to bake. You see, a friend of mine, Barbatos went overseas for a job. He was the one who was supposed to teach Luke. But since he can’t, I decided to give it a go.”

“That’s incredibly nice of you.”

“Thank you. For now I still need to watch videos and study the recipe but I think I’m starting to get the hang of it. Well, except for the incident earlier.”

Asmo nodded. The cream puffs looked so good he wanted to pull out his phone and post it on his Instagram but he stopped himself. He reached for one and popped it into his mouth.

The milky taste and the slight crisp of the puff blended well, it tasted divine—Asmo’s thoughts stopped at the same time he stopped chewing. WHAT IS THAT? It’s bitter and spicy and sour, flavor after flavor assaulted his taste buds faster than his brain can process the actual taste of the pastry.

He looked at Solomon, the latter clearly expecting a comment or reaction from him. Good thing he quickly managed his expression. He smiled, the cream puff still stuck on the roof of his mouth.

He was saved by the ringing of Solomon’s phone. When Solomon turned his back to reach for his phone, he quickly spit out the pastry on his handkerchief and stowed it on his bag’s pocket.

Solomon’s eyes widened slightly at him when he saw him gulped down his tea as a desperate attempt to wash out the aftertaste. “You sure are thirsty. More tea?” Solomon offered.

“I am. Yes, please.” Asmo nodded vigorously.

“So, what can you say about the cream puffs? It’s my first time so I can understand if they didn’t turn out perfect.”

That would be the understatement of the year, Asmo thought. He also dreaded the question. To tell or not to tell? “Do you have any more of the strawberry tart you made the other day?”

“How did you know I made some?”

“Please. Everyone on this floor probably knows what you’re baking every day.”

Solomon chuckled and proceeded to get a strawberry tart from his fridge.

Asmo swallowed, bracing himself. Just a small bite. A chaos of flavors.

He placed his palms flat on the table for 10 seconds then rushed to the sink to spit out the tart and gargle water. “What the hell was that?”

Solomon raised an eyebrow at him. “What do you mean? It tastes normal to me.”

Asmo’s jaw fell when he saw Solomon eating his tart with no problem, enjoying it even. He can’t believe he spent his days craving for sweets his neighbour baked when in reality they taste this atrocious.

“That’s it, Solomon. You’re not allowed to bake anymore,” Asmo said, shaking his head.

“Huh? I thought I was doing fine. I really need to learn though, I can’t disappoint Luke.”

Asmo bit his lip, considering. He sighed. “Fine. You can bake all you want, but never without me. I’ll oversee whatever you’re doing to make sure you never end up making those… those unidentifiable monstrosities again!”

Solomon smiled; in his grey-blue eyes, Asmo saw wonders, and potential, and… a future. “Deal.”

SOLOMON

Solomon checked his watch. It’s Friday and Asmo will be coming over in a minute or two. It’s already been more than a month since they started their “baking lessons.” Granted, it’s not every day; it’s only twice a week, thrice when their schedule permits. But would it be a stretch if he admitted to himself that the highlight of his weeks are the days when Asmodeus comes over to watch him work?

A knock interrupted his thoughts. He should just give Asmo a spare key, he thought while walking towards the door.

“You’ll never guess what happened in class today! So see, I crammed a paper again last night so I almost came late for class. Our professor for that class was Professor Simeon, you know? He’s wonderful but can be very strict so I didn’t want to be late and be scolded but then, on the way to the classroom…”

Solomon’s lips tugged at the corner as he watched Asmo lament about his tiring day at school. His strawberry champagne bangs swept stylishly, slightly messed up by the wind. His gold and ruby eyes sparkling along with his words and gestures. Asmo always looked alive to him. No, not the usual alive as in living. Really alive. Maybe that’s what happens when you know to find love in everything.

“Anyway, what are we making today?” Asmo finished, hanging his white coat on the rack near the door.

We. It shouldn’t have sounded as nice as it did. “We,” he said the word with maybe a bit more excitement than warranted, “are making red velvet cake.”

“All right! That’s great. I love red velvet.”

“I already prepared—”

He stopped because of the irritation that flashed in Asmo’s eyes. He bit his lower lip to suppress a smile.

“Throw it out.”

“That would be a waste. At least try out the batter before rejecting it.”

Asmo put both his hands on Solomon’s shoulders and looked at him seriously, emphasizing his words, “Solomon, I know for a fact that you are an amazing and smart chemist, but you’re hopeless in the kitchen.”

Solomon laughed which earned a chuckle from Asmo. “No, no, I didn’t add any suspicious ingredients this time. I swear. I followed the instructions word for word.”

Asmo begrudgingly took a spoon and tasted the batter.

“Good?”

He shrugged. “Surprisingly.”

It was two weeks ago when Asmo finally figured out what he was doing wrong all this time. Solomon had a bad habit of experimenting with ingredients, most likely because of his chemistry experiments. But even after figuring out what’s the problem, Asmo continued supervising his baking. Not that he’s complaining, and not that he would ever ask the arrangement to be over. He would never admit it out loud, but he liked having Asmodeus over.

Solomon started whipping the frosting with a hand mixer while Asmo stayed close to watch him. It took a lot to focus and not glance on his side.

Asmo said, “Hey, you got a little something—”

His eyes met Asmo’s in time as Asmo’s fingers dusted something from his cheek. They stayed frozen in time for a moment; staring at each other, Asmo’s fingers barely grazing Solomon’s cheek.

The moment would’ve lasted longer if the mixer’s whisk attachment hit the side of the bowl in a wrong angle and sprayed both of them with frosting. They blinked at each other before bursting into laughter.

“Kitchen blunders for the nth time,” Solomon joked.

Asmo pulled out his phone and suggested they take a picture, Solomon let Asmo take their “selfie.” After Asmo was satisfied with the pictures, Solomon reached for a paper towel to wipe frosting from Asmo’s usual immaculately beautiful face.

After the cake cooled, Asmo helped design the frosting. He also took pictures to post on his Instagram. Solomon made an account last week just to look at the pictures occasionally. The photo of the cake earned hundreds of likes and comments in minutes. Well, that can’t be helped, Asmo is a popular guy. Solomon would be too if he actually bothered to socialize, but he found it rather exhausting to deal with people he’s not interested in.

“Hey, could you send me our picture from earlier?” Sol said.

“Oh yeah, sure.” Asmo fiddled with his phone. “…And sent.”

“Thank you,” Solomon replied.

They settled down on the table to eat the cake they made and have some tea. They talked about their days and their upcoming exams. Eventually, the sun started setting. Its golden rays streaming from the window, dyeing the room in a soft orange hue.

“I think you’re okay now, Solomon. Remember to just always follow the instructions and don’t add any unnecessary ingredients to whatever you’re cooking or baking, and it’ll turn out fine.”

Solomon raised an eyebrow. He pushed away the idea that Asmo will now stop coming over because they already eliminated the cause of the weird taste (which isn’t actually weird for him).

“It's a force of habit. I’m always curious so I can’t stop myself from experimenting with things.”

“I guess…”

“Why, am I eating up too much of your time?” He asked.

“Of course not. I like spending time with you, Solomon.” Asmo’s cheeks flushed a bit.

Solomon sipped his tea.

Asmo took the small window of silence to change the topic. “Anyway, I got a call from Mammon the other day and guess what? He’s appearing in a mag—”

“Me too,” he interrupted.

“Hmm?”

“I like spending time with you too.”

Asmo was caught off-guard but eventually smiled. He reached for his bag and pulled out a silver box with a champagne-colored ribbon. “By the way, here.”

Solomon’s brows wrinkled. “What’s this?”

“Happy Birthday, Solomon.”

“How did you—”

Asmo winked at him. “Information comes easily when you have a lot of friends.” Asmo laughed and continued, “Kidding. I’m in the same class as Meph, he works in the registrar’s office as an assistant so I asked him. I had to do him some favours, but eh, it’s worth it.”

“Thank you, Asmo. Really.”

Asmo’s phone beeped, he looked at his notifications. His eyes widened a fraction.

Solomon smiled. He had an idea why Asmo was surprised. He glanced on his own phone, notifications pouring in fast. He clicked on a post, his first one ever.

It’s a photo Asmo took of them earlier. Asmo, lively as always, was throwing a peace sign while winking, his ruby and gold eyes full of wonder; Solomon, his blue-grey eyes a pool of mystery, was smiling a bit, looking at him contentedly. The caption? Best birthday with ‘that special someone.’

His phone chimed, a notification appeared on top of his screen: Asmodeus liked your photo.

[kerikaaria]

If I Never Met You: Chapter 30

(??? X Reader) Idol!AU, Manager!Reader

Genre: (PG13) FLUFF

WC: 3.3k

Warnings: None

Series Masterlist

Chapter 29 | Chapter 30 | Chapter 31

Chim: Seokjinnie hyuuuuuuung~ Where are yooooouuuuu?

Taetae: What do you mean? He was right… OH NO, HE’S GONE!

Joonie: I saw him in the kitchen making some food earlier.

