#...still have the old guidelines in mind which is why I took a screen in the side sit animation... missed opportunity

[wonwoosthetic]

Amour-Haine & Co. | Chapter 2 |

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 6.7k

"Our COO had a tough first two weeks, and I want to make it up to her."

"Dear Advertising, Web-Designing, and App Developing departments of Oksan & Co.,

From now on, I would like to ask you to direct any questions concerning our network, as well as project-related questions to one of our two CEOs, Jeon Wonwoo. Files can also be handed over to him, as he will be conducting and going through every single one, to make sure the three new merged companies can work to the best of their abilities. We are looking forward to a good and friendly work environment and healthy and happy work-based relationships.

Yours sincerely,

COO Yoon (Y/N)"

This was the email you had sent out to the employees of the company last Friday, making it the last thing on your To-Do list before you had left the building. From Wednesday to Friday, you had let the staff come in and out of your office, leaving files and binders behind, asking you questions you didn't even know the answers to, as well as complaining about other co-workers. You waited for the end of the week to inform all employees about the new guidelines, that the CEO didn't know of... yet. Thankfully, Jeon Wonwoo and his new IT team hadn't fully yet figured out the old network your father and his workers had built up, therefore still giving you access to the email account of the CEO, which you used gladly.

Your action got you to sleep peacefully, and enjoy the weekend as much as you possibly could, also being the reason why you entered the office with a smile on your face on Monday.

On your way to your room, you passed other employees and greeted them with a bright smile. Walking through the hallways until you reached your office, the calming thought of knowing you wouldn't have to go through any kinds of files you didn't have any knowledge about didn't leave your mind.

As soon as you reached your desk, you shrugged the bag off your shoulder and threw yourself onto the rolling chair. You unknowingly started humming while turning on the computer, finding comfort in knowing no one was going to barge into your office. Before you could start your relaxed workday, a knock on the door stopped you,

"Good morning," Jisoo's cheerful voice rang through your ear, making you smile,

"Morning!"

He crossed the floor until he reached your desk and took a seat in one of the chairs in front of it, looking at you with a smirk. You were typing in the password to get into your computer as you noticed him staring, "Hm?" you wondered, your eyes not leaving the screen.

"You really are something else, you know?"

You let your glance shift over to him, looked at him with raised eyebrows, "What?" and chuckled. He copied your facial expression and leaned forward,

"You're just gonna direct everything you've done to our boss?"

You leaned back, a smirk plastered on your lips, "Tit for tat."

"He's not just gonna let it slide that easily, you're well aware of that, right?" Jisoo worried for you. He had seen the state you had been in throughout the entire week before, and he was not going to let you go through something like that again.

A heavy breath left your lips. You knew it may not have been professional, but did you care? No. No, not really, if you were completely honest with yourself. Because neither was it professional what Jeon Wonwoo was doing with you and your position within the company. And there was no one you could talk to about it who could potentially change that man's mind. So, this would do for the time being.

"Like I said, I'm ready. I don't care what he's gonna do," you propped yourself back up in the chair, "I'm not backing down that easily."

Jisoo pushed himself up onto his feet, ready to leave your office again, to continue his actual job, that you sometimes forgot wasn't chatting with you,

"I always liked that about you." And he left with a smile.

-

The day went on to be unsurprisingly quiet, as you didn't get interrupted while answering some work-related emails that had made their way into your inbox. After the merging of Oksan Inc., Vortex & Co., and Goyang & Co., other companies had started becoming interested in potentially investing or working with Oksan & Co..

It seemed like the decision made by your father had attracted a lot of other CEOs, which you were thankful for, but for all the wrong reasons. You had to push your pride away and actually focus on the companies well-being, which resulted in you accepting more offers than your humane heart would have ever wanted you to - but you had to separate your work persona from your private one, and thank god you had always been good at that.

The sound of your voice interrupted the work process you had going on. Without drawing your eyes away from the screen, reading another mail, you reached to your right, getting a holt of your phone. After turning it around, you found Jisoo's contact name right at the top with a short message underneath:

Jisoo:

Cafeteria in 5 minutes! :)

Reminding you of the fact that it was already 1 pm and you had had the possibility of starting your lunch at 12, but got distracted by the computer in front of you. You decided to finish the last paragraph you had to read and got up right after, three minutes later. As you were getting your things together, putting all the important stuff you wouldn't want to leave unattended into your bag, a deep voice made you look up,

"We are looking forward to a good and friendly work environment and healthy and happy work-based relationships?" Letting the last sentence of the email you had sent out sound like a question. "We are?" Jeon Wonwoo wondered with one raised eyebrow, looking at you as he kept on standing in the door.

"Yes, we are." You simply stated, already done with packing your bag and ready to leave, but the man didn't let you go that easily.

He nodded slowly, taking big steps into your office, making you sigh, as his eyes found the floor, "I don't know if I would call the COO letting the CEO do all the work a happy and healthy work-based relationship." As the last word fell from his lips, Jeon Wonwoo raised his head, daring to stare into your eyes that hadn't left his form the moment he had appeared.

You shrugged your shoulders and threw the bag over your shoulder, "I'm happy and healthy because of it." And left the room after sending him one last smile, leaving him standing with a smirk while his eyes followed your moving silhouette.

On your way to the elevator, your phone let you know about another message that had just come in.

Jisoo:

You coming?

You quickly replied with a 'Yep' and pushed the button to go downstairs.

Walking into the big open space, you found the man waving at you quickly. You walked over to the table and were about to open your mouth when he beat you to it, "Where the hell have you been, loca?" Making you stop in your tracks, right in front of him.

"I can go back," you warned him, knowing he knew how much you cringed at the quote, getting a chuckle from him in response and him raising his hands in defence, "Sorry, sorry, sorry," he laughed, "Sit. Please." And with a smile, you did just so.

"But seriously," he started again, "Usually, you're here before me."

You placed the bag on the ground and grabbed the fork from the plate that Jisoo had placed pre your arrival, already knowing your usual order,

"Jeon Wonwoo visited me." You simply answered and took the first bite.

The man in front of you slightly choked on the coke he was drinking and quickly put it down, "H-He visited you? What did he say?"

You shook your head, "Nothing important... just wanted to analyse my email, I guess."

After a comfortable meal and chat with your co-worker, you made it back to the elevator, already being 10 minutes late than you should be. As the both of you were waiting for the metal doors to open, a figure appeared next to you, "Good afternoon, Miss Yoon."

You turned your head to the left and had to look up slightly, even though you were wearing heels, and found the face of Kim Mingyu just as he also greeted Jisoo to your right.

"Good afternoon, Mister Kim," you sent him a kind smile and thanked whoever was up there the moment the elevator finally arrived. The tall man put his arm out, motioning for you to step in first, which you thanked him for with a nod, and followed after the other male had also entered.

Never had an elevator ride felt as long as this one did, but apparently, the CEO knew how to small-talk.

"I must say," he fixed his tie with his free hand that wasn't holding the briefcase, "I'm quite offended."

Jisoo's and your head snapped to look at him, "Sorry?" You wondered, eyebrows raised.

A chuckle left Kim Mingyu's lips, "You trust Wonwoo more than me? With all the work?"

Referring to your email, in which you had asked the employees to direct any questions and files to Jeon Wonwoo, the CEO. You didn't mention the co-CEO Kim Mingyu...

You let out a heavy breath, smiling at the light-hearted comment coming from the man to your right, delighted at the humour he had used. "With all due respect, it's most definitely not because I trust him more than you. I... just thought you might already have a lot to do on your own since the entire lower floor is yours, Sir. Mister Jeon seemed a bit bored to me, if I may say so."

He chuckled, "Yes, you may say so. But you may also drop the formalities," and reached his hand out for you to take, "Mingyu." Your eyes drifted down, only to shoot back up and find his kind eyes already looking at you. Jisoo... seemed to may have been right... he was not the one you should be hating on because he was not making you feel miserable.

"Y/N," you smiled back at him and shook his hand, slightly surprised at the tightness of his grip.

The 'ding' of the elevator made the two of you break eye contact, and Mingyu was the first to let go, "Well then," he nodded, "Nice to see you again, Y/N," before addressing the man behind you as well, "Have a good day, Mister Hong." As he exited the small room, your guys' pairs of eyes followed his figure, watching him as he disappeared around the corner. You leaned back on the railing on the wall when Jisoo's head turned towards you, looking at you with wide eyes, "See you again?!" He wondered in a loud voice once the doors had closed.

Your eyes found his, quickly realising what was going through the man's mind, "Not like that!" You stopped him, "We met in my apartment complex last week," and continued your story while both of you walked out to enter the advertisement office floor again, "He said his sister lives there."

"And I thought you already had him wrapped around your fingers..." Jisoo sighed, "I was so excited..."

You chuckled at his comment, always delighted to hear about the person he would tell you you could be.

"But!" He startled you suddenly, "It's never too late," stopping at his office space that he shared with other employees, giving you a smirk.

"No," you shut him down, "No, stop." Not even wanting to know about his mind drifting off to whatever fantasy he had created in his mind for your future. He had a wild life and a wild mind, as you had found out throughout the years of knowing him. Once he started laughing, you couldn't help but join in, getting affected by the sound. But your fun got quickly interrupted by a stern voice coming from beside you,

"I'm not paying you to chat and laugh." Jeon Wonwoo suddenly appeared, noticing the two of you were not in your usual position of working. While Jisoo changed his attitude immediately, bowing and apologizing to his boss, you turned to the side, seeing he had already passed you but was still close enough.

"But you're not paying us at all yet," referring to the fact that he had taken over your father's company in the middle of the month, meaning that your next paycheck would still be in the name of the former CEO, therefore was HE not paying you just yet. Your statement made him turn around and find the bright smile that you sent him, tilting your head in a sarcastically cute manner.

Jeon Wonwoo made his way back, taking slow, yet big steps to approach you, "You want to discuss that in my office, Miss Yoon?" With his hands hidden in his pockets, he stopped right in front of you, not daring to look away from your glance.

You crossed your arms, trying your best to get intimidated by the taller man almost hovering over you, "A CEO should be able to accept when he's in the wrong and gets corrected by the COO."

A slight smirk made its way onto the man's lips, "Oh, I do accept and understand it," looking down before finding your eyes again, "But I don't think you know that I still haven't signed the final contracts about your paychecks yet. One small change and your earnings will be a lot less than before."

"You can't do that," you scuffed at his threat.

"I can do a lot more than you realise," he continued with his warning voice, "But," and chuckled, "My bad... how would you know."

That freaking bastard.

That motherf-

He knew exactly he had hit a soft spot with that statement. With that smirk that wouldn't leave his lips and the hands that were casually resting in his pockets... he knew it. And god, did you hate him for it.

After one last squint and glare, you brushed past him quickly, making sure to bump shoulders with him as you did, but it didn't even make him stumble like you hoped it would - and that just made you even madder. Passing the other offices, you were happy once you had finally reached yours again but stopped in your tracks as soon as you had walked in. It was not most definitely not in the state you had left it in.

The desk that you remembered being pretty much empty was once again filled with folders, from thin to big, in all types of colours, as well as empty black and grey ones. Thank god, you had just gotten past that time of the month, because if not... this would have been your last straw.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath but before you could even open them again,

"You really thought I was just going to let it slide like that?" That deep voice was going to haunt you even in your dreams. You could try to avoid it... it wouldn't work, you knew that.

You turned around, only then noticing how close he was to you, making you take a few small steps back, "Hire a fucking assistant to do your shit," you hissed at him without hesitation.

He entered your office, crossed the room and let himself down on the couch with a coffee table in front of it, "That is neither my shit nor would it be the job of an assistant," pronouncing the swearword you had used particularly sharp after he had told you to watch your language when talking to the CEO.

"Then I'm going to hire one," you simply stated, walking over to the desk and placing your bag on top of the mountain of paper, cardboard, and plastic.

Jeon Wonwoo chuckled at your comment, "Just so I can fire them again?" Making you roll your eyes and let out a heavy breath. He stood up with a smack of his lips and started roaming the room slowly, "I'm gonna assume you haven't realised it yet... even though you appear to be quite smart," he spoke the later part softly, "So I'm just gonna tell you this straight up," before looking you dead in the eyes, "Don't try to win. Just... don't. Because you won't." He came closer to the desk that was separating the two of you, "No matter what you even plan on doing... I'm already at least five steps ahead of you. Whatever you're going to try to do... I will be able to fight back," his eyes scanned the room, noticing you weren't going to interrupt him, before continuing, "I don't know what you're trying to prove here. Or... more like who you're trying to prove it to. But it won't work." With a smile, he ended his speech, "So stop unless you want to lose your job."

As much as his words had left you speechless, you weren't raised to let yourself get put down by some young wannabe entrepreneur, "You can't fire me." Fuck... your voice was shakier than you expected it to be.

Jeon Wonwoo chuckled, "I actually can-"

"I built this company!" You interrupted him with your raised voice, filled with anger and frustration, "I was the one to send out email after email, trying to get some kind of fucking sponsor! I was the one who studied every little thing about what it actually means to have a company instead of just getting the random idea of wanting to have one! I looked for employees to help us out even though we wouldn't be able to pay them much! And now I, as the COO, can do so much more than you know, and I can't be fired!"

"Maybe in the old company," the man seemed unfazed by your outburst, deciding to use an annoying calm tone, "With the new one came new contracts. The one you signed last week? Written by me. I should probably let you read through what you actually signed in your moment of rage." With one last sarcastic facial, the CEO turned his back to you, leaving you unable to talk back as you were able to just stand there in shock. He was right. In the old company, you had always known that the person in the position of COO wasn't able to get fired. Why? You never questioned it. But now... Jeon Wonwoo, in the new position of the owner of the company, had the right to change anything he wanted to change - and so he apparently also did with the contracts. You cursed your past self for not reading through those papers. A mistake you would normally never do, but you had let your anger take over you and your mind...

As you thought he had already left your office, his voice ringing through your ear once again, told you otherwise, "Before considering firing you... maybe I should ask Mister Yoon how to deal with you..." he wondered out loud. How dare he mention his name. You and your father had never had the best relationship. Even though you had worked for him, he never acknowledged the work you were doing for him but was the perfect example of a gaslighting parent, that took your work and credited it as his own, letting the light shine on him.

"Get out," you spat out, ready to cry once that bastard had left your office, but he just continued looking at you, tilting his head slightly pressing his lips together, unhappy with the choice of your words. As much as you would have to respect him, you couldn't at that moment, "Get out before I throw something at you." You warned him one last time, making him squint his eyes, "Mm..." and turn around, "Doesn't sound like employee of the month to me."

-

"How long has she been lying here like that?"

"I don't know... I came in like thirty minutes ago and passed her office."

"She looks dead."

"What? You think so? Oh god... imagine if work actually kills you."

"I'm not dead, idiots."

The two men screeched and jumped, holding onto each other as they both looked at you wide-eyed. You rubbed your eyes and tried straightening your back but quickly realised that would take longer than expected, thanks to your incredibly uncomfortable position on the carpet.

"You looked like a corpse. Are you kidding me?!" Jisoo raised his voice, filled with concern.

With a heavy breath and the strength you had left in your arms, you managed to push yourself up, sitting with your legs crossed underneath you.

Mingyu looked at you with scrunched eyebrows, "Did you sleep here?" His voice made you look up and sigh,

"Sorry for calling you an idiot, I didn't realise it was you." Remembering the somewhat good terms you were on with the co-CEO.

"It's alright," he chuckled, sitting down on the sofa right next to you, picking up one of the files that surrounded you. Yes, yes you did fall asleep at your workplace. And who was to blame? You can answer that question yourself.

After yesterday's conversation, you had to admit, you got slightly intimidated, knowing that you didn't have as much power as the previous COO had - not even as much power as you had as the President... So yes, you did feel threatened, but it didn't mean you were going to give in as easily as he had probably hoped you would. Again, you were raised differently, had to deal with all kinds of difficult people throughout your life... Jeon Wonwoo was just another one of them.

As Mingyu's fingers turned page after page, his eyes raking over each line they held, he got confused, "You know about HTML and coding?"

With Jisoo's help, you were standing on both of your feet and got to straighten down your hair and clothes, "No," you simply stated, picking up the files you had managed to go through and putting them back on your desk. Last night, you thought it was a good idea to change your position from sitting at your desk to making yourself comfortable on the floor.

"Why do you have these then?" He wondered, getting up to help you.

"Ask your bastard of CEO," with the annoyed undertone of your voice, he knew not to bother you more and decided to let it slide, but definitely not forget about it completely.

You were thankful for it, but Jisoo had a different idea, "He's been giving her all kinds of stuff that she has no idea about. You should have seen the files from last week-" one stern look by you made him shut up quickly. As thankful as you were to have that man by your side, and it looked like Mingyu wasn't too bad of a person to have around either, you still didn't want to dwell on something you were able to/wanted to deal with yourself.

"Alright," the tallest one in the room spoke up after helping you with the folders, "You," he pointed at you, "Go home and get some sleep. Proper sleep." He quickly added, noticing you were about to interrupt him.

"No," you began shaking your head and pushed back the bag he was trying to hand you, "These stupid folders are just gonna get more and more. I want them to be done as soon as possible."

"And I'm gonna deal with them," after dealing with Wonwoo, he added in his mind. "Please, don't worry about them. Get some rest. You've worked hard enough." But as much as he kept on talking, you continued shaking your head, making him frustrated, "My driver's still downstairs, do you want him to drive you?"

"What? No! No!" You quickly stopped him, waving your hands, "You have a driver? Of course, you have a driver...," with a hand on your forehead, you tried to get your thoughts ordered again, "No, no... I have my car..."

Mingyu was still standing next to you, arms reaching out to you with his hands grasping the handles of your bag, "Then go," he nodded towards the door, "Come on."

"(Y/N), go," Jisoo assured her. You had thrown yourself onto the chair, now sighing, unsure of what to do. Looking up to your left, the co-CEO nodded at you with a smile, wiggling with your bag.

After another second passed with you thinking about the possible consequences, you stood up and snatched the bag out of the man's grasp, the tired expression not leaving your face.

"Go and get some rest. Don't worry about this," Mingyu pointed to the folders spread over the entirety of your desk's top. With another sigh, a nod, and a quiet "Good night," you left the office, not caring about saying goodbye to anyone else.

"What are we gonna do with that now?" Jisoo wondered, motioning towards the table once he was sure you couldn't hear them anymore.

The co-CEO shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know," and looked ahead through the glass, trying to spy into the other office that was empty and would be for the next few hours, "But I know who does."

-

Five folders, filled fully with paper, heavy in Mingyu's arms, got dropped onto Wonwoo's desk without a warning, startling the man who was leaning back in his chair, focused on his phone,

"What the fu-?!"

The man in front of the CEO leaned forward, resting his hand on the top of the desk, "I should be asking you that. What the fuck are you doing?!" He was enraged, Wonwoo could tell. He raised his eyebrows, letting his friend know to continue, "With (Y/N). You're trying to drown her in these?" Grabbing one heavy cardboard folder before dropping it again.

The older man crossed his arms and leaned back slightly more, "What? You're on first-name basis with her now?"

Mingyu scuffed, "Jesus Christ... Don't change the subject. What are you trying to do? Huh? Only a week into this, and you're already acting like an asshole?"

Wonwoo took a deep breath and stood up, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt, "This isn't something you should bother yourself with. Alright?"

"But I am bothering myself with it," Mingyu stood his ground, his eyes following the other man's frame, "She's the only COO of this company."

"Exactly. The only one. Obviously, she's gonna have a lot to do," the older one crossed his arms, not giving in and not planning on doing so.

The taller man rolled his eyes and sighed, clearly annoyed by his friend's attitude, "You know that's not the fucking work a COO should do. That's employee stuff. More importantly MY employees' stuff. None of this should even bother her. She's in advertising, not programming." He tried explaining the right point of view of the situation even though he could feel the passive energy coming from the CEO. They've been friends long enough - he could tell when he was talking to a wall instead of his best friend.

"Being a CEO is even more work" Wonwoo stated, "And you heard her," he pointed at Mingyu, "She wanted the title. She thought she could lead an entire company," with big steps, he continued roaming the room, "How could she ever do that if she can't even handle a bit of paperwork? A CEO has to know about E-V-E-R-Y-THING that goes on in his company-"

"So that's it?" The younger man's face held a shocked expression, "You're just trying to show her how much she doesn't deserve that title?!" He turned his face away, not wanting to look at his friend anymore, "Jeez... alright, do whatever the fuck you think is right, but just know if you continue treating our only COO like shit, I'm gonna start acting on it. You're better than that..."

"What do you think you're gonna do? She works on my floor. You go and handle your own one downstairs," Wonwoo started using his deeper threatening voice, not daring to back off.

"I'm still co-CEO," Mingyu simply answered, "And she's taking the rest of the week off." He finished before storming out of the room, with the oldest of the two cursing under his breath,

"Yeah... go and decide that for your little girlfriend..."

-

"Good morning, m'lady," a loud familiar voice made you look up from your phone, your eyes widening at the sight of him,

"What the hell are you doing here?" Seeing Mingyu at 9 in the morning in front of your apartment complex was definitely not something you were expecting. But there he stood. With a coffee shop paper cup in one hand, while the other was holding the door to the passenger side of a black car open. He nodded his head for you to come closer, a bright smile plastered on his face. You were still unsure of the situation, therefore squinted your eyes and took slow steps forward, which the co-CEO obviously seemed to not like,

"Hurry up, the coffee's gonna get cold."

With five quick steps, you were standing in front of him as close as comfortably possible, "Why are you here?" You truly were confused as hell. Ever since the text message from him last Tuesday, god knows where he had gotten your number from- probably Jisoo, you realised, you hadn't talked or seen him. He had told you to stay at home for the rest of the week and not even dare to come into the office, making you worried about the state of the floors, immediately thinking of the worst like a fire or... something as bad as a fire... you just weren't sure what exactly.

"Well," Mingyu started, getting a hold of your free hand and placing the coffee in it as he pushed you gently towards the car, "Our COO had a tough first two weeks, and I want to make it up to her."

"Mingyu-" you started, but he stopped you,

"No. Get in," quickly realising that it sounded slightly wrong after he noticed your facial expression changing, "Please?" You chuckled and did as you were told, earning yourself a smile from the giant puppy man as he put his hand on the rim of the hood, in case you were to bump your head and closed the door as soon as you were sitting comfortably.

"So?" You started once he had been driving for a bit, apparently not feeling the need to start a conversation.

"So?" Mingyu teasingly repeated, looking at you with big eyes and a smile on his lips.

"What is this?" Motioning all around you, still not fully understanding what he was trying to do here. He could have just answered you. He could have, yes. But he didn't want to,

"That," he pointed at the cup in your hands, "Is a hot white Mocca with two extra pumps of-"

"Mingyu," you let your stern voice out, surprising him slightly, taken aback by your sudden change in sound.

He sighed, turning right, "I told you. You had a tough first two weeks. As a COO you shouldn't have to do all of those things, that's not your job."

"And it's not your job to make up for it," you corrected him, trying to make him understand that as much as you hated him two weeks ago, you had to admit that you had been in the wrong with the type of person you thought he was.

Mingyu chuckled with a sad undertone, "What? You think Wonwoo's gonna do it?"

You scuffed loudly, letting him know about the ridiculousness of his statement, "Pfff, no! I'm not expecting anything from him. What can you expect from an asshole?" Adding the last question rhetorically.

The co-CEO sent you a shocked facial expression, "Ooh..." but started cackling once you reacted to it,

"You're gonna lecture me about my use of words too now?!"

"No," he laughed, "That's Wonwoo's thing... even though that man curses more than me probably." Making you chuckle.

After spending a few minutes in silence, looking around the car and drinking your coffee, you realised something, interrupting the quietness, "I thought you said you had a driver."

"I do," he answered quickly, attentive to every word you were saying, "Well... the company does. He's Wonwoo's and my driver. I prefer driving on my own though," he explained, turning the wheel with one hand to enter the parking garage of the office building, "BUT I have to admit... having a driver does have its perks when you're drunk or hungover."

You started giggling and nodding your head, "Of course."

Once the car came to a stop, Mingyu was quick to turn off the car, take off his seatbelt, and sprint over to the passenger side, opening the door for you while you were trying to get your bag to stay on your shoulder. You looked up, perplexed at the gesture, "You don't have to do that, you know," referring to him holding the doors open for you as well as reaching his hand out for you to get out of the seat easier. The man looked at you with scrunched eyebrows, opening the door behind your to get his briefcase from the backseat, "Wow," he sighed, "You're really not letting a man do anything nice for you."

Your mouth hung open slightly. How dare he assu- well... he wasn't wrong. Your experiences with men of all kinds hadn't been the best.

"My bad," you exaggerated your apology, not only with the tone of your voice but also by bowing, letting your head almost reach the floor, making him laugh out loud and pull you back up, getting a laugh from you as well. The sharing of your good mood was quickly interrupted by someone clearing their throat behind you. Turning around, you came to sight with one of the men you hadn't had the best experiences with,

"Morning," he greeted, more so only his friend after giving you a head nod that you reciprocated. The taller man turned to you, seeing you welcoming the CEO as well, before turning back to his friend, "Hey."

Without exchanging another word, the three of you started making your way to the elevator that would get up upstairs. Let the awkward silence begin...

Deciding you wanted to avoid it as much as possible, you started taking quick steps, overtaking both men with their long-ass legs. Mingyu noticed it and was about to catch up with you, but a hand on his arm stopped him and pulled him back,

"You're her personal driver now?" Wonwoo wondered, not expecting the two of you to show up together.

He shrugged the grip off and huffed, "Jesus, calm down. I'm trying to make better what you messed up."

"She messed it up herself," the CEO snapped back in a quiet but stern voice.

Mingyu scuffed, "Alright," rolled his eyes and caught up with you before you could enter the elevator on your own.

-

Ever since the elevator ride, with Mingyu alone, thank god, you had been stuck in your office room, once again, sending out work emails as well as creating new schedules for the entire company, instead of only the advertising department. The last week gave you time to think. And damn, did you use it. After the "talk" well... more of a discussion or whatever, the words from Jeon Wonwoo's lips didn't leave your mind. You weren't able to just shake them off. No, not the words that created the name of your father, but the words that let you know that with one wrong action, gesture, or statement, you could be jobless within a second. There was nothing else you could do then to get yourself together and work like you've never worked before. You still would not accept any shit thrown at you, even from the CEO, but maybe you should tone it down with... specific words you had used before... or very expressive gestures you had made. Let's see how long that would last. But you had promised yourself to try.

Well, this was your job, after all. And there was no other option than for you to just WORK. 'You don't have to like him and he doesn't have to like you,' you had told yourself, 'But you have to show him the respect he doesn't deserve and fight passively against him instead of actively. Don't let him notice what you're trying to do.' If only you were as smooth as you had thought you were.

"Miss Yoon," a voice coming from the door made you look up, finding the familiar pair of eyes of an employee you had known for a longer time, "We need you in meeting room 2." You were confused at first, but after taking a look at the clock, you realised it was already 3pm, reminding you of the meeting that was mentioned in the last email you had received Friday night.

"Oh," you shot up from your chair and quickly collected the most important papers and something to write with, "Yes, sorry."

With hasty steps, you followed him into the other room, in which other employees and Jeon Wonwoo were already waiting. No Kim Mingyu in sight whatsoever.

"I'm sorry, I'm late," you excused yourself with a bow before taking a seat in the empty chair, reserved for you, across from the CEO.

"You're forgetting about meetings," he stated. Maybe it was supposed to be a question, but it sure didn't sound like one. You rose your head up to look at him, fiddling with the pen between your fingers,

"Finding interns for your company might be a bit more important, don't you think?"

"I didn't ask you to find new interns," he kept his glance on you, clearly trying to intimidate you, but you just shrugged your shoulders, "Well." Before turning to the employee standing in front of the projected picture on the wall and sending him a kind smile, for him to begin.

Already only 2 minutes into his presentation, you noticed how big of a mistake it was to even let him start... this clearly wasn't a project idea for the advertising department, so what the hell were you doing there. Also, as for one, he had no idea what he was talking about, you, thanks to the files you had had to put in an order and summarize, knew more about what he was trying to explain, and two, you hadn't ever seen him before. You sighed, lowered your head, and started writing down all the things you noticed about not only his idea per se but also about him as a presenter - like his posture, his way of speech, mimics, gestures, etc.

