#she didn’t bother to leave any messages so I’m assuming it’s not horribly important and can wait until tomorrow

[tytoalbion]

Not looking forward to work tomorrow cause my boss called me 3 times after 5:30 and I ignored them all 😬

[sukirichi]

— out of reach | gojo x reader

request: Girllllll I just read your jealous gojo fic and my heart went 📈📈📈📈💥💥💥 youre now one of my fav writers 🙏🧎‍♀️And the spicy parts 😫😫😫 💖 If your asks are still open, could I please request a fic where GOJO has a size kink 🥺🥺🥺 my 5’1 ass is obsessed with that shizzzz 

pov: you’re gojo’s childhood friend and roommate – which leads to utter chaos – or perhaps utter bliss?

warnings: size kink, lots of teasing, lots of cursing, dirty talk, choking (probably not in the way you think), body worship, lots of size difference scenes, slight manhandling, overstimulation, thigh fucking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (don’t do this irl guys) + unedited fic :D

notes: idk what happened here LMAOOO but i loved writing this one because i’m short as hell too lol. thanks for this request anon, i hope you like it! <3

word count: 10.5k

masterlist ! 

If you’re going to be honest, having Gojo as a roommate is something completely unexpected.

Not only are you two from entirely different worlds – him as a jujutsu sorcerer and you as an average human who can’t see curses – but he’s also just someone who is entirely out of your league. He’s respected and looked up to in his field of work, while half of your co-workers don’t even know your name, much less notice you in function parties where you mostly just nibble on sushi before calling it a day and turning back home.

You and Gojo met in elementary school. You could tell from the way he’s surrounded by servants and stern looking adults, firm hands on his small shoulders, that he was different from everyone else.

Apparently, he comes from one of the three big clans in the jujutsu world or whatever. You honestly don’t care about any of that, because Gojo refuses to act maturely about his role in the clan. You still remember how quiet he was on the first day of school, never smiling and keeping to himself despite your persuasion to eat lunch with him or play with him after school in the courtyard.

You miss that Gojo Satoru – the quiet, serious kid who was far too gentle in his actions yet firm in his words and beliefs. When you were still a little girl, you admired how he seemed older than his age, a wistful look in those azure blue eyes of his that you’ve always loved.

To you, Gojo Satoru was your hero. You’ve always been one of the shortest kids in class, and it didn’t help that you really loved pigtails all the way until middle school that made you an easy target from immature people who’s being hit way too fast by puberty and growing each passing day. You never minded your short stature because really, it’s just height, but you couldn’t ignore how your confidence dwindled each day when they called you several array of nicknames.

Too shy to fight back, you’d laugh it off or force a smile.

Gojo wasn’t having any of it. He’d break his silence and immediately pull you to his side (which only made things worse because Gojo was one of the tallest kids in class, further emphasizing how small you are right next to him) before threatening to smack the kids right in the face.

The threat should be enough to land him detention, but because he’s Gojo Satoru, the golden kid everyone loved, they took his word seriously.

At the age of eleven, you started seeing your best friend as your knight in shining armour. Gojo basked in this, growing protective and always glaring at whoever snickered when you walked past them. Sometimes he even bared his teeth to hiss at them, which was honestly so ridiculous now that you think about, though the message – the threat – always came across loud and clear.

So yeah, you love Gojo, you still do.

Years flew by and the two of you grew apart due to work and also as a part of growing up. You still kept in contact, messaging each other once a month to ask the other how they’re doing. His work kept him extremely busy though, and Gojo didn’t want you involved in the dangers of what he’s doing, so he makes sure to keep a safe distance.

Until six months ago, you hear a banging on your door. You’re just about ready to throw hands because your former roommate moved out to live with her stoner boyfriend, leaving you to shoulder all the bills and responsibilities of maintaining a two man apartment.

A sneer forms on your lips as you swing the door open, a scowl already on your face. You assumed it was your roommate who returned to get the pair of lace panties they left in their room, but instead, your childhood friend stands before you, taller (seriously, how has he not stopped growing?) and definitely a lot hotter than the last time you saw him.

One thing leads to another, and now it feels like there was never such distance between the two of you with how easily you both fell back into a comfortable – yet chaotic – rhythm and routine of being each other’s roommate.

Not that you mind, of course. Gojo’s definitely changed a lot from when you were kids. He’s no longer that stiff or sensitive when it comes to others. In fact, it seems like he loosens up a lot more with age, because you can barely recognize the man living under the same roof with you now.

For one thing, Gojo is loud. Like really talkative, won’t shut the fuck up and speaks like he’s in a screaming contest with someone. It doesn’t matter if you’re taking an important phone call or sleepwalking at three in the morning to pee, Gojo is always creating some sort of ruckus.

You’d never admit it out loud, but you loved it. You love him.

He’s definitely a lot more enthusiastic and fun to be with now that both of you have grown up, or in Gojo’s case, simply aged. His maturity reversed backwards because it feels like you’re taking care of a little kid.

Not only does his body clock is practically non-existent, he’s also horrible when it comes to taking care of himself and being punctual with work.

Fortunately for him, you love him, and you both leave for work at the same time. You always wake up earlier to prepare breakfast so you’d both have energy to start the day – although you highly doubt there’s really anything that depletes his endless source of one.

Sleepily walking through the kitchen with your fist rubbing at your eyes, you rummage through the refrigerator for some eggs when you realize there’s none.

Huh, you think to yourself, scratching your scalp. You’re sure that Gojo went grocery shopping last week since it’s his chore to do the outside stuff like buying groceries and throwing thrash, so where did it go?

You open shelf by shelf, checking each corner and shoving cans aside to look for the tray. With a glare, you stand on your tiptoes to pull the pantry open, only to have your mouth fall aghast because it’s all there – right at the back where you can’t reach it!

Fucking Satoru, you grit your teeth while heaving your body up onto the counter. It’s a struggle because not only are your muscles still half asleep, but because the shelf is right in your face, and if you’re not careful enough, you could hit it right with your face and fall over. Of fucking course you know Satoru did this to make fun of you – and now you retract your statement over your best friend.

It’s all a lie.

He’s a pain in the ass. Why do you even bother cooking for him and letting him live literally just a room away when you know he won’t stop pulling shit like this?

Because, the nagging voice in your head tries to mock, he’s your best friend and you can’t really say no to him. This makes you huff as you carefully pull the tray towards you, hooking two fingers at the edge while your other palm grips at the end of the counter for support. No thanks to your short limbs, you’re practically hogging the shelf by now in an attempt to reach it. You look ridiculous, that’s for sure, and you make a mental note to keep Satoru’s windows open tonight so he freezes to death –

“Aw, cupcake,” a sing-song voice emerges from the other side of the room. “You look so adorable. You should’ve woke me up if you need my help.”

“Fuck off, Satoru,” you flip him off. The man only laughs, the rambunctious sound echoing off the walls. It’s way too early in the morning and he’s already so damn loud; something builds up at the back of your head out of frustration already. His grin only gets wider when you finally got the eggs and clutch it your chest, setting it down on the counter while wiping your sweat away from your face. “Freeloader,” you mutter under your breath, ignoring him when he happily skips over to you.

“Ouch,” he places a palm over his chest, although you both know he’s never really affected by anything. “So what’s for breakfast today? You?”

“You know, I can kick you out anytime I want. I’m being extremely nice even going as far to cook you breakfast before you leave for work, so don’t test my patience.”

“Exactly, my best friend is so kind,” Satoru grows the audacity to rest his arm on your head. This triggers a reflexive response from you; shoulders tensing up and hands curling into fists beside you. “I would totally date her if she wasn’t such a temperamental little devil,” you nearly stab him with a fork with his statement, which he thinks he’s being so sly for but you heard it, and you’re most definitely not pleased with it. “Okay, I’m kidding! I’m going to go shower now!”

You roll your eyes at him and heat the pan over with some oil, muttering under your breath that you’re really going to kick him out soon. As if things couldn’t get worse – as if Satoru couldn’t get any worse – he smacks your backside in the process before darting to the showers.

“Gojo Satoru!”

“Morning, best friend, love ya!”

You were right. He is a pain in the ass.

“You don’t always have to walk me to work.”

“I know.”

“So why’re you still here? I’m not a little kid anymore,” Contrary to your words, you stick closer to Satoru when the morning rush of workers and students begin to crowd the streets. Your best friend notices this with a small smile, his hand resting on the small of your back. “Don’t even try, Satoru.”

“I wasn’t saying anything.”

“I know that look on your face,” you fiddle with the buttons of your uniform, sighing when Satoru follows you inside the bus after tapping your phone for two seats. It’s not a surprise to you anymore that most of your expenses are spent by him, for him, and he lazily sprawls his long limbs across the seat before you pulling you down right next to him.

As much as you hate this man, especially because he smirks at the attention he’s receiving from women – even men – in the bus, you have to admit he’s warm and smells damn good. You bite the inside of your cheeks, looking around in slight self-consciousness before inching a little closer, just to feel his warmth. He’s comforting – irrationally so – so you set your bag between the both of you to keep your sanity. “If you keep doing this, Principal Yaga might fire your ass because you’re never on time.”

“Trust me, cupcake, he won’t. I’m too valuable for that.”

How you saw that coming – you can’t tell anymore. The bus ride is relatively quiet and eventless, with you dozing off every now and then because you’re never a morning person. Thankfully, Satoru is more respectful this time around, lolling your head until it drops to his shoulder. After that, he snakes his arm around your waist before resting it on your thigh as a way to say you don’t have to head bang every damn second and just sleep.

On any other occasion, you would’ve hated it. You always look so small whenever you’re in Satoru’s presence. It doesn’t help that he’s long and lanky, either, his slender fingers effortlessly caressing your thigh while almost your entire body is flushed next to him. But right now, he’s too warm, too soft, and you’re too tired that for just a little bit, you allow yourself to relax.

A beeping wakes you up a moment later. Opening your eyes, you push yourself off Satoru when you see an old lady reaching for the handles. No one gave up their seats for her even as the bus driver asked her to find a seat lest she’d fall.

“Grandma, here, take my seat—” You’re about to stand up and offer it to her when Satoru tugs you by the wrist. Because of your small, wobbly composure, pulling you to him takes little to no effort. You end up on his lap, sitting on him as if you’re nothing but a small, dainty schoolbag. Satoru is clearly enjoying this because you feel him breathily laugh on the back of your neck, charming – annoyingly so – as he gestures to the now empty spot beside him.

“It’s no worries, Grandma. She’ll be fine,” he gestures to you, patting your head like you’re some puppy. “Please, take a seat. The bus is already moving.”

“Satoru, get off me,” You wriggle yourself from his hold, which only ends up in wasted effort because this big oaf doesn’t even budge. He even bounces you on one of his thighs, and you dig your nails into his arms as a silent plead for him to stop. He ignores this, ignores your small whines and the apparent embarrassment that has you debating whether to punch him or hide yourself in the safety of his uniform.

“She’s a feisty little one, isn’t she?”

The old lady watches the two of you banter, giggling behind her wrinkled hands. “You’re an adorable couple.”

“I think so too!”

“You’re so going to pay for this, Satoru,��� you grumble, face planted onto your palms. This is it – the worst day of your life. It’s even worse because despite your protests, you have to admit his lap is actually comfortable. You’ve already known this before after countless times of cuddling with Satoru during movie nights, but its different when you’re both out in public. It feels...oddly intimate and maybe even romantic when he rubs soothing circles at your back, almost as if apologizing for this event. Most of all, you just hate the way something pools beneath your stomach at having him so close to you like this. “This is so embarrassing. I’m practically crushing you with my weight.”

“Please, cupcake, you barely weigh anything. I could easily lift you off with just my finger,” when you elbow him in the chest, Satoru only laughs, raising both hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I’ll stop teasing.”

You give up. No one seems to be paying much attention to any of you anyway, so you sigh, letting yourself hide in the crook of his neck as you watch the city pass through the windows. Your body moves as his chest rises and falls from his breathing, the movement oddly comforting. It’s embarrassing – it really is – but at least the grandma was comfortable until Satoru drops you off near your building.

“You don’t have to walk me all the way there.”

“Why not? You don’t want people to see us together or something?”

“No,” you stare at him from the corner of your eye. It’s no secret Satoru is attractive. This bastard knows it too, judging from the way he confidently and arrogantly swaggers next to you, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he walked with no care in the world. “My co-workers keep asking me for your number every time I tell them we’re not dating. It’s getting annoying at this point how they go Satoru this and Satoru that.”

“Am I hearing it right? Is cupcake jealous?”

“I’m not jealous, I’m disgusted,” you correct, “They don’t know how much of a pain you are to have around. They’re so focused with your looks that they completely overlook the fact you can’t even wash your dirty underwear!”

Satoru frowns at this, pointing his finger to you as if you’ve accused him of a huge crime. “Hey, I wash my underwear.”

“Yeah and last time you did, you mixed it with whites! My work uniform turned a stupid shade of blue! Now I can’t picture the colour of your boxers out of my head and it’s giving me a headache!”

“Wow, Y/N,” the smirk on his face and the sudden drop of nicknames lets you know you’ve said something wrong. Even behind his blindfold, you could tell his eyes are just sparkling with amusement. He’s enjoying this way too much. “I never thought you’d ever picture my boxers. I mean, I don’t mind showing it to you if you ask nicely—”

“Ugh, you’re so hopeless. I’m going to work.”

Gojo laughs when you jog away from him. He catches up with you in a matter of seconds, only having to take a few steps forward before he’s right beside you again. You’re unsure if you should be annoyed it’s so easy for him to always be right next to you, and how he almost always is right next to you while you prefer running away. It muddles with your heart and mind so much you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying not to be swayed by the sickeningly sweet sound of his laughter. “I can’t pick you up later, okay? I might work overtime!” (that’s a lie since Gojo prefers shopping and sightseeing)

Both of you know that’s a lie. Gojo never works overtime. He’s going to work for a few hours and so and call playing around with his students as “on-hand learning” before he goes shopping for stupid souvenirs and wild-flavoured mochis, then end his day by sightseeing and coming back home.

“Wasn’t expecting you to,” you mumble, waving goodbye to him as the office doors close. Slowly, Satoru’s grin and enthusiastic farewell fades into view until nothing but the pale, silver walls of your office greets you.

Funny how you claim to hate this man so much, yet the moment he’s out of sight, everything becomes dull and pointless.

It’s an absolutely shitty day. Your equally shitty boss blames you for something you didn’t even do, all because his incompetent secretary – who you’re sure he’s sleeping with – lost this month’s report and claimed she handed it to you last week when you’re not involved in that kind of work. Logic doesn’t come by them because your boss publicly humiliates and scolds you, calling you all kinds of names until tears are streaming down your face.

You slam the door shut the moment you get home, kicking your shoes off as you head straight to your room. You don’t bother taking your makeup off anymore as you change into a loose shirt and floral cotton shirts, padding to the kitchen after seeing Satoru is well nestled into the couch.

At least someone’s had a good day.

Seeing as the sink is empty, he probably hasn’t eaten dinner. This makes you sigh, because when will he ever learn to look after himself? He’s literally like a child.

Satoru pauses whatever he’s watching before he hovers over you, head tilted to the side as he gazes at you with curiosity. You ignore him and begin to set down some bowls and chopsticks for dinner, all the while Satoru is studying every inch of your tightly pulled face. “Bad day?” he concludes.

“Hmm.”

“Bad day it is then,” he nods to himself. “I can cook dinner, if you want.”

“And have you burn my apartment? No thanks,” you scoff, pushing him aside to retrieve the pans when you see that he’s placed them above again, even after you’ve reminded countless times to just leave it near the holders in the sink. “Ugh, why do you keep putting the pans in this shelf? You know I can’t reach this. I’ve had enough with you pulling pranks on me, and don’t think I’ve forgotten you placed my shampoo above the shower head today, you idiot,” you snarl and hop over the counter again to get the pans, trying your best to fight back the tears that are threatening to fall. “You’re really bothersome, you know that?”

“Then why don’t you kick me out?” he challenges, completely oblivious to how you’re struggling – both physically and emotionally. “You always complain about me being a nuisance here, but you’re not really doing anything to keep me out.”

“Because where else would you go?”

“Technically, I have a room back at the Institute.”

“Yeah, but because you’re so stupid and reckless that you got kicked out of your own home,” you spat out, and you watch as Satoru raises a brow at your statement. Banter is common between the both of you, but something about the intensity of your gaze lets him know you’re serious this time around. “I don’t even know how Yuuji puts up with you. That poor Megumi is right when he says you’re insufferable. You’re good for nothing!”

Satoru scoffs, “Fine, if you hate me that much, why didn’t you just say so earlier? I could easily pack my bags and go since I’m just making everything harder—” Satoru doesn’t get to finish what he’s saying when your hand over the counter that acts as support slips under you, and you fall, legs bent awkwardly while you scream, preparing yourself for the impact. The pan is long forgotten, your only thought was oh my god, so this is how I die.

But it never came, and you keep your eyes shut tight even as warm hands cup your ass. Satoru is breathing hard under you. Finally gaining the courage to crack an eye open, your breath halts when you see that he’s sitting on the floor, with you safely nestled between him.

Satoru has always had pretty eyes, but it’s rare he takes off his blindfold off even when he’s home. This is one of those rare occurrences that he seems like a normal human, dressed in a gray sweatshirt that hands low from his collarbones and magnetic blue eyes staring right back at you. His touch is gentle, almost as if he’s afraid to hurt you, and his voice that is usually loud and teasing comes out breathy and hesitant.

“Are you okay?”

Your gaze drops down to his lips. He’s close, so close, that if you just lean a little closer you could – you snap out of your daze. “Get off me.”

“Cupcake, you’re the one who’s on top of me,” his voice falls an octave lower, eyes flitting down to your clothing – or rather the lack of it – before Satoru takes a deep breath. “Did you really have to wear that?”

“I have the right to wear whatever I want in the comfort of my own home.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” he raised a brow, this time completely in control of himself as he gazes back up at you with a burning gaze. You see nothing but the way one corner of his lips tilt up, almost teasing, and he looks so much like a shit-eater that you feel heat crawl down your spine.

You push yourself off him but your bent foot behind you slips, and you fall forward with your hands clutching his strong shoulders. Satoru catches your leg behind you, drags it forward until your knee is pressed in between one of your warmth, very much still enjoying the way you wriggle away from his hold. He knows his effect on you – but you deny this wholeheartedly.

“Careful, cupcake. This isn’t a slip and slide.”

“I hate you so much,” you bare your teeth at him, slapping his chest until he finally lets go of you. Turning your back to him, you pick up the pan and begin preparing your dinner, muttering curses under your breath as you heat up the stove. “I’m kicking you out tomorrow.”

“Why not now?”

“Eat your damn dinner first.”

Dinner after that is awkward. Although Gojo is someone who can wolf down his meal in three seconds, he takes his time in eating to start conversation with you. Sometimes he asks decent questions like how your day was or he’d talk about something stupid, but he’s quiet the whole time. He even volunteers to do the dishes before retreating to his room, coating the house in silence.

It almost feels like you’re all alone over again.

You’ve gotten so used to him being an utter mess everywhere that when he’s not trying to piss you off and actually giving you the much needed peace, you begin to hate it. Memories of the rude things you’ve said to him a while ago play and in your head, and you bang your head against the wall repeatedly.

How are you supposed to apologize to Satoru now?

The answer doesn’t come until you stare at your walls, wide awake at midnight. The house is still eerily silent and you don’t stop shuffling around your bed in discomfort. Many times, you wished that Satoru would shut up and leave you alone, but now that he’s actually done that, it feels weird. Uncomfortable. It feels wrong.

With a grunt, you kick off the sheets and carefully tread to his room, knocking lightly in case he’s already sleeping. “Satoru?” you call out, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “Are you awake?”

You’ve seen Satoru angry as kids before, but what would he be like now? Would he still want to be your friend? Would he still annoy you by hiding your things somewhere you can’t reach? Or would he be the who is now out of reach? If he leaves...who’s going to walk you to work? Who’s going to complain he doesn’t want to do groceries but buys you things you don’t ask for but want anyway? Who’s going to keep teasing the living daylights out of you if not him?

All these thoughts claw at the back of your mind until your bottom lip trembles. You hate how weak you feel; how you’re never careful with your words.

You never meant it when you said all that.

Your train of thought is cut off when the door swings open, revealing an equally tired-looking Satoru. At the sight of you peering up at him with glossy eyes, he pushes the door wider and steps closer to you, his large hands cupping your face as he leans down in worry. “Cupcake,” his brows pinch together, “Did something happen? Is something wrong?”

“I just wanted to apologize for everything I said,” you blurt out, “I was just tired from work and my boss was being shitty, so I wasn’t totally myself that time and I’m really sorry I took my anger out on you. I didn’t mean it when I said you’re insufferable and that I’m kicking you out so – yeah,” you breathe out, trailing your gaze downwards to stare at your feet instead. It’s difficult to look him in the eye right now. When you finally gain courage to speak again, it barely comes out as a whimper, your hands delicately tugging at his shirt. “Please stay. I like having my best friend around here.”

Satoru doesn’t answer.

You’re about to look up at him just in case you’ve said something wrong, or worse, he refuses to forgive you, but then – “Yeah, I know you wouldn’t kick me out. You’re too much of a darling to say no to me.”

Sigh. Satoru laughs when he sees your shoulders deflate, absolutely shattered in exhaustion. Hiding your smile to now show him you’re relieved, you punch his chest that really feels like a fly had accidentally flew into him. “Way to ruin the mood, Satoru. And here I thought I could have a serious conversation with you for once.”

“Apology accepted,” he beams, tilting your chin upwards so you could look at him. Even in the darkness of his room, his eyes glow, leaving you hypnotized in its beauty. “Plus, I think I’m the one who should apologize. You’re right; I haven’t been the best roommate and I am a freeloader,” he scratches the side of his head in thought. “But I do buy you food all the time though.”

“Yeah, with my money,” you counter, but you don’t really care anymore at this point. You’re beyond elated you’re both fine now, and you shyly gesture to his big, warm bed that suddenly looks so comfortable. “Can I stay here for tonight?”

“You want Satoru’s bear hug?”

“Yes, I do.” There’s no hesitation in your words and you don’t complain anymore when he easily picks you up like a ragdoll using only one arm. He’s surprisingly gentle when he places you both down on the bed, sheets warm and soft as it blankets over you.

It would be perfect – except it’s so damn awkward.

Gojo’s long limbs are everywhere. Your face is pressed into his chest, both your legs tangled together. His arm is sprawled over the curve of your hip, his hand nearly grazing your ass that’s barely covered by the thin material of your shorts, but if he shifts, he’ll end up cupping the back of your thighs which is equally uncomfortable.

He seems to be stuck in the same position because you’re so small, and your knees are grazing his groin. Had he known you’re going to sleep with him, he would’ve worn underwear or even boxers under his sweatpants.

He’s never told you before, but he prefers to sleep in the nude. Satoru only picked up the nearest pair of pants when he heard you knock, and even then, he didn’t have the time to wear a shirt.

Your breath is hot on his skin and he’s so sensitive and aware of all your movements. Satoru clears his throat awkwardly, shifting until his arm lightly holds your back instead, but then he pulls away as if he’s touched fire when he’d unknowingly fiddled with your bra clasp instead. It’s so painfully awkward that Satoru chuckles above you, while you scrunch your nose, silently praying to the heavens above that he won’t hear how loud your heart is beating right now.

“Why is it so hot in your own room?”

“Maybe it’s time you get me an AC.”

“You wish, Satoru,” you mumble beneath him, making yourself as comfortable as you can with your cheek resting on his bicep. It’s not the softest pillow considering he’s pretty muscular, but he’s warm and smells like mint spice nevertheless. “You’re really not going to put on a shirt?”

Satoru sighs, a long and loud one that is extended for dramatic purposes. Suddenly, he pushes your knee off of him, grimacing and thanking the darkness that you can’t see how much he’s struggling right now. “Cupcake, this is hard for me as much as it is for you. You’re barely wearing anything.”

“Since when have you cared about what I wear?”

“I’m a man, Y/N,” is what he reasons with, “You’re lucky it’s me. Had it been someone else and you crawled into their bed wearing these—” Satoru pinches the waistband of your shorts, and you squeal in protest, only making him laugh afterwards before he lets it go and the material snaps back at your skin, “—poor excuse of what you call shorts, I can’t guarantee they’ll give you a peaceful night.”

You know exactly what he’s trying to hint at. Still, it’s hard to believe that Satoru is capable of seeing you that way.

It’s not that you feel you’re unattractive. You know you’re pretty and have been out on many dates, but it’s easy to feel that you’re not sexy when you have the height of a thirteen year old and you’ve been constantly chastised about it.

Satoru’s not-compliment compliment has your heart skipping a beat, and you scoff in response. “Shut up,” you warn lamely, “I want to sleep.”

“Then let’s sleep, cupcake.” You don’t know if it’s because you’re utterly exhausted that you doze off seconds later or if Satoru’s words just held power in them, but soon all thoughts of anything unwanted drifts out the window, his arms keeping you close, completely safe and sound until the worst nightmares couldn’t even come close.

Hot. It’s extremely hot.

You crack an eye open to try and find the source of this uncomfortable heat, but you freeze when you realize you can’t feel your muscles from the chin down. Panic rises in your throat once you see the current predicament you’re in, and a scream rips through your throat so loud that the birds outside scurry away in a flurry.

You’re wrapped in Satoru’s blanket and comforter, rendering you unable to move because of how he’d treated you like a burrito wrap. Even your toes are captured inside this hell, and only your head is able to wriggle side to side.

“Satoru!”

The culprit comes out of the shower a split second later, his hair dripping wet and only a towel hanging low from his lips. If you weren’t so hell-bent on killing him, you would’ve been speechless at the way water drips from his hair down to the curves of his abs, going down down down into a place only your darkest imaginations could take you.

Satoru bends over in laughter as he whips out his phone, jumping from angle to angle and side to side to take photos of you. “Fuck,” he howls, slapping his thigh while you snarl in an attempt to break free. “You’re a lot cuter than I thought you’d be.”

“Satoru! Get me out of here!”

“No, this is way too gold. I’m sending these to my students.”

“Satoru, I’m serious!” The devil incarnate himself falls deaf to your please.

Maybe it’s because the violent intent has coursed through your veins so strongly that a surge of energy and strength overcomes you, and soon, you’ve rolled out of the blanket. The fresh air nipping at your heated skin is most welcomed, but right now, you had a mission to fulfil: obliterate Gojo Satoru.

The platinum haired man is still laughing to himself, too distracted in scrolling through the best photos to send to his students that he doesn’t notice you escaping and zooming straight right at him.

The momentum is enough to catch him off guard until you end up on top of him, short arms clawing your way through to snatch his phone. Satoru yelps when his phone lands out into the living room and your hands come down to choke him. You don’t have plans to kill him, but you want to hurt him enough to remind him you’re not someone he can fuck with.

You’ve just about had enough of this man and you’re so sick of him!

Satoru yells out a “Hey!” when you let out a battle cry, using your legs to kick him back when he tries to sit up. Your plan backfires when your hands slip down his wet skin and you fall face forwards, hands barely touching the ground for support when your lips come crashing down on his.

He stills underneath you. It takes a moment for you to realize that holy shit, you’re kissing him and his lips are so soft that has you scrambling back, but Satoru doesn’t let you.

His large hand comes up at the back of your neck to pull you forward. The sudden movement makes you gasp, and Satoru slips his tongue inside when you do so. You no longer remember how you got here or try to make sense of what’s going on, because he feels so good, tastes so good that you bury your nails in his hair while he ravishes your mouth.

You’re so tiny that his hand cups your entire buttcheek almost possessively, a low growl emanating deep in his throat when your tongue eagerly intertwines with his. Satoru tastes like heaven and everything about the kiss is sloppy – tongue clashing with one another and teeth nibbling at the other’s lips. It’s clear both of you can’t get enough of one another as you moan in his mouth, shamelessly grinding on his crotch, suddenly thankful that you’re always wearing thin clothes when you feel him harden underneath you.

“Fuck, baby,” he pulls away to breathe, a string of saliva connecting the both of you. “Yeah, just like that,” There’s something empowering about the way he pants at your ministrations, especially when you roll your hips faster across his erection. “Keep going, baby, you’re doing – fuck – so well.”

You smirk at his praises, latching your teeth on his neck to suck marks on them. Satoru groans at the same time you muffle your moans through his skin, his hands sliding under your shirt to tug the cups of your bra down. You nearly lose it when he pinches your nipple, bolts of electricity running down your spine at the contact. A moan breaks through your lips just as you come right there and then, the wetness of your sudden orgasm barely hidden in your flimsy underwear.

“Feel good?” he teases and drags your shirt down to the other side, but the post-nut clarity hits. And when it does, it hits hard.

Fuck. You just came from Satoru’s simple touches, and he’s so unsatisfied, still painfully hard underneath you but nothing but panic and regret washes over you like a strong tidal wave. Suddenly, you grow lightheaded as you push yourself off him, fixing your bra while ignoring the confused and hurt look on his face.

“I gotta go to work,” you run out the room, feeling your body tremble as Satoru runs after you. “Make yourself breakfast. I’ll eat on the way out.”

“Y/N, wait!”

You know you’ve just ruined everything – that nothing will ever be the same after that – but you’re scared, utterly and remorsefully so, that you slam the door right in his face as if you don’t have any idea how much you broke him.

You’ll never forget the way Satoru’s face fell when you left.

Just as you thought, nothing is the same after that. The tension is so thick around the apartment you make an effort and go out of your way just to avoid him and the apartment completely.

It’s cowardly – you know this much – but do you ever try to fix the friendship you cherish but shattered completely? You don’t. You don’t because it only crashes down onto you now that maybe your feelings for him aren’t just platonic, after all. It’s even worse because you touch yourself at the thought of him filling you up when he’s asleep, all because you want him so bad and the mere presence of him has your brain malfunctioning.

It isn’t entirely sexual either. Yes, you want to fuck him badly, but it scares you down to the core even more because you want so much more than that.

Now you understand why you always say he’s a bother but never asked him to leave. It’s because you like him, actually romantically interested in him. It makes sense now why you always felt so annoyed whenever your co-workers asked for his number, or how you’re immediately pissed off when Satoru talks about this hot woman he saw at work. You always chalk it up to an excuse you just hate how he can’t keep in his pants, but it isn’t true at all.

It’s because you actually like him – and you’re at a loss on what to do or how to deal with it.

The next few days feels like hell. Satoru isn’t stupid; he knows you’re avoiding him. He stops teasing you eventually and even buys takeout all the time when you lock yourself up in your room right after work, refusing to cook dinner or even eat all so you’d be spared the torture of looking at him.

He’d knock at your door and ask you to eat, but other than that, he’s respected your distance.

You feel like the most terrible person on earth. You don’t miss the way dark circles line under his eyes or how he’s lost his spark, barely even speaking to you when you’ve come or about to leave for work.

You’re alone the whole ride, as well, and it only dawns on you how lonely you are when Satoru isn’t always annoying you all the time.

But it doesn’t make sense. Why is he so bothered by it? Didn’t he regret it? It’s painfully clear you’re not Satoru’s type. You’ve seen the women he dated before, and you’re not close to them so why does he seem like he’s struggling with this as well? Or maybe...he’s just sad that his friend is avoiding him.

Yeah, that has to be it.

Satoru is a man. He was probably turned on at that time, but after giving some thought about it, he probably wants to keep his distance too. He’d be insane if he ever actually wants to date you – his best friend out of all people – because he’s Gojo Satoru and he could literally have everyone else.

You don’t care that you’re a coward.

You don’t care that Satoru is sad to see you this way.

You don’t care because you know he’ll reject you, you know he’ll be weirded if you admit your feelings for him. To him, you’re like his little sister. There’s just no way you two would work out. For now, you have to get comfortable with the uncomfortable. You just need some time to get over your feelings for him, and when you’re confident you won’t fall for him again, you’ll mend your friendship.

You just need time.

“So, Y/N, you still don’t want to give us your friend’s number?”

“Yeah, Y/N, you should share it,” your co-worker encourages by jabbing her shoulder to yours. It’s a lazy Friday night and the staff went out for dinner. You don’t usually come to these hangouts since dinner with Satoru is always much more fun, but he’s the last person you want to think about now, so you happily join them. Now, though, you’re starting to regret ever coming here. “If he’s really single like you said, then it shouldn’t be a big deal to ask for it.”

“Well, since you want it so badly, why don’t you ask him directly for it instead?” you snap, feeling anger begin to trickle. All you wanted was just one day where you don’t have to think of him, but of course they had to bring him up. It’s also annoying how they can never seem to get the message across that you don’t want them dating him. “Why do I have to be the messenger?”

“We haven’t seen him much. Doesn’t he always walk you to work?”

“He’s been busy with his job, that’s all.” And also because I’m avoiding him – so now he’s avoiding me too.

“He’s a teacher, right?”

“Oh, come on, guys, don’t be so dense,” your senpai chugged her drink rather loudly, catching the attention of your nosy co-workers who wouldn’t stop pestering you for his number. “Look at how uncomfortable she looks. It’s obvious she doesn’t want you guys to be involved with her friend for a reason. Think of how weird it is for her too if ever her co-worker and best friend dated. She’s going to feel like a third wheel.”

“I’m not—”

“That makes sense,” your co-worker nodded beside you, “Are you sure you just don’t like him though?”

“Ew, why would I?” the food began to taste bitter through your lies, “He may be tall and attractive, but as his roommate, I’ve seen his ugly side. Satoru is a complete slob and can’t even cook to save his life.”

“I don’t mind cooking for him all the time if I were to be his little housewife.”

“That’s never gonna happen,” your words came out harsher than it was, and you laugh it off with a wave of your hand when your co-workers’ eyes widened. “I’ve been living with him for six months and he’s never brought anyone home or told me he’s going on a date. I told you already, he’s a no strings attached kind of guy. He’s nothing but a one night stand.”

“You have to admit he’s still sexy though.”

Right. You hide your groan through another shot because there’s no way of convincing them otherwise. As much as you hate to admit, you’re actually jealous on how freely they could talk about him like that, but then again, it’s not like you and Satoru were dating – or would ever date, for that matter.

They start to leave one by one when it starts to get late, leaving only you who’s still desperate to avoid Satoru. Nothing prepares you for when the sky darkens and a storm comes pouring just as you’ve left the closing shop, the rain drenching and soaking your clothes through and through. Running under the nearest tree for shelter, you shiver. It’s cold – way too cold – and curse yourself for not bringing a darned umbrella.

The nearest bus stop is like what, fifteen to twenty minutes away? Your teeth are chattering and your legs are shaking, and you fumble through your phone as you dial a number you know by heart before you even realize what you’re doing. “S-Satoru?”

“Y/N,” the surprise is unmasked in his voice, something shuffling in the background before it falls silent. “Is everything okay?”

“Uhm, are you busy right now? It’s fine if you are, I’m just—”

“I’m training with Yuuji, but what is it?”

“Listen, I,” you inhale sharply when coldness bursts through your body, making you shiver and press yourself closer to tree to get away from the rain. Above you, thunder crackles before the rain grows heavier and angrier. “I forgot to bring an umbrella and I’m absolutely soaked right now. The nearest bus stop is fifteen minutes away and all the buildings here look so shady—”

“I’ll be on my way. Text me where you are,” You nod and thank him, too cold and numb to realize you’ve just broken days of silence. You lose track of time under there, hugging yourself until your lips turn blue. It doesn’t take long before Satoru shows up minutes later, his hair equally drenched and sticking flat to his eyes free from his blindfold while he pants, hand on his knees. “Thank goodness you’re safe. I rushed here so fast I forgot to bring an umbrella.”

After seeing Satoru drenched like that, something snaps within you. He doesn’t seem bothered by the fact the rain is unforgiving as it slaps the pavement, and your heart breaks when you see that he’s more concerned for you – even after you’ve given him the silent treatment. “You idiot! Now you’re soaking wet too, you’re going to get sick!”

“Highly unlikely,” he shrugs. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“But what about—” Satoru suddenly carries you before draping his coat over your head, running until he found a cab to hail. He immediately asks the driver to turn up the heater while you tremble on top of him, not caring anymore that you’re sticking so close to him for heat.

Satoru doesn’t let you go all the way inside the apartment. He sets you down on the couch where you take off your wet clothes in haste, too cold with teeth chattering that you silently take the hoodie and boxers Satoru offers you, making sure to keep his gaze averted the whole time. Once fully dressed, you snuggle back into the sofa’s comfort, stiffening when the couch dips beside you.

Not a moment later, Satoru towel-dries your hair, leaving your mouth and throat dry with guilt. Even after you’ve unnecessarily been a bitch to him, he’s still so kind with you.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Satoru...” you twiddle with your thumbs just as he starts to ruffle the towel in your hair, making sure to squeeze water out of the strands as he dries it. “About what happened the other day—”

“It didn’t happen if you don’t want it to,” his voice is cold’ monotonous and so emotionless you’re rendered speechless. “You can forget about it.”