Chim: Yeah, well he’s not there anymore. I can’t find him anywhere. Where did he go?

Yoongi: Does it matter? It’s our day off.

Chim: OF COURSE IT MATTERS!

Taetae: We have no idea where he is!

Chim: What if he’s been kidnapped?!

Taetae: Who knows what could be happening to him right now as we speak!

Hobi: There they go sharing one braincell again…

You stared at your phone, not surprised in the least at the source of the many notification sounds you received in the last minute alone. Jin was looking at his phone as well, shaking his head at the antics of his younger brothers.

“Did you forget to tell them we had plans today?” you asked, even though the answer was obvious.

“Guess so,” Jin chuckled as he typed in the group chat to let them know he was okay before Taehyung and Jimin sent a search party out for him.

The two of you had been walking along a beach you came across, just relaxing and enjoying the view and each other’s company when your phones started to get blown up. As you slowly progressed down the sand, not quite close enough to the waves to need to worry about your shoes getting wet, Jin continued to be preoccupied by his phone.

Just as you were about to tease him for paying more attention to the device than you, he suddenly laughing hard enough that he stopped in his tracks. You stopped as well, turning to him with your eyebrows raised, silently questioning what was so funny.

He eventually looked up at you, needing to suppress more laughing so he could manage to get out what was entertaining him so much. “Some fans really have the eyes of hawks. Not even censoring faces of the staff in videos stops them,” he said. Of course, that didn’t explain much, so you waited for him to further explain.

“I just came across this profile on twitter,” he said. “It tracks all the times that you’re caught in pictures that fans take of us. And also when you, or what fans think to be you, interact with us or are in the shot in videos. And that led me to finding a gold mine of tweets with fans gushing about our interactions and shipping you with the different members.”

Your eyes widened, almost comically. “W-What?!”

Jin resumed his laughing fit, but managed to turn his phone towards you to show you what he was talking about. And sure enough, you saw exactly what Jin described. A picture one fan caught of Hoseok at an airport with you standing next to him, and a bunch of comments mostly fangirling over shipping the two of you.

The sight under any of the other pictures this profile tweeted was identical, some even inciting small arguments between fans who thought that you would be better fit with a different member of the group.

“It seems like the popular one to ship you with this week is Namjoon,” Jin said once he was able to regain his composure once more. “Apparently the two of you had a lot of chemistry in this one clip where your blurred face seemed to be looking at him in a Bangtan Bomb.”

Your mind went blank as you slowly returned the phone to its owner, having trouble comprehending the fact that this was actually a thing. Were you surprised that there was some shipping going on? Not particularly. The fans knew who you were and that you were with the boys all the time, so it wasn’t a stretch to assume there were those who would wonder if you dated any of them.

But seeing that there was an account dedicated to spotting you in videos and pictures, and that spurred a whole mini community in the fandom that enjoys shipping you with any and all of them? That was crazy to come to terms with existing.

��Aw, don’t be disappointed Y/n,” Jin said after you didn’t respond, probably for longer than socially acceptable while you still sorted your thoughts on the matter. “There seem to be quite a lot of them who like the idea of me and you.”

Your head resumed normal functionality to snap and look at him. “Why do you say that like that’s a good thing?” you asked.

He grinned as he continued ahead of you, walking backwards to see your expression as he teased you. “Oh come on, you can’t tell me you wouldn’t enjoy being shipped with my handsome face.”

You rushed toward him, and he broke into a smile, laughing as he turned around to run away from you. “Yah!” you yelled as I chased after him. “Get back here!”

He wasn’t going anywhere near his full speed so you caught up to him rather quickly. He turned around when you reached out to stop him, catching your wrist and pulling on your arm to force you to fall into the sand, him following just behind. While your mind reeled, trying to comprehend all that just happened in the last half of a second, Jin continued to laugh.

“What was that for?” You asked after a moment of collecting yourself (again), turning your head to the side to look at your friend. He met my stare as his laughter calmed down, and you laughed a little yourself as well. “I was trying to not get sand stuck in every crevice of my clothes today.”

“We haven’t gotten to hang out just the two of us in so long,” Jin replied, ignoring your lame complaints.

You lightly sighed. “It really has been a long time, huh?” Of course you had seen each other almost every day, just as you had with the other boys. But by now it was easy to forget that there was a time the only one you knew was Seokjin, and that it was just you and him spending time together. Even after becoming their manager, while you got along with everyone fine, you were still the most comfortable around the oldest for a while.

“This is so nice,” Jin exclaimed as he turned towards the sky and closed his eyes. “I know none of the others are having as good of a time as I am since I’m monopolizing you today, but I hope they are recharging like I feel like I am.”

“I hope so, too,” you replied before the two of you fell back into a comfortable silence, watching the clouds make their way across the sky for a while.

After staying just like that for quite a while, Jin was the first to sit up. You followed his lead as he stood up, then reached his hands out to help you up as well. He helped brush the sand out of your hair and from the back of your shirt before doing the same to himself.

“So where to now?” you asked.

Seokjin shrugged. “I don’t really know anywhere. Let’s just keep walking,” he said, flashing a smile.

“I don’t know if we should spend that much time walking,” you said. “You know we’ll be walking around a lot every day during shooting.”

He just shrugged. “It’s not like we’re on our feet all day. Besides, what else are we supposed to do?”

“That is true, I guess.” You made your way back to solid ground, looking for where you should head to next. “You know, I think I saw a street with shops back that way,” you suggested, pointing in the direction you had come from. “Want to go see if there’s anything interesting there?”

“Sounds good to me,” your friend replied, placing a hand on your lower back as you walked.

The street you found was full of small shops, most of which were definitely aimed towards tourists. Small, overpriced trinkets and stereotypical “I Love” shirts were visible through the windows. While they had little effect on you, it seemed that Jin was rather interested in something he saw in one of the stores you passed by. You knew he’d just ignore it and walk past if he noticed you didn’t particularly care, so you decided to enter the shop first so he would follow.

The shopkeeper didn’t seem to pay much attention when you entered, distracted by the book they were reading. You turned around to see what would occupy Jin’s attention in this little shop and followed him to a display of tiny snow globes. You had to admit, they actually were kind of cute. But definitely listed for at least twice the price they were really worth.

While Jin picked up and examined a couple of items, you started wandering around the other sections of the shop. Past the keychains with names on them and the city-specific shirts on display, you noticed a jewelry section. There was a display case of cheap jewelry that was made to look more expensive than it was, but what caught your eye was what you saw after that. There were small bracelet designed to hold charms, and then a wide variety of charms to choose from.

As with everything else, of course it was overpriced. But you couldn’t stop yourself from perusing through the many unique pieces that were offered. You had never had a charm bracelet before, even though you thought they were interesting and would have liked to own one. You weren’t sure what you would have wanted to get specifically, but just taking a look for a while kept you entertained while Seokjin continued looking at what he wanted.

When I eventually heard Jin at the register making a purchase, you tore my eyes away from the display to stand next to him while he paid and you walked out of the store together.

“What did you get?” you asked

“It’s a secret,” he replied, winking at me. You started walking away, but Seokjin stopped as he looked back into his bag.

You paused as well, turning to face him. “What’s wrong?”

He took another second before looking at you and saying, “Sorry, can you wait right here, Y/n. There’s one I forgot to get.”

“I can come back in with you,” you offered.

“No, that’s okay,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder to keep you from moving. “Just wait here, I’ll only be a minute.”

You shrugged, seeing no problem with waiting outside while he finished his purchase. He did perfectly fine with the first one on his own so it wasn’t like he needed you.

You took out my phone as you waited, looking at the group chat that Eric had put you into a few days ago. You were overwhelmed when it had happened. He didn’t give you any warning or ask you about it first, just decided to make a chat with you in it. Suddenly you had found myself thrown into conversations with not only Eric, but also Kevin, Amber from f(x), Peniel from BTOB, and Jackson from Got7. They were surprisingly active in the chat, although you hadn’t been able to chat much since you were added, being as you’ve been busy with work.

Some may think that since you’re around a K-pop group all the time, that meeting people from other groups wouldn’t be a big deal. But oh boy, was it nerve wracking. Got7 had just debuted this year, and being as Jackson and Namjoon had made quick friends when they met at music shows it wasn’t so bad talking to him. You were already a bit familiar with him. But the rest?

You were fans of them before I even came to Korea. Just like when you met Eric, you were still super nervous in the chat. But the rest of them were pretty familiar with each other, so they easily kept conversations flowing in the chat and were constantly trying to include you when they could. You almost felt bad for not being able to be more active in it right now, but they of course understood.

You barely got to read through the messages that you had missed before Jin came back out of the shop, looking happy with his extra purchase.

“Ready to go?” you asked, putting your phone away.

“Let’s go!” he responded, linking his arm through yours and practically started skipping down the sidewalk. You laughed, trying really hard to keep up with your shorter legs.

You found a local place to eat before deciding it was probably a good idea to head back to their “dorm” they were staying at.

On your way back down the street, a different store caught Jin’s eye and he paused in front of it.

