#and so the working environment can suck because people are too obsessed with looking good that they put other people down

[terrorbirb]

Sorry for having opinions on every engineering post but like you guys know I have opinions on engineering.

[koqabear]

Just A Taste

♫: 28 Reasons, Seulgi // Sacrifice, Enhypen // Hush, Ari Abdul // Oh my god, (G)I-DLE

“Sometimes, the best things are hidden in plain sight; all you need to do is give in to the chase."

 vampire!soobin x fem!reader

Genre: supernatural au, office au, smut. pwp.

Word count: 9.8k

Warnings (for both the story and smut, it all blends together idk): barely edited. power imbalance oou… soobin’s a little evil and manipulative. And obsessive (severely). They have a bit of a predator/prey relationship idk how to explain it 😭😭 mentions of blood/drinking blood, soobin has like. inhuman strength. dom!soobin, sub!reader, bit of a fear kink? for both of them? dubcon, also scent kink for soobin, pet names, (bunny, bun, pet) humiliation kink ig, manhandling, dacryphilia, biting (whaaat??), implied aphrodisiacs, thigh riding, dumbification, praise, subspace…? multiple orgasms, degrading, strength kink, begging, use of restraints, breast play, fingering, orgasm control, cum eating, finger sucking, pain kink for the mc tbh… brief male masturbation? Soobin is big mwuah, unprotected sex, possessiveness, claiming/mating?, overstimulation, creampie, mc briefly blacks out lol, lmk if i missed anything..

notes: starting october with this absolute banger that was sent in quite a while ago. this story is teetering on the darker side, so please read the warnings carefully before you read!

Soobin, who is alluring and intimidating yet strange all at once— a bit standoffish yet charismatic, a total enigma to his coworkers. There’s something off about him, yet no one can really pinpoint what it is; he’s just too good at acting normal— at acting human. 

Soobin, who immediately takes an interest in his meek and evasive coworker who just transferred into his department, who always seems to be tense and even afraid when he enters the same room— naturally, his curiosity wants him to find out why.

You’re smarter than Soobin gives you credit for; because the moment you stepped into the office for the first time, taking in the new environment and its people, you immediately knew there was something wrong about the head of the department— but, instead of brushing it aside like everyone else, you stood by your gut feelings. 

A terrible choice, really. 

Because after a particularly busy evening for you, you quickly found yourself staying after hours in the office, glued to your chair and zoned out as you finished the countless tasks that were suddenly piled onto you— little did you know, it had all been on purpose. 

From the privacy of his office, Soobin watched you carefully; could it be possible you caught on? Was there a reason you never wanted to be alone with him, never afraid to show the skeptic look in your eyes the moment he tried to be friendly and approach you? It’s not that Soobin hadn’t tried to dissuade your clear distrust in him— but it never worked, and most times he found that it only made things worse for him in the end. 

Normally, he would let it be— so what if you find him strange? Everyone in this office does; though he pretends otherwise, he’s fully aware of the comments they’ve all made of him— yet it never fazes him.

You however, seem to be a completely different case; he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this way about a human, never the type to give into his carnal desires unless absolutely necessary— even then, he’s always sure to give his prey mercy before feasting, only taking enough to satiate his hunger. 

Maybe it has to do with the way your heart seems to beat a little faster around him, your eyes stricken with a subconscious fear that sharply contrasts your cold and indifferent attitude toward him, never batting an eye yet trying to hide the way your hands seem to shake when he gets even slightly close. 

Poor little thing— in your attempts to distance yourself from him, you’ve only piqued his interest further. 

Because as Soobin sneaks yet another glance at you, watching your every mannerism with hungry eyes, he’s found himself realizing that your fear is quite addicting.

With one last reassurance that the office is empty, Soobin makes his move. 

You don’t hear his office door open; you don’t hear his footsteps approaching you, don’t even feel his presence as he stands behind you, quietly watching the way your fingers fly across your keyboard in an eager attempt to finish your last task of the day. 

“Shouldn’t you be home by now,” Soobin fights the urge to smile as he watches the way you practically jump out of your seat, twisting around violently to look at him— the way you curl into yourself slightly isn’t lost upon him, “___?”

The way your name rolls off his tongue is dangerous; it’s perfect and addicting, just like the quick beating of your heart and your eyes that widen slightly as you realize who is currently towering over you— you seem unsure of what to say as you stutter your response to him, and Soobin has to resist the urge to coo softly at the way your hands grip onto your seat a bit tighter, your eyes glued to an unknown point behind him as you speak. 

“I’m almost done, I’ll be leaving soon.” you say, biting your lip as you wait anxiously for his response; though you’ve always tried to seem flippant and indifferent in front of him, you can’t control the way your weakness leaks through you as you realize where you are— in the office, alone, cornered. 

A moment passes. Soobin has yet to say anything, and despite your instincts telling you not to, you’re nervous enough to look up at him, trying to gauge his reaction through his expression. 

His eyes lock onto yours immediately. 

You’ve never gotten a good look at his face before; every time he’d walk into the same room as you, you’d make it a point to avoid him entirely— but now, as you really begin to take him in, you realize with a slight dread that he’s incredibly handsome— you think you know why your coworkers were so eager to dismiss any strange behavior from him now. 

“There we go,” he smiles, his plump lips stretching into a smile; his teeth are perfect and shine even under the old lights of the office, and you can feel yourself shrinking slightly as you take in his smile— oddly dangerous, your eyes falling onto his sharp, fang-like teeth that glint at you, the expression more warning than welcoming—  and you will yourself to meet his gaze once more, his eyes scrunching up in a way you would’ve considered endearing— but the way his eyes flash isn’t lost upon you, and you can practically feel your heart stopping at the sight. 