As much as you tried to focus on him, you couldn't. You really couldn't. Which made you start thinking about one of the ideas you had had a few months back but never got to present, thanks to the CEO that your father was.

Wonwoo looked up at the sound of a heavy breath falling from your lips, but his eyes quickly drifted down to what you were scribbling, being able to make out some sketches as well as words. He had noticed you hadn't been giving much attention to the presenter, and was about to speak up, but decided against it once he saw you working on your own idea, most definitely for your department rather than the app development one, like the man in front of you.

The presentation wasn't good. It wasn't even close. He didn't know who that guy was, probably someone from advertising he had never crossed paths with in the office, who wanted to give programming a go. But for somebody working in that department, he was worst than anyone from the web design floor down below would be, in presenting the same idea even though they also have almost no knowledge in it.

He didn't even try to focus, already knowing he wouldn’t do so anyways, therefore letting his eyes not leave your paper, covered in scribbles and drawings of black ink. Whatever you were thinking about could only be better than what everyone else in the room had to listen to. That was for sure.

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Taglist: @nctxtrash @leicy0756 @hoe4wonwoo @whiteprincessofnohr @nothingbutadeadesceane

[sohotthateveryonedied]

Gender? In THIS Economy?

Read here on AO3!

Summary:

Duke is questioning stuff and goes to Tim for advice. (feat. trans!Tim and nonbinary!Duke)

“Here you go. One Batburger with extra pickles, extra onions, and extra extra mayonnaise.” Duke drops the paper takeout bag unceremoniously into Tim’s lap. “Your taste buds need a tune-up, bro.”

Tim unwraps his burger and takes a bite. Batburger may be questionable when it comes to copyright laws, but damn if they don’t pile on the condiments better than any fast food restaurant in Gotham. “Sounds to me like you simply haven’t reached the sky-scraping level of enlightenment that I have, grasshopper.”

“Enlightenment would have been going to Red Robin and using your uniform to get a discount,” Duke says. He sits beside Tim on the rooftop’s edge, their legs dangling side by side a hundred feet above Gotham’s plunging gray streets. He digs into his own burger and makes a face. “Enlightenment would also be getting the Robin Nuggets next time. This tastes like dried leather.”

“I like it,” Tim says with a shrug. “It has personality.”

“So does raw sewage, but you don’t see me eating that.”

Tim concedes the point. His communicator buzzes in his belt. He checks the screen and discovers an alert from Cass composed entirely of clown emojis and red harlequin diamonds.

Duke notices. “Should we get that?”

Tim pockets the communicator. “Nah, Spoiler’s got it. We have time to relax.” And he’s not about to pass up quality time with the one little brother who doesn’t hate him. It’s hard enough as it is for Tim and Duke to find the time, what with them being on opposite sleeping schedules and work snatching their attention away with grabby, toddler-sized hands.

“Don’t get a lot of that during the day shift,” Duke says. “Every time an alarm goes off, it’s my business.”

Tim knocks him in the side with his elbow. “That’s what you get for turning to the light side instead of kicking it in the shadows with us. More employees to go around.” He sips his soda for a moment. “Why did you come out tonight, anyway? I thought you stayed in on weeknights.”

“Right. I actually wanted to talk to you about something.” Duke says it carefully, like he’s testing the waters. “I need advice.”

Tim has to admit that his chest puffs out a little at that. It’s not often people come to him for advice when Dick and Barbara are right there, all full of adult wisdom that Tim is too pitifully shrimpy to possess. “What’s up?”

“It’s kind of...personal.”

“Yes, Bruce does have special powder for suit-chafing. It’s in the cabinet under the first-aid supplies.”

“It’s not that,” Duke says, though he snorts in half-hearted laughter. He looks down at his hands like he’s dreading the words lodged in his throat. “What was it like, realizing you were a dude?”

One of Tim’s eyebrows shoots up. “Oh.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It’s an invasive question.”

“No, no, it’s fine. You just caught me off guard, is all.” It’s not like this is the first time someone has asked. Tim used to be uncomfortable talking about it, but he’s grown up since then. Talking about his trans journey is as normal as talking about what he did yesterday. He eats a fry. “What do you want to know?”

Duke searches Tim’s face for a sign that he’s lying, that he should back off. When he doesn’t find one, he asks, “How old were you when you figured it out?”

Tim thinks back. “Nine, I think? But even before that, it’s not like I ever really felt like a girl. I knew there was something wrong, but I didn’t know what. When I first heard about what being transgender meant, everything I’d been feeling until then clicked into place.”

“What was it like?” Duke asks, “growing up the way you did? Presenting as a girl when you knew you weren’t?”

Tim shrugs. “I don’t know. It was life at the time. I dealt with it.”

“Was it hard? Pretending to be something you weren’t?”

Tim doesn’t know what answer Duke is looking for, or why he’s so interested, but he won’t ask. “My parents always had this idea of me being the perfect daughter, all obedient and graceful and crap. I’m pretty sure their hope was to eventually marry me off to the highest bidder so they could reap the business benefits.”

“That sounds awful.”

Tim shrugs again. “I didn’t start feeling any different than I should have until around six or seven. I was always a tomboy. I liked doing boy stuff and playing sports, but my parents thought it was a phase I would grow out of. They’d make me wear dresses and go to fancy parties with them, all the while I just wanted to claw my skin off and go home.”

He remembers the nights he would lie awake in bed, imagining what it must be like to have been born someone else. Anyone else. To grow up as a little boy who was allowed to run around, to get dirty, to be himself instead of following some arbitrary guidelines someone else drew up the day he was born. He imagined what it would feel like to answer to a different name than the one he’d been given, which grated on his ears the longer time went on, like an itchy sweater he couldn’t shed. It was hell.

He gives Duke a sly grin. “But the upside of having absent parents is that there aren’t as many people watching you. No one cared if I went to school in the boy’s uniform instead of the girl’s. No one was there to stop me from cutting my hair short the way I wanted it.”

Duke's eyes widen. “You cut your own hair?”

“It went exactly the way you’re thinking. I had to go to the barber the next day and have them fix it because it was so uneven. But by the end of the day, it was the way I always imagined it. I was finally starting to look like the person I wanted to be.”

Duke stares intently at the remains of his burger as if the universe’s answers to an unspoken question were written in sesame seeds. “Did it get better after that? Did you feel...at peace?”

“‘Course not. The world wasn’t magically fixed just because I took a step in the right direction. My problems didn’t go away.” When he says that, Duke looks almost...disappointed? “But,” Tim adds, “it was better than it was before. I still had to act for my parents and the rest of the world, but I didn’t have to hide from myself anymore.”

“How did your parents react when they found out?”

Tim grimaces. “They...didn’t take it well.” He can still hear his father’s voice in his memories, bringing up therapy and camps and whatever places he could think of that would “fix” his little girl.

“But, after a while,” Tim continues, “it was clear that I wasn’t going to change my mind anytime soon. I guess they figured it would be easier to go along with it than fight me every step of the way. They still didn’t like it, but they tolerated it.”

Duke is quiet.

“Why do you ask?” Tim prods.

Duke’s expression doesn’t give anything away. It’s nights like this when Tim can see how perfectly Duke fits into this mental institution they call a family. For all that Duke thrives in the light, he keeps his cards just as close to his chest as the rest of them. He gives Tim a half-smile. “Just wondering.”

“Okay.”

They fall into weighted silence, the scales tipping on either side of their post, but never settling. Tim waits. He finishes his burger and busies himself with reorganizing the pouches in his belt, giving Duke the privacy to think.

“I don’t know,” Duke starts after several minutes, “if I’m a boy.” He looks at Tim. “I think I might be something else.”

“Okay,” Tim says calmly. “What do you feel like?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve always felt different, y’know? When I was a kid, it was because I was smarter than everyone in my class. And it was fine, because I knew what it was and how it worked and why it was a good thing, being the smart one. It made sense. Time went on, the other kids started catching up, but that mismatched feeling never went away. I never felt right in my skin.”

Duke’s face rises to the dark clouds, the Batsignal shining from the top of the police station like a holy beacon. “Then I met Batman. My powers started to come in and everything clicked into place, all at once. That was why I never felt like I fit in with everyone else, because I was different. I had powers. That must have been it.”

“But it wasn’t,” Tim guesses.

Duke shakes his head. “I thought it would be. I mean, what else could it have been, you know? It should have explained why I never felt at home in my identity. But time goes on, I learn how to use my powers, and it fixes some of it, but not everything. There’s still part of me that looks in the mirror and sees something off. Some detail out of place.”

“Do you feel like a girl?” Tim ventures to ask.

Duke folds over the corner of his straw wrapper again and again in tiny triangles. “Nah, I doubt it. I like some feminine things, but I don’t think I’m a girl. Or a guy. I think...I might be nonbinary?”

Tim does his best to channel Bruce’s “supportive dad” energy and smiles. “Okay. What pronouns do you want to use?”

“They/them, maybe? For a while?”

“Duly noted.” He puts a hand on Duke’s shoulder. “I really do appreciate you telling me.”

Duke rubs the back of their neck, their cheeks flushing. “It feels good to say out loud. Not just in my head.”

“Do you think you’re going to tell anyone else? You don’t have to if you’re not ready, but our whole family will support you.”

“Yeah.” Duke picks at their nails, nodding absently. “I know they will. I’m not worried about that.”

“Then what are you worried about?”

Duke takes a deep breath in, and Tim is reminded of a balloon close to bursting. “My parents aren’t dead. I’m going to get them back. And when I do...what are they going to think when they wake up after half a decade and find out that their son isn’t their son anymore? What if they don’t like the person they see?”

Tim can’t say that he hadn’t swum with the same thoughts years ago, back when the person who is Tim Drake was still on the drawing board. But there’s a difference between his situation and Duke’s. “Your parents love you, Duke. They’re not going to stop loving you just because you’ve grown up since they last saw you.”

“What if it’s too much? The superpowers and the crime-fighting and the new gender...it’s a lot to take in.”

“Well, sure,” Tim says. “It might take some time for them to get used to it, but this is who you are. They’re going to love it just as much as they love the rest of you.”

Duke smiles, and if their eyes are a little misty, Tim pretends not to notice.

“Besides,” he says. “If I were you, I’d just lead with the superpowers thing. Anything after that sounds perfectly acceptable.”

[arteyhumano299]

You Keep Me Waitin’

Chapter 1: Feel Better (9k words)

Summary: Kagami and Marinette aren't that close— they’re friendship is relatively new and there's still some unresolved tension. Kagami has just experienced heart break for the first time, and her mother’s expectations are beginning to weigh on her. Marinette’s duties are doing a similar number on her, and painful realizations have also left her heartbroken. They realize they can use each other as an excuse to flee from their troubling lives. In each other they find unexpected comfort, and soon they're closer than either could have expected.

Available on Ao3 , fanfic.net , and Wattpad

Notes:

First fanfic I'm publishing in a while. So I made the creative decisions to make the characters slightly older, around 17,16 ish. It's just cause it makes me uncomfortable to write sexual tension between 14-15 year olds. Also, this fic takes place right after the break ups so like season 4, ep 2. I can't promise consistent updating schedule but I'm committing to this fic. This first chapter is pretty long, I don't have a set words per chapter limit so the chapters might be all over the place. Anyway. Enjoy :)

Kagami feels hollow. She felt hollow as she closed the door of the locker room. She felt hollow as she walked out of Françoise Dupont. She felt hollow as she made her way down the stone steps at the entrance of the collège. The sound of her shoes making contact with the ground made Kagami feel especially hollow —the only sound that rang in her ears. Said shoes carried her to Tatsu's red door. Eyes found the car’s window, Kagami grimaced at her own reflection.

She clutched Tatsu’s handle and swung the backseat door open, hoping to flee from her own eyes. Her head hung low, eyes on her lap, as she closed the door. Slowly, she lifted her head to face the window and the collège’s front gates. She took a deep breath before turning her eyes forward. “Take me home, Tatsu.”

The collège disappeared as Tatsu moved forward. Kagami exhaled. Her hands found their way into her fencing bag and she slowly retrieved her phone from the bundle of clothes and protein bars. She steeled herself as her phone lit up. The screen read 6:09 against a familiar picture Kagami had taken that day at the San Martin Canal. They were seated at the canal’s edge, Adrien’s chin smudged with ice cream and Kagami smiling giddily at having caught this momentary clumsiness. Adrien, oblivious to the desert decorating his face, grinning at the camera and leaning close to her. She pursed her lips as she felt a pang to her chest, and opened settings with a decisive press of the home button. Their twin smiles disappeared from her lock screen, replaced with an old picture of the Eiffel Tower— one she had taken when she’d first arrived in Paris. She’d grown accustomed to it by now, but the large monument had seemed so mystical when she first saw it.

A sense of exhaustion came over her and she let her neck fall backwards. Head falling on the seat’s headrest, the car’s ceiling filled her vision.

Had this been a mistake?

Kagami had always been rational. Her mother valued logic above all, putting her stakes only in what she could hope to benefit from. Mother had taught this principle to Kagami at an early age, and Kagami had taken it to heart. She put a lot of effort into her passions, assured that her work would pay off. She took her future seriously, recognizing that it would reflect all of her present decisions. She didn’t goof off or blow off responsibilities. She did her best to control her sometimes reckless personality. She wasn’t disobedient. And she certainly didn’t waste her time in mindless relationship games. But here she was now. Kagami had gone about dating Adrien the way she did most things: straight to the point, and with a set goal in mind. She had been decisive, and she wasted no time dancing around her feelings, thinking that it would pay off, like all other things had in her life. Sitting alone in a car, heartbroken, had not been the outcome she predicted. Could she have miscalculated?

Somewhere inside herself, she understood that she had been very clear about her feelings, and had worked hard to maintain their relationship– at times, even foolishly bended some of her values just to get closer to him. Adrien had been the one to lie, and had always been more apprehensive with his affection, like he was holding back and holding on at the same time. Right now though, Kagami doubted herself. She’d never been the type to, but maybe while she was blinded by her affections for Adrien, she’d lost herself.

Her mother would be disappointed. Kagami hadn’t exactly told her of their relationship, and thinking of the times she did stuff she would disapprove of just to spend time with Adrien, Kagami wasn’t sure if she wanted to. God.

Kagami had been so eager to get closer to Adrien, and latched on as soon as Adrien began to reciprocate her stares, she had acted foolishly hadn’t she?

Her eyes eventually found the window again, but she regretted it as soon as her eyes laid on the glossy dark waters of the San Martin Canal. She saw the green leaves of trees painted on the water’s surface.

Something coiled in her chest.

“Tatsu, stop.”

Suddenly overcome with emotion, Kagami pushed the car door open and exited onto the aligned stone slabs of the sidewalk. The door closed behind her, body facing the canal. A breeze swept Kagami’s bangs out of her face, drying the prickle of tears at the edge of her eyes. She walked closer to the canal and peered at her figure reflected on the water, her hands bunched in her skirt. The water was too far away for any of her features to be distinguishable but she stared at her reflection– her head of dark hair a blob dancing on the canal’s ripples. Her fists slowly unclenched and she lowered herself to the canal’s edge.

As her eyes followed the ripple of the water, Kagami wondered if getting overly self conscious about this break up was what was irrational. Obviously most relationships ended, and she couldn't expect her first lover to be her last. A memory of telling ladybug her and Adrien were meant to be crossed Kagami’s mind. She grimaced, cringing at the memory. Kagami had said it with bold certainty, confident that there was something special between them–an understanding she’d never experienced with anyone else. She hoped that maybe… that would be the case, once Adrien was ready he would apologize and realize what she had long ago. He didn’t trust her now though, so what assured her he ever would. Maybe the wound was too fresh to wonder about the future.

Kagami closed her eyes and felt another gust of wind flutter against her eyelids. She stood back up and began to walk along the canal.

As she walked further and further from Tatsu, she began to realize another issue. Was she going to ignore Adrien? She had told him she didn’t want to stay friends. Adrien’s distrust had stung her deeply– she had, after all, put a lot of energy and time into their relationship, and just returning to their old dynamic felt wrong. Were they just supposed to not acknowledge any of the remaining tension?

Adrien hiding stuff from her would sting regardless of their relationship, she cared very deeply for him– friend or lover. Kagami had to remind herself: don’t waste time and energy on fruitless efforts. If Adrien wasn’t gonna let up, Kagami would stop giving him the time of day. The opportunity to hurt her. She felt justified in her harshness, though Adrien was one of the only friends she’d ever had. Kagami began to wonder if any of this would seem ridiculous to someone more understanding and emotionally intelligent– Kagami admitted she felt short in that regard.

She admittedly was too caught up thinking of ways to figure this out to pay much attention to her surroundings. Mid thought, something slammed into her, or rather she slammed into someone. Kagami stumbled backwards, almost losing her footing but catching herself at the last minute. As soon as she regained her balance she looked up at the offended party to apologize. She was met with a familiar pair of blue bell eyes. Before she could muster up a ‘sorry’, Marinette beat her to it.

“Kagami! I’m so sorry! I was distracted and wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Her face was somewhat obstructed by boxes stacked on her arms- which she noticed were now off center.

“I’m sorry too, Marinette; I was also distracted.”

Marinette readjusted the boxes. “No, it was probably more on me. My limbs seem to have a mind of their own, a lot of people have fallen victim to my clumsiness.” Marinette’s face scrunched embarrassment.

“Well you are the one carrying boxes, I just bypassed pedestrian etiquette in my mindless daydreaming.”

Kagami could make out Marinette’s smile even with the obstruction to her face.

“That’s just like you to think getting distracted is a lapse of ‘pedestrian etiquette’.” She chuckled at Marinette’s phrasing of ‘pedestrian etiquette’. Marinette’s eyes peered at her quizzically.

“Are you alone, Kagami?”

“I am.”

That seemed to confuse Marinette as she looked around Kagami.

“I don’t mean to pry, but why are you walking down the San Martin Canal?”

Kagami looked back to the canal’s waters.

“I suppose...”, She tried to find an excuse as she faced Marinette again, " I thought the walk would be some nice, light exercise.” Marinette raised an eyebrow at her.

“Right after fencing? Shouldn’t you be having a meal?”

She was surprised that Marinette had any knowledge in the dietary guidelines of athletes. She’d never mentioned partaking in any active hobby to Kagami.

“I was just trying it out. ''

Marinette still seemed confused but shrugged and didn’t press further. Kagami’s eyes shifted to the boxes Marinette was still carrying.

“And you? Is there a reason you’re walking down a canal with an armful of boxes?”

Marinette seemed to remember what she was holding as her eyes flickered to the packages in front of her.

“Oh, right. I’m just making a delivery for the bakery.”

Kagami was now the one to question her with a raised eyebrow.

“On foot? With that tall of a stack?”

Her expression turned sheepish. “Bad idea in retrospect, considering my clumsiness and all.”

Kagami couldn’t help but smile. “What if I help you?”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “With my delivery?”

Kagami nodded.

“What about your light exercise?”

“Whether it be going home or making a delivery I’m still walking.”

Marinette’s cheeks pinked. “Oh, uh, guess you’re right.”

She approached Marinette and reached for the top couple of boxes, taking them into her arms and waiting for Marinette to readjust her arms again.

“Okay, it’s only two blocks from here.”

Marinette began to walk and Kagami moved to follow her pace.

“Do you often make deliveries for your parents’ bakery?”

“When they need to be done yeah; it’s my way of helping out.”

Kagami looked at her profile, her pigtails more hastily tied than usual and her cheeks a paler pink than she was used to.

“Have they been keeping you busy?”

“Ah, no more than usual.”

Marinette met her eyes momentarily and Kagami wondered if those were eyebags under her eyes.

“They try not to be too demanding.”

“Really?... Have you been testing lately?”

She saw Marinette turn to her and could almost feel her puzzlement.

“Uh, no?...”

Marinette faced the walkway again.

“Why do you ask?”

“I just haven’t heard from you lately.”

There was a pause.

“I’ve just been caught up in some stuff.”

Kagami sensed she didn’t want to elaborate so she kept her questions to herself.

“Well, It’s nice to see you, even in a somewhat odd situation.”

“I’m glad to see you too.”

Her smile became soft.

“I haven’t seen much of you either, but I understand you’ve also been… busy.”

The silence that followed hung for a second too long. Kagami wasn’t sure how she should interpret that— she’d never explicitly told Marinette about her and Adrien, but they hadn’t really hid their affection. “I…” Kagami sighed. “Yeah, I have been distracted with other… stuff.”

The silence continued and Kagami considered even noting the weather to fill it. Before she could stew in the silence any longer, Marinette cut through it with a boldness she wasn’t accustomed to seeing from her.

“How are things with Adrien?”

Kagami suddenly felt very insecure and the packages of pastries in her arms felt heavier.

“We weren’t very subtle were we?”

Marinette considered her question.

“You two have been getting pretty chummy for a while.”

“... I can see what you mean.”

“You know, it’s okay. I just really hope you don’t drop me, so you guys better not stop hanging out with me.”

Marinette’s attempt at lightening the mood was stunted by the tension. Kagami was too preoccupied with finding the right response to care.

“Well, of course, I wouldn’t abandon our relationship for Adrien.”

Kagami was too consumed in her nerves to notice the change in tone of Marinette’s silence.

“You don’t have to worry about my schedule being full though.”

Marinette laughed.

“Kagami, it’s natural for couples to spend a lot of time together, you don’t have to make time you don’t have for me. Don’t worry, I have other people I can get orange juice with.” She swallowed.

“I don’t doubt you do.”

They approached a crossroad and Marinette turned, Kagami following after her. She let it out before she decided against it.

“What I meant to say, is that you don’t have to worry about my schedule being full anymore.”

Marinette stopped abruptly but Kagami expected it. Her expression was hard to decipher.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that”, Kagami stepped closer to her. “Adrien’s no longer going to be taking up my time.”

Marinette’s eyebrows slowly furrowed, she searched her face and Kagami hoped Marinette couldn’t make out her insecurity.

“You…”

“We did.”

She faced forward once again. “It’s been the case for all of a half an hour.”

“Oh, God, Kagami, I’m so sorry.”

Kagami turned to shoot her a frown. Marinette shut her mouth before she could begin her rambling. She might not be feeling like herself but she still wasn’t below taking her pity.

“Obviously I’m still processing but quite honestly, the break up actually happened last night.”

“Oh.”

“I won’t need to see him until our next fencing lesson so I’ll have time to figure something out.”

They finally continued to walk.

“I mean, I bet Adrien will make an effort to keep things friendly.”

“That’s exactly what I fear.”

“What do you mean?”

Kagami kept her eyes forward. “I’m not planning on keeping our relationship as friendly as it was before.”

She hoped she didn’t sound bitter.

“That bad, huh?”

“Adrien made his decisions so I made mine.”

Kagami definitely sounded bitter.

“Well, then I guess you should start making time for another juice date.”

Marinette’s smile felt reassuring. She slowed down and stopped in front of a pair of glass doors. Kagami could make out a lobby from the large windows on either side.

“We’re here by the way.”

Kagami went ahead and opened one of the doors, holding it for Marinette who had the taller stack of boxes. Marinette allowed her act of chivalry and entered, Kagami following behind her. She looked around the lobby as Marinette advanced to the front desk, eyeing the cushions taking up most of the room, and wondering who had thought buying several loveseats for such a small lobby was a good idea. Marinette returned before Kagami could criticize the internal design further.

“Okay, we should be able to just go up and knock on the door.”

They made their way to the elevator and Marinette pressed the button to the fourth floor. They stood in silence for a few seconds.

“It wasn’t just me that noticed the disgusting orange loveseats was it?” Kagami smirked “I also noticed their incompatibility with the room, though I was more worried with the amount of floor plan they took up.” Marinette scoffed, “More like incompatibility with my eyes.”

This time Kagami actually laughed. The elevator doors opened and they made their way into a hallway lined with numbered doors.

“Okay, I think it was apartment 127.”

They scanned the doors until finding it: apartment 127. Kagami knocked and they waited for an answer. Kagami could hear the muted sound of rock music and laughter. Finally, the door’s handle shook and the door swung open. A short woman with brown hair dyed red stood at the entrance, her eyes taking them and their armful of boxes in.

“Oh, the pastries are here!” The woman pushed the door open further, and turned her head to the apartment.

“Arthur! Come help me with the pastries.” The woman turned back to them “Sorry, lovelies, I’ll get those off ya in a sec.” A man poked his head before joining the four of them at the entrance. He was significantly taller than the woman but had the same red hair.

“Those smell good”, he grinned.

“I can assure they taste just as good”, Marinette responded, sugar sweet, in what Kagami guessed was her customer service voice. The woman and man reached out and took the boxes from them and Kagami was glad to have the weight off her arms. She stretched them out as the woman looked through her wallet and placed some bills in Marinette’s hands. “Thank you, have a nice day, ma’am.”

“Have a nice day too, ladies.”

Marinette smiled at them as they closed the door. Then she also stretched her arms with a sigh. “Okay, let’s go.”

They entered the elevator, returned to the lobby, and then exited the apartment complex.

Marinette turned to her. “Thank you so much, Kagami, people don’t tend to order so much so it was probably for the best I ran into you.”

“It wasn’t a bother,” she could feel the smile on her lips, “It was also nice to catch up with you.”

Marinette grinned at her. “Well, I guess I’ll see you at another time. You should probably call Tatsu, you’ve had enough exercise for today.”

“Oh, are you my trainer, Marinette?”

“I’m your friend, so I’m more important.”

Kagami couldn’t argue with that. An idea popped into her brain and she pursed her lips.

“Let me walk you home, Marinette.”

Marinette blinked at her.

“Walk me home?”

“Yes.” She nodded awkwardly, “Walk you home.”

“Shouldn't you be home by now?”

That made Kagami pause— it was true her mother would figure out her absence pretty soon.

“It’s fine, I’ll just text my mother.”

“But you must be tired, I really wasn’t kidding about the exercise thing.”

Kagami disliked when people coddled her, but Marinette’s worry did actually make her feel cared for.

“I’ll be fine, Marinette, I always make sure to carry extra protein bars in my bag.”

Kagami paused and furrowed her brows. “That is unless you’d rather walk home alone, I’m sorry if my request was brash.”

Marinette shook her hands. “No, no, I just didn’t want you to over exert yourself. I know you always give it your all at your fencing practices.”

While Kagami had had a tiring day, Marinette’s company has helped both the ache of her muscles and her chest.

“I’m not that tired, besides,” Kagami moved to stand beside her, “we haven’t talked about our juice date.” She was rewarded with a bright smile.

“Okay, fine, if you’re sure.” Marinette began to walk and Kagami was right beside her.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to ask you where in the world you found a red lamé?”

“Well, Marinette, I pride myself in my dedication.”

They fell into step with each other, letting the conversation flow naturally. As they made their way through the streets of Paris, Kagami listened intently to Marinette’s rambling about old fabric dyeing techniques she’d been looking into. They finally found their way to Marinette’s doorstep and they waved each other goodbye.

She was aware she might return home to a lecture, but as Kagami saw Marinette enter her home, she recognized she felt better.

--------

Marinette rested her back on a chimney, her eyes raking over the other rooftops, waiting for an unexpected attack to pop out of them at any second. Chat was similarly seated next to her, though he didn’t seem quite as on edge as Marinette felt.

Now that the duo had to worry about Shadow Moth, Marinette felt like she was on edge as soon as she transformed. Chat sensed her unease, and regularly attempted to ease her tension with a lighthearted joke. Marinette appreciated his efforts, but she also didn’t want to be distracted —just in case.

She drummed her fingers on her lap and wondered if maybe they should move to a higher vantage point. Maybe they should start making their patrols more active, circling the whole city instead of just moving to a few locations and watching. If there was going to be an akumatization tonight, Marinette hoped it would appear already. Now that she had a gaggle of kwamis to look after, Marinette’s responsibilities seemed to have doubled. She really couldn’t slack off in her schoolwork, or her duties as class rep, or her obligations to the bakery— she knew wedding season was coming up so her parents were going to really need her help. That wasn’t even mentioning all of the personal issues Marinette didn’t know how to tackle. She seemed to have been able to keep a low radar so far, but any second now her friends would figure out the earlier day’s events.

Marinette really didn’t want to think about Juleka’s reaction.

Marinette’s thrumming speed up.

Chat must have seen the anxious twitch of her fingers. “You know, it’s getting late, there probably won’t be any trouble tonight.”