“I...”

“You regret it, right?” he’s done with drying your hair, and he stands up to place the wet towels in the sink as you watch him stride all the way there. He’s changed his clothes too; looking comfortable in a plain white shirt and some grey sweatpants, looking every bit the domestic boyfriend you’ve always wanted but can never have. “It’s fine. We can forget about it and go back to normal,” to emphasize his point, Satoru winks at you, though it does nothing but make your heart sink.

“What if I don’t want to forget it?” your voice is small; hesitant and wavering with fear. “What if...the only reason I pulled away is because I wanted more of you?”

Satoru’s back freezes as he sets the towel aside. At this point, your heart is pulsing on your tongue, and you dig your nails onto your thighs when Satoru sits down next to you, right next to you. He’s silent the whole time; eyes calculatedly piercing through yours. Your breath hitches when his hands that are burning hot against your cold skin cups your jaw before his thumb runs across your lips, his eyes turning dark at your reactions.

“And what if I said I felt the same way?”

“I,” you gasp, closing your eyes because it all feels so surreal. “I like you, Satoru. I like you a lot and I—” he doesn’t let you finish. Soon, you find yourself in his lap with his hands cupping your cheeks while he smashes his lips onto yours.

Satoru is absolutely feral. He’s breathing hard and almost angry, even, with the way his teeth are biting down to nibble on your lips. You moan when he drags you closer, your clothed centre rubbing on his thigh with delicious friction. “You have no idea,” he rasps down on your lips, “how much I’ve fucking liked you ever since we were kids,” Satoru pushes his hoodie aside, revealing your sweet neck to him, and he doesn’t waste his time in sucking and abusing the poor flesh so he can mark you as his. “I’ve always wanted you, Y/N, it’s always you, always you.”

You fist his hoodie when Satoru sinks his teeth down into the juncture of your neck, his hands curious and exploring every inch of your body. He knows you’re naked underneath his clothes, but it’s a different thing when he actually feels your breasts right on his palm. Satoru tweaks the hardened bud in his fingers, growling when you moan at the contact and use his thigh to get off.

“You—” you gasp as you expose your neck to him, wild and needy as you keep rubbing your heat over his thigh. “—talk way too fucking much,” you scold, finally pushing his lips away from your neck. Satoru chuckles at your eagerness but you silence him by flinging his boxers off of your body and somewhere far away, exposing your heat slick with arousal right in front of him. His pupils blow in excitement, hands coming up to grab at your hips, but his attention is taken away when you nibble on his ear to whisper, “Shut up and fuck me.”

The simple command is enough to make his patience snap. In a flash, you’re pinned underneath him, whining and moaning when his finger meets no resistance as he slips it inside. “You’re that needy, huh?” he laughs even louder when you lose it, humping yourself on his finger because it’s not enough.

“Satoru,” you beg, clutching his bicep when he adds another finger in. “More.”

His fingers are so long, hitting places that your small ones could never reach. He begins to scissor his way in, his fingers deliciously rubbing against your velvety walls while pumping them inside and out in a speed that causes you to squelch around him.

It’s absolutely lewd how you’re eagerly spread out before him, but your head is clouded with lust, no longer hindered by shyness out of your need to cum. Your chest is rising heavily, his thumb now rubbing against your clit as he coaxes you to cum. “Tell me what you want, baby,” he kisses your cheeks, eyelids, nose, anywhere but your lips, his voice so gentle and innocent as if he’s not knuckle deep inside you. “Tell me how you want me.”

“Inside,” you whine, gasping when he brushes against a really sensitive spot that has you clamping down on him. “‘Toru, fuck, just fuck me.”

“Beg for it,” he smiles against your skin, relentless and harsh as he keeps pushing inside you. You feel him everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Another finger adds in until you’re dripping enough on his palm and staining the couch, but neither of you care. “I said, beg for it.”

“No,” you hold back, nearly crying out when he pulls your fingers out of you. That sudden emptiness is back again, but you don’t want to beg. You’ve never begged another man before, and this won’t be the first time you’ll be doing so either. You refuse to let him have the upper hand despite the crystal clear fact you’re already soaking wet for him, but because you’re stubborn, you only fumble with his sweatpants to spring his cock free.

He’s already dripping with pre-cum from the slit, his cock hard and angry. Despite his arousal, Satoru stops you from going further, using only one hand to trap both your wrists. “Beg for it,” he demands again, his other fist already pumping down on his shaft.

You nearly cry at the sight. Both of you are aware that Satoru is capable of pleasuring himself, but it’s not that easy for you. Your small, dainty fingers will never be parallel to the pleasure his long cock could give you. All you had to do was beg for it. He’s right there, within reach, if only you’d just –

Impatient for your answer, Satoru takes you by the hips and discards your hoodie in the process, sinking you down his cock, inch by delicious inch. You don’t hold back from the sensual and high-pitched moan that leaves your lips. He’s long, and the tip of his cock just about brushes your cervix when he bottoms out. He feels so good, so warm and huge and filling you up right where you want him to be. Your head falls down on his shoulder as you begin to roll your hips, but Satoru has had enough.

“Fuck, look at you,” he presses on the bulge of his cock visible through your abdomen. “You’re so fucking small – how do you take me so well? I could ruin you. Do you want that? Do you want me to ruin you?”

“Yes, yes, fuck.”

“You think you can just leave me hanging like that, huh?” he slaps your ass, eliciting another moan from you and making you clench around his cock. Satoru falters for a moment. Before you can react, he stands up, your legs wrapped around his waist with nothing but his tip hitting inside you. “You’ve been so fucking mean – leaving me wanting you like that and ignoring me for days. Do you think you deserve this, huh?” Satoru kicks his door open at the same time he loosens his hold around your ass, making you slide down his length the next second.

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out just as Satoru begins to bounce you, your breasts following the motion of him fucking deep into you. “Fuck, Toru, that’s too—”

He’s so eager to fuck you, to make a mess out of you and have you losing your mind over his cock that he doesn’t even wait until you’re both on the bed. You no longer register when your back hits the pillow, or how your arms are frozen when he pins it above your head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he praises as he watches you clench around him. You’re so small and his eyes zero in on the way your abdomen bulges then flattens again every time he pounds into you, rolling his hips in a way that has you screaming and thighs quaking. “Beautiful, beautiful, perfect,” the moment his hands grip at your hips to pin you down, you know he’s not going to stop. And you don’t want him to.

Satoru latches his lips around your right breast, gently grazing his teeth over it while his other hand pinches and rolls the pebbled nipple between his fingers. He feels so good – and you’re crying already by the time you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer.

The room is filled with the smell of sex, the sound of skin slapping against skin combined with his breathy grunts and your moans like heaven on his ears. Satoru wants you to feel how much he loves you – how much he adores you – and the pace he sets is torturous. He snaps his hips against yours and presses down on the bulge of his cock through your belly, chuckling when you tighten more around him.

Your head lols to the side, tears falling down your pretty face because of how rough he’s being. But you don’t complain, not when he’s filling you in so deep and he’s kissing you everywhere, touching you everywhere, making you feel nothing else and nobody else but him.

“You’re amazing,” he rasps, watching the way your tight cunt sucks him in greedily as if you don’t want him to go anywhere else. “You take me in so well – you really want me to destroy you, huh?”

“Satoru, please,” you finally plead, “I-I’m cumming, I want you, I need you, oh,” you squeal when he finally lets your arms free. You look so precious, so innocent, and he doesn’t let up his pace. He plants his feet into the ground and his strokes begin to grow sloppy, your tight walls encouraging him to go faster, go deeper.

If possible, Satoru is only even more fuelled with the way you look so precious and innocent in that moment. His touch is gentle in comparison to the way he’s mercilessly plowing into you, using his thumb to wipe away the tears streaming down your cheeks. He knows he’s too big for you, that much is obvious from how much you’re already overstimulated just by his size, but your nails sink down on the flesh of his ass as a silent plead for more.

“Fuuuuck, I’m so close!”

“Yeah?” He fondled your clit, loving the sight of your small body creaming down on his cock. “Come for me, sweet girl. I want to feel you coming on my cock. Come on, tell me you’re mine. You’re made me for aren’t you?”

“Yes, Satoru, fuck,” you squeal, throwing your head back for a second when he keeps hitting your g-spot that has you seeing stars. Your toes curl and your hands fist the sheets behind you as he keeps impaling you with his cock right then and there.

You looked perfect; so perfect to him that he’s basically using you for his own pleasure at this moment. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, back arching and nipples brushing against his chest.

In that moment, you grow needy to have him even closer, tilting up to blindly search for his lips. Satoru complies; leaning down and leaving open mouthed breathy kisses that’s a mix of you moaning and crying around him, while he struggles to do so when he’s cursing at the feeling of you coating his cock with your juices. Satoru looks down at your tiny frame trapped in his arms, his voice husky as he groans once he saw both of your arousal absolutely leaking out of your wet cunt.

He’s so close but you’re already over the edge, scratching at his back at the overstimulation. You’re still so sensitive from when you came and Satoru doesn’t slow one down one bit. He loses his rhythm as his thrusts go sloppy, and Satoru buries his face in your neck as his cock twitches inside you until he bursts with his cum leaking out of your hole.

Satoru’s arms give out beneath you, his chest colliding with yours but not enough that he’s crushing you with his weight. You’re both breathing hard and panting, his dick softening inside you.

He pulls back a moment later to slide out his sensitive cock, wincing while he watches pools of cum gather in your pussy before it drips out. It isn’t until he’s witnessing the mess he’s made he realizes how you’ve been so good for him; taking him all the way in despite your quivering frame. It dawns on him now just how tiny you are when he pulls you close to him; you’re practically hanging off his chest with how small your body is.

He wonders how you’re able to fit all of him, but he’s grateful nevertheless. Satoru shows his appreciation by peppering kisses all over your face, his hand snaking down to caress your inner thighs.

“Hmm,” you moan into the kiss, jolting when his knuckles brush against your sensitive clit. “Satoru, no,” you whine while pushing his hand away, and he shushes you with another kiss. “’M too sensitive, please...”

“It’s fine, cupcake, it’s fine,” his nickname for you is back again, and you lean closer to him just as he begins to massage your sore legs. “You did so well for me, cupcake, you know that? You’re such a good girl for me,” too fucked out to have a comprehensive answer, you only nod in response, spreading your legs open again and ignoring the warm stickiness between your thighs as Satoru kneads your abused flesh. You feel him kiss your temple before he leaves to get a towel and cleans you up. Meanwhile, you’re so tired you’re about to doze out in his bed.

“Hey,” he soothes, bundling you up in his arms until you’re tucked in the safety of his body. So small, he coos inside his head, watching as you fold yourself even smaller while your eyes flutter. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you sigh into his shoulder, “I feel good. Thank you.”

Satoru doesn’t really know what you’re thanking him for. He feels like he’s the one who’s mostly indebted to you after everything you’ve done for him. You’ve already fallen asleep before he gets the chance to tell you how he feels, so Satoru only covers you both under his blanket, making sure there’s no more space between you out of fear you’ll distance yourself from him again.

But he doesn’t have to worry about that because you’re right next to him, and you’re never out of reach.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

#10: Felix, Part Two: The Episode Itself

Here’s Part 1

So, uh... here's the thing. I was going to divide this post into three parts, but I had to cancel the third part where I analyze the stuff involving Astruc defending the episode on Twitter, specifically a certain scene that really showed off some serious double standards in regards to the way Adrien is being written, because Astruc deleted most of his tweets regarding the episode. I wonder why he did that? I thought he wanted to expose himself publicly and interact in a peaceful way.

So yeah, instead of a big three-parter, this is going to be a two-parter, and I apologize for that. I might be able to do a third part if anyone has any screenshots of some of the tweets Astruc made after “Felix” aired. If you did, I would really appreciate it, but if not, it's fine.

Either way, let's just get this over with, because I have SO MUCH to talk about. My friend, can your heart stand the shocking facts about Season 3, Episode 23 of Miraculous Ladybug, “Felix”?

So we start off with what Gabriel does for half of his scenes when he isn't Hawkmoth, monologuing to his (possibly) dead wife, Emilie about how Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous will soon be his and all that crap. Sure, he's sent God knows how many Akumas after Ladybug and Cat Noir, and they've all failed miserably, but I'm positive he's getting close to his goal.

After he finishes cleaning his and Emilie's silver wedding rings that sadly don't allow them to transform into Ultraman Ace, Gabriel goes to check on Adrien, singing to a statue of Emilie (glad to see the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree), intending to tell him that he is Hawkmoth.

Gabriel: There is something important I have to talk to you about. I think about telling you every day, but I don't know how to find the right words.

Adrien: I think I already know, father.

Gabriel: But, how?

Adrien: I've noticed how close you and Nathalie have become. If she can make you happy again, then... as far as I'm concerned, she's already part of our family.

Yeah, apparently it's obvious that Gabriel and Nathalie are close or something, with how casually Adrien assumes they're planning on starting a relationship. I mean, it's not like Nathalie is close to Gabriel because she's his secretary or something like that.

Gabriel's response isn't any better, as he immediately jumps down Adrien's throat for daring to assume he might try to move on from his wife.

Gabriel: How could you possibly think such a thing?! Nobody could ever replace your mother! As long as she is still in our hearts, she lives on!

Even Adrien's face shows he's a little taken back by his father's brief outburst.

Part of me likes to assume that Plagg is trying to not break out into laughter at how crazy Gabriel sounds, while Nooroo is mentally questioning the sanity of his master.

Plagg: Wow! Your father's like a piece of tomme cheese, where the rind's so thick it's almost impossible to get inside the center.

Adrien: Don't be so hard on him, Plagg. It's been a year today since Mom... went away forever.

Oh my God, just say she DIED already! Why are so many kids' shows afraid to say the D-word? How can I cite an episode of Caillou of all shows as something that that actually talked about death to it's audience in a nuanced way?

It turns out that Adrien's aunt is visiting for the day, as it's the one-year anniversary of Emilie's “going away forever”. We also learn that the gene pool in Adrien's family is so shallow, a toddler could swim in it, because Emilie's sister looks exactly like her.

Even better, her name is Amelie. I bet the parents thought naming their kids Emilie and Amelie was hilarious for like three minutes.

And of course, she also brought her son, the asshole of the hour.

Someone cue the Imperial March.

So Felix is finally here, and of course, he looks just like Adrien. It's almost like the animators didn't want to create any new character models for this episode, so they thought nobody would notice if they just reused a few. Seriously, towards the end of the episode, we see Felix wearing the Cat Miraculous on his hand, and none of the animators noticed it.

So while Adrien is happy to see his cousin, Felix isn't. I'll talk more about it in a minute.

Amelie mentions that the wedding rings are actually heirlooms in her side of the family, so she naturally wants them back. Of course, Gabriel, being Gabriel, responds accordingly.

Gabriel: These rings are obviously very special to me.

Amelie: And they're very dear to me too, Gabriel. Those jewels have always been in the Graham de Vanily family, not the Agreste's.

Gabriel: We'll discuss it later.

“Yeah, yeah, these rings are priceless family heirlooms or whatever, but why can't you think about how important they are to me?”

Meanwhile, Marinette and her friends are planning on recording some messages for Adrien to cheer him up on this day, but Marinette isn't sure what to say before she decides to confess her love to him. I'm sure Adrien will get the message and return Marinette's feelings this episode... and Cliff Hanger will finally escape that cliff he's been hanging from for years.

Speaking of, Adrien and Felix are hanging out in the former's room where we learn that Felix's father passed away recently. We don't know how long, but with the way they talk about, it's clear the funeral wasn't too long ago. Keep this in mind.

So while Adrien leaves the room to get a chess board for the two to play a game of, Felix, for no reason, decides to search through Adrien's things and crush a piece of cheese that Plagg had been aging for two weeks. And here is the interaction that helps this episode go from mediocre to aggravating, just because of what they imply here.

Adrien: Listen, Plagg. Felix lost his dad not so long ago, he's probably not himself.

Plagg: I'm sorry, but there's just no excuse! You never touch my cheese, and yet, you just lost your mother not so long ago, right?

Yes. The show is actually implying that Adrien is better than Felix because Adrien isn't acting out because his mom “went away forever”. Keep in mind, we know that Felix just lost his father, while Adrien has had a year to cope. I'm not saying he can't be sad anymore, as everyone processes grief differently, but you can't set up Felix as a foil to Adrien just because they both lost a parent, as their situations are entirely different.

Oh, and when Plagg's statement upsets Adrien, it isn't because he's angry at Plagg for making the comparison, it's because he mentions Emilie. And this argument is never brought up again.

I still can't believe this episode is basically saying that even if you lose a loved one, that's no excuse to get emotional. This isn't just a horrible lesson to teach children, but it pisses me off on a more personal level. Why?

My grandfather died last year after a long battle with lung cancer.

He had been in and out of the hospital for a few years at this point, and part of me was relieved that he was finally free of the pain. I tried not to let it bother me, as I had already mentally prepared myself for the day he would die whenever he was readmitted to the hospital. But it was still painful to go through because he was so important to me. Instead of simply telling someone how I was feeling, I threw myself into my schoolwork in an effort to distract myself from actually confronting my emotions. After seeing A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, a movie where the main character made peace with his father on his deathbed with some encouragement from Mr. Rogers, it made me think about how unhealthy it was to bottle up my emotions, so I started to open up more about how I was feeling. When I told my mom (who was his daughter) about why I was so conflicted regarding his death, she said it was completely understandable, as she had been an emotional wreck as well. I also talked with my therapist about how this was affecting me mentally.

What does this have to do with the episode? I don't think Felix had access to this kind of emotional support when his dad died, or that he tried coping the same way I did initially.

And the worst part is that this could have been used to teach people a lesson on how to cope with losing a loved one. Maybe Adrien could have helped Felix find a healthier coping mechanism, or simply help him open up emotionally, teaching him that it's okay to be upset when someone close to you dies, but that you just need to be honest about your feelings.

But no, rather than portray Felix's actions as a troubled youth lashing out because he's angry at the cards the world dealt him, Felix does several awful things this episode for no other reason than because he's evil, even though he has a good reason to hate Adrien and Gabriel.

So the very next scene, we see Felix has stolen Adrien's phone and is going through the messages that Adrien's friends sent him, but not before insulting his crush on Ladybug. I'm not sure if that's supposed to reflect the fandom's criticism of Adrien's crush on Ladybug, but I wouldn't be surprised if it was.

Nino's Message: Hey, my dude! I'm not quite sure what to tell you, except that, you're my man, dude! And bros are always there for their guys!

Felix: (Mockingly) “Bros are always there--” blah, blah, blah! Moron.

Rose's Message: Unicorns have a saying: even when there's nothing but gray skies and rain, all it takes is one little sunbeam for a rainbow to appear!

Felix: Loser.

Max's Message: It's one hundred percent proven, you should feel fifty-two percent happier with a healthy dose of laughter. So Markov has uploaded a few jokes for you! Starting with--

Felix: Freak.

Chloe's Message: When my mother left for New York, I felt so sad. It felt like she was... (sighs) She came back, and I know how lucky I am. So, you can count on me, my Adrikins.

Felix: Chloe. Just as annoying as usual.

And that line right there is the only time Astruc actually liked writing Felix, as it gave him the chance to satisfy his need to insult Chloe.

And then when he sees Marinette's message, he deletes it because... hell if I know

Again, this scene could have worked if it was interpreted as Felix saying stuff that he wasn't dependent on others for support and that he could easily power through life on his own, but nope! Instead, he hates Adrien's friends and only deletes Marinette's message instead of all of them simply because he's evil, heart blacker than Don Cheadle.

Felix continues to show how awful he is by dressing up in Adrien's clothes and—Oh, son of a bitch, SERIOUSLY? This is the SEVENTH evil doppelganger plotline we've had in THREE SEASONS! You're telling me this isn't doing the same thing over and over again, Astruc?

Yeah, so Felix records some messages to send to his friends that, once again, could have worked if this episode was actually teaching a lesson about dealing with grief.

“Adrien's” Message:  First of all, thanks so much for all your messages, guys, really. Sending me messages on today of all days... (angrily) to remind me how sad I'm supposed to be feeling? Why, that's great! Really, Thanks a lot!

But because nobody ever considers how Felix is feeling, it's never acknowledged, because that would actually involve writing him with complexity.

Gabriel gets a message from Lila, who recently became one of his confidants to spy on Adrien, tells him about the fake message, and decides to use the negative emotions felt as an excuse to get rid of his in-laws. No, seriously.

Gabriel: All this disappointment might just help us get rid of our unwanted guests.

To be fair, I'd probably do the same thing just so I wouldn't have to talk to some of the people I hate at my job.

And so, Hawkmoth akumatizes Alya, Juleka, and Rose into the Punisher's Trio, who are basically just their previously akumatized forms Lady Wifi, Reflekta, and Princess Fragrance. Because why would you expect anyone to use an original character model for this episode?

All joking aside, this development raises several questions. First, why wasn't Nino one of the Punisher's akumatized? He's Adrien's best friend, so shouldn't be just as upset as everyone else? Hell, the whole reason he was akumatized into the Bubbler in Season 1 was just so he could throw Adrien a birthday party after Gabriel said no. Then there's the fact that Chloe could have also been akumatized because she's just as close as Adrien, which is another wasted opportunity here.

Second, why bring back Reflekta and Princess Fragrance of all villains? It doesn't even make sense when you consider their motifs are based off of the circumstances that led to them getting akumatized in their respective episodes. Juleka became Reflekta because of her anxiety over easily blending in, so she got the power to turn everyone into an exact copy of herself so they could understand the feeling. Rose became Princess Fragrance when Chloe destroyed her letter and perfume bottle dedicated to the prince of a foreign nation, so the perfume bottle was the basis of her powers. At least Lady Wifi makes sense as the akumatized object this episode is a tablet used to record the messages to Adrien, but Reflekta and Princess Fragrance have nothing to do with the plot of this episode, and just feel tacked on. If it was just Lady Wifi or the Bubbler, I'd get it, but this just doesn't work.

Third, what exactly is this show's obsession with Reflekta? We saw in Reflekta's first episode that her powers had a huge drawback as if either of the heroes is zapped by her, she can't get their Miraculous, like what we saw happened to Cat Noir. Yet, this is the second time this season that Hawkmoth had the bright idea to bring back Reflekta (even giving her a giant robot to amplify her powers). At least Lady Wifi and Princess Fragrance's powers worked together well (Lady Wifi could freeze someone in place, while Princess Fragrance can brainwash them with her perfume), but Reflekta just feels like the odd one out here.

Fourth, and most importantly, why did we only get to hear the line “At your service, Princess Fragrance!” A single time this episode?

So the Punishers head to Adrien's house to take their revenge, but see Felix, still dressed in Adrien's clothes, and are naturally confused. Adrien pretends to be Felix by running away while laughing evilly (so not too far off from how Astruc sees Felix), while the real Felix and Nathalie put up a good fight against the Punishers.

And then... here is the moment that shows just how skewed Astruc's view of Adrien really is.

Felix pretends to confess his love to Ladybug as Adrien, trying to force a kiss on him, making Ladybug punch him in the face by claiming that the real Adrien “would never be so pushy”.

BULL. SHIT.

Yes, Ladybug doesn't know that Adrien is actually Cat Noir, but it's clear that this scene is meant to solidify just how Felix is far worse than Adrien because according to Astruc, he would never do that.

But maybe I'm being too hard on him.

It's not like Adrien has ever forced himself onto Ladybug, right?

I mean, imagine if the show just ignored something like that.

All while trying to teach kids the importance of saying no when someone harasses them.

Can you imagine if someone was that oblivious to their own hypocrisy?

I'm not saying that the lesson is a bad one, but you can't call someone out for doing something bad, and then ignore one of your main characters doing the exact same thing!

Even in the context of the episode, the comparison doesn't work. We know that Felix is only doing this to make Adrien look bad, and has no romantic feelings towards Ladybug like Adrien does. Felix knows what he is doing is wrong, while Adrien doesn't. Whenever Cat Noir tries to kiss Ladybug, he is never aware that what he is doing is wrong, and while he is almost always stopped from kissing Ladybug for one reason or another.

Like when the episode tried to compare two different characters reacting to losing loved ones when there are different circumstances regarding them, the comparison DOESN'T WORK.

And to add insult to injury, Cat Noir shows up just to insult Felix by implying he doesn't have a lot of friends because of the way he acts, because why would he? After all, he's a complete loser that nobody would want to be friends with, and if you like him, you're an idiot for thinking so! At least, that's probably what Astruc was going for.

Ladybug summons her Lucky Charm, leading to a brief Mexican standoff, until Felix steals the tablet containing the Akuma, making a deal with Hawkmoth that he'll help out the Punishers as long as he gets the wedding rings. Do you hate Felix yet? Come on, do you hate him? WHY WON'T YOU HATE HIM, GODDAMN IT!?

This whole bit is completely pointless as Ladybug immediately finds a way to stop all four of them and de-evilize the Akuma.

And when it looks like Felix is actually apologizing for his actions this episode, it's naturally a ruse he put on to steal one of the wedding rings from Gabriel to give to his mom. Because why would Astruc even think of portraying him sympathetically, or at least have him learn a lesson?

So Felix stares out the window with an evil look in his eye (possibly foreshadowing another appearance), as Gabriel takes Emilie's wedding ring to wear for himself, and the episode mercifully ends.

It also means that I never have to watch this episode ever again.

Do you understand why it took so long for me to fully analyze this episode? Hell, it would have taken longer if Astruc didn't delete his tweets defending the kiss scene and how Cat Noir is totally a gentlemen unlike Satan, I mean Felix.

What else do I have to say about this episode that hasn’t already been said? Well, I do have one thing.

I’m not that big a fan of Felix.

I think he’s an okay character in fanfics, but I’m more indifferent to him and fanfics that ship him and Marinette together. I don’t know, maybe that’s because there are so many Felinette fanfics that are heavily seasoned with salt, or it could just be because I’m complete Love Square and Lukanette trash.

But just think about the fact that the scathing criticism of this episode was delivered by someone who isn’t that into Felix. That is how bad this episode is.

In addition to being an obvious mouthpiece for Astruc to yell at fans why they’re idiots for actually liking Felix, it does so by touching on delicate subject and trying to act like it’s easy to tell how Felix is worse than Adrien when the circumstances are nothing alike.

But the fact that Astruc takes a popular character just to portray him as a complete menace just to antagonize his fans is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous.

[professional-idiocy]

On Thin Ice - pt. 3

Yeah yeah, I’m slow with stuff. In my defense test week was a bitch and math SUCKS. Especially when you have to deal with this sadistic program called ViLLE that’s supposed be “helpful” with teaching math. If you ever see that name run for the hills. 

Pt. 1, Pt. 2 - Next

Taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain, @whoopsalittlewhumpy, @uncooly-supreme-whump 

TW: Mentions drowning and burns. Colby is a huge mess with a lot of issues with self-worth. Also torture cause Rosa is a bitch

Kevin didn’t know what to think. He was sitting on his couch with a sleeping villain snuggled close. He sighed continuing to pet Colby’s hair. At least he didn’t hate him. If he’d just gotten lost earlier Colby wouldn’t have been tortured for months.

He was in way over his head. He didn’t know anything about treating injuries. He’d just copied something he’d seen on TV! He was severely underqualified for this. He was a journalist, he wrote articles, he wasn’t exactly the best for whatever this situation was.

He needed to think. He had a person who’d been tortured. He had evidence of the injuries and the condition he’d found Colby in. He also had evidence it was a hero who’d done this.

He needed to get a doctor to look at Colby. That would definitely be important. Where would he even find a doctor? Especially someone who wouldn’t mind Colby was a villain…

Selena! That was it. She had a doctor friend who would probably be willing to help them. He took out his phone being careful to not wake up Colby continuing to softly pet his hair.

Kevin frowned when some dried blood got stuck in his hand. It made him feel horrible, his sister had done all this. His sister had tortured someone. It made him feel nauseous. Rosa had always stood up and protected him as a kid, but to do this to another person was horrifying…

Enough.

First, he’ll help Colby, and later he needed to ask his sister to explain why he would hurt Colby. Right now the best way to help Colby was to get a doctor here.

He sent Selena a message. He really hoped it wouldn’t go south.

Hey, I’m a pickle right now. Would your doctor friend be willing to help a villain?

I kinda took one in. He was tortured by a hero. Please don’t tell anyone. He’s really fragile rn. Also tell her I’m also willing to pay

Soon enough Selena responded, easing his worries.

You mean Ellie?

Knowing her she will gladly help, especially if the patient is a villain. I blame “the cat” for that.

I’ll text her number tomorrow once I’ve given her a heads up.

It’s 10pm so try to sleep

Kevin sighed in relief. Everything went well and he was also getting tired. He should definitely sleep while he had the chance. The couch was decently comfortable, and he really didn’t want to wake Colby up. He yawned softly while Colby clung to him, sleeping contently.

Kevin shot up hearing a soft yelp combined with a thud. He scanned the room only to find Colby on the floor trembling while crying.

“I’m sorry. I- I didn’t mean to fall asleep, a- and I’m sorry for waking you up. I didn’t mean to. Please- please believe me I’m sorry” Colby begged kneeling on the floor. Kevin frowned muttering curses under his breath. Rosa had done a number on him and he hated it.

“It’s fine, you aren’t in trouble. I know you must be really stressed but believe me you aren’t in trouble” Kevin said as softly as possible, hoping to get a more positive reaction out of Colby, which it did. Well, to some extent. He fearfully waited before sniffing and wiping away tears.

“I’m sorry”

“I know. Do you wanna get onto the couch for me?” Kevin said softly, trying to get the terrified villain to trust him.

“I can stay on the floor, sir” Kevin frowned at that but as soon as he showed even a hint of displeasure Colby seemed to freeze in fear. He quickly scooped Colby up before sitting him on the couch.

“There you go. It’s much better, right?” Kevin asked as Colby nodded still keeping an eye on him, worried he’d done something wrong.

“I’m going to go make breakfast. Do you have any allergies?” Colby shook his head as Kevin smiled softly petting his hair, which he seemed to enjoy a lot. If leaning into the touch was anything to go by. He got up, leaving for the kitchen, doing his best to ignore how sad Colby looked, making him feel like he’d just abandoned a kitten.

He sighed once he was sure Colby wouldn’t hear or see him. This was going to be a lot of work, but Colby was adorable. First, he needed food for both, then get Colby to take a bath, call Ellie and ask if she could come and take a look at Colby.

Sandwiches would do, right? It’s not like he had anything else here, he was supposed to go to the store yesterday, but Colby had kinda ruined that plan, besides he can just order takeout. He smiled at the sandwiches, they looked like crap. He wasn’t the best in the kitchen, but it would have to do for now.

Colby really didn’t know what to think. Kevin had been so nice even when he’d done something wrong. Miss Rosa would’ve never forgiven him for assuming anything. Instead, Kevin had gently pet his hair and now was making breakfast. He really wanted to know how he needed to repay it all.

He jumped back to awareness when Kevin came back with four sandwiches on two different plates. He tilted his head curiously as Kevin smiled handing him a plate. He held onto the plate confused as Kevin sat next to him eating. Colby mimicked his actions before carefully taking a bite out of the sandwich.

He couldn’t help but to smile. It was amazing and tasted so good! He really wanted to repay him already. If he didn’t, he would be horrible and selfish. He gulped the sandwich down before carefully turning to Kevin. He didn’t know what Kevin wanted for this. He froze as Kevin just pet his hair smiling softly. It was nice.

Colby took the other sandwich, carefully trying to stuff it on Kevin’s plate. Maybe Kevin would like it if he gave him the food back? He was full anyway and didn’t deserve this much. Kevin smiled as Colby finally got the sandwich to fit.

“Are you full already?” Kevin asked softly and Colby nodded. He smiled taking the sandwich and putting it back on Colby’s plate, much to his surprise, but he didn’t hopefully let it show.

“You know you can save the sandwich for later. You don’t need to give it to me” Colby let his expression slip into one of surprise before nodding. So that wouldn’t work. He couldn’t just give his food to Kevin. So, he needed to find another way to repay him for the mercy he’d been shown.

“I- I can take care of the dishes” Colby said, trembling softly. He needed- no he wanted to be useful.

“It’s fine. I’ll take care of it, after I’ve prepared a bath for you and then we’ll check on the wounds” Kevin said as Colby nodded quickly before he could hesitate. Kevin got up leaving for what Colby assumed was the bathroom.

He sat on the couch, mind racing through all the scenarios. A bath meant water and Kevin could use water to hurt him in so many ways. Kevin could hold his head underwater and he knew he was too weak to resist. Cold water could cause shock and hypothermia, but if the water was too hot, he’d be burned.

He deserved it though, unlike the people he’d hurt for Alaric. He was just doing as ordered but he’d hurt people. He didn’t even remember their names or faces. They were all just people Alaric had wanted information from.

Miss Rosa was right.

He really was a monster.

A simple “Are you alright?” broke through his thoughts making him snap into attention. No-one had asked that before. It made him feel warm and fuzzy.

“I mean, you were crying just now” Kevin said softly as Colby blinked before quickly wiping the tears away.

“I’m fine” he whispered weakly as his voice escaped him. Kevin smiled ruffling his hair. Maybe he just needed to be small and cute for Kevin? He did seem to like it when he snuggled close. It that was the case, he really didn’t mind the warmth and closeness of another person.

“Alright then. I got the bath ready, but do you need help? I mean you can barely walk” Kevin asked awkwardly as Colby watched him carefully.

“I can’t put much weight on my legs, but I’ll be fine. You don’t have to waste your time with me”

“Alright” Kevin said picking Colby up who clung to him in surprise “I already prepared everything and left clothes you can borrow” Colby nodded clinging to Kevin in confusion. He didn’t really know what Kevin wanted and it was best to not speculate too much. He knew for a fact Kevin wanted him to be entertaining thanks to Miss Rosa’s clue since he’d be returned when he became boring.

He needed to avoid that.

Kevin sighed taking a sip out of his tea. He really didn’t know a thing about this. He’d called Ellie who’d promised to come tomorrow to take a look and give him some advice. It was reassuring but he really hoped Colby was fine he’d left him to take care of himself. He should be fine, but it still worried him. Colby was practically helpless in his current state.

As soon as he thought that he heard a soft thud just outside the bathroom. He put his tea down on the table rushing to the bathroom only to see Colby on the floor, helplessly looking up at him. He’d never noticed it before due to all the dried blood, but he was way too thin! He was literally nothing but skin and bones!

Was his sister always this cruel?

It was disgusting to think Rosa would do something lik­­­e this. His thoughts were brought to a halt as Colby looked up at him in terror before beginning to cry and apologize for bothering him.

He looked so small and fragile as the too large shirt kept slipping off his shoulder. Why would Rosa hurt someone like him? He looked so small and young as he trembled looking at him in terror.

Wait, did Colby think he was mad at him?

Shit.

He knelt in front of Colby as he watched in fear of something. This whole situation made him feel terrible, confused, and icky. He needed to do something.

“Shhh, it’s fine you did nothing wrong” he said softly as Colby just kept crying softly still apologizing. He reached out to run a hand through Colby’s hair only for Colby to suddenly cling to him.

“Please, I know I might be a bit troublesome but please don’t give me back to Miss Rosa. I’ll promise I’ll do my best to repay you” He begged clinging to him, Kevin held him close, gently wiping away Colby’s tears as he watched silently in a mix of surprise and fear.

“It’s fine. I’m not giving you back to her, ever” He said as Colby breathed a sigh of relief before snuggling closer to Kevin. He would never let this precious bean be hurt again.

[ruubles]

A Bundle of Crimson Roses (Pt.3)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Pairing: Chuuya Nakahara x Reader

Warnings: Cursing , Alcohol , Suggestive Themes , Gore , Blood, Violence

Word Count: 6790

Y/N) stood at the back of the gazebo, her body leaned atop the white wooden rail as she stared out across the well maintained garden. Flowers twisted in the moonlight and swayed in the gentle breeze, rose bushes stood without a branch out of place and recently pruned, and the fountain brought a continuous stream of sound. These little details had been the focus of her attention, the only thing dragging her mind away from the bodiless head sitting on the ground behind her.

She hadn’t brought herself to do anything with it yet, leaving it there in hopes that maybe it was just a hallucination, but the longer she stood the more the realization came crashing down. In her time under the Port Mafia she’d seen, and done, horrible things that were considerably worse than this. Even so, she was shocked that someone would risk their life to get the corpse only to leave its head behind as a warning. 

That’s what this was. A warning.

A warning to stay away. A warning to not track these people down. Whoever had been responsible for this murder was dangerous and they wanted the mafia to know that. They not only created a drug that could remove someone’s ability, but they went through all the trouble of tracking the victim down to keep this information from them. It was a basic strategy but well thought for this situation. As long as they left behind as little traceable evidence as possible then it would be near impossible to find the culprit.