“You’re finally looking at me.”

That wasn’t normal. Normal people can’t do what he just did— they can’t make their pupils glint with the same, sharp crimson that Soobin’s just did, taking in your reaction with a dark desire— no, if it weren’t for the fact that Soobin’s mere presence was already enough to make your hair raise like a frightened cats, you would’ve had half the mind to blame it on your tired brain.

“What was that?” you ask quietly, not trusting your voice to be any louder as you scoot your chair away from him slightly— a horrible choice on your part, leaving you more pressed into the desk and as a result, more trapped.

You think you might have lost your mind as you watch Soobin tilt his head, eyes almost transforming and turning into something more sweet and innocent, round and sparkling under the old office lights as he pouts slightly; a total change from the man seconds before, and you would almost begin to wonder if your mind really was playing tricks on you, if not for the subtle twitch of his lips as he takes in your befuddled expression. 

“What are you hiding,” you say, your voice becoming stern as you finally decide to take a leap of faith; you’ve had enough of cowering in suspicion, beliefs that only grow stronger as you stand, taking in Soobin’s amused expression as he watches your brave front. 

“What do you mean?” he asks, still pretending to be clueless as he takes in your accusatory tone with a raise of his brow.

“You… you’re not normal,” you feel a bit ridiculous the moment you say it out loud, but the way the man before you only begins to smile blatantly spurs you on, “You don’t have to hide from me— I’m not stupid.”

“And what will you do about it?” He asks, and it’s only then that you feel your streak of courage begin to fade; he’s taken slow, deliberate steps toward you, and before you can stop it, he’s got you pressed against the desk— hands on either side of you, arms caging you in as he looms over you dangerously, “Will you tell the others?”

You freeze as he begins to lean towards you— you’ve gone in total panic mode, unsure of what to say or do as you merely stand helpless to him, feeling a primal fear take over you as your poor heart beats harder against your chest— Soobin’s lips are near your ear, the soft huff he lets out in amusement defeating to you. 

Slowly, he begins to lean down lower— you don’t know what his intentions are or what he may do, but all you know is that you can’t remain still any longer— his breath fans across the exposed skin of your neck, and your eyes widen as you feel his teeth graze the sensitive flesh, razor sharp and threatening as he threatens to carve a path down the column of your neck; like instinct, your fists come up to push against his chest, using your full strength to push him away in a rush of adrenaline.

Except, it doesn’t work. 

Soobin remains still. Entirely. He doesn’t budge, doesn’t move an inch, even when you continue to punch at him, even beginning to kick at him when that doesn’t work— still, he remains unfazed, still as stone as you continue to try and get him off you.  

Before you can even process it, his hands fly up to catch your own; his grip is bruising, and you can’t control the pained yelp that escapes you from how tightly he’s got you in his grasp. His strength… is inhuman. Helplessly, you meet his eyes. 

“How cute.”

He smiles, and there they are again— his sharp fangs, his eyes that seem to glow threateningly at you, and his bruising strength that makes you wonder if he’ll shatter your hands— except, this time, it all seems to piece together, your mouth falling open as you begin to conclude the impossible. 

“Your heart might explode at this point,” he mutters indifferently, eyes darting down to your chest that rises and falls with rapid, panicked breaths, “What’s going on in that darling brain of yours? You seem so, so afraid.”

“What…” Your words seem to die on your tongue as you thrash weakly in his grip, attempting one last time to escape before you finally give up, discouraged as you try to continue to seem brave, even if Soobin sees right through it, “What are you…?”

Soobin grins. 

“Now you’re asking the right questions.”

♡♡♡

Your requests to transfer departments have been denied. All of them. 

Not a day has gone by where you feel safe in the office since then. Of course, there’s no way Soobin would do anything— not in such a public setting at least, where he’s vulnerable to exposing his real identity. 

That still didn’t stop you from avoiding him— if anything, your attitude toward him only became more blatant ever since that fateful night— and though you wish you could say it worked out well for you, you know that’s a lie. All it got you was more questions from your coworkers and rumors that stirred up about the two of you— whether it was a secret vendetta or a soured relationship, you think you’ve heard it all. 

“What is it about him that you just don’t like?” they would ask, nosy as ever as you simply tried to laugh it off and deny your behavior— if you told them the truth, what would they even say? How would they react?

“Why… are you telling me this?” you had asked him, sitting back against the desk in order to not fall— your legs were weak and you’re sure they would buckle the moment you tried to stand, eyes teary and giving away your fear as you stared up at Soobin.

“Because,” he laughed, the sound soft and breathy as he looked down at you, his tongue running along the top row of his perfect, razor sharp teeth; the sight was enough to make you shiver. 

“No one will believe you.”

You haven’t allowed yourself near Soobin’s presence since then. Haven’t looked in his direction, haven’t gone near him, always sure to give him a wide berth whenever he’s in the same room as you, eager to show him that you don’t tolerate his presence and that you refuse to acknowledge him, no matter how… terrifying and threatening he might be. 

Throughout the time that has passed since his confession and now, he’s taken every subtle change of yours with great interest— any change of expression, change of behavior, change of feelings, he’s taken note of it all. 

Recently, he’s taken note of your heartbeat. The sound is usually very jarring to him the moment he senses you; always rapid and panicked, even more so once you realize he’s nearby— and he’s found himself searching for the sound more often than not, beginning to seek you out even if you may not realize it. 

Though Soobin has noticed something different these days— at first, he thought he was imagining it, that it was just his deprived brain coming to conclusions that simply weren’t there, but the more he paid attention to it, the more he noticed it. 