Her eyes flickered to the blonde. “We haven’t checked the south-eastern side of the city.”

“I can go check on my way home.”

Marinette thought about protesting, but she could make out the worry etched onto the line of his eyebrows. His mop of hair caught her eye, messier than she was usd to— almost like it was drooping. She wondered if she wasn’t the only one having a hard time.

“You go to school so you should probably get home and rest.”

“You also go to school”, Marinette noted.

Chat’s replying chuckle felt empty.

“I’m not going to be sleeping anytime soon .” Marinette hoped it wasn’t defeat what she heard in his voice. She regarded his usually vibrant eyes, now dulled with an exhaustion Marinette could recognize.

“You too huh?”

Chat broke eye contact to look out at the Paris scenery. Marinette did the same, gazing at the endless darkness of the sky.

“It’s been a hard week.”

She could only hum in agreement.

Her suit protected her from the cold, but Marinette’s face felt icy in the night’s dropping temperature.

“Is it a personal problem?”

“Well, I think Shadow Moth has both of us on edge, but mostly yeah.”

Chat fiddled with the cuffs of his gloves. She’d always been a proponent of keeping everything private, only revealing what was necessary, but something about Chat’s frown bothered Marinette.

“I can listen.”

Chat’s head shot up, his expression one of surprise. Marinette tried to convey comfort through her own expression. “Really?”

“As long as you keep it vague. I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

His responding smile was small, but Marinette was glad for it nonetheless.

“Well, um, okay.”

Marinette relaxed against the chimney and Chat changed his posture to face her more.

“I started seeing someone recently.”

Marinette’s eyes widened but she kept quiet.

“We were friends beforehand and I realized I liked her, so I thought it would be a good idea.” Chat exhaled. “I’m Chat Noir though, so we couldn’t keep it up.”

Understanding washed over her.

“She was pretty upset, and now… she told me she no longer wanted to have any type of relationship.”

Chat’s eyes stared at the ground(rooftop rather.) Marinette reached for him without thinking. Chat looked at the hand she placed on his shoulder, and then at her. His eyes told her he received the message:

I understand

She leaned in and hugged him. They sat like that for a few seconds, enjoying each other’s warmth, before they separated.

“I think you’re right. We should go home.”

Chat nodded and they both stood up, still facing each other.

“Chat… I know we can’t exactly hang out, but you’re my friend, so if you need anything...”

Chat nodded.

“Thank you, ladybug.”

They shared a smile before going their separate ways.

--------

Marinette was later than usual. The classroom’s tone felt different than yesterday, and Marinette read it immediately. She apologized and took her seat, trying not to meet anyone’s eyes. She could feel Alya’s on her all hour though, but she kept her eyes forward. All of her attention was focused on Mme. Bustier, Marinette throwing herself into the coursework to try and ignore the impending questions. The scratch of graphite on paper worked as a background to Mme. Bustier’s voice, and it did a good job at keeping Marinette’s mind occupied with work.

So much so that Marinette almost didn’t hear the bell.

She stared through the paper in front of her, her fingers tightening around the pencil in her hand. She could feel more eyes on her now.

Recognizing that she could no longer ignore Alya, Marinette picked herself up from her hunched posture and turned to her. Like she predicted, Alya was looking right at her. She didn’t attempt to decode the emotions in the hazel of Alya’s eyes.

She stood up and Marinette knew to follow. Mylène, Rose, Alix, and Juleka were behind them as they made their way out of the classroom. Alya stopped next to a bench and sent Marinette a look, communicating to her that she should sit down. Marinette complied. She studied Alya’s face, and Marinette disliked that the tension in it looked more like worry than displeasure— Marinette didn’t want to lie to Alya when she was looking at her with concern. Alya sighed and she sat beside her, the other girls sitting around them. Marinette thrummed her fingers, waiting for Alya’s words.

She directed them at Alix though.

“Alix, would you like to tell Marinette what you told me?”

Alix met eyes with Marinette before facing Alya. “Recently I heard something from Mylène about Marinette.”

She blew a bubble with her bubblegum and it’s pop unsettled Marinette.

“I think she knows what I’m talking about.”

Marinette sighed before rubbing her arms self consciously. She looked around at their faces— they were waiting for her but Marinette didn’t know what to tell them. She remembered the walk she’d had with Kagami some days ago. Kagami had noticed her exhaustion so soon, she could only wonder how long it must have taken her best friend.

“Do you not want to tell us what happened?”

“Um, no, no, I just… It’s just complicated, I’m not sure I’m even done processing what happened.”

Alya placed a hand on her shoulder. They all understood.

“I, well. I’ll tell you.”

Marinette took a deep breath and tried to work out what parts she had to modify.

“You guys know I’ve had feelings for Adrien all year. For months I’ve had this giant crush on him.” He heard some hums of agreement.

“These past few months I’ve actually begun to talk to him, and for a while now we’ve been friends. Somewhere during that time, I started to get to know different sides of Adrien, and my feelings deepened. I began to think that maybe he could actually like me back. I felt like we were finally connecting... But I think I’ve slowly come to realize that Adrien doesn't think about me like that.” Marinette could hear her voice lowering so she coughed and looked up. “I had to come to terms that Adrien liked someone else, loved someone else.” She tried not to think about Kagami’s words.

“Luka, he was always so sweet. With Adrien, I felt like this spluttering blubbering mess.” She sighed. “No wonder he didn’t like me back, all of my clumsiness gets turned up to a hundred around him. Even once my stuttering calmed down somewhat as we became closer, I feel like a mess around him even now.”

Alya scoffed like she’d been the one to be insulted.

“Marinette, you’re so incredibly smart and clever. You’re also kind and you don’t hesitate to help others. If Adrien hasn’t realized that yet then that’s not your fault.” She tried not to think about how Adrien was all of those things, but more. Or how Kagami was also all of those things, but yet they still…

Marinette didn’t let herself dwell on it.

“That’s something Luka would have told me.”

Alya fell silent.

“Luka made me feel like I could just be. It was easy to talk to him, and when he told me he had feelings for me… I felt like maybe we could work.”

Her eyes flickered to Juleka, but her expression hadn’t changed much.

“My feelings for Adrien were hard to ignore though. I think Luka could tell.”

“I really did like Luka. I just, I feel like I got him caught up in my emotional mess and hurt him.”

Marinette stopped thrumming her fingers and dug them into the fabric of her pants. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys. I’ve been busy and I haven’t been able to reflect on the break up yet.” Marinette looked around all of them, their faces sympathetic.

Rose stood up and wrapped her arms around Marinette. She pulled back and Marinette could see tears rimming her eyes.

“You don’t have to apologize to us, Marinette.”

“Yeah, it sounds like you’ve been having a rough time”, Mylène piped up.

Alya’s hand slid from her shoulder to her back. Marinette appreciated the act of comfort.

“Thank you guys, for being understanding. I just need some time.”

“Of course, Mari, just tell us if you need some hang out buddies to turn your brain off with.” Alix didn’t join them in their huddle around the bench, but her smile was softer than her usual smirk.

“Of course”, Marinette grinned, she could feel the mood lifting. “If any of you would like to get your butts kicked in Ultimate Mecha Strike III, you know who you can call.”

Rose and Mylène giggled, parting from Marinette so she could look up at them better. Marinette couldn’t tell them everything but she genuinely felt her mood lift.

The bell rang.

Marinette felt like now she could scratch that off her list of things to worry about.

She was about to stand up as the other girls smiled and made their way back when she turned to Alya. She was staring at her intensely, like she was analyzing Marinette.

“Uh, Alya? We should make our way back.”

Alya continued to stare at Marinette. Marinette swallowed and clutched the edge of the bench. Finally, Alya crossed her arms and stood up. She didn’t move to make their way back though.

“Alya, we’re going to be late.”

“You’re still hiding something.”

Marinette’s mouth shut. Alya just continued to bore holes through her.

“H-Hiding something?”

“Luka knew you were in love with Adrien since before. He would have been fine with waiting for you to get over him.”

“But I couldn't, okay. I was hurting him and we couldn’t-”

“Marinette, I’m your best friend, you know you can tell me anything, right?”

Marinette wanted to say she couldn’t actually. She bunched her fist in her jacket instead.

“If this is about me not being the one to tell you, I already apologized. I really am sorry, but I just wasn't in the right headspace.”

“When you’re not in the right headspace your emotions tend to spill over. You’re not the type to stew in your feelings.” Marinette narrowed her eyes at her, annoyed at how factual she’d made it sound.

“Don’t act like you know everything about me, Alya.”

Alya’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Marinette swallowed.

“I mean…” She sighed.

“Again, I’m not in the right headspace. Let’s just go to class.” Marinette left and didn’t look back to see if Alya followed.

--------

After class, Marinette shot some smiles at the girls. She apologized to Alya but she could tell she wanted to press further. She left before Alya could protest.

Marinette entered the bakery and greeted her parents, masking her mood with a bright smile.

“Hey Maman, hey Papa.”

“Hello, sweet buns. How was your day?”

Marinette circled the counter and joined them behind it.

“It was alright. Mme. Mendeleive started rambling about this guy called Louis Le Prince near the end of class. It was hard to follow but apparently he invented the camera before Eddison.”

Her mom smiled fondly at her.

“I didn’t know that. I hope that means she didn’t assign you any homework.”

They smirked at each other.

“You’d be right, Maman.”

Marinette didn’t say she was slightly disappointed about it. Her mind needed a distraction. And almost like she’d read her mind, her mother perked up, her expression somewhat sheepish.

“Would you be a dear and help us out with an order for waffle cookies. Me and papa are working on decorating a wedding cake.”

Marinette grinned at her mother.

“Of course, Maman.”

Her mother informed her of the specifics for the order before making her way back to her husband.

Marinette set her bag down on a corner and rolled up her sleeves, plugging in her headphones before reaching for the bottles of ingredients and bowls she would need. She scrolled through her Jagged Stone playlist as she plugged in the waffle iron, once finally settling on an album, stuffing her phone in her back pocket as she found her way back to the table. Marinette tried to get lost in the mindless task of measuring and mixing, making sure to be very meticulous so her mind could only focus on teaspoons of vanilla and cups of flour. These tasks were second nature to her anyway though, so eventually her mind wandered.

Marinette hoped that she’d be able to smooth things over with Alya tomorrow, but she knew how stubborn she could be— Alya wouldn’t stop questioning Marinette. Marinette was so tired of the lies. She’d been lying to Alya almost the entirety of their friendship, and Marinette hated that she was getting better at it. She could just continue to lie to her, it was probably what she would end up doing, but what if Marinette didn’t? What if she just told her the truth.

Marinette fumbled with the mixer before pouring her mixture of ingredients onto the mixing bowl. The sound of the mixer competed with the loud music of her headphones, but more thoughts kept crawling into her mind.

Marinette would admit that at times she wished she didn’t have to. It would be so nice to confide in someone who understood what being a highschooler was like, and who also had some experience with the whole superhero thing. The danger was obvious though. She’d be putting Alya’s security at risk, and hers as well of course. So much was at stake so she couldn’t even entertain the thought. That the weight of being Paris’ greatest superhero while being a seventeen year old high schooler was finally dawning on her.

The mixture of ingredients quickly turned into dough, and she began to scoop up balls of it with her fingers, morphing them into walnut sized balls.

How could Marinette be Marinette when she had to be ladybug? She had dreams she was trying to pursue, as well as responsibilities as a student and daughter. However, she also had a duty to Paris to protect its people. The reality was one she couldn’t afford to forget. These days it felt like she had to be ladybug more and more, her persona bleeding into her everyday. Maybe it was all the hiding and lying that was slowly becoming part of her personality.

Her fingers dug into the dough a bit too hard and ended up making a hole through the ball of dough. She sighed at the tiny doughnut in her hands before reshaping it.

Trust was such an important part of relationships but there was no one Marinette could trust with her secret. And as ladybug continued to dominate her life, Marinette felt as if she’d never be able to invest herself fully in one. Marinette couldn’t giver herself whole if she had to hide half of herself.

She began to line the dough balls, checking the waffle iron.

Marinette hoped she’d be allowed to just be her soon enough. She could dedicate all her time to progressing in her aspirations, accomplishing her responsibilities, and maintaining her relationships.

She sprayed the waffle iron with cooking spray.

Leaving ladybug ...meant leaving Chat Noir too though.

Her eyes studied the dots of cooking spray on the iron.

Fingers pressed into the dough as she placed them along the iron. She lowered the lid slowly.

Maybe… just maybe, they’d find each other after.

The smell of the cookies crisping began to waft over her, Marinette leaned against the table, propping her arms on the surface and closing her eyes as she focused on the smell. The kitchen was warm, and she could hear a bit of the tune her Maman was humming through her headphones. Jagged Stone’s guitar began to quiet down.

It could be that they would never see each other again after that.

Her gaze dropped to her hands, knuckles white with flour and fingertips sticky with residue dough. Her left thumb reached for her right hand and she began to fidget with her ring finger. How did Chat’s miraculous look when he wasn’t transformed? Marinette wondered if she’d be able to recognize it. After all, she doubted anyone would be able to recognize her superheroine persona shining through her fumbling civilian identity. Was Chat just as exuberant in real life? Her mind pondered what kind of teenager Chat would be like. He probably had a lot of friends, and he was probably a bit of an attention seeker. Marinette’s face softened. She bet he was insufferably kind. His friends were very lucky, they could enjoy being Chat’s friends without the weight of thousands of people’s lives on their shoulders. If they met without the masks, would they be friends?

She flattened her hands against the table, tracing circles with her fingers on the flour dusting it. The next song on her playlist began to start. The sweet smell of the cookies continued to fill her nose.

Actually…

Marinette sniffed the air.

“Eek-”

She tried to find the timer somewhere, realizing she hadn’t even taken it out. Scrambling to lift the waffle iron lid’s, Marinette bumped into the table, her hip bone knocking against the table’s edge. She yelped and clutched her hip. Too late, Marinette realized the uncapped vanilla extract bottle. She tried to stop its fall but the bottle tumbled and knocked against a bowl before falling on its side. The dark liquid spilled onto the wood immediately, and Marinette panicked as it pooled around bowls.

“Marinette?”

She only responded with a strained chuckle as she lifted the bottle off the table and regarded the pool of vanilla. “Sorry, I just spilled some extract.”

Her mother glanced from the wedding cake.

“Oh, honey, clean it up before it stains too badly.”

Marinette nodded and rushed to find some paper towels to absorb the extract. She pushed the bowls out of the way and pressed the paper towels onto the table, the white paper quickly turning dark even as the pool of liquid disappeared. Her eyes scanned the room for a rag as she replaced the paper towels. Her hands reached for the nearest one and took it, scrubbing at the surface, praying that the stain would lighten if she placed it next to a window. Suddenly, Marinette remembered what her original plan was as the air turned bitter. Her hands fumbled to open the waffle iron, revealing the now overly brown cookies. She plucked them off the iron and placed them on a cooling rack. As she reached for the last one, her pinky brushed against the hot metal and she hissed, biting her lip and scowling as she rubbed at the burn.

“Today is not my day”, Marinette mumbled.

Her mother shot a glance in her direction again, her brows painted with concern. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“I’m fine, Maman, just a little burn.” Marinette sighed. “I’ll be right back.”

She left her parents in the bakery, climbing the stairs to her home. She pushed the door open with her body and found her way into the bathroom. Marinette opened the faucet and slid her red pinky over the cool water. The change in temperature helped the pain and she exhaled deeply.

Her eyes found her reflection on the mirror and she couldn’t help but scowl. She’d been donning a ‘finals week’ kinda tired on her face– cheeks pale, eyebags deep, and pigtails almost coming undone– but now she also had flour dusting it. She couldn’t wait for this week to end. It was still the middle of the week though, so Marinette guessed she’d need to work extra hard to make it speed by. Her other hand found the faucet and closed it. The towel bothered her skin as she toweled her hands dry, but she hoped it would calm down soon enough. She made her way out of the bathroom, and turned to the kitchen. Swinging the cooler open and scanning its interior, Marinette took a napkin and plucked an ice cube off the ice rack. She closed the cooler before swinging her body onto the counter— her Maman wasn’t here so no one had to know.

The ice was a bit harsh on the burn, but Marinette was looking to numb the pain so she pressed tightly against her pinky. A quiet chuckle passed through her lips. It’d be neat if she could have some numbing ice for other aspects of herself. As she jokingly wondered how that’d work, she realized her mother was calling out to her.

“Marinette!”

She blinked at her Maman’s voice but made her way to the stairs, poking her head down to the bakery.

“Yes, Maman?” Her mother appeared from around the corner.

“There’s a girl here asking for you, honey.”

Panic rose up her throat. Was it Alya? Marinette wasn’t ready to confront her, and she needed time to come up with something to feed to her.

“She brought you some orange juice.”

Marinette frowned at her mother. Orange juice?

Tension left her face.

Her Maman knew Alya pretty well, so Marinette supposed it’d be weird of her not to just tell her it was Alya. Making her ways down the steps, Marinette looked around the bakery. A blue bob and white jacket was the first thing she registered.

“Kagami?”

The girl was standing somewhat awkwardly in front of the counter, two plastic cups in her hands.

“Good afternoon, Marinette.” Kagami’s greeting smile was stiff on her face.

“Hey, Kagami.” Marinette responded simply, she walked towards her, and weaved around the counter. She swept her hand over her cheeks.

“Sorry I was just baking.”

“You look fine, Marinette.”

“Really? I remember a few days ago you mentioned I looked pretty bad.”

“Well, you do look tired.”

Marinette shook her head. “I can’t argue with you on that.”

The logo on the plastic cups Kagami was carrying was familiar.

“So did you just drop by to give me orange juice?”

Kagami brought the cups up to her chest. “Well”, Kagami shifted her weight from one foot onto the other, “I was hoping you’d have some with me.”

“Oh”

“Then in that case.” Marinette turned to her parents, who were probably already listening,

“Can I finish the cookies later?”

“Sure, honey, just cover the dough up.”

Marinette nodded and signaled Kagami to follow her. They walked past the counter and into the actual bakery, Marinette took some wide plates and lined the dough balls on them. She took some seran wrap and covered them, setting them off to the side. She swept her hands together to shake off any remaining flour and turned to Kagami.

“Okay, follow me.”

She led her around the corner and to the stairs. Kagami glanced around.

“So this is what leads to your actual home?”

She followed Marinette up the steps.

“Yep. The first floor is just the bakery.”

She pushed the door open and moved to let Kagami in first. Kagami took her home in. The white couch decorated with throw pillows; the kitchen with their bright blue refrigerator; the three windows spilling sunlight through grey curtains. Marinette closed the door behind them. Kagami stepped into the kitchen, her eyes roaming over the fridge. Marinette joined her.

“Weird color for a home appliance, right?”

Kagami glanced back at her, but reached her hands up to a photo on the cooler’s door, her fingertips grazing it.

“Is this a relative of yours?”

Marinette glanced at what she was looking at. The photo was a few years old, Marinette was sprawled out on the couch that was currently right behind them. A teenage boy leaning on said couch was teasing Marinette with a feather. Her face was scrunched up as said boy tickled it with the feather. They were both grinning though.

“Oh.” Marinette smiled at the picture. “That’s my older brother actually.”

Kagami’s brow questioned her, surprise evident on her face. “I wasn’t aware you had a brother.”

“Yeah, I guess I don’t talk about him enough. His name is Anthony.”

“Does he live here?”

“Oh, no, he’s studying abroad right now. He wasn’t able to come during Christmas but he’ll be here during the summer.”

Kagami seemed to mull over this information. She kept her eyes on the photo. “What was it like?” Marinette looked at her quizzically. “ Growing up with a sibling, I mean”, She clarified.

Marinette snorted. “Annoying, no one else knows how to tick you off like a sibling.” She wiggled her fingers as she presented the picture. “Exhibit here.”

“Really? I don’t know if that sound… enjoyable.”

“Pfft, well growing up with siblings is definitely pretty bothersome.” Marinette nodded at her own comment. “Sometimes it's funny but being so close to someone before gaining any sense of maturity comes with annoying downfalls.”

“People have told me it’s sad I don’t have any siblings though.”

Marinette couldn’t read Kagami’s expression.

“That’s kinda rude of them.”

Kagami smiled at her response.

“I’ve always thought so too.” She set the orange juice on the nearest surface. “But I guess I wonder if siblings are worth all of their hype.”

Marinette thought about her brother. It’d been a while since he’d last seen him, and she’d never admit to it to him, but sometimes his absence made her home feel empty.

“It’s also really nice, having someone to grow up with. I get why they might have said that.” She shrugged. “It’s a unique bond.”

“So do you miss you brother?”

“Ugh, well it’s a pain to admit but yeah.”

Kagami smirked in amusement. Marinette reached for the orange juice Kagami had brought. “I didn’t know they had such cute to go cups.” Kagami took the other cup and followed Marinette as she made her way to the counter in the kitchen, each of them taking a seat.

“You're the type to always notice design.” It wasn't a question.

“Well I might specialize in fashion designing, but if something is cute then I’ll notice.” Marinette brought the straw up to her mouth. The orange juice was refreshing and Marinette humed against the straw in contentment. Kagami smiled at her drink as well.

“I love orange juice, but is there a specific reason you’re here?”

Kagami parted her mouth from the juice and shrugged. “I suppose we never actually set a date for that orange juice date.”

“Hmm, are you maybe trying to make time up with me?”

“Well I did want to see you.”

“I’m flattered by your honesty. But I bet you also wanted to see what a bakery-home was like.”

Kagami looked around the room again instead of responding.

“Your house is so small.”

“Oh, gee, I know it's no mansion.”

“No, I didn’t mean it in a degrading way.” Kagami’s eyes flitted to a particular tiger shaped pillow on the coach. It was an old comfort toy of Marinette. “It’s homely, and warm.”

“Well it is right above a bakery”, Marinette pointed out.

“It does smell of baked goods.”

“Come on Sunday mornings. Last week I woke up to lemon-berry savarin and palmier pastries.”

“Should I come every Sunday to guess the pastry of the week?”

“You're invited to taste it too.”

They both laughed.

“I can’t promise I’d be awake to greet you, Sundays are one of my holy sleeping-in days.”

“I see you value your sleep.”

“You could say that. Like you’ve noticed though, I look like a mess when I don’t get enough of it.” Kagami didn’t respond for a second.

“So you haven’t been getting much sleep?”

“Oh, ah”, Marinette laughed awkwardly. “No, spose I haven’t.”

“You have a lot of responsibilities.”

“That I do.” Marinette chewed on the straw of her juice.

“Thank you for coming actually, I’ve been having an off day.”

“Rough week?”

“Pretty much.”

They sat in a comfortable silence as their juice slowly disappeared. Marinette noted that Kagami looked better than she had the last time they’d met. Part of her wanted to ask how that whole thing was going for her, but did she actually want to know?

“So”, Kagami broke the silence first. “You make deliveries but you also bake?”

“Of course, what kind of baker’s daughter do you take me for?”

“Do your parents expect you to take on the bakery someday?” Marinette opened her mouth but then swallowed.

“They understand I have a dream for designing, but we still haven’t figured it out. They really want to keep the bakery alive.”

“Sorry, it seems like a complicated subject.”

“It is, but it’s okay.” Marinette slurped the last of her orange juice and set her cup down. “It really is okay though, a discussion for the future. Like you said, I have enough on my plate at the moment.” Kagami also finished her drink

“Well I hope the bakery stays open until next Sunday, I want to try the pastry of the week.”

Marinette giggled. “I’ll make sure to make you something special.”

“Do many people get the pleasure of tasting your baking?”

“Some lucky souls out there in Paris.”

“I trust you’re good then.”

“Well I think my baking is plenty tasty, I’m just a clutz.”

“So your clumsiness doesn't interfere with the taste?”

“No, it just endangers my safety, as well as anyone’s in a three meter radius”, Marinette sighed.

“I do read you as accident prone.”

“Don’t laugh but actually I stained the work table with vanilla extract and burned my pinky only a few minutes before you came.”

Kagami’s brows rose in surprise.

“Wow, really?”

“Yep”, Marinette grumbled, lifting her right hand up. It wasn’t so distinct anymore but her finger was still red. Kagami noticed.

“I see, does it still hurt?”

“Not really, I mean it’s not fun getting burned but I have thick skin so it’s okay.”

Kagami paused and looked at her, confused. “Thick skin?”

“I’ve been pricking my fingers with needles for years, scaring has made my skin thicker and less sensitive.”

“Oh, I had no idea.”

“Yeah, sometimes I get quite insecure about it. I don’t think a guy would appreciate holding hands with me. Girls are supposed to have soft skin or whatever.”

“I know what you mean, fencing has made me build my own callouses.”

“Oh that’s right, your fence training must have done a similar number on your hands.”

Kagami nodded holding her palms out on the countertop. “I have a similar insecurity.” Marinette gazed at her hands, she could make out the callouses. She leaned closer to Kagami, placing her left hand on the countertop too.

“May I?”

Kagami’s dark eyes considered her, her bangs almost completely covering her eyebrows— It made it hard at times to decipher her expression— said bangs bounced as Kagami nodded. Marinette moved her eyes from Kagami to her palms. She lifted her left hand, her knuckles grazing the cool countertop as it approached Kagami’s. Their skin touched, marinette’s index finger grazing Kagami’s pinky. Her touch was tentative as she brushed her fingertips over Kagami’s fingers and against the inside of Kagami’s hand. It was unexpectedly cool. Just like Kagami had said, the skin along her palm’s crease was distinctly tough and one could only wonder the years of training needed to result in such callouses. She studied Kagami’s hand. Her palm was more plush than her own, but her fingers were bonier, and they also had a yellow undertone that darkened around the edges of her hands and turned into the warm color of the rest of her body. Marinette found this information oddly fascinating.

Her eyes flitted to Kagami’s face. Her gaze was on Marinette’s fingers, and Marinette realized that she was caressing Kagami’s palm. She flushed and retracted her hand, drumming her fingers on the countertop.

“Um, your hands are pretty nice actually.”

Kagami’s hands curled into loose fists.

“They aren’t soft though.”

“No, but anyone can tell that your skin’s texture is the product of hours of hard work.”

Kagami didn’t respond, but Marinette could make out a whisper of a smile on her lips.

“They, uh, they’re cool too.. Nice and cool.” Marinette swallowed, embarrassed she’d actually said that. Kagami blinked at her and Marinette hoped she hadn’t made it weird.

“Your’s are warm.”

Marinette stopped her drumming.

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Baker’s daughter thing again?”

Marinette chuckled and looked at her own hands now. “Yep, exactly.” She ran her right thumb along the base of her left thumb. Her skin had more of a pink undertone which she knew she’d inherited from her papa. Marinette wondered if both of Kagami’s parents had warm undertones. She glimpsed in Kagami’s direction. Her eyes were on the countertop, somewhat hidden behind her bangs. Marinette realized how little she actually knew of Kagami. They hadn’t been friends for that long so maybe that was obvious. Was it one of those rich kid-strict parents thing?

A ringing broke her train of thought. Kagami sat up and reached for her pocket, hastily pulling her phone out. A frown pulled on her lips.

“Everything alright? Is your mom calling?”

“Just a text. She wants me to come home now/”

“Oh, do you need to be somewhere?”

“No, it’s just past the time I told her It’d be here.”

“Why does she need you home then?”

“She doesn't, she just doesn't like it when I don’t stick to my plans.” Kagami returned her phone to her pocket, she could make out her exasperation through her movements.

“You need to leave then.”

“I do. I’ve intruded long enough anyways.”

“Of course you haven’t. But I’ll walk you out.”

Marinette stood up and Kagami followed. They made their way back to the bakery. Kagami nodded her head at her parents, a small bow of her head. “Thank you for letting me come into your home, M. and Mme.Dupain-Cheng.”

“You're always welcome -”

“Kagami”, Marinette offered.

“You're always welcome, Kagami. Have a good night, sweetheart.”

“And you as well.”

They exited the bakery, Tatsu already waiting for her.

“Well, it was nice seeing you. Feel free to come again.”

“I enjoyed talking with you.” Kagami’s smile was warm, her statement genuine.

“Thank you for allowing me to stay.”

Marinette could feel her own smile on her face. She waved as Kagami entered the car and drove off. It was evening by now.

Marinette stood in front of her home. She felt better.