“Fuck. That sure explains the missing body.” (Y/N) had lost herself in thoughts of the situation and hadn’t noticed Chuuya’s approach. She didn’t bother to turn around and listened as he approached her, his steps were shallow light as he took the longest route around the head. After a moment she felt him beside her, his arms crossed and laid on the railing. “You should have told me you found something, I was still searching the house!”

He huffed a little as he spoke, eyes focused ahead just as hers were. “Sorry, I guess I got caught up thinking about something. I haven’t had a partner in quite some time.”

“Tch. You don’t have to apologize, I’m not used to a partner either. Last time I had one, it was that shitty Dazai.” 

(Y/N) chuckled, her grim face shifting to one with a slight smile. She shook her head at the mention of the suicidal man, he was quite the topic in the Port Mafia, even after he abandoned them. “I was never that close with Dazai, but I knew of him through a friend. It would seem many people perceive him in different ways.”

“Many people don’t like him, and I couldn’t agree with those people more.” Chuuya turned to look at (Y/N), finally acknowledging that she had at some point turned to face him. Her (E/C) eyes met his and he could see that glint in them, not the one of seriousness from this morning, but the playfulness he’d seen in her last night.

“Who are you Chuuya Nakahara?”

The question was a strange question, similar to the ones he’d been asked when they first met only twenty-four hours before. “That’s a dumb question for someone Mori spoke so highly of.”

“I’m no fool Chuuya Nakahara, I’ve looked into the case files of almost every high ranking member of the Port Mafia. You are the person with the least amount of information. I was able to get more from Mori’s own public file than your private one.” (Y/N) backed away from the ledge and took a few steps away from Chuuya, carefully watching her movements to stay a good distance from the head. “I’m working with someone who I know nothing about. Mori knows you’re loyal to him, but I have no reason to believe that you wouldn’t shoot me if the opportunity provided itself.”

“Now why would I do that? Mori made you my partner, and I’m not going to disobey a direct order from him.” Chuuya scoffed and turned to face her. “Plus you’re one to talk about minimal information when your file doesn’t exist. I may not be the most strategic person in this mafia, but I do like knowing who I’m dealing with.”

“It would seem we’ve hit a roadblock then. My files, both public and private, were burned upon request and I assume the missing information from yours is also ash.” (Y/N) stepped towards Chuuya, their eyes locked in a challenge with one another. Her eyes changed rapidly to a dark piercing gaze, as if the trust she’d gained for him had drained at a rapid pace. “I have no doubt that our partnership will be beneficial in this case, but if neither of us trust one another then I see no reason for us to be friends.”

~x~

Chuuya’s eyes remained glued to the road ahead, his ears honed in on the quiet breathing of the seat diagonal to his own. If he focused he could see the faint outline of a person in his peripheral vision, but their body still remained shrouded in darkness. (Y/N) had chosen to sit in the back of his car, to the seat opposite of her was a bloody bag securely buckled down. 

They hadn’t spoken even a word after their show down in the gazebo, perhaps newfound apprehension had been built between both parties. Few people knew of Chuuya’s past, but he understood that the mystery made any relations he had with another person difficult. For all (Y/N) knew he was a treacherous fiend that would stab her at moments notice. Though that statement applied for him as well, he had done his digging in the hours before he’d seen her standing alone outside and the stories of her did not disappoint.

The woman without a face, that was the constant whenever they mentioned her. He hadn’t a clue what it meant but whatever it was made her dangerous. Far more than most people of the mafia. Tidbits of information wormed their way into his mind, some of which were likely untrue, but the more he learned the less he really knew. From what he’d been told she’d joined the mafia at a fairly young age, just a little bit before the Dragon’s Head Conflict, and during the conflict was when her true strength had come to light. Mori promoted her just after the whole fight started, but he told no one but Daza and a few people who knew of her.

“Tomorrow I propose we go to the scene of the fight. We could likely find some bullet casings or leftover blood. It could be a lead for where to find these people.” Chuuya could see in his eyes that even though she was speaking to him, she hadn’t turned away from the window. 

“We could go in the morning and-”

“Afternoon.” She cut him off. “I have business to attend tomorrow morning and I would much rather not be forced to reschedule. My apologies for cutting you off, but please continue.”

Chuuya rolled his eyes but made no comment on her rude interruption. “Then we can meet up tomorrow afternoon; Do you need a ride?”

(Y/N) hummed to herself for a moment before answering him. “If it isn’t too much trouble. My business is at a bakery on Southwest Street: Kim’s Kreamy Delights. They have some of the best sweets I’ve ever tried, I’m a big fan of their Dasik, but Mrs.Kim only makes them on Lunar New Year. When it’s not around that time, I usually get a kkwabaegi.”

“You seem well acquainted with sweet treats, I assume you know that they aren’t healthy.” Chuuya’s comment was somewhat judgmental, but it seemed to fly over (Y/N)’s head. Her mind still focused on the warm treats she would get whenever she was in town.

“I know that, but I do things for the enjoyment of myself. We are members of a mafia Chuuya, I’ve never expected to live a long life, nor a happy one. If you wish to judge then do so but I will not be changing my habits based on your criticism.” He had thought she hadn’t noticed the backhanded rudeness he’d displayed but it seems as though she had. 

There was a strange silence that fluttered through the air of the car as the light of the city finally made its way through the car's windows. Slowly the trees on the outer rim of the city turned to buildings and the streetlamps illuminated the faces, every post passing by in a fleeting second before another one replaced the eerie orange light. Chuuya’s car sped down the street, not one to abide by normal street laws, and every sharp turn brought them closer to the mafia’s headquarters. 

After a couple of minutes he pulled up in front of the towering building, its floors spiralling upwards into the stars. Several windows could be seen alive with a blazing light, not a strange sight considering many of the mafia’s business matters occurred during this time of night. Usually Chuuya would be in there monitoring what went on in every crevice of that building, but instead he was heading home to an empty apartment where he’d be receiving regularly spaced messages updating him on what was going on. It had been Mori’s order for him to get some rest, but the work of a mafia member was never done when night fell.

“Are you sure I can’t drop you off at the place you’re staying at? I don’t mind driving a little further.” Chuuya had extended his offer not because he was kind, but because Mori had been clear that someone should be looking out for this woman. He’d gone as far as assigning Hirotsu to monitor her, there had to be a reason he’d want someone of such importance to watch out for someone as capable as an executive.

“I’ll be fine, but thank you for the offer. There’s some papers I want to take a look at before going to my residence.” (Y/N) opened the door of the car, bringing both her legs out onto the sidewalk with a gentle click of her heels. She hesitated before turning back around. Her hand latched onto the top of the sheet that they had used as a handle and dragged the head towards her. “I truly am sorry for my words earlier. One of my bad habits is trying to forget my past, and I let that get to me. If it’s okay, I would like to take back my rude words.”

That was surprising. In the garden, (Y/N) had been so serious and gave off the same feeling that Mori gave off whenever someone questioned his authority. She was authoritative when she spoke of her burned files and her going back on her word of their relationship being nothing more than partners was something he hadn't expected. Thirty minutes ago he’d fully been prepared for her to be just another person he sees at work, but yet here she was apologizing. Every time they spoke it was like talking to another person, but this is the one who he’d met that had no apprehensions brought about by their job; This was the woman who was behind the mask of the mafia.

“I’m not one for friends.” (Y/N) had tried to hide the slight slump of her shoulders at his words, but he noticed the slight change before she stepped out of his car. She closed the door without turning around and began to walk towards the building's entrance. Chuuya rolled the window down and called out. “But I would like to try one of those kkwabaegi you were telling me about.”

She stopped her motions and turned to face him with the smallest of smiles on her face. “You butchered that name.”

“Oh shut up!” He snapped before rolling up the window and speeding off. (Y/N) watched as his car went down the street and eventually turned the corner. Her (E/C) bleary with a tiredness she’d held for so long. They were far from friends, but in the mafia did anyone really have a friend? A life like theirs was not made for relationships greater than the ones they formed at work and that was a fact (Y/N) had learned a long time ago. She didn’t expect anything from Chuuya, but she hoped that maybe when this was all over that there might be someone who wants her to stick around.

“So are you enjoying your new partner?” The voice was deep and sudden, there had been no one around moments before. (Y/N) showed no surprise of this person's newfound presence; She had known the moment he had appeared behind her. “The kids aren’t mad, but they are expecting you to take them out for ice cream. You’d better not disappoint them or I’ll pour all your wine into a bush.”

“Oh come on Isaac, I may not be the most caring person in the world but I wouldn’t disappoint those kids. Not again.” (Y/N) turned to face her friend. Isaac stood with his head turned up as he let out a puff of air and watched as it turned white and then disappeared. He wore the same outfit he wore whenever he was bartending: A dark gray button up tucked into a pair of pitch black jeans, simple but with the added spice of five undone buttons to reveal a well sculpted body beneath. He was a person of habit. “Did you just finish a shift?”

“No? What gave you that idea?” They walked side by side to one another, Isaac’s hand buried in his pocket as they approached the building. 

(Y/N) stopped in her tracks, a deadpan expression replacing the sly smile she’d worn moments before. “You cannot tell me that outfit is the extent of your closet.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean!” Isaac snapped, hand pulled from his pocket as he balled his fingers into a fist. “I have better fashion than you Ms.I-Dress-Like-An-Cubicle-Worker.”

“Oh quit it, you’re acting so childish, Isaac.” (Y/N) shook her head and walked into the building, neither of the guards questioning her presence much. Her comrade followed her lead and stayed close as though fearful of being found for being out of place. “I thought better of you.”

“Oh shut it you hag, let’s just get this over with.”

~x~

“I doubt there’s anything left at the scene of the fight. Especially if you say it's a city owned warehouse.” Isaac sighed and fell back on his chair before continuing. “They’re easy to access and I doubt that someone willing to go through all the trouble of disposing the body wouldn’t clear that place out.”

Mori sat at his usual spot at the head of the table, silent as he listened to both (Y/N) and Isaac shoot ideas off one another. He seemed enthralled in his own thoughts as he considered a plan of action. They all sat close to one another, Mori at the head of his table with one of them sitting in a chair on either side of the table. So close there was no need for their voices to be raised and that meant that anyone outside would have a hard time listening in.

It was strange for someone so strong and hated like Mori to allow an outsider like Isaac to ever be near him, but after all Mori had done for them both he trusted them more than a lot of the members of the mafia. (Y/N) was his executive and by extension Isaac was loyal, though he would not hold his tongue around him like she would.

“(Y/N), you must have an assumption as to who is behind this. Please clarify who it is.” Mori wanted to hear all the information, even if it might be wrong.

“Is that really even a question, Ougai? You’ve had the same assumption considering you didn’t only bring me back here, but you called a meeting with my old partner.” (Y/N) was apprehensive to continue, her idea had a lot of backing and would likely be true. For now it was only that, an idea, but the more they investigate the closer she’ll get to the life she used to have. “I think it was them. That old man is smart and a drug like this isn’t far from something he’d do.”

Isaac gritted his teeth, trying to find an argument for why it wouldn’t be them. Anything to keep the idea of them coming back out of his mind. They’d spent so much effort to escape their past and join Mori that even a possibility of the past coming back to haunt them was pestilent. “There wasn’t anything left with the part of the body they left behind. It’s protocol to leave them with every single body, you know that.”

“Of course I do, but there are exceptions to that rule! Given a direct order from him you don’t have to-”

“And if it is absolutely impossible, I know.” Isaac cut her off to continue his idea. “Something like this, so large, the old man wouldn’t want to let anyone take credit for it. He wants people to know it's them so they’ll be afraid.”

“There were roses in her garden.”

“You said she had a garden full of flowers of all kinds.” He argued back, hand hitting the table a bit too harshly. “A couple of roses bushes doesn’t fucking matter!”

“Enough.” Mori interjected. He’d taken both Isaac and (Y/N) in at a young age, but they both had a tough time before he found them. They may not have been together these past few years but they are still better partners than any two people who ever graced the mafia. Above all Mori sought to keep things neutral between them both so that they wouldn’t say anything they’d regret when things calmed down. “We have to think rationally and take a moment to talk it over. Neither of you are foolish, I’ve seen the things you can accomplish together but tensions are high right now. For now we assume it’s  one of the recent organizations who have stood against us.”

It was silent for a moment as the pair thought things over. They’d lived a long life with shared pains but they both had managed to come out better for it. Isaac was raising five kids and smiled everyday as though it were his last, on the other hand (Y/N) buried herself in work and drowned herself with expensive delicacies to erase it all. They were like family and neither of them would blame the other for how things went after Oda’s death.

“If it’s not?” Isaac’s voice was low and gravelly as though he were on the verge of tears. It was weak and pitiful, but it explained exactly how they were feeling. “What if it is them, Mori? Do we fight them? We won’t win that.”

“It isn’t them.” (Y/N) cut in before Mori could say a word. “It can’t be. We went through so much to slaughter them during the Dragon’s Head Conflict. The numbers don’t lie, nearly every branch was pruned because of us. To come back now, and with enough people to even consider facing the Port Mafia, is impossible.”

Isaac slid his chair back and stood up, dark eyes more gloomy than they were glossy. “You seem to forget (Y/N), pruning is done to help a plant grow.”

~x~

Chuuya looked from his phone to the fancy hotel he’d parked across the street from. His eyes held hesitation as he scanned across the messages on his device one final time. Part of him wanted to ignore the messages and just go home, but doing this had become a ritual. A guilty pleasure that helped calm his riled nerves.

‘I don’t have work tonight if you want to drop by our special spot.’

‘C’mon Chuuya, at least let me know if you’re going to show up. I need to know if I should open the champagne sooner rather than later.’

‘Fine. I’ll be waiting, but until then let me leave you with a special present.”

‘Attachment: 1 Image’

Chuuya’s eyes scanned across the image once again, to say it was scandalous was an understatement. There was no face presented in the image, instead the picture captured a woman’s body adorned in a set of elegant hand-woven red lace lingerie. He wasn’t unfamiliar with the outfit considering he’d been the one to take it off her many times before.

Their relationship was nothing more than a late at night call whenever they needed to relieve some stress. Neither of them knew much of the other, their names had come the first night they’d grabbed a drink and their sexual desires came soon after. Though there were a few things he noticed: Her schedule was not linear, he’d get spontaneous messages throughout the month asking if he were free. Most of the time he could clear just a bit of time and make his way here to meet with her for a few hours.

They’d been doing this for months at this point and he still couldn’t wrap his head around the stupidity of his actions. Everytime he said he would end things off and never see her again, then as though he were wrapped around her finger he would be back here: Car parked in the same spot as always and his route to the room the same. A member of the mafia took a risk two or three times a month to visit a woman whose life he hadn’t a clue of.

Using his memory, Chuuya made his way through the lobby, passing by a clerk who offered a knowing nod in his direction. It was the same thing time after time but that familiarity was something he clung to. No one questioned him. No one asked why he did something. No one looked to him for answers. It was the opposite of what he did for work, but it was so much more freeing. 

Taking the elevator up, Chuuya watched as the red numbers changed, going up one by one until finally the number fifteen. One final chime echoed through the metal cage and the doors slid open into a long spiraling hallway. Three steps out of the elevator, three doors to the right, and on his left. That path he’d memorized after his third meeting with this strange woman.

With a deep breath Chuuya tried to prepare himself to end this debacle that could become scurrilous if things were to go wrong. He opened the door and slid into the room quietly as though trying to go unnoticed. The sound of a running shwoer gently swayed throughout the room and he knew that she was getting ready for what she presumed to be his imminent arrival. He slid off his cape and hung it on the coat rack besides the door, his hat following suit.

The water shut off and a voice called out to him from somewhere beyond sight. “Oh Chuuya~”

Her voice was sweet as it called, drawing out the a at the end of his name to grab his attention. Getting the message he walked from the main room into the small, but still fairly large, bedroom. There she stood, body wrapped in a white towel that barely covered the most private portions of her body. 

Alberta Einstein. She was a beauty to behold; her almond shaped eyes holding the deepest most dark irises you might ever see as if they were shadows coming to life with no light reflecting off of them. Long  white hair would usually be flowing down her back and sway gently every time she took a step. Her figure was lean but she seemed to have curves in places that would make any man fall in a matter of moments. Now, standing bare in a bath towel, she was ravishing. Droplets of water dripping from her body and onto the floor, running from her neck down to her towel, and more littering the floor of the bathroom.

“I wasn’t sure you would show.” Her feet sunk into the carpet as she walked towards Chuuya, imprints of water marking her chosen pathway. Once close enough, her hand danced around his top button before easily sliding it undone. Slowly she moved to the second button and slowly began to undo it as well, but she hesitated. “Something wrong?”

Her eyes danced up to meet his, a shade so dark that his light blue eyes could never fathom their depths. “We should stop this.”

“You’re quite right, Chuuya. This relationship is going no where and it never will: We’ve been having casual sex for months but neither of us have caught an ounce of feelings.” She leaned into his lips, heat fanning across his face as she spoke, still continuing to fiddle with his buttons. “But isn’t that the fun part, my dearest Nakahara? Life isn’t about love even if people wish it was; It’s about enjoying yourself so much that you can’t possibly find it in your soul to frown.”

She leaned in and finally met his lips in the softest most gentle kiss she’d ever given to him. Her lips were warm as she pressed her body flush against his. With quick hands she undid the buttons at a much faster pace than the one she’d set before. Chuuya knew better than to let her do this once again but he quickly melted into her touch. Their lips entwined with one another as her mouth parted to let a gentle moan escape.

“I must say your sexual prowess surprises me. For such a short man you truly are skilled in bed.” She taunted his height, attempting to mask it with a compliment. They’d played this game time and time before.

“Tch. Same as always Ally, crude and judgemental so much so that you can’t even acknowledge your own shortcomings.” He moved from her lips to just under her ear, teeth grazing against her earlobe and sending a shudder down and throughout her body. “Last time we were together I specifically remember you getting so worked up that you could barely beg for more.”

She smirked and gulped down a large portion of air. Ally was not nervous, it was apparent on her face, instead she was excited. “That’s because I’m not a beggar.”

Chuuya had a response gliding across his tongue but before it could come out the incessant ringing of a phone bleared through the room. Ally let out an audible groan and pushed Chuuya away, hand lingering on his unbuttoned shirt for just a bit too long. Part of him wanted to pull her back but then he reasoned with himself and realized that his wish of ending things could still come true. With the interference of an outsider he had caught the slipup he’d made many times before.

“What the hell do you want, Thomas?” Ally snapped through her phone, she paced back and forth as she listened to the person on the other line. After a moment she stopped dead in her tracks. “You really are useless without me. Fine, fine I didn’t mean it.”

She turned to Chuuya and gave that smile, the same one he’d often give her when his work called him away from the hotel room. Though this time he was pleasantly surprised by the situation. Furthering contact with someone so wrapped in mystery was not beneficial in any way. If anything it was dangerous and reckless. She meant nothing to him and that feeling was mutual, so neither of them had any real attachments to one another. It was best to end things here so that neither of them had too many hard feelings when things would inevitably go bad in a few more months. Casual sex and a freind with benefits was the closest he’d ever get to a real relationship given his line of work, but even that was something he hadn’t saught after much in his time.

“I was busy.” She growled into her phone before taking a deep breath and calming her nerves. After a moment her resolve and anger faded in one swift motion and she sighed. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, just wait for me in the meeting room okay?”

With a final goodbye she hung up the phone and tossed it onto the bed. She followed suit with her phone and fell onto the white bedding, face smashing against the soft comforter they would usually be tangled in by now. “This is for the best Alberta. I meant what I said. My job isn’t the most lenient and I don’t need distractions right now, so this is my final goodbye to you.”

She turned to look at him, watching as he redid the buttons she’d worked to undo. Turning over she spread her arms across the bed and closed her eyes. A soft smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “That’s true, my job is also picking up pace right now. We have a big projecting starting and I’d hate to miss out on it because of an outside relationship. Perhaps when things settle down we could meet up again, relive the first we met.”

“That won’t be necessary, when I say final goodbye I mean it.” Her ears perked up and she sat up, realizing now that he had already left the room and slid on his jacket. She heard the door open and then once again his voice rang through her ears. “Find yourself someone who’s actually in love with you, okay? Someone who’s worth your time.”

With those final words, the door closed to the hotel room and she was left alone to her thoughts. Intrigued by the man who she’d enraptured by her beauty. She had no romantic feelings towards him, but she was quite sad that their days of booty calls would no longer be happening.

~x~

Chuuya walked through the halls of the Port Mafia’s building, against the order he’d been giving he returned to headquarters in hopes of catching Mori before he left. Though after travelling up to the top floor he’d come to the conclusion that his boss had already left. He’d likely have gone to get rest for the night or take Elise to do something better than sit around his office.

“Chuuya.” Kouyou’s appearance behind him was sudden, her steps quiet as ever as she approached with her usual long strides. Her dress swayed as she continued by his side. As usual she spoke and moved in a way so elegant that she resembled a goddess. “How is your evening? I could have sworn Mori told you to return to your residence.”

“It’s late Kouyou, you should’ve gone home hours ago.” Chuuya tried to divert the subject from his disobedience, but he knew that even so Kouyou would insist. She was a Port Mafia executive above all else but that did not mean she was heartless. It was fleeting comments that passed by ever so often that reminded him of this; She cared about him in a similar sense to how she cares for Kyouka. “Do you have any idea where Mori might be? It’s late but usually he wouldn’t have left by this time.”

“Last time I saw him, he was meeting with (Y/N) and that handsome young bartender. I always forget his name but he makes the most wonderful cocktails.” Her voice sounded nearly dreamy as she recalled the delicious drinks she’d enjoy ever so often. Kouyou was the type of person who could handle her liquor well, unlike himself, and he’d seen her drink a dozen fruity drinks without ever slurring a single word. It was honestly somewhat startling. “Though I do remember he stormed out and your partner followed close behind. They sounded as though they were having a heated discussion but I was too caught up in a phone call to hear much of what they said.”

“Isaac.” Chuuya said slowly , Kouyou perked up and turned to him with a soft questioning hum. “That’s his name. Why would Mori want to meet with a random bartender? I thought (Y/N) said she was going home.”

The woman next to him chuckled, she pressed the button to call the elevator before turning to him. “I have no clue why Mori would want to speak with that man but I assume he has a reason and we should not question him. As for (Y/N), I’m glad to see you’re getting along with her. You were quite opposed to your partnership during the meeting this morning.”

“Getting along isn’t the phrasing I’d use.” Chuuya grumbled, arms crossing as he turned to face the elevator instead of his mentor. “I don’t trust that woman. She’s hiding something and I’d rather not be staring down the barrel of a gun when I find out what it is.”

They fell into silence, neither of them knowing what to say. Chuuya wasn’t in the wrong for believing she was hiding something, no one who can switch their personality as quick as her is being genuine. Mori trusts her and that is abundantly clear but what isn’t is why he’d never heard of her. Another executive that no one knew of was strange to say the very least. For now he wouldn’t question her much, instead seeing what he can find out without her realizing he’s digging around for information.

Kouyou knew a little of (Y/N), Mori had told her some of the stories about the feats she’d completed during her time in Russia. She knew there was more to the story but if Mori had trust in her to stay loyal to them then it was not her place to question it. One thing was clear to her from the way that her boss spoke: (Y/N) was strong and she is not foolish, and keeping her hidden from everyone was a strategy of the finest creation. He hadn’t told her what his ability is but whatever it was it made her abnormally strong compared to a regular mafioso.

“Your accusation is likely true, she is hiding something from us but I believe that Mori knows exactly what it is. We’ve pledged our lives to the mafia which means we are to have faith in our boss.” Finally after what felt like minutes the elevator door dinged and began to open. “I have a strong feeling that you and your new partner aren’t nearly as different as you’d like to believe… Perhaps I’m just being foolish.”

“You really should be getting some rest, my dear (Y/N).” The voice of Mori coed from the elevator, his slender hands wrapped around her shoulders as he gave them a gentle squeeze. She tried to shrug him off but the further she got from his grasp the tighter his hold became. It was almost as though watching a father taking care of his young daughter, but below the surface they were hiding something. Chuuya and Kouyou had been so enraptured with their own conversation that they hadn’t bore witness to the quiet whisper Mori had slipped to (Y/N) before the doors were all the way open.

“Get off of me you old man!” She shouted, bringing her foot back on his before whirling around. Not noticing his presence, her back bumped against Chuuya’s chest. He stumbled a bit at the sudden added weight but his arms caught around her and steadied them both. Surprised, she turned to face her hero with an utterly sweet smile. “Oh? Hello Chuuya, I didn’t expect to see you again this evening. Did you not have plans to attend?”

Mori perked up at the mention of one of his executives, specifically the one he’d told to take the night off. “Plans fall through often, no big deal. I just thought I’d come to make sure that Mori had been given a full report on what we found.”

“There’s no need to worry Chuuya, (Y/N) has given me a full report and I have faith that your digging tomorrow will bring more information to light.” Mori straightened himself from the endearing man they’d seen moments ago. His voice had a cold demeanor as it always had when he spoke with them, though when he spoke with her it seemed he had a similar attitude to the one he used when communicating with Elise. “I have faith in the both of you to prove your worth as executives. May you prove my assumptions right that your partnership was not in vain, then perhaps I could be persuaded to give you both a raise befitting your work.”

(Y/N)’s eyes searched up Mori, her gaze travelling from his gloved hands up to his rigid smiling face. It was clear to her that he was faking every word and gesture as if hoping to give his two closest advisors a false sense of security. His whisper still rang in her ear, ‘For now, act as if our conversation with Isaac never happened. You are, and only are, an executive of the Port Mafia.’ The message was clear with what he wanted but the intent behind it was a mystery. Had he meant it as a form of comfort to remind her that her past was not to stop her from having a future, or was it a warning to keep up the act as a perfect mafia princess and play the diplomat role, perhaps it was neither and simply a reminder that her life has only ever been that of a pawn. Any way he went about saying it, there was obvious fabrication of joy in his face.

“Thank you, sir.” Chuuya took a low bow before his boss and Kouyou offered a small courtesy. “Though I would like to speak with you about a few things when you have the time.”

Mori looked from Chuuya to (Y/N) as though he were asking her what questions she’d brought about from Chuuya, but all she did was shrug in response. He would either ask about her past and her file or he would bring up the fact that their partnership was not in the best of graces. “I truly would love to speak with you about this Chuuya, but Elise has been waiting on me for hours! Tomorrow morning I should have a bit of free time if that’s okay.”

“That will be fine, thank you sir.”

“Now, as your boss, I must request that you all get some rest. Specifically you (Y/N). I know that bad habit of yours and I’d prefer it if it didn’t interfere with your work.” Mori’s words confused the two people who didn’t know much about her habits, but she understood it well enough. He had made a jab at her constant desire to work and the way she would stay awake until the point of utter exhaustion. It was a bad habit she’d had for a long time; But it was part of the reason she got so much work done. “Please do watch your phones in case there’s an emergency, but if there is not then enjoy your time off.”

Mori stalked away from the group and in the direction of his meeting room. “Well I should be going as well, I’ve got some place to be. May you both have a goodnight.” (Y/N) wasted no time in excusing herself from the situation, wanting nothing more than to find her way to a place she’d been meaning to visit since she returned to Yokohama.

“Do you need a ride?” Chuuya was not fond of (Y/N), and that feeling went both ways, but his partner had done nothing to wrong him yet. Until she did so, he would be kind and offer her a ride. Kouyou smiled to herself but used her fan to hide it; The gesture earned a glare from Chuuya. “I don’t mind, I’ve got a stop to make before I return to my apartment anyway.”

“That won’t be necessary, but thank you for the offer Chuuya.” (Y/N) stepped into the elevator and gave a small wave before the doors began to close and seal her away from them both. “Tomorrow afternoon, don’t forget okay?”

With that she was gone.

[oohnoniall]

The Lantsov Emerald [Kaz Brekker x OC] - Chapter Three (Anastasia)

 Warnings: cursing, fantasy violence, family drama

Chapter One

Chapter Two

       Her head pounded from the night before. Vasily had been too drunk to stop her from getting into the spirits. Nikolai would have given her small sips from his glass throughout the night. She wouldn't have gotten nearly so messed up had that been the case. He was irresponsible but somehow, he knew what he was doing. At least, that's what Anastasia had been certain of for the majority of her life.

        Her head felt as though it were filled with pounding hammers and Nikolai's favorite revolvers. Every bump of her spoon in her porridge bowl made her want to wince. The only reason she wasn't was the fact that both of her parents were at breakfast. It was such a rare occurrence that she knew something was bound to be wrong.

        She and Vasily had stayed silent for a majority of the meal. Waiting for their father to say something. Anything. Anastasia thought about screaming in order to cause something to happen.

        "The Fjerdan's will be sending an emissary in less than a week," her father's voice was strong, not showing a sign of last night having any effect on him.

        Anastasia clutched her spoon slightly tighter. 

        "I suppose they're anxious to see what our Sun Summoner can do," Vasily drawled, his voice raking against her ears and making her feel sick.

        The whole thing made her feel sick. She was being sold like cattle. There was nothing anyone could do to stop it either. Not even Nikolai would have been able to save her from this fate.

        "Yes," Pytor nodded his head once. "They'll want to make sure your sister is a proper lady as well."

        He spoke as though she was not sitting just on Vasily's left. She understood that she didn't mean nearly as much as either of the princes and yet, it still managed to hurt. She wasn't seen as anything but a hassle. Something he needed to sell off in order to rid Ravka of debt or hopefully bring more peace. Even if his own marriage had done nothing.

        She tried to bite down on her anger as she focused on her breakfast. Her head was pounding too hard for her to make up some sort of melody. She was too angry to turn the beating of her heart into one of the waltzes that she adored. Her life was a game and she was not the player. That much was clear.

        The side door opened nearly silently. She would not have normally heard it. The hangover had made her far too sensitive to sounds. She doubted that she would ever again drink as much as she had the night before. She had not thought it was a lot. Apparently, Anastasia had no idea how much liquor she could actually hold.

        A messenger slipped into the room, rushing toward the long table as quickly as he could. Anastasia straightened in her chair, her eyes following the messenger as he made his way towards the table. Her parents had not noticed him yet. She doubted they would unless the message was for them.

        The man made his way over to her. She felt as though he was moving slowly, as though his legs were encased in molasses. It was just her hope for Nikolai's letter that made her want time to move faster. For him to run forward and drop whatever note might be in his hand. She was almost angry at how long it was taking.

        "Your Highness," he murmured softly to her, a slight smile gracing his lips. The smile made him look younger, the lines by his eyes seemed to disappear. "A message from your brother."

        The letter seemed smaller than others she had received but she would not complain. It held his pale blue double eagle, it held that scent of sea breeze and salt. She thanked the messenger before quickly excusing herself from the meal.

        Vasily said nothing, but she noticed how his grip had tightened just slightly on his butter knife. Anastasia would not pretend to know what was wrong with him, but she assumed it was jealousy. She was allowed to leave when she pleased. He wasn't. Crown Prince was a blessing and a curse it seemed. 

        She hurried to her rooms, nearly running down the corridors. The guards would say nothing. No one would reprimand her for not acting like a lady. Not when most of the other ladies who resided in the Great Palace were nursing hangovers or worrying about what mood the Queen would be in. She was free to run about the castle, chasing the eight-sixteenths rhythm of her heartbeat.

        A guard opened the door to her chambers for her, not bothering to smile at her. She nodded her head once at him before she slipped inside.

        Her rooms were the smallest of the three siblings. A large four-poster bed set in the middle of the room, a small nightstand beside it of imported cherry wood, and a matching desk on the left side of the room. Her vanity sat at the right, next to her balcony. The large window made the glass and crystals bottles sparkle and created small rainbows in the height of summer. The walls were painted a pale pink color, with Ravkan blue along the borders of the walls. She felt as though she lived in the middle of a summer day. 

        Anastasia did not bother to note any of her furnishings as she slid into the plush leather chair that sat at her desk. She tore open the letter, using the golden letter opener that Nikolai had given her. He had told her she needed some form of protection in her room.

        He wasn't fond of trusting her safety to people he didn't know. They'd only had each other for so long that Nikolai had become a protector as much as he had been a brother. He'd kept her out of trouble while he spent his days getting into it. He kept her away from their parents as much as he could. If only to have her avoid their disappointment.

        She hadn't realized how much she had needed him until he was gone.

        My dearest Stacie. Her heart ached at the nickname. It had been so long since she had heard it from anyone. She could hear the low timbre of his voice, drawing out the 'sta' and ending it with the soft sound of the 'sea'. She was going to murder Nikolai when he returned. How dare he leave her to miss him.

        Ketterdam is dull, the university life is not one for me. Daily, my classmates are tempted by the Barrel and I alone must stop them from giving in to the temptation. Tell mother that at the very least. She worries enough about me being gone, although I'm certain that you're having a rougher go of it. I apologize for my letters being irregular. Life has become a hassle. It seems as though fate wishes for me to suffer greatly. I wonder if I could tempt fate into giving me a break?

        Anastasia rolled her eyes. Nikolai was ridiculous in front of most people. She was certain that he was at his absolute worst around her. But that had been what she needed as a child. Someone to protect her, to make her laugh. He'd always been a good big brother. He deserved more credit for it.

        Giving you updates on my courtship with fate is sadly not the reason for this letter. I've heard that we have a new Saint in our home. One that summons the sun? Stacie, send word if this is true. I'd love to see the birth of a Saint with my own eyes. I've come to realize it's a remarkable affair. 

        Of course, that was why he had written to her. The Sun Summoner. She did not blame the girl. Nor did she even blame Nikolai. It just hurt to realize it had not been because he had missed her. Maybe the ache that she felt was not the same to him. They did not have the same bond as the Shu's kebben, but she had always thought they would at least always be together. Until she was sold off.

        I'll be home soon. Vasily will have someone else to throw his anger at. We'll speak about your training too. Some of the guards have told me your aim is remarkably horrible. Really, Ana, you would embarrass me like that? 

        I love you, little sister, 

        Nikolai Lantsov.

        She traced his name with her pointer finger. It had been three years since she had seen her brother. Three years of wondering if he was alright, of hoping that he would come home soon. She hated to admit that she missed him. She hated to admit she was beginning to forget what he looked like. She doubted he'd ever come home. She didn't trust the letters, didn't trust that he would find it within himself to come back.

        Anastasia knew how easy it would be to leave Ravka and never return. She dreamed of it sometimes. Though it was not something she'd ever truly do. When she left Ravka, it would be to wed a man that she did not know. A man she didn't want to know.

        She wiped her eyes once, the burn of fresh tears blurring her sight, before stuffing the letter into her desk. She wouldn't dare try to write a reply until her hangover had vanished. Until she was certain that she would not embarrass herself by leaving tear stains on the parchment. As far as Nikolai was aware, Anastasia had taken his absence well. She refused to tell him how alone she felt. How it seemed as though she were floating alone, in the middle of an island in the depths of the True Sea. He would have called her dramatic and then pretended that he was the only one who had any right to dramatics.

        A knock on her door quickly cleared her of her thoughts while making the pounding in her head worsen. She wouldn't call for a tonic, it would only make things worse in the long run.

        "Come in," her voice was soft as she fumbled for a piece of parchment and a pen. Pretending to work on her correspondence would at least give her a reason for sitting aimlessly.

        Vasily strolled into her bedroom as though he was already the king of Ravka. She wondered how he could be so self-assured. It wasn't exactly something that she would ask him about. She watched as he perched on her bed, his arms casually crossed across his chest as he stared at her.

        "Did our brother have anything interesting to say?" She swore venom was in his tone. 

        "He's curious about the Sun Summoner," Anastasia stated as she looked up at him. "And he says he'll be home soon."

        "He's been telling you that for three years, Annie."

        Anastasia glared at him. He knew just how much she hated that name. It made her feel as though she were a child. Someone who was reprimanded easily. "Vasily, I'd rather not talk about what Nikolai plans on doing or when he plans on returning home."

        The corner of his lips twitched, as though he were about to smile but had thought better of it. Vasily often hid his smiles, unless it served a purpose. Her brother had been raised to be a man who wore many masks. It was one of the reasons why he liked cards so much. Vasily did not think Anastasia knew about his vice, but she did. She had followed him once. 

        Nikolai had only been gone three months at that point. She had been bored and lonely. She had seen Vasily sneaking across the grounds as though he had something scandalous to hide. She had thought that it would be worth it to share a secret with him. Maybe then they could become nearly as close as she and Nikolai.

        Had it just been a girl, she would have left instantly. But no. Vasily had slipped into a Lordling's home, she had watched him from behind bushes as he played a game of cards in front of the large dining room windows. She had assumed he would go after a game, but she had given up long before he had.

        Vasily had lost more money than she had ever dreamed he would that night. He had been red-faced the next morning at breakfast. Anastasia had thought it best not to tell him that she had watched him. She didn't wish to bring more shame to her oldest brother. 