Your heartbeat has changed. It was miniscule at first, something so minute and subtle that if Soobin hadn’t spent most of his working hours paying attention to the sound of your heart, he could have missed it. But he didn’t, and the sound only became more and more blatant to him the more time passed. 

Your heartbeat wasn’t the only thing that changed. Slowly, you changed as well. He wasn’t stupid; he wasn’t ignorant to the way you began sneaking glances at him, observing him when you thought he was unaware— but when it comes to you, he pays more attention than he lets on—  and if were to say that he didn’t notice the way you’ve began to study him with a subtle curiosity, that would be a downright lie. 

Soobin finds your act of bravery very cute. 

So, when the news is delivered that you would be presenting the monthly report of the company’s revenue to the higher ups, you think you felt your legs give out on you— Soobin could only watch with amusement from his office as you sat at your desk, a troubled expression on your face and your lips stuck in a pout as you chewed on your bottom lip like a habit— a habit Soobin had come to be jealous of, slowly finding himself craving to be the one to sink his teeth into you. 

Soobin isn’t one to feed whenever a craving arises; he only does it when absolutely necessary, finding perfect victims before he swoops in and takes his fill— always enough to satisfy himself, but never enough to hurt. 

His methods had been enough to have him survive and live a normal life, unlike those who jumped at the chance to fill a simple craving like beasts. So, being around you was both thrilling and dangerous— he found himself unable to control his thoughts the longer he remained around you, wondering what it would be like when he finally got his hands on you, wondering if you’d be willing to submit to him and let him use you as necessary. 

For a second, he even ponders keeping you for himself. 

♡♡♡

It’s late at night when you’re finally forced to present, the timing odd and unfortunate as you were told by your supervisors that “it was the only time that worked best.” The sentence was enough to have you irritated by the time the hour came along, forced to stay in your office long after everyone else had left before you finally made your way towards the presentation room on the top floor. 

It was eerily quiet and empty as you made your way up, save for a janitor here and there or another employee that was finally leaving after their overtime; you had five minutes left before you had to present, and you could feel anxiety building up inside you as you shifted your weight on your uncomfortable heels— you had been wearing the uniform for so long that you couldn’t wait for the second you could go home and change.  

Your heels clicked against the tiles of the floor, your hands gripping tightly onto the papers and laptop in your arms as you took in how many people were in the room; it wasn’t as much as you expected, but their power and positions had been enough to scare you straight as you enter slowly, closing the door behind you with a soft click as you greet them politely.

Your smile falters as you spot Soobin at the end of the meeting table, leaning back against his seat with a bored expression. 

The meeting room feels a lot smaller than it did before; you feel suffocated and on edge as your eyes meet his, feeling stiff as you slowly make your way to the podium. You’re quick to look away, eyes glued to the floor as you clear your throat nervously; even now, you can feel his eyes burning into your skin.

Soobin can feel his desire burning stronger the longer he looks at you; he’s able to take you in properly, no longer able to hide or run away as you push through the presentation, the polite smile you keep on your face professional despite the rapid beating of your heart. Soobin can feel it all— he’s trying so hard to keep his instincts under control, but you make it so difficult as you remain nervous and skittish before him, eyes meeting his as he becomes unable to hold back the smile that spreads on his face. 

You feel oddly cornered; you’re surrounded by people, but it feels like it’s just you and Soobin as you watch him flash you a smile, dangerous and terrifying as you take in the way his sharp teeth manage to stick out, even at a distance— you can’t help but feel as though you need to run away and hide. 

It’s always expected to stay back and wait for everyone to leave after you’ve presented; so that’s exactly what you do, head ducked down as you pretend as though the idle screen of your computer is much more interesting than your supervisors that file out and chat amongst themselves. Biting your lip, you try to ignore the way you can practically feel Soobin’s presence as he comes closer— you’re eerily aware of the way it’s just the two of you now, the heavy door clicking shut after the last person that left. 

Your attempt to ignore him until the very end is almost cute to Soobin. He can’t help but let out a breathy laugh as he watches the way you flinch, figure becoming tense as you take in the way he comes up behind you, looking over your shoulder to see what could possibly be taking up your attention like this. 

“Well done,” Soobin says, his voice smooth as ever as he takes in the way you shiver slightly, “your presentation was quite impressive.”

All you can do is let out a soft thank you, hoping your uninterested tone and closed off posture is enough to shake him off— but of course it’s not, and you’re practically scared to breathe as you hear the man take a step closer to you, your jaw clenching as you feel his head hovering over your shoulder. 

“Is something wrong? You look a little… tense.”

You’re shutting your laptop and ready to exit in the blink of an eye— but before you can even take a step towards the exit, you’re being pulled back, pushed against the podium and shrinking against it as you meet Soobin’s gaze. 

“Please, leave me alone.”

There it is— the look Soobin has desperately been craving, eyes darkening at the way you stare up at him, meekly masked with a brave front as your eyes give away your true emotions; he inhales slowly, and he can practically drown in the way your scent changes at his proximity, the once sweet and alluring smell now intense and intoxicating, the twinge of something new piquing his interest as he finds himself stuck on it, unsure of what it may be. 

“Have I done something wrong? It seems that you didn’t like me from the very start,” Soobin’s act of innocence is far from amusing to you. You’re unsure of what response he could possibly be looking for as he stares at you expectantly, pouty lips and round eyes a contrast to the true identity he revealed to you long ago. 

“You know what it is,” you say, finding yourself unable to make space between you and Soobin as you press yourself further against the podium, “You— you’re not… human. You’re dangerous, I don’t want you near me.”

Your words are enough to have Soobin’s brows raising in surprise— the sudden confrontational tone you’ve taken on is quite surprising, and he finds himself oddly satisfied with the way your heart rate slowly begins to change, your scent going from something more panicked and sharp to something that practically makes Soobin dizzy— he has to hold himself back from getting lost in it as he smiles softly at you. 