A/N:

It's been a while since I last saw some of the episodes so if anything seems off let me know. I don't know if Anthony will make an appearance but I love the Brother AU so I'm including it. Feedback is appreciated, especially since I don't have any beta readers, point out any mistakes please. -Rey :D

[twoidiotwriters1]

Iron 10 (Peter Parker x Fem!Oc)

Words:  3, 238

Masterlist

Chapter 9

"And how am I supposed to learn to control them if they forbid me to do anything?" Lily asks from the back seat.

“We’ll talk to your father. Depending on what happens, we’ll send them the necessary equipment,” informs Fury.

"Depending on what happens?"

"Legal aspects.”

"As which?"

"Lily, one problem at a time," Nat interrupts.

“Fine. Where are we going?"

"Do you want a donut?"

"Sure!"

The van pulls up outside the Randy’s Donuts store, Fury comes out. They both look at him from inside the car. Tony’s sitting on the huge donut.

"Why did we come for him?” She grits her teeth, remembering the annoyance towards her father.

"You two should talk," Nat says.

"I don’t want to.”

"If you want us to help you, that is the condition.”

Lily turns away from the window and folds her arms looking at the redhead.

"You didn't say anything about conditions.”

"Now there are.”

"It's not fair,” She sighs and then looks at Nat's outfit. "Why do you wear that? Is it your super spy uniform?"

 "Something like that. You like it?"

“You look weird, but I like it. Do you have weapons or explosives?"

“Perhaps."

The agent receives an order from her intercom. She responds and returns to the girl.

"Come on, I'll buy you a donut."

They both get out of the truck and enter the premises. Nat asks Lily a chocolate donut and walks to the chairs where Tony and Fury are, while the girl takes the donut from her and sits in an armchair away from them, with her back to them.

"Huh!" Tony says when he sees Natasha in a new outfit "You're... fired.”

"That's not up to you,” answers the redhead sitting down.

"Tony, I want you to meet Agent Romanoff,” adds Fury.

“Hi."

"I'm a S.H.I.E.L.D. shadow. Once we knew you were ill or out of control, I was tasted to you by Director Fury. Besides taking care of your daughter in risky situations,” She tilts her head towards Lily.

Tony frowns and looks away to meet the little girl, eating a donut while she swings her legs. He goes back to the redhead.

"I suggest you apologize,” answers Tony.

"You've been very busy," continues Fury. “You made your girl your CEO, you’re giving away your stuff, you neglect your daughter without taking into account the high priority over her powers, you let your friend fly way with your suit. Now, if I did’nt know better—”

 Tony rolls his eyes. Again, someone else scolding him for whatever stupid thing he does. Although he now knows that he did screw up, he doesn't want to hear it again. He has enough with his own mind.

"You don't know better. I didn’t give it to him. He took it."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, He took it?" asks Fury. “You’re Iron Man and he just took it? The Little brother walked in there, kicked your ass and took your suit?" He says. “Is that possible?"

“Well, according to Mr. Stark’s database security guidelines, there are redundancies to prevent unauthorized usage,” answers Nat.

Tony snorts.

"What do you want from me?"

“What do we want from you? Uh-uh,” Fury says as Natasha gets up. “What do you want from me? You have become a problem, a problem I have to deal with. Contrary to your belief, you are not the center of my universe,” He scolds him.

In that, Natasha injects something into Tony making him scream. The conversation is overheard by Lily, but only when he complains does she turn around.

"Oh, god, are you gonna steal my kidney and sell it?" Tony asks.

Natasha moves Tony's head and Fury sees the lines on Stark's neck slowly disappear.

Fury explains what the substance they just injected does to him.

“Give me a couple of boxes of that. I'll see right as rain."

"It's not a cure, it just abates the symptoms,” Nat explains.

"You need to get back to work, Stark," Fury says and Tony sighs. "And by Stark, I mean both," He points back.

Lily realizes that he sees her and turns away.

 "I don't think she wants to work as a team now."

“She has her reasons. You are a terrible companion.”

***

They all return home to Malibu. Tony and Nick sit on the terrace, now destroyed. They both talk about the reactor, the technology that Howard Stark couldn't finish, and about Vanko father and son.

Fury takes it upon himself to explain everything to Tony, while Lily returns from her room after making sure that no one had destroyed her. Nat had told him what happened with Rhodes and Tony.

The little girl walks to sit on the stairs that lead to the terrace, listening to the adults.

“You told me I hadn't tried everything. What do you mean I haven’t tried everything? What haven’t I tried?" Tony points out.

"He said that you were the only person with the means and knowledge to finish what he started.”

"He said that?"

“Are you that guy? Hmm? Are you? ‘Cause if you are, then you can solve the riddle of your heart. Or maybe, I should be discussing this with your daughter."

Tony winces and shakes his head. Lily frowns.

"I don't know where you get your information, but he wasn't my biggest fan," says Tony.

"I'm not either," adds Lily, resting her chin on her arm. Tony glances at her.

"What do you remember about your dad?"

This catches the girl's attention.

 “He was cold, he was calculating. He never told me he loved me. He never even told me he liked me, so it’s a Little tough for me to digest then you’re telling me he said the whole future was riding on me an’s passing it down. I don't get that."

Hearing that, Lily feels a little sorry for Tony. Only a little. She imagines how  could be her grandfather when Tony was her age.

"You're talking about a guy whose happiest day was when he shipped me off to boarding School.”

"That’s not true.”

"Well, then, clearly you knew my dad better than I did.”

“As a matter of fact, I did. You can believe and think many things about him, but knowing all that, do you really want Lily to think the same about you?" says Fury and then finishes his drink. More agents appear to drop off several suitcases. "Well then, what else will I know about one of the founding members of S.H.I.E.L.D.”

"What?"

All three get up. Lily walks over to see the suitcase.

"What’s this?" Tony asks pointing at her.

"You got this, right?" asks Fury.

"Got what? I don’t even know what I’m supposed to get,” answers Tony nervously.

“Natasha will remain a floater at Stark with her cover of her intact. And you remember Agent Coulson, right?"

“Yeah."

They both greet each other.

 "Oh, and Tony,” says Fury before leaving. "After you fix this whole mess, we should talk about Lily's new training, she needs it more than you do. And remember, I got my eye on you.”

The latter makes Lily laugh.

Natasha and Coulson explain to Tony what to do and what not to do, while Lily walks over to the suitcase.

Property of H.Stark

"Okay, time to work, Kid," says Tony.

“No," Lily walks away. "We've been together for several hours and you haven't even apologized, and now you're just hoping that I'll help you?"

Tony raises an eyebrow, shifting uncomfortably.

“Basically."

Lily looks at him in disbelief.

"I don't want to, I won't help you,” She says and then returns to her room.

***

The truth is that Lily does want to help him, but she knows he doesn't deserve it. Moreover, she cannot be alone in her room doing nothing. She wants to know what’s in that suitcase, but she doesn't want Tony to find out about her.

An idea crosses her mind. She may not be the stealthiest, but she is the only thing she has. She goes into the living room of her destroyed house and presses the hidden button on the emergency elevator that goes alone to the workshop. She enters it and after a few seconds arrives at the workshop.

 All the lights are off and Tony is sitting in an armchair facing a projection. Lily sneaks up behind the old project.

They both watch the old Howard Stark tapes, rehearsing the presentation of what is now Stark Expo. The man has several mistakes with words, but something else calls him the attention to the girl. Just as a little boy comes out the other side of the desk where Howard presents a model. The boy takes one of the pieces and Howard notices.

“Tony, what are you doing back there? What is that? Put that back!” He scolds him.

Lily leans in to get a better look at the boy version of her father. Now she can see the resemblance between Howard and Tony when scolding their children, but is also fun to watch.

Several takes with more errors follow.

“So, from all of us at Stark Industries, I’d like to personally show you my ass,” says Howard. Lily can't help but laugh at his words, giving away her presence. Although Tony had listened to her since she arrived.

"I know you're in there, kid. You're too curious to miss this,” She comes out of her hiding place, crawling on the ground until she reaches the other side of the projector.

"I'm still mad.”

Tony sighs.

"I know,” He leans in the chair and sets aside a notebook.

“Tony," says Howard causing both of them to return to the screen. “You’re too young to understand this right now, so I thought I would put this film for you. I built this for you. And Someday you'll realize that it represents a whole lot more than just people’s inventions. It represents my life’s work. This is the key to the future,” He shows the model and the reactor. “I'm limited by the technology of my time, but one day you'll figure this out. And when you do, you will change the world. What is and always will be my greatest creation… is you,” The tape ends.

 "Do you think Grandpa Howard would love me?" Lily asks when the lights come on.

Tony laughs when he hears ‘Grandpa Howard’, he’s sure he wouldn’t like to be called that.

"I don’t know. Maybe he would love you more than me,” He looks at Lily.

"I am more adorable than you.”

Tony nods, unable to fight back. He sighs. He thinks about the words of his father and wonders why he was never like this with him when they were together. Why does he have to find out about this from a tape or from other people? Then he thinks of his own daughter and Fury's words come back to him.

Tony doesn't want Lily to grow up thinking that he was worse than Howard, he knows what he did.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you that day," He begins.

"And?" She says crossing her arms.

"And sorry for what you had to witness at the party.”

"And?"

Tony purses his lips.

“I'm sorry I failed you. I shouldn't have left you alone, or yell at you, or lie to you.”

"Nat told me that your chest was killing you,” He nods. "Didn't it occur to you to ask for help?"

“It is somewhat complicated. When you say that you are dying, everyone panics.”

"But then they help you.”

 "I guess so.”

Lily feels a lump in her throat. Just remembering that, she again feels afraid of losing her father without even knowing something about what was really going on.

"I don't like that you hide things from me or lie to me," she says with a broken voice.

“Sorry."

"No, you must promise that you won’t do it again,” she interrupts him.

Tony watches Lily's determination.

"I promise.”

“Mr. Fury said we are a team. You must do your part,” she says as she gets up.

"Mr. Fury?"

"Dad!"

"Okay, okay, I got it!” He argues. In that he remembers an unfinished business. Tony stayed for a moment in the destroyed mansion and as he passed through the kitchen he saw a burned box on the sides.

He walks over to his desk with Lily following him. He removes the remains from the box and carefully takes the gift from him.

"It's a good try…”

"But you didn't even open it," she complains.

"I'm sorry, but you were missing some details.”

Lily rolls her eyes.

 "I put it together by watching a video, it's not as if you had explained each part to me.”

“That can change. Do you remember the rules we agreed upon the first time you were in the workshop?" She nods. “Forget the question limit. From now on, you must ask.”

Lily can't help but smile.

“Agree."

"So, are we good now?"

"Yup, but if you do something wrong, I'll tell Mr. Fury to scold you again."

"He didn't scold me," He complains.

"Whatever you say. Now what shall we do?"

Tony sighs and then winces.

“I must go to Pepper, stay here and cover me with the secret agents. I will not be late.”

"Good luck.”

***

After a few hours, Tony returns with the demo that his father had shown on the tapes. He arms it on various tables.

“Cool," says Lily approaching.

Tony orders Jarvis to scan every detail so he can manipulate it, he takes the hologram and moves it away from the table.

“Open your eyes wide, Kid. The answer to our problems is here,” says Tony giving her a bench and he sits on another. They both look at the model.

"What do we have to look for?"

"A new element.”

“Easy," she says sarcastically.

"My father put it here, we just have to move some things,” He brings the projection towards the center, a sphere.

"He must have something at the core," Tony whispers.

Lily sees what is around.

"What if…?”

"What?"

"What if we put everything together?"

Tony frowns, but an idea crosses his mind.

Little by little, Tony is gathering the important aspects towards the center of the Expo and in each step, he’s explaining Lily. In the end he manages to find a new element, the possible solution to the problem of intoxication.

"Dead for almost twenty years, and still taking me to school,” He says watching his creation. "Nice work, Kid.”

She smiles.

"How will you make it work?" She asks.

"Unfortunately, it’s impossible to synthesize," reports Jarvis.

Tony gets up from his chair.

“Get ready for a major remodel, fellas! We're back in hardware mode. C’mon, kid.”

Between Lily and Tony - mostly Tony - they break down some walls, open the floor and use any energy source in the mansion to connect it to the workshop part. They both open some boxes that S.H.I.E.L.D left them and use every material they have on hand.

"Hold the lamp," Tony tells her.

"It's what I'm doing,” Lily claims while she also tries to see what Tony is doing.

"More to the right.”

"What does that do?"

“Gives more energy. Bring the lamp closer…”

In the meantime, neither of them notices that Phil walks into the shop.

"I heard you broke the perimeter,” says the agent.

"Whoops" says Lily.

"Uh, yeah. That was, like, three years ago. Where have you been?" Tony answers.

"I was doing some stuff.”

"Yeah, well, us too, and it worked.”

Coulson checks the boxes. He pulls out some kind of unfinished shield.

"What’s that?" asks Lily.

“It’s exactly what we need to make this work. Lily, take it,” She obeys. "Lift the coil,” He says to Coulson and between them they lift it up a bit. Enough for Lily to put it under. Tony sets the leveler. “Perfectly level. I'm busy what do you want?"

 Coulson warns him that he must go on another mission and says goodbye.

"Glad to see you are a part of it, Lily.”

"It was not easy,” she answers making him laugh.

The hours pass and they both go back to work. In the end, Tony gives Lily some special glasses and explains what they will do.

The energy is concentrated in the device.

"Initializing prismatic accelerator," reports Jarvis. Suddenly a fine laser is projected and reflected off a material.

"Get behind me,” Tony orders him.

Stark operates the machine with the laser, but not before cutting part of the wall where he directs it.

"Oh oh.”

“Oops!"

With difficulty, the laser reaches the small inverted triangle that Tony prepared so that the power would be trapped there. After a few minutes, they turn off the machine. Tony approaches and with tweezers takes the triangle and puts it in the reactor. The item’s accepted.

"We did it?" Lily asks.

“We did it."

She sighs in relief, right now she feels the exhaustion. She walks over to the couch and sits on it.

"Wake me up when we're in trouble," she warns him.

"Why would we be in trouble?"

 "Rhodey says we have that talent.”

"Makes sense.”

In that a beep is heard.

"Incoming call and with a blocked number, sir,” warns Jarvis.

“My phone privilege is reinstated. Lovely. Kid, we have the phone back!"

“Great," she answers from the couch.

"Coulson. How’s the land of enchantment?"

"Hey. Tony. How you doing?” The voice is unknown to Lily so she settles in the chair and leans out. "I doubled cycle."

"You what?"

“You told me double cycle’s more power. Good advice.”

"You sound pretty sprightly for a dead guy.”

"What?" whispers Lily. She gets up and walks over to Tony. He makes a sign so that she doesn't make noise.

"You too,” answers the man.

Tony removes his microphone from the call.

"Trace him,” he orders Jarvis.

“Now, the true history of Stark name will be written. Your secrets will be revealed at any moment."

"What is he talking about, dad?"

Tony ignores her and keeps checking the call.

 “What your father did to my family over forty years, I will do to you in forty minutes and I will make sure your offspring disappear. I hope you're ready,” He says, and then hangs up.

Tony sees Justin Hammer's announcement at Stark Expo on another screen, and based on the coordinates of the call, Vanko may have something planned for the event. He gets up and takes the new reactor.

"Dad?"

Stark replaces the reactor in his chest, after coughing a bit, the man feels the difference.

"Time to go,” He says walking towards his armor.

"Hey! No. You promised—”

"I have to go, Lily."

“But, you must tell me what happens. You promised not to lie to me,” She gets in her way. He sighs.

"Vanko, the man who tried to kill me in Monaco, wants to do something at the Expo and I have to stop him.”

“What does he plan to do?"

"I'm not sure. You must stay here. I'll talk to Fury about sending agents here. Turn on the TV, I'm sure they'll put it on,” He continues on his way.

“Dad," He turns again. "Be careful, please.”

Tony smiles and nods.

"Stay in the workshop in case I need your help.”

"You got it.”

Taglist:

@silenthappyplace​​ @yourbonesareinmybody​ @aylauwuuniverse    @skittles-skittles​ @hufflepuffzutara​ @poetryislife0715 @21bruhs​ @heavenlymistakes​ @my-love-of-books​ @dielgonacoffee​

[geekkatsblog]

Grey's Anatomy season 17×06 Review

(How the f**k they just gonna leave me on read like this till March 4th)

The episode was a rollercoaster but something tells me the real ride is going to happen from the next episode.

___________________________________________

Maggie

I knew Winston was gonna show up in person at some point or the other. When he dropped the long distance wasn't working line and put the phone down in her ear so he could get some 'eggs' I knew he was in Seattle, good for her she's going to need him to lean on seeing that Mer freaking crashed again. At least she'll have somebody there for her because all her other support is personally attached to Meredith as well.

Besides Winston turning up, treating Tom and her being understandably giddy at Mer being awake there was also a scene where she educated Amelia on some things now I won't get into the details again but I'm just in love with the fact that Grey's isn't afraid to touch on controversial topics, they use their large platform to raise awareness and their speeches are always on point.

___________________________________________

Teddy/Owen

(She needed the time off more than Bailey did tbh)

My God was it satisfying when Richard literally just tore into her. She put herself in the situation and is now taking her anger out on others which is really in poor taste. Poor Helm, I hope she didn't take it personally. At this point it's her time to annoy me, I miss the season 6 Teddy, hopefully she redeems herself soon. After being torn apart by Webber's words she then proceeds to make things worst by revealing yet another big secret to Owen at work. (At least this time it was on purpose.) She just needs to take some time away and think on what she really wants and needs to reflect before spontaneously starting potentially life changing conversations. First it was telling Tom they had a chance then it was telling Owen that she still loves him and the kids while also revealing that she named their daughter after not only her best friend but also the woman that she was very much in love with. Pick a struggle Teddy at this point she's seeming confused more than anything else.

___________________________________________

Owen

For the past few seasons Owen was one of the characters getting on my nerves but lately he's been fine. He hasn't redeemed himself yet but his probation is going fine. Watching this show really shows how good of a person a doctor has to be in order to follow the ethical guidelines. If I had that scum bag for a patient I would have literally just pretended to fail at saving him and let the guy die, (guess that's why the Lord made me suck at Chemistry and Physics) his response to Bob about him being at the devils barbecue was badass, gave me serious season 5 Owen vibes or vibes like when he punched that guy out for disrupting the ER when he was chief, Major Hunt reporting for duty.

As for him and Teddy I can get why he was upset, her he was about to attempt to make amends at probably rekindling a friendship or maybe their relationship and she revels that your daughter is named after her lover, she could have atleast told him that when they were in the naming process, he deserved to know exactly who his child was being named after. I'm kinda a bitch but there was no way I'd feel comfortable having my child named after my partner's lover. On the other hand he should hear her out he has literally cheated twice and both times he sat and was able to share his side of the story and the woman he was with listened to his explanations. Teddy deserves as much, it might hurt but he did the same and Karma unfortunately is still a bitch.

___________________________________________

Bailey

(I just wanted to give her a hug the whole night.)

She has a really unhealthy habit of working through her grief, first her miscarriage and now through the death of her mom. I'm honestly sad that Ben had to be the one to comfort Tuck and tell him his grandmother had even died (she's always so busy, Ben is pratically the one raising him at this point.) And I'm also upset that I haven't gotten to see Ben being there for her either. I'm assuming it might be a protocol on the sets.

At least she took time off of the cases, I understand why she didn't want to go home as a doctor she has the highest risk of transporting the virus, but her mind understandably wasn't going to be in the doctoring game. I really thought they were gonna make her freeze up and accidentally kill a patient or something, but at least they didn't go down that line. And what even happened to her dad? did he take the Covid test? Wheres he staying now? Is he safe?

The conversations between her and Deluca were sweet, it's another unexpected friendship, before the only one she really disclosed any details of her life with was Richard but now they're opening her support group which is fine. I'm also glad that Deluca was able to look past the whole fiasco last season and hold no grudges. She has now fully redeemed herself completely, she's still my all time favorite character but from season 13 to probably mid season 16 she really had some storylines and scenes that irked me to watch and made me question some things, but now she's back on track at least to me.

Also I know that Richard is the chief of chiefs but how are they just gonna let him take back over the surgery unit like that again? I mean I did miss him as chief but now Bailey just basically seems like a regular old surgeon with a fancy office, idk it just seems kinda weird to me.

___________________________________________

Jackson

Not only carrying on the work and teachings of Mark Sloan but also using his boatload of cash to rescue a patient's mother from racist police who should have been the ones actually in prison. That was basically it for him though.

___________________________________________

Jo

Oml I honestly almost forgot she was even really in the episode. She had so little screen time. She's still in the middle of transitioning to OB. I have no issue with that because OB's still can do surgery, so we'll still get to see her and she'll be happy again plus it's about time that Grey's cashes in that Regulars card on Carina. We see her on Station 19 as an accessory I want to see the Jo and Carina tag team.

___________________________________________

Amelia

Not really much in this episode. No content with Link she just did surgery to save the scum with Owen. They may have made a mediocre couple but they work good as friends. Also I'm assuming she's off of maternity leave now? Did they mention that I'm not sure but she's back now.

___________________________________________

Richard

Not much of a storyline, he made the decision to put Meredith on the Vent and is busy running the hospital as the chief of the hospital again I guess. And also spitting the much needed facts that Teddy needed to hear.

___________________________________________

Tom

They're finally showing more of Tom's good side, I mean I always liked him and saw the potential in his character but they never really showed his soft side for a prolonged period like they did today. May I just say I enjoyed his and Meredith's friendly banter they have the same lowkey dark humor and at least it would have taken their minds off of being sick especially for him because he basically has no one else. Hearing him open up about his son and expressing how he'd do anything to hear him say dad again was sad I can only imagine his pain. Meredith was his reason for holding on especially after he had to witness his roommate die from Covid, the same thing he's suffering from right before his eyes and now Mer back unconscious this time with a tube down her throat I'm just really hoping that he keeps the faith, the last thing we need is a death right now.

___________________________________________

Meredith

(God damn it Mer all you had to do was stay awake.)

For a few brief moments all was right with the world Meredith was awake and everyone was happy and then she just had to go be Wonder Woman and over exert herself, but that's the thing they would have probably needed armed guards at the doors to keep her from putting someone else's life above her own, its one of her best qualities and at times one of her worst. I knew it was too good to be true when she was awake and laughing. It was giving me Mark Sloan final episode vibes. They better not kill her off that would be the worst ending for me, what about the kids? Step off the damn beach Mer you've gone through too much to let Covid take you out. On the other hand this gives us more beach scenes. It's more unlikely to have a live character return but there's still lots of dead ones to choose from, her mother is always a likely suspect, Denny loved being on the show and I think Breaking bad had its final season, Mark is a toss up based on how he cut ties with the show and Lexie is also a toss up because she is filming Supergirl in another country, however anything is possible with Grey's. I thought the beach scenes were over because she was waking up but look how wrong I was. All I hope is that they don't kill her off its unlikely because she's the main character but still its Grey's they like to go out with a bang.

___________________________________________

Deluca

I left him for last because to me he really did have the biggest storyline of the night.

Firstly I'm glad to see that at least part of the earliers season's Deluca has returned. I loved him as the passionate, badass and almost cocky guy as well but I always missed his more compassionate and softer side more. I'm glad to see it back and I'm also glad to see that he's taking his meds and resting, and I can confirm that having support is a needed factor in treating mental health. As strange as it was seeing the Bailey and Deluca chat it's good that they both have each other. They both suffer from mental illnesses and can relate to each other on a different level. They have me wondering now if they're going to use his mental health issues as a way to separate him and Mer, or use it as the reason why he pursued her, kinda like how they tried to blame Amelia's tumor for her bad decisions and then used it to break her and Owen up. I guess we'll just have to see where Merluca will go from here or if it will manifest Merhaynes instead.

Now onto the big stuff, the whole sex trafficking thing the whole episode I was literally yelling at the tv for either Deluca, Bailey or Carina to see that bitch, the moment it was connected that the kidnapper was involved in trafficking and she showed up I knew shit was about to go down. My heart was racing when I saw her with Schmitt. I really thought she was going to attack him with how sus she was being, luckily she had to go to avoid further suspicion. They need to put security on those girls' door. They've been through enough. If she goes to finish off Bob then no one cares but the girls don't deserve to go through anything else and Deluca after seeing her decided to go after him himself instead of calling the police, granted the police wasn't doing anything helpful but the last thing we need is for him to go after her himself like Superman and trying to save the day. At least Carina went with him so she can help talk him down if necessary but there's only so much she can do.

___________________________________________

There are too many damn superheroes in that hospital.

___________________________________________

My questions are:

• Will both Tom and Meredith make it out of the Covid sickness or will one or even both of them die?

• Will Teddy finally make her mind up so that the Teddy, Tom and Owen love triangle can finally have an ending?

• Who the hell is coming to the beach next? And can they tell Meredith to get her ass off of the beach and never return until she's like 80?

• Will Superman, I mean Deluca save the day without needing medical attention afterwards? Or worst yet needing a casket?

• Is Jo actually switching specialties?

• Are they going to go after the girls or kill Bob instead?

• How is it going to go with Maggie and Winston now that he has arrived in person?

• And lastly and most importantly what am I supposed to do with my Thursday nights until March 4th.

[random-mha-thoughts]

Creep part 2 (Bakugou x Reader)

Pairing: Bakugou x fem!Reader

Genre: Spice!

Sequel to Creep (part 1)

Summary: Your roommate forces you to a dorm hangout with her boyfriend where you get hit on by a creep, only to have Bakugou come along and help you with the situation.

Word count: 2,835

Tags:  @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog

a/n: More spice than the first part ;)  This one took a different turn from the first part, so I hope you all like it!  The ending might be a little rushed because I’m really exhausted and I wanted to finish this before I pass out on my keyboard.

This part was inspired by a Tiktok that was going to be a completely different scenario, but it ended up fitting perfectly as a sequel, so I used it!

Also I hit 100 followers!?  In 2 weeks?!  What are y’all following me for, I’m trash!?  Nonetheless thank you for supporting my tiny blog out of the vast world of Tumblr, I really appreciate it.  100 followers may not seem like a lot for some of you, but I never expected this to happen and I’m so grateful for each of you 😘😘  Ok enough of the mushy stuff, onward to the sequel!

Maybe I was hit by cupid's arrow.  Or the devil's, considering the type of thoughts I'm having.

I'm not usually the kind of person who lusts over people or their appearances.  I'll at least acknowledge them as hot and then move on, but I don't dwell on them.  Until I went back to our shared dorm still wearing Bakugou's hoodie and started having flashbacks of our few moments together.  His scent coupled with the memory of his smirk and those intense crimson eyes left me with a lingering high.  We had left things unfinished, and that little nagging in the back of my head drove me to do something I wouldn't normally do.

And that was stalking him.  I ended up scrolling through Ochaco's following list for his profile, and finding it was akin to discovering a hidden treasure.  From the outline of his build in that long-sleeve shirt I last saw him in, I knew there was something there.  While his profile displayed mostly pictures of his friends hanging out, there were also clips of him training in the gym.  Only when I chose those to watch those and scrolled to the end of the set would I be gifted with a beautiful mirror selfie of him in a black tank top.  Even just standing there, hands in his pockets or arms crossed across his chest, the curve of his arms and veins straining underneath entice me.

But that wasn't what stands out to me the most.  It's actually his neck.  In the small amount of time I'd spoken to him, the moment that he removed his hood and exposed it to me is the image that replays the most.  The structure of his muscles and his collarbone melding together into a perfect sculpture of a man.  That's what mostly haunted me.  To think it's one of the more sensitive parts of him makes my heart pound a little harder.  In every picture, it was the first thing I looked for.

"You planning on taking that off anytime soon?"

I jolted when Ochaco's sly comment awoke me from my reverie.  "Yeah, I just needed to check something first," I tried to play it off before - reluctantly - ripping the hoodie off of me.

And now, the day after that, I have to give it back to him.  This morning, a rogue though flashed into my mind: instead of simply handing it to him, I could wear it to class and have him watch me peel it off my body.  Such a thought never occurred to me before, startling me for being brash.

I did wear it though. I told myself it was cold in the classroom and I would need it.

When I walked into the classroom, I didn't dare to glance at the back for him since my thoughts haven't been the purest and I think I might've choked if I didn't mentally prepare myself.  If he was nice enough, he would have respected that sign, but he wasn't.

As soon as I turned around from getting a pen from my bag, there he was leaning on my desk, earning an embarrassing squeal from me.