        She'd allow him to think he kept this secret to himself. Even if she knew that others must be well aware.

        "There seems to be an issue with our Sun Summoner," he admitted to her, falling back on her bed. His hands covered his face, she did not ignore how they were as soft and smooth as her own. "Not that anyone save Kirigin knows about it."

        "What is it, Vas?" Anastasia hated knowing that he knew more than she did. Even if it was a common occurrence.

        "Don't let father find out," it wasn't the pleading tone of a boy. It was the exasperation of a man who was tired of living in shadows. "But our Saint has disappeared. I heard two of Kirigin's men speaking about it on the way to your room. It seems last night's party brought a tracker to our midst."

        She instantly thought of the guard she had not known. Nikolai Vanzin. It had felt like a false name that night. He hadn't noticed her at first. Not to mention he looked both too hard to be a guard and far too pretty. None of her father's men had looked as though they could cut a diamond with their stare nor their cheekbones. She left that to the Grisha of the Second Army.

        "There was a guard last night," she spoke softly, fingers tapping on her desk as though she was gently tapping the keys of a piano. "I had never seen him before."

        "How many of the guards do you know?" Vasily did not look at her as he spoke.

        "All of them."

        Vasily was not aware of Anastasia's training. Nikolai had told her it was a secret between the two of them and the guards. He had made damn sure those men knew what it would mean to betray their trust. It would mean losing his friendship. Nikolai was definitely the nicest of the royal family when it came to things of that nature. Not even Anastasia would have been that kind.

        "You're not doing what I think, are you Annie?" Vasily pushed himself up on his elbows, his eyes boring into her.

        "Of course not," she gave him an annoyed glare. "I wouldn't put my marriage at risk like that. I just needed someone to talk to with Nikki gone. He likes being updated on them."

        Vasily continued to stare at her, though the look was less annoyed, less ready to pounce if she was doing something she shouldn't. He looked tired. He looked hurt. She did not know why he would be. She had never been close enough to Vasily to be able to tell the reasons behind his moods. She had enough trouble figuring out Nikolai's.

        "You could've talked to me," his voice was tense, his knuckles white as he clenched his fists. "I'm your brother too, Annie."

        "You've had more pressing matters at hand," she knew the words were not enough. She felt guilty almost. Had he been just as lonely as she and Nikolai? Had he craved a companion? He had been raised to be the King of Ravka since they were children. While she and Nikolai were running about the grounds with wooden swords, he was trapped in meetings that he did not care about. 

        She felt as though she should have noticed. Should have tried to bring him in on their games. Nikolai had always wanted Vasily's attention as a child. She had thought one brother was enough. Anastasia could not help but to blame herself for whatever he had gone through. She knew she wasn't at fault but that did not assuage her guilt.

        "That doesn't matter," Vasily moved to stand then, wiping his palms on his pants. "Tell me about this guard you didn't know."

        "He said his name was Nikolai Vanzin," she was glad for the change in topic. "He had these eyes that were like diamonds. They could kill you if he looked at you too long. Beautiful really."

        She felt the flush on her cheeks before she noted the look in Vasily's eye. She couldn't tell if he was amused or if he was pissed about her description of the man. It didn't matter. She had to press on.

        "Sharp features, it was very noticeable. His accent though ... It was strange. He spoke Ravkan as though he wasn't quite used to it. But I couldn't place the accent. It wasn't rough enough for Fjerda, he didn't have the complexion for Fjerda either. I don't think he was from Ravka at the very least."

        "Is there anything beyond pretty eyes and a pretty face, Annie?" His eyebrow rose, watching her closely enough to cause her to grow somewhat embarrassed. She didn't know why. It wasn't like he hadn't had his own dalliances.

        "I think he'd been injured at some point in time," she said, thinking back to the guard that had so amused her the night before. She wondered if he had thought of her at all that morning. Considering he was probably on the run with their Sun Summoner by now, she highly doubted it. "He walked with a limp. Otherwise, he was perfectly normal. I just ... I had assumed he'd been hired before the fete."

        "I would have been told if there had been any additional security hired," he almost spat out the words. She could see that there was something brewing in his mind. A plan taking form.

        She highly doubted it would be anything good.

        "Did you make any sort of connection with this man?" Vasily asked as he began to pace the room. "Did he say where he was going or what he was doing there?"

        "No," she sighed as she shook her head. "Vasily, I spoke with him for about two minutes before the presentation. I got his name, that was it. He said his mother thought he'd had luck being named after a prince."

        "Probably a lie." Vasily stared at the same spot on the floor as he paced. She worried he would create a rut in her rug. 

        "I'm sure of it," she worried her lip as she began to think. Straining her memory for anything that might help. "I told him I would see him today. You could check in on the training field. Ask if anyone's seen him?" 

        Vasily nodded his head once as he began to leave her bedroom, his head once again up and his focus back on the world around him. He paused in her doorway, his left hand resting on the oak wood of her door frame. He lightly tapped the wood with his index finger, hesitating for a moment before turning his head to look at her.

        "Stay here," he told her, his eyes searching her face. "I ... I don't want to see you getting hurt. I don't trust anything that's going on here."

        It was the most brotherly he had ever seemed in her entire life. Her heart wanted to sing a ballad of sorrow at the lateness of it. She knew that nothing he said or did would stop her. Nikolai Vanzin had lied to her. He had given her a false story and had a false narrative. He could have been stopped that night. She could have been the one to stop him.

        She'd been blinded by pretty eyes. A dangerous smile. She wouldn't let that happen ever again. She would find Nikolai Vanzin and discover the truth. She was unsure how she would end up finding him. She couldn't exactly use the resources at hand without alerting her brother or her parents. She had to have permission to leave the Grand Palace. She was too precious a commodity to let leave without a guard. But she would find a way.

        If Nikolai had taught her one thing it was to be resourceful. She knew that finding things out would be difficult while trapped in the walls of the Grand Palace but she also knew that she had access to certain documents. She could at least find out how false the name was. How many laws this asshole had broken.

         She buried down these thoughts, buried down and locked behind iron bars that would only open upon her soul singing a soft melody. Or if Nikolai showed up and just looked at her once. She had a very hard time not telling her brother anything. At least with Vasily, it was easier for her to lie.

        Anastasia looked him in the eye, the portrait of a serene young woman. "I'll stay right here, Vasily," she gave him a gentle smile. "I promise."

[iamtrebleclefstories]

help, ‘cause I need saving - part one

six times Jo and Alex saved each other from horrible dates and the one time they didn’t 

a two-shot fic taking place in a Season 9 alternate universe

One

“Yeah, you know I just really think it’s weird for a woman to be a surgeon. I don’t know, it just doesn’t sit right with me. I feel like your skills would be of better use in…”

Jo drowned out the voice of the man sitting across from her, willing herself to not give an outburst as a result of her date’s misogynistic comments. She should’ve known that he would be a sexist asshole the moment she heard his name. No self-respecting guy goes by Trent. But no, William Trenton III, insisted on being called Trent because Billy was his grandpa and Will was his father. 

She wanted to bang her head against the table and throw a tortilla chip in Trent’s eyeball. Her patience was quickly fading and Jo was struggling to think of a good enough reason to bail on this guy that Stephanie had set her up with. From the corner of her eye, she watched as Alex Karev walked into the bar. Despite what she’d originally told him about she’d never sleep with him, Jo couldn’t deny that she was extremely attracted to him. It honestly wouldn’t take much from his part to get into her pants. Especially since she’d started spending more time on his service, learning from him and growing as a surgeon. They weren’t exactly friends, but ever since she had shared her tragic backstory with him, there was a sort of kinship between the two doctors. 

Hoping he would catch on to the hints she was dropping, Jo looked over at her superior with a desperate expression on her face. Locking eyes with her, Alex tilted his head in question at the intern. Jo motioned to her date with her head and mouthed the words “help me” as discreetly as she could. Alex raised an eyebrow and his lips twisted up into a smirk as he realized the situation. 

Schooling his expression, Alex walked over to the table with a serious look on his face, “Wilson!”

“Dr. Karev,” Jo feigned surprise. “Is something wrong?”

“Hate to break up your date, but we’re being paged for a trauma. Let’s go,” Alex pointed towards the door. “Now.”

Jo scurried up from the table, grabbed her purse, and mumbled an insincere apology to Trent as she exited the booth and followed Alex out the door. Once they were outside, Jo let out a sigh of relief, “Oh God, thank you so much. I thought my brain was going to melt if I kept talking to him for one more second.”

“That bad huh?” Alex chuckled. “You looked pretty miserable there.”

“It was horrible,” Jo leaned against the outside brick wall. “He kept talking about how the OR was no place for a woman and that my skills would be of better use in the kitchen when I told him that I’m a surgeon. He was a sexist asshole that I hope never has any children because his daughters will grow up oppressed and his sons will grow up to be oppressors.”

Alex nodded, an amused expression on his face, “So, it was worse than bad. Got it.” He leaned against the wall next to her. “Well, I’m glad you got out of that horrible date, but now you owe me a drink.”

“What?” Jo raised her eyebrows. 

“I was going on there to get a drink to wind down after a long day but instead I had to fake a page to get you out of there. I can’t exactly pop back in. So, now you owe me a drink to make up for the one I gave up to help you,” Alex stated, hands in his pockets.

“That’s fair,” Jo conceded. “Well, I know this place near my apartment that does buy two, get one half off beers. It’s not as nice as Joe’s but it’ll do the trick for one night.”

“Lead the way Wilson.”

+++

Two

He wasn't quite sure how he got here. But after friending an old high school classmate on Facebook, Alex found himself on probably one of the worst dates he'd ever been on with Britney Bowers from his high school English class. He was glad that he told her to meet him at Joe's so that he could fake a patient emergency and never call Britney back again.

“I think it’s just so important to eat healthy and live a clean lifestyle. People are so focused on all the illnesses there are nowadays but they refuse to see all the wonderful things that nature has to offer us. I guarantee you that none of that modern medicine stuff is necessary if people just ate the right foods. You see it all comes down to your gut. That’s the root of all the diseases. If we eat healthy then we don’t get sick and there’s no need for medication or vaccines or the healthcare field,” Britney’s ignorance seeped through as she voiced her opinion in conversation. “It’s such a scam, all of it. It’s just Big Pharma that wants your money and everyone is in on it. Why do you think doctors make such good money? I bet half the time they treat you, there’s nothing wrong with you or there’s something that can be remedied naturally that they’re refusing to acknowledge because it takes away from drug companies that stuff money in their pockets.”

“You do know I’m a surgeon, right?” Alex stared at her incredulously. 

Britney laughed awkwardly, "Oh, I'm not talking about you. I'm sure you aren't trying to scam people for their money. I'm just… you must know a lot of people who do."

"Nope, I don't," Alex shook his head. "Most of the people I work with are just trying to save your life, not take your money. We aren't the ones in charge of billing." 

"Huh," Britney stared at him dumbly. 

Much to his luck, Jo had been sitting at the bar witnessing the travesty and found it in herself to be merciful. She walked up to the table with her best innocent expression and spoke, "Dr. Karev, I'm so sorry, you told me not to bother you tonight, but I was monitoring Lily Phillips vitals and I noticed that her SATs started dropping again. I know her parents were hoping not to have to operate again, but I think you should come in and see if there's something more serious going on."

Alex’s eyebrows shot up when he saw who had come to his rescue. Realizing that this was his out, Alex stood up, “Crap. Yeah, lets go.” He turned to face Britney. “Listen, it was great catching up, but I’ve got to go.” 

“Oh, no worries, I get that you’re busy,” Britney flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder. “You can always call me and we can continue this another day.” 

“Sure,” Alex smiled awkwardly, trying not to glare when he heard Jo’s quiet snort. “Goodbye.” 

As soon as they were outside, Jo burst into laughter, “Wow, that was hard to watch. ‘There’s no need for medicines or vaccines or the healthcare field.’ Please, if it weren’t for modern medicine, natural selection would have weeded her out a long time ago.”

Alex laughed along with Jo, “You’re not wrong.” 

“How did you even meet her?” Jo asked as they walked over to their cars. 

“We went to high school together,” Alex huffed in annoyance. “She found me on Facebook and sent me a message. I answered like an idiot. She said that she moved here a couple months ago and was surprised to see that I was living here too. She asked if we could meet up and since I didn’t want to be a complete jerk, I said yes. I also kind of had a thing for her back in the day, so I guess I wanted to see what she was like after all these years. Not making that mistake again.” 

“Yikes,” Jo grimaced. “Well, on the bright side, now you know that you wouldn’t have worked anyway, being that she believes we’re in cahoots with Big Pharma.” 

“You’re right,” Alex chuckled. He looked over at Jo gratefully. Ever since Bailey’s wedding when they fake cried their way into a stranger’s hotel room two weeks ago, they became fast friends. Honestly, Jo was probably one of the people he trusted most in the world. Not to mention she was really hot, which was clouding Alex’s head with all kinds of confusing things, especially when his friends were hell-bent on insisting that he and Jo were more than friends. All he knew was that he enjoyed her company and found himself wanting to spend more time with her. “What do you say we go get some pizza and beers and eat them at my place?”

“Sounds great to me.” 

+++

Three

“So… I’m going on a date tonight.”

Alex raised his eyebrows as he looked over to Jo who’d come up next to him by the fourth floor nurses station, “Okay… and?”

“And, I need you to be on-call in case I need to get out of there,” Jo rested her chin in her hands. 

“You want me to sit by my phone all night waiting for you to call me just in case your date goes bad?” Alex made a face. “If you’re so worried, why are you going out with this guy anyway?”

“Because my drunk ass may have agreed to go on a date with him after you left me alone at Joe’s last night,” Jo narrowed her eyes. “This is why you can’t leave me alone while I’m drunk. I can’t be trusted. I make stupid decisions while drunk.”

“It wasn’t like I wanted to leave. I got paged,” Alex rolled his eyes.

“Ah, yes. I’m sure you tell all the girls that,” Jo grinned sarcastically. 

“Shut up,” Alex sighed and placed the chart down on the counter. “Where’s your date and what time is it at?”

“It’s at the movie theater ten minutes away from here,” Jo answered. “I haven’t been on a movie date since I was sixteen. That’s how I know that it’s going to be interesting…”

“Fine. I’ll be at Joe’s with my ringer on and a bottle of beer, trying to think of a creative way to bail you out,” Alex crossed his arms. “But if an hour goes by and you still haven’t called me, I’m going to assume it’s not horrible and I’ll worry about myself. Maybe I’ll pick up some chick and get laid.”

“You’re the best! I’ll text you later,” Jo smiled brightly as walked away to finish her shift. 

Sure enough, later that evening, Alex snorted when his phone lit up with a message from Jo. 

J: Save me please 

A: Dude, you haven’t even been there for 20 minutes

J: I know but I need to get out of here ASAP. He’s creepy and I feel uncomfortable.

   His name is Brock. BROCK! 

A: Don’t panic 

    I’m coming.

    What do you want me to do? Interrupt the theater?

J: Yes. I don’t know… just help me. And the movie hasn’t started yet. We’re just watching the previews. 

A: I’ll be there in ten minutes 

    I’m going to call and text you fifteen times now

    Don’t answer, it’s part of my plan

Ten minutes later, Alex was standing in front of the ticket booth bargaining with one of the workers. 

“Listen man, I don’t need to sneak into a movie. I’m a surgeon. I’ve got the twelve dollars you need to get in, but I’m telling you, this is an emergency.”

“I’m sorry sir, but I cannot let you in there. Especially now that the movie is about to start any second,” the young ticketmaster said. 

“Dude, you’re not getting it. I’m not asking to go in there. I’m asking you to get someone to interrupt the theater before the movie starts and get her,” Alex huffed. “Her phone is on silent, so she probably hasn’t realized that she had about twenty missed calls. Her brother was just in a car accident and might not live to see tomorrow. I think you can make an exception just this once.”

The teenager looked back and forth between Alex and the theater and sighed, “Fine. What’s her name again?” 

Back in the screening room, Jo was bouncing her leg anxiously as the lights began to dim, signaling the start of the film. She looked at Brock warily as he attempted to rest his hand on her thigh. She brushed it away and chewed on her lip, hoping that whatever plan Alex had in place would begin soon, so that she would have to be stuck watching the movie with this creep. 

Suddenly, the lights brightened again, and she watched as one of the teenaged workers walked into the front of the theater. 

“I’m so sorry for the inconvenience, but I’m looking for a Josephine Wilson.”

The moviegoers grumbled at the interruption, but Jo shot up in her seat, “Yes. That’s me!” 

The worker walked up the steps to her level and spoke, “I’m so sorry, ma’am. But your friend Alex is outside. He says he’s been trying to contact you and you haven’t answered.”

“We’re on a date, of course she hasn’t answered the damn phone,” Brock sneered. “What the hell could be more important than this?”

The teenager looked down apologetically, “He said that he’s called you about twenty times. It’s an emergency.”

Finally catching on to Alex’s plan, Jo suppressed a laugh. She looked down at her phone and indeed saw all the missed calls that he’d warned her not to answer, “Oh my God. It says he called me nineteen times. What happened?”

“Ma’am, your brother has been in an accident,” the worker—Vinny, as described by his name tag—gave her a sympathetic look. “I was told it was really bad.”

“Oh God,” Jo pressed a hand to her mouth and got to work on her fake tears. “Is… is he alive?”

“I’m not sure,” Vinny shook his head. “But I think you should come outside and head over the hospital with your friend. 

“Yes, yes of course,” Jo nodded as a couple tears made their way down her face. 

“I’ll go with you,” Brock stood up from his seat. 

“No!” Jo said, almost too quickly. Shaking her head, she held a hand up. “No. It’s alright. Stay here. Enjoy the movie. We can always go out another day.”

“Okay…” Brock sat back down and watched as Jo walked out of the theater, not realizing that he had no way of contacting her until it was too late. 

When Jo exited, she kept up her façade and ran straight into Alex’s arms, fake tears staining his shirt. He rubbed her back soothingly, “Hey. It’s okay. We’re gonna go see him now.” Alex looked back at the kid. “Thanks for your help.”

“No problem,” Vinny waved his hand. “I hope everything works out with your brother, ma’am.”

“Thank you,” Jo sniffed and wiped a couple tears. She looked up at Alex. “Can we go?”

“Yeah,” Alex led her out of Vinny’s view and into the parking lot. 

As soon as they entered the car, Jo and Alex both burst into laughter. Jo held her stomach as she laughed, “When I said yes to interrupting the theater, I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” Jo wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “My brother was in a horrible accident? Do you know how hard it was not to laugh at that? I don’t have a brother.”

“It was the first thing I could come up with,” Alex took a few deep breaths in an effort to calm his laughs. “You were great in there, though. The crying was very convincing.”

“Thanks,” Jo giggled. “You know he tried to come with me? Brock.”

“That right there—his name—should’ve been a red flag from the get go,” Alex chuckled. “You were right though, fake crying gets you out of everything.”

“Stick with me and maybe I’ll teach you some other tricks,” Jo grinned.

They stared at each other with mirth in their eyes for a few moments. There was no denying that there was something brewing between the two of them. As much as they tried to ignore it, there was this connection that neither of them could quite explain. It was comforting but electric at the same time. But neither of them were bold enough to take it any further. 

“What do you say we get some fried chicken and eat it in the car like we were raised to do?” Alex suggested. 

“I’d say… I think I love you,” Jo joked. “In all seriousness though, let’s get out of here before Brock comes looking for me.”

“Yeah, probably a good idea.”

+++

Four

“So you know how helping each other get out of dates now is our thing?” Alex said as he fell into step with Jo as she exited the intern locker room. 

“Is it now?” Jo raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Didn’t know that.”

“Oh come on. I’ve helped out get out of two really bad dates already, and I expect you to return the favor,” Alex gave her a sideways glance. 

“Mhmm,” Jo hummed. “What kind of trouble did you get yourself into this time, Karev?”

“I haven’t gotten myself into anything yet,” Alex placed his hands on his hips. “I’ve got a date tonight with this blonde chick named Tiffany. I met her last night while I was out grocery shopping. She seems pretty nice, normal, but then again, I met her in the frozen food section so who knows what she’s like. Anyway, I was hoping you’d be available to get me out of it in case things go horribly.”

“I’d love to, but it all depends on what time I get out of here tonight,” Jo sighed. “I’m on Medusa’s—I’m sorry, I mean Dr. Grey’s service today.”

“No you’re not,” Alex shook his head. “I switched with her.”

“What? Why?” Jo scrunched her eyebrows as they approached the elevator. “Is this because you want me available to bail you out?”

“No. Well… yes, but it’s not the only reason,” Alex pressed the elevator button. “Murphy was on my service and I know it’s been months but she still gives me those creepy, weird looks and I don’t feel like dealing with her today.”

Jo snorted in laughter, “You are such a douche.”

“Whatever. She knew what she was getting into when she slept with me,” Alex shrugged. “So, if I let you out when I leave, will you hang around in case I need you.”

“I guess,” Jo faked annoyance.

“Great, thanks.”

By the time the date rolled around, Alex had been pretty optimistic. Sure, Tiffany wasn’t the girl he wanted to go out with, but since he couldn’t date the one person he wanted to date, Alex was doing his best to try to find someone he could make it last with. So far, he wasn’t having the best luck.

It started out normal, great even. So great that for a while there, Alex thought about texting Jo and letting her know that maybe he wouldn’t need her tonight. He discovered that he was very wrong rather quickly. 

Tiffany was beautiful, he couldn’t deny that. But she was too clingy. To the point that it was actually scaring him. He was sure if this went any further and they broke up, he’d have an ex who wouldn’t take no for an answer—or worse, a stalker on his hands. 

Sending a quick text message to Jo under the table, he waited for a reply. 

A: Definitely going to need your help tonight

J: what happened?

A: She’s too clingy. Bad clingy. Creepy clingy. 

    Take a lock of my hair and clone me later clingy. 

J: Yikes. Where are you again?

A: The club across the street from that diner we like to eat at. 

    I should’ve known it would be bad when she suggested going to a club on the first date 

J: You think?

    I’ll be there in fifteen

A: Please hurry 

True to her word, fifteen minutes later, Alex watched as Jo entered the club and took a seat at the bar. He spent about five minutes looking back and forth between Tiffany and Jo, who’d taken to flirting with a couple guys that had come up to her in the short time since she’d arrived. Bouncing his leg impatiently, Alex sent another angry text to Jo. 

A: What the hell are you doing?

    You’re supposed to be helping me, remember? Not trying to get laid.

“Is everything okay?” Tiffany asked. “It’s just, you keep looking at your phone.”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Alex rubbed a hand on his neck awkwardly. 

In that moment, Alex heard a gasp from his right side. Jo had materialized and wore an angry expression, “You!”

“Me?” Alex pointed to himself, confused as to what her play was. 

“Oh my God. You don’t even remember me,” Jo clutched her drink in her hand. “I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re a hump ‘em and dump ‘em kind of guy.” 

“What did I do?” Alex widened his eyes as he waited for Jo’s cue. 

“What did you do? What did you do!” Jo’s eyes hesitated for a split second before she threw her drink in his face. “Thanks for the syphilis, you ASSHOLE!” She turned to face Tiffany before walking off. “Don’t waste your time!”

Sitting there in shock, Alex watched as Tiffany rose from the couch they'd been sitting on to look at Alex with a face of disgust, “And to think, I had picked out our kids names.” 

Once Tiffany grabbed her face and exited the club, Jo came back with a semi-apologetic, but mostly amused face, “I’m so sorry about your shirt, but that was awesome! I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“Yeah, I bet you’re having the time of your life right now,” Alex glared.

“Hey, you told me to get rid of her and that’s what I did,” Jo defended, a shit-eating grin on her face. “Come on, I have one of your old t-shirts in my car.”

“Why do you have one of my t-shirts in your car?” Alex scrunched his face in question. The thought of her having one of his shirts in her car did things to his brain that he wasn’t even sure how to vocalize. 

“It’s from the last time I crashed at your place on the nice, comfy couch I bought you,” Jo smiled. 

“Yeah, with my money.”

“Semantics,” Jo waved her hand. “Anyway, let’s get out of this hell hole and go to watch movies at your house.”

Alex rolled his eyes at her antics, “Fine.”

+++

Five 

Alex should’ve said no the moment April Kepner offered to set him up on a date. Knowing Kepner, he should’ve known what kind of thing he’d be getting himself into. But when she came up to him with a request from a former patient’s daughter who thought he was attractive, he found himself having trouble saying no and ended up agreeing to the date.

That’s how he ended up spending the past 20 minutes staring across the table at a woman who might as well have been the carbon copy of Izzie Stevens. 

He’d truly tried to give the woman a chance and not associate her with his ex-wife, but the longer they spoke, the more freaked out he was getting by the whole situation. Especially when she started talking about her love of baking.

“I’m gonna go use the bathroom real fast,” Alex started to stand from his seat.

“Oh yeah, no worries,” the woman waved her hand. 

The moment he stepped foot into the bathroom, Alex searched for his cellphone in his pocket and dialed the one number he needed to get him out of this situation. It rang four times before a voice came through the speakers.

“Hello?”

“Dude, I need you to get me out of here right now,” Alex whispered into the phone. “I’m at the bar and grill 20 minutes away. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t stand this for another minute.”

“What’s wrong with this one?” Jo chuckled on the other line. 

“She looks like my ex-wife,” Alex hissed into the phone. “She’s got strawberry blonde hair but they have the same face. Their brown eyes are the same. Sure her tits are smaller than Izzie 's were, but they even have the same creepy, overly perky laugh. And her name is Katherine. That was Izzie’s middle name. But she insists on me calling her Kitty Kat.” 

Jo snorted into the phone, “Gosh, you really know how to pick them. What do you want me to do? How are we going to play this?” 

"First of all, I didn't pick her," Alex paused. "Kepner set me up."

"Mistake number one right there," Jo giggled in amusement. "Okay, again, how do you want to play this?"

“I don’t know,” Alex shrugged helplessly. “Pretend you’re my girlfriend and come in here kicking and screaming at me because I’m a cheating asshole or something.” 

“Wow, you’re really desperate this time aren’t you. Aren’t you traumatized from what I did last time?” Jo laughed at his expense. “Okay, I’m changing out of my scrubs right now. Give me half an hour. I’ll figure out a story on my way there.”

“Thank you,” Alex sighed in relief. 

He made his way back to the table giving Kathrine an awkward smile as she continued to yap on and on about some cooking show she’d almost been a contestant on. He was about ready to gouge his eyes out with his fork when he saw Jo walk towards the outdoor area where he and Katherine were sitting with an oddly shaped bundle in her hands. 

“What the hell Alex? Tell me why I just got off the phone with your mother only to find out that you were supposedly at dinner with me, when you told me you were working late,” Jo exclaimed, causing the bundle in her arms to let out a cry. 

Alex stared at her in shock, wondering where the hell she had gotten a baby from. He hoped the very real confusion on his face would come across as shock to Katherine, who was sitting there, jaw dropped and eyes wide, watching the scene unfold. Alex opened his mouth, "Jo—"

"Don't, Alex. Just don't," Jo held up one hand as she rocked the now screaming baby. "I know things have been difficult since the baby was born, but I really expected more than this. I don't know when you stopped loving me, but I expected more respect as the mother of your child. I thought you'd have the decency to at least tell me the truth! Instead of lying to me and your mother, about where you were and who you were with."

Alex looked back and forth between Jo and Kathrine, unsure of what to say. Jo was really selling it this time and he did not want to throw her off by saying the wrong thing, "Jo, I—"

"Shut up, Alex. Just shut up and hold your son," Jo shoved the crying baby into his hands only to scoff when the child stopped crying immediately after landing in Alex's arms. "Of course! Of course he calms down as soon as you hold him. I'm done!" Jo threw her hands up in the air and turned on her feet back towards the car. 

Alex cradled the child close to his chest and looked up at Katherine, “I should go…" 

Much like Izzie used to do, Katherine turned up her nose indignantly, "Yes, and I think it's best if we never see each other again."

"Yup," Alex nodded sheepishly as he made his way out of the outdoor seating area and to Jo's car.

Rocking the small infant in one arm, Alex opened the car door with his free hand and sat inside the passenger seat, staring at Jo who smiled at him. 

“How was that for a rescue?” 

“Where the hell did you get this baby from?” Alex scrunched his face in question. “Please don’t tell me you stole some stranger’s baby.”

“I didn’t steal the baby,” Jo shook her head, a smile playing at her lips. She bent over to stroke the baby’s head. “I signed up to be one of the people that picks up the safe haven babies after they’re dropped off at the fire stations. I got the call about this little guy two minutes before you called me to get you out of your date. I picked him up and came to get you. Which honestly, I would’ve interrupted your date regardless because I wanted you to be the one to give him a check up. I’m supposed to head to the hospital with him now.”

Alex watched as Jo became entranced with the little boy currently resting in his arms. She was a natural when it came to kids, and it showed now as she fussed over a whole bunch of details he hadn’t thought of himself. He opened his mouth in confusion, “Wait, so you used a kid abandoned by his mother at a fire station to play our fake son and get me out of my date with my ex-wife’s doppelganger?”

“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up,” Jo took the infant from his hands and looked at him lovingly. “Come here you little guy. I know it must be scary to be away from your mommy, but I have to believe she did this because she thought she was giving you your best chance. She might not have been able to give you a home, but I will make sure that you end up in a very nice home, with some very nice people, who can give you all the love you deserve.” 

Seeing this side of Jo was incredibly sweet. She was so tender with the child resting in her arms, cuddling him so that he’d never know that he’d been abandoned; so that he would be surrounded with love. Alex knew instantly she would be an amazing mother one day. What scared him though, was that he’d begun picturing himself in that position with her. 

Jo sighed dreamily, “Okay. We’ve got to take him to the hospital for a check up and contact a social worker. If we don’t do it now, I’m afraid I’ll fall in love with him and take him home with me.” 

A crooked smile pulled at the corner of Alex’s lips, “Here, I’ll get him into the car seat and sit in the back with him. You drive.”

+++

Six

“That’s going to be fun. I’m especially excited for that kid’s next eighteen years.” 

They had just finished monitoring a newborn with the most difficult set of parents Alex had ever gotten a chance to work with. When he and Jo were paged down to OB for the case that morning, he never would’ve guessed that the parents would end up being coworkers who hated each other, hooked-up once, and ended up with a baby. But hey, not much surprised him these days. Still, the success of the little boy making it past the benchmark was a special moment for the two parents, who despite their differences were able to come together to make a decision in favor of their child's health. 

The situation inspired a conversation between Jo and Alex regarding workplace relationships. If Alex was being honest, he was a bit biased when it came to his answers. Ever since Jo had all but dragged him into that linen closet to celebrate their win against Cahill with powdered sugar donuts last night, he could not get her out of his mind. Working with her today made him realize just how much he enjoyed her company. They'd grown so close in the last couple months and if he let himself, he could see them potentially becoming more.

Deciding to take initiative, Alex turned towards Jo, “Hey, do you want to go get a beer?”

“Oh, I would love to. Especially after today, but I actually already have plans," Jo waved over to a guy standing in the hallway wearing pink scrubs. "Tomorrow night? Is that cool?”

“Yeah… yeah that’s cool,” Alex looked at the guy suspiciously. "So, you have a date tonight? With someone from OB?"

"Yeah," Jo smiled nervously. "I've been wanting to ask him out for a while now, but, well you know my luck when it comes to dating. Anyway, I finally got the balls to do it today. We’re just going to Joe’s."

“Huh,” Alex nodded. For the first time, Alex felt strange knowing that she would be going out on a date with someone else.  “Well, if you need help getting out of it, I’ll probably be hanging around the bar too.” 

“You know, I don’t think I’ll need you this time. I feel really good about this one,” Jo beamed. She looked over at the doctor in pink scrubs before turning back to Alex. “Jason is waiting for me. I’m going to go change for my date. I’ll see you later.” 

“Yeah, see you later,” Alex waved lamely at her. 

He seriously considered forgoing a drink at Joe’s altogether. He didn’t want to see the girl he was falling for having fun on a date with some guy that wore pink scrubs to work on a daily basis. But another side of him wanted to keep an eye on Jo and make sure she was okay. He wanted to be around in case something happened or that Jason guy tried to pull something fishy. 

When Jo first saw Jason, she was immediately attracted to him. Who wouldn’t? He was hot and delivered babies for a living. After going on failed date after failed date over the past few months, Jo wanted a win. Besides, she needed a distraction from the thoughts invading her head about Alex. Because it definitely was not appropriate to think of your friend in the way she’d begun to think of him over the past few months. Especially when said friend was a pediatric surgeon who held babies on a daily basis and she’d begun picturing what he’d look like holding their own child. Yeah, that was a glaring warning that she was treading into dangerous territory with Alex. 

What she hadn’t banked on was Jason being the worst date she’d ever been on. From the outside, they looked like a normal, carefree couple, but something within her was raising some giant, blaring red flags. Maybe it was the way Jason had insulted and disapproved of her close friendship with Alex the moment they walked out of the peds wing earlier that evening. Maybe it was the way he mansplained everything and spoke down to her. Maybe it was the way he roughly grabbed her arm and raised his voice when she said something he disagreed with. 

She needed an out and she needed one fast. 

Alex was standing in the corner of the bar playing darts, periodically glancing at Jo and the guy she was with. He made sure to get a really good look at this Jason guy, memorizing his face enough to imagine it on the dart board as he flicked his wrist and hit a bullseye. One second he was pulling a dart out of the board and taking a swig of his beer and the next, someone was tugging on his arm to get his attention. 

“Kiss me,” Jo looked up at him with wide eyes. 

“What?” Alex sputtered his drink. 

“Jason. He’s the worst one Alex. The worst. And he’s at the bar getting more drinks and I need to get away from him,” Jo rambled. 

“I still don’t understand how—”

“Just kiss me,” Jo blurted, eyes desperate. “Public displays of affection make people uncomfortable.”

“Yes, they do,” Alex responded dumbly, still unsure as to what was going on. 

He didn’t have any time to think about it though, because as before he knew what was going on, Alex was being pulled into a searing kiss. While this wasn’t the way he’d pictured his first kiss with Jo going, he wasn’t complaining. Not when he could feel her this close to him. Not when her tongue met his own. Not when he could hear her whimpers as she deepened the kiss. 

They could’ve kept going. They would’ve kept going, if it weren’t for Jason’s angry interruption, “You little bitch. I should’ve known you were a liar when you said that there was nothing going on between you and Karev.”

“Jason—” Jo attempted a weak protest. 

“No, you know what? I dodged a bullet with you Wilson. I don’t need to be dating a whore,” Jason’s fists balled up at his sides. 

Seeing the red in Jason’s eyes and his fists ready to strike, Alex intervened, “Don’t you dare call her that or any insult ever again. She’s not your girlfriend, she’s not even your friend. She didn’t cheat on you. So, if I hear you ever disrespect her like that again, you’re gonna want to skip town and that’s a promise.”

Jason glared at them in disgust before turning on his heels and walking out of the bar. 

It wasn’t until Jason was long gone that they were reminded of what had happened minutes prior. Staring up at each other with the strangest expressions on their faces, Alex and Jo waited in silence for a moment. Because what were you supposed to say when you kissed your best friend and you liked it?

The question was, where do they go from here? 

With the surfacing of Jo’s thoughts about Alex blaring 

loudly in her mind, Jo mumbled a small, “thank you” in order to avoid the very real possibility that she’d just thrown this friendship down the toilet. 

Alex nodded awkwardly at her appreciation, “Yeah… don’t mention it.”

And for the first time in months, the end of a horrendous date was not celebrated with Jo and Alex hanging out. It was spent alone. 

[edorazzi]

It’s the post everyone’s been waiting for! 

It’s taken a little while for me to get around to this, but it’s worth it for being able to make a full reaction post. This is really long so I’ll put it under a cut, but check it out for my complete scene-by-scene reaction of Miraculous’ “Felix” episode! (´∀｀)♡

Okay, I’ve been putting this off for days now so it’s time to finally get to it. I’m comfy and undisturbed and have my supplies ready to go.

I know next to nothing about what I’m going into. I’ve seen a little bit here and there because some people haven’t tagged their content properly, but I haven’t watched either of the trailers. I haven’t even looked directly at the images of Felix which have been going around. I’ve tried to stay as blind as possible, so as a result I’m pretty excited but also very anxious. I’ve taken two beta blockers today and I’m considering taking a third.

I usually liveblog episodes on our Ladybug PV Discord server (message me for an invite!) but this time I’m making a proper post out of it. I’ll be typing up my reactions as I go then cleaning everything up a little bit afterwards. I think it’s the first time I’ve done something like this on my blog so here goes!

- “Script: Thomas Astruc” NO. HE REALLY COULDN’T JUST STEP AWAY FROM THIS EPISODE GRACEFULLY, COULD HE. HE HAD TO GET HIS HANDS DIRTY. I’m not going to say “fuck this man” but, you know, identical sentiments. I’m opening my chocolate bar.