“Dangerous?” he repeats, though he doesn’t seem to be offended by the word as he slowly begins to lean in; of course, you lean away in response, but it only gives you so much space before you’re craning your neck back awkwardly, leaving you in a vulnerable position as Soobin eyes it carefully. 

“Have I… done anything… dangerous, to you?” 

Soobin’s voice is barely above a whisper; if you weren’t so focused on his every word, you could have missed it. 

You gulp; Soobin’s eyes flicker down from yours, and you can feel yourself shiver at the realization that he’s staring at your neck. His words ring out in your head again, and you feel yourself tensing from a threat that seems to be hidden behind it all. 

“You know I wouldn’t hurt you...” Your eyes are widening at his confession. There’s an unknown emotion swimming in Soobin’s eyes, and you can feel your hands cramping from how hard you’ve been gripping the edges of the podium behind you. 

His eyes flicker back up.

You can feel yourself get transported back to the lonely day at the office, the scene eerily familiar as you take in the way his pupils become dilated, an intense glow of crimson swimming within as you find yourself unable to look away; the sight is almost alluring, and you realize with a heavy dread that Soobin is holding back— from what exactly, you’re unsure. 

“You think I don’t notice the way you look at me?” he asks softly; you’re brought back to your senses as he leans in, his lips ghosting over your ear as he speaks, the deep rumble of his voice sending shivers through your spine, “I’ve noticed it all— especially the way your heart and body reacts to me now. Was it fun, pretending to hate me?”

Everything is so overwhelming. It feels as though your head is underwater as your mouth parts, unsure of what Soobin is going on about— you practically jump at the feeling of his hand landing on your waist, cold and big as his thumb gently caresses the spot.

“Aren’t you curious, bunny?” he asks, and you don’t realize that your eyes have been shut tight until you feel him pull away, confused by the sudden absence of his presence. 

He seems to be lost in thought; his chest heaves with a deep breath— once, twice, his eyes fluttering shut in concentration— then he sighs, eyes slowly opening and a smile twitching at his mouth, lips slowly being stretched into a grin. He looks at you, at your cowering figure, your pounding heart, and your scent infused with a certain twinge he realizes he’s very familiar with— just, not familiar smelling it from you.

“You’re enjoying this,” your scent is thick and heavy, settling deep into his head and leaving him intoxicated from the realization that you’re aroused, face heating up and expression dropping with horror at his words; it’s no question, especially with the way your lips press together to withhold a weak whimper, “aren’t you?” 

When you push Soobin off this time, he lets you; he stumbles back and watches the way you shake your head frantically, as if that could deny the way the way you have yet to run away, the way your scent only grows tenfold at the way he takes slow, deliberate steps towards you— your face is flushed and your legs tremble pathetically as you step back from him, walking along the long table as he only steps towards you in response. 

“I’m— I’m not, you’re—” you can’t even seem to finish your words, mind blanking and eyes becoming glassy as he realizes that you’re embarrassed; he coos softly at the realization, reaching out teasingly to grab you, laughing heartily at the way you yelp and flinch away— as though he were something you should be guilty of being attracted to, as if the way you were feeling was dangerous. 

And maybe it was. 

“Are you embarrassed?” he coos softly, lips pouting as he looks at you with pity; you’re running out of room, about to go around the table and inevitably make your way back around to the exit— but not if Soobin can help it, eager to not let you out of his clutches this time as he rushes over to you; he’s grabbing your waist and pinning you against the windows of the meeting room in the blink of an eye, taking in the way you squeal in surprise and brace your hands against his chest— your heart is pounding at a harsh pace, a stark contrast to the way you feel nothing at all under your palms that press against the firm muscles of Soobin’s chest.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he sighs, pressing you flush against the windows and watching the way your eyes screw shut, attempting to curl in on yourself as you press your thighs together tightly; the sound of your tights rubbing together is almost deafening to Soobin, and his fingers dig just a bit deeper into the flesh of your hips, as though he were holding himself back.

“It’s normal to feel this way, you know,” he coaxes you softly, whispering soft reassurances as he runs his hands up and down your sides, smoothing the fabric of your clothes and running down your tight mini-skirt; feeling the way your thighs tremble as his fingers skirt along the material that covers it, blunt nails scratching your flesh and pulling the sheer cloth along. 

“You’re so tense, bunny,” he mourns, feeling the way your breath hitches as his hands move— one pressing against the small of your back harshly, the other grabbing at the back of your thigh in attempts to press you closer against him, caging you in entirely; your back is arching and your head is involuntarily tilting back as your neck is bared to him; through wet lashes and wide, doe eyes, you finally look up at him.

“Don’t be scared,” he breathes out, his hand trailing up your thigh, cold palm smoothing the material of your tights, ruthless against the cloth of your skirt as he drags it along— hand hitching on your shirt and tugging it up slightly, your chest rising sharply with the breath you take as he brushes up, up the delicate column of your neck until he’s got your chin in his palm— fingers digging into the plush of your cheeks, forcing you to keep your eyes on him as he smiles— it’s sweet, it’s dark, it’s predatory, and it sends a lick of fire down your body.

“I’ll take good care of you.”

When Soobin begins to lean closer, you don’t flinch away; your mind blanks and your lips part expectantly, pulse still quick and afraid under Soobin’s fingers that press against your neck, just under your jawline— and your eyes flutter shut, delicate lashes decorated with tears that wet your skin, a dark facade that only spurs Soobin on more— he’s finally got you under him, and it’s just as thrilling as he imagined. 