“Do you really have something else you want to buy?” you asked him, raising an eyebrow.

“There’s something really cool in here,” Seokjin replied. “Can we just look really quick?” He flashed his attempt of puppy eyes at you, as if he needed that to convince you.

“Yeah sure, it can’t hurt,” you said. He quickly entered the shop, heading toward the display that had caught his eye.

You took my time entering after him. This shop was definitely bigger than the one we went to before, and wasn’t blatantly a tourist trap. It sold more expensive wares, things that were more worth their large price tags. What seemed to have gotten Jin’s attention was a display of really nice crystals of all different colors.

“Wow, these are really pretty!” Seokjin exclaimed, closely looking at a deep blue crystal as you approached him. “I wish we had room for things like this in the dorm back home.”

“Even if we did, these are probably way out of our price range, Jin,” you said as you examined what appeared to be an amethyst crystal.

“Yeah, I know,” he responded, backing away a little to look at more of the gems. “But one can dream, right?”

You nodded in agreement, turning away to look over what else was in the store. As your eyes wandered, you noticed the shopkeeper had his eyes set pretty firmly on Seokjin as he looked at the crystals. That wasn’t too unusual, especially with items like these you’re sure that they could never be too safe. But a few moments later another customer entered and started perusing through the other side of the same display that Jin was still examining, and when you looked back to the man at the register his eyes were still firmly glued on your friend.

You realized he hadn’t been looking at you at all, and taking a glance at the new customer as well, you started wondering if there was a certain motivation behind why he was eyeing Jin specifically.

“Hey, Jin,” you carefully said as you tore my gaze away from the man. Jin hummed in response, and you lightly grabbed onto his elbow. “We should probably get going, especially since we’re not buying anything.

“Yeah, just another moment,” he said as his attention turned to another of the beautiful objects.

“I don’t like how the guy at the register is looking at you, Seokjin,” you quietly said, although you weren’t sure why you bothered being quiet when you were pretty sure no one else in the store would have been likely to understand Korean. “I’m sorry, but I really think we should go.”

Jin looked away from the items behind the glass to glance at you, no doubt seeing the concern on your face. He didn’t bother looking at the man, knowing you wouldn’t lie about something like that, before nodding and seeming to decide that it was best to listen to you.

As you were turning around and about to leave, Jin almost bumped into the man who had managed to quietly approach us while we were distracted.

Before we could say or do anything else, the man asked, “Can I help you?” rather sternly. He also seemed to have been speaking slower than normal.

“We just saw the crystals in the window and wanted to take a look at them,” you responded in English, attempting a smile.

He looked the both of you up and down. “Oh, so you do speak English,” he mumbled. Then at a normal volume, “Well, are you going to buy or not?”

You did your best to keep the smile on your face despite how rude this man was being. You knew that the conversation was simple enough that Jin could understand as well, so you hoped that his poker face and acting skills were being useful right now. “Unfortunately not. They’re very pretty, but a bit out of our price range. We were just about to leave. Have a nice day, sir.”

You tugged on Jin’s arm to make sure he knew that was a cue to start walking towards the door. Once you were outside, you let out a deep breath, glad that was over and done with.

“Well, that was rude,” Jin said.

“Yeah, told you I didn’t like how he looked at you,” you replied.

“Oh well, at least we’ve had a nice day overall though.” Jin turned to you to smile as you continued walking. “One rude guy isn’t going to ruin this really nice day I’ve had with you, Y/n.”

“Yeah, of course not,” you replied, returning his smile despite still being a little shaken. He was right, one person shouldn’t ruin the rest of the lovely day you had. “Let’s get back now, hm?”

By the time you made it back, it was evening and everyone there was eating dinner.

“Nice of you to join us, hyung,” Namjoon said through a mouthful of food.

“Did you guys have a nice time?” Hoseok asked, a little more mannerly.

“Yes, we did!” Jin said with a smile. “I missed spending time with Y/n.”

“We see her every day,” Yoongi said.

“You know what I mean,” Jin retorted. Yoongi shrugged in response.

Not wanting to intrude on their personal time, yo just quickly greeted everyone before saying, “I should probably get back to my hotel room. I’ll be seeing you guys tomorrow.”

“Oh, hold on a minute Y/n,” Jin said as he dug through his bag. “I have something for you.”

“For me?” you asked. “Why?”

“What do you mean why?” He found what he was looking for and enthusiastically pushed the little box toward you. “Open it.”

You carefully took the box from him, opening the lid to find a bracelet. A charm bracelet like the ones that you saw in the case at the tourist shop. The charms adorning the bracelet were all letters. You gently picked it up, and as you analyzed them you realized there were eight separate sets of letters – RM, J, SG, JH, JM, V, JK, and (your initials) – representing the seven members of BTS and yourself. These little charms weren’t the most expensive thing, but that many letters couldn’t have been cheap! But also, how did he know?

“Jin, what?” you asked after a few moments of not being able to find your voice from the surprise. “How…?”

“I saw you looking at them in the shop,” he said. “When I went back in, asking you to wait outside? I had gone back in to buy that for you. I wasn’t sure what other charms you’d like, but figured I couldn’t go wrong with that.”

“It’s…” you were having trouble finding words as you turned away from the bracelet to look at your friend. “Thank you,” you settled on, smiling widely. “It’s really thoughtful, Seokjin. I love it. Thank you.”

He smiled back before taking the bracelet from you to clasp it around your wrist.

You rushed over to the others to show them the bracelet he got for you, hoping that your enthusiasm over the simple charms showed them how much they all meant to you. You’d definitely be sure to treasure this gift for as long as you could.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 29 | Chapter 29 | Chapter 30

Tags: @calling-dips-on-j-hope​ @misohime​ @netflix-batman-sleep​ @smallbaby-cat​ @leitholdwithlove​ @ramyagovindraj​ @leesalts​ @rjsmochii​ @overtherainbow35​

Send me a message or ask if you want tagged! And also feel free to leave comments or send asks to just talk to me!

[bookworm-2692]

About a week ago I finally finished bookbinding @airdeari‘s beautiful Zero Escape fic The First Nonary Game. It took about a month (between all the waiting for glue to dry and also several days each week when I was unable to work on it), and was so much fun! It’s so satisfying to just... hold this book in my hands. 

Details about how I made it, along with additional photos (and commentary) below the cut.

So I came across this post on Tumblr, which immediately inspired me to try bookbinding myself. I spent a few days watching so many tutorials from the youtube channel linked in the post (I’ll link the specific tutorials I used in this post), and googling how to actually manage to print pages so they form proper signatures, because the inbuilt booklet creator in Word doesn’t exist in my Word apparently so that’s fun.

Anyway, once I started, I asked @airdeari for permission to print and bind his fic, and he immediately said yes, so that was good. Then I spent a good couple of days copying the entire fic into a Word document, and fiddling with formatting so it would look like an actual book (section breaks, page numbers, headers with the fic title on the left page and chapter title on the right page (this took ages to work and I kept on stuffing it up), and making sure things just... looked nice. I added in the art After The War that @keycrash created specifically for the fic (third pic above), and an “afterword” containing credit and links and the author’s notes from AO3 (because even if I’m the only one who will ever see it, it still feels weird to not add the credit stuff in so it’s there).

I then saved the document as a PDF, and used CheapImposter to correctly shuffle (impose, hence “imposter”) the pages so when folded into signatures, each page would be in the correct order. This program was the first free one I could find, and was great because you could specify the number of sheets you want per signature, rather than stuck with a default. I chose to have 11 signatures of 6 sheets of paper, since that was the amount that would have the least blank pages and the end of the book. The file was 261 pages, so with two pages per side, and two sides per sheet, you divide the number of pages by 4 to get 66 sheets of paper

I then printed. There was only one (1) paper jam in the process, which was great. Unfortunately, I realised after I printed that one of the headers for one chapter was wrong (I hadn’t properly disconnected the two chapters), but fortunately that only involved reprinting 4 sheets of paper.

I used the following tutorials to make the books: DIY Textblock, a general “how to make a textblock” tutorial; DIY Kettle Stitch, a specific look at the stitching for a textblock, since the first tutorial doesn’t focus on this; DIY Book Cloth, since I chose to use fabric for my cover; and DIY Hardcover Book, how to put all those pieces together.

So then I started folding all the signatures. I was watching so much Brooklyn Nine-Nine during both the folding and stitching sections, since it was repetitive actions I didn’t need to concentrate on that lasted hours.

It was at this point that I sliced each signature one by one to make the end smoother and less pointy. In future I recommend not doing it at this point - wait until the very end. Instead, move straight onto stitching. 

I don’t have any photos of the stitching portion, since my phone died the morning I started the stitching, and I wasn’t able to replace it until after all the stitching was done. In fact, originally all the photos from before the stitching were lost too. It was only about two days ago that magically the My Photo Stream thing kicked in and brought back all the photos - if it had worked two weeks earlier I would’ve had more. As it is, all photos from September to January are gone forever, unfortunately. But that’s another discussion entirely.