- God, Emilie looks more like ET every time I see her. Such an awkward model.

- Oh but wait, Sébastien Thibaudeau was on the script? That does actually give me some hope! Next to Zag himself he’s the only writer on this mess of a show I trust. HE FIXED WAYHEM, CAN HE DO FELIX A SOLID TOO? PLEASE. PLEASE SÉBASTIEN OL BUDDY OL PAL OL FRIENDA MINE

- Does Gabe have anything else to say to his wife other than monologuing his Miraculous plan over and over? They say people in comas can still hear things but Emilie’s probably double unconscious from how boring her husband is.

- DON’T LIKE THAT KNIFE SOUND EFFECT FROM THOSE RINGS. Am I supposed to find it sweet that Gabe’s taking such good care of their wedding bands or is he about to use them for evil? Also where’s Felix.

- ADRIEN SWEETHEART. I maintain that it’s weird to have a statue of your wife/mother/self in your own garden but it kills me that he’s just sitting there in front of it like a lost kitten.

- “Of course, someone will get you right away.” IS THAT FELIX. WAS SHE ON THE PHONE TO FELIX. WHERE’S MY SON, NATHALIE HAVE YOU SEEN MY SON

- That wide-eyed look Adrien turns up towards the window is killing me even more. I’M SO SAD. I see he also hasn’t noticed he’s sitting in the middle of a giant butterfly circle, unless he’s so used to it being Gabe’s logo that he’s just not paying it any mind. When was this all built? Has Gabe always used a butterfly motif even before he got his Miraculous and it was just a great coincidence, or did he commission this whole garden area after Emilie went missing? I guess you could pass it off as eccentricity but in the real world that would be a HUGE red flag that Gabe murdered her. I dunno man.

- DON’T WAVE AT HIM LIKE THAT, NATHALIE. YOU RATTED HIM OUT IN 5 SECONDS IN THAT THEORETICAL FUTURE WHERE YOU DISCOVERED HE WAS CHAT NOIR. YOU DON’T CARE ABOUT THIS BOY. >:V

- “It’s been one year.” HAS IT? Hasn’t Adrien been at school for at least a year now? Didn’t his mom vanish two years prior to that?! Maybe she’s talking about how long Gabe has been fighting Ladybug and Chat Noir but knowing this show’s messy timeline it could be anything. WHERE’S FELIX.

- That’s the song from Chat Blanc! Was that something his mom taught him? OH NO, I’M EVEN SADDER NOW. This is what I mean about Sébastien’s writing, we’d never get this kind of focus on Adrien from Garbage Man Astruc. This kind of character exploration does wonders for ML whenever it’s brought up so I hope this is consistent.

- SHIT, GABRIEL’S OUT OF THE HOUSE. SOMETHING’S WRONG. THOSE EXPENSIVE LEATHER SHOES HAVEN’T TOUCHED ACTUAL GROUND IN YEARS. ADRIEN GET OUT OF THERE.

- I do like that Adrien doesn’t get up when his dad comes to stand right next to him like that. It’s just informal enough. He’s waiting for Gabe to make the first move this time and that’s nice development considering how stiff and cold their relationship was in S1.

- OOOOH GABE THAT’S AN AWKWARD CROUCH. Any lower down and his back is going to go. He’ll be stuck there. I do LOVE that he’s trying though, I don’t even know what he’s going to say to Adrien but this is already SO good.

- “There’s something important I have to talk to you about.” Finally time for The Talk, huh.

- GABE PLEASE. ADRIEN’S WAY TOO CHIRPY TO HAVE ACTUALLY CAUGHT ON TO WHAT YOU WERE GOING TO SAY. HE THINKS YOU’RE TRYING TO SAY YOU LOVE HIM OR SOMETHING ELSE RIDICULOUS

- “I’ve noticed how close you and Nathalie have become!” CLOSE ENOUGH. Still in the ballpark of Adrien thinking his dad has real human feelings! 

- “HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY THINK SUCH A THING??” I GENUINELY LAUGHED OUT LOUD AT HOW ANGRY GABE WAS ABOUT THAT. I’m not sure what to think of the “Nathalie replacing Emilie when Emilie’s technically still alive” plot either but GABE’S DECIDED FOR ME. Also good job yelling in your son’s face when you were JUST having a moment, good luck getting back up off your knees in order to storm away, old man.

- Oh alright, he did get up, but it was with a strange angry bow-legged prance. I think he still had trouble.

- I love the way Adrien just kinda wide-eye-blinks at him, like Gabe’s emotional outburst is going totally over his head. He’s been dealing with akuma FAR too long to be bothered by this.

- Guests, plural? I’m guessing Felix is one of them but is he with someone else? That makes sense given he’s (as far as I’ve gathered) the same age as Adrien so he wouldn’t be running around far from home unchaperoned, but OHHH this is so interesting.

- So they ARE claiming it’s been one year since Emilie vanished! This just doesn’t work as a Season 3 episode, especially with Nathalie and Gabe’s romantic development being as far along as it is. Emilie’s been gone for at LEAST three years by this point! Read your show bible once in a while you horrible garbage man!!! Also ADRIEN SWEETHEART THAT’S A LITTLE PREMATURE. You can say “went away forever” when you’re three years into her disappearance, the anniversary of one year really isn’t long enough to claim she’s never coming back!

- OH NO, IT’S THE GIRLS. I’m already bored. Unless Luka is here I really just do not care what they’re all up to. I haven’t missed Marinette at ALL in the first two-and-a-half minutes and I don’t want to see her now. WHERE’S FELIX.

- I’m sorry, how are Lila, Chloé AND Kagami all on a video call together without any blood being drawn? Also for god’s sake PLEASE leave Adrien alone, you want to ask first if he’d LIKE some company or if he’d prefer a quiet personal day to think about his mom? OF COURSE NOT MARINETTE, YOU WOULDN’T WOULD YOU. 

- Okay, a video message is definitely a better idea than trying to break into his house AGAIN. At least then he can watch it whenever he feels up to it. The first good, safe, noninvasive idea Mari’s had for SEVERAL episodes when it comes to Adrien.

- I’M REALLY TORN WHEN IT COMES TO THE ENGLISH DUB. On one hand I hate how little screentime Nino has when he’s not just being Alya’s fashion accessory, but on the other hand I’m so glad they switched scenes the moment Nino started his video because I CANNOT handle his dub voice. Nino just deserves better in general really.

- HE WAS CRYING. MY BOY WAS CRYING AGAIN. I’M NOT COOL WITH THIS. IT’S NOT ABOVE YOUR PAYGRADE TO GIVE HIM A HUG, NATHALIE.

- ALRIGHT HI ELSA. IS THIS HIS AUNT? THAT’S SPOOKY. 

- Her name is Amelie? So their parents had twins and named them Amelie and Emilie, and they turned out the same right down to the over-the-shoulder Dead Anime Mom hairstyles? That’s lazy parenting down to a tee, can’t mix your twins up if you never have to learn the difference between them in the first place! But that’s INTERESTING that Felix is (I assume, still haven’t seen him yet) from Emilie’s side of the family, I’ve always had the impression he was a petit Gabriel.

- OHHH THAT’S MY BOY! I CAN SEE MY BOY IN THE DOORWAY!!! OH MY GOD GIVE HIM TO ME. GIVE ME FELIX. GIVE ME MY SON.

- ADRIEN IMMEDIATELY JUMPING ON HIM IN A HUG IS ABSOLUTELY PERFECT. WHILE FELIX’S HAND IS STILL OUTSTRETCHED FOR A HANDSHAKE. I know this episode is going to go downhill because there’s no way it won’t, but this one single moment is EVERYTHING I WANTED. I should just close the tab now and leave it at this, I really should.

- “Do you remember when they used to have so much fun pretending to be each other? Once they had you and Emilie fooled for a whole weekend!” WHERE HAS THIS BEEN FOR MY ENTIRE ORDEAL GETTING THROUGH THIS SERIES. I don’t even care if this Felix is a stone cold bitch, it’s enough to know he and Adrien were besties when they were kids and Adrien still wanted to hug him the second he walked through the door. AMAZING.

- “I WON’T BE FOOLED A SECOND TIME.” WHAT DOES THAT MEAN, GABE. THEY WERE PROBABLY TODDLERS. ARE YOU JUST SO USED TO GETTING YOUR ASS HANDED TO YOU BY CHILDREN THAT YOU’RE SUSPICIOUS OF EVERY SINGLE ONE NOW

- Aww, Felix is American (dubbed, anyway). I was really hoping he’d be British with all the references to London over the last season. He does have a nice voice though! I can tell he shares Adrien’s actor but he’s got the softness I’d have expected from his character. There’s kind of an interesting look about his face though, I wish they’d tweaked it a bit to give him a sharper look but I guess he IS like 14, he can afford to still have a bit of baby-cheeked roundness. I’m going to find the positives in every part of this because I will NOT give Garbage Man Astruc the satisfaction of being disappointed like I know he wants me to be. It’s been a fucking war from the moment I saw his name in the writing credits and my best weapon is being pleased about everything in this episode.

- Okay, he looks a little better in the following closeup where his eyes are slightly narrowed. I think it’s the slightly-below-the-chin angle which doesn’t really work for his character model with his soft cheeks and high collar. FELIX IS A BABY.

- WHY WILL NOBODY SHAKE HIS HAND. Adrien hugged him instead and Gabe is ignoring him completely, Felix is clearly so perplexed and I love it. He’s fourteen! He’s fourteen and doing his best with social graces but NOBODY WILL HELP HIM.

- “Felix, you know your uncle’s never been the physical sort!” HE KICKED HIS OWN SON RIGHT ACROSS PARIS IN THE LAST EPISODE BUT SURE, IF YOU SAY SO.

- “Oh, how sweet! You’re still wearing your wedding band!” YEAH? IT’S BEEN LIKE A YEAR?? Again this would make more sense if it had been around three years like we KNOW Emilie’s been gone for, but picking someone out for still wearing their ring after 12 months?! And why isn’t Amelie more emotional about this anyway, isn’t it her sister who’s missing? I wouldn’t be poking fun at MY sister’s husband for keeping his ring if SHE went missing. No wonder Felix seems like he turned out weird.

- I CAN’T MAKE OUT THE NAME OF HER BRANCH OF THE FAMILY AND IT’S KILLING ME. SOMEONE LET ME KNOW WHAT THAT WAS. Graham de Vanily? I can’t place the words. I mean I’m going to keep calling Felix “Agreste” no matter what but I’d like to know what canon is trying to get at.

- “It’s been a long journey from London” I KNEW IT, I FFFFFFFFFUCKING KNEW IT. SO THEY ARE BRITISH?! BUT THEY HAVE AMERICAN ACCENTS?! I mean I guess they’re French first and foremost, but what the fuck is with the American accents if you’re making a POINT about them being from London?! I can’t wait for the French audio to be released, I really want to know what Felix sounds like there. Regardless AAAH MY SON IS FROM MY CITY, I’M SO PLEASED.

- “TakeFelixtoyourbedroom.” EASY GABE THEY JUST MET, ALSO THEY’RE COUSINS

- Poor Felix looks so depressed being saddled with Adrien. Sweetie it’s okay, think positive! You could be stuck with Marinette and THAT would be a true nightmare.

- Now why does Felix keep glancing at Gabe? Is there something going on there? Is he suspicious about what happened to his aunt? I can’t imagine he knows anything about the Miraculous so what’s the deal here?

- UuuuuUUUUGH we’re back with the rest of the gang. I’M NOT INTERESTED, SHOW ME MORE FELIX.

- “Help me Tikki! What would you tell a Kwami friend who’s lost their mom?!” You’re talking to a 5000-year-old demigoddess, Mari, I don’t think she’s gonna relate.

- MARI YOU CAN’T CONFESS TO ADRIEN. NOT AFTER CHAT BLANC. GABE WILL LOSE ALL HIS CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT TO WRECK THE LOVE SQUARE AND ALSO THE MOON’S GOING TO EXPLODE. WHY ISN’T BUNNIX HERE TO SLAP THE TABLET OUT OF YOUR HANDS

- Should Tikki really be encouraging this?! I have no idea where in the timeline this is supposed to be. Maybe this is at a stage where she doesn’t know Adrien is Plagg’s chosen so there’s no reason to steer Marinette away from bonding with him. Or maybe every episode just plays by its own rules and there’s really no such thing as continuity in this series. I want to see Felix again.

- YANKING AT AN ELECTRONIC DEVICE ON THE OUTER EDGE OF A BOAT ISN’T GOING TO END WELL. DON’T. I do love how :D Alya is about it though, if nothing else I love what a supportive friend she is.

- Oh, the tablet didn’t go into the water! I’m genuinely surprised by that. Though I imagine Felix is going to fuck things up in some way so he’ll probably be the one to destroy the video somehow. We all know the relationship development isn’t allowed to move forward so SOMETHING’S going to happen to it.

- Thank god we’re back to the mansion. I’m surprised and pleased that (for now at least) we’re only getting the girls in small doses and the plot is mainly focused around the Agrestes. Gorizilla is my favourite episode to date and it did a similar thing with allowing Marinette to be a side character for once along an Adrien-centric plotline, so hopefully this episode will be similar. I’m liking its odds so far but who knows what Horrible Garbage Man Astruc has up his sleeve.

- “I’m really sorry I didn’t come to your dad’s funeral.” I’M SORRY WHAT? PARDON ME? THAT’S AN ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM I DIDN’T EXPECT. As a side note I love Felix being killer at basketball for some reason, he doesn’t look like the athletic type at ALL but he still made that net over his shoulder without even LOOKING. Goddamn. Can everyone please appreciate how cool my son is!!!

- “My father thought it would be too hard on me, considering everything that’s happened this year.” So Felix lost his dad VERY RECENTLY. OUCH. DON’T LIKE THAT. Or I DO like that because it’s already giving his character some extra depth when we’re still only just getting to know him, but on an emotional level I don’t like that. 

- “He’s very... protective of me.” CHAT BLANC REALLY WAS A HOT MESS OF AN EPISODE WASN’T IT. 

- Now Felix is giving Adrien a hug?! I didn’t see that one coming. My canon Felix would mean it but I don’t quite trust this new Felix yet, he’s probably up to something.

- WHAT A JARRING PIANO TRANSITION. Also why?! What does he have to gain from swiping Adrien’s phone? He’s probably got a terrible roaming plan on his own mobile, that’s always my problem when I go to France. If you truly loved your cousin you’d let him browse Reddit on your phone, Adrien. This is worse than not coming to his dad’s funeral.

- PLAGG KNOWS SOMETHING’S UP. He ought to, in another life he and Felix are STILL dealing with each other.

- Okay I take back what I said about Felix’s voice. Bryce Whatshisface isn’t doing a very good job separating the tones. I can buy that Adrien and Felix sound very similar but their delivery should be completely different! I really do want to watch this in French, I get the feeling it’ll sound much better.

- AH YES, HERE WE GO. I’m getting the feeling this is Garbage Man’s part of the episode. Squished cheese aside, I do like the implication Felix does (or did) card magic and karate. I’m thinking of that Mickey Mouse episode where he vanishes Donald’s car keys with a hand trick except it’s Felix vanishing Marinette’s phone when she’s about to text Adrien or something. I’ve got to draw that.

- “Mind if I take a shower?” WHY, FELIX. I mean I’d probably want to shower too after the London-Paris commute (and I’m sure he’s only going in there to wreak havoc, put food colouring in Adrien’s shampoo bottles or something) but what a weird time to ask!

- I mean Plagg has a point about difficult home situations not justifying bad behaviour (and I feel like that’s not what’s going on, with how he was glaring at Gabe I think he’s behaving like this for some other reason), but Felix’s dad LITERALLY DIED. Like they had a funeral and everything. Emilie is just “missing”. They’re SIMILAR but that’s still a false equivalence because Adrien’s got hope to hold on to and Felix doesn’t.

- So we’re not going to talk about how Felix got into Adrien’s passcode-protected phone? I guess he could have done the fogging-up-the-screen trick from Oblivio. Standing around in a steamy bathroom in three layers of clothing is a great way to sweat yourself out and ruin your hair though, way to get even more gross than a five-hour commute between countries.

- “Of course that idiot has a crush on a superhero!” EASY THERE, MR HOWLING-ON-A-ROOFTOP-BECAUSE-HE-SAW-THE-GIRL-HE-LIKED. WE’VE ALL SEEN THE PV.

- I’ve just noticed Felix has a ring too! I don’t know how I missed that before this scene! That’s NICE. He’s still not allowed to have it on his middle finger (LET HIM SWEAR) but that’s a nod back to Chat Noir which I really appreciate!

- ROSE HAS BEEN ON THE HELIUM. SOMETHING’S NOT RIGHT THERE.

- FELIX KNOWS CHLOÉ! THAT’S NICE, THAT’S GOOD. I LIKE THAT. That’s also a really nice little video from her, I love the few small moments we’ve had that affirm she and Adrien really ARE friends, whether she wants to date him or not. 

- OOOH HE DELETED THE VIDEOS. I’m curious about him borrowing Adrien’s clothes too, are they going to dress the same? You’d think Adrien wouldn’t give someone an exact copy of the outfit he’s currently wearing but I genuinely don’t know if he owns anything different. I hope they don’t just use two Adrien models for the rest of the episode, please let me see Felix properly :/

- WHY. HONESTLY, WHY. CAN I PLEASE GET AN EXPLANATION FOR WHY FELIX IS DOING THIS.

- OOOH MARI YOU’RE NOT GONNA LIKE THIS. I can imagine Felix is going to say something nasty and that’ll set the girls off and bring about the akuma of the week. I’m mildly entertained but I’m still not engaged with this idea without any proper explanation. We’d better get something by the end of the episode which justifies what’s made Felix do this, because “he’s just evil lol” would be a reeeeally low move from Garbage Man Astruc. 

- MARI SWEETIE. YOU’VE GOTTA LEARN TO CHECK A ROOM IS EMPTY BEFORE YOU RUN INSIDE AND START FREAKING OUT VERY LOUDLY. LUKA’S HEARD ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING. 

- Luka is such a nice character. Why does he get to be so high quality when Felix has been turned into a cheese-smashing phone-stealing gremlin? I mean I KNOW why, but I’d like to think the showwriters are better than this. They’re not, but I’d like to think they are.

- WHAT A VIDEO MESSAGE. I love how Luka’s just sitting there grimacing while Mari speeds off into battle, he doesn’t know what she’s about to do but he knows better than to try stopping her.

- Back with Gabe and Nathalie. Is this what was being foreshadowed when Gabe claimed he wouldn’t be fooled by the boys’ identity switch twice? Is he GOING to be fooled again or will he be the one person who can tell immediately that this isn’t his son? 

- “FELIX.” WOW, HE REALLY WASN’T FOOLED TWICE. RESPECT. He may have trouble getting up off the ground if he sits down too low but he can at least identify his child in a difficult situation like this, props to Gabe this week.

- “All this disappointment might just help us get rid of our unwanted guests!” SHUT YOUR MOUTH, FELIX IS A DELIGHT. The only unwanted guest here is Astruc on the writing team.

- “Felix... I told you that you couldn’t fool me twice.” Way to blow your identity in five seconds Gabe. I guess he hasn’t sent out the akuma yet so this might just be a personal monologue, but he starts addressing his victims directly so often at this stage that I’m really not sure what they can or can’t hear. SHIT’S RISKY.

- OH OKAY, SO HE’S SENDING THIS TRIPLE AKUMA AFTER FELIX? AND/OR ADRIEN, DEPENDING ON HOW HARD IT IS TO TELL THEM APART? I guess that’s what he means by getting rid of their guests, if the house is attacked by a monster (or monsters?) they aren’t going to want to stick around, but I REALLY HOPE YOU’RE TAKING ADRIEN’S WELLBEING INTO ACCOUNT HERE GABE OL BUDDY :/

- “TIKKI, SPOTS ON! MNUURGH” ME TOO MARINETTE. I’M REALLY ONLY 12 MINUTES INTO THIS.

- I’m gonna be honest, I’m not really interested in the girls. I was hoping for a real triple akuma (like Oblivio was apparently Alya and Nino together) but they’re all just villains we’ve seen before. There’s stuff I could comment on here but I just want to see more of Felix, that’s what I’m here for.

- “Nathalie, get Adrien to a safe place far from his cousin!” YOU’RE REALLY JUST GONNA SACRIFICE FELIX LIKE THIS. I guess that makes sense, I WAS complaining during Chat Blanc that Adrien is Gabriel’s weak point, so all things considered I’m not surprised that he’ll protect Adrien but just flat-out wants Felix dead. Fair enough.

- WOW. I THOUGHT ADRIEN WAS GOING TO BE HEROIC AND DEFEND FELIX BUT HE WANTS HIM DEAD TOO. Or was that a double bluff to make the akuma think he MUST be Felix so he can lead them away and keep his cousin safe? He’s just run off with a wild cackle so I’m thinking it’s the latter. HE’S A GOOD BOY AND A TRUE HERO.

- I also find it kind of funny how Nathalie will jump in harm’s way to defend him when there have been INNUMERABLE other episodes of Gabe just setting an akuma directly on Adrien for the hell of it. Maybe because there isn’t really any ‘harm’ here to start with; the three girls’ powers are probably the least violent of all the akuma we’ve seen so far.

- AM I REALLY ABOUT TO SEE FELIX DRESSED AS ADRIEN DOING KARATE. I HOPE HE’S GOOD AT IT.

- OH MY GOD HE IS GOOD AT IT. That’s cool! I was expecting him to totally flop considering how badly his imposter trick went down a few minutes ago, but it’s nice to see he’s as capable at fighting as he is at basketball. When do I get to see his magic card tricks?

- YEAH I FEEL THE SAME PLAGG. WHAT’S EVEN HAPPENING. Not that I think Adrien shouldn’t save Felix, I just want to know WHY Felix felt like he had to do this in the first place! I feel like “can I PLEASE get a waffle” except instead of watching the employees fight I’m watching this episode careening away with no pauses to explain what’s going on.

- FELIX C’MON. STOP CAUSING PROBLEMS ON PURPOSE. I can tell Garbage Man Astruc still has the reins here because causing even MORE trouble even AFTER Adrien saved his ass is a completely illogical course of action. PUT SÉBASTIEN BACK IN THE WRITERS CHAIR.

- “WHICH PART OF THE WORD ‘NO’ DID YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?!” Oh perfect, great, can’t let this episode end without accusing Felix of not respecting consent! That’s a hot button issue and if Garbage Man Astruc can get him on that bandwagon then fans HAVE to hate this character! Great move! Fucking pillock!

- WOW CHAT THAT’S MEAN. I guess accusing Felix of having no friends is justified in the context of the episode but yikes :(

- Was that a flash of humiliation from Felix there? God will one of the writers PLEASE save this character, PLEASE don’t let this episode end without someone getting him out of the Garbage Man’s big meaty claws.

- Excuse me WHAT? Felix is talking directly to Papillon?! So he knows about all the Miraculous stuff?! Oh NO, is this about getting his dad back? I don’t know whether the One Wish is common knowledge (I don’t think it is?) but maybe Felix put the pieces together on his own back home, so all his behaviour here has been trying to incite an akuma that he can take advantage of to appeal to Papillon?! Or he could just be a bitch all on his own, which is probably what the Garbage Man would prefer, but this makes a lot of sense all of a sudden.

- BRO HE NEARLY DIED. BRO. BROOO.

- “I hope you’ve learned your lesson!” YOU’RE NOT EVEN GONNA ASK ABOUT THE PAPILLON THING? YOU CAN’T JUST TREAT THIS AS A REGULAR DISTURBANCE, FELIX KNOWS SHIT ABOUT THE MIRACULOUS YOU GUYS--

- FELIX’S MOM IS REALLY GOING TO BLAME HIS DEAD DAD FOR THIS? HARD YIKES. NO WONDER FELIX IS WEIRD.

- I’m expecting this isn’t over, because Felix still clearly wants something specific that he didn’t get, but I’ll take this cute hug for what it is. He didn’t have an evil expression behind Adrien’s back this time either and the music is all soft and nice, plus he FINALLY got a handshake from Gabe, but I absolutely do NOT imagine this episode will end without getting an extra shot in at the PV fans somehow. We’re not getting off this easy.

- Why doesn’t Gabriel want Adrien to go after Felix? Is he scared he’ll try to run off, or ask them to stay longer when he really wants to get rid of them?

- AHAHA FELIX STOLE GABE’S RING. WHAT A BRAT. Was that the “jewelry” he mentioned wanting in return for helping Papillon? I figured it was a Miraculous thing but maybe not.

- OHHH, look how much Felix loves his mom! This is such a sweet scene. I particularly like the idea that Amelie was trying to get the rings back to give one to Felix because the way she was speaking to Gabe made it sound like she wanted them Just Because. But you can’t mention some wild story connected to the rings and then not explain it! I want to know what that is, I want to know why Felix is so fascinated with it!!!

- ALSO, FELIX GETTING A BIG KISS RIGHT ON THE FOREHEAD. EXCELLENT. I’ll fucking BET this is another scene Sébastien sneaked in because it’s such an emotional quality shift from the whole clone mess. Like what the fuck even WAS that.

- Yep, Felix is still evil! WHY THOUGH. WHAT’S GOING ON. CAN I PLEASE GET A WAFFLE

- I was expecting a worse ending, but “Felix can’t ever come back to Paris because Gabriel will kill him with his bare hands if he does” is decent enough. If there’s no further confirmation (and NO, anything Garbage Man Astruc tweets later on does NOT fucking count so don’t try me) I’m going to take it that he WAS actually sorry for what he did to Adrien. That’s better than nothing.

.

.

WELL THAT WAS AN EPISODE. That actually wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be - it could have been a lot better but it could have been a lot worse too. The beginning and end were nice enough even if the middle part was Garbage Man Astruc’s usual atrocious mess of self-service, though I do particularly despise the hamfisted consent issue shoved in there just to generate extra reasons to hate the character. WE GET IT, YOU DON’T LIKE FELIX. OFF YOU FUCK. 

I’ve slept on this next paragraph to give myself time to formulate some concrete thoughts about the plot, so... Well, it was a mess, that’s for sure. They spent way too much time establishing how oH sO eViL Felix was and not nearly enough time actually explaining his character. 

Why is he acting out like this? What has he got against Adrien in particular? Is he really sore about Adrien not supporting him at his dad’s funeral or is that just what Adrien thinks is his problem? What was his relationship with his dad before he died? Was his troublemaking all about trying to provoke an akuma and ask Papillon to help him get his family rings back (which he was clearly trying to steal from the moment he walked through the door, only Gabe wouldn’t shake his hand the first time), or was that just a side effect of causing shit for no reason? Did he mean his apology to Adrien at the end? WHAT was the deal with the rings and the story attached to them? There’s a whole interesting story buried in here which just got completely overlooked by the emphasis on how terrible he was and that’s really disappointing. 

I did like his damaged-but-still-good relationship with Adrien though, there’s still hope there and maybe Felix (if he ever shows up again, which I only hope he does if it’s NOT another excuse for Garbage Man Astruc to shit on the PV fandom again, for the love of FUCK don’t give this guy multiple opportunities) will start coming around and making the effort to be a better cousin since Adrien’s given him a second chance. I don’t know. What I liked just as much was Marinette actually barely being in this episode at all, for the first time since Gorizilla she’s ALLOWED to be the supporting character again and that’s GREAT.

I don’t really know what else to say. I’m exhausted. Adrien’s a darling and I think I prefer my Twin AU, though canon Felix being a delightful little gremlin who causes problems-on-purpose is something I can work with in the future too. 

Thanks for coming on this... interesting journey with me! I posted a set of tweets last night which I’ll leave here to finish up:

[rpbetter]

Hey there, check out this pinned post first!

Thanks for visiting Roleplay Better, where I believe that you can fucking do better! That kind of language, however, is why it is important for you to read this post before proceeding.

This blog and its posts are meant for an adult RPing audience; be over legal, adult age in the USA, 18+. Do not interact by submitting, asking, reblogging, commenting, or liking unless you are over eighteen years of age. By interacting with RPB or me, Vespertine, you are assumed to be following this rule. If you are breaking this rule, you will be blocked.

I have that rule because this blog can/will/does address topics inappropriate for a younger audience. Those can include, but are not limited to:

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foul, sexual, and otherwise “Adult” language

 unpopular opinions and approaches about writing, RP, fandoms

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this blog is founded upon the idea that fiction has reflections in reality, but that fiction does not utterly equate to reality. You should write with realism, your characters should be people in their own right, and you should absolutely be addressing many popular topics responsibly, which is to say realistically. I do not support or otherwise condone purity culture, so while realism is a big deal here, fiction = reality arguments are a no

seriously, you have no idea how fucking salty I am! I try to be fair, reasonable, and mellow with everyone, but it can and does come out.

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Don’t tumblr message me. Use the inbox or submit.

Due to recent events, I am changing this rule. It’s hard for me to receive messages unexpectedly, and I hate to imply that I’ll be able to get to these quicker because it isn’t the truth. Quicker, better responses come from the inbox. However, there have been too many incidents lately in which people needed to speak privately and had to make that a request. If you’re having a problem and need to vent, request sensitive advice, etc.? It’s alright, go ahead and drop me a PM, y’all. I’ll get back to you as soon as I am able. Please, do not be angry with me if I respond to inbox things or my queue is running! You’re important to me, I just might not have the requisite social cognition and energy you deserve at that time.

Aggressive inbox messages will be responded to in kind. I don’t care if you are on anon or not, if you haven’t an ounce of polite communication skills, I won’t have them either. This is not a “we don’t publish anon hate” blog.

I highly encourage asks and submissions on any and all RP topics, and it’s perfectly alright to be salty as fuck in them, you can totally vent here, but don’t take out your frustration on me or be demanding of me. I am always happy to help with information, advice, or just a response to your venting-it’s important to know someone is listening. However, it may take me a few days to a week to get to you, be patient. 

If you are going to vent, leave out usernames. This isn’t a callout or burnbook blog. It’s fine to state characters and fandoms, but if this becomes a problem, it’ll have to change. I don’t want this becoming a salt blog for one or two fandoms I very likely can’t even stand. Practice the fine art of alluding to things, its good experience for your writing! Besides, RPC problems are RPC problems, I promise. It might feel like it’s just your fandom, but there is something relatable in all corners.

I will not overly police comments. Keep the slurs and shit out of it, though. If there is an issue going on pertaining to a serious instance of hate speech, or behavior I, personally, deem as too inappropriate and/or immature to be taking place on my post, I will step in. Otherwise, I expect everyone to be adults in the comments and reblogs too. If you want to argue with each other, that’s your business. If you want to argue with me, I’m not sorry in advance.

Addition to the above: this is not a blog in which it will be tolerated that commentators or those submitting with the URLS are targeted for callouts, shaming, or other instances of bullying. No, I cannot make those people stop bothering you by blocking them, but the least I can do is address that by shutting down their access to this blog and it’s posts by blocking on the URLs I have for them. And I will. Fuck that “we can’t be responsible for” shit. It’s my blog, it’s my content I’m putting out there, I’m not going to just ignore shit like what went down over on COAR, thanks. Not. Cool.

This is definitely not a place for:

people who think giving muses labels, including top/bottom “dynamics,” is a good substitute for character traits, personality, and development

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people who are going to tack onto my posts shit like, “it’s okay, OP, you can say x character.” Trust me, if I were talking about one character, I fucking would name drop them, don’t bring me into your fandom drama, I doubt I know or want to know who that anime guy is who looks like 12 other anime guys to me.

About Vespertine

You can call me that, Vespertine. I’d rather you didn’t go with Vesper, but as it is unfortunately so likely to happen, I won’t feed you to the dogs over it either. RPB Mun is also acceptable.

I’m alright with either she/her or he/him, they/them is also fine. Apparently, that was big enough clue-in for the poor reading comp crowd, so while I feel it is not of importance, I’m nonbinary, yes.

Late 30′s, chronically ill but still working adult with neurodivergence. I’m both busy and Busy, and always sick. This limits my brain power and ability to be here. I have an active RP blog that I won’t be sharing to keep responsible distance. That is always going to be my priority, it is my primary hobby.

Please, don’t tumblr message me totally random things if we don’t have that kind of relationship! I’m too ill and busy, and it really fucks my nerves to have a bunch of messages/have to suddenly interact socially with people. Don’t do it. Use my inbox, use the submit, comment on posts. I cannot do random messages of “hey” and so forth.

I only do written RP, don’t expect me to understand much of anything from tabletop. I’ve RPed for the last 23 years consistently, on every platform from AOL chats to forums to messengers and here. I also don’t do RP in discord, so I’m sorry, but I can’t advise you much on anything with a word count, except to stop it for serious RP. Other than that, I promise you that I’ve seen the trends, the drama, the fandoms. I can give a lot of advice and perspective on a wide range of topics, situations, and characters! When I don’t have a clue at all, I’ll try to do enough research to give you an answer.

Do I come off as a horrible, strict asshole? I do! I’m not going to say that I am just a shy bean who is more scared of you than you are me. I’m not. I’m honestly feral, but have common decency, compassion, and sense. All of which are lacking in the general RPC. So, if you can inbox/common/otherwise interact with anyone else on this site, you can totally handle me!

Honesty and openness are policies.

And in the spirit of that, I repeat; you can fucking do better, tumblr RPC!

[oureuphoria]

Worst of You - JJK 02

You meet him under horrible circumstances but that doesn’t stop you from developing a very abnormal and completely unsolicited crush on your local hot police officer™. Too bad you have a bitch of a best friend, anxiety and an inability to learn from your mistakes which cripples your chances to be with the man of your literal dreams. Oh, and he has a lifetime’s worth of emotional baggage at 23.

Or

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong.” “Cool, I’ll let everyone know that you’re moving in then.”

Genre: fluff, angst, comedy

Pairing: officer!jungkook X collegestudent!reader

Word count: 2,083

Note: I am actually not American so if I depict the American school system, police system or any system incorrectly then I am really sorry!

| 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 |

You awaken from your not-so-graceful sleep only to see that it was 1:50pm and you had overslept. Oversleeping was very a common thing for you because you often forgot to set your alarms. You’ve trained your body to wake up at specific times from your unchanging routine which is why you were awake, minutes before your meeting with the goddamn Officer and very much not ready. You rushed out of bed with so much force that your self-induced blanket burrito rolled out onto the floor where you laid limply, regretting the brute force you had gotten up with. However, you didn’t learn anything from your mistake and continued with that same force towards the bathroom only to hit your bathroom door square in the face. 

You made it on time, looking somewhat presentable (you tried your best in the compressed time limit). Alex offered you a ride which helped unbelievably because you were incredibly late. You speed-walked to the front counter wand asked the secretary where to go. She looks at you plainly and before replying with much annoyance. “Officer Jeon instructed me to refer a message to you. The perpetrator confessed to the crime late last night and the case has been closed, we will no longer been needing your time.” Oh. Your heart began to sting a little at the realisation that you will never see the officer again but the realisation that you were free overpowered the pain. You smiled while walking towards the door but your happiness was short-lived. You spotted the attacker, hand-cuffed. You locked eyes for the second time although they seemed a lot less manic. 

He didn’t recognise you, that was clear enough but you knew you’d never be able to forget him and that thought scared you. Enough so to leave you frozen in the middle of the station. You stood there for what felt like an eternity before an officer shook your shoulder. “Are you okay?” You didn’t really look at her before nodding, a smile on your face as you thanked her a sped out of the building. You walked back to your dorm with only one thought on your mind. 

_______________________________________________

Morning classes were a bore and you often found yourself reciting the entire script of a movie instead of writing notes. You looked concentrated and teachers never noticed so it never really harmed anyone, except your GPA of course. It had been just over 2 weeks since you became the hottest news on campus and it blew over quite quickly. The buzz was bound to return though because the student who was attacked, William, was set to return to school that day. 

You were fired from your job at the store (because apparently hiring college students was problematic) which meant you had to spend your weekend tutoring privileged high schoolers instead. It was a Tuesday and you were at lunch when William approached you with a light tap on your shoulder, you removed your earphones from your ear and turned to face him but the moment your eyes landed on his face you could feel your lunch creeping back up. 

You were too scared to approach him yourself so you left a get-well-soon card and a teddy bear for him at the hospital which you assumed was why he was there. “I just wanted to thank you for that night, who knows what would’ve happened if you didn’t call the police when you did.” You smiled but it was half-hearted. Your mind was filled with a quiet chant of ‘it should’ve been me’ every time you saw his face. “Honestly, it’s fine, I’m glad you’re okay.” You awkwardly gestured a thumbs up which was meant to be reassuring before you put your earphone back in and went back to your sandwich. Trying to shut up before you embarrassed yourself further ended quickly when he tapped your shoulder lightly again. 