When he kisses you, it’s gentle. He’s treating you like a fragile thing, testing the waters, waiting for you to respond to the way his plush lips press against yours, sighing in content the moment you do; your hands still shake against him though, unsure of what to do with them, only making Soobin hold back a groan at the way you grab onto the clean, pressed shirt the moment he slips his tongue past your lips, tasting you with such eagerness that you’re left breathless.

You’re shocked stiff when you feel it; his teeth, razor sharp and cautious, grazing along your bottom lip. The whimper you let out does nothing to distract Soobin from sensing the way your scent spikes, dense and rushing to his head as he does the only thing he knows how to do; his teeth sink into your swollen bottom lip, ripping a pained moan from you as your hands panic and press against his chest— but he stays there, feeling his fangs sink into the flesh, feeling the way blood pools around the wound and onto your mouth, on his teeth— he’s just as quick to pull them out, his hand that was once on your jaw traveling to the back of your head in a haste; eager to keep you close, tilting your head up and keeping your mouth parted as you simply allow him to lick and suck at the blood, to kiss you as though he could die any moment now. 

It doesn’t hurt after a moment— that much surprises you, the only pain you feel coming from your burning lungs, from the need to be parted and breathe— but Soobin has deemed you his oxygen, his life force, reluctant to part even as you whine and plead quietly under him; after a moment, he finally gives in to your weak cries. 

The string of saliva that connects you two is stained red; just like Soobin’s lips, and undoubtedly your own as well. His teeth are stained and your blood continues to fill your mouth, the taste metallic and strong as you try to regain your breath— slowly, your lip begins to feel strange, a tingling sensation running from your wound to your tongue, through the blood you swallow and into your system; your eyes widen, and Soobin merely looks at you with a knowing smile. 

“What’s happening to me?” you ask softly, hands trailing up his chest to get purchase on his shoulders, broad and stable as you hold onto them like a lifeline— your body feels warm, your head is fogging, and your wound no longer stings— but the blood still dribbles out of it, far too much for you to keep up with it as you swallow continuously— and the feeling only worsens, until your thighs shake and Soobin’s touch suddenly feels much, much warmer. 

“I feel— I feel…” you’re not sure how to describe this feeling; all you know is that you’re pulling Soobin back in for a kiss, fingers threading into his soft hair and tugging desperately to feel his tongue against yours again; to feel the way it runs along your bites soothingly, whimpering softly and being met with a soft groan in response; your taste, something Soobin once thought would be the thing to finally satiate him, is something he simply cannot get enough of. 

“Feel weird, bun?” he asks softly, pulling away and cooing at the way you cry at the loss of him, “I know, I know— let me make it feel better, okay?”

Your form is no longer curled up in a desperate attempt to close yourself off; you’re no longer trying to hide the way your panties stick to you and your stomach burns with a strong desire, the window suddenly cold against you as you allow Soobin to press more against you, to place a thigh in between your legs, firm and thick as he goes up, up, and against your cunt— you practically keen at the feeling. 

“It’s okay bunny, you’re okay,” Soobin says softly, both his hands finding themselves on your hips as he presses you against him; cute skirt now ruffled just under his hands, showcasing your sheer tights and your lace panties that are completely soaked; soft cunt grinding against his thigh, leaving a mess of slick arousal that only serves to spur the both of you more— your scent invading Soobin’s senses shamelessly, just as shameless as the sounds you let out, hips angling so that your clit can rub against the harsh muscle of his thighs.

He clenches and jolts the muscle against you. You’re left to weakly hold onto him, a hand on his forearm while the other is placed on top of his own hand, gaze going down to watch the way you rut against him stupidly— harsh pants leaving you as you watch your panties become soiled, your tights suddenly a lot thicker as they impede you from really feeling him— but you push the thought aside in favor of looking back up at him, unable to hide the shiver that wracks through you at the realization that he was already watching your face intently.

“Feels good?” he asks, tilting his head as he narrows his eyes, gauging your expression carefully— you nod frantically, attempting to say something, only for it to be cut off by a choked moan— Soobin has pressed your cunt flush against his thigh, forcing you to a slow grind that threatens your folds to spill out your underwear, the dirty sounds of your tights rubbing against the fabric of his pristine, smooth dress pants enough to have your face burning— and Soobin revels in the shame that it brings you, taking in the subtle, acidic changes of your scent with a deep inhale— he’s fascinated, and he refuses to let you go until his curiosity is satiated. 

“What do you want, bunny?” The nickname affects you, that much he can tell— he holds you tighter, leans in to whisper in your ear, already feeling the way his close proximity is enough to have your heart rate spike, even if just for a second.

“How do you like it, hmmm? Want me to go harder?” his thigh tightens in a truly cruel way, angling it so that you can truly feel the contours of his every muscle— “faster?” and suddenly, you’re nothing but a pretty doll in his arms, his hands guiding your pace so that you’re riding him as recklessly as you want; the mewl you let out is enough to give him the answer he wants, changing his rhythm until he gets a particularly pathetic sound out of you. 

“Like this?” He continues his set pace. And you’re shivering, unable to do nothing more than chant yes, yesyesyes, breathless and practically inaudible as you focus on the hot pleasure that you feel; Soobin is busying himself by whispering sweet nothings into your ear, things that would have you gasping and turning into a flustered mess any other day— but here, in these lonely, dark hours, with no one else around, you allow yourself to indulge; allow yourself to nod along to the way he asks if you’ll be a good little pet for him, if you’ll let him use you until he’s satisfied— and it all goes straight to your cunt, bringing a fresh wave of soaking arousal and making the pleasure in your stomach tighten until it’s unbearable. 