His head tilts against his arm.  "That's a lovely shade on you."

My breath stops for a millisecond.  Huh?

Bakugou twirls one of the strings on the hoodie around his finger.  "The black matches your nails."

Oh.  Duh.  "Yeah?  I might keep it then."  Just to make my point, I pull the hood up on my head.  "You're probably not getting this back."

"Hording my clothes now?"  He clicks his tongue, "Sounds like you're the creep now.  Or just a thief."

Haaa, you don't know the half of it.  From the position he's in, leaning down on the desk and resting his head on his arm, there's a very perfect view of his neck and collarbone right in front of my eyes from under his black shirt and denim jacket.  I try not to linger on it and force myself to concentrate on his face instead.  "I'll give it back after class, this room is always too cold for me."  But today it feels just a bit hotter.

We agree to get lunch and head to the library after class until the professor arrives and he returns to his seat, but not before sending a wink my way.  I clutch the neck of the hoodie, stunned as the gesture spirals be back to us almost kissing, before the fire alarm rudely interrupted everything.  For the rest of class, I'm more concerned with how to take off an oversized hoodie in a sexy way than any kind of modern British prose.

.

We decide on staying on one of the library floors where a moderate level of talking is allowed, taking over a small, private study room where the door is transparent and there's a rectangular glass window to see inside.  I'm partially thankful for the extra insurance keeping me from possibly jumping on him, but that doesn't keep me from staring and letting my mind run wild.

Bakugou chose the seat at the head of the table and I chose the seat adjacent to him.  "I can't get over how the old hag typed out an entire 7 page guideline on how to write this paper.  Does she expect us to write a dissertation or something?!"

I slurp my udon.  "She needs to chill.  I thought her sarcastic humor was funny the first week of class, but she's getting on my nerves now."

"Then why do you keep laughing at all her jokes?"

"Because I need to kiss up to her so she can at least remember me to give me a good grade for one."  I put a piece of chicken in my mouth.  "And also, I'm low key scared of her killing my first born child."

Bakugou almost chokes on his Mapo Tofu laughing at that, throwing his head back and slamming the table.  The image of me kissing his neck flashes through me and cuts my laugh short.  Calm yourself!  I clear my throat.  "Speaking of scary people, if I had met you at the party, I would've had a very different impression of you, since you were much more...aggressive there."

He has a confused expression before he looks down at his food.  "You mean how I was screaming playing that game?"

"Yeah."  I note how uncomfortable he looks on the subject.  "I guess people usually think that of you?"

"Something like that.  I was kind of a loudmouth in high school, I think I've gotten better."  He turns to me, twirling his chopsticks in his hand curiously.  "What was your first impression of me?"

I shrug.  "You're quiet, you have a brain in your head, and you like to sleep in class sometimes."

The blond snorts, "People don't usually associate me with 'quiet,' you'd be the first."

Should I be flattered by that? I wonder.

We finish our meals without another word.  I pull out my laptop and start looking through the guidelines for our paper again.  "I don't even know what book I want to write about, they're all so boring."

Bakugou shrugs, still peering into his laptop screen.  "I would just pick the one with a theme you can bullshit the most about."

"I guess," I slump down onto my arm.  I always liked reading growing up so I didn't think I would have a tough time in this class, but the professor really drains the energy out of me.

I feel a bit hot in his hoodie, perking up at the opportunity to pique his interest.  Maybe I can lift it up so my shirt underneath slides up and shows my stomach a little?  Would that be sexy?  How do I remove it casually enough in one swift movement without fucking it up?  Maybe he'll find any way I do it attractive, because hopefully that's how guys think.

I decide to just try it an see how it goes.  Lifting it with both hands from the bottom, I drag the hoodie up and almost get it over my head, feeling my shirt underneath lifting below it.  I try straightening my back to make my posture look a little more curvy than I probably already am.  The problem I face is getting it off my head, which immediately dampers my effortlessly-sexy act into an awkward one.  I have to slip my arms out from the sleeves and push it up from underneath, messing my hair up slightly in the process.

I sneak a glance out of the corner of my eye to gauge his reaction in case he saw it.  There is none, his eyes are still glued to the screen.

Well, that was kind of a fail, I think, throwing the hoodie onto the space between us.  I'm just a bit disappointed that I can't channel my inner flirt around boys I like, but it's not the end of the world.

"Too bad, I thought you look pretty good in my hoodie," he spares me a smug grin.

I freeze up at the statement, heat rushing to my cheeks.  "I think so too," I murmur, "Maybe I should steal your jacket too."

He stops tapping on his keyboard and stares at me with an unfamiliar emotion.  I'm about to ask what he's thinking before he removes his jacket and hands it to me.  "I'd like to see that."

I almost think it's a joke, but I take it from him anyway, draping it around my shoulders without putting my arms through the sleeves.  I get the sense that it might be too big on me if I put it on.  A fresh bout of his scent comes with it, sending me into another spiral of unhealthy thoughts.

"I think the universe is trying to tell me something, because you look good in all my clothes," Bakugou leans back in the seat, looking down his nose at me.

The implication makes my heart flutter.  "Yeah, they're actually mine and you'd stolen them from me before.  Or you just have a really girlish figure."  Like hell I believe that, you were probably sculpted from stone by the gods.

"Pfft, whatever you say," he rolls his eyes and looks back his laptop, scanning over the notes he wrote down.  "So, this is the list of themes for each of the books we read for class, wanna hear it just in case it triggers something for you?"

My mind is still hung on the sculpted from the gods thought, so I absently nod  while staring at him to make him think I'm paying attention.  In reality, my thoughts wander to the pictures I'd seen of him a few nights ago, the gym mirror selfies in his tank tops.  His arms are definitely just a teaser for what he probably has underneath that shirt, and I'm betting on there being a washboard waiting for me to run my hands over, judging by the brief glance I had down his shirt earlier.

Unconsciously, my eyes trace down to his black button down.  It practically teases me, his top 2 buttons undone to expose all of his collarbone and the top of his defined chest.  I don't have to go by the low quality mirror posts on his profile or the fuzzy memories from the party, it's right there for me to see.  Flashes of me running my fingers over his neck as I nibble on his ear, rogue noises of his hypothetical sighs of bliss, my hands spreading his shirt open to allow for more space to kiss down his muscular neck.  Each new image quickens my heart rate and sends a new tremor down my body.

I'd love to just devour him.

"Hey!"

Both his voice and the rational one in my head snap me back to reality.  Did I really just-

Annoyance creases in his brow as I recompose myself and sit up straight.  "Sorry, I didn't catch the last thing," my voice comes out noticeably strained.

"What's wrong with you-"  Just like that, his face crosses with an awareness that only morphs into a smirk.  "I guess you're letting your mind wander."

My eyes widen.  Shit, he knows, I'm caught!  "No, I'm just-"

"We've only known each other for a day and you're already obsessed with me, aren't you?"  He leans forward, only to have me lean back, but he pulls the collar of his jacket on me to keep me in place.  "That might be a little unhealthy, don't you think?"

I'm staring at his descending lips, part of me holding a desire for them to quell the feeling I've locked up.

Bakugou hums low, breath caressing my face.  "I think we have some unfinished business from the other night.  You must've been thinking about that."  His gaze flickers down to my slightly agape lips before slamming his down on them.  Though it's not delicate by any means, it still feels like a tester.  Electricity shudders through me at our long-awaited reunion, and when he pulls away for a moment to look down at me with half-lidded eyes, I know he feels the same thing.

And something breaks free inside me.  I hurriedly press my lips back against his, catching him by surprise.  I take the lead, quickening the tempo of our kisses as one of my hands tangle in his soft hair, not giving either of us time to breathe.  Leaning forward into him, my stomach presses into the table corner between us, and I break away from him.  Allowing only a few pants, I jolt from my seat and round the corner to take the place of his lap and join our lips again forcibly, my knees on either side of him, pressing our bodies together against the back of the chair and swiveling into the table for stability.  He was caught off guard before, but he melts into me and allows his hands to grab my waist.

I trail my tongue onto his lower lip before tracing my lips across his jaw.  "You weren't expecting this, were you?"  I breathe against the shell of his ear, his natural musk filling my nostrils.

A low groan escape him.  "I didn't think you wanted me this much.  Must've driven you a little crazy somehow."

My hand tangled in his hair drags down his neck, my nails grazing it ever so slightly, eliciting another growl from him and his grip me tighter.  "I'll show you some of what I was just thinking about."  Starting at the base of his ear, I pepper more open-mouthed kisses down the same neck that's haunted me, sometimes tickling my tongue over the spots he  stiffens up at.

Once I reach the base of his neck, barely caressing that taunting collarbone, I move the opening in his shirt away to expose more of his chest to me, continuing up to where his shoulder and neck conjoin, remaining there to massage it with my lips and lightly graze my teeth on it.  "This little creeper wanted to taste this neck you love to flaunt."  I pull away and meet his wanton gaze.  "I wonder if I should mark it."

Calloused hands dig under my shirt as he catches his breath.  "Depends.  What kind of relationship do you want from me?"  He's holding himself back.

I never stopped to think about it.  He's a pretty great guy, we have pretty strong chemistry, and we bounce off each other really well, not to mention he's the only guy to have awakened such new feelings from me.  Looping my arms around his neck and joining our foreheads together, I mutter against his lips, "Let's go on a few dates maybe?"

He smirks and gives me another slow kiss before pulling away.  "Deal.  But let's take this slow.  I can very easily do something like this to you too, but then how will I get to know you?"

I sit back on his thighs.  "Fair point.  And, just an aside," my face gets warmer at my admittance, "I don't normally do this.  I'm usually more reserved, but you're different, I guess."

"I think you were just really thirsty for a real man," he winks, earning a shove in the chest from me.  "That was an impressive show though, I'll give you credit.  Maybe later, I can show you what goes on in my head.  Except, it's a lot more than just a few neck kisses."

I almost choke on that, my cheeks growing even hotter.

Bakugou's expression softens, the teasing disappearing.  "But before that, we can enjoy ourselves in calmer things.  Like dinner?  Or bowling?"

My chest swells with something lighter than desire.  "Sounds like a plan."

He plants a kiss on my nose.  "Okay, now get off before someone walks in on us.  It's a study room, not a make out room, creep."

I get off him and settle back into my seat.  "I think I prefer the term 'perv,' thank you very much."

[level247-table-tech]

here are the sprites on their own! not all of them, but there are way too many to fit up there. i’m leaving the rest under the cut.

others include significantly asymmetrical sprites, as well as a bonus set. 8)

these don’t really clarify their relative heights. they are not adjusted to the bottom pixel i actually drew for sure, that’s not how i aligned them. i actually have a guideline in the file, but. i can’t really show that.

above are the regular sprites. it took ages to figure out what i wanted to do with virgil’s plaid, but it turned out going simple with it was the best plan. also it looked very bad until i figured out to use values correctly.

also, while we’re at it, i can tell you some things i changed between projects! this is a remaster of my last attempt at pixelology, and i do  believe it’s an overall improvement.

virgil’s plaid, yeah, changed that, but also the colour of his hair, because the old one blended too much with his skin. glad that happened to virgil, because i was trying to keep the hair highlights the same for everyone, with differently-tinted shadows. i did give him a bat instead of the wings this time, because a, he seems like a bat kind of guy, and b, the wings sucked and i don’t think i could improve them. like, the best thing about those wings is that they were the ace flag colours, and since his general colour scheme is already like that, it’s not a spectacular saving grace. they also made the frame fit weird, but i don’t like drawing wings absurdly small, like why bother? i alos tried to be a bit more competent with the jacob lines in his shading. those are an indicator of fear so of course i wanted to keep them included, but last time i feel like i didn’t do great, and this time i think i improved. especially on the legs. it is kind of a pain how there are adjacent sections where the shadows are done in the same colour, but. that’s really who virgil is, let’s be real. wouldn’t be the same without the all-black clothes.

also, patton’s different skin tones were really bad, you could barely see the shadows, so i changed them. his overall shape also did not work, so this time i stylized it a bit more to fit with the pixels. also i gave him a different weapon. hopefully it’s still funny in its incongruity!

roman had very little change. like, i really like his original sprite! i did change some of the gold details, but the biggest thing is probably the pants. they’re white with a red stripe because, a, it looks very good, and b, it set up a parallel with remus.

and remus. most obviously in the first one, his different head angle super didn’t work. it was very bad! which, in his case doesn’t automatically rule it out, but this one looks way better next to the majority of these. i mentioned relative heights earlier and this one should actually be the same height as roman, you can align them by their chins. aside from that, i added a lot mor detail to his ruffles, i tried my best to maintain clarity on his torso, i got the sleeves just plain wrong, but it looks fine, and it happened to be very good art that led me astray on that, so whatever. i feel like his morningstar might have gotten worse between versions, but what can you do. maybe i accidentally put it at a slightly harder angle to make look nice. whatever.

logan! i don’t think i’m doing these in any real order, sorry. like patton, his shape has been changed to be more stylized to fit the pixel thing. like, a realistic taper on the legs, as it turns out, looks pretty bad! exaggerate it or make it just straight lines and it is better. i feel like i very much improved his hair, and i also added the belt that he wears which i forgot last time.

lastly, janus. well, lastly for now, but the next one won’t be a remaster of anything. i gave him his canon weapon instead of snakes, which, not sure what i was thinking gameplay-wise for those. [that’s a lie, i was thinking nothing about gameplay because i am no gamemaker. i’m not even an animator, much as i’d like to be.] when i made his last sprite, i forgot the lining of his cape is yellow. also last time i had not seen the magnificent longer cape from the game sections of svsr, which as i’ve mentioned elsewhere i am never letting go of, ever. so that features here. it kind of blends with the backgrounds i use for the vs character selection screens, but i don’t think that’s necessarily a downside. aside from that, i did remove some scales from his right hand because we have now seen it, and it’s proven bereft of those. as you’ll see in a second though, fortunately no such thing can be said of his legs. nor upper arm.

now for the bonus set. you may recognize this theme if you’ve followed this project awhile. 8)

some notes on these specifically:

-this is simply a complete set based on janus’ bonus sprite from the original project this is remastering.

-i tried to base the colours on their onesies. that proved harder than expected. remus and janus have no shown onesies, but

>i had janus’ previous sprite on hand, so that was him taken care of.

>virgil’s onesie didn’t really have multiple colours, so it’s just different shades of black, with some grey thrown in because white is already a base colour.

>logan’s, oh boy, i thought i remembered it having two colours, but i was wrong, it is just blue. and white, but again, that doesn’t work. so i gave him a couple of shades.

>patton’s, i didn’t really want to use grey as a colour, but it actually had two others, they were just in trace amounts. it was okay.

>remus. nghh. i wanted to use like, an inverted version of roman’s colours, but it turns out blue and yellow inverted is yellow and blue. so i used the orthogonal colours instead, and i’m not really sure it was a good look.

-aside from colour schemes, each of these has its own little variation, because i felt like having fun. aside from any kind of socks/leggings, because whatever, those are pretty variable anyway, each has one detail different. from most to least noticeable as i see it:

>patton has pants instead of a skirt. i just thought the look suited him better. the thing about patton is i always imagine him in Dad Fashion, which doesn’t have a ton of skirts in my mind. maybe that’s just my dad, but eh. i do think it’s a good look but i didn’t draw it very well.

>roman has a different crown. need i explain further? adding the others’ crowns was a bit of a pain considering how they interact with hair that isn’t drawn in anime style.

>virgil’s might not be too noticeable on its own, but the leggings kind of direct the eye there. he’s wearing his own boots instead of any variety of sailor scout ones. mostly because they are much, much cooler.

>logan has a different collar. closer to his usual polo than... whatever the sailor collar is actually called. he also might not have the same choker necklace as everyone else, but mostly you just can’t tell. still tied with a weird bow thing, though. how the hell do those bow accessories work?

>janus has a longer cape. again, need i explain further? he’s also the only one with a magical girl wand, because his colour scheme* was the most permitting and i really wanted to draw coily ribbons.

>remus is kind of like virgil with the leggings, but again, those don’t count, and with remus they draw attention away from his change. anyways, the different thing about his outfit is the sleeves. i only noticed long after i was out of the pixel stage that none of the sleeves are accurate, but his are even more not accurate, they do the poof thing. also his neckline’s a bit lower, but i mean, how could i not?

-i might assemble a full scene with these, if anybody asks. or nobody, i kinda just want to. it’s not too much trouble, but it won’t be animated this time, that took ages and i don’t think it even turned out well. i gotta find somewhere to actually get taught things about animation, though it also just does not gel with my medium.

-i can’t for most of these, but for janus i can talk about some improvements. his crown looks more visible, though that might just be compared to this side of his face. the skirt is not better and might be worse to be honest. also the bow on his chest. other than that it’s definitely better for the gloves actually being incorporated in this one.

*i do actually have set colour schemes for these. i tried to even limit the number of colours for each one. that said, most of them have exactly 17 instead of the nice power of two 16, and one of them couldn’t even fit that bill.

[1zashreena1]

Diego Requests an Audience -1

18+, m/f, technically OCxDiego Jimenez [Power]

Summary: Princess gets the rich bad boy equivalent of a call the next day from what she thought was a fairy tale of a one night stand.

WARNINGS: Ridiculous descriptions and 'the code is more like guidelines' outlook on grammar. Is it OOC if the character was given essentially zero development in canon???

Mentions of drugs/alcohol use, no actual smut in this one but references to multiple forms of sexual activity with m/f dynamics, plus size woman+fit man, early stage sugar daddy vibes, bad boys with too much money and not enough impulse control, secondary OCs, excessive swearing (???), illegal business dealings... I mean, its DIEGO

A/N: Princess took on a life of her own and has essentially become an OC. There are infrequent mentions of her description (specifically as plus size) and her actual name in later pieces (its Bicki). She started as self-insert so she looks like me. If that is not your thing, I totally understand. And do not feel obligated to read this, I will not be offended!

I'm not a fan of "plot" so be aware that most of this series is just meandering through their relationship, angst-fluff-smut whiplash style. But with dick jokes.

Constructive criticism is always welcome. I'm an old timer at Fandom but a baby content creator.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read @chelsfic Princess pieces first, that is the beginning.

https://chelsfic.tumblr.com/post/613340476058304512/princess-for-1zashreena1-diego-jimenez-x

https://chelsfic.tumblr.com/post/618297838815920128/princess-awakes-diego-jim%C3%A9nez-x-reader-ficlet

Last thing before Murder Panther, I promise!

Huge, tremendous, throbbing THANK YOU to @chelsfic​ !  My fanfic creator mommy, I could not and would not have done this without you or your devious reverse psychology  You're gonna have to thwack me super duper hard with a rolled up newspaper to get rid of me because ily.

Massive shoutouts to @symbiont13​ @rosee-sensuelle​ @bunnykjm​ @mandoplease​ @nicke0115​ (y’all know what you did)

You're sitting in your car on your lunch break listening to the same song for the seventh time in a row because that is a thing that you do. When you like something, you like it. The song has pounding bass, if you close your eyes you can almost imagine being in a club. You never did get to do much of that, your twenties were spent working two jobs and sleeping in your car sometimes, so your just passed birthday weekend escapade was really something else. You've never done anything like that before and it was-

Ding-DING

Your phone chirps with a text message from an unknown number. You peer at the screen with a furrowed brow, I don't know anyone in California, must be a wrong number. You open the message cautiously, who knows what kind of weirdness it might be. 

Good morning Princess

What. No. There is no way. Absolutely not possible. Un uhh. Nope.

You should come back to NYC. I want to have you again.

Holy fucking shit. Its really him. It's Diego. Its Diego of the big brown eyes, even bigger hands, and absolutely the biggest cock you have ever seen. Diego viciously-gorgeous stupefyingly-rich incredibly-dangerous exhaustingly-insatiable Jimenez. 

Whom you most definitely did not Google upon your return home only to discover that he is an international criminal. Yeah, he's criminally hot.

You really do wish that little voice in the back of your mind was helpful. 

Yes, but he was nice to you. Really not helpful. How many times did you even come that night? There was the bed, the floor, over the back of the sofa, the kitchen counter (which he referred to as 'snack time' because he ate, and wasn't that adorable), and then that kiss/invasion of your oral cavity before you left. After he made you breakfast. And gave you a pair of Ugg boots that were magically in your size because it was cold out. Okay, so he was REALLY nice.

Wait. I didn't give him my number, what the fuck.

Hi Diego

And you hit send before you can stop yourself. What in the actual fuck am I doing?

I knew you remembered me. 😉Come up here this weekend. I want you

He wants you. He said it himself. Oh my god oh my god oh my god. Like, want-want? He saw you naked in broad daylight so he definitely knows what you look like. I want you, your mind just keeps repeating it. Hold up, is an international drug lord, cartel boss, top ten FBI most wanted man texting you with emojis???

I hadn't really budgeted on another trip so soon

Is that too much? Are you revealing your pathetic poor-ness and he definitely will not be into that?

Please🤚 Do you want to come?

Oh lordy, but he knows exactly how to word things. 

… I mean, yeah. Preferably repeatedly

Okay, yes, you've always been a pervert but something about this man only encourages you. Surely it wasn't how he laughed every time you made an innuendo. 

Then I've got you 💵😙 Princess👑

Do you want a hotel or stay with me?

Harrisburg is your nearest airport, yes?

Never before in your life have you had cause to use the word 'Baller' but here you are. Is he seriously going to fly me to him? Am I seriously going to go? What level of booty call is this?

Penthouse. Spoil me 😏

And yes Harrisburg. What are you going to do, fly me up there?? Lol

At this point you might as well see how far you can milk this. Also, apparently he knows where you live?

...yes. I have a private jet. I'll text you the info. We're going to have fun little girl😈

Well damn. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You send the entire conversation to Lisa in three screenshots. She calls you at 4:37 while she knows you're still in the car and you spend the entire drive home screaming together as best friends do. 

"I can't believe him! A private jet? Oh my god girl, you better bring home some stacks!"

"I know! Like, what the fuuuuuuuuuck! Lisa, Lisa, oh my god, Lis, what the hell should I pack?! Oh no, oh shit, I don't have any sexy pajamas!" Your high is coming crashing down. Its Tuesday, so you have two whole days to figure this out.

Her laughter is so loud it makes your speakers crackle. "After what you told me from that first night it sounds like you better pack a case of lube and an ice pack!" She dissolves into hysterics.

Well, she's not wrong. "Dude! I was so sore, I couldn't walk for days. This shit is BYOIP: Bring Your Own Ice Pack!" Lisa shrieks while you howl with laughter. 

"Okay, okay. Meet me at Macaroni Grill and we'll formulate a strategic plan of attack over carbs. We have to go to the Frederick's of Hollywood outlet." Lisa is already crafting a plan. 

"See, this is why you're my BFF!" You proclaim before you whip across three lanes of traffic to change course. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You take way more clothing than you could possibly need for a weekend but better safe than sorry. The private jet looks like it came straight out of a music video, you're afraid to even think about how much this costs. Hell, he even paid to have your car valet parked in the only locked and guarded parking garage at this tiny regional airport. There are all kinds of snacks and drinks on the plane, there's even a tiny galley and what looks like a daybed. Noted for later.

The driver who picks you up at the airstrip in New York is Bastian and he is pleasantly surprised that you talk to him. You're pleasantly surprised at how nice Escalades are on the inside. The last time you were in this vehicle you were a little, ahem, distracted.

Diego is extraordinarily pleased to see you wearing the Ugg boots he gave you. The man is all growly innuendo and (mostly) gentlemanly manners, the contrasts are mind-meltingly hot. The weekend passes in a blur of a good time; orgasms, a stroll through some really expensive stores, more orgasms, two clubs on Saturday night, another set of orgasms (Did I really let him finger me in a VIP booth??), your first time trying weed, a sleepy orgasm in a jacuzzi tub (Wet Diego, so gorgeous), the best brunch of your life, another first by having orgasms while on top of a man, and, just before you leave on Sunday evening, a very nice Brahmin purse that you gawked at in one of the stores on Saturday. 

Yet again, Diego corners you by the elevator and attempts to climb down your throat before you're allowed to leave. You have no complaints.

~~~~~~~~~~

The very next Monday you get an extremely sweet text very early in the morning thanking you for coming (all puns intended). Wednesday brings a cookie bouquet to your front door with a note stating that you don't seem like a flowers kind of girl. Incredibly early on Saturday morning is another text, he sounds like he might be a little drunk, confessing that he wants to do it again. 

You forward the message to Lisa with your own addition:

Look, all I'm saying is I'm gonna take this top shelf dick and all the gifts that come with it for as long as he wants to give it to me

It only progresses from there.

[your-highnessmarvel]

OMG Ellen You Didn’t!

Requested by Anonymous: Absolutely, so Chris x reader met at an industry party, she’s a newbie, he’s smitten when he first lays eyes on her dark chocolate skin.She a fan but she’s hesitant, she doesn’t know if he’s as cool as he seems. He approaches her, they hang out, she opens up about her past struggle with anxiety &he’s there for her &helps her navigate the craziness of the industry. Their friendship develops into a relationship, Chris falls hard for the one person he thought he’d never find...her, his future wife.

AN: THIS IS THE TYPE OF SPECIFIC I ABSOLUTELY LOVE UGH YAS. I made this comedic because i’ve been writing fluff and angst all day and my pretty poor heart hurts lol. i’ve struggled with anxiety my whole life without knowing, and when i finally put a word on it, it’s like i finally came to terms with who i was. to whoever suffers anxiety, past or present, my blog is a safe zone and so are my messages.

Warnings: angst, mentions of anxiety

*gif not mine

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MASTERLIST

Ellen gives a hug to Chris and they share a knowing laugh. She shakes your hand because she sees how nervous you are; what with the applauding audience and the screaming women. 

Wow, you think, this is what it’s like being famous. Or more, being married to a famous guy.

Ellen encourages you both to sit. “Chris, so good to have you back,” she says. 

Chris smiles, devilishly handsome as always. “Always good to be here, Ellen.”

“And Y/N, welcome to the show.”

You smile nervously, thankful for your sleeveless top for airing out your armpits. “Thank you for having me.”

Ellen smiles, crosses her leg over her knee, settles in. You take it as a cue to lean back into the couch, and Chris puts his arm comfortably behind you. From afar, it looks like regular couple stuff. But you know Chris is doing it for you; to make you feel safe with him, to let you know he is there. It is your first TV interview after all. 

“So, it’s my understanding that Chris was the one running after you, Y/N?” Ellen asks. The audience laughs, and Chris gives you that puppy dog stare that makes your tummy fill with hot butterflies.

“Yeah he was like... head over heels for me.” You laugh when Ellen gives Chris a look. 

“I mean,” Chris says, “look at her. How could I not?”

“What did he even do?” Ellen asks with a devilish smirk.

~~~ 

You wade your way through the crowd of faces, nervously biting the inside of your cheek. This party - this party with Hollywood figures - was filled with faces you’d seen on the Oscars stage as well as on the big screen. Your mind was going half a mile an hour and every time someone addressed a word to you, you’d stammer. 

So you opted for staying on your own to avoid any more social suicide. You took a half full bottle of tequila and all but ran into a corner where there was a love seat and a perfect view of downtown New York. You sat with a relieved sigh, readjusting your top. 

One more thing about Hollywood; everyone dressing fucking fancy for hella casual evenings. Like, this was a lowkey chilling that you were at, which you’d been invited by your staff team leader on the movie you were working on. Chilling means casual, right? Boy oh boy. Leonardo DiCaprio was wearing a full tux over there, hanging with his girl in a hot red dress. 

You scratched the inside of your elbow nervously. You had opted for an over-sized sweater and leggings with fuzzy socks. Even the butler was dressed better than you were. 

Ugh, you thought, I should have stayed home, but no, I wanted to get to know some celebs. Idiot. 

You could feel the judgment from some people, but most of them treated you as if you were a fly on the wall. 

You took a swing of the bottle, wincing because who the fuck can drink straight up tequila and remain stoic? Psychopaths. 

A shadow glided over the floor in front of you, catching your attention, and you looked up midway through your grimace.

And almost spat the tequila right back up. 

It was motherfucking Chris Evans. Of all the dorks that could have stood before you, holding his Stella Artoise and staring out the window like a Dad, it was good old Chris E.

“Wow.”

You hadn’t meant for that to come out. It was more an interior dialogue. Had you drank that much already?