The above is the first book photo on my new phone, so as you can see, all the stitching was completed, the spine was glued, and the purple paper attached. I couldn’t buy two A4 sheets, so instead I had to buy one A3 sheet and cut it in half. Which was difficult cycling home from the city with an A3 sheet that didn’t fit in my bag on account of being A3 and not A4, but oh well.

I don’t have a book press, so I used a pile of DND books and my brother’s weights instead, as shown below.

I then had to re-slice the book after this point bc my first go wasn’t even, on account of slicing each signature separately. Next time definitely I’ll just do it at the end like this. I then also sanded it to make it smoother. It’s still not perfect, but it’s something that’ll take practice and patience so.

Next I made the book cloth, which involves using appliqué sheets to combine cotton fabric and tissue paper. But first I want to talk about the fabric I chose for the cover, because I’m quite proud of it. I spent ages wandering around the shop, trying to find something that fit the feel of the book. Spoilers for the content of the fic if you haven’t read it yet, and also for the source material (999/Zero Escape). I was thinking about some sort of blue swirl thing, because of the Gigantic sinking. I found that, but hesitated because it didn’t fully fit, and my favourite colour is blue so I always pick blue. I also considered flames/fire because of the incinerator thing, but couldn’t find any. I can’t remember if I just couldn’t find any four leaf clover fabric, or if I’ve just since thought about that as a cover. But instead I chose the butterflies below. They fit in several subtle ways that I’m proud of. The colours of blue and pink(/red) matching the receiver and transmitter coding all throughout 999, as well as the moments of purple as well (I don’t think I need to get into that, I’m sure it was analysed to hell and back when the game first came out). The butterflies also point towards the butterfly effect, and in turn the different timelines present in the series. So together it just works. /spoilers over

It’s also just a pretty fabric.

Now the making of the book cloth. I had to make it twice, because I was too impatient the first time, so the iron was too hot and it steamed, which wrinkled and warped the tissue paper, so the fabric was all wrinkly too. The second time took ages and was a worse quality appliqué sheet, but worked well enough anyway.

(My parents: did you have the iron out? what were you ironing? you never iron)

And then I cut the book board to size, using the measurements from the tutorial video. I’ll repeat them here: front and back cover: width = width of textblock minus 3mm, and height = height of textblock plus 6mm, and spine width = width of textblock spine, spine height = same height as covers

I then glued the board onto the book cloth, and put it under the book press. The dnd books are not large enough to cover the whole thing, and also I really wanted the board to stay flat and not curl, so I grabbed way more dnd books and way more of my brother’s weights. I also accidentally started putting the glue on the wrong side of the board (bc one side is smooth and the other is rough), hence the colour difference as well.

The corners were cut and folded and glued over...

And then the textblock was glued in, and put in my book press for a whole weekend. I added a sheet of paper to absorb the glue so the pages wouldn’t become wrinkly, but instead the sheet I added was fine and every other page in the book is wrinkly. So I dunno what happened there. After the weekend I took it out and looked at it, and then put it back for another week to be sure.

And then the complete book is shown at the top of the post!

As I was starting I was talking a lot about it, like about the process I had to go through, or how I was going to obtain what I needed, etc. Mum asked if she could read the story. I froze, like a deer in the headlights... because this is a fanfic. She saw my fear and immediately backed down, explaining she only wanted to read it because if the story was that important to me that I was going to literally turn it into a book, she wanted to read it to yknow like know me better or something? Which makes sense. And when I got over my initial reaction, and remembered that indeed it was technically my dad who introduced me to fanfic, and thought about it more, I said okay. Because since the fic is technically a prequel to the first game, and most of the characters are technically OC’s (like, from the first game we know that all eighteen children must exist, but most of them don’t have names or anything so they are effectively OC’s), then knowledge of source material isn’t strictly necessary. This fic can probably be enjoyed on its own. I mean I’ll probably have to explain the concept of morphogenetic fields, and the last four chapters might not make sense? But I’m okay for my mum to read it. So when she’s less busy at work I’m going to download the epub onto her phone for her - we’ll see how it goes.

Anyway, this fic is a masterpiece, extremely well written and I highly recommend it. As said, most of the characters are effectively OC’s, and yet they are all given such rich histories and personalities. All of them have access to the morphogenetic field, so I’m just so glad that @airdeari​ explores nine unique relationships with the field - nine unique sibling dynamics, and esper powers and abilities. It’s just so good.

[limeblood-exe]

A Singular, Bloody Mattress (part 1)

tw: blood

The warehouse door bursts open, slamming against the concrete wall; the sharp sound thundering through the thick silence of night. Dust plumes and scatters as the old and abused door falls off its rusted hinges, the only sign of movement besides three masked figures who stealthily make their way inside. 

Mikey, wielding an odachi in place of his signature kusari-fundo, frantically glances around the abandoned mattress warehouse, surveying for any threats amongst the giant columns and rows of mattresses with an uncharacteristic expression of apprehension smearing his features. Joined in his search, Donnie approaches a much shorter column of mattresses, about his height, and stops to inspect one with his goggles.

“All clear,” Mikey whispers, determining that the deafening silence means that no present danger is lurking in the shadows. Not that they really expected any threats from a mattress store, but anything's possible when with them. 

Glancing behind him at Raph, who stood back for the all clear before entering any further into the building, he waits for further instruction from his leader.

Raph, holding a blanketed figure in his arms, nods at Mikey, and both relax their posture at the promise of no current danger.

“Do you think we were followed?”

Sharing Mikey’s worried expression, Raph tries to smile in an effort to placate his distressed younger brother, though it probably comes out more as a grimace when replying, “With that cool stunt you pulled off earlier? Not a chance. I don’t think those freaky Foot guys were expecting to get roasted with that fire tornado of yours. I bet you they’re running back home with their tails between their legs!”

Mikey responds in kind with a timid smile; he’s always welcome to any of his older brothers’ praise, soaking them up like a needy sponge. Besides, it was pretty cool what he did back there.

None of them had expected to be jumped by those two Foot dudes, having just left April’s house from a fun night of trying out the new board games her parents bought her. Now that he’s thinking back on it, they probably should have been more concerned with the fact that their enemies had actively sought them out rather than the turtles running into them by happenstance. The paper ninjas they commonly used were totally different this time around, and not just because of the change of color scheme (an ugly shade of dark green, if you were to ask Mikey his professional opinion). 

They didn’t have any hands.

Well, they did have hands, just in the shape of blades.

Really, really sharp blades.

The vomit-colored paper was obviously mystic, no inspection from Donnie needed. No paper should be allowed to cut cleanly through concrete for goodness sake. It shouldn’t be allowed to cut through shells, either-

Remembering why they were seeking shelter in the first place, Mikey’s gaze darts down to the bundle in Raph’s gentle hold, the blood seeping through the blue blanket. His face immediately falls, and he feels queasy at the sight of the red puddle already starting to form on the floor. Blood that should be inside his brother, not drenching some stranger’s blanket they stole from a clothes’ line. Mikey opens his mouth but before he can voice his question, he is interrupted by a heavy “plop” to his right. Bodies tensed, Ralph and Mikey whip around for the cause of the noise, only to see Donnie airing out one of the mattresses. Dust clouds the surrounding air, getting caught in the lungs of his unsuspecting brothers and a massive coughing fit follows. Donnie, unperturbed, just drags the offending mattress away from the dust cloud and drops it to the floor, wiping his hands against his thighs with a look of disgust on his face.

Facing Raph, Donnie says, “Lay him down here. I can't get a proper looksy otherwise,” while nodding in the direction of the mattress.

Following his brother's directions, Raph stifles down a cough as he kneels down next to the mattress, but hesitates for a brief moment.

“Don’t worry, Raph, I already scanned it. They’re safe. These mattresses are definitely older than most of Splinter’s clothing, but just as filthy, if you were to ask me, but they’re relatively clean,” Donnie reaffirms him.

“It’s not that, Donnie.”

And it's not. Not really. Swallowing thickly, Raph gently lays down his far-too-quiet and limp brother to the mattress, trying to be as slow and careful his large body will allow him. While Raph was as gentle as he could possibly be, even the faintest of movement jostles his younger brother, and a pitiful whimper escapes from his throat. Raph can’t help but wince, as hurting his own flesh and blood, even unintentionally, makes him feel sick to his stomach.

It doesn’t help that Leo looks absolutely awful. From what’s peaking out from the blanket, his eyes are pressed tightly shut, skin cool and clammy to the touch, and sweat beads at his creased forehead. He sounds awful, too, with his rattling lungs gasping for air like he just got done running a marathon, as if he wasn’t just carried for three whole blocks. Raph may not have as extensive of medical knowledge as Leo and Donnie do, what with Donnie’s general interest in all sciences and Leo being the medic of the team, but he knows signs of shock when he sees it.

His brother has lost far too much blood for comfort.