“I’m sorry to bother you again but I was kind of wondering, did you know him? You know the student who…” “No, sorry I didn’t.” You answered quickly because you wanted the conversation to be over as soon as possible but you might’ve come off as rude. You noticed a glint sadness in his eye, a need for closure, a need to know he did nothing wrong. “I don’t think he had a motive for doing what he did to you though. From what I know, you’re a nice guy, I mean your hospital room had flowers everywhere.” He chuckled a little before furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. 

“You visited?” It was just then that you remembered that you had forgotten to sign the card. “Oh! Yes, I left a bear there it was pink, kind of ugly but it was the best thing the gift shop had. It was either that or a Giraffe that said ‘it’s a boy!’” You were rambling, you knew that much but you couldn’t stop yourself if you tried. “Thank you, for everything…” “Y/N.” “Right, Y/N. Maybe we can get coffee sometime or something?” You gulped while in deep thought, you weren’t sure if you could ever make it up to him but you were willing to try. “Sure!”

Once he left, you stared back at your deflated peanut butter sandwich before poking at the stale bread. “Ah, fuck it.” You threw away your crusty sandwich and walked to the nearby cafe which you often avoided like the plague during lunch hours because it was bustling with students. That day was an exception, you needed carbs and you needed them stat. You walked into the cafe, ready to order cheesy fries when you saw him. Officer Jeon. You cursed under your breath and allowed yourself to stare a little. You knew officers often came here since it was around the station but you had never seen him there. 

You were waiting in line while he sat down with 2 of his co-workers. You watched them pick up the menus and discuss what they wanted to eat. You were invested in staring until a loud voice startled you. “Next waiting.” That was your cue and you almost missed it staring at the Officer with obvious heart eyes. You held the little table number concoction in your hand as you made your way to sit in the far corner seat where you always sat. But you didn’t go as unnoticed as usual. The incident was still fresh news for the a few students even though it had been 2 weeks. Some students thought you were a hero while others remain confused because “does she even go here?” But the majority never really cared about you but stared anyway because that was the way society worked. You sat and slowly retracted into a small ball of dismal anxiety while you waited for your cheesy fries to arrive. 

���Hey isn’t that the awkward kid that you questioned, Jeon?” The officer parallel to him asks loudly, clearly pointing at you which made you retract into the corner even further. “Oh yeah I saw her at the station, poor thing she looked so helpless.” To make matters worse, the woman next to him was the one who checked on you at the station. To top off the embarrassment, Officer Jeon turned around to look at you right when you accidentally smashed your toe on the edge of the table while trying to grab your bag. You winced and chanted “ow, ow, ow, ow,” until you abruptly stopped after realising you were being watched by 3 amused officers. 

You managed a small smile and a wave before you grabbed your laptop from your bag and tried to distract yourself from the major discomfort you had endured. Everything went well for a collective amount of 37 seconds before the man you found intimidatingly attractive sat on the seat opposite yours. You peeked over your laptop a little because for some reason you believed that if you couldn’t see him, he couldn’t see you. However, his tall physique allowed him to clearly see you crouched behind the laptop screen. “Hey.” You feigned a smile and pretended to not be completely disturbed by his presence. “Hi.” You squeaked back before internally slapping yourself for sounding so timid but unfortunately your handbook on social interactions seemed to lack a chapter that covered ‘how to talk to attractive police officers who you are low key crushing on but can never be with for longer than 2 seconds without combusting into a nervous mess’. 

“How’s everything going? I heard you visited the station looking a little scared.” You chuckled nervously, your laugh becoming slower and slower before dissipating into an awkward silence. “You see, that wasn’t me that was just someone who happened to look a lot like me. You know, me and my common face.” These were moments you wished you could forget because your communication skills were frankly astonishing. However, instead of worrying over your inability to make small talk, he laughed. Officer Jeon laughed at something you said and it was super fucking cute. 

“You know Y/N, you’re really…unique?” You held back a snort as you laughed under your breath. “You seem so shy and timid but you looked like you were going to bite my head off at the station.” You started violently chugging your water down, this time for far too long because you didn’t want to reply. “Well, you see I was very…dehydrated? And you know what dehydration can do to someone.” You were never a very good liar which proved to be an important skill in times like such. 

He curved his eyebrow at you questioningly but didn’t care to press further, soon after the waiter came with your cheesy fires. You thought it would be rude to eat in front of him so you just stared at the bowl quietly. “Aren’t you going to eat?” “Yeah I was just waiting for it to cool down.” You awkwardly crouched to slowly blow on your cheesy fries which just made him stare at you amusingly. “You’re a weird kid, Y/N. I’ll get going now, it was nice catching up.” You nodded before William crossed your mind. You lunged forward to tug on his sleeve to stop him from leaving. “Wait, do you think you could um, tell me what happened with the case?” “Meet me here tomorrow at 5 and I’ll tell you what I can.” And with that, he left. 

“And thEN HE LEAVES, HE JUST LEAVES ALEX, DOESN’T EVEN GIVE ME HIS NUMBER, OR EVEN HIS FIRST NAME?!?” You angrily protested to your friend who was more interested in her phone than the conversation. “Hey, Alex, are you even listening?” Your question fell on unhearing ears so you yelled again to catch her attention. “Alex!” “What?” She replied, a little annoyed but she didn’t push further at the sight of your glare. “I’m sure he was just leaving then because he had to, you know, special police business or something. I bet he’s into you, you’re adorable.” She ruffled the top of your head and you smiled bitterly. Compliments from Alex were normally out of pity and she had a lot to pity you for. She was prettier than you, nicer than you and uncannily good at socialising. This generally meant that whatever boy you were into, was into her. 

“Is he really that cute? I need to meet him.” “No! I mean, I don’t even know his name, it’s not important. Don’t waste your time.” Your abrupt exclamation made you feel a little guilty. You’d never voiced your insecurities with Alex and yet you held her completely accountable which was entirely unfair. “Oh, alright. So, what movie are we watching tonight?” Her attention was trained on her phone again as she asked the question. She looked up at you suddenly with pleading eyes and you knew exactly what she wanted. “Just go.” You waved her off with your hand and she didn’t hesitate before leaving you to go to her room. You allowed yourself to melt into the couch as you moped over spending another Friday night alone again. “Wait, Alex! Can I come with you?”

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

"Get your fingers off my phone."

(OOC: Somehow, I wrote goofy little responses for the other asks, but this turned into an angsty, dark ficlet.  Also a bit long!  Sorry, I’ll go back to silliness next time.) 

“You want me to dial with my dick, Shaw? Would that be better?” Pyro snarled, blinking dust and sweat out of his eyes.  “We need an extraction, and this is the fastest way.”  

Pyro’s own phone was smashed beyond repair, but somehow Sebastian’s was intact, even if the man himself….wasn’t.

The mission had gone very, very wrong.  Being buried in the basement of a collapsed building would not have been a problem, if those Verendi fucks hadn’t zapped the two of them with temporary power dampeners.  At least, Pyro assured himself it was temporary.  There were no intelligence reports that the humans had found a way to make it permanent, so he ignored the tiny doubts gnawing at the back of his mind.

Shaw had taken the brunt of it, and was lying face up under massive pile of concrete, his breathing labored, a thin trickle of blood running down his cheek.  Pyro himself had been mostly untouched by the debris crashing down on them, something he assumed was mostly luck, and not any protective instinct on Shaw’s part. Shaw probably would have used Pyro as a shield if he’d had the time.  

“Water…” Sebastian gasped.  Pyro looked up, surprised to hear the other man beg for anything…then realized that Sebastian was not begging, he was simply stating fact. A thin layer of water was flowing around his boots, spreading across the floor.  Must be a burst pipe or three.

“Well, that’s just bloody wonderful,” Pyro groaned, punching numbers into the phone.  Haven or Madelyne were the best bets, but of course the connection was absolute shit. He tried again and again, until someone picked up the other line.  There was too much static to know who he was talking to, but he yelled the details anyway. Verendi soldiers in large numbers, power-dampeners, trapped under tons of rock.  The team would need to be careful coming to get them, and for fucks sake leave Haven safe on the boat.  He wondered if any of it was getting through.

“Just…text…..idiot,” Sebastian croaked, and Pyro clutched the phone tight in a sudden fury.  Of course the horrible old bastard was right, and that made it even worse.  

“I was just going to try that, Shaw,” Pyro snapped, quickly tapping out a message to the others.  He probably would have thought of that, he wasn’t a complete moron.  He shot the message off into the void, wondering what steps he could take next. It was suddenly very important to come up with a plan before Shaw condescended to him again.

Pyro realized that the water was up over his feet now, lapping at his ankles, and looked over where Shaw was pinned flat against the floor.  His face barely breached the surface, poking up out of the water like a very ugly mermaid.

“Aww, fuck.”  Pyro made his way over, and lifted Sebastian’s head up out of the water, supporting it with his hands.  He wasn’t sure why.  No, he knew why.  Because Haven would be disappointed if he didn’t do everything he could to save Shaw. Because she would look at him differently – her, and Madelyne, and maybe even Shinobi.

“Don’t….bother….” Shaw ground out between gritted, blood-stained teeth.  “Temporary solution….at best….”

“Maybe we can…set up some kind of breathing tube for you.”  Pyro looked doubtfully at the tubes connecting his flame-thrower to his wrist. He wasn’t an engineer, but it seemed like it would do in a pinch.  Moving the concrete was not an option.  It seemed as though half the building was resting on Shaw.

“Foolish….optimism…..thought better of you….Allerdyce….”

“I really cannot imagine a situation in which you think anything good about me, Shaw,” Pyro quipped.  

“We both know….how this….will end….”  Sebastian choked for a moment, and a spurt of dark blood gushed over his chin.

Even with his powers, the weight of the rubble might have given Sebastian some difficulty.  Without his powers…it was a wonder he was even still alive.

“Let….go….” Sebastian commanded.  “Don’t….draw this out……”

Still, Pyro hesitated, imagining the sadness in Haven’s eyes when they found him alive and Shaw dead.  Would she look at him accusingly, or would she just shake her head and sigh?  

“Let go….imbecile…..don’t need….your help…..death preferable…”

“Well, fine!” Pyro exclaimed, letting Sebsatian’s head drop back under the rapidly rising water.  “Drown, ya stubborn ass, ya fucking well deserve it!  Don’t think I’m sorry ta see ya go!”  

For a long moment, Sebastian lay motionless, eyes closed under the surface, bubbles pouring out of his mouth and nose.  Then, his body jerked slightly as he took a reflexive breath.  No matter how stoic Shaw pretended to be, he couldn’t fight his body’s survival instincts. His torso convulsed as another breath sucked water into his lungs, his eyes squeezed shut.    

Pyro grinned down at him.  It felt good watching a man like that die.  It was a nasty kind of good, the same way he felt sending a wall of fire at human soldiers that were trying to kill him and anyone like him.  No matter how the moralizers might try to deny it, there was a real enjoyment in watching a piece of shit get what they deserved. It was just human nature.  Or mutant nature.  Whatever.

It didn’t take long, and soon Sebastian was still again.

“All right then, dickhead.  You can’t say I didn’t try.”  He just wished he’d thought to record it for Shinobi.

Time passed, and the water was up to Pyro’s chest.  The ceiling wasn’t far above his head, and he held the phone aloft in one hand.  They’d be able to track his location through the GPS, as long as the damn thing didn’t die on him. 

Sebastian had disappeared from view entirely.  For a while his face had lingered, a pale oval just below the surface, but the water was deep and dark.  Pyro had explored the room, searching for something, anything that could get him out – some hidden opening, or metal the he might be able to melt though.  His powers had come back with an exhilarating rush, but fire couldn’t do shit against a tomb of rock.  

He supposed the stupid X-Men would have found a way out, they probably would have figured out some fancy, complicated way of combining their powers.  The Brotherhood had never been all that good at teamwork, but at least they’d had Dominic. Dominic would sort this mess right out if he were here.  

Pyro fantasized about Dominic ripping open a path to the surface and pulling him up, then carrying him off to a fancy resort to spend an entire week eating, drinking and fucking.  He ignited a small flame and let it float around the room, in the form of a bird, a butterfly, a small cat scampering across the surface of the water.  Anything to take his mind off the cold soaking into his bones as the water continued to rise.  Lighting himself on fire wouldn’t really help with that, given how much of him was submerged.

He didn’t look at the corner, where Sebastian lay in the depths.  The delightfully nasty feeling of satisfaction and schadenfreude had faded, leaving a hollow sensation in its place.  Pyro tried not to think about the water closing over his own head, how he would jerk and convulse just like Shaw, clawing at the unforgiving ceiling.  He tried not to think about the sense of panic coiling up inside him.  He didn’t really want to die like this, trapped in the cold and the dark.  It was better than the Legacy Virus for sure, but it was still creeping up on him, slow and inevitable.  

He wondered, for a moment, who would enjoy watching his own death.  Was he also getting what he deserved?  When the water came up to his neck, would a strong hand wrap around his ankle and pull him down?

Instead, the hand came down from the ceiling.  Pyro blinked at it for a moment, wondering if he was hallucinating, then Shinobi’s head popped into view, ghostly and translucent.

“There you are!” Shinobi exclaimed.  “How’s this for a rescue?  Wow, you’re turning blue.”

“D-don’t exactly do w-well in the cold,” Pyro stammered, teeth chattering.  He was a scrawny man from a hot climate, he wasn’t meant for this bullshit.  

“Where’s Father?”  

“Over there.”  Pyro gestured towards the corner.  “He’s…..uh….he’s under the w-water.  He d-didn’t make it, I’m afraid.”

For a moment a shadow passed over Shinobi’s face as he looked over.  Then he brightened again.

“Well, good!  We’ll get a long break from him on the way back to Krakoa.  Just imagine all the partying we can do without him looming over us.”

“Oh, I c-can imagine.”

Pyro grabbed Shinobi’s hand, feeling the odd tingly sensation as his body became intangible.  Then Shinobi pulled him up, through the layers of shattered concrete, out into the sunlight.

[marshmallowprotection]

I have a really specific request. If its alright, could you write the choi twins reacting to an mc that goes nonverbal when shes really stressed, but hides it? Like shes had bad reactions to it to the point that she cant even bring it up, cause trying to stresses her out enough to make her go nonverbal. But she doesnt want them to think shes ignoring them, so if they try to talk to her she just leans up against them if shes nonverbal, so shes not answering but not ignoring them.

Here comes the good boys here comes fhe good boys

SEVEN

Saeyoung knew that you had your own personal struggles and that at times it could be very difficult for you to cope with your fears and anxiety. 

He understood that you had limits and he never pushed you or tried to make you talk to him about it because he wanted you to open up to him on your terms and nobody else's. You had been so patient with him and he wanted to be patient with you as long as it would take. 

Now, he did hold your hand when your brows furthered and your legs started to tremble. The way your lips sucked under your teeth and the way you fixated on one spot of the room and forgot to take a breath at all. 

He knew the signs, but he wasn't always able to provide what you needed. You hid the extent of your anxiety and fears so much that he wasn't even aware of how bad it truly was for you.

He knew you had it hard but what he didn't know was how badly you felt when you got overwhelmed. You often just clutched at him and he let you cry it out while he held you close. You didn't have to say it for him to understand your problems or what bothered you so much. 

He just… got it. He understood and he let you do what you needed to do to cope with the issue. It went without saying that you loved him for not judging you or trying to make a fuss out of it. 

You just didn't want to bother him. 

You didn't want to make him think you were helpless. 

You didn't want to let him know you were a walking ball of stress. 

It was… hard. 

This was how you had been your entire life so you didn't know a life without this debilitating anxiety that made you feel like you were going to choke. 

It was even worse when he started to focus on Saeran's personal and needed recovery because he was spending so many hours away from you. He was the one thing that let you almost feel like you could keep it together for once. 

You understood how important it was that the two of them be able to work out their issues and grow from their trauma together so you didn't bother Saeyoung apart from messaging him to cheer him on in his battle. 

When he was there with you, you almost felt secure in this world; But, without Saeyoung, you fell back to old worries and fears with nowhere else to go. 

You isolated yourself most of that time that you could and prayed that he and the others would eventually come back around. It just got so bad one day that you found yourself sitting at your table with your hands pressed to it and your breathing uneven. What was so frustrating about it was that this was the first morning in weeks that you had been able to spend time with your boyfriend, and here you were struck by your dread. 

It only gave a moment's notice before it would overtake you and control you, and once it hit, you could do nothing but wait for it to pass. 

Saeyoung didn't notice at first, he was talking about what he had been up to but you were struggling to focus on the words meaning. He had so much he wanted to catch you up on but you sincerely could not focus. 

Your throat felt incredibly tight and dry and your digits were trembling.

The most that you could muster was a pained breath to fill your lungs with much-needed oxygen. 

You had just enough in you to reach out for him and grip his hand. It was tight, tighter than you normally would hold him. That was when he noticed. He squeezed your hand back as if to say that he was there for you. 

"Can't speak?" he prompted, gently. 

You managed a nod of your head but it was almost non-existent. 

His golden eyes were filled with warmth and compassion, "That's okay, 606, I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to stay here with you no matter how long it lasts. You're safe. Take a deep breath with me, okay?" 

You listened to his instructions and hung on every word.

You couldn't always communicate what you needed with him directly. That's why he always asked for confirmation or waited for you to text him what was wrong. You swapped between the two depending on how bad you were having a fit. 

"It must have been very tough by yourself. I'm sorry I wasn't able to be here for you all the time. But, I'm going to be here now and I promise you that I'll stay with you as long as you want me here." 

He would never truly know how much you loved him. 

You could not put into words what it meant to have somebody as gentle and sweet as him in your life. 

SAERAN

You and Saeran were as close as two peas in a pod. You clung to him and he clung to you for support. There was a system that you both worked on together and a lot of care went into making sure that the both of you were well cared for and working towards coping with your issues. 

You each had your own set of triggers and long-lasting states of prolonged anxiety. He knew right off of the bat when he learned about you that you had similar pains close to his own. 

He hated to think that you struggled in any sense of the word because he wanted to build a paradise for you that would exist without pain. Both he and Ray had wanted what they thought was best for you but they could now say they should have known better then to assume. They should have just asked you. 

That hadn't gone exactly as planned but now he was just grateful that you let him stay in your life and be with you after all of that went horribly wrong. 

You had seen him at his lowest point and he had seen you pushed to the brink of what held you together, and it… was hard to think about, even now. 

When he had tormented you back in Magenta, you often would go nonverbal and shed your tears without prompting his desired reactions. He thought you were taunting him but it didn't occur to him that it was actually your anxiety that had caused you to do that. He had wrongly assumed you were playing games with him and it got that much harder for you. 

No amount of apologies would ever make up for that, he knew. 

Even Ray had pushed too close to your edge with some of his pressing. His desires were more specific and his emotions blurred into yours so much that his anxiety fits burst yours wide open not long after. Empathy was a hell of a thing. 

You two had so much in common that it was wild at times to think that you were lucky enough to find one another and have somebody who understood what it really felt like to be trapped at your low without much to help it. 

For you, you loved him so very dearly but there were times when you had your bad days and they blurred with some of his own bad moments. Those days were the hardest to cope with. You both were doing your best and that's what mattered. It wasn't always easy.

But, Saeran was there and he wasn't leaving. 

You knew what was best for him on a bad day. He needed quiet, peace, and a lot of hugs and tactile feelings. He did his best to help you when it got bad. He needed to coax, touch, and whisper sweet reminders into your ears that it would all be okay. It was a system that took time to learn and grow with. 

Today was a hard day for you. 

You and Saeran were sitting together on the couch just letting a movie play on the television in the background while you chatted about this and that. There had been a lot of work going on with the team at C&R; Saeran was in charge of them all and he was still floored and amazed at how he had wound up where he had. 

You were proud of him.

But at the same time, dread fulled your gut. 

You were worried for his safety and every time he left the house without you, your stomach would knot and you would have the feeling of panic take over you. It had gotten to a point where you were now feeling the after effects of it, and you stopped mid-sentence, clenching your teeth. 

Saeran knew right off the bat what was wrong. Your shoulders were tight and your fingers were trembling against his leg. He wrapped an arm around you to give you a bit of pressure and sensation back that might have been robbed by the anxiety. 

When he felt badly, he would lose feeling in parts of his body so he always did what you did for him back. 

"Breathe," he murmured, gently. "You don't have to speak anymore. I understand. Don't make yourself." 

You nodded your head and tucked yourself into his embrace as deep as you could cocoon yourself into it. It wasn't much but it was damn sure enough to make you feel safer, Saeran was here and he wasn't going anywhere. 

His lips pressed against the top of your head, "I'm sorry. I didn't know it had gotten this difficult… let's try to sit this one out till it's over and then I'll help you get into bed. Just hang on, okay? We can get through this." 

You didn't know what you would do without this man. 

[minsyal]

Stan83, [Sam x Reader]

Word Count: 6k

Summary: The life of a hunters assistant wasn’t easy, especially when two of them come knocking on your door posing as Agents investigating the recent deaths in the area.

Warnings: General SPN stuff, nothing crazy

This was the third time you had woken in the middle of the night. This was the third time you had jolted upward in bed only to find an empty room and unsettling feeling falling to the pit of your stomach. This was the third time you had searched your home in the dark of night with an old metal baseball bat that you kept beneath your bed. This was the third time you had found countless open windows with no recollection of leaving them so. This was the third time you had come to the conclusion that nobody was here. It was just you.

It was later than usual, or perhaps simply earlier in the morning. The clock on your bedside table blinked on and off in big red numbers “4:45 AM.” Your job wasn’t exactly a nine to five with a set lunch break and mandatory stopping points throughout the day. You were an on-call, entirely electronic, assistant to the vast grapevine of hunters that so chose to reach out. Who they were didn’t matter to you. For all you knew, you were telling vampires how to kill one another and witches where to find the ingredients they needed for an unsuspecting ghoul.

The tradition passed through generations of your family, from grandfather to father and now to you. Your father had decided he wanted more thrill in his life; he didn’t want to be tied down to his computer desk for the rest of eternity. That decision led to hunting, and within months he had passed. Your mother, on the other hand, was a runaway. She abandoned the family as soon as she learned of your father’s secret life.

Ice crept from the old, cracked tiles of your kitchen. Fall’s spiny fingers had wretched themselves from the ground and were now climbing your legs, sending chills up your spine. The tiles weren’t helping much. They hadn’t seen white in years and were now permanently stained what you preferred to call cream. Going bad to bed, while the best outcome of the night, was no use as your phone and computer lit up with five new notifications all from “Stan83.”

Hey, crazy story. Need your help.

Hunting – little to no details – marks on victims

You there?

It can wait if you’re busy.

Sorry if this wakes you up.

Stan83 had quickly become one of your favorite hunters to converse with. He, you assumed, was in his late twenties to early thirties based on the “83” in his name. He had told you little to no information about himself other than the fact that he hunted with his brother and moved all over the country. Your conversations were more casual: what did you have for lunch, what are you hunting today, what type of music do you like, what’s up. The simple things. A few conversations spiraled. It was rare for them to happen. Only when big things happened and Stan83 had no one else to talk to would he pick up the phone and send a text.

Picking your mug up from the counter, you flicked the kitchen light off and started for your room where you’d likely spend the rest of the day. Your desk was a mess. Books littered the surface opened to all sorts of weird information that anyone would have you locked in an institution for. Scribbled notes were pinned up on your wall that detailed the whereabouts of those you spoke with. If they didn’t contact you for about a month, you’d contact them.

You didn’t wake me up. You responded, waiting for only a moment before a small text bubble popped up indicating that the person on the other side was typing.

You sure? It’s 5:00am. Stan83 answered. It was easy to imagine the tone he used, a little sarcastic, a little smug.

That wasn’t you. It was the nightmares. It’s 5 for you too? Finally taking a spin in the BEST time zone, huh?

The best time zone that spans about 600 miles?

Ok, sass me then. What’s up?

Weird hunt. Women in this town are dying at a pretty fast rate. Their children are acting strange. Weird marks on their necks are making fathers think they’re cheating.

I’ll take a look through what I have and get back to you.

Thank you Sav!

Sav, your own nick. It was the easiest to think of on the spot when your old system had gone kaput and you needed to as quickly as possible set up a new database and communication network. It’s short for saver, or savior, or whatever the hell these hunters wanted to believe. Maybe it meant savvy but given the state of your home and wardrobe you wouldn’t put money on that.

The rest of the morning consisted of research. Each lore book and journal your father left behind was thoroughly scanned through with big yellow sticky notes marking the pages that held possible leads. With your luck, you’d be able to message Stan83 back by noon with possibilities. That is, you would have been able to message Stan83 back if your doorbell hadn’t rung 13 times in a row at an alarming rate.

You passed by the entry hall warily. Nobody in this town really knew you, and you didn’t care to know them either. The only people who dared step foot on your property were usually city officials complaining of the broken window on your small garage or political campaigners who were being paid to pester and harp on people for votes.

The figures beyond were large, looming even. Two dark shadows were cast over your frosted-glass door and you watched as the shorter of the two raised his hand once more to ring the bell another five times. “I’m coming!” You finally yelled back, turning quickly to the mirror in your hall that held no particular purpose, but it was supposedly your mothers. You looked awful. If the garage hadn’t scared off whoever stood beyond your home’s threshold, your physical appearance definitely would.

Loose hairs fell from the messy, slept-in ponytail that hung lazily and lopsided at the back of your head. Your skin was flushed from the lack of breakfast, and now lunch as you had lost track of time attempting to help one of your favorite hunters. The shirt you wore was luckily clean, but the sweatpants had small holes from where they had caught on the kitchen counter and torn.

“What can I do for you?” You asked without bothering to look at the two men standing on your front porch. Nobody knew of your “hunting” life, so there was a slim to no possibility of any real threat coming to your door. Unless, of course, these were tax collectors coming to repossess something for another unpaid credit card.

The shorter of the two men spoke “Agent Stark,” he quickly flashed an ID, “Banner,” he motioned to the taller man beside him, “we’re here to investigate the deaths of a few of your neighbors. Do you mind if we come in?”

You took a moment, Stark and Banner, really? “Let me get a look at that ID.” You nodded your head in the direction of his coat pocket where he had neatly tucked the leather protected card. Agent Banner acted faster. “Here.”

Banner, or whoever this was, was far taller than the man who self-identified himself as Tony Stark. He had the classic triangle shape to his body, broad shoulders, slim waist. His hair was formally tucked back from his face, but strands kept falling from his ears as he shifted from foot to foot waiting for your determination. Mr. Stark was shorter, but still a giant none-the-less. He had a finely set jaw, green eyes, and a short business-cut style to his hair.

“Mr. Banner.” You pressed your lips together. The ID was awful. The leather was fake, scratched and worn from what you guessed to be a few uses. “Where’d you get this ID?” Twisting it in your hand, you offered it back to him.

“The Federal Bureau of Investigation, ma’m.” He replied smoothly, not showing how his heart rate picked up at your questioning of their identities.

“In some back alley?” You shrugged. “At least choose realistic names next time.”

“Look.” Agent Stark stiffened as he crossed his arms over his chest. Agent Banner immediately went wide-eyed and motioned for him to stop whatever he was about to do. “We’re here to investigate your neighbor’s deaths. Do you want to do this the easy way or the hard way?”  

Waiting a moment, you held your grip on the door, willing it to close any second. “You got guns on you?” An eyebrow raise from Agent Stark confirmed your suspicions.

“Leave them in your little muscle car over there.” You peered between them at the black Impala parked on the road. It was pristine, well taken care of, clearly waxed recently. “Then come back and we can talk.”

Hunters, while difficult to talk to online, are insufferable in person. These big meat heads always want to get their way. They never relent and admit they’re wrong or they’ve been caught. So, when the two nodded and began off your doorstep toward the car, you were taken aback.

Both unloaded two guns from their waistbands. “Other weapons too!” You yelled from the step. Agent Stark grumbled something inaudible as Agent Banner seemed to soothe him.

Why are all you hunters so horrible? You typed into your phone, smiling as you pressed send and immediately saw Stan83 typing back.

What happened this time?

Real hunters interrupting my work! I think I got you guys some leads though. Will tell you later. Gotta deal with these bozos.

Bozos? Really?

Guess I inherited my father’s vocabulary too.

“Alright, Iron Man and the Incredible Hulk.” You were perched upon the arm of one of your recliners, arms crossed over your chest as you eyed the two men looking out of place in your small living room. “You’re hunters, I know. Real names?”

“I’m Sam.” The taller of the two said, being stopped with an arm over his chest from the shorter one. “What?” He shook his head. “She obviously knows…”

“Too much.” The shorter one said. “Who are you?”

“Nobody important.”

“Important enough to know what hunting is.”

“[Y/N.]” You replied, shifting in your seat. “Ok, your turn.”

“Dean.”

“Last names?”

“Confidential.”

“Mhm.” You hummed, really uncaring of their last names but trying to pry anyway. Sam tilted his head, looking around the house. “What do you think you’re hunting?”

“Aren’t sure yet.” Sam piped up, snapping his attention back to you. “Have you been keeping up with the news here lately?”

“I rarely leave this place. I don’t even know my neighbors.”

“We can tell.” Dean chimed in earning himself a heavy elbow to the gut. Sam shot him a dirty look before turning back to you. “A couple of women have died. Their husbands think they’re cheating on them, but after they pass their children disappear too.”

“Sounds like a changeling.”

“Told you.” Dean commented, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back on the couch.

“Grab some matches and go crazy.” You pushed yourself up from your chair. “Wait here a second.” Escaping to the back hall, you returned to your desk and began to gather a few things about changelings that you had read this morning.

I think we figured it out. A message stopped you from returning to Sam and Dean. It was Stan83.

No, wait I figured it out first.

Why didn’t you tell me, then?

Because I like keeping secrets from you.

“Hurry up back there, will you?” Dean’s voice called from the living room.

“Hold your horses.”

“My what?” You heard Dean whisper to Sam who either didn’t respond or responded quietly. “Dude would you get off your phone?”

“Here. A couple pages in this should help. I’d loan them to you, but I’m not sure I’d get them back.” The books landed on the coffee table in front of the two. Dean began palming through the contents while Sam sat glued to his phone, typing something quickly.

“Did you not listen to me a second ago?” Dean bickered. “Phone, off. Hunt, now.”

Sam pressed something speedily, closing his phone before pocketing it out of sight. Your phone in your own pocket buzzed, causing you and Sam to stop. Dean hadn’t noticed, he was enthralled in the journal you had presented to him. “Where’d you get this?” He asked, not looking away from the page.

“Grandfather had it.” You began to pull your phone out of your pocket. “He passed it down from one of his hunting buddies to my father and now to me.”

Secrets are supposed to be for crushes and broken plates, not things that are killing people.

Oops! You typed back slowly, eyeing Sam who was doing the same. When you hit send a notification rang from his pocket causing Dean to groan.

“Stan83?” The words scrambled from your lips before your tongue had time to catch them. Dean snorted as he shook his head and flipped the journal’s page.

“Sav?” Sam replied as Dean gave yet another snort, this time accompanied by a head shake. “Are we still bozos?”

“You called us bozos?” Dean chuckled.

~~*~~

Sam is Stan83. You’re Sav. That much you can say for sure. After the initial shock of it all, you quickly mellowed out and fled to the back room to gather the materials you were saving to message Stan83 with. Turns out, you had just saved yourself an hour of typing.

Stan83 was far different from Sam. Stan83 presented himself as a somewhat sarcastic, confident, flirtatious man while Sam sat much smaller despite his frame. He was clumsy and nervous, stumbling over a few of his words before catching himself as he went full speed down a hill. When he had attempted to describe what he looked like, he was being modest. He said he was tall, had an average build, brown hair, and liked to run. You had assumed he was skinnier and less muscle.

Sam blushed at each comment you made concerning your conversations online; you could never imagine Stan83 to be a blusher. He was so different, yet so similar. In a way, it was endearing.

“So, it’s targeting women on this block?” You frowned; your hand outstretched to Dean as he accepted the coffee you had just made. “Good thing I’ve got no kids.” You joked.

“That’s the thing, though.” Sam had long since discarded his blazer and was now sitting in the armchair you had initially been sitting on. “It’s targeting all women. We think there may be more than one.”

“Well, yeah. Changelings have kids.”

“No, he means more than one adult changeling.” Dean added.

“They don’t typically work together like that, though.”

“Which is why we think it’s weird.”

“So, what’s the plan?”

The two brothers waited a moment before seemingly conversing without a single audible word. Dean raised his eyebrows, eyes moving back and forth between you and Sam. Sam immediately went on the defense. “Dean, no.”

“Come on! You don’t even know what I’m thinking.” Dean pouted. He brought his now-chilled coffee up to his lips, a frown laced upon his lips as the cold bitter liquid spilled over his tongue. “Gah.” He crinkled his face up and bit his lip. “It’s a good plan.”

“What is he talking about?”

“[Y/N],” Dean began, “me and Sam, big dudes. We aren’t exactly this things cup-of-tea. It’s going after women… and you happen to be a woman…”

“You guys want to use me as bait?”

“Correction. He wants to use you as bait.” Sam added.

“I’m not really a hunter though.” You shifted in your seat. “I can’t even shoot a gun.”

“Just think about it.” Dean said. He leant over and grabbed his blazer. Throwing it over his shoulder, he motioned for Sam to do the same. “We’re staying at the motel on highway 62. If you’re up for it, feel free to uh…” he pulled a slip of paper from his pocket – a fake business card, “call us.”

“I have Sam’s number, you know?”

“Right.” Dean withdrew the card and returned it to its rightful home, tucked away in his pocket.

~~*~~

The next day came and went with no contact to either Sam or Dean. You had relented and finally turned on the local news channel. Four women in your neighborhood had passed away with their children all going missing afterward. The fathers were sending out heartfelt pleas for their children’s safe returns. One woman was considered missing and immediately seen as a suspect in the eyes of the law.

You, along with two other women, were the only ones left on the block. One was a daughter living with her single father as she finished up her college degree. The other, a widowed elderly woman living alone with her two dogs.

~~*~~

“She’s not a hunter, Dean. We can’t just expect her to drop everything she knows and jump straight into action.” Sam groaned, throwing his blazer down on the old worn couch. The motel room was as they left it. The desk’s chair was pushed out slightly, an open laptop sitting upon the cracked oak wood. Each bed was still neatly made, the two brothers hadn’t had the chance to sleep yet as they only arrived in the morning.

“All she has to do is wait around at her home while we keep an eye on the other two. Something bad happens and we run 50 feet.”

“What if 50 feet is too much? She could get hurt.”

Dean pulled his shirt over his head, adjusting the neck before accessorizing with a blue button-up. He ran his fingers through his hair, wiping the excess gel on his jeans. Sam sat on the edge of one of the beds, already changed and working away on his computer.

“Fine. Then we have to figure out something else.”

~~*~~

Changelings are awful creatures. Not just awful looking, but awful in general. They act so quietly that it’s hard to detect them before they get their first few kills. Your eyes scanned the screen before you, days since you’d spoken to the brothers. It had been two days of waiting, watching, and hoping they’d finish this hunt.

4:45AM. The clock blinked. On and off, on and off, the red numbers illuminated the room. Your routine stood, wake, check the home, and return to assisting hunters. The window was open. It had been rather nice outside lately. Fall was setting in after a grueling humid summer and you were excited to have a good excuse to stay indoors.

Sorry about the other day. The message popped up around 6, and it took you til 7 to answer.

It’s okay. Typical hunter jazz. No big deal. You responded.

Do you mind if I stop by?

With your brother? This early in the morning?

Just me. Dean’s still sleeping.

You pondered for a moment. Sure, you had been talking to Sam for years at this point, but the Sam you had come to know was so vastly different from the Sam that knocked on your door impersonating the Incredible Hulk. It had been years since you actively attempted to converse with others in person. Your social life had mostly been contained to the world of technology.

Sure, give me 30. You regretted it the moment you hit send. What were you supposed to talk to him about? “No, I don’t want to be bait, but I also don’t want to come across as an asshole who doesn’t care?”

~~*~~

Sam sat, looking comically large, in the small armchair he had taken to the last time he visited. A fresh cup of coffee was warming the palms of his hands, fighting off the cold that spilled in from the windows. You sat on the couch, across from him, mirroring his position.

“So,” you started, breaking the strained silence that fell between you, “have you guys found anything on the changelings?”

“Nothing more than what you told us, and we already knew.” Sam sipped the coffee. “Hey, I uh, do you remember what we talked about a few years ago? That promise?”

Promises were touchy subjects in hunting. Often, they were meaningless. “You mean when I promised I’d quit drinking?”

He laughed, “Close, but no.”

“When I promised I’d never get into hunting?” He nodded. “Don’t worry, Sam. Not planning on…” You closed your eyes and began to speak, but upon opening them found him with a rather pensive look. He almost looked guilty. “You want me to bait the damn thing out, huh?”

“We’re out of leads. Dean and I have been watching the block for the past few days and we have nothing.”

“You’re asking me to break my promise?”

“Just for a night.”

“What happens when I die?”

“You’ll go to heaven.” He said as if there was no question to it. “But that’s not going to happen anytime soon. When it’s over, you’re going to be okay.”