Chris turned to you with a smirk, showing off broad shoulders under a nice crimson suit. “Tequila don’t go down easy, huh?”

“It’s more like my pride.”

He snorted. “Don’t mind the people judging you for your sweater,” he said, giving you a wink. “I find it rather cute. And rather refreshing. I get invited to these things, and I always think someone’s gonna wake up and realize we could be in our pijamas. But pictures for instagram and whatnot get taken here. We have to look our best.”

You looked up, mystified by the man. He was staring back unabashedly, and maybe because he was a little tipsy and that’s why his inhibitions flew right out the fucking window. But his cheeks were pink. His eyes were so blue, and he dragged them along any inch of exposed skin he could find. All while remaining the most respectable man. 

“You look - uh - good,” you said. Then you frowned, shook your head. What the hell kinda thing is that to say?

He chuckled. “Thank you.” Then he plopped right down next to you. “I find you look absolutely ravishing.”

Your cheeks became so hot you thought they’d peel right off. “Okay.”

His eyes went wide just as you all but slapped your forehead. “Man, I’m so dumb,” you groaned, feeling the heat crawl down your neck and chest. “I meant thank you, obviously. It’s just... like wow, you’re Chris Evans and you’re wearing a blood red suit and your hair looks so soft!”

He threw his head back and laughed, exposing pale flesh at the neck. “Can I say something too?”

“Yeah.”

“Your skin is breathtaking.” Then his eyes went serious, looking at you as if he was trying to open the doors to your mind. “May I?” he asked, pointer finger hovering over the chocolate flesh of your wrist. 

Oh my God! Chris was going to touch you!

“Y-yeah.”

He pressed two fingers along your wrist, caressing the skin. “I saw you walk in,” he admitted. “And I just - when I saw you with your sweater and skin the color of coffee and hair in braids and eyes so bright. I thought... I’m sorry, am I being too much?” His serious tone quickly turned concerned. 

You hadn’t noticed you were staring, mouth agape, heart beating like dad’s when they hammer a stubborn nail. “No, it’s fine,” you stammered. 

He licked his lips before continuing. “I thought you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.”

Wow, okay, he was drunk. Surely he’d seen Margot Robbie and Ana de Armas and every single other Hollywood actress. 

“If you say okay, I’m going to cry.”

You laughed, his fingers still skimming the skin of your wrist. “Thank you, Chris.”

He smiled, eyes crinkling. “I want to be your friend,” he stated, fishing out his phone. “Is it alright if I ask for your number, and we can go grab coffee or walk my dog together sometime?”

His dog. It was an automatic, “Yes.”

~~~

“So, if I understand correctly, Chris was totally smitten by you?”

“Oh, Ellen,” you answer with an exaggerated tone, “he was already planning the wedding.”

“Oh!” Chris left-boob-grabs and throws his head back in laughter. “She was the one staring at me with googly eyes!”

“Yeah, right!”

“And, what?” Ellen continues to pry. “Right away, you both fell in love?”

“Well,” Chris says, smoothing his beard in thought. “We started by trying to be friends, as these things go, you know. Make sure we’re compatible. But it was clear, like, oh, right away that she was meant for me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Wow, Chris, so poetic.”

~~~

You stuffed your mouth with the doughnut, giving Dodger smiles and pats on the head as you walked beside him. You looked up at Chris, giving him also a cute smile.

“Never met anyone who actively eats strawberry-stuffed white-powdered doughnuts,” he said. It was cold outside and grey, what with is raining all weekend, so Chris wore a big blue hoodie and trousers, looking warm and cozy.

“That’s because you’ve never met anyone like me,” you answered. You tightened the scarf around your neck. 

“That’s damn right.”

This was your third date with Chris, and you still had trouble making thoughts into proper phrases. First date had gone swimmingly because Chris was a sweetheart who knew exactly how to make someone comfortable. He’d brought you to the aquarium, and he’d displayed subtle but intricate knowledge on puffer fish. Second date, he’d brought you to watch a local baseball game and then he bought you ice cream, which sealed the deal because a man who buys you ice cream is a man you want to keep. 

And now, walking with Dodger after you’d made the drive all the way to Chris’s house. You’d waited outside, feeling like an impostor standing before Chris Evans’s front fucking door with your wool sweater and scarf and mittens. 

“What say you to a tour of my grand home afterwards?” he asked now, giving you a side glance. 

You were holding Dodger’s leash, and you were watching him waddle beside you like a good boy. When Chris proposed that, your cheeks went white hot. “Um, yeah, that sounds good,” you said, swallowing thickly. 

“You don’t have to come in,” he said. “I just got a new deck of cards I want to try out.”

Chris’s house was huge. Inside, there was a lot of sunlight from the immense windows. A lot of airy spaces for lounging, eating, exercising. He was careful in avoiding his bedroom, giving you a tour with his hands inside his trouser pockets. He showed you where Dodger likes to sleep; the head of the couch, by the backdoor window where the sun cooks him, and on his doggy bed that is settled in Chris’s office. 

“He snores,” Chris said as he directed you to the kitchen. “And he dreams all the time.”

“Like father like son, huh.” 

“I don’t think I snore.”

You winked, the first time you’d ever been cocky and confident in front of him. “We’ll see.”

He brushed a hand through his hair, laughing. He reached into a cupboard and took out a card game. “Ever played Brisc?” he asked. 

“No.”

“Then sit.” He sat at the table, encouraging you to sit directly in front of him. He explained the game to you very simply, and you tried your best to memorize all the rules. “How are you taking it in the industry,” he asked, seemingly absentminded. 

You looked up in surprise. Had he been asking about you? How did he know you were very new in the show business? “I’m doing... okay?”

“I used to have nightmares about it when I was younger?”

“Nightmares?” 

He won the first round. 

“Yeah, and panic attacks before going to auditions or premiers,” he continued, giving you shy half smiles. “I’ve been in this business quite a while to know that the demands are incredibly high. And especially for women.”

You bit your lip, holding your cards against your chest. Hesitantly, you put one down. Was it okay for you to unpack everything onto him? Was it okay to tell him how bad your anxiety had gotten to you in the past and how it still got to you? This was a big A-list celebrity with paparazzi waiting for him on every corner so much so that he had to wear sunglasses and caps wherever he went. 

“It’s just so demanding,” you sighed. “It’s just status, and higher ups, and big names, and they all feel like they have the right to tell me what to do and how to do my job correctly. The bar is set so high. There is no room for mistakes, and if you make just one false move, they look at you like you killed a puppy.”

Chris nodded understandingly. “It’s so hard to navigate this industry,” he answered. “And it’s because they call it business and not personal, but some things, they just... ah, they just feel real personal, don’t they?”

You huffed. “My anxiety used to be through the roof,” you went on. “It still is. Sometimes, I have no idea how to calm the wave that comes through my chest.”

Chris reaches across the vast expanse of wood, palm up, eyes blue and open. “I can help you,” he said. “I know what it’s like to feel like you’re drowning. I can help you find resources and people to put on your personal team, to build a support. There’s no shame in reaching out.”

He was being so sincere that your chest tightened with a new emotion once unbeknownst to you. “Thank you,” you whispered sincerely. 

After the card game, Chris walked you to your car, hands in his pockets. Shy. Timid. 

“I really like our friendship,” he said. Your heart contracted, as if lead had been poured down into your arteries, and you smiled tightly. 

Friendship?

“Yeah.”

He hesitated, eyes searching your face, but you were looking down. He scuffed the toe of his boot on the gravel. “I don’t wanna be friends, though,” he mumbled.

As soon as the hurt had entered your system, it flew right the fuck out and you looked up expectantly. Eyes wide. Cheeks on fire. Heart hammering. “Me n-neither.”

He took a step forward, and your chin went up, keeping up with his impressive height. He put each palm on the side of your burning face. When he kissed you, his lips were hesitant and soft, careful and warm. The tip of his tongue on your bottom lip. You leaned into him, grasping his waist, heart hammering, thoughts reeling. 

He smelled so good.

His lips were so perfect, chapped yet warm and delicate. 

He pulled back slowly, resting his forehead on yours, laughing a little. “I feel like this is the start of something good,” he whispered. 

You smiled shyly, and he picked you up into his arms, pinning you to his chest, feet dangling off the ground

~~~

“That’s so sweet,” Ellen said. “You two are so sweet on twitter. The first picture you ever posted of Y/N was this.”

“Oh no,” you mumbled, quite to the audience’s laughter. 

A photo of you, one that Chris had taken from a film-type camera, appeared on the monitor. It was in the dead of night, at a park you and Chris had sneaked off to during a party. You were brightly illuminated by the flash of the camera. You wore a bright red hoodie, low jeans, and white shoes. Your left leg was brought up, showing the curve of your ass. Your tongue was sticking out, grimacing, and your hands were up in two peace signs. 

“He could have easily picked pictures of us on red carpet events when I actually look good, but no, he posted this absolute gem,” you laughed, feeling Chris squeezing your shoulder tenderly. 

“But she’s so gorgeous in this!” Chris defended. “She looks like herself, the girl I’m with every day.”

“Okay yes, but Y/N posted something much better,” Ellen said, pointing to the monitor.

Another picture of you, sitting behind Dodger, smiling all your pearly whites. Your skin was glowing, and you remembered feeling good about yourself that day. Dodger was being crazy, licking under your chin, and in the far, far corner of the picture, one could see half of Chris’s body. 

“And you posted that,” Ellen continued, “with the caption reading, “Love my Valentine so much. Chris, you are a wonder.”.” 

You burst out laughing with the audience, watching as Chris made a sarcastic face and shook his head. 

When the audience died down, Chris said, “No no, we joke a lot, but I love this woman so much. I mean, I married her for a reason. She’s my best friend, my lover, my confidant. I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of my life with anybody else.” 

You patted his knee, aware that if you full on kissed him, it would be all over social media. 

Ellen said something about what would happen after the break, but you were looking Chris in the eyes. Leaning into his shoulder, the world around you fell away, stripped, and it was just you and him. You and him against the world.

[svnarintaro]

clearing things up [not an imagine]

this is a long post responding to anons who are really frustrated and want answers so here it is on one big post :)

some of the things i will be talking about might be triggering so i will put in a TW on the specific paragraphs 

matchup frustration ://

i honestly am considering to never do matchups again :( 

let me just be clear 

i do not hate any of the people that have been requesting matchups, these are just things that have been on my mind all the time that kind of makes me want to close matchups for a long time

and that all of the matchups come in the order that they come to me in 

like don’t get me wrong i love to do them for you guys and they are fun to do at milestones but what really makes me frustrated is when people refuse to read the matchup rules that i put,,

like i put the guidelines there to make it more personal and a specific reason that i mention so many times on the matchup rules 

i am against matching up minors with adults 

that just makes me really uncomfortable to even think about and it really puts me on edge whenever i don’t get an age or a specification on wether or not the person is a minor 

i just have an issue with that and i usually get triggered from that :”)

another thing that just personally annoys me 

it usually just makes me annoyed when a large portion of the info i get is their looks :/ 

i can only think of a few instances in which i actually used looks in the matchup

idk i go off of vibes and given personality, and all the things that i have mentioned in the matchup rules. 

i can’t go off of much when the only bit of info that is given to me is that the person likes animals 

i can only assume and that is something i never want to do about a person that i don’t really know so i hope that people kind of learn their lesson when they see that their matchup is shorter than others 

~~~

why i don’t write chubby/curvy s/o fics

TW: eating disorders 

please read at your own risk 

okay this is a really sensitive topic for me

i am a person who only recently recovered from my own battle with anorexia and i have a very bad body dysmorphia issue. (i have already gone to rehab and gotten professional help so i am completely fine) 

i am very critical of my own body. 

this is an issue for me whenever i write anything touching on the subject of body types. 

this may sound selfish and stupid but i usually write imagines off of the things that i experience to make them feel a little more realistic so to make this easier when i plan for a fic i usually imagine myself as y/n. 

the issue i have with this type of writing is because all my life i was constantly called fat, chubby and all the given synonyms by my own parents and they were the main reason of my own eating disorder. 

these words get me to think negatively about my own body and when i even tried to write about it, all i could think about was my parents and their rude comments towards that community. 

i barely got through one character but i couldn’t do it. 

i just can’t write about people lifting another person up about their doubts about their body when i have never had that myself. 

this seems like an excuse to not write but to be completely honest to you now is honestly the worst time for me to even be thinking about labels of body types. i have relapsed so many times in the past month due to my parents calling chubby despite them forcing me to eat 6 times a week the given word just makes me uncomfortable.

i am sorry anon that i am not strong enough yet to defeat my own inner demons and i will take the blame for that. 

~~~

the suicide threat 

TW: suicide 

if you have been here since around 2 weeks ago you will know that i got a threat to kill myself by a notorious anon. 

here are some screen shots or if you want to scroll down far enough on my blog go for it 

i just want to say if you have any thoughts of suicide please go and contact some suicide hotlines and please remember you are a beautiful person on this earth 

and i apologize for not putting a trigger warning before i posted these

but i honestly laugh at every time i look at these cause idk it just shows how unbothered i am from a person telling me to kill myself

i did go to a bridge and just sat there for a little bit but that was only because i was skating around and i just wanted to see what the hype was about around bridges 

but they came back again and i just wanted to address it ?

dear anon, in the bottom ask did you mean ‘and shit’ as a whatever or did you mean that i took a dump at a public park (btw i didn’t) and second you can’t exactly come at me when you switch up your emoji game from fairy to middle aged mother of three

idk pick a struggle: 

being mad at a 16 year old vibin on tumblr 

or 

being that triggered when a kid tells you that you exert small di*k energy 

but know that you do not alter the way that i value my life because i know you are just a sad person that refuses to accept that people can live peaceful lives and you just seem so bothered by it to tell me to kill myself. 

babe if you have an issue with me then don’t be a coward and just drop the damn anon 

~~~ anyways thats all i got 

and remember that all cops are b@st@rds and black lives still matter 

[rixxy8173571m3w1p3]

The Truths Found On Petram Viridios IV (3/?)

A/n: this is a long chapter. Hope you guys like it. In this chapter I referenced @hoodoo12 fic Inked

Read Part 1, Part 2

________

Chapter 3: Do You?

"Are you having a good time?" he wondered as you were picking at your meal, and drawing faces in it.

"It's been pleasant enough." you admitted; shifting in your seat to sit up properly. "You've certainly made it easy on me."

You appreciated how the time passed so easily with the chemist's want and eagerness for conversation. He was well-spoken, and nothing lacked but whether it was you or your wandering mind, you had the feeling of wanting to go home; to relax on Rick's couch and watch a silly movie, but the night would go on. Intrigued by your earlier statement, V'gha studied you for a moment, not so unlike the way Zeta-7 would. Flexing his thick fingers, and smirking as though he had found the secrets of the universe and not intending on sharing it, he rested his chin on his now clasped hands."Would you care to elaborate?"

"Sure. I believe it's because, despite our differences, you're not so bad. I was worried that you were going to be overly serious, but it's been fun chatting with you."

"Well," he started, "I hope you won't be offended by me saying this, but I thought you were going to be more Neanderthal."

"You know," you giggled. "I get that a lot."

It never occurred to you to expect anything to really happen right now, but through half-lidded eyes, there were flecks of melancholy along with another emotion you couldn't quite detect. It passed quickly as light amusement colored his voice. "Is self-deprecating humor common among your kind? It doesn't matter. You nonetheless contain an intellect that I can only describe as affable. Are all humans this way?"

"I don't know, I can't speak for my kind, but I can speak for myself. I think in my case," You considered with seriousness, trying to refrain from sharing too many details. "it's what happens when you live as I do; close to a mad genius who enjoys his work as much as his garden. No really," you paused, playing around with your cloth napkin. "it's nothing special. I wish I could give you a highly detailed explanation, but I don't consider myself much of an intellectual. I do learn something new everyday. I think that counts for something."

Nodding in agreement, he made an attempt to consume his meal of fried klema paste, but could only manage a small bite as he too gave up on trying to believe it was halfway edible. "If I would've been in my lab, I could've shown you a recipe for a formula that attracts insectoids large enough to feed a family for a month. Even the bitter, old, beetletoids would taste better than what we've been served tonight."

You had a feeling that the meals were chosen by a machine that couldn't determine what would be better; pleasing the taste buds or feeding the vitamin deficiencies; it seemed to be the latter.

"I'm sad to tell you that I don't eat insects or insectoids. Though," you smiled. "I appreciate the sentiment. Where I'm from, you either love them or despise them. There isn't much of an in-between. For my part, I admire them. Like, there's these cute little guy's called roly-polys. They kind of look like little pills and they hang out in dead leaves and stuff. Oh, and don't even get me started on iridescent insects. They're just so beautiful, like living jewels. Too bad I don't have an eloquent explanation to give you."

"Do you mean to say that insectoids or insects as you refer to them, are minuscule creatures where you're from? How fascinating. And stranger still," he gestured at your outfit. "I was just thinking that you appear somewhat iridescent yourself."

He must've been referring to the sequins on your dress which were mildly reflective and multichromatic. "That was the point," you joked readily. "to look as though I could fly away at any moment. At least that's the story I'm sticking with, but don't tell anyone I left my private jet at home."

"Well, it does suit you. Has anyone told you that?"

If he meant either your dress, attitude, or both, then Rick had but you weren't going to tell him that. "No, but thank you."

"Really," he insisted. "I mean it. I…..I can't help but feel as though I know you." Leaning slightly forward, though not so much that it would violate the law, and squinting, he wondered. "Are you sure we haven't met before?"

The multiverse thing was another classified subject on the infinite list of what you weren't allowed to talk about. For all you knew, he might've met another version of yourself or met you in passing in your travels with Rick. "No, we haven't. Maybe I remind you of someone."

Realization struck him, and he dug around in his pockets and pulled out a blank white card. Laying it out on the table, he pressed the corner of it, and it produced a hologram; it was a Salamandrian with vibrant coloring and stripes that made you wonder if they glowed in the dark. "That's why I've been perplexed. You remind me of her; an old colleague of mine."

"She's beautiful."

"Yes, I thought so too. We used to work in the same lab together and were close to a breakthrough which could've assisted with premature aging which my species are prone to, but it wasn't meant to be. We ran out of funding and while working on another project, she collapsed. Before I knew it, she succumbed to rapid aging. Cha'thxa was amiable like yourself and loved to joke around. I believe that's why we were good friends."

"It's always the good ones. I'm sorry."

Replacing the card back into his pocket, he sobered. "It's alright. That was half a lifetime ago, but it's odd how events can trigger these recollections. Thank you."

"For what?"

"For these interactions of ours. It made me feel youthful."

What? Now that couldn't be right. If it hadn't been such an odd thing for him to say, you wouldn't have given a second thought to how he had spoken and carried himself. Really, you thought he was younger than yourself. "How old are you exactly? You don't look mature."

Taking a long sip of his beverage, he admitted with amusement. "Let's just say that the equivalent in human years is roughly 64.322 years old."

"What? No way. I wouldn't have ever guessed, but it shows what I know."

Though you weren't an expert on reptiles either, so how could you have known?

"Would it have really mattered? The only difference it would have made was perhaps in the way you would've treated me. I don't enjoy being treated as though I'm feeble-minded and will collapse at any moment."

"I promise, I wouldn't have."

"If only it were that simple. I've done the same, except I did the opposite and discriminated against someone far younger than I was and believed them foolish, but now that I've seen more of the world, and have familiarized myself with the universe through my travels and mostly through my studies, I realize how wrong I was. These days, I intend to live out the rest of my life to the fullest and to not be ashamed of it. And keeping in mind with that," he paused, ruminating on what he was about to ask. He continued. "I hope this isn't presumptuous of me to ask, but I'd love to invite you to my home planet." And with that winning, sharp-toothed smile, he explained. "Warm bodies are now allowed to visit and I would love to show you my dwelling. I believe you'd enjoy the view of the river. You seem to be the type that would never tire of good company."

It was a shame that he was such a fascinating creature, for you two might've been able to be good friends in a different life. "I do enjoy good company and most likely I would love the river, but under my current circumstances, I'm sorry to say it probably wouldn't be a good idea."

Calmly, he wondered. "Is it because of that human we saw a few hours ago is your mate?"

"Yes," you answered without hesitation. "I would consider him so."

"Forgive me then, for I didn't know, but I should have come to that conclusion." he remarked sheepishly. "You reek of him and your hormones changed every time I asked you about him."

"Look," you sighed, feeling a little embarrassed at the series of events which led up to this. "it's alright. I think it's the guidelines of this event that prevent us from being in each other's presence, but even if it's a crime, I wish he was here. I'm sorry if I acted out of place otherwise."

Giving you a wink, V'gha rose and gently took your hand; not only was it against the law, but against his character. You were going to pull away, but he said in Rick's voice. "Terminate simulation."

______

You removed the headset you had forgotten you were wearing. "Oh no, did I mess up again? Would I have died of food poisoning? Dysentery? I swear this is harder than the Oregon Trail."

"N-no, you did alright." he said at first, thoughtfully tapping at charts across his multiple screens set up. "Every time you were presented with a-a challenge, you followed the protocols and procedures just as you were instructed, but it's when you depart the ship which has my calculations going all over th-the place. Gosh, I now realize that it - it doesn't matter which of the guests are assigned as your companion. There is a 33.682% chance that they'd take a romantic interest in you, while there's only a 7% chance of you taking interest in them."

"Ricky, what in the world are you talking about?" You were sure that all of it was simply meant to be a learning experience and that none of it was real. However, considering it was meant to be a realistic simulation, the possibility of romance was there, despite how minimal the chances were. "I thought the reason we were going through the simulation was so that I wouldn't jeopardize the mission. Am I to understand that you don't want me to go because you discovered there's a small chance that a guest or two might fall for me?"

He scratched the back of his neck, wary to meet your questioning gaze. "Gee, I wouldn't have phrased it th-that way. I just....I-I don't like it."

"Oh my goodness," you couldn't help but exclaim. "Rick, are you jealous?"

It was always surprising when he was for it happened so rarely, and when it did you were more flattered then concerned. You continued. "I thought these scenarios always end the same way. You know I only want to be with you, even at the risk of my life. Why these aliens would take an interest in me, I'll never know, but it's cool that the people I'm assigned to are fascinating characters. Doesn't it prove that I'm ready for this mission? I kept the sharing of valuable information to a minimum, and I got along with mostly everyone."

"Gee, I don't know. Y-you're almost ready. However," he pointed at his computer screen. "there are anomalies in some of the earlier models which are concerning. In scenario 3, 7, and 15, the chances of my extermination were 18.475% because I-I allowed myself to get distracted from the mission. In scenarios 17, 19, and 25, there's such a minuscule change that we can forget them altogether. Yet, in the last five scenarios, especially this last simulation, it jumped to 42% and I ended it before things w-would've gone sour. Golly, studying the patterns between them all taught me that you're attractive t-t-to multiple species."

"What can I say, must be my animal magnetism." you teased as you wiggled your eyes brows.

Thoroughly worried, he sighed. "It appears so."

"Come on Ricky," you softened. "I'm only kidding. Listen, why don't you disguise yourself as V'gha, while one of your robot clones handles the mission? Out of all of them, V'gha was one of the nicest. We can knock him out temporarily."

"That could work, but that's highly risky."

"How so?"

"Because staying alive means I-I can't do this."

Wrapping an arm about your waist, the beginnings of a smile were taking place. "For this, I'd get my arms chopped off. It's due t-to the fact that centuries ago a war broke out from a single incident that occurred b-between two rivals who fought for the love of a Milleannos grounds protector whose sole purpose was to guard and tend to the bud that would never bloom in their lifetime. So, this kind of behavior between us is a big no-no. At least as non-royals of Petram Viridios IV." And pressing a kiss to your temple, he chuckled. "I don't know what'd happen to me if I did that, but I-I wouldn't want to find out."

"Do the inhabitants of that planet learn their traditions through tall tales?"

"I-I don't know, but it doesn't seem that far-fetched. It's um - it's possible that over time, they've needed t-to learn sets of skills in order to survive in the once harsh terrain, but seeing how they were able to preserve their culture for hundreds of thousands of years, they must be doing something right. Still, knowing all this, I-I doubt I could keep my cool and stay away from you. Apparently, the simulations tell me the same thing."

"In that case," you softened. "I might have to remove myself from this mission. After all, I don't want you to think I'm trying to woo a few strangers."

"Boy, I-I didn't mean it t-t-to sound that way."

"Of course not, but you told me the truth. And you're entitled to it in some respects. Though, while you spoke of data and calculations, you didn't ask me how I felt. Why not dear? I'm not ashamed to tell you."

Yet, he seemed ashamed to ask. "Did - did you feel anything?"

Smoothing out the lines about his mouth and eyes with your fingers, you confessed. "I felt flattered by their attention, and their company wasn't that bad. I felt……well, like a person in society, who meets and meets dozens of people, and only really takes interest when the conversation is somewhat comfortable and familiar, but I wanted you there to enjoy it too. " Pointing towards the monitors, you continued." If you take a closer look at the data on my brain waves, changes of hormones, and heart rate, then you'll see where my mind and heart truly was. In nearly all of them, I saw parts of you. Not so much physically, but there were personality traits that were so much like your own, I almost didn't feel so lonely. Yet, I never stopped searching for you in them, and in the world around me, in silence, in smiles over knowings, and in reminiscences, hoping you would come and could be in my reach."

Resting his hand atop yours, he sighed. "Th-that explains a few things."

"Does it? I know you were watching as it played out. And don't think I didn't know what you did this time around. I know it was you on that stage, veiled, and far away. Was that also part of the simulation? It…it felt so real. Somehow our souls were closer then they'd ever been."

"I added the possibility of being asked t-to play the Tremen orb bush. When played, it does induce a trance-like state, but during that part of the simulation, I-I tried to keep you calm because y-you were in the beginning stages of a panic attack."

It must've been because of the claustrophobic feeling of being in a chamber. So you hadn't been alone. "Dear, did you hold me and keep me safe?"

"In a manner of speaking. Y-you weren't in any immediate danger, but I didn't want you to feel uncomfortable. So I - I moved my chair over, held your soft hands," he confessed shyly. "and talked to you for a little while. It must've helped for soon enough your vital signs were back to normal."

Yes, he was that sort of man; the kind who'd want to take care of you, and make sure you're alright; who'd give up a day in his garden to spend a dozen ensuring that within dreams you'd live to see another. What did you ever do to deserve him?

"I see. You know Rick, despite not bringing it up, I'm sorry that I had to pretend not to know you."

"That's okay."

He understood, way too easily did he understand. Digital planes with hundreds of foreign figures, blades of grass duplicated to fill in spaces, dreamland feelings which were wisps of real ones, he withstood them all. Slipping in and out of realities were preparations for the real tests which had and would continue to come your way. You admired his fortitude because till now he's dealt with the hardships incurred purposely and accidentally.

"Even if it was potentially part of the mission, and you knew I had to do it, it didn't feel good. How….how could I hide the fact that I have such a wonderful friend? You've been one of the dearest, closest friends that I've ever had."

Leaning down, he touched your forehead with his; releasing a breath you didn't know he had been holding. "El mayor - el mayor obstáculo para el amor es… es el temor s-secreto de no ser dignos de ser amados."

"But you are worthy." you reassured him.

"So I am." he accepted.

"Dear, in trying to protect what we have, lying was necessary. Yet, I don't want to pretend that we aren't anything. I love you too much to do that. I don't have any sign or mark of belonging to anyone, and that could've been one of the reasons there were misunderstandings. With V'gha and the others, I was only being friendly."

"I-I know."

"Even if you know, I'm still going to remind you." Resting a hand on his chest, his nervous heart seemed to dance. "Underneath my hand, lies the kind heart of an emotional, passionate genius, and I wouldn't trade that for anything in the world."

Holding you a fraction tighter, his breath ghosted your cheek. "Really?"

"Mhm."

"Can I-I tell you something?"

"Yeah?"

"Everyday with you is better than the last. If we lived on Venus," he chuckled. "our days would've been 5,832 hours long. That's th-the equivalent of 243 Earth days."