You’re so close— and you’re quick to let Soobin know, watching your frantic attempts to take over the pace he’s set for you, whining and whimpering weakly as you search for that one thing that will set you off— and Soobin abandons whispering into your ear to place delicate kisses behind it, plush lips trailing down the column as his fingers dig into your hips, pressing you down against him, just like the way his lips trail lower, pressing kiss after kiss until his mouth opens and—

A cry is all you can muster as you fall apart on him. His teeth that grazed the sensitive spot of your neck have since then retreated, and Soobin is quick to sweep back in to steal your lips, pulling you in for a kiss you don’t have the mind to reciprocate; mind emptied, cunt clenching and soaking his pants as you allow him help you to continue riding out your high, whimpering weakly at the way he breaks the kiss to coo soft praise at you.

Come on bunny, let go sweet thing, that’s it, so perfect for me.

You’re not fully there by the time your orgasm has subsided; your mind is just as tingly and foggy as the rest of your body, your movements lethargic as you grab desperately at Soobin— craving nothing else but him, feeling as though the burning of your body can only be cooled by his touch— your eyes are glassy and fucked out as you stare at him, hips moving without you realizing as you silently beg him for more.

Soobin feels as though he could make you cum like this a few more times; entranced with the way your brows furrow and your mouth drops the moment you fall apart, the way your moans become choked and breathless as you ride out your peak— but he’s also undeniably greedy to be inside you, a desire he knows you share, judging by the way your hand has begun to trail down his chest slowly, eyes drifting down to the outline of his hardened cock against his smooth dress pants.

“Please…” you whisper out weakly, looking back at him with a face so pretty and undeniably pathetic that he refuses to hold back any longer— grabbing your hips and turning you two around quickly, forcing you to stumble back until you’re pressed against the table— and it doesn’t end there, letting out a whimper as Soobin hoists you up, the wood cool under your ass as Soobin continues to hover over you with need; you shrink under the intensity of his gaze, feeling your body buzz with a slight fear— and a slight adrenaline. 

“What is it?” he asks, voice apathetic as he places a firm hand on your chest; pushing you down slowly, until you’re laying on the table and Soobin has parted your legs with ease to stand in between them; you’re whimpering out half-hearted and incoherent requests that Soobin doesn’t bother paying attention to, the hand on your chest making quick work to unbutton your shirt; low-lidded eyes taking in the cute bra that was hidden beneath, just as lacy and pretty as your panties as he smiles at the sight— your mind sobers for a second as you attempt to cover yourself in embarrassment, but Soobin refuses to let you as he gathers your wrists in his hands and pins them above you. His face is dangerously close to yours as he glares at you. 

“Tell me bunny,” he grits out, feeling his clothed bulge press against your warm cunt, tensing at the way your arousal already leaks through the clothing; his hold tightens around your wrists and you squirm, legs locking on his hips as you try to grind your cunt against him— the sight is both endearing and pathetic to him. “I won’t know what you need unless you tell me.”

“Need you, please please, wanna feel you,” you ramble, wrists fighting to get out his grasp as you hips buck under him; your mind has become foggy once more, nothing else but a deep desire in your head that you know only he can satiate— you’re desperate for his touch and he knows it, so to have him deny you like this is nothing short of cruel. 

He’s not satisfied by your begging. His face remains stoic as he lets go of your wrists, eyes narrowing at the way you grab onto his sleeves, eyes glassy and fucked over as you cry for him not to leave you like this— your body feels weird, and you just don’t know how to make it go away— you’re trying desperately to tell him what he wants, but nothing seems to work as you run your mouth until you’ve finally pressed the right button.

“Soobin, I— please, feel so weird, just wanna feel you, please help me, please?” your body is restless and you feel as though your heart only beats for the man above you, hot tears spilling from your eyes and running down your face; Soobin is quick to brush them away with gentle hands, shushing you quietly as he pulls at his tie; it was practically suffocating him anyways, and he feels as though he can finally breathe as he finally takes it off— and begins to tie it around your wrists with deft hands, enough for it to restrain you but not enough to hurt— and he’s left with a bit of extra length that allows him to pull your wrists down and flush against your stomach, watching the way your fingers absentmindedly stretch toward him, furthering your attempts to touch him as your rambles continue seamlessly.

“Soobin…” you cry softly, your chest heaving softly, supple skin peeking from your undone shirt, “feels so hot, wan’ your help… need your cock…”

There’s a thin layer of sweat that covers your body; a light sheen that sparkles along your chest and abdomen, hidden by the white, neat shirt that Soobin simply pulls further apart with a rough hand, untucking it haphazardly from your mini-skirt— and you shudder, unable to do nothing more but lay there as you wait for Soobin to do something— a soft cry of his name has him shuddering, dark eyes flickering back to your face as you repeat the pitiful sound. 

His name has never sounded sweeter. He’s leaving wet, sloppy kisses along your breasts, free hand shoving the rest of your skirt up and onto your waist roughly— your body jolts from the crude movements, thighs shaking at the way his cool fingers skirt around the inside, drifting closer to where you need him the most, a shuddered sigh escaping you once his cool palm is pressed onto your cunt. 

The fire in your body burns brighter. His touch is addicting and the lust that courses through your blood is only amplified by the feeling of him teasingly biting your breasts— never enough to break the skin, but enough to remind you of who he is, of what he’s capable of. 

His strength is something you will never be used to— he’s able to rip your tights with a single hand, not flinching at all before he’s moving onto your panties next; the sound of the fabric tearing is eliciting a soft gasp from you, only for it to be replaced with a broken whine as his fingers glide up and down your slit— feeling just how much of a mess you’ve made, soaking his fingers and dripping onto the table as you buck your hips at him desperately— his fingers are wet as they circle your clit slowly, needy whines escaping you at the small stimulation, quietly begging for more— but he simply teases you, dark eyes staring up at your face and drinking every change of your face eagerly.