“You promise?”

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “I promise.” He brought the mug to his mouth, “and I won’t break mine like you break yours.”

“Hey!”

~~*~~

That’s how you ended up with all your doors unlocked, most of your windows parked, and a Black Impala parked a few doors down in front of an empty lot. You paced in the living room, nervous for whatever this night would hold. Sam promised you’d be okay, and you’d be damned if you didn’t hold him to that. Sam said if anything went haywire, he’d be on your doorstep in no time flat. Dean was happy to hear you had “come around” and briefed you on what you needed to do which was mostly “stay put, act normal.”

It was 12:00am when you finally moved to ready yourself for bed. Flicking off the lights, your eyes flitted from the curtains blowing slightly in the night to the computer screen that had long since gone dark. Sam and Dean were just outside, there was nothing to be nervous about. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

Settling into bed, you felt the exhaustion of the day rush through your body. Everything felt heavy. Your eyelids attempted to will themselves closed, but you pushed yourself to remain awake. Just as darkness seeped into the corners of your vision, an incessant knocking pulled you back to reality.

“[Y/N]!” It was Sam. He continued knocking incessantly, with each collision of his knuckles to the door the knock got harder. A cold wave rushed over your body as you ran to the door, a sense of dread caused your arms and legs to go limp. Had something gone wrong already? “Come on!” He called. “Change of plan. We need to get out of here.”

The door opened loudly, the handle knocking against the wall shook the thin walls of the home. Sam’s eyes were wild, he looked scared. “Sam? What the hell is going on? Did you guys catch it?”

“It got away, come on. We have to get you somewhere safe.”

You followed him through the house to the back door but stopped dead in your tracks as you passed the hall. The mirror, the one you dreaded keeping around, caught your eye. Sam gripped tightly to your hand, tugging you forward. “Come on, [Y/N]. We need to go.” He insisted, pulling you harder now.

It was like nothing you could put to words. His eyes were hollowed, where hazel once looked back at you were now pools of black. His mouth had become round with hundreds, if not thousands, of tiny pointed teeth layering downward. Its skin was tanned and discolored. It looked dry but was slimy to the touch. The face that looked back at you was not Sam’s.

Tearing your hand from its, you cringed at the tiny lacerations left from its grip. “Sam” turned to you; his face was still human. He looked confused, slowly approaching you as you moved backward.

“Sam?” You yelled, hoping the real Sam was just outside.

“[Y/N]? Are you crazy? It’s me.” The changeling said, holding its hands up in a non-threatening way.

“Like hell! Sam!” You screamed now, continually taking steps backward. “Dean?”

“Hey!” The front door, which had been closed by the changeling, burst open with more force than before. It was Dean, but like Sam something was off. He wasn’t wearing the same red button-up that he had briefed you in. His hair looked longer, his posture was different, and his eyes were hollow.

There was no time to react as the world fell dark.

~~*~~

The crack of a door closing is what finally shook you awake. The room around you was your own, an unexpected sight. What happened last night was beyond you and whether this was real or not was as well.

“[Y/N]?” Footsteps echoed down the hallway, falling closer and closer with each step. “You awake?” It was Sam’s voice. He sounded more sound, solid even. There was a slight hesitation lacing his tone, something delicate, as if he was walking around broken glass. “Hey.” He let out a breathy huff of air, hazel eyes meeting yours.

Retracting in your bed, you moved against the wall to put as much space between the two of you as possible. Your hand quickly found the base of your neck where a rim of scabbed-over skin protruded in a circular shape. Your chest constricted; your heart felt as if it was crumpling up attempting to make itself as small as possible. Sam watched as your eyes widened and he felt a pang in his chest as you retreated away from him.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he kept his body low, attempting to make himself as small as he could, “it’s me.” He mentally scolded himself for not taking precautions. “Hold on.” His held-out hand did nothing to ease your nerves. Sam returned a moment later with the mirror from the hall. It was cracked now, two large fractures split it down the middle. He positioned it against the wall opposite you and sat in front of it.

You expected the face from the night before. You expected those haunted hollow eyes, the dry scaly skin, the rounded-out mouth of razor-sharp teeth. Instead, you only saw Sam. His gaze was soft, brows drawn together. His lips parted slightly as he debated whether he should say something or not. He decided against it; you needed to be the first to act.

“It’s you.” You said, more to yourself as opposed to him. “What happened last night?”

His eyes flitted from your returning gaze in the mirror to the mark that now scarred your neck. “There were two. One was dragging you back in the woods while the other was fighting Dean. It’s dead. Dean knocked it out, took it out back, and burnt it.” Hesitantly, he moved from his position on the floor to a kneeling one in front of your bed.

“What about the other one?”

A crooked smile moved across his features. “You may need a new living room floor.”

“Is it bad?”

“If you’ve ever wanted new hard-woods, now’s the time.” He chuckled. “We’re going to stay in town another day, just to make sure everything is gone.”

~~*~~

You didn’t wake that night. The rising sun woke you along with the ding of a phone notification. It was one of your other hunters, requesting assistance on a hunt in Nevada. You stretched, feeling a dull ache in your muscles and a pop where one shouldn’t be. Slipping your phone from your nightstand, you promptly sent out a message to the other hunters in that area and discarded the technology in favor of the idea of finally sleeping in.

It was 11:00AM when you woke again. The bed was warm, a strong arm was slung over your side resting snugly against your stomach. Sounds of steady breathing filled the room; a heavy heartbeat played a calming melody in your ears.

It had been a long time since you shared a bed with anyone, but after the antics of the night before it was well-deserved. Sam didn’t offer, rather you did. You didn’t want to be alone.

“Morning.” His sleep-filled voice was smoother than his typical one. Groggily, Sam tugged you backward into his chest as he buried his face in your neck.

“Morning.” You replied, relishing in the moment you wished could last forever.

The day passed with ease. Dean had taken to the couch, insisting that the hole in the floor didn’t bother him and that he’d go out and purchase some planks to at least patch it up. Sam spent the day at your side. Most of it was spent lazily dozing, the rest was doing mundane tasks that seemed so little in comparison to what you experienced the day prior.

Sam had insisted that the effect would wear off soon. It was just some shock and trauma, he told you. It would all get better as time passed.

When the night returned along with Dean who had gone out to pick up dinner, you expected them to tell you they were heading out. But they didn’t. They chatted about nothing and everything at the same time, acting as if you had been part of the team for years. You had a lot in common with Dean, and just as much if not more with Sam. He was an intellectual, smart, kind, caring, and the softer-around-the-edges of the two.

“Hey,” Sam popped his head into your room as you readied yourself for bed, “Dean will be out on the couch. I’m going to set up on the floor out there. We’ll be here if you need anything.”

You felt something. Something sad. Your heart ached at his proclamation of staying down the hall from you. Nodding, you decided it was best. There was no reason to get attached to the boys, it’s not like they’d be coming back any time soon. You and Sam would eventually fall back into your routine of texting at all hours of the day and night and you’d become a distant memory of one of the hundreds of hunts they went on.

“Good night.”

With darkness came distortion. The pile of unlaundered clothing cast shadows across your room where shadows weren’t supposed to be. Despite the curtains being pulled taught over your window, red glowing eyes permeated the fabric and watched you for hours. It wasn’t real, you continually told yourself. It was just your mind playing tricks on you. But the tricks were cruel and holding you back from sleep.

You weren’t sure when you did finally slip into unconsciousness, but you were sure it didn’t last long. Strong hands shook you awake along with the soft coos of someone telling you it’s okay and that it’s all over now. You felt something, someone, in your bed. You laid in someone’s lap as they held your body close, rocking slowly back and forth.

“It’s just a dream.” It was Sam.

“Sam?” You felt meek, your voice mimicking that sentiment. “What happened?”

“You were screaming in your sleep.”

Feeling your face flush red, you wanted nothing more than to bury it along with the changeling in the forest beyond your yard. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” Sam felt his heart drop at the sound you made before the tears fell. “You’re okay. You’ve been through a lot.”

“A lot?” The gates held no match to the tears that shook and clambered their rusted metal bars. Your vision blurred as you closed your eyes, willing away the oncoming storm. “I hardly saw anything!”

Sam didn’t respond, only held you tighter as he pressed wordless kisses to the top of your head. “Sam, how can I even call myself a hunter if I can’t even face something as weak as a changeling?” A heavy breath fell upon your lips as you inhaled deeply. “Useless.”

“You’re not useless.”

Hushed voices woke you, arguing about something incoherent as one voice raised over the other. Sam was no longer with you, but the bed was still warm where he had spent the night.

“We’re leaving today, Sam. Nothing’s around anymore.” A muted whisper danced down the hall.

“We can’t just leave her alone now.”

“She’s safe. Changelings gone, wiped out the entire family tree. I’ll be out in the car; we’ve got another case. Bobby called this morning.”

The front door shut, and footsteps fell down the hall toward your room. Sam peeked his head in, a smile immediately spreading across his face. “Hey.”

“You’re leaving?”

He sighed, wiping a hand down his face, dragging slightly at his chin. “Dean wants to get to the next case.”

“Oh.” You shifted in bed, propping yourself up on your arm. “Well, thank you.”

“I wish we could stay longer.” Sam moved to the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped as he sat on the corner, the weight willed you forward. He laid a hand on your shoulder. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I’ll be fine.”

Seeing Sam out was one of the first times you had taken a hard look at the hole in your floor. Dean had done a make-shift job in patching it up. Thin sheets of plywood were nailed together haphazardly with different sized nails hammered in here and there. The wood wobbled as you walked over it. Maybe it was time to skip town.

Dean stood on the curb with a disposable cup, with what you presumed to be filled with coffee, sipping away as he relished in the morning sun. Perking up, he waved a big hand to you. “Stay safe, kiddo!”

“Will do, Mr. Stark!” You hollered back, eliciting a laugh from Sam.

“You sure you’ll be okay?”

“Yeah.” You turned back to the living room. “I’ll probably have to move. I don’t need the cops on my tail for the missing people burnt in my backyard.”

Sam waited a moment, a thoughtful look on his face. He bit the inside of his mouth and glanced back to Dean who was now climbing into the driver’s side front seat. “You could come with us.”

“Sam.”

“I’m serious. We have a friend you could stay with. He does the same stuff you do. Lots of land, if you hate him you would never have to see him. He’s an older guy, a little rough-around-the-edges but has a good heart. It’s our home-base.” He grasped at your hand. “I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

“I’ll consider it.”

~~*~~

“We’re home!” The front door slammed shut as two sets of footsteps fell down the front hall into the kitchen.

“Hunt go well?” You wiped your hands and moved to greet the hunter. Sam smiled, slipping his arm around you as he planted a kiss on your cheek. “Mhm.” He replied.

“What?” Bobby had hardly looked up from his desk as he tapped away on his phone. “No kiss for me?”

“Good to see you too, Bobby.”

Dean slid into the kitchen, making a disgusted face as he took in the scene before him. “Couples.” He grumbled, tugging the fridge door open and grabbing a beer. “No kiss for me either?” He grinned smugly, making quick time as he found a bottle opener and lost himself in the cold liquid.

It hadn’t taken long for you to accept Sam’s offer. After an entire five minutes of deliberation, you agreed. The important things fit perfectly into the back seat of the Impala, mostly books and electronics. Dean grumbled at the slight delay in events as he directed himself back home as opposed to the case. Your relationship with Sam had blossomed from there.

A ding rung out from the study. “That’s me!” You slipped out of Sam’s grasp. “Got work to do.”

[lady-une]

Enough extra: E-Day

Hey y’all so with the news of enlistment me and my group chat had a talk. I jokingly said what if Glory was the one to see SEUNGRI off and it was requested for a little one shot. I wasn’t sure if I was going to do a stand alone or add it to a current story. I decided to add it to enough since I was working on it anyways. As much as I hate to even have to say this because you would all know by now but I am ot5. But anyways. As always leave me some love, comment and share.

With everything that has happened he thought they would still be there for him. What is he supposed to do other then move on when the “Family” he had is no longer there. Enough is enough. It is time for him to be happy.

Theme: angst

Word: 3221

The rain hitting the window was a calming noise to Seungri amidst the silence of the room. The letter laying on the coffee table was like a bomb slowly ticking down until it would explode. Seungri knew this day would come, it was a day most men in Korea hated but knew it was inevitable. Their life would be put on hold for two years while they did their duty and enlisted. Having known so many people including his hyungs who have already gone through it Seungri knew it wouldn’t be too bad.

The phone ringing on the couch next to him brought him out of his stupor, reaching down he picked it up and saw that it was Glory.

“Hello?”

“Hyung, want to get Italian tonight? I have a craving for spaghetti but I don’t want to eat alone.”

Glory was like this little ray of sunshine since the scandal, no matter how dark the clouds were he always found a way to punch through and lighten his mood. “Of course. I will come pick you up around 7 ok.”

“I cant wait hyung, see you then!”

The phone clicked silent and Seungri smiled as he stood from the couch. As Seungri walked back to the bedroom he started to call his hyungs in hopes they would be able to join them.

“Hyung can you make it out to dinner? I have something important to say.”

“Sorry maknae, I have dinner tonight with my in-laws. What did you need to say?”

“I have my enlistment date, will you be there to see me off?”

Seungri waited for Youngbae to respond but could hear his wife talking to him at the same time.

“Hyung?” Seungri called out.

“Oh sorry maknae, yeah yeah of course I will be. Look I have to go.”

The phone went silent. Seungri dialed Daesung next.

“Hyung?”

“Maknae!”

Seungri pulled the phone away from his ear at the loud shrill of a drunk Daesung. “Hyung are you busy?”

“I’m of at a certain Bingu’s house, he had a new bottle of wine.”

“Oh ok. Well I wont bother you two but I wanted to let you know I got my enlistment letter. Will you be there to see me off?”

A loud thud followed by even louder laughter could be heard.

“Hyung are you ok?”

“You elder hyung fell over trying to pose like a ballerina. I will talk to you later maknae.”

Again the phone went silent. Sitting on the bed Seungri dialed the one person he was sure would join him tonight.

“Hello?” A groggy Jiyong answered his phone.

“Did I wake you?” Seungri replied in a whisper.

“Yeah, I was at the studio late.”

“Well I wont keep you up, but I got my enlistment letter.”

“Oh. When do you go?”

“In a week. Will you be there?”

“I will have to check the schedule.”

“Ok, get back to me.”

“Yeah.”

“Good night I lov..” Seungri didn’t get to finish his sentence before the phone went silent.

Pulling up to Glory’s apartment Seungri waited in the car. Not long after arriving the door opened and in slipped a bubbly Glory.

“Did I keep you waiting?”

“Of course not silly. Ready?”

Glory nodded his head and the two took off. The car ride to the restaurant was spent in laughter as Glory sang along horribly out of tune on purpose to the songs on the radio. It was a thing the two would do, they would do their best to out sing the other in the worst possible way.

Pulling up to the restaurant they handed the keys to the valet and entered the building. It wasn’t busy at all and no one was there to hound them. They got a few looks here and there and Seungri could hear the whispers and glares. So many people saw him as a guilty man. No matter what was said to clear his name, society didn’t care. The media did a bang up job painting him as a bad man and smearing his name, connecting him to things he had no true connection to. Knetz only believe what they are fed by the media. The media could tell them the sky is green and birds are actually fish and they would believe them.

After finishing dinner the two sat and ate desert. Seungri swirled his glass of ice water before clearing his throat.

“I have something to tell you.”

Glory put down his fork and looked up at Seungri while he chewed his food.

“I got my enlistment letter today. I have to enlist next week.”

Glory harshly swallowed his food, “That was quick. Usually you get a little longer from the day you get the letter.”

“Yeah but I should have enlisted along time ago.”

“Who is going to take you?”

“Taekgu will of course take me. I am sure one of my brothers will go with me.”

“Well I will be there for sure! I wouldn’t miss this.”

“Thanks, I knew I would have you there in my corner.”

The two finished their meal before paying the bill and leaving.

Over the next couple of days Seungri spent them with his family. Enjoying the time they had before he would be stuck in a room with strangers who probably didn’t even like him. The anxiety of his debut years were coming back. He had the same fear when he first joined BigBang. He was alone and had no one while starting a new chapter in his life. The others were already so close and he felt like an outsider. He knew this would be the same thing all over again.

Seungri laid on the couch with his had in his mothers lap like when he was a little boy. His mother was singing him a song like she did when he was little, a comforting tune that always helped ease away his fears.

“My sweet boy, you know this will all have to go.” His mother said as she played with his long hair.

“I know. I am going to go tomorrow.”

“Are your other members going to go with you?”

“I was going to text them tonight and ask.”

“It’s been so long since I have seen any of them. You tell that Jiyong that he better bring himself around more.”

Seungri laughed and sat up before kissing his mother on the cheek and heading towards his room. Once inside he flopped on the bed and pulled out his phone. Sending a message to the group chat he asked if the others would be free to go with him to cut his hair. One by one they each viewed the chat but no one responded back. Seungri assumed they must be busy in the studio and put his phone on the charger before getting ready for bed.

After eating breakfast Seungri went back into his room and again flopped on the bed before grabbing his phone. Still there was no reply from his brothers, the message still sat on read. Sending them another message with the time that he would be at Taehyun’s place. Again the message was read but nothing was said.

After getting out of the shower Seungri got dressed and waited for Glory to come grab him. It wasn’t long before his phone alerted him that Glory was downstairs waiting for him. Seungri kissed his mother goodbye before walking out the door. The ride to the hair studio wasn’t long at all and as much as Glory tried to get Seungri to sing he just wouldn’t play along.

Arriving at the studio the boys walked in to find more friends already inside and waiting.

“My sweet chubby boy, it’s finally your time!” Taehyun walked up to Seungri before pinching his cheeks and hugging him.

“Noona.” Seungri said as he embraced her.

“Come now sit down. Let your noona work her magic.”

Seungri laughed, “Noona its not like its too hard so shave a head.”

“My boy I wont let you go into the army with an uneven cut. Now sit.”

Seungri sat or rather was pushed into the chair.

“Now where are your hyungs? I would assume they would want the honor of making the first cut. It’s customary.”

Glory watched as Seungri’s face fell at the mention of members who were absent as usual.

“They are busy with work of course.” Seungri said trying to force a fake smile on his face.

“Ok, well who wants to take the honor then?” Taehyun asked as she looked around to what friends Seungri had there.

One by one the boys there each took turns shaving off a small amount of Seungri’s hair. After each shave they ruffled his hair and kissed his head wishing him luck. Finally it was Glory’s turn and he slowly went over Seungri’s head cutting off the rest of it. He watched Seungri’s reflection in the mirror as he cut, watching the tear slowly slip passed his eye and fall onto the cape. When Glory finished he set the clippers down and brushed off his head before laying a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“They might not be here but the people who truly care for you are and we always will be here hyung.” Glory whispered into Seungri’s ear.

“Alright now its my turn to finish this up.” Taehyun said as she hip bumped Glory out of the way.

Music was turned on and laughter was soon filling up the studio. Seungri grabbed his phone and opened up instagram deciding to do a LIVE now to help lift his spirits. The fans quickly logged on to watch and were wishing him luck and telling him to stay healthy. Seungri turned the camera around to show who was all there and it wasn’t long before the fans caught onto the lack of BigBang members. Turning the camera around Seungri began to sing along to some songs that came on and Glory took the chance to get right next to him and sing along. Fans were enjoying seeing Seungri smile again and laughing. Soon the lack of BigBang members were gone from their minds.

“Glory little boy if you don’t move I will shave off all that hair too!” Taehyun said jokingly.

Glory laughed and moved back to his chair to allow her to finish what she was doing. When Seungri was done he stood up from he chair and hugged Taehyun thanking her.

“Now you hear me Lee Seunghyun, you better not let any of those boys push you around in there. You need to stand up for yourself. You are an innocent man free of all those charges. Do not let a single person make you think otherwise or try to hold that scandal over your head. I don’t know what is going on with those stupid hyungs of yours but you have some good friends here for you. Do not go through anymore hardships alone, you need to lean on others when you need them.” Putting her hand under Seungri’s chin she raised it up. “Now go forward with your head held high, do not put it down anymore. Do not let society dull that inner spark of yours. Be the great Seungri again. Rise again like the Phoenix you are.”

Seungri looked down and kissed Taehyun’s cheek before thanking her and walking out of the studio with his friends. As it was his final night Seungri spent it with his friends eating all his favorite food for the last time as it would be a long time until he had them again. They all joked about how the army had no idea what they were in store for. If they thought the fan boys were hard when he was there for the other members events then they hadn’t see anything yet. Each of his friends knew that when Seungri was his normal self no one stood a chance against his charm. That he could get anyone to become his friend by just talking with them, there was just something about him that made him so likable and easy to get along with.

After dinner Glory went back with Seungri to his house as he had decided to spend the night so he would be there when it was time to go. Laying in bed the two both tried to sleep but were unable to.

“Hyung you need to sleep.”

“I know but I cant.”

“What is on your mind hyung?”

“Things are about to change again and I am scared.”

“Hyung it isn’t that bad, before you know it you will be out and able to move forward with the other half of your life.”

“Yes but that also scares me. The future. What if the country doesn’t forgive me still? What if everyone is still hating me?”

“Then we say screw them. You don’t need them! We can do other things with your life.”

“I know but I want to be back with my other members. I want to be back making music. The country has to forgive me by the time I’m done. They just have to. Once I am done I will be able to come back to my members and we will be able to make music together just like before. They wont abandon me. They would never do that.”

“But hyung, they weren’t there today and they haven’t been there lately.”

“They have been busy that’s all. Just you wait and see, they will send me some kind of message wishing me luck if they cant make it. I bet they will be there tomorrow. They wouldn’t let me go alone in this. I bet they all said they had plans just because they wanted to surprise me.”

“Ok hyung, I will believe you. Now sleep.”

Seungri rolled over in the bed and looked at the wall, a silent tear escaped his eye. Were those words just for Glory so he would believe them or were they for himself in hopes that he would believe himself.

The next morning the two woke up bright and early to get ready. Seungri’s mom had made a large breakfast and packed them in containers for the boys to eat on the road. Seungri kissed his mother goodbye and hugged his sister and father goodbye. As the door closed Seungri could hear his mother’s soft sobs. Seungri did his best to hold back his own tears, now was not the time to break down.

Once in the car the driver drove off, Taekgu was in the front passenger seat while Glory and Seungri sat in the back. Glory was trying his best to get Seungri to eat what his mother had made but Seungri’s anxiety was back and his appetite was gone.

“Hyung you need to eat, your mother would be sad to know that you went in with an empty stomach. You wont get a chance to eat anything until they call dinner and even then its nothing appealing. Please don’t make me bring all these full boxes back to your mother.”

That seamed to do the trick and Seungri started to slowly eat what was handed to him. He ate as he slowly watched the city flash by him until all he saw were other cars and trees. It was awhile before he would reach the base and the whole way there he kept checking his phone hoping that the others would have sent him a message but there was nothing. He still had hope then that they would surprise him there.

At some point Seungri had fallen asleep on the drive there. Glory softly shook him awake and watched him stretch out like a cat.

“Hey we will be arriving shortly. Here are some wipes if you want to freshen up a bit.”

Seungri smiled and took the wipes offered. It would be a shame to show up on his enlistment date with a crusted up trail of drool on his cheek. The car soon came to a stop and Seungri took a glance at everyone there. There was a large crowd there mixed of men enlisting and their families but mixed in there was also the media. Seungri was now a civilian and it was supposed to be a closed enlistment but those vultures never let him be.

Sensing Seungri’s stress about the media Glory grabbed onto his hand. “Hyung I am here for you don’t worry.”

Seungri smiled and still looked around, hoping to see another vehicle near by that would hold his brothers but didn’t see anything.

“Taekgu hyung, did the guys say they would be here?”

“No they didn’t tell me anything. Are you ready to go?”

Seungri chewed on his lip trying to hold in his tears.

“Hyung?” Glory called out.

“Yeah lets go.”

Taekgu got out of the car first and opened the door to let Seungri out while Glory got out from the other side of the car. People shouting could be heard in front of Seungri as he put his back pack on. Walking towards the loud crowd of people had Seungri’s heart rate speed up. Seungri looked on either side of himself and saw Taekgu to his left and Glory flanking his right side. This gave Seungri a bit of relief to know that they were still near him. As Seungri got closer to the media and their flashing lights Seungri shoved his hand in his pocket holding onto the little plush dragon he was given by Jiyong years ago.

“Seungri!” Reporters shouted at him.

Seungri took time to stop every now and then to smile and bow at the cameras. As much as Seungri hated the media for how they destroyed his life he still needed to play nice with them. Once the last bit of media had been finished and he was finally safely in the spot for friends and family to say goodbye, Seungri turned to Glory with tears rimming his eyes threatening to spill over.

“Hyung?” Glory whispered as he grabbed his hand.

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Hyung you just say the word and I will enlist all over again!”

Seungri laughed, “Don’t be silly you know you cant.”

“I will find a way to enlist if I need to.”

“They must have been busy right? Work had to have kept them. Why else would they not have come or even sent me a message.”

“Of course, they wouldn’t miss their maknae enlisting. Don’t worry about it. I am sure you will get some message from them apologizing a million times for not being here.”

“Yeah what am I thinking, they wouldn’t let me down like this.”

“Of course not. Now you cheer up and go in there. You show them exactly who the great Seungri is hyung!”

Seungri wiped his eyes and smiled. He hugged Glory one last time before turning around and walking towards the gate. He wanted to look back but knew if he did he would break down in tears and that wouldn’t be a good look. Instead he held his head high and walked through the gates doing his best to ignore the fear that was bubbling up in him. Things would be different after this day he thought.

[spine-buster]

Alone, Together | Chapter 21 | Morgan Rielly

A/N:  Y’all deserve this one.  I’ll be at church cleansing my sins if you need me.  

Briony never got to give out Valentine’s Day cards at school because she could never afford them.  She’d get them from her fellow students, decorated with superheroes or puppies or whatever else was popular at the time, usually with a heart-shaped chocolate or a Hershey’s Kiss, but she was never able to give any out.  That was why, given the opportunity, she went out and bought really corny Valentine’s Day cards, the fold up ones that came in packs of 30, wrote one to Morgan for each day of his road trip, and hid them in his suitcase for the 13-day tour of Montreal, New York, Colorado, Las Vegas, Arizona, and St. Louis.  Bee was a bit bummed that she wasn’t able to spend time with Morgan on their first Valentine’s Day together, but there wasn’t exactly anything she could do about it.  

Instead, she was focused on the training she was completing for her new job.  The day after her interview, Mark Travers had called her back.  “Can you come back to my office?” he had asked.  Morgan was at morning practice, so she high-tailed it in an Uber.  When she got there, he sat her down in the same chair she sat in for the interview.  “What are your salary expectations?”  “There will be performance bonuses if you accept and do well.”  “We’re not going with the candidate from Montreal.  I would love for you to be part of our team.”  It was all very surreal, and of course, she accepted the job.  She was a junior financial analyst at Scotiabank.  Her hard work paid off in the best way possible.  Yes, she had a boyfriend, the best boyfriend in the world – but now, she had a job.  She had a career.  She had everything she had ever wanted.

Morgan was, of course, over the moon when she told him.  So over the moon, in fact, that the Leafs won their next two games against Anaheim and Ottawa.  She was able to go to both games after her training, just a short walk to the ACC from Scotia Plaza.  He asked so many questions and was so interested in everything she would be doing.  He was like a little kid in a candy store.  He wouldn’t shut up about it.  He told his teammates.  He told the wives and girlfriends (as if she hadn’t already).  He told Mike Babcock because, well, he just happened to be listening at the time.  He told the Uber Eats delivery man when he dropped off their food that night, a celebratory feast on Indian food.  He’d tell a park bench if it listened.  

But, like always, then he had to leave.  A thirteen day road trip for the team.  He cursed the fact that after all these big events, he always had to leave, and they could never properly celebrate.  They couldn’t even properly celebrate their first Valentine’s Day, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it.  There wasn’t exactly anything any of the other wives or girlfriends could do about it, so instead of wallowing in self-pity, Alannah had organized a “Galentine’s Day” night over at hers and Zach’s place.  The boys were facing the Vegas Golden Knights tonight, and the girls could at least watch the game together while eating junk food and sipping on mimosas and mocktails rather than spend the night alone.  

Until then, Bee found herself with Aryne, who was apparently feeling particularly stir-crazy.  There was a week of paid training before Bee assumed her full responsibilities, and in the time, Aryne made it her personal goal to meet with Bee everyday for lunch so they could check out places to eat in the financial district.  Today, they were at the Cactus Club, an import from western Canada that just opened a few blocks north of the Scotia Plaza.  Aryne had ordered them both a tuna poke bowl and non-alcoholic Valentine’s Day-themed drinks.  

They had been talking for a while, discussing who was going to be at Alannah’s place that night and what time Aryne would pick Bee up, when suddenly a shrill voice was heard from across the restaurant screaming, “Ohmigod, Aryne is that you?!”  Aryne and Bee both looked to their left, and Bee saw a beach blonde running over to them with a giant smile on her face.  

“Oh Lord,” Aryne mused under her breath as she smiled at the woman making a beeline.  

“Who’s that?” Bee asked, but it was too late.  The woman had approached their table and Aryne was smiling politely at her.

“So nice to see you here!” the woman said, bending down and giving Aryne a hug, who didn’t bother getting up from her seat.  “I can’t believe I ran into you here of all places.  What are you doing here?”

“I’m having lunch with my friend,” Aryne said.  Why else would she be in a restaurant with another person sitting across from her?  “Bee, this is Sydney.  Sydney this is Bee McTa--”

“So you’re Bee?” she said slyly, not bothering to offer her hand for a polite shake.  “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“From who?” Bee asked.

“From Instagram,” Sydney said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.  Bee got worried the second she mentioned it.  She didn’t even know who this Sydney was – why did she knew who Bee was?  What had she seen on Instagram that made her feel like she already knew who Bee was?  “I just love that Chanel bag that Morgan got you.”

“What have you been up to, Sydney?” Aryne intervened the split second she saw Bee’s eyebrows furrow.  “What brings you back to Toronto?”

“Well, I had my dress fitting at Kleinfeld today.  Jessica had a working lunch so I thought I’d come to Cactus Club and see what the food’s like,” she explained.  Bee had no idea who Jessica was and she wasn’t inclined in the slightest to ask.

“Jessica who?  Mulroney?” Aryne asked.

“Of course, Aryne.  Who else?” Sydney smiled.  “Anyway, the second dress was already ordered in Southampton so we’re waiting for that to come in for alterations as well.  Then there’s the veil and the flower wall and just, like, so many other things.”

“Should’ve eloped,” Aryne winked.

“Boomer wouldn’t want that,” she giggled, turning her attention back to Bee.  “You must know my fiancé Matt?  Or my father Boomer Esiason?”

Bee didn’t understand.  Did Sydney just ‘my father’ her a la Meghan McCain?  Was she just name-dropping people in the hopes that Bee would recognize who she was?  Why would she want anyone to recognize her?  Bee shook her head.  “I’m sorry, I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

“My fiancé is Matt Martin.  He plays for the Islanders.  He was on the Leafs last year,” her tone was light but she spoke in short sentences, talking to Bee like she was an idiot.  “Do you not know about hockey?”

“Not a lot, actually,” Bee tried to keep her voice as cordial as possible.  She could see Aryne trying to suppress a smirk.  “I’m usually too busy with work to learn about other teams, so I just stick to the Leafs.”

“Oh…” Sydney was taken aback by Bee’s answer, by Bee’s lack of interest in who she was, in Bee’s lack of caring about anything to do with her.  

“Bee’s a financial analyst with Scotiabank,” Aryne informed Sydney.

“And Morgan’s okay with that?”

A shiver ran up Bee’s spine.  “Why wouldn’t he be okay with that?”

“Morgan earns more than enough money for the both of you.  All the hockey players I know would love to have their girlfriends at home with them to help with the hockey schedule.  You know how boys are so dependent,” she tried to turn it into a joke.  “They can be so useless sometimes.”

Maybe her boy was dependent, but Morgan could get by on his own.  Bee didn’t like the insinuation that he was the only one that mattered in the relationship and that her needs took second place to his.  That’s not the way she lived her life, ever, and that’s not the way she and Morgan acted in their relationship.  “Morgan loves that I have my own career,” Bee said definitively, taking a sip of water to prevent her from saying anything else she might regret.

Sydney smiled politely.  “Well, I won’t keep you two much longer,” she gave a half smile to Bee before focusing on Aryne.  “Look for the invitation to come late May.  It’s going to be in Southampton.  We’ll provide hotel details.”

“Good luck with the rest of the planning,” Aryne smiled before Sydney walked away, readjusting a Prada bag on her shoulder.  Aryne looked back at Bee and gave her a look.  “Sorry about that.  I thought we’d be safe here.”

“Is she always like that?  Namedropping Jessicas and Boomers and who her husband is?” Bee asked.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Aryne rolled her eyes slightly.  “Her dad was a pro football player and now she’s getting married to Matt.  He played for the Islanders with John, then played in Toronto for two years, but now he’s back on the island.  She’s really close with Steph.”

Bee tried not to roll her eyes.  She didn’t like those types of people – those that would namedrop to get what they want or so they could let you know who they were.  It actually did say a lot about who they were, and to Bee, it wasn’t that good.  She didn’t even like it when Morgan did it all those months ago at Cibo.  “What did she mean she saw me on Instagram?” Bee asked.

“Well obviously we’ve been uploading pictures and stuff,” Aryne said, taking her phone out of her purse.  “But then there’s like, the fanpages or whatever.  She stalks them a bit to see what they say about her and Matt.”

“The what?”

“The fanpages.  You know, like the girls who somehow get a hold of our pictures and then post them on their accounts?” she phrased it as more of a question.  When she saw the confused look on Bee’s face, she shook her head.  “Oh come on Bee.  You have to know about them.”

“I know about the girls who send me messages telling me I’m fat and Morgan’s my sugardaddy,” she said bluntly.  Aryne knew about them too.  They laughed about them together.  “I don’t know about these so called fan-pages.  How do they get the pictures if our profiles are private?”

“Oh, they find their ways,” Aryne typed something into her phone and swiped through a few screens.  “It’s nothing horrible.  They literally just post pictures.  But…yeah.  Here’s you,” she said, showing Bee her phone over the table.

Bee took Aryne’s phone in her hands and swiped through the post from @theladyleafsoftoronto: ten pictures stolen from her Instagram account, from Ashley’s Instagram, and even from Lucy’s private one somehow.  Group shots of her with the girls.  None of her and Morgan together, thankfully, because those were few and far in between.  She had just posted her first one, series of photos of them together in Vancouver, after they got back from their trip.  She’d cleared her Instagram like Angie told her to, and she hoped they wouldn’t get out.

“Check out at NHL wives and girlfriends,” Aryne said the name of another account before she stuffed her face with contents of her poke bowl.  “Those girls should work for CSIS.”

Bee punched the handle into the search bar and immediately saw the account.  She didn’t have to scroll far to see the two different posts, each with another series of photos and videos of her.  Twenty total.  They had screengrabbed Instagram stories of her and Morgan kissing from Auston’s New Years Eve party and others, Boomerangs from Halloween in their costumes, and even went so far as to include one of the oldest pictures of herself she had posted to Instagram.  They were crazy.  And somehow – yup, of course, of-fucking-course – the series of photos of her and Morgan together from Vancouver were on there.  She didn’t even want to know how they got there.

“Wait…” Bee said as she noticed one specific picture.  Their backs were to the camera and they were standing on the seawall on Kitsilano Beach, where Andy brought them when they landed in Vancouver.  “That’s…that’s not…”

“What’s wrong?”

“One of these is Shirley’s picture,” she said.  “Shirley…she only posts to Facebook.  You mean to tell me they stalk her Facebook?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Aryne shrugged her shoulders.  “I told you.  They should work for CSIS.  They could get information on anyone.  Hell, if you didn’t even have an online presence they’d still find you.”

It was at that point, staring at the candid picture Shirley had taken of them in Vancouver, that Bee realized there was nothing she or Morgan could do about it.  Absolutely nothing.  They could switch on every privacy button they could, they could refuse to post – none of it mattered.  It would still end up somewhere.  It would still end up on an Instagram profile with almost 10,000 followers and fifty comments on the post.  It was completely out of their control.

So why bother?

“Jesus,” Bee shivered slightly, and it wasn’t because of the cold outside.  She handed Aryne’s phone back to her.  “I didn’t know…I mean, these girls must have a lot of time on their hands.”

“I know it’s a lot, but it’s not a big deal.  It happens to us all.  They all find it somehow.  The more you come to just accept that it’s gonna happen, the less freaked out you get when it does happen,” Aryne explained.  “The fact that you don’t care what they say helps, too.  Yours and Morgan’s relationship is strong and you’re better than what they say about you.  Other girls aren’t as strong as you.”