"That's a long time. Hmm," you sighed, relishing in the nearness of him; breathing in the scent which wafted off his sweater and labcoat. You thought to yourself, this is how it should always be. "I wish I could've been born sooner so you wouldn't have had to be lonely. If I could've done that much, I would've been able to repay you. Still, despite my disbelief about our relationship at times, it's one of the reasons I carry the necklace. You know, the one you had given me on that memorable day that you were…" you paused as you felt him sag into himself, pulling away from you slightly as though he were ashamed. You continued on. "on that day when those Guard Ricks came because you were needed on the citadel. I regret that I put you through so much stress that day, but I'm glad you don't resent me for it." Pulling out the necklace, you couldn't help but tear up a little. "I look at this beautiful gift every time I need to be reminded that you always believed in me, adored me, and was part of your world."

"Y-you're not part of it, you are my world."

"And you are mine. There's no way I'll ever forget you."

Though, there was a chance you could or that he could have your memories erased; there were things you weren't supposed to know, but did. There had been stranger cases before, and just in case, you had made copies of your memories. "Why, if you ever have to use that memory eraser thing on me or on yourself, I promise I'll remember for the both of us. So please," you urged, giving him a half-impatient, half-loving shake. "don't think that what we have is so easily broken, because I love you and believe in what we are together."

Neither of you spoke for a while after that, but he gave your hands a good squeeze when he came to a resolution. "What if….what if I gave you a sign?"

"I'd think of an Ace Of Base song," you lightly teased. "and then I'd wonder what you could mean."

Rubbing your back, he said above a whisper. "I mean t-t-t-to say, do you…..¿Quieres casarte?"

"What? Did you just…can you repeat that?"

"D-do you want to get married?"

Pulling away from him, you wondered. "Wait, is this real?"

He nodded. "Y-yes."

"And I'm not in a lotus-eater machine right?"

Smoothing out your hair, he confessed. "N-no, I hope not."

After spending days going through multiple simulations, it was easy to assume that everything wasn't real, and was still part of another simulation within a simulation. You pinched yourself and saw that everything was in place. It's not that you weren't happy, it was just that this was a surprise you hadn't been expecting. For his part, he studied you and found that he liked what he saw and pulled out a little box. "I had wanted the moment t-to be perfect, but I don't think that's possible. I can't…..I don't want to be without you anymore."

"I think I need to sit down for this."

Leading you over to the computer chair, you took a seat while he stood before you; antsy and ready to confess. "Mi corazón, I have wanted to do this for so long, but I - I was too afraid t-t-to ask. I think now, I finally can."

Removing his labcoat, and setting it down, he pushed up the sleeve of his sweater; displaying the tattoo he had gotten a few years ago; a single sunflower with such detail it almost looks three dimensional. If it weren’t for the curve of his arm, it would appear that he took the bloom, shrunk it down, and simply laid it on his inner forearm. "When I got this, I wanted something as beautiful as you with me, always, and - and sunflowers are your favorite. You told me they were the epitome of happiness."

You nodded. "My best memories are associated with them."

"I suppose that still holds true, so I'm going to put my faith in that. To explain, I would like to tell you a few things concerning happiness. Everyday I-I go to work, I look forward to the moment I get to see you when I return. Though, when I come home, and the house is quiet, it's easy to remember that I live alone. However, when I see that the pillows have been rearranged in a way I um - in a way I hadn't left them, or find a mug in the sink, or piles of books that hadn't been read yet, I know I'm not alone; that y-you've been here. Gosh," he sniffled, doing his best not to cry. "when I see your sleeping figure on the couch or in the hammock outside, I think to myself that I want this t-t-to be my life. T-to be our life. You're what's missing in th-the equation to my happiness. When I met you, it's like the sun finally came out and I could finally bloom. We might carry bits of - of happiness, but I-I feel incomplete without you by my side. And I think y-you feel the same."

Taking hold of your left hand, he kissed it and his voice was colored with happiness again. In earnest, he wondered. "So, my beautiful little sunflower, as far as getting married is concerned, do you - do you want to?"

Tbc

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Arranged {3}

Yahya Abdul Mateen II x OFC Nyorie Kane

Warning: Plot, Cursing

Words: 1.4k

Summary: Yahya is thirty-three, and his friends and family all seem to believe that it is long overdue for him to have a wife. He’s been set up more times than he can count and with his busy schedule and rising Hollywood star, it is becoming even more difficult to meet people, well people who aren’t looking for a come up. In the beginning, he said he didn’t want anything serious; his motto was “I’m was here for a good time not a long time.” Then it became he didn’t want anything that would distract him from where he wanted to go and what he wanted to accomplish. Now that his fame is rising and he’s approaching a sweet spot in his career he decides what the hell the time might be right.

In comes “A Match”, an exclusive matchmaking company run by his best friend Ramel’s wife Tamika. He gives Tamika and Ramel free rein and all his trust to find him, someone, he’d mesh well with. Instead of going through her clientele Tamika has just the right woman in mind, her best friend, Nyorie. Things are done a little unorthodox at “A Match” though. This unconventional route is credited for a near-perfect success rate.

Note: I’ve only tagged those who have expressed to be on a forever tag list. 

****Also, please keep an open mind.

**Loosely Proofread/Edited**

✧*.。:。✧*.:。✧*✧*.。:。✧*.:。✧*✧*.。:。✧*.:。✧*

-Chapter Three-

When he got to Tameka’s company it was close to nine. This was the only time he could squeeze the meeting in. His days were getting busier and busier with each movie he completed. Tipping his hat down low and securing his hoodie so it hid his face he walked around to the back entrance of “A Match.” The floral scents of the interior office took over. the scent matched the décor, it was lite, feminine and modern. Just as he was about to sit down Tameka walked out.

 As always her outfit was on point. She dressed like the boss and sure as hell acted like one. She smiled warmly and held out her arms for him.

 “I wasn’t sure you’d show.” He pulled her into a hug with a laugh.

 “Time is money and I said I’d be here.”

 “Hm, just by you being here makes me think you might be ready. We’ll see though. Come on.”

 Tameka nudged her head for him to follow her. They walked down the long hall of the white oak floor then made a right. Tameka stretched her arms out signaling for him to go first. When he walked into her office he took one of the seats in front of her glass desk. She didn’t sit down automatically, instead, she walked to a wide four drawer file cabinet, used a key around her neck and opened it to take out a binder and a folder. When she sat down she plopped the materials down before her.

“The hell is all that?” A smirk slipped and she pinched her lips to wipe it away.

 “This is A Match boo, I take my job serious which is why I get the results I do. So.” Tameka pulled out a pink legal pad from her top drawer and grabbed one of her pens and looked to him.

 “Why are you here, Ya?”

 Giving her a blank look, he scrunched up his nose. “I thought we’ve been through this,” he began.

 “Let’s go over it again. Before we can begin I need to know why. I ask everyone this question, so it’s not just you.”

 He took a long sip from his blended green juice mix and thought about the question for a few seconds.

 “I figured finding people for other people is what you do, and I know you’re good at it. So here I am.”

 “Why now? You’ve known me for years; you’ve known this is what I did for years. Why are you here now as opposed to last month?”

 Another long sip from his juice gave him reprieve to think. He knew what she wanted him to say. He slumped slightly in the chair and took a deep breath then spoke.

 “I think I’m finally ready to let someone in, given it’s the right one.”

 Tameka smiled, nodded and wrote something on the legal pad.

 “What are your expectations? Some people come in here and expect me and mine to find them someone in a week so they can ride off in the sunset. Some don’t really want something serious, so they use it as a hookup service. What are your expectations?”

 “If I wanted to just hook up I could do that easily. I’m not into the hookup culture and I’m not looking to get caught up. I’m thirty-three, it’s time for something meaningful,” he explained.

 “Meaningful. I like that. Most would say serious, you chose meaningful. Okay.” She wrote again and he was more curious. He felt like he was sitting with a shrink instead of a matchmaker.

 “All right. Let me explain what A Match is and how we work. We find like-minded individuals to put together. There are a variety of ways we accomplish this, questionnaires, quizzes, scenario testing, personality testing, emotional IQ testing, values, morals; the whole shebang. I like to take a traditional route which means not relying so heavily on electronics or social media. Remember back in the day how our mamas and daddies got to know each other? Phone calls not texts, handwritten letters, not emails, thoughtful outings, things of that such. Do you understand so far?”

 He nodded.

 “As a disclaimer; there is no quick route to getting matched. Marriage is my goal here because it is I don’t have my clients linger too long on the dating stage. After lengthy compatibility testing to ensure I am not wasting anyone’s time the first step is sheltered communication. Sheltered communication comes in one form—letters. Good old-fashioned handwritten letters. At this stage which is two weeks, you write to each other saying whatever you want. I have suggestions of what those letters should consist of and some guidelines but for the most part, you are free here. After those two weeks of sheltered communication, a decision is made if you want to continue. If both of you choose to continue the next stage is controlled communication, this consists of phone calls. Again this lasts for two weeks, then another decision is made. At stage three we move on to a date, but this is not a normal date. It is blind, you don’t see her, she doesn’t see you.”

 “What?! How does that work?”

 “Easy, you have a meal together where both of you are in the dark. You’ve heard of dining in the dark, this is the same concept, except you will be wearing glasses that give you the ability to see your food, and drink, utensils and what not just not each other. This is done to have you rely on your other senses, vibes, auras. You’d be surprised what you can feel for someone when your eyes are taken out of the equation.”

 He was intrigued. It sounded interesting, to say the least.

 “If date one is successful according to you both then we do it again, the goal is six dates over the course of five weeks, and they are all just like that. After all of this, you’ve spent nine weeks together, a little over two months. From here we repeat stages one to three for the next three weeks. This is where it gets simple. You shit or get off the pot.”

 “What does that mean?”

 “You tackle things backward, engagement, wedding, then you date your wife.”

 His jaw dropped. “What!? You expect me to marry someone I’ve never seen?”

 “Yes. I believe everyone knows what they feel or don’t feel for someone after four weeks. After six you know if you’re compatible, by ten weeks you know if there is something between you that can be sustained and by twelve you begin to feel like this is a routine with this person. My guarantee is I can find you the right one in twelve weeks.”

 He sat there and tried to let the information sink in.

 “So this is blind dating for twelve weeks then marry a stranger.”

 “She’s not a stranger if you’ve spent twelve weeks being your authentic self.”

 “What happens if you go through all this and four weeks into marriage you see it’s not working out. what then?”

 “I don’t know. I’ve been doing this for years and I’ve never had it happen. My success rate is perfect once two individuals go through the stages.” Tameka slid the binder to him. “Look.”

 He began flipping through the pages of pictures of couples from their wedding with the date they were matched and the date they were married and how long they’d been married. He went through page after page of many different couples, husbands and wives, wives and wives, husbands and husbands and even more ambiguous orientations. It was impressive, they all looked happy. All of them were still together. He didn’t know what to think. This was huge and quite possibly more than he’d expected or was ready for.

 “Like I said, are you sure?”

 He snorted and laughed. She was serious.

 “Damn Tameka, you couldn’t just do things like normal matchmakers?”

 “No, normal matchmaking is mundane, and the rate of failure is quite high. This way—my way, I haven’t failed yet. I have a waiting list that is months long of people who are dying to sign up. What’s your hesitation?”

 “Uh, I don’t know. Maybe marrying someone after twelve weeks, someone I’ve never seen or touched. Someone my family has never met. That sounds extreme.

 “I never said your family wouldn’t get to meet her. there are many steps at each stage Yahya. If both parties choose to continue a marriage offer is extended. Once accepted there is a day each of your families meet each other and your families meet the chosen partner,” Tameka explained.

 “When do we meet, like see each other meet?”

 “At the altar,” Tameka broke. Again, he laughed, this time it was louder than the first. This was wild.

 “I feel like you’re more hung up on seeing the person. You shouldn’t be. The extensiveness of the compatibility screening is so intricate that your preferences and tastes are always upheld. A woman will not be picked unless every parameter has been met to ninety-eight percent or higher in each and every parameter.”

 Hearing that was only a slight reassurance. He couldn’t believe he was here listening to all this. He couldn’t believe people actually wanted to do this. His eyes dropped to the binder again and scanned the faces of the couples.

 “Here’s what we’ll do, take some time, think it over, go through the reading for the process and how each stage works. Take whatever time you need, then let me know whatever you decide.”

 He took the brochure, and packets she offered and skimmed them before he nodded. This was not something to just jump into. There were so many variables to consider and he needed to consider them all.

 “What kind of women agree to this?”

 “Women like you, busy, jaded, tired of the current dating culture. I take all of the uncertainty out and support it with science, psychology, and sociology. Everything is on the up and up and everyone is vetted so deeply the CIA wishes they could be this invasive.”

 Again, he laughed and nodded. “All right, I hear you.”

 “So, think about it, let me know.”

 He stood and nodded. “Thanks, Meeka.”

 “Thank me when I find you the right one.”

 With that, he walked out of her office and out the back entrance he’d come in almost an hour ago. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[tomfleton]

stepping stone goals

some thoughts:

I really struggle with consistency. I understand the way to become consistent, of course, i’ve set so many intentions, so many goals, and planned out how i’ll achieve them. But truly I will not do something unless I fear punishment is what i’ve realized about myself. 

For example, the only hint of consistency in my life is my multi step morning and nighttime skincare routine because I FEAR acne and worsening my many blemishes. I’ve stuck with that for over 10 years at this point, but honestly, i have my off days with that too, and that may be why I still don’t have clear skin lol.

I envy people who can make a plan and follow through. Yet, in many ways, my inability to stick to something has led me on many different paths I never would have ever envisioned or planned for myself anyway. College, various college experiences and friendships, internships, the city I live in, the career I currently have. All of these things feel like they happened serendipitously. And honestly and TRULY i love that. I love being able to look back and track the journey I’ve taken, and I’m glad I allowed myself that openness while in my late teens and early 20s. I’ve always found it hard to set long-term goals bc of the uncertainty i feel about most things in life - some things out of my control as well. Beyond ongoing uncertainties that have existed in my life for decades - we’re in a pretty shitty time to say the least. 

i had finally thought i’d achieved the dream state of consistency in feb 2020. After months of work related angst, low self esteem due to a 15 lb weight gain, and general unease with my lot in life mixed with the loneliness that coms from moving somewhere new, i had finally made a plan and stuck to it. I worked out HARD 4-5 times a week and I loved it. I hate to be that person but spin class is the shit and i miss it everyday. I was actually cooking for myself and enjoying what i made. I was getting used to the 9-5 and finally feeling like i belonged on my project and had value to offer, like i wasn’t a burden. I was putting myself out there, reaching out to new and old friends, going on a million dates (not really but it felt like it). I was embracing my business casual fashion and also adopting a new natural wavy hair look. I was tailoring my style and honestly life kind of felt like how i thought it would feel watching those tv shows about the young ingenue learning her way in the big city and transforming into the eclectic yet bad ass 20-something hbic. But then i literally got covid-19, the country shut down, every external thing that was adding value to my life disappeared, and i was back in my childhood home for 4 months.

now we’re at the end of august 2020. I’m back in dc and trying to rebuild the progress i made and be consistent in achieving those skills again, but it’s hard. I don’t think we talk enough about the intense level of burnout from this prolonged remote work. i feel like i work or think about work for 16 hours a day. There is no reprieve and no outlet outside of grinding at the lowest level for my corporate overlord. literally. I’m planning on moving out of the city and back home permanently now. i feel like the fledgling friendships i had with coworkers are already gone or well on their way out (which hurts the most because it feels like so many people in a similar life situation have made meaningful friendships :/ including some of my closest friends with new post grad friends :/). i barely have time to take care of myself, so i’m trying not to be so hard on myself in such a chaotic phase of life. but it’s hard when you’re overly self reflective and critical.

i went to this pretty basic goal setting event at work on thursday not expecting to get much from it, and while the content was extremely basic (think “annotate the screen if you’ve ever had a goal”) something really resonated me: splitting things up between stepping stone goals, short term goals, and long term goals. As I said previously, I really struggle with long term goal setting because everything is uncertain and then i overthink and make it even more uncertain. I love the idea of stepping stone goals because that leaves so much room for an opportunity for more, for serendipity to hit. in the past, i’ve been successful by setting a vague personal guideline of doing the best i can at everything i do, but that is NOT sustainable in a 9-5 corporate world. They take advantage of us for it! the harder i work the more that will be added to my plate, and while i took that as a compliment and testament to my value as a human (yikes much to unpack there), the other thing that really resonated for me was setting goals is how you learn how to say no. setting goals lets you set boundaries for yourself. you should always be thinking: does this opportunity, action, hobby, etc big me closer to my self-defined goals? I think my biggest realization of August is how intentionality actually does matter A TON. In college, i heard countless times about the importance of saying no, mindfulness, self care, work life balance etc, and while i struggled with being over committed in college i had the support of friends and received a lot of recognition for my actions. For the first time in my life, i’m actually experiencing that feeling of being a small fish in a big pond and it’s a debilitating feeling. 

So, I need to learn how to set boundaries at work. To do that i need to set goals. But because I suck at consistency with those bigger goals, I need to leverage and internalize the idea of these stepping stone goals. More to come on actually listing out these goals for tracking purposes :)

[themusicplayedherlife]

Full House

4. “how many days  has it been?”

pairing: steve rogers x f!reader characters: steve rogers, sharon carter, bucky barnes, reader, pietro maximoff word count: 3k+ warnings: family issues, fluff summary: steve finds out something about you and you just want pietro to stop being so broody

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Steve sighs deeply, dropping the towels Bucky had asked for on the front desk, ignoring the greetings of a couple of members making their way to the lockers to his left.

Sharon lifts a delicate eyebrow in his direction, pulling the pile of towels in her direction to fold them neatly. “This is the tenth time you’ve sighed in the last hour, Steve.” She shifts her weight to one foot. “What’s gotten into you?”

Bucky chuckles, clicking away at the computer. “Most likely his mystery girl.”

Steve shoots him a glare, but Bucky doesn’t even turn to look at him, continuing to scroll through whatever he’s looking at on the computer screen. 

It’s not like Steve has been thinking thinking about you, but it’s hard to forget such an eventful meeting (how many get to say they took a stranger home after finding them black out drunk in their stairwell, potentially saving them from the dangers of the night) like yours? Especially when you ran out of his apartment looking like a skittish animal and without a mention of your name, leaving him to wonder what your name could be; but no name he comes up with ever sounds right—fitting.

“Still?” Comes Sharon’s exasperated reply. “It’s been days, Steve!”

“Nine days,” he murmurs, and Bucky’s eyes finally rip away from the screen to stare at him with something akin to astonishment, Sharon mirroring his expression. “What?”

“You’ve been keeping count?”

Steve frowns, but the heat he refuses to acknowledge still rushes to his head. “Not exactly?”

“Wow,” Bucky says, gaping. “You have it bad!”

“It’s only been nine days!”

“Only?” Bucky scoffs. “Stevie, pal, that’s enough for me to forget every person I’ve fallen in love with at first sight.”

They’re being ridiculous. He just can’t help the curiosity—why were you in the stairwell? Why did you seem so sad? Who texted you that you got so terrified that you ran out of his apartment? Did whatever you were going through get resolved? Or were they getting worse? And most importantly:

What is your name?

“You have issues,” Sharon directs at Bucky—to which he responds with a shrug and a cheeky grin—before turning to him and saying, “And you? You need to move on. You don’t know anything about the girl!”

“I think that’s the point. Steve is loving the mystery!” Bucky leans back into the rolling chair he’s occupying and locks his fingers behind his head. “And truth be told, I kind of like her too, ‘cause, ya know, she didn’t end up murdering us in our sleep.”

Sharon looks at him expectantly as if waiting for him to answer and all he can do is flash her a sheepish smile. Her eye twitches and she throws her head back. “Seriously? That’s it? That’s what—“

“Rude! Second of all—”

He pauses—wait, what was that?—fading out Sharon’s voice, his eyes frantically search around the gym—he swears he heard—taking in every person in the room.

—was it really you?—but he doesn’t find what he’s—

His breath hitches, heart beating against his rib cage rapidly—you. It’s really you!

“Uh, Steve?”

“She’s here,” comes his breathless reply, taking a step forward, smile spreading on his lips. But it’s ripped away from his lips so easily, feet coming to an abrupt halt when they take in the sight of a muscular, younger and definitely more handsome than him, man standing at your side and staring down at you with exasperated fondness.

And you’re not alone.

Pietro moves at a fast pace—calves burning and sweat dripping down his face, but he keeps on pushing. It reminds you of a younger Pietro, who struggled with high school and teachers constantly picking on him for being too hyperactive; only finding reprieve in track and field and working out. He used to drag you—and Wanda—to the gym then too; it helped deplete all those negative feelings festering in his mind.  

You only watch from your spot on the leg press, pretending to put in any effort if only to satisfy your brother’s excess nagging that you—and the family—need to work out more. Maybe he’s the one that needs to work out less. Has he ever thought of that?

The machine beeps and it begins to slow down, Pietro doesn’t wait for it to. He hops onto the sides, legs spread as he presses something on the touchscreen of the treadmill to turn it off.

“How do you not die?” you ask him, your earlier plan to pretend to work out with him being left abandoned to stare at your brother in awe, who is barely out of breath. “Are you some kind of freak?”

He finally cracks a smile, snorting as he nudges his nose with his knuckle. “It’s called exercising regularly.”

You roll your eyes and lean back into the backrest of the machine. “Daisy once asked me if you were on steroids and I’m starting to think she might’ve been onto something.”

He bends low for his water bottle next to your feet. “My muscles and gym drive are 100% authentic, kid.”

“Yeah, okay.” You’re worried about Pietro. Out of all of your siblings, he’s the most sensitive. Sure Scott was more attached to your parents than the rest of you, but it’s Pietro who feels more strongly about everything. 

A lot of people would assume it’s Wanda, and while in a way they’re right, they’re also very much wrong. Wanda is empathetic, understands what other people feel more easily. Pietro isn’t as empathetic as his twin, he’s the type of person to get caught up in his own feelings and drown in them. He’s kind of similar to Clint in that aspect, but over the years, your older brother has become more logical (and Natasha would never let him linger in his feelings for too long, anyway), while Pietro has… not. 

“So, for how long are you going to keep avoiding Wanda?”

His hand freezes mid air as he brings his drink back up to his lips. “I’m not avoiding her,” he says, moving to a different machine—a pull up machine.

You get up, picking up your own water bottle and follow after him. “Right,” you drawl, “because sneaking out is totally not avoidance.”

He readies the machine, moving things, adjusting shit. “We did not sneak out.” Yeah, okay. He pulls away and then stares at you expectantly.

“What?” His eyes move from you to the machine and back. “Oh, no! No, no, no. I’m only here as moral support.” He rolls his eyes as you step away. “You get on that machine.”

“I would if it were a challenge.”

You scoff and cross your arms defiantly. “I’m not doing it.”

“Should I tell Wanda that you stayed over at a guys house when you almost gave her a heart attack?” he says, raising his eyebrow in challenge. 

This jerk! You shouldn’t have told him! Why did you tell him anyway? Oh, right, he’s annoying (and didn’t believe your lie of having passed out in Daisy’s bedroom after having way too much to drink and your friends not noticing because they were equally inebriated—Wanda probably didn’t believe you either, but she probably thinks you’ll eventually tell her, and you will. Eventually. Maybe. If Pietro doesn’t tell her out of spite first).

Your mouth parts and you stare at your brother with wide eyes. “Okay, first of all, rude! Secondly, it was a mistake! An accident! And it’s not like I slept with him,” you hiss, looking around the gym to check that no one is close enough to listen in on your conversation. “He was just a kind soul that helped me out.”

“You do realize that’s worse, right? Sleeping at a stranger’s house? He could’ve been a creep for all you know.” 

“Well, he wasn’t. He was a kind stranger!” 

He pushes you towards the machine. “Do it.”

“Listen,” you tell him, spinning your arm to the point where you can hear creaks and bone popping, “my body wasn’t made for working out!”

“Is everything all right?” A voice interrupts, and you and Pietro both spin on your heels almost in sync to find the guy that was sitting next to a pretty blonde lady that—your brother didn’t try flirting with, surprisingly enough—signed you in as a guest.

His eyes are an intense blueish-gray eyes, brown hair pulled back into a bun and day old scruff adorning his jaw and chin. He’s pretty—prettier than Natasha and Wanda combined, and those are some fighting words—in a masculine way or whatever. But he doesn’t hold a candle to Steve, your kind and totally not a creep, stranger.

“Yes,” Pietro says at the same time you blurt out, “No.”

He shoots you a glare and you ignore it as you address the other guy, eyes drifting down to his handwritten name tag. “Bucky,” you start before doing a double take. “Bucky?” What kind of—never mind. You’re getting distracted! “Can you please tell my brother here that forcing me on a machine is completely against safety guidelines?”

Bucky—seriously, who names their kid Bucky?—blinks, eyes moving between you and Pietro. “Brother?”

“Yes,” you deadpan. You know you look nothing like Pietro or any of your siblings—he’s not the first to be surprised at the revelation and he won’t be the last—but it gets old. “Brother. He’s my brother.”

“Oh,” he says, eyes drifting over your shoulder and you almost turn, but he stops you by saying, “It isn't against safety guidelines, but it is if you don’t use the machine properly.”

Pietro sighs deeply. “If you don’t want to do pull ups then get on the treadmill.”

“That’s worse!” you argue. “Do you really think I have the stamina to run?”

Your brother’s nose flares and you just know you’ve hit his limit of patience—oops—but before he can rip you a new one, Bucky interrupts, “We had a boxing class cancellation if you’d—“

“Is it low effort? Or fun?”

Pietro is about to pop, if him closing his eyes and letting out a deep breath is anything to go by. 

Bucky, on the other hand grins as he says, “It's better than boring ol’ cardio and pull ups, that’s for certain.”

You press your lips together, thinking it over—it’s really just for show, you’d do anything to get away from treadmills and bars—as Pietro rubs his temple. “We’ll take it!”

“Sis, I don’t have the money—“

“Don’t worry about it,” Bucky interrupts your brother, already leading you to a different part of the gym, weaving through machines and people working out at night. 

Your brother isn’t entirely convinced, but he follows anyway.

He knocks on a door—that reminds you a little of those noir detective movies with the dramatic acting that Cass and Scott like forcing everyone to watch—before opening it to reveal a whole other room with different training gear and a large ring smack dab in the middle. 

Grunts and loud smacks fill the room—1, 2, 1, 2, 2. 

“Hey, punk, we have company!”

The grunting and the pounding stops, and just as you turn to look at Pietro with a wide grin, it falls from your lips as you pause at the sight of a familiar face rounding the large ring—“Steve?” 

“Steve?” Your brother mimics, eyebrows knitting together.

Blue eyes meet yours in confusion before moving between the three of you, mouth gaping and looking like a fish out of water. You would have laughed at the handsome man if you weren’t so shellshocked yourself.

“The miss—,” you interject Bucky with your name and he repeats it, “and her brother—“ you swear you hear some heavy emphasize on brother.

“Pietro,” your brother adds grumpily and Steve physically straightens, disbelief coloring his face as they take you and Pietro in. Yeah. Also won’t be the last.

“Were hoping for something a little more fun and since we had a cancellation—“

“A what now?”

“A cancellation,” Bucky repeats testily, shooting Steve an annoyed glare. “I thought I could offer them the time slot.”

Steve blinks once, then twice, but his eyes never leave you. “Right. Right a cancellation,” he murmurs. 

“Why don’t I take you over here,” Bucky says to your brother whose eyes narrow in suspicion, the two talking, but you pay them no mind as you close the distance between you and Steve with a wide smile. 

“Been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he says, still not shaking off his shocked expression.

You introduce yourself, personally this time, and hold your hand out for him to take, and he introduces himself again too, as if you could have forgotten his name to begin with. “Sorry for running out on you that morning. How many days has it been?” you wonder aloud, not really expecting an answer.

“Nine days,” he answers quickly, confidently and now it’s your turn to stare at him in disbelief. His ears turn a bright red and he clears his throat when you raise an eyebrow. Has it really only been nine days? Huh. “Lets, uh, get you wrapped up.”

Steve’s grip on your hand is gentle, unlike the white cotton being wrapped around your hand; tip of his tongue sneaking out between his lips, eyes completely concentrated at the task at hand. Hasn’t spoken much of a word to you either, only when you asked what the cotton wrap was for. He said it was for protection, less chance of an injury or something; you practically zoned out as he lectured you on the importance of it, opting to get lost in his gorgeous blue eyes instead.

He really is cute, isn’t he?

You haven’t had much of a chance to think about him since you left his apartment, but there’s no denying that you did sometimes think about looking him up, to maybe ask him out for dinner as a thank you for keeping you out of trouble that night—him being good looking has nothing to do with you wanting to ask him out, scouts honor. Maybe.