Donnie wastes no time in getting to work, carefully unwrapping Leo from the blanket. Donnie and Raph hiss at what is revealed from the confines of the blanket; a deep gash on the lower left side of Leo’s abdomen, his plastron having been neatly cut through deep enough to injure the skin and tissue that was supposed to be protected by thick shell. Thick rivulets of blood seep from the wound and cascade down Leo’s side even with the gray hoodie, also stolen, wrapped tightly around him to halt the bleeding.

“That doesn’t look good, Donnie,” Raph whispers after a second, trying (and failing) to reel in his worried thoughts about how quiet Leo is. He’s never quiet; it's basically Leo's given nature to never shut up. Yet, here they are now, and Raph would give up just about anything to hear one of Leo’s one-liners.

"No, no it does not," Donnie nods in agreement. His brows are deeply furrowed as he gently prods the edges of Leo’s laceration. 

“I’ll have to analyze just how deep the wound is. I have to get the bleeding under control, too, or he won’t even make it back to the lair in time,” Donnie states matter-of-factly. If Raph didn’t know his brother any better or notice the slight shake in his voice or the way his hands trembled, he might believe that Donnie seemed unfazed by his brother’s condition. But he knows, and they all know, that Donnie's attempts at appearing emotionless is just a facade he hides under.

As Donnie starts to delicately remove the sodden hoodie, the fabric gets caught on the jagged skin, causing Leo to let out a sudden gasp, back arching from the sudden pain, and his breathing becomes more erratic. Recoiling, Donnie puts a placating hand on Leo's cheek.

“Shit! Sorry, sorry,” Donnie mutters to Leo, gently thumbing away the tears that start streaming down his face. Raph is so taken aback by Leo’s reaction that he doesn’t even bother to chastise Donnie for his potty mouth.

"Is… is Leo gonna be okay?"

Raph faces his youngest brother, whose arms are clutching tightly around Leo’s sword. Mikey's gaze is locked to the floor, eyes wide with unshed tears. He looks so lost and scared, so devoid of his regular pep and overall cheer, that Raph has to suppress the overwhelming urge to engulf his brother in a giant hug.

His brothers need him right now. He might not be able to help Leo like Donnie can, but he's still their leader. He is still their big brother.

“Leo’s gonna be just fine,” Raph starts, approaching to grasp Mikey’s shoulders in his large hands, squeezing gently. “He’s strong, you know that. Remember that time when we thought Leo got lost in the sewers, and he did, but he found his way back? We spent hours searching for the guy and the cheeky bastard was home the entire time, eating the last of the oreos. Or what about that time he broke his arm doing that stupid double back-flip he saw in a video once when he was seven? He only cried like twice the whole time!"

Mikey looks at him, eyes glistening and mouth wobbling.

"I know my brothers. If there's one thing I can count on Leo, it's that he always pulls through in the end."

Silence fills the air for just a brief moment, filled only with the labored breathing of Leo. That brief moment is all Mikey needs, however. He presses his lips into a thin line and vigorously wipes at his tears with his forearm. After taking a composing breath through his nose, Mikey asks, "What do we do now?”

Isn't that the question. It’s far too dangerous to go back the way they came, not with the Foot Clan still searching for them knowing they have the advantage with one turtle down. And especially not with those new paper ninjas.

They’re incredibly lucky that when Mikey resorted to using his fire tornado, it was discovered that while mystic paper, it was still just paper and fell to the power of its natural enemy. Of course, that was after one managed to get the jump on Leo.

Raph can still vividly feel the gut punch he got when his own brother's screaming pierced his ears, the way his blood chilled in his veins and his heart plummeted. The raw fear of thinking oh god my little brother is dead.

He shakes his head. There'll be time to digest today's events later, when they're home and Leo's patched up and back to his annoying self, using his injury to his advantage so that his brothers may tend to his beck and call. And they'll fall for it too, of course, cause that's what family does for each other.

So, they can’t go back the way they came, what else then? The main sewer entrance for the lair is too far away to just make a run for it, especially being above ground. Raph could have Donnie track down another near manhole, but not only is Donnie currently busy using his tech to scan Leo’s injury checking the severity of it, they'll have no way of knowing if that manhole is connected to their sewer line unless they're in it. And even if that does happen to be connected to the lair, it's still quite a long distance to travel with someone who doesn't have any time to spare.

Dammit, he needs to think! Raph isn't the greatest at coming up with plans; he's always been more of a "smash first, talk later" kind of a guy. 

And look where that got them. Raph's baby brother is bleeding out to death, they're being pursued by the stupid flame-heads with deadly (well, deadlier) paper ninjas with nowhere to go, and they're stuck in a mattress store of all places. 

Leo would have known what to do. Hell, he'd have gotten them home by now with one of his portals, where they'd be enjoying the rest of their evening with pizza and a movie.

But they're not home. They're stuck with no where to run to, and Raph can't think.

“I-I don’t know," Raph stutters, self-doubt numbing his mind, jumbling his thoughts like clothes in a dryer, spinning and spinning. "I don't-"

“I c'n port'l us.”

Shocked, Raph whips around. Leo, even though his face is twisted with pain and his arms tremble, struggles to hoist himself to his elbows, swatting at Donnie's attempts to push him back down. Leo’s breathing extremely hard from the exertion of just sitting up, but he remains upright out of sheer stubbornness.

“I c’n get us-shit,” Leo grits through his teeth. Donnie, relenting to his brother's will, wraps an arm around Leo's shoulders, taking most of the weight as he leans him up. Glaring up at Raph, eyes blaring with fierce determination, he finishes with more clarity in his voice, “I can get us home.”

“No, absolutely not! Not in the condition you’re in.” 

Raph knows that with Leo now awake, they have a chance, a real good chance, of escaping their ridiculous predicament and getting Leo proper medical treatment. And Leo is the only one who can do it; he's the only one who can use his sword after all. But Leo can't even sit up without Donnie's support, which he clarifies as he gestures to Leo, “You can’t even sit upright on your own, how are you gonna hold a 30 lbs sword?”

“Oh yeah? Watch me."

Leo moves to stand up, pulling away from Donnie, but as soon as he draws his legs beneath him and shifts his weight, his eyes roll to the back of his head and he lists to the side. If it weren’t for his older brother, he would’ve faced-planted the floor. 

“Woah, woah, easy there ‘Nardo,” Donnie smoothly scolds, pressing his brother back to the comfort of the mattress. Leo hasn’t lost his battle with unconsciousness yet, grasping harshly onto Donnie’s bicep. His big brother grimaces but ultimately ignores it. After Leo's breathing evens out, Donnie gives his younger brother an exasperated look.

“Well, that was the dumbest thing you could have done.”

Leo rolls his eyes.

“Ugh, sh-shuddup, you weirdo asshole.”

Donnie snorts.

“Glad to know your personality is still somewhat intact. Though, I think you're more so the asshole here, seeing as I'm the one trying to be helpful and all.”

"Whatev', you just doin' this for yer own sake."

"Ah, yes. I have been wanting someone to be in my unquestionable debt recently, since I’m entirely incapable of doing anything from the goodness of my heart. Thank you for reminding me, Leon. I’ll be sure to remember this the next time you try to unload your chore duties onto me."

Leo tiredly gives one of his signature smirks, "No problemo."

Donnie's face turns stern.

“But seriously, Raph’s right. Being completely honest with you, I don’t even know how you’re still conscious right now.” Even as they speak, Leo’s eyes start to lose their focus, glazing over with exhaustion. Even eye-rolling and smirking seems to take away any energy he has left, and if Leo wasn't currently bleeding like a stuck pig, he would've gasped at the audacity of it all.

“I can do this," and Leo looks at Raph knowingly. "I always pull through in the end, remember?"

He's using his own words against him, Raph realizes. He must have been awake enough to hear his conversation with Mikey.

And he did say that, but if Raph was honest with himself, he mostly said those words to comfort Mikey. The odds are stacked against his brother right now. He doesn't have general mishaps anymore forming portals, but there are occasional days when Leo still struggles. Today, though, had been an average day, with Leo having successfully transported them directly in April's living room just earlier this evening, but failing to open one to the lair when the game night ended.

And there are plenty of examples of Leo triumphing when he reasonably shouldn't have. But looking at his brother now, bleeding and sickly and dying, he can't help the tendrils of doubt that suffocate him, snaking their way into his subconscious. 

But Raph knows his brothers. Even amongst doubt, Leo always does come through, in some way or another. 

Raph trusts his brothers, and he will trust Leo in his word that he can get them home.

After all, Raph's not one to make plans. He's never needed to really, not with his brothers by his side.

"I know."

Raph glances over to Mikey, communicating with a single look.

Mikey understands completely.

There's no time to debate whether Leo can do it or not. Every second that passes is another second of Leo losing more blood. Donnie might be pressing the hoodie into the large cut, but it’s not enough to entirely stop the flow.

At that moment, a large crash reverberates from just beyond the warehouse walls, the sound similar to the likes of a building collapsing in on itself. Dread stifles the air; their hiding spot will soon be found, it's only a matter of time. 

“You got this," Mikey encourages, presenting Leo with the handle of his odachi. Raph and Donnie watch, faces scrunched with anticipation. As Leo grasps the odachi, he breathes deeply, preparing himself both physically and mentally. 