His fingers slip in so smoothly it makes him let out a soft moan; you’re so wet and tight, needy walls pulsing and sucking him in desperately, your cries still broken as you try to grind your hips against his two fingers, long and calculated as he presses along your walls, curling curiously and searching for the spot that will have you weak beneath him— and he finds it in no time, a long moan escaping you the moment the pads of his fingers press against it, curling and uncurling, watching the way your legs shake and jump at the sensation with a wicked grin; he’s pumping his fingers into you, adding another finger in, stretching you out until you feel as though you can’t handle anymore— and he tugs at your restraints teasingly, looking down at the way your nails dig into your palm and your arms become stiff from the pleasure— it only takes the feeling of his palm pressing against your clit for your breaths to pick up and become frantic.

“Soobin— Soobin please, ah— so– so close, gonna cum, ngh—” you’re thrashing under him, the pleasure so intense that you’re fighting against his restraints, head turning to the side as though you could hide your face from him, “please, need it, need t’cum, fuck…!”

You’re breathless and on the verge of tears, and Soobin takes it all in eagerly; he watches the way your face twists with pleasure, the way your arousal has soaked his hand and leaves your tight-covered thighs slick, and he feels the way your walls begin to tighten around him, so close, so impossibly close— he just needs to grind his palm against your clit a little harder, harshen his thrust so that your sweet spot is abused and you’re left a wailing mess, maybe bite at your skin teasingly, a promise for what’s to come—

But he doesn’t. He does the exact opposite of that, watching as your eyes widen and a broken look of realization dawns on your lips, eyes cloudy and filled with tears that refuse to spill; your voice is defeated and breaks with every frantic plea, your hips bucking desperately to try and get that fleeting pleasure Soobin is now denying you.

“No, nononono,” you babble, hiccuping softly as you screw your eyes shut, tears finally escaping you at the action, “noooo, please don’t stop— close, was so close to….”

Your words are interrupted by a soft sob that escapes you, your mind and body so desperate for pleasure that you feel as though your whole life-force is being taken away; your soft pleas blend together as you stare up at Soobin with pathetic eyes, hands that were once closed shut now stretching out to try and reach for him— but he refuses, staring down at your broken form with a blank face.

Soobin is quick to shut up your slurred pleas; his fingers are slipping out your cunt, dripping and shining with your slick arousal as he brings them up to your face— slapping softly at your cheek, watching the way your cum smothers over the soft skin and your mouth opens without much of a thought— your lips are tempting and pretty as they wrap around his fingers, a shiver running through his body at the feeling of your warm tongue running along the soiled skin, tasting yourself and letting out a soft moan; hazy eyes staring up at him, ruined cunt still bucking up at him subtly, as though tempting him to finish what he started.

And that’s exactly what he’ll do— his fingers are slow to slip out of your mouth, watching the dumbed out expression on your face as he does so— and his hand is trailing back down your body, brushing over the exposed skin with your spit-soaked fingers, not stopping until he’s back down at your pretty cunt. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this, bunny,” he says softly, his thumb going to rub gentle circles on your clit, his index and middle finger running up and down your folds— his other hand has abandoned your restraints, and you attempt to sit up slightly as you watch him undo his pants— unbuckling his belt and letting it and hang loose, undoing his jeans with haste and letting them lay low on his hips, his hand disappearing beneath the waistband of his boxers— and you can only let out a whimper at the sight of him finally pulling his cock out, long and thick with a flushed tip, leaking so much precum that you wish nothing more than to clean him up nicely with your tongue.

The pressure on your clit is becoming harsher; he’s building you up again, watching with apathetic eyes as your sounds begin to pick up again, still tense from your previous, ruined orgasm. You shake your head at the feeling, whining that it’s unfair, don’t wanna cum like this— need you inside, need your cock, pleaasee— god— 

But he doesn’t stop— he’s stroking his cock at the same pace he’s set for you, the slick sounds of him fucking his fist going straight to your head, eyes fluttering shut at the overwhelming sight before you, nimble fingers swiping over his tip to collect his leaking arousal— and you’re close again, you don’t think you’ll be able to stop it this time, even if he pulls away, even if he tells you not to—

Soobin lets you cum this time. He watches the way your eyes widen and your mouth falls open with shock, his face twisting into concentration as he lets you cum on the head of his cock, pressing it in and breaching your walls just before you hit your peak— and you feel stretched, you feel full, helpless cries escaping you as he begins to thrust the rest of his length into your clenching walls, hands unsure of what to hang onto before you’re able to grab a bit of his shirt— and you’re pulling much harder than expected, eyes widening as you watch a few of his buttons pop off, not able to focus too much on it due to the feeling of his thick, pulsing cock entering you with every clench of your walls. 

Your chest heaves in attempts to calm yourself down— his shirt is twisted in your fingers, but it’s not enough to ground you as you feel the way his length curves into you, pressing against the abused and sensitive spot that has you keening and clenching around him, shaky legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer— and he’s hovering over you, supporting himself with a forearm by your head as the other holds onto your waist. 

He begins to move— it’s slow and subtle, starting at nothing but a grind of his hips as he feels the way your hot walls adjust around him, squeezing and fluttering and expanding, all as you try to take in his impressive size— then he pulls out slowly, feeling the way your cunt attempts to protest the action, your eyes rolling back at the way you feel every detail of him, pulling all the way out until the only thing left is his tip that catches on your entrance, the rest of his length covered in your shared arousal. 

Soobin remains there for a second; deep breaths fanning against your skin as he closes his eyes in concentration, willing himself to not cum at the feeling of you, the sight of you underneath him, the sounds that are panted and whined directly against the shell of his ear. 