Daisy said she’d keep an eye out for your mystery man, but so far she had no luck.

Today, however, it seems you have a lot of luck.

Grunts fill the room and your attention leaves Steve for once, finding your brother already strapped in, fitted with gloves and punching the living daylights out of the thick pads Bucky holds in front of him. A loud smack causes you to grimace and for Steve to pause his work.

“Did I hurt you?”

You tear your eyes away from Pietro and find Steve peering down at you through his dark lashes, genuine worry coating his immensely blue eyes. 

His head tilts, patiently waiting for your answer. Even that is endearing.

Why is he so attractive? What the fuck? 

“Sorry, no, no. You didn’t hurt me. Pietro surprised me is all,” you tell him honestly, eyes moving to your brother again, who is completely focused on the pads. Maybe boxing is what he needs to exert himself? “So,” you start, smiling at Steve, “how have you been? Been saving any other drunk damsels in distress?”

He cracks a smile at that, returning to his task of wrapping up your right hand, his fingers gliding to your wrist and you keep your hands straight as he told you in the beginning. “I’m afraid not.” He briefly glances at you. “Not since you, anyway.” If your smile grows wider, it’s involuntarily. “But I’ve been good, busy. And you?” He pats your hand when he’s done with it and reaches for your left hand, cradling it in his larger ones. 

“I’ve been… I’ve been okay. I guess.”

He hesitates, wrapping the cotton around your palm slowly. “Right…” His eyebrows knit together almost in concentration, but he’s not in concentration at all, if him looking at you every once in a while is of any indication.

Pietro’s grunts and Bucky’s commands fill the room with sound, but it’s dull compared to the loud silence between you both. You watch him, occasionally meeting his gaze. You wonder what he could be thinking about: that night? Did you do or say anything strange? Because you wouldn’t put it past your drunk self. You’ve been told you’re an open drunk—says too much and is way too affectionate. So maybe you did say something?

When he’s done wrapping your hand, he does the same as before, pats it and let's go. “How do they feel?” he asks, finally breaking the silence. 

You clench and unclench your hand, feeling the wrap adjusting nicely to your movements. “They’re good. Not too loose and not too tight.”

He nods and moves away, pulling out a couple of gloves from the closet behind him. He surveys them, checking their sizes before settling on one pair. He lays them aside before turning back to you. “Why don’t we warm up first?”

“Teach away.”

He cracks a smile and moves to stand beside you, his own wrapped hands lifting in front of him. “We’ll start with shadow boxing.” He stands with his legs slightly spread and bent at the waist, bringing his fists up to his face. “This is a resting pose, after every punch, you should come back to it.”

You mimic him, but something doesn’t feel right.

“Bend your knees a little—no, do you mind if—“

You grin, wicked and amused at the reddening of ears. “Go ahead.”

His large hands settle on your waist, turning it away from him. “Keep your weight distributed evenly. Don’t put it on just one foot.” His fingers glide from your elbows to your hands—and you’re one hundred percent sure boxing shouldn’t be this touchy feeling, but you don’t mind it. Not when your instructor is Steve. “That’s it. Now, when you punch, make sure your thumbs aren’t inside your fist, keep them out—there you go.”

He keeps demonstrating, occasionally putting his hands on you to guide you, but only if necessary (which is literally all the time). If you don’t get it right the first couple of tries, it’s totally not your fault.

By the end of your session, you don’t know whether you want to kill Bucky or thank him. You’re drenched, heart racing for more than one reason, and legs wobbling from all the exertion. Steve is just as wet as you, sweat seeping into his shirt and droplets raining down his neck and disappearing under the black t-shirt he’s wearing; cheeks deliciously flushed and chest heaving. How can your heart not race at the sight of this Adonis? 

But also, why is boxing so damn exhausting?

Steve did every single exercise and activity with you, doing them twofold just to give you more motivation since you were being a whiny bitch. Something you’re completely grateful for, because if he hadn’t, you would have thrown in the towel ten minutes into it.

Pietro is still training with Bucky, one final set of jump rope and they’ll be done and you’ll soon be on your way; and then it’ll only be a matter of time before you’ll be in your bed resting, sleeping off your exhaustion and completely and utterly happy—well, until you wake up with sore muscles and deep regrets, anyway.

And hopefully with this full workout, Pietro won’t be as moody.

Steve stretches next to you, offering you water after you finish yours during a small break. You thank him, relishing in the cool liquid sliding down your throat.

“Want to get dinner sometime?” you suddenly ask, taking him completely off guard and causing him to choke on his saliva. You quickly get on your knees and pat his back.

He waves you away when he’s no longer coughing. “What?”

He’s completely red, from his neck to the tips of his ears. Whether from his choking incident or your question, you don’t know, but you still grin. “Dinner?” you repeat. “You and me?”

He gawks as if he can’t believe you’re really asking him out for dinner and as cute as you think he’s being, you’re also growing impatient with every second that he doesn’t answer.

“Yes or no? Because I need to know whether you’re okay with the idea or—“

“Dinner sounds great,” he finally says and your grin only grows wider.

next

[imthederpyfox]

Rant About YouTube Copyright.

by imthederpyfox, Moments ago

Journals / Personal

I know nobody's here anymore, hi, nobody~

But I need to take a minute to rant about YouTube's copyright system for a moment.

I know it's come a long way in the past few years, content creators never used to be able to defend their work with copyright under YouTube guidelines, and it's great that they now can. However, there is also the problem that as content creators can fairly and justly claim others videos that include misused content off their own, creators will also claim videos just because they don't like them. AKA 'foodybeauty' and 'Amber-Lynn Reid', to name a few...

Along with this, we also have major companies who think they should copyright any video posted about one of their shows or films or games, or anything really.

Now I know, full re-uploads of these things are against copyright law, well done YouTube, would you like a gold star? Well, guess what, you don't get one. Because not only can they claim these full videos, they have also been going on binges, where as soon as ANY kind of content related to their products comes out, it becomes copyrighted before the content creator can even so much as blink or press save.

I'm talking about videos where you can barely see what the creator's watching, i.e - an UNLISTED video I just posted of a review/reaction to a Netflix show called Haunted.

Now, I have posted another reaction for Riverdale, and spent months trying to figure out the best action to take. Bare in mind, these videos are 'unedited' for my patrons, and the links are only available to my patrons. But guess what? I HAVE NO PATRONS! First of all, HOW do these big companies find an unlisted video? Are they my patrons? I mean that'd be nice, but no. They Aren't.

Second of all, why the fuck would you block an UNLISTED video, when so many people upload full copyrighted re-uploads of films and TV with no issue?

Third of all, how did you even know my video contained any of your program when it's not even named after the show AT ALL because I KNOW you'll copyright it immediately if the title has so much of a WHISPER of the show included.

Now, I will admit, I understand why my first video got copyright claimed - despite being unlisted, which I'm still annoyed about - because most of the screen was taken up by the episode of Riverdale, rather than my reaction. I get it, fine. So, I edit it, I make myself the main focus - ew, I know - and I lower the opacity of the original video, and I cut out any songs that go on for too long, and I make sure that 1/4 of the video isn't even FUCKING VISIBLE!

Safe to say, this is not a re-upload of the original content. This is an upload of a reaction to said content. My reaction, in which I am constantly talking throughout, constantly cutting in, constantly ruining this series for everyone that decides to give me money to watch, what a good YouTuber I am indeed.

So, because I couldn't let sleeping dogs lie when I earned my SECOND COPYRIGHT CLAIM ON THIS UNLISTED PATREON VIDEO! I decided to look more into the company trying to claim it. Was it Netflix? Nope. Was it a TV company? Well, sort of? A french company that distributes TV shows, or so it claims. See what I did there? Good right? No, ok, moving on. So upon my research I happened to come across multiple videos, saying that the company was a scam, that they were fake and shouldn't even be copyrighting things.

SO, what did I do? Well, just to make sure I checked which part of my video was still listed under their 'copyrighted content' thing, because if you check it'll tell you time stamps and give you the option to trim. So, there was about 5-6 minutes of my video that for some reason was still being claimed as copyrighted, so I went in, and edited little bits out, where there was no dialogue, no important things, and then I saved it, and waited for it to process, and then I went into that copyright claims and I said, ya know what? I'm not taking this shit, I worked hard for this video, I made sure to do everything I needed to do, and since these videos fall under fair use due to the cutting and editing and the fact you can't SEE 1/4 OF THE VIDEO, I sent a dispute.

Now I have to admit, I was nervous. If the company that copyright claimed my video didn't like the fact that I'd done that, they could CHOOSE TO COPYRIGHT STRIKE ME. Like, no review from YouTube, nothing like that. If this company didn't like that a tiny channel with only 57 subscribers put in a dispute against them, they might get pissed. They might not like the fact that someone's done that, and they might turn around and say to YouTube, FUCK this channel, bye bye, bitch.

So I was worried to say the least, but I have never been one to back away from bullying, and in this case, I class it as bullying.

I filled in all the relevant details, including a very in depth explanation as to why my video was counted under fair use, and how my channel is tiny, how I don't have any Patrons to see the video, how my video was unlisted, and heavily edited to make sure the copyright did not count against me, including the use of disclaimers in both the video and the description.

I was professional.

I was right.

And I won the dispute.

A day later I get an email telling me the company decided to release my video of all claims and it is now available for all none of my viewers to watch! How exciting, right?

Well, today I decided that I'd upload my second reaction that I'd recorded, I did the same as with the last one, having learned something. I lowered opacity, I covered any nudity, I cut off 1/4 of the video, I made it so the focus would be on my ugly ass mug instead of the TV show itself. And I spent hours trying to upload it for it to fail and me have to do it again.

And low and behold, after all my troubles, all my trials and tribulations, all my blood, sweat and tears and turmoil... I got copyright claimed once again.

Now, it's safe to say, I'm a little bit pissed, ya know?

My video - much like last time - hadn't even fully been uploaded, around the 97% mark, and boom, claim. So I took a deep breath, ya home boi is NOT happy, and I see where exactly it thinks my video is not covered under copyright law. And this is where I think these companies don't care if you are actually covered under the law or not, because it's always a random part of the video, it's always about a 5 minute chunk of the video regardless of what you do.

Which leads me to my next conclusion, in order for these companies to be finding these videos - especially with them being in the unlisted category (needing a specific link to be able to view), and the title not being related, and the video being edited to make sure it isn't eligible for a copyright claim, they MUST have a bot, or a program running that searches YouTube for clips of their content, regardless of how it's presented, or whether it's a review or not.

Which I have to say, is unfair. Especially in the case of the unlisted thing. I know, YouTube can't help it if these companies have bots and programs and code, they can't stop that from happening. But what they can stop? What they SHOULD stop? Is these companies being able to claim videos that aren't even eligible for it.

YouTube, man, you gotta work on this.

We were rooting for you! We were ALL rooting for you!

Anyway, seriously, YouTube really needs to find a way to make sure copyright is fair and just and not maintained by just programs and bots. YouTube, why not create a part of your company that reviews these claims, checks the videos, guarantees that the claims only go to those ACTUALLY abusing the copyright system? Instead of those of us who just want to make fun content for our viewers, who strive to just make good reaction videos? Because that's what they are, REACTION videos. Not re-uploads, not someone else's content.

'Great poets imitate and improve, whereas small ones steal and spoil.'

Give a little back to the people that got you where you are today YouTube. None of these big companies had you raking in money to begin with, it was the little guys, the small content creators who now have millions of viewers, because they enjoy what they do. Well, most of 'em anyway...

Just think about your content creators, rather than appeasing the companies that give you a bit more money. I know they won't, because capitalism rules despite how shit it is.

Is it really a wonder that so many creators are turning to streaming through sites like Twitch.tv instead of uploading to YouTube? Even the other day, on a live stream I was doing myself, me and my friends talked about how much better streaming is, how you don't have to constantly be worried about making sure the video is friendly for 2 year olds. 2 YEAR OLDS SHOULDN'T EVEN BE WATCHING, OK?!

My goal has been to be a YouTuber since I was about 12. I'm now almost 22. That's just under 10 years of my life, where my goal, my one finish line, has been to become a YouTuber. But the more and more things like this happen, the more and more I want to listen to that voice in my head telling me to give it up and go to Twitch, become a streamer, not stress so much about copyright strikes and issues with monitisation, and having such UNREALISTIC goals in order to achieve being monitised and YouTube partner in the first place.

I have edited this video, the parts it told me to, I have made sure to cut out the music bits and make sure it's up to par with copyright based on where they claimed the video. But my issue with sending off this newest in what I assume will be a long line of copyright disputes, because someone, even as small a channel as mine, with my 57 subscribers and my 5 views a video (at a push), has to push back and say 'NO. THIS ISN'T OK.' and not let themselves be pushed around, my issue with this?

The company that claimed the video this time was Netflix itself. And we all know Netflix has money. And Netflix doesn't care if it shuts down a tiny little channel like mine. All my content? All my videos? All views and subs and likes I've somehow managed to accumulate? All gone. Like Thanos snapping his fucking fingers.

Regardless of what I do to make these videos fair use, big companies like this get the final say over them, and as far as they're concerned, us little creators who don't make YouTube money yet, but still hold onto that hope that, maybe, hopefully, one day we will be able to do it, we're the 50% they want to snap and get rid of.

And it'll stay that way for a long time, unless people actually stand up and talk about it. Heck, it'll probably end up staying that way even then, but at least we TRIED.

I have respect for Matpatt, I watched his video explaining the work he and other creators have done in bringing awareness to the higher ups in YouTube, using their platforms to help each other and millions of other creators, people who just want to make other people laugh or forget about their problems for a while, or just upload stupid, 2 minute clips because of inside jokes, or they find it funny, they enjoy doing it.

If we as humans have been taught anything recently during this quarantine, it's that a lot of our societal structures are flawed, some may even say broken. Big companies scam us, use us, and give nothing back in return. If peoples eyes aren't open now, when will they be?

This won't get views. This won't get likes or favourites or shared to other people because of some powerful message.

But maybe one day, someone from YouTube will be randomly scrolling through the internet, and find a random post on a crude fanart website amongst all the sonic and Mario at the Olympic fuck games art, and maybe they'll read it and take note.

But we all know that'll never happen.

So I'm gonna wait for the video to finish saving the changes I made to it, and I'm going to dispute the claim Netflix made against me. And I'm going to anxiously wait to see if I get to continue making content for another day, or whether I get taken down by the snap.

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

If you made it this far, thanks for listening to my rambling.

I feel strongly about a lot of things, and my friends often tell me that I should post about them, because I have such an... Eloquent way or wording things. Well, I finally decided to, because I need to vent as much as the next asshole. They're right, I AM eloquent!

Seriously though, thank you for reading, I know nobody would have but hey, maybe you're one of the 3 views I get on my YouTube videos!

I am blessed.

With like 50,000 curses going on at once.

Such a time to be alive.

Stay safe, look out for each other, and I may do another rant at some point, because this was fun I guess.

-Exza~

[imjustheretoseetheprivateblogs]

RoseGarden Week Day 2:🌹 October 28th: Stars

Heads up! minors keep on Scrolling

“Are…Are we sure this is appropriate?”

That was probably the fifth or sixth time Oscar had asked that. This night alone, that is.

The woman applying makeup to his face rolled her eyes and applied the second fake sideburn to the side of his face.

“Yes, it’s appropriate,” she said, “We’ve checked you out for STDs from head to toe. You’re clean.”

“It’s not that,” Oscar said, fidgeting in his seat, “it’s just…”

He turned around and faced the mirror on the dressing room vanity.

“What if…what if someone I know sees this?”

The woman sighed.

“It’s not going to come to that.” she put her hand on his shoulder, “this film will be for your private collection. It won’t be advertised on our website or released on the internet in any way. We’re not that kind of company.”

Oscar looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“If you’re worried about having a job after this, I do make up for major motion pictures.”

“Really?”

“I was a student of Rick Baker.”

“The werewolf guy?”

“That’s right. Now, hold still while I give you your unibrows.”

Oscar wasn’t entirely sure why he needed them. Sideburns, unibrows, and yellow contacts certainly didn’t seem like something the star of an adult video would wear.

“If you’re wondering about the makeup, our director is pretty…”

The woman paused, probably trying to find the appropriate word.

“Out there.”

“Oh.”

“She used to be a performer herself.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she still takes parts from time to time. But mostly she just directs and produces now.”

“What about you?”

“Hmmm…?”

“Are you a… an adult performer, too?”

“Yep. Worked with the director a few times before, too.”

“Really? You just seem so…so…”

“Normal? Sure. Just because I like to wear cat ears while getting ploughed doesn’t mean I don’t have a life outside of it.”

Oscar’s eyes widened. He wasn’t an aficionado, but he knew one star that had cat ears as a gimmick.

“You’re Kitty Loggins!”

The woman smiled.

“Not when I’m off camera. Here, I’m just Blake Belladonna.”

“Oh,” Oscar said, “well, it’s nice to meet you, Blake. I’m Oscar.”

“Nice to meet you too Oscar.”

The woman finished gluing the fake hair between his eyebrows and reached for a triangular piece of fabric that looked suspiciously like an animal ear.

“Almost done, just hold still for a moment.”

The people of the Beacon Adult Entertainment had been nothing but nice to him the whole time he’d been here. A far cry from the temple of debauchery he was expecting when he’d gotten here.

But still…

He’d entered the contest as a joke!

Enter now to win a shoot and a day with a Pornstar, the digital flyer had read in big carnival-style font. He was sure it was just a scam or something in that ballpark, since it had appeared in the part of his inbox marked as spam. He’d signed on the dotted digital line and beefed up his virus protection. In two weeks, he and his friends would be laughing about it, no sweat.

But a week and a half later, it had come in the mail.

Congratulations to our new winner, it said in gold foil, you’ve won an all-expenses paid trip to Los Angeles to spend a day with one of our performers at Beacon Adult Entertainment.

He’d almost choked when he finished reading the pass. What would his Aunt say?

It wasn’t like he was a regular patron of the salacious screen stories. Most of the time, it was just that he had to scratch an itch and he bought a dirty magazine with some of the money he’d saved up or watch a video online.

If she found out he’d entered a porn-related contest, even as a joke...

It had taken every bit of his guile and not inconsiderable innocent act to get his aunt to think he’d just won a vacation with no porn involved.

Now, she was asleep in a four star hotel across town while he was sitting in a studio dressing room, getting ready to have sexual intercourse with a total stranger. Thank God the BAE Agency had sent them a personal car and he hadn’t had to tell cab ‘can you take me to the place where they shoot porn?’

It’s not like he couldn’t back out. Nothing in the contest guidelines said that he couldn’t.

But going home meant they’d have to go leave so soon, his Aunt would get suspicious and that meant he might have to come clean to her about how he won this vacation.

“All done,” Blake said, turning Oscar around in his chair so he was facing the mirror, “what do you think?”

In all honesty, it wasn’t bad. He still looked like him, just a little hairier. And the false ears gave him a wolfy appearance.

“It’s pretty good.”

“I do my best. But you might want the brace yourself.”

Blake walked to the other side of the room and took a book from out of her bag.

“The director should be here any minute?”

Oscar frowned.

“Why would I need to brace—“

“Hell-ooo!”

A tall woman with a pair of aviator sunglasses and blonde hair as generous as her busom burst into the room with a sing-song shout. Judging by the t-shirt that read ‘trust me, I’m a director’ Oscar could probably guess who this was.

“So where’s our newest star?”

Blake pointed to where Oscar sat and the boy shrunk as the woman gazed at him from over the tip of her sunglasses.

“Well, aren’t you just the cutest little thing.”

The director pinched his cheek and Oscar felt the distinct need to commit seppuku.

“And, I think I have just the girl for you.”

“Yang,” Blake sighed, “Don’t do this again.”

“Do what?”

“This whole…matchmaker thing. Winter almost quit because of you.”

“But she didn’t.”

“I’m still surprised she and Qrow didn’t kill each other.”

“John Boorman did the same thing on Excalibur with Nicol Williamson and Helen Mirren.”

“Boorman didn’t need his actors to have sex with each other.”

The woman, Yang, waved her hand dismissively.

“Details, details…”

Yang grabbed (as in, physically picked him up like a package) Oscar and sat him down in the hallway.

“So, kid, you ready to get your mind blown?”

“No.” Oscar said, only half sure that was his answer.

“Perfect!” Yang said, ushering him in the direction of what he assumed was the set.

“I know you’re nervous,” she said, “that’s natural. You read the script?”

“Yeah, it’s…”

“Garbage, I know. Just give it your all and don’t worry about how you look. And before I forget, here’s your stage name. We were a little short on time, but I think we came up with something that suits you.”

The director, Yang, handed him what looked like a business card, which Oscar took. Half a second later, he stared at her, incredulous.

“Pino Largo!?”

“Oh, come on!” Yang said, slapping him on the back, “Everyone has names like that in this biz.”

“But why do I need a stage name? You’re not releasing this!”

Yang stopped and turned to look at him, confused.

“We’re not?”

Oscar shook his head.

“No!”

Yang recovered in record time.

“Well, we didn’t advertise a new release anyway. No skin off our nose.”

                                                        🌹 🌹 🌹

The story was simple. A filthy take on little red riding hood where Little Red fucked the wolf’s brains out. Oscar was just thankful he didn’t have to wear an old lady nightgown for his part. Just be ruefully naked under the sheets in a room full of people in a mock woodland cottage bedroom.

He shivered.

Did Yang have to pick a filming locale that was so drafty? If it wasn’t for the bedclothes, he’d be freezing his butt off.

“Sorry I’m late!”

A voice off to Oscar’s left caught his ear and he turned to see who it was. It sounded familiar.

Oscar turned his head enough to see a woman in a red jacket was hugging Yang. When she finally pulled away, Oscar could see her face.

Ruby Rose.

He was shooting a porno with Ruby Rose.

Suddenly, Oscar’s throat felt like a desert and his stomach like a butterfly habitat.

Of all the adult actresses he would have to appear in a film with, it had to be with the one he’d been crushing on since the first time he’d seen her in the swimsuit issue of a magazine!

When Oscar had told himself that he didn’t follow adult entertainment, he may not have been being completely honest with himself.

With her petite cutie pie looks and Hot Topic style, she was easily the most gorgeous creature he'd ever seen. Plus, she was always so funny in her videos and make-up videos. And she also knew karate, so that was kind of cool. And also…

“Ruby! Come meet your co-star!”

Damn that crazy director! Now they were coming this way.

Just play it cool, thought Oscar, It’s no big deal, it’s just the beginning of the end of your life.

Oscar tugged the covers up over his face so that his eyes were the only thing visible. He could just say he was method acting.

“Ruby, this is Pino. He’s the one who won the contest. Say hi, Pino.”

Oscar looked up at Ruby, sweet smiling and in no way sexual. Great, not only was she sexy, she was cute and just…

Say something Oscar, he thought, anything!

“You…you have silver eyes…”

Anything but that! Ruby frowned, obviously confused.

“They’re contacts for the shoot.”

Oscar didn’t have time to apologize or explain before Yang started shouting. 

“Places, everyone! Ruby, get to costumes!”

Nice work, Casanova, Oscar thought as Ruby hurried off, if this wasn’t going to be awkward enough.                                                      

                                                        🌹 🌹 🌹

“Quiet on the set!” Yang shouted through a megaphone.

“And…ACTION!!!”

The door to the set opened and Ruby crept into the fake bedroom.

“Grandma,” she said in a faux-innocent voice, “I’m here!”

“I…I’m in the bedroom.” Oscar said. The script had said to use a fake old lady voice but Oscar had completely forgotten until after he’d said the line

“You know, the innocent angle might actually work for us here.” Oscar heard Yang whisper.

When Ruby skipped over to the side of the bed, Oscar could see what she was wearing. It was less in the sexy range and more in the cute range, with lace and ruffles but why did she have to wear it like a pro!?

“Grandma,” Ruby said, leaning in too close for Oscar’s comfort, “What big eyes you have!”

Was she wearing perfume? Was it cherry and rose scented?

“A-all the better to…to see you with…”

He swallowed. He was sure that right now he had the on-camera charisma of a pet rock. But backing out meant a disappointed aunt, so he might as well soldier on.

“My dear.”

If Ruby noticed the tremor in her voice, she gave no sign of it.

“And Grandma, what big ears you have!”

“All the better to hear you with.”

He hoped that nobody would notice how he didn’t add ‘my dear’ to that last line. He had like fifteen minutes alone with the script, so he hoped the crew would cut him a break.

“And Grandma…”

Here it comes, Oscar thought, the most embarrassing part of the script. Whoever wrote it deserves to be dipped in batter and deep fried! Ruby gripped the bed covers and Oscar braced himself.

“What a big…”

The moment the covers came off, Oscar fought down the urge to cover himself. No one’s going to see this, he told himself. When it’s over and they’ve given him a copy, he would find a dark place in the woods, bury it, and then never speak of this again. And from the expression on Ruby’s face, Oscar thought she’d appreciate that course of action.

“Oh…”

Oh? What was oh? Was that a good ‘oh’ or a bad ‘oh’?

“Oh my…”

What was she doing? Right now, she was just looking confused.

“That…that is a big cock.”

“What?”

Oscar looked down at himself. He’d always thought he was normal sized.

“I just…”

Ruby put hand on her head and chuckled.

“I kind of wish I could take a picture.”

Oscar sat up, intrigued by his co-star’s change in demeanor.

“Really?”

“Uh-huh. I didn’t know what I was expecting when we had that contest, but whoa!”

“Well, is it…is this okay?” Oscar asked hesitantly, shifting in his seat, “if you don’t want to do this, I get it.”

An amused smile turned up the right side of Ruby’s mouth.

“That's sweet of you, but don't worry. I’ve got enough talent for both of us.”

“Oh. Well that’s probably good, because…”

Oscar steeled himself. Of all the ways he could have pictured admitting this to a girl, this wasn’t one of them.

Because it’s…”

He said it quietly, hoping he wouldn’t have to repeat it. Ruby frowned.

“What was that?”

He repeated it, only slightly louder.

“One more time.”

“ I said…it’s…it’s my first time.”

For a moment, Ruby stared at him, and Oscar feared the worst. Before he could calculate where this situation fell on a scale of one to dying from embarrassment, Ruby covered her eyes and squealed loud enough to make Oscar jump.

“What!? What is it?”

“You’re just…so cute! With your wolf ears and your blushing and your big cock and…”

“This isn’t in the script but it is GOLD!” Yang whispered from offset.

Or at least Oscar thought that’s what he heard Yang say, but he was still hooked on what Ruby had called him.

Cute? Well, that was a boost to his self-confidence. It wasn’t every day a woman complimented your anatomy and said you were cute in the same conversation.

“Well, while we’re being honest,” said Oscar, “I’ve had a crush on you for a while now.”

Ruby blushed and fidgeted and Oscar’s heart went pitter pat.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. I watch your interviews and read articles about you and I…um…

“It’d be a lie if I didn’t tell you I never… caught myself thinking about him when I shouldn’t.”

“Oh?”

Ruby crawled onto the bed, leaning forward into his personal space and Oscar felt his throat tighten, but in a good way.

“Then, what kinds of things does Mister Wolf think about Little Red?”

For a moment, Oscar’s mind went blank before a laugh finally burst from his throat, a laugh which Ruby caught.

“We’re not exactly staying in character here.” Ruby chuckled.

“It’s not going to be released anyway.” Oscar said.

Ruby smirked, her lips a hair’s breath away from the left side of his mouth.

“Well in that case…”

“WE’VE RENTED THIS PLACE FOR A LITTLE OVER TWO HOURS!” Yang shouted through her bullhorn, “LET’S SEE SOME ACTION!”

That was certainly a mood killer. Couldn’t that director just leave the cameras running and buzz off? It’s not like this was going to make anyone any money.

“I’m gonna do it!”

Oscar turned to the sound of Ruby's voice. His co-star had a look of iron resolve on her face.

“I’m gonna give you the ride of your life!”

Before he could respond, Ruby tackled him onto the mattress, smashing their lips together. Oscar's mind, meanwhile, was reeling, not able to form a cohesive question, let alone think through the sensations this girl on top of him was sending by running her hands up and across his exposed skin. Maybe he didn't have anything to worry about…

                                                       🌹 🌹 🌹

I Might do a mature version on AO3 later. Sorry this is so freaking late.