His arm pathetically quivers as he lifts his sword from Mikey's hold. Raising the familiar object to its full weight, Leo heaves himself forward, sending white sparks across his vision as the pain blooms from his side. Blood begins to pool in his mouth as he bites the inside of his cheek to refrain passing out. 

Focus.

Focus on his breathing; focus on imagining the lair, the skateboard ramps, the untouched, warm pizza sitting on the counter waiting back home that Splinter had promised them.

Letting all other thoughts evade his mind; let's them fall to the ground like forgotten crumbs off of a home-cooked meal Mikey had prepared; let's them fall off his shoulders and into the drain like water when Leo spends too much time brooding in the shower and his brothers get upset at him for stealing all the hot water again.

Clearing his mind, Leo draws in the formation of a circle with the tip of his sword and blue light zaps and sparkles from his odachi.

But no portal forms. Halfway through, his muscles seize up, locked with overexertion, and he can't complete the circle. His sword lowers to rest on the ground, nearly falling from his grip altogether, his arms too tired to properly hold it.

His body has betrayed him, refusing to move when he commands it; feeling like he's trying to move around in thick syrup.

He didn't do it. His brothers' faith in him was misguided, and they're all gonna die here, not just Leo. 

No! Not wanting to give up, Leo tries again. An even more pathetic attempt than the first. His body protests his wishes, and his sword stays put as though it trying to tell him that he's already beat.

Hands are suddenly upon him, grasping the hilt of the odachi next to his own and resting on the back of his shell. His brothers are here, helping him bear the weight alongside him. 

"We gotchu, Leo!" There's Mikey's positive attitude, refreshing to hear as always. "Just focus on making a portal, we'll take care of the rest."

In the distance, another boom can be heard, louder and closer than before. Raph faces the direction it came from, protectively standing over his brothers as Mikey and Donnie crouch beside Leo.

Reaching his zen mode, confidence from knowing he's not doing this alone, Leo directs his sword to move in a circular motion, his two brothers following his lead and finishing in a perfect circle.

And like a miracle itself, a beautiful brilliance of blues fills the dark warehouse, and a perfect portal stares back at them.

Quick successions of multiple slashes can be heard, and the wall behind them explodes, raining heavy chunks of concrete and plaster all around them. Mattresses, carried by the blast, careen through the air, experiencing freedom for the first time in so many years. 

Wasting no time, Donnie throws Leo over his shoulder despite the weak protest, leaping into the portal. Behind him, Mikey and Raph follow, but not before Mikey gives the Foot Heads a taunting wave, blowing raspberries as he jumps through the portal. Leaving behind two very frustrated villains, having been outsmarted once again by the turtles and left with nothing but a single dusty and bloody mattress for their efforts, they can do nothing but stew in their hatred.

"Gah, those pesky turtles," the shorter one of the duo rasps. They had gotten so close this time, too. But they still have their new weapons at the ready; all they need as another opportunity to strike, then those pests will never bother them again.

Just as they're about to leave the warehouse, the larger of the two stops by the mattress, picking up what looks like a familiar blanket.

"Hey wait a minute, isn't that-" He doesn't get to finish that statement, with a scraping scream interrupting him.

"Noo! My Lou Jitsu: Punch Chowder hoodie!"

[angelatmidnight1]

You Got Out-Witted

I got the inspiration for this fic from this video plus my love for bad jokes and puns :D.

Summary: Mirage wants the last donut and sends his decoys on a secret mission to get it. He didn’t realize that Wattson already beat him to it and they spend the rest of the morning telling each other corny jokes. Mirage is a trickster for a reason, and believes that his jokes are funnier than Wattson’s, only to come to realize that there’s one joke that she knows about that makes everybody laugh.

“Bamboozles for the foozles, haha...oh boy.” Mirage chuckled nervously to himself as his decoy ran in front of him and, instead of running in a straight line, face-planted into the wall beside the kitchen. Ever since his gear got a huge update, Elliott was spending the better part of the morning learning how to better control his decoys. He was normally perfect at it because, well, he is perfect after all, but for whatever reason, he was having trouble getting the decoy to walk through a doorway. This would have been fine if there wasn’t something on the other side of said doorway: a warm, freshly baked vanilla frosted donut sitting all alone in a nearly empty box up on the countertop. Lifeline had gone out even earlier in the morning to surprise her fellow Legends with donuts from a nearby bakery and bought enough for everyone to have as many as they wanted. Gibraltar ate most of them, Caustic only had one, Bangalore opted out, and Revenant and Pathfinder, for obvious reasons, left theirs untouched. Loba didn’t have one since she hadn’t woken up yet and, since Octane managed to snag extra ones before making a mad dash out of the room, only one donut remained. “Anyone touches this donut whose name isn’t Loba,” He remembered Lifeline saying with her shock sticks drawn, “will be my new drum set!”

Mirage shuddered at the thought but shook it out of his system, his plan was foolproof. Not only was he getting in some practice with his decoys, which he totally didn’t need, his plan was to have the decoy go into the kitchen in his place to make sure the coast was clear. If it was, he’d go in afterwards and grab the goods before anyone could catch him. Then, if and when Lifeline found out that the donut was missing, he’d be in the clear, and he’d have one extra donut to celebrate his victory.  And who said he couldn’t work on his killer quips while he was on this secret mission? Just as he sent out another decoy, which was good looking, if he did say so himself, he heard someone giggle behind him. Elliott practically jumped out of his skin and spun around with his hands up, the decoy following his lead. He expected to see Lifeline standing there ready to use his beautiful, beautiful face as a cymbal, but saw Wattson instead. 

“Foozles...pfft, I like that one.” Natalie giggled as she took a bite of the donut between her fingers. Elliott looked at her, then the donut, and then back at her, the disappointment falling on top of him like a ton of bricks.

“Where’d ya get the donut, Nat?” Mirage tried to ask as casually as he could, feeling his lower lip quiver as the engineer pointed over his shoulder. 

“Mademoiselle Ajay brought donuts for everybody this morning. They’re délicieux~ (delicious).”

She responded happily , munching away at the treat until it was nothing but crumbs. Noticing the way he was looking at her,  her face fell and suddenly took on a guilty look that tugged at the trickster’s heartstrings. “Didn’t you get one?”

“Oh, nah, I didn’t...but, don’t worry! Don’t worry. I’m not supposed to eat sweets anyway ‘cause, ya know, carbs and all that. Gotta stay fit for the ring.” Mirage reassured her, perking back up to toss his hair and put his hands on his hips, which made her smirk. “So, ya like foozles huh? Came up with that myself.”

This made Wattson giggle again as she brushed the sprinkles off of her hands, nodding. “Oui, it is very clever. Oh! Let me tell you a joke I heard. Maybe you can add it to your repertoire.” She offered with an excited clap of her hands which made Elliott grin. 

“I don’t know, my jokes are pretty septact--setpact, setapcul---er, amazing. Show me what you got.” Elliott answered, following the engineer to the common room’s sofa and having a seat. 

“Okay! Do you wanna hear a joke about paper?” Wattson grinned, chuckling at the confused expression on his face. “Never mind, it’s tear-able!” 

Mirage blinked, then snickered, then finally laughed when he caught up to the punchline. “Oh I get it, tearable paper but it sounds like, hahaha, that’s funny.” He chortled as Natalie joined in on the laughter. Unlike his smooth laughter, Wattson’s was light and kind of squeaky. Once the two calmed down, Wattson gently pushed his shoulder and smiled at him eagerly.

“It’s your turn! Tell me one of your amazing jokes.” She demanded, swiveling her legs in an attempt to contain her excitement. Elliott smiled, Wattson was adorable, and he brought both of his arms up and hooked his hands behind his head so that he could properly lounge. 

“Alright, hey did you know spring was here? I got so excited I….wet my plants.” He quipped with some added finger guns for good measure. Wattson burst out laughing and crossed her arms against her torso, her nose wrinkling from how hard she was laughing. Elliot chuckled, finding her laughter contagious, and watched as Natalie wiped her eyes and beamed at him.

“You mean they were soiled?” Natalie wiggled her eyebrows and it was Mirage’s turn to split his sides. 

The pair’s dorky laughter filled up the common area of the dropship and found its way into various nearby rooms. After dishing out some more jokes back and forth, Natalie accidentally snorted and covered her face with her hands, hiding her bright pink face. 

“Say it again, say it again!” Wattson laughed, her voice muffled by her palms and Mirage, his ego soaring, sported a wide grin.

“Okay, okay. What did the pirate say on his 80th birthday?” Mirage smirked, watching Wattson’s shoulders shake with contained laughter. “Argh, Aye Matey.” 

Natalie shrieked with laughter and sunk into the side of the couch, letting another snort slip as she hid into the cushions. “You’re so funny, Monsieur Witt!”