***

Bee had received a text with a picture of every Valentine Morgan found on his 13 day road trip followed by a heart and a message of “I can’t wait to see you”.  Now that he was finally on his way home, Bee sent him a text back: “I can’t wait to fuck you.”

She was restless.  All she wanted was him with her, beneath her, above her, beside her, behind her – she didn’t fucking care at this point.  She wanted touch him and to feel him so desperately she was willing to jump his bones the second he got in the door.  Hell, she’d meet him down in the parking garage if it meant getting her hands on him.  But with the last ounce of self-restraint she had, she put on her blush coloured baby doll lingerie set and waited for him on the bed.  

Even as she heard the door open and shut, she stayed in her position.  “Bumblebee?” Morgan called out, the sound of his bag hitting the floor loud in the quietness of the apartment.

“In here!”

She heard his footsteps make their way to the bedroom.  When he opened the door, he was greeted with her, sitting on the bed on her knees in her lingerie.  He stopped for a moment, taking in the scene before him.  “Well well well…happy belated Valentine’s Day to me,” he hummed.

“Happy Valentine’s Day baby,” she smiled, noticing he had something in his hand.  “What’s that?”

“Your valentines,” he said.  “Wanted to give you a kiss for every one you left me, but it seems like you have other plans in mind,” he licked his lips.  “I’ve never seen this before.”

“I was keeping it a secret.”

“Oh were you,” he sauntered over to her, making a come hither motion with his finger.  She moved towards the edge of the bed where he was standing, slipping her arms around his neck.  “I mean it.  Thirteen kisses,” he mumbled, grabbing hold of the flesh at her hips before giving her the first kiss.  “I love the pink,” he mumbled.

“I knew you would,” she said, biting his bottom lip.  “God, I missed you so fucking much.”

“I missed you too, Briony.  But I’m home now.”

She kissed him again, unable to wait any longer.  They definitely gave each other more than thirteen kisses as they made out, but she wasn’t exactly complaining.  Morgan’s hands on her flesh were intoxicating and all she wanted to feel.  She wasted no time in ridding him of his clothes.  He moved quickly to put the valentines on the dresser so he wouldn’t lose them.  

“Lie on the bed,” she directed him when he came back.

“What?”

“I said lie on the bed,” she repeated as she made way for him to do just that.

“What are you --”

“Can you stop asking questions and just lie on the bed!” she giggled, pulling him down so he had no choice.  Crawling in between his legs, she couldn’t help but smile as he put his hands behind his head to view her.  She grabbed a pillow for him so he could use it in place of his hands.  She needed his hands for this.  “Did your cock miss me?”

“Mmmm, you have no idea,” he said, his voice low.  

She helped him out of his boxer-briefs and scratched her nails teasingly down his thighs.  When she finally grabbed hold of his cock, she smiled before kissing the head gently.  Morgan bit down on his lip as he looked at her.  “C’mon baby.”

“Nuh-uh,” she shook her head, a devilish smile on her face.  “Nice and slow.”

He glared at her momentarily.  “Excuse me?”

“Nice and slow,” she repeated, her eyes flashing with revenge.  “I can tease too, you know.”

“What are you – wha…” he didn’t understand what she was trying to say, but then it hit him.  This was payback.  ‘Nice and slow’ was payback for their little impromptu rendezvous before Auston’s New Year’s Eve party, where he’d teased her so achingly slow with his fingers.  “Baby, please --”

“No,” she said definitively, licking the underside of his cock, but pulling away right after.  “Nice.  And.  Slow.”

He let out an exasperated sigh.  He knew he was going to pay for that one day.

 True to word, miraculously, she worked on his cock slow and steady, making sure to take her time with the foreplay and use all of her tricks that she knew would drive him wild: the moaning, the dirty talk, even the simple act of catching his eye while his cock was in her mouth and rolling them to the back of her head in pleasure.  His body felt like it was a thousand degrees as she worked her magic.  

When she began to take him deeper into her mouth and throat, he made sure to gather her hair in his hand as he guided her up and down his shaft.  Like always, his eyes rolled back when she would gag slightly, but because she was taking this all nice and slow, everything seemed heightened.  She was thoroughly enjoying herself and taking her time, and by her actions he knew she wasn’t forcing herself to do anything she was uncomfortable doing.  

“Feeling good, baby?” she asked quickly before taking him into her mouth again.

He grunted in appreciation, tightening his grip on her hair slightly.  “You’re so fucking good.”

She moaned a little before she sucked him from base to tip, ending with a pop.  “I wanna taste you baby.”

His breathing was hot and heavy.  “W-What?” he stuttered out.

“I want you to cum down my throat baby.  I want to taste you,” she cooed.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” he moaned out, but before he could say anything else, she took him deep in her throat quickly, gagging, and he actively had to think about something else to prevent him from exploding right then and there.  He caught her eye as she looked up at him.  “I won’t last long if you keep doing that.”

She giggled.  “Good,” she said before continuing her actions.

True to his word, it wasn’t long before he began to lose control.  He tightened his grip on her hair one last time before he rocked his hips so he could push himself even deeper into her throat.  After one last moan and one last gag, she felt him shoot his hot load into her throat.  His breathing was erratic, his sighs more high-pitched than normal, and Bee let out a satisfied sound as she swallowed every bit of him.  

She continued sucking until she felt him get soft, ending with another pop and another devilish grin on her face.  “Happy Valentine’s Day, Morgan.”

“Hap…Hap…” he tried to speak, but he couldn’t.  He couldn’t even think straight.  “I can’t…I can’t…” he repeated, worried, still on a high.  He didn’t know what to do.  He couldn’t move, but he knew the night couldn’t end here.  No way.  He never wanted to not make her come, especially for Valentine’s Day celebration, but after doing so himself, like that, he didn’t know how long he’d have to take to recuperate.  Needless to say, he didn’t exactly want to wait either.  

“C’mon Morgan,” she whispered, her voice breathy and low, her lips grazing against his ear.  

His brain was fucking mush.  He wasn’t even sure where he was to be honest.  “I…I…” he tried to formulate a coherent thought, completely spent and still trying to catch his breath.

“C’mon baby.  I’m all dressed up,” she taunted him.

He watched her as she slipped her hand underneath her panties and began to touch herself.  He regained enough semblance of a conscience to realize he didn’t want her to be doing that.  He wanted to be the one.  “Stop,” he said as firmly as he could.  

She did as she was told.  She looked at him and a small smile crept onto her lips.  “How do you want me?” she asked.  

Just by the way she phrased it he was ready to explode again right then and there.  “Get on your knees,” he said, and she followed instructions, lying back on her knees to face him.  “Other way,” he directed, watching the surprise spread across her face as she did what she was told yet again.  

Finally regaining enough consciousness, he got on his knees too, getting behind her so her back was flush with his chest.  He wrapped his left arm around her slowly, making sure his fingers grazed her skin underneath the material of the babydoll.  His right hand was already playing with the lacy material of her underwear.  He kissed his way along her shoulder and up her neck until he got to her ear.  “You trust me?” he asked.

Bee nodded her head.  “I trust you.”

He gave her another tender kiss on her neck, his right hand already reaching over and slipping into the front of her panties to tease her hot core.  She jumped at his touch, knowing what he was about to do.  “I’m gonna start with one,” he whispered in her ear.

“Two.”

A shiver went up his spine.  “Two?”

She nodded her head.  “I want it so bad.”

He sighed contently, chuckling to himself at the desperation in her voice.  He began teasing her with two fingers, playing with her slick folds and rubbing circles on her clit as he continued to kiss and bite the skin along her neck and shoulders, definitely leaving marks.  He could feel her getting wetter with each passing moment and, lacking all self-control, he didn’t wait to push his fingers inside of her.  

She moaned at the action, grinding her hips against his hand as much as possible.  She snaked her hand along Morgan’s arm that wrapped around her body and intertwined her fingers with his.  “Fuck, Mo.”

“Feel good?” he bit down on her neck.

Bee could only nod her head as he curled his fingers in her, hitting the spot that made her shake in pleasure.  “Feels so fucking good,” she managed to breathe out.

His kisses were a mix of tender and hungry; his bites both loving and heated.  He bit his way back up to her ear.  “Are you gonna be a good girl for me Briony?” he asked.

She bit her lip and closed her eyes.  “Yes.”

“Are you gonna take more?”

“Yes.  Yes,” she said, desperate, grinding her hips again.  “Please Mo.  I want more.”

He slipped another finger in, now three fingers deep in her.  Bee shouted out slightly at the sensation, adjusting to the new feeling as much as she could before her body began reacting before her brain could.  A warm shiver went up her spine and she leaned back into Morgan, his chest slick with sweat.  “You okay?” he asked quickly.

“Go harder, Morgan.”

Was it possible to self-combust?  Because between the blowjob and this, he was sure he was going to spontaneously self-combust right then and there on the bed.  She knew just the right tone to use in her voice when she begged to drive him wild.  “You’re fucking desperate, aren’t you?”

“Please Morgan,” she begged again, bringing her free hand up to yank at his hair, pulling him so she could give him a sloppy kiss.  

His fingers continued to curl inside her and she moaned out in pleasure.  This time, he tightened the grip his arm had around her body, limiting her movement so she couldn’t grind against his hand as much.  He knew how much she liked when he held her hips down while he ate her out, making sure the responsibility of her pleasure was in his hands the most, and he figured she’d enjoy it just as much in this situation too.  A whine escaped her as she realized what he was doing; despite her best effort, she wasn’t able to grind down as much.  “Harder,” she panted out.

Losing any semblance of restraint he had left, he began pumping his three fingers in and out of her quickly, much to her wish and indulgence.  Her moans were loud and desperate, long and throaty, while, by some miracle, he was still rubbing against her clit and he was still kissing and biting down on the sensitive skin on her neck.  It was all too much for her – the different sensations in different places – and her body became hot and she could feel her orgasm already building as Morgan continued to work.  “Morgaaaaaaannnnn,” she elongated his name, pleading with him to continue exactly what he was doing.  

“You like that, huh,” he mumbled against her skin, making her nod her head.  “You’re so fucking desperate for me to fuck you like this.”

“Morgan, please,” she didn’t know what else to say.  She knew it was all she was saying but she could barely form a coherent thought.  This was so unlike anything they’d ever done; although he had fingered her before, it was never like this.  It was never this hot and this steamy and this raw.  She was so close she felt like she was going to explode already.  “I’m so close.”

“Then make a fucking mess, Briony.”

That’s it.  She’s lost it.  She cried out loudly, repeating his name over and over again as he curled his fingers in her one last time, making sure it lasted as long as it could as she collapsed against his body, her head leaning back onto his shoulder.  Her legs felt like jelly and her hair stuck against his skin.  

His fingers were still in her and her thighs were wet as he gave her a tender kiss.  “You’re such a good girl for me.  Always such a good girl,” he whispered.

“Again.”

He stopped momentarily.  He wasn’t expecting to hear that.  “What?”

“More.  And again.”

The shock was written all over his face, but she couldn’t see because between not facing him and her eyes rolling to the back of her head, she couldn’t see much of anything.  “I…you want more?” he clarified.

“Keep going,” she nodded her head.  “I want more.  Keep going until I can’t scream anymore.”

In a snap second he realized what she was asking him to do.  “Are you sure?” he asked one more time.

“Positive.  Go wild, baby.”

He practically growled at her request, tightening his grip around her once more and starting to move his fingers in and out of her again.  “You gonna take it all like a good girl?”

“Like your good girl.”

“Mmmmm, that’s right.  You’re my good girl,” he licked at her jawline.  “You ready?”

Bee nodded her head.  She whimpered when he curled his fingers and began pounding them into her even harder than before.  She felt so warm and wet and the sounds they were making, the moaning and the screaming and the panting, the squelching of her wetness against his hands, it was all so hot and heavy and neither Morgan nor Bee could get enough.  “Mooorrrrgaaannnnn, fuck you’re so good baby,” she cried out.

“You want to come again, Briony?  So desperate for me to make you come again?” he tormented her.

“Yes baby.  Over and over.”

“Over and over till you can’t walk tomorrow.”

“Yes!” she screamed out, apparently loving the idea.  “Yes baby.  Because of you.  Only you get to do this to my pussy.”

“You gonna make another mess?”

“Yes.  Yes Morgan.  Always.”

“You gonna come for me?”

“Only for you baby,” she turned her head as much as possible to kiss him.  “Don’t stop, baby.  Keep going until I can’t fucking take it anymore.”

Morgan did just that.  Over and over Bee cried out, losing control, screaming, panting, her body being shattered as waves of pleasure continually washed over her, non-stop, especially after Morgan slipped a fourth finger into her, stretching her completely and filling her like she hadn’t been filled before.  Her body felt like it was on fire as Morgan held her up in his arm, but the constant state of orgasm and the more overstimulation she felt, the more her body began to feel like it was going to collapse onto the bed at any given moment.  

The longer they went, the more orgasms she had, and the longer they went, the more Morgan recovered and began to feel hard again.  He didn’t even know how long they’d been going for, but because of the overstimulation, his non-stop movements, and the fact that Bee hadn’t been silent since they started, he also wasn’t truly sure how many orgasms she’d had.  “How many?”

She didn’t answer at first.  She couldn’t answer.  She was so wrecked she didn’t know words were a thing she could use.  “How many, Briony?” Morgan repeated.

“I d’know,” she let out quickly.  

“You wanted this baby.  How many?” he demanded an answer from her.  

“I don’t…I don’t know,” her moans were broken, her skin shining from the sweat.  “It’s so much.”  A rose flush had taken over her body.  His fingers hadn’t stopped.  She was too concentrated on the feeling; the feeling of pleasure but also the feeling of being completely lost to another person, her pleasure in his control, and feeling one hundred percent safe about it.  

“C’mon baby, you can keep going,” he encouraged her.  

“Morgan,” she cried out, so hot and so wet and so…so willing to keep going.

“C’mon, you can do it again, huh?  Like a good girl?  Like my good girl?”  His voice was soft instead of demanding, filled with love instead of forcing her to do something.  

“Y…Yes,” she panted out.  All she knew was that she was close, she was so close, but she wasn’t done yet.  It was a lot, almost too much, definitely more than she had ever felt before, but she wanted to keep going.  

“That’s my good girl,” Morgan cooed as he placed a kiss on her temple.  “I’m almost ready, okay?  But you’re being such a good girl.”

“Fuck me when you’re ready,” her voice was hoarse and strained.  

“Don’t worry baby.  I’ll fill you up like I always do.  Stretch that pretty pussy how you like it.”

“Mmmmmmm fuck, keep going Morgan.  Keep going,” she whimpered.  

“C’mon baby, you can take it.  You can take it,” Morgan hummed as he began moving his fingers inside her again.  She was so sensitive that any movement sent her over the edge quickly.  She cried out his name over and over, his fingers and her thighs absolutely fucking soaked, and it wasn’t long before he felt her walls clench around his fingers again, and again, and again.  

Finally, finally, the arm keeping her up loosened, his hand going to his cock to stroke himself and get him as hard as he could.  She immediately collapsed down, hitting the sheets as he teased at her entrance.  It wasn’t long before he pulled her by her hair, slick with the sweat from their bodies, and brought her back to be flush with his chest.  “Are you okay baby?” he asked.  She barely nodded her head.  “One more?”

She closed her eyes, another barely there nod.  “I need your cock deep inside me.”

He entered her in one quick go, gasping at how fucking wet she was and how fucking easy it was to slide in to her aching, hot pussy as she collapsed on the bed again, ass up in the air for him.  He knew he wasn’t going to last long, his hard thrusts burying his cock deep inside of her.  She screamed and moaned and whimpered over every movement, practically sobbing at the feeling of feeling completely and absolutely wrecked by Morgan.  When she felt his hot cum squirt inside her, one last orgasm – after way too many to count – ripped through her body, sending her into one last rush of pleasure before Morgan collapsed on top of her body, cock softening inside her but refusing to pull out.

It was a long time before they came back down to earth.  Bee’s heart was threatening beat right out of her chest, the overstimulation still running rampant through her, especially since Morgan’s cock was still inside her.  She took some deep breaths to try and calm herself.  When Morgan’s arm wrapped around her and he shifted their bodies slightly so he was spooning her, he placed tender kisses along her shoulder, now absolutely ravaged with red hickeys and bite marks, and she felt her heartbeat slow down a bit.

“You okay, baby?” he whispered.

At first, she could only nod her head.  Her throat was so dry it hurt to speak.  She wondered if she would have a voice tomorrow.  “I’m okay.”

“You did so good baby.  You were so good for me,” he cooed, giving her another tender kiss.  “Always such a good girl.”

She couldn’t get enough of him calling her his good girl.  She knew she was always good for him, to him, but he was good to her and for her, too.  She twisted her body so she could somewhat see him yet still keep his cock inside her.  She was absolutely spent, just absolutely destroyed, but she wanted to see the face of the man who made her feel this way; the face of the man who indulged her every want but always kept her needs in mind.  “Thank you, baby,” she whispered.  She wouldn’t have been confident doing this with anybody else, and for that, she was truly thankful.  She could completely lose herself to him and know she would be safe.  She knew he would explore this with her but always keep her in control.  

“Thank you, baby,” he kissed her.  “I love you so much.  I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No.  No, you didn’t hurt me.  It was better than what I wanted.  I love you too.”

“You wanna clean u--”

“No,” Bee said as he began to move.  Her desperate hand on his skin stopped his movements.  She knew it probably wasn’t the best decision but she didn’t care.  “I don’t care right now.  Just stay here with me.”

Morgan nestled back into her, arm draping over her body as he pulled her close against his chest, their bodies still slick with sweat.  She’d kill him once she realized what her shoulders and neck looked like, but for now, all he could do was kiss the skin peppered with love bites until they both drifted off to sleep.

[starlightinhumanform]

The Art of Love: Chapter 12

Fandom: She Ra (2018)

Ship: Glimadora 

Summary: While Glimmer gets to spend some time with her mother, Angella, she gets a potentially disastrous text from Adora. 

Warnings (for this chapter): Food Mention, One reference to parental death, Some discussions of internalized homophobia (please tell me if anything needs to be added)

Genre: High School AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Rivals/Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Fluff

A/N: I have to say,,, this has turned out to be much slower of a burn than I originally expected but oh well, the story will do what it wants. I am so happy and excited to continue working on it. I have found such a sweet and wonderful community through this silly story and I hope you all know just how much I appreciate each and every one of you. Love you all 🖤✨

Ao3    The Art of Love Masterpost    Fic Masterpost    Fic Request Info

A few hours and several hastily done homework assignments later, Glimmer sat across from her mother at the dinner table and quietly moved broccoli across her plate. It was her mom’s day off which meant they finally got the chance to spend time together. Unfortunately it also meant her mother felt obligated to cook dinner.

She glanced up to see her mother mirroring her actions, using her fork to bat at what Glimmer could only assume to be something that was- at one point or another- a vegetable.

Her mother wrinkled her nose as she looked up at Glimmer, “It’s not very good is it?”

Glimmer smiled, trying to lighten the blow, “It’s not... great, no.”  

Angella sighed, “Pizza again?”

“Well, I don’t know. This isn’t too inedible.”

She stuck her tongue out at Glimmer and laughed, “Stop teasing me! I’m trying my best!”

Her mother began moving to get up, presumably to order a pizza for the third week in a row, but Glimmer scrambled to get out of her chair first, “I’ll get it don’t worry!”

Glimmer had a hate/love relationship with having her mom finally home. She enjoyed being able to see her and rant about the stupid shit both of them had been forced to deal with. Their was a certain comfort in laughing until you’re crying with a person you know has the same sense of humor as you. On the flip side, that didn’t happen very often. At least, not anymore. It was far more common for Angella to laugh lightly, leaving Glimmer wondering where all the joy her mother used to hold had gone. She was tired. Work was hard and long and unpredictable; things would have been far easier if she wasn’t the only one bringing income into the household. Glimmer saw the stress it put on her mother- both physically and mentally- and wished she could do something to fix it all.

“Thank you, dear,” Glimmer could hear the relief in her mother’s voice and knew her legs must have been bothering her after standing on them all day.

“Yeah no problem, Mom,” Glimmer grabbed her phone off the kitchen counter and was about to dial the local pizza place when a notification flag caught her eye. The text came from a number unregistered in her contacts but she knew it well. Adora.

She could only see the first few words of the message:

Hey! I was wondering...

A thousand possible situations flashed across Glimmer’s mind- most of them revolving around the image of Elizabeth chattering away to Adora, casual as could be while she ripped apart Glimmer’s world.

And now Adora was texting her, probably asking why the hell Glimmer would ever possibly be foolish enough to crush on someone so out of her league. But she would never say anything like that; she would try to let Glimmer down easy. And it would hurt so much worse because Glimmer wouldn’t even have the comfort of hiding behind anger. It would all be soft words and sympathetic frowns and dull blades that did so much more damage than the one sweeping sword Glimmer wished Adora would reject her with, but knew she never would.

“Everything ok?” Angella called from the dining table, probably wondering why she hadn’t heard a sound when this was usually around the time Glimmer tried to sneak pineapple onto their order.

“Yeah, sorry! Got a little distracted!” Glimmer prayed her voice didn’t sound as strangled as felt in her throat.

“Well hurry up!! I’m hungry!”

Glimmer smiled at her mother’s playfully impatient tone before glaring down at the unopened notification.

She was tempted to throw her phone as far away from her as possible. Maybe into the garbage disposal at which time the switch would mysteriously flip on and the disposer would grind to life, ending all of Glimmer��s problems. On the other hand, she wanted pizza.

Glimmer paused for a second to think, bringing out all her customary mannerisms to do so- from chewing her lip to tapping her foot.

“Are you alright? Glimmer, is there really so much to be distracted by?”

Glimmer set her phone back on the counter face down and took a deep breath. She wasn’t ready to deal with whatever Adora was going to say. Or rather, had said and was now simply waiting for Glimmer to acknowledge. But Glimmer, in all her stubborn brilliance, decided she wasn’t going to acknowledge it. Not yet. Right now she was going to order some god damn pizza, attempt to sneak some pineapple onto it, and spend the rest of the night talking to her mom. The world owed her that much of a break.

She glanced over at her phone, its pastel rainbow case hardly representing the threat Glimmer felt it contained at the moment. All she had to do was was grab the phone and open the lock screen before she got a chance to read the message. Easy-peasy. She felt like a runner, coiled up at the starting line and ready to spring. She gave a small huff of a laugh. It’s just a text; you’re not trying to dodge bullets.

“Glimmer, what are you doing?”

“Yeah, Mom, sorry. I’m getting it now.”

“You’re not texting you friends are you?”

The irony very nearly got a legitimate laugh out of Glimmer, “No, Mom.”

She grabbed her phone, opened her lock with her thumbprint, and exhaled a breath she didn’t she had been holding. The message app held a red little bubble, trying to get her attention so she would answer the texts that had piled up since the last time she had checked. Glimmer knew at least four of them would be Bow, sending her memes. But one of them was Adora.

She shook her head. When it came down to it, she wanted pizza right now far more than she wanted any type of drama. Glimmer quickly pulled up her contacts, gave her usual order to one of the workers and walked back to the dining room; she left her phone in the kitchen.

Glimmer slid sideways into her chair, “So how was your day?”

Angella shrugged, “Pretty boring, really. Didn’t do much.”

“I mean that’s kinda the point of a day off,” Glimmer nodded as she spoke, trying to concentrate on the conversation instead of on the unopened message that waited for her on the kitchen counter. She felt guilty as her mind drifted away from what- no, who- she knew was more important. But it was like fighting an ocean’s tide; no matter how hard you grip the waves, they’re always going to pull away. And through her fingers, Glimmer’s attention would slip, always finding its way back to Adora.

It was beginning to be infuriating. The past few days had seemed completely centered around Adora. Every second Glimmer was getting a stomach ache over worrying about her or she was melting into some sad, pining puddle. Even when she managed to hold some composure, there was some nagging little feeling deep in the back of her mind that would eventually manage to bait and trap her focus. It was beginning to be ridiculous. This certainly wasn’t Glimmer’s first time having a crush, but she had never felt so trapped by her emotions before. It had never been this suffocating, so all-consuming. Anyways, she had more important things to be doing than daydreaming about something that was just that- a dream. But it was beginning to be unnerving. Because Glimmer didn’t know how to stop it.

“Hello there? Earth to Glimmer?”

“Hmm?” Glimmer snapped back to the present, scolding her mind for let her get so wrapped up in the middle of a conversation, “Hi. What were you saying?”

Her mom was smiling, “I was just asking how your day was, Miss Head in the Clouds.”

Glimmer pushed a smile onto her lips, “Oh, yeah I’m fine.”

Across the table, her mother’s eyebrows were pressed together, “You seem very tense.”

It was presented as a statement but Glimmer knew it was a question she was expected to answer.

“Really, I’m fine. I just have a big project right now and it’s... causing me some problems.” Well that’s not a lie.

“Oh?” Angella sat up a little, “What’s it on? What class is it for? What do you have to do?”

Her enthusiasm wasn’t contagious but it did hold a level of charm. Glimmer shook her head, “It’s not nearly as fun or exciting as you think it is. We just have to build a model of an element.”

“Wait is this for your chemistry class with that horrible teacher?” Glimmer’s mother jumped in, interrupting her with surprising passion, “What sort of problems are you having?”

Glimmer rolled her eyes, “Really, Mom, it’s no big deal. I’m... figuring it out, ok?”

Her mind flashed back to the time her mother had marched into the school’s front office- fuming and probably ready to physically fight someone- after Glimmer had complained about some idiots mocking her for being bi. It had been more infuriating than insulting or anything actually impactful. But Angella, in all of her attempts to be a supportive and protective mother, had decided to take matters into her own hands.

“And, uh, I don’t need any help.”

Her mother’s face fell in what Glimmer knew was disappointment, “Oh definitely. I’m sure you can handle it.”

“But if I need help, I’ll definitely tell you,” Glimmer tried.

Angella’s face brightened; it was nice to see her smile, “Ok!”

Silence settled between them. Angella let her eyes roam over Glimmer, studying her. It was obvious she was looking for something, mouth set and eyes slightly squinted. If anyone else had done it, Glimmer would have squirmed and snapped at them for even acknowledging her existence, let alone making her acknowledge it.

Glimmer just snorted though in response to her mother’s scrutiny, “Can I help you?”

Angella gave a tiny frown, “There’s something else going on. You have way too many thoughts floating around in your eyes for this just to be about a project.”

Glimmer shrugged and decided to focus on the easier subject of her plate instead of her mother. Her fork made a plink plink sound as she tapped it against the rim of her plate. It was almost funny to think she was so consumed by it all that apparently just her eyes gave it away. Just as strongly, it was disgusting to think she was so consumed by it, just her eyes gave it away. Even when she was trying to focus on something else, the thoughts in her head were loud enough to be heard by everyone around her.

Her mom’s frown deepened at Glimmer’s avoident answer, “Come on, what’s up?”

Glimmer looked up. Her mother’s warm brown eyes were searching her, concern written clearly on her face. It made a Glimmer wonder- if her mother was so easily readable- what her own face was displaying. What pining, sick to her stomach, completely hopeless novel she set down for people to see whenever they passed her.

Glimmer smiled sadly, if only for her mother’s beauty. She and Glimmer had dyed their hair together and the long pink strands drifted across her eyes and onto her shoulders. Her face was filled with determined warmth, trying to fix whatever was bothering Glimmer. But the creases between her eyebrows were far too deep and the frown on her face fit into place too comfortably. Glimmer didn’t want to add to those lines.

She waved her hand casually, “I’m just having some people problems.”

Her mother leaned forward, “What sort of people?”

Glimmer gave up. Maybe it would be better just to come clean, “Pretty people. There’s a girl in one of my classes that I kind of like.”

“Oh!” Glimmer couldn’t help but laugh at her mother’s genuinely surprised expression.

“What? You really thought my heart was so cold I couldn’t fall for someone?”

Angella opened and closed her mouth before speaking, “No, no it’s not that. That’s just not the type of problems you usually have. That’s almost, like, a normal problem.”

Glimmer rolled her eyes, “Wow, Mom, thanks. That’s not at all vaguely insulting.”

“That’s not what I meant! But that’s fun, isn’t it?” She had gained happy little light in her eyes and clapped her hands excitedly, “Tell me about her! Also a her? I mean, this is the first time you’ve told me about having a girl crush.”

Glimmer could feel her face flushing cherry red. There were so many open wounds her mother had bothered in just a few seconds of speech. Because, no, it wasn’t fun. It was overwhelming and terrifying and it had all hit so fast. It was like a tsunami- no warning and then boom the water was over Glimmer’s head and she was just struggling not to drown. And every time someone talked to her, they were assuming she was standing in the shallow end and just needed to remember how to swim. But swimming wasn’t going to help her now.

And it was intoxicating, all of her thoughts swarmed by emotions that buzzed and made it hard for any ideas to come through clearly. But it was addictive; she could let herself just float in that white noise for the rest of time. She could let herself sink beneath the waves and ignore her lungs as they screamed for air.

“Yeah,” Glimmer let the fork fall back to the plate and moved her hands to start fidgeting in her lap, “I think we’re both still getting used to the whole ‘girl’ thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, don’t you think it could be-“ Glimmer’s voice had risen in aggravation but cracked as she searched for a way to wrap all of her fears into one word, “Dangerous?”

“Glimmer, my darling, we live in a very accepting area- I know two whole lesbians at my job!! I think you’re overthinking it-“

Glimmer slammed the palm of her hand flat down on the tabletop, “Yes! I know! I do that! And people seem to think that telling me how ridiculous I’m acting will help! And guess what? It doesn’t. It doesn’t help in the slightest because maybe, just maybe, I’ll be right one of these days. Because the world sucks so why wouldn’t something else go wrong?!”

“I-“ Angella seemed speechless, marveling at the fury in Glimmer’s eyes. Glimmer sat stiffly and breathed heavily like she had just sprinted a mile. She dared her mother to challenge her.

Finally Glimmer was the one to give in, letting her posture collapse and the anger subside, “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve that. It’s just, I’m so tired of being different. I stand out so much already. I’m the kid who can’t do anything but art and I cry too easily and I’m the one whose dad died... I wish I didn’t have to add my sexuality to that list.”

“Oh, darling,” Her mother’s voice was soft and seemed to dissolve into pieces as it broke.

Glimmer realized that maybe she had taken it too far, gone too deep, “I’m sorry. Just ignore what I said.”

“No, if you want to talk-“

Glimmer attempted once again to change the tone, smile a little too forced and voice a little too loud, “So about this girl. Yes! She’s very pretty and smart and funny.”

Angella’s lips twitched into a frown, “You sound like you’re reading off a list. I can tell you’re just trying to avoid the subject, even though you are the one that brought it up.”

Glimmer shrugged and popped a vegetable into her mouth, regretting her actions as the taste hit her but thankful that she didn’t have to answer.

Her mother pursed her lips, “I don’t like you closing everything up from me but-“

The doorbell drilled from across the room and Glimmer jumped up, practically running away from the table, “Pizza’s here!”

She walked back into the room a minute later and set the box down with an exaggerated flourish. She let the performance drop with a grimace when she noticed the defeated look on her mother’s face.

She didn’t try to hide the sigh that escaped her, “What’s wrong, Mom?”

“I don’t know,” Angella shook her head, “I just feel like we haven’t been, I don’t know, connecting lately.”

Maybe that’s because you’re never home. Glimmer bit her tongue, immediately feeling guilty for the words that had very nearly jumped out of her mouth. You know she doesn’t get to choose when her shifts are. You know she works long hours for you. And maybe she would know more if you actually told her anything.

Glimmer reached to open the pizza box and grab a piece, buying time for her to fish for a more appropriate response in her mind. She wished she could just shrug again and brush the whole interrogation off her shoulders. But her mother had a look of soft pleading in her eyes that Glimmer knew was actually veiling steely stubbornness. There was no way she could win this.

She took a bite and chewed it slowly, all while keeping eye contact with her mother. It was a contest of wills at that point and they both knew it. But every possible strategy and escape route Glimmer could construct had twisted itself into a dead end.

“Well, I’m here now so... let’s ‘connect’ I guess,” The words felt weird and awkward as they left her mouth.

Angella leaned forward, grinning triumphantly, “How’s school been going? Have you started any new art projects? Also this girl- what’s so problematic about her?”

The last question caught Glimmer off guard, “I never said she was problematic. What makes you say that?”

Her mother gave a vague, noncommittal twitch to her lips before looking away and grabbing a slice off pizza for herself. Glimmer almost burst out laughing- She’s using my own tactics against me.

After a moment Angella spoke, “There just seems to be more going on; there’s something that’s bothering you right now. Did something happen today?”

Glimmer resolved to shredding the remaining crust in her hands to tiny pieces that she then threw at her plate. There were a thousand things her mother could have been picking up on, all the stray thoughts that bumping on the edges of her mind and dragged her off topic. But there was only one thought that took center stage; Elizabeth and whatever trouble she had no doubt already gotten Glimmer into.

The reminder of Adora’s text still waiting for her in the other room made Glimmer queasy. She felt like Adora was herself perched in the kitchen, patiently waiting for Glimmer to notice her. Glimmer could just see her sitting in the edge of the counter and swinging her legs out, probably looking far too cute than she had any right to given the danger she represented.

It was no wonder that her mother could tell something was up when Glimmer was practically squirming in her seat. Not that Glimmer would admit that. It was too close to the surface; one of those issues that caused her so much more pain because the wave could crest at any moment and the entire crisis would come crashing down her. It was the difference between slowly turning the shower temperature up bit by bit- yes, you might be aware of the damage in the back of your mind but it doesn’t really bother you- and simply thrusting your arm into a boiling pot of water.

Admitting to her discomfort would be admitting to the problem’s existence. She wasn’t ready to do that yet; wasn’t ready to take her arm out of the boiling water. Worst of all, she wasn’t ready to treat the inevitable burns.

The whole situation with Elizabeth was way too delicate to let her mother stomp into the scene. It was a white hot rod that twisted within her and kept her sitting stiffly as it ran the entire length of her torso. But it was like leaving a ticking bomb in the middle of the room and expecting her mom to ignore it.

Glimmer tapped the tongs of her fork against her throughly destroyed crust, occasionally stabbing into it.

Her mother blinked across at her, patient for an answer to the point of obstinance.

Glimmer gave her an awkward scowl, “Yeah, there’s just been some complications.”

Angella opened her mouth, obviously prepared to protest but Glimmer bolted up quickly, filling the room with the sound of her chair screeching against the floor before her mom could fill the space with any other sort of noise.

She grabbed her plate and rushed out of the room before she would have to admit to anything else- or have her body language admit it for her. She let the plate clatter as she hurriedly set it down in the sink and continued down the hall, moving in a straight line to nowhere in particular other than just away. Away from all the reminders. Away from her mother’s eyes that managed to pick her apart with just a glance. Away from those eyes that were too tired and too sad.

It wasn’t until she was half way down the hall that Glimmer realized she had taken her phone with her. She must have impulsively snatched it as she walked out of the kitchen. As much as she wished, it was too late to put it back.

Glimmer paused momentarily and stared down at the small device in her hand. It’s just a phone. It can’t actually hurt you. Even if Adora’s message is, you know, crushing and life ruining, it’s not like she can REALLY do anything to you. The voice of reason sounded flimsy and unsure if itself even to Glimmer- and she was the one creating it. Look loser, you’re gonna have to deal with it eventually.

That made more sense.

She stopped stalling and trudged into her room, careful not to slam the door to assure her mom that she wasn’t mad. Glimmer tripped her way over to her bed; her room was still a war zone of craft supplies from the night before.

Even that was a surreal experience. Part of Glimmer was still convinced none of it had ever happened, another part was sure it had occurred years ago. A final piece whispered that Adora taking up space in her room and her voice filling the house was the norm and Glimmer being by herself was the alien situation.

Glimmer flopped backwards onto her bed. She almost wondered if the soft impression Adora had left in the sheets was still there. She almost wondered if they had held onto that hyper-specific scent that Glimmer knew you could only notice if you sat right next to Adora- or if she had her arms wrapped around you. She almost closed her eyes and tried to pretend that Adora was still there and they still had a few hours until the morning and more clay to paint and time was still their’s to play with because they were just a couple of dumb teens trying to live their lives and sometimes that meant abandoning human constructs and dancing to Hozier. She almost did that. Almost. But she didn’t. She hadn’t fallen that far.

She stared up at her ceiling for a second. It was too bright in there with her lights on for the star stickers to glow. Instead they just sat there looking mildly dirty, just some dusty greenish yellow spots above her that could never measure up to the real thing.

Glimmer finally stopped procrastinating and raised her phone above her face so that she couldn’t see that sickly stars anymore- just the still darkened screen of what was surely her doom.

She took one last gulp of air and she tapped in her password. The message icon was bright green, but it might as have been dark indigo because Glimmer felt like she was diving into a bottomless ocean trench as she opened the app. Here goes nothing.