Without warning, his hips snap back against yours— the action is sudden and has your body sliding up the table slightly, only to be brought back down by Soobin, who wraps the length of his tie around his hand and pulls you back against him— burying himself deeper into you, feeling the way his cock practically splits you open— but you like it, your scent practically emptying his mind and your walls gripping him like a vice— it’s hard to move, but Soobin accepts this challenge eagerly as he begins to fuck you. 

Slow, it’s so agonizingly slow. But it’s deep, and Soobin angles his hips so perfectly, grunting against your ear and letting out sighs with every pull of your restraints, the tie tightening around your wrists and sending you back down on his cock ruthlessly; you’re nothing but a doll for him to use and control, your sharp heels digging into his back as you try to hold onto him helplessly, treated like nothing but a ragdoll as Soobin slowly begins to pick up his pace. 

Then his hips are slamming against yours. The sounds of skin against skin is echoing harshly into the meeting room, and his cockhead is mean and thick and heavy as it presses against your sweet spot, again and again until you’re hiccuping moans, unable to breathe, unable to fight against the overwhelming pleasure— and it’s just how you like it. 

Your mind is racing, your mouth unable to spit out a coherent thought— but your body speaks for you, and Soobin watches as you begin to grow restless under him, the way your legs tense and your hands pull at his shirt, eyes rolling to the back of your head and fluttering shut as he retaliates by fucking you a little harder; your wrists ache and so does the rest of your body, but you don’t seem to care as you walk this tightrope of pain and pleasure, something Soobin is well versed in— he laughs softly at your fucked out expression, releasing a sharp breath before his lips are hovering right by your ear, sentences punctuated and broken up by the exertion of his body and the moans that your cunt rips out of him. 

“That’s a good bunny— cunt so fucking tight– shit, just wanna make you mine, keep you to myself, claim you like you deserve—” he listens to the way you react to his words, feels it, your cries and nods not slipping past him as he lets out a breathy laugh, “you’d like that? Yeah? Fill— fill you up nice and full— fuckin’– take care of you like a good little pet— hah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You’re nodding, fuck, there’s drool building up in the corners of your mouth, tongue lolling and absentmindedly brushing past the bite marks on your lips, the dull sting only bringing about more shocks throughout your body, desperate to be satiated, a fire begging to be put out— and the idea of being nothing else but Soobin’s, his to use and claim, is absolute heaven in your mind. 

The knot in your stomach is becoming impossibly tight; you’re on the verge of hitting your peak again, Soobin can tell, yet there’s something else your body seems to be begging for— and he knows exactly what it is, grinning wildly and practically stealing the thoughts from your head as he pulls the tie in his hands roughly; his inhuman strength sending you back down on his cock with ease, lips brushing against your ear and hot pants making you shiver as he speaks to you in that dangerous, low voice of his. 

“Say it,” he growls, his pace not faltering even if your cunt is willing to hold him so tightly he’s unable to pull out at all, your head thrown back and your eyes screwing shut from the pleasure.

“Tell me you want it. Tell me you’ll take it– fuck– take it like a good pet— say it. Say it, use your words, bunny.”

Your words are coming back to you with a particularly unforgiving thrust of his— eyes widening as they search for Soobin’s frantically, only to be met with his head of blond hair and his face that’s tucked in the security of your bared neck— and you let go of any shame that was left inside you, a carnal and primal feeling overtaking you as you beg, and beg, and beg. 

“Please– please please, I want it, I need it— Wanna be yours, wanna be claimed— fill me, use me I– need— need it, hnng– want it, want you to fill me, cum inside please— been so good, right? I’ll take it, I— ah! I— wan’ you to claim me, make me yours—!”

Soobin has never heard anything more perfect. He’s calculated as he thrusts right into your sweet spot, once, twice, three times— and he sinks his teeth into your pretty little neck, listening to the wanton squeal you let out, cunt immediately soaking and choking his cock— but he holds you down nicely, pressing his weight onto you and placing both hands at your hips, making sure you can’t squirm away from him or his cock that lets you ride out your orgasm, rutting his cock into you even after you’ve begun to shake from the sensitivity.

Your blood is heavenly. There’s no single word that could describe its taste, the way it makes his body shiver and his eyes roll back, finally setting him off the moment he swallows. And he cums inside you, fills you up good, the warm liquid squirting endlessly inside you, prolonging the feeling with the subtle rocks of his hips. It goes on longer than the two of you expected, filling you up with cum until it has no room to go, dripping out of your abused hole and leaving a ring around the base of Soobin’s length.

He listens to the way you cry and sniffle above him, lost in the pleasure— it doesn’t hurt. No, far from it. It makes you see stars and makes another weak wave crash over you, and you think your consciousness is slowly slipping out of you from the intensity of the pleasure you’ve received; Soobin’s lips are stuck on your neck for a few more seconds, warm tongue brushing over the sore punctures before he’s pulled away, your neck sensitive and bruised from the bite.

And it heals nicely the moment he’s pulled away. But there’s something different this time, something that shows up on your skin that he’s never seen before; two faded dots remain on your skin, and though it’ll remain inconspicuous to everyone else, Soobin immediately recognizes it with a soft shudder— he feels his cock twitch inside you.

It looks like his body has agreed with his mind; you’re the perfect fit for him, his to use and take care of until he can’t anymore— he rubs soft circles on your hips, straightening up and looking at the mess before him with fond, lustful eyes— a sheen of sweat covering your whole figure, your closed eyes and parted mouth, your shirt that’s been left open and mirrors his own torn one, your bound wrists and skirt that’s haphazardly bunched at your hips. 

And