Elliott chuckled and shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah, I’m good, I'm good. But there’s two of me, so I’m good twice! Boom, check out that math.” He grinned as he summoned a decoy, fist bumping it before it immediately disappeared. Natalie’s laughter came to a halt and she turned to face him, blinking away her tears of mirth and raising a brow.

“Are you saying your jokes are better than mine?” Wattson pouted as she crossed her arms against her chest. 

“No! Well...actually, yeah. But I mean, look at you! I’ve never seen someone turn so pink.” Mirage teased as he poked at her cheeks and laughed when she pushed his hand away. 

“Arrête ça! (Stop it!) My jokes were just as funny as yours,” She whined. Mirage put his hands up as if surrendering but didn’t stop smiling. 

“Alright, how about this: I’ll say your jokes were half-good. They did make me laugh...a little bit. Okay?” Mirage replied and Wattson, still pouting, suddenly offered him a smile of her own. 

“Okay, Monsieur Witt. Maybe my initial jokes were ‘half-good’ as you say, but I have another that’ll make you laugh way more than a little bit. Wanna hear it?” She asked in a sort of a sing-song voice, scooting closer to the trickster with the bright look of mischief in her eyes. Mirage eyed her curiously yet didn’t back away even when she closed the distance between them.

“Sure, oh and you can call me Elliott. Keeps away the gray hairs.” He chuckled, flinching when Wattson suddenly pulled him into a tight hug. Mirage blushed and was thankful that she couldn’t see it but was now more confused than curious. Wasn’t she supposed to be telling a joke? “How do you make an octopus laugh, Elliott?” Wattson whispered. Mirage furrowed his brows and fidgeted in her grasp but she didn’t budge. 

“Uh, I don’t know. Sounds like that’s the sity-four, uh sixty fort….ugh, the million dollar question.” He stammered only to let out a surprised shout when she suddenly pushed him backwards. Since Wattson had already trapped Mirage’s arms to his sides when she hugged him, she had no trouble pinning them beneath her knees and keeping them there. The engineer dramatically lifted her hands in the air and wiggled her fingers with a huge smile on her face.

“You give it ten-tickles~!” She cheered before reaching under his arms and wiggling her fingertips against his armpits. Mirage dropped a high pitched squeak before dissolving into frantic laughter. 

“WHAHAHAT THAHAHAT’S NAHAHT A JOHOHOHKE!” Elliott screamed as he writhed against the cushions in a tickle-induced panic. Natalie beamed, happy that she caught the trickster off guard, and swiped her nails up his arms before tickling under his chin and the sides of his neck. 

“Yes it is! And it’s pretty funny, don’t you think?” She asked innocently, to which Elliott responded by whipping his head around and ruining his immaculate curly hair. 

“NOoohohohoh it’s NOHOHOHohohoht! THIHIHIHihihihs ihihihihs cheheheheatiihihihihng!” The trickster yelped, his laughter taking on different pitches as he tried to trap her hand between his neck and shoulder. Natalie wasn’t having it and moved her wiggling fingers to his sides, where he started bucking like a bronco and dipped into heavier laughter. Damn whoever made him so ticklish. 

“I’m not cheating, tickling is a part of the joke! And if the joke isn’t funny, why are you laughing?” Natalie smirked and, since he was wearing more casual attire (excluding his holo tech), she was able to reach underneath his shirt and squeeze his bare sides. Mirage flung his head back and convulsed with desperate laughter, kicking every pillow within reach off of the couch. “STAHAHAHAHAHAHP NAHAHAHATHAHAHAH STOHOHOHOHP!”

Natalie paused and, after pretending to think about it, she shook her head and went back to squeezing the trickster’s sides. “I have a better idea,” She replied, having to raise her voice over the sounds of his wild laughter. “Either you stop laughing at my terrible, unfunny joke, or admit that my jokes are just as good as yours!” 

“BAHAHAHAT I’D BEHEHEHEH LYHIHIHIHNHGAHAHAHAH!” Mirage wailed before falling back into a fit of laughter, barely hearing Natalie gasp and put on a mock offended look.

“How dare---you know what, fine! Then laugh it up, mon amie!” Natalie commanded, suddenly twisting a finger into his navel and delivering playful pokes to his abdomen. When she switched spots, Elliott’s laughter calmed down to giggles and he sputtered when she decided to alternate between poking his stomach and scratching at his bottom rib. 

“NAHAhahahahahteheheheh cohohohohohme ohohohohon! Truhuhuce! Leheheheht’s cahahahahall it a draaahahahahahw! Ah! I wahahahahnna truuhuhuhuhuhce!” Mirage snickered uncontrollably and flinched as she kept on poking, snapping his head upwards and searching her eyes for even the smallest ounce of mercy. Natalie shook her head, she was resolute, and she paused again to hover her hands above his sides.

“Non, no truce. Either stop laughing at my bad jokes, or tell me that they’re funny!” She demanded, smirking as he arched his back whenever her hands got too close. “Do it, or I’ll tickle you until you’re as pink as I was!”

Mirage didn’t answer her, too preoccupied with gulping down as much air as he could. Natalie waited for him to catch his breath and give her some kind of answer but, when he didn’t say anything, she narrowed her eyes and resumed tickling his sides. Mirage jolted and, since he nearly tossed Natalie up in the air, she reached behind her and squeezed the trickster’s thigh to balance herself, unknowingly causing him to finally dip down into hysterics. 

“NOOOHOHOHOHOHOH! NAHAHAHAHAHAHT DOHOHOHOHOHON’T! DOOHOHN’THAHAHAH!” Mirage screamed and kicked his legs against the cushions, his eyes shining with tears of mirth. Wattson looked at him, then his legs, before grinning and turning around so that she could face them. 

“Don’t what? Don’t do….this?” Natalie tilted her head and squeezed the trickster’s thighs eagerly and giggled as raw, unfiltered laughter spilled from his lips. “Or maybe this? Is this what you don’t want me to do?” She continued as she spidered her nails underneath his knees before returning to attack his thighs. 

Mirage tossed his head side to side like a crazy person as he laughed and laughed, his kicking fruitless as Natalie’s fingers kept on squeezing and wiggling against his hypersensitive legs.  Natalie pinched the spot where his thigh and hip met and he bucked with a snort, causing her to join in on the laughter.

“That’s a funny sound! Let’s see if we can make it again.” She smiled, continuing to lightly pinch the spot and laughing harder when he did snort again.

“AAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAH NAHAHAHAHAHTTHAHAHAHAHAAHAHA SAHAHAHAHAHAH!” Elliott shook with hysterical laughter with tears streaming down his cheeks. Natalie looked over her shoulder and stopped tickling, poking his thighs and knees at random intervals to keep him giggling.

“So? What do you think of my jokes, Elliott?” Wattson questioned, her nails finding the underside of his knees again and gently scratching. Mirage coughed out a giggle and breathed heavily, blowing loose curls out of his face.

“Hehehehe...y-you’re jokes are gohohohood. So gohohohood, mahahybe eehehehven behehetter than mihihihne.” He gasped, letting out a sigh of relief when she climbed off of him and pulled him up to give him another hug. 

“Merci, Elliott. I’m ex-static that we could agree, hehe~!”

[jbbuckybarnes]

Hated

Bucky x Reader Trope: Accidental Eavesdropping Descr: Angst & Fluff

Masterlist

You wanted to walk into the kitchen when you heard your name fall from Bucky’s lips. You stopped in your tracks and decided to turn around until they were finished mentioning you in there. Until you heard what it was about. “She acts like she has pity for all of us. It makes me uncomfortable. She’s trying too hard.” you turned around and ran to your room after these words. Your only fear with the team was to be disliked by them. You joined the group only days before Bucky and always did your best to be there for everybody, to not be annoying and to learn enough about them. “It concerns me, she’s overworking herself where she shouldn’t. She’s way too worried. I feel like she needs the same level of attention she gives to us and we’re not giving that to her.” he finished his little monologue and Steve pressed his lips together with a nod. Bucky has been your training partner since you both came to the compound and you always tried your best to help him with the problems he had with his PTSD. He was still very distanced towards you, but not in a negative way. At least that’s what you thought until you accidentally eavesdropped on him talking about you. You decided to not eat breakfast, your appetite was gone anyways and you still had a few episodes of Brooklyn 99 left to watch. Bucky noticed when you didn’t come to eat breakfast. It worried him, you always made sure everyone ate enough and you talked about the shows you currently watched every evening. “Friday? Can you deny the rest of the team access to my room? Except for Tony, of course.” you looked at the ceiling. “Of course.” the gentle female computer voice answered. - “Friday? Can you tell me where Y/N is?” the brunette asked after everyone had finished breakfast and went about their day. “She is in her room. It seems like she doesn’t want to be disturbed.” the voice answered him. “Is she medically okay?” he asked. “Yes, her vitals are normal. She seems to be upset but wants to be left alone.” she informed him. He slowly exhaled with a frown. This wasn’t like you at all and he knew something must’ve happened in the last 24 hours.

“Y/N?” he knocked against your door before turning the door knob, expecting the door to open. “Can you let me in?” he asked with a calm voice and you put on headphones to not hear his voice anymore. “If you need me, I’m-” music interrupted his voice and a tear ran down your face. He turned away from the door and walked towards the training area. “Do you think someone upset Y/N?” Bucky looked at Steve with a frown. “Might be the case.” he shrugged before continuing his set of pull-up’s. “She didn’t eat, I can’t open her door. I hope everything is okay.” he started his own workout. “She’s a big girl. Probably just needs a day off.” came back. After blasting Linkin Park and Beyonce through your headphones for almost two hours you thought yourself capable to continue a fairly normal day. You’d have to figure out ways to get past the soldier but you couldn’t let this interfere with your life too much. With headphones on a low volume and in cozy clothes you made your way to the kitchen to at least eat a sandwich. “Oh my god, Y/N. You’re okay. What happe-” he tried to hug you but you walked right past him. Under his confused glare you made yourself a big sandwich with Aerosmith blasting guitar solos through your ears. Cleaned up, started the dishwasher and made your way to the training room. “Hey, no food in the training room.” Sam joked and your eyes were venom. “Get off my nonexistent dick, pigeon.” he never saw you this aggravated and any comeback in his head vanished with his shock. You sat down on the box in front of the big window, eating your sandwich, trying to calm down. One side of your headphones was slowly taken out, “Who do I need to beat up, babygirl?” Sam meant it, he never saw you this irritated before and whoever was responsible for this should get a concussion of a lifetime. “Bucky.” you mumbled and just saying his name ruined your mood again and made you lose a tear. Arms were gently placed around you and pulled you in, “What did tin-man do to you?” “He said…that I act like I pity all of you and…” a sob left you and he started frowning, “…that I make him uncomfortable and that I’m trying too hard. I heard it when I wanted to get breakfast this morning.” He would lie if he said he wasn’t angry at his friend for making you feel like this. “Hey, babygirl. Listen to me.” he took your face in his hands, “You are the best teammate out of all of them. You make us sandwiches, make sure we eat and drink enough, stitch us up after missions. You don’t make me uncomfortable ever. You’re not annoying. Sure, mothering me isn’t always what I prefer but I would never take you for granted like that.” he tried to soothe you. “Thank you, Sam.” you got the tears off your face. “No problem. You deserve to hear that every once in a while.” he hugged you again. “Can I work out with you?” you looked up at him and a soft smile formed on his face. “Of course, but I think you should eat that sandwich first.” he nudged his head over and you nodded. “I think I did something wrong…but I don’t know what?” Bucky said to his best friend. “Try to talk to her later or whenever she wants to talk to you again.” his hand was on Bucky’s shoulder when they heard you laugh and walk in.

-

You walked into the kitchen laughing at one of Sam’s joke and ignored the rest of the room. “You lost the bet, not my fault.” he smiled at you. “Fine. I’ll make you a sandwich. But only cause you’ve been such good company today.” you gave him a stern look. “Don’t want to see you sad, babygirl.” he said sitting at the counter. “Don’t flatter yourself too much. Half of the work was done by Beyoncé on my headphones.” you snorted before preparing him a sandwich and presenting it to him. “THIS is what victory tastes like.” he grinned and you both fell into a laughing fit. You both had the tradition of journaling together in silence twice a week and when you didn’t show up for that, he knew he did something wrong. It must’ve been him. The last thing he said to you the day before was a normal “Sleep tight, Sugar Plum.” He called you that, not because of actual sugar plums, but because plums were his favorite and you were his favorite. You were more than just his favorite but you didn’t know that. He actually planned on getting everyone on board with giving you the love back that you gave everyone. That was what he had talked about earlier that day with Steve. He wanted to tell you sometime in the coming weeks. Wanted to make you emotionally better by telling everyone to treat you a little better. And here he sat alone on the couch, you hated him and he didn’t know why. “Tasha?” he looked towards the redhead that had just walked in and got her attention. “James?” she smiled. “Do you know what I did for Y/N to be so cold towards me? I don’t remember saying anything hurtful or triggering. Maybe I’m just incredibly dumb but…would you please do me a favor and find out?” he looked so heartbroken. “Talk to her, Buck.” she suggested. “She won’t let me.” he bit his lip nervously. Sam walked in with a scolding look, “Never saw someone make such a mess while being so obviously in love, holy.” “What?” Bucky was confused. “Wait, you don’t know what you did?” Sam’s eyebrows raised up. “Nobody is telling me, no.” he answered and let himself fall against the couch cushion. “I played with the idea of breaking your nose and giving you a concussion when she told me.” his hand went over his face. Nat left the room but was clearly still listening in. “You talked about her this morning.” Sam started and a nod came back. “You said she acts like she’s pitying all of us, that she makes you uncomfortable and that she’s trying too hard. Tell me WHERE you wouldn’t be mad in her skin?” he smacked his friend over the head. “Fuck, that wasn’t even meant that way. I was talking to Steve about her getting too deep into this whole caring and mothering thing when she feels mentally unstable. I just asked him if he was on board with the idea of asking the team to treat her a little better…so that she feels better again. She must’ve heard only the first part, shit.” he rubbed his temples. “Then go and fix it, you absolute dumbass of a man.” he was really not having it. “I will.” he stood up to go straight to your room. Four knocks, Bucky. “Y/N, can we please talk?” he asked with his softest voice. You ignored him deliberately, for good reasons. “I know why you’re mad but that’s not what I actually said.” his forehead was against your door. “Friday? Can you play the kitchen surveillance footage of Steve and me this morning. On her screen?” he asked and you took your headphones out. Your TV switched to a video of the kitchen. He made you relive this? Really? * “What’s wrong, buddy?” “I don’t know. I’m just concerned for Y/N.” “Why? Something wrong?” Steve asked concerned. “I know she probably doesn’t show it as obvious to the rest of you but she seems very mentally drained. But instead of putting herself first she keeps giving. She acts like she has pity for all of us. It makes me uncomfortable. She’s trying too hard. It concerns me, she’s overworking herself where she shouldn’t. She’s way too worried. I feel like she needs the same level of attention she gives to us and we’re not giving that to her.” “We should talk to the others about that.” Steve answered. “God, I love her. I just don’t want her to end up completely shattered.” “When did you plan on telling her?” “I don’t know. Probably when she starts getting better. I don’t want to be manipulative by accident.” “Hey, it’s gonna work out fine. Trust me.” he calmed down his friend.

*

With a shocked face your TV went back to a screen saver. Slowly and shaky you made your way to the door and opened it to see a Bucky that was internally beating himself up. “I’m so sorry.” he seriously looked like a hurt puppy. You closed the door behind him. “I didn’t know you were there. I said it in all the wrong ways. I should’ve stopped after the first two sentences. I was so worried for you. I’m so sorry.” he was a waterfall of words. “It’s okay, Bucky.” you both had sat down on your bed and you took his hands. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” you drew circles on the back of his hands to soothe him and get him out of his intrusive thoughts. “I’m so sorry.” he looked at you again. “Hey, it’s okay. We would’ve worked it out sooner or later. It’s okay.” you hugged him. “Why are you so nice to me after I made you feel so awful?” he asked in a shaky voice. “Cause there is an explanation for it and I love you. Why would I hold grudges against you.” you took his head into your hands. “Really. I mean it when I say it’s okay, Bucky.” now he grabbed you into a tight hug. “I’ll choose my words better next time. I promise.” he mumbled. “I hope Sam didn’t hurt you.” you giggled while the hug broke apart. “Smacked me over the head.” he huffed with a small smile. “Poor Bucky Bear.” you jokingly pitied him. “I hope you don’t change because of what I said. I love you the way you are, okay? Just…maybe try to overwork yourself less.” his hands went over your waist and hips. “Sorry I missed out on our journaling bit.” your hand went through his hair soothingly. “You know, I planned on confessing to you in a completely different way. Had it planned out.” he looked at you with a shy smirk. “You still have time,” you smiled, “What was the plan?” “Telling you why I call you Sugar Plum.” he chuckled. “And why do you call me that?” your grin got wider. “Sugar, cause that’s how I called girls in the 40’s. Plum because they are my favorite fruit and you’re my favorite person. You’re way more than my favorite person and I thought you deserve to know that.” A boyish but shy smile was on his face and he was blushing. “Gosh, hopeless romantic.” you rolled your eyes before closing the distance between the two of you. He pulled you onto his lap, one hand on your lower back, one hand messing with your hair. His lips were soft, tasted like cinnamon, the cinnamon buns you’d left on the coffee table. After he kissed you dizzy he looked at you with your messed up hair and kiss-swollen lips. “Still wanna journal together?” he asked with the happiest smile ever. “Of course. Don’t get too touchy feely tho.” you winked before climbing off of his legs and walked towards the door with a, “Friday, grant the team access to my room again when I’m in it. And Bucky also when I’m not in it.” he eyed you from behind with heart-eyes that were visible to Alaska. “Gosh, you can do that now without getting possibly caught. I’m not responsible for broken noses and dents in walls.” you smirked over your shoulder. This journaling date was definitely different from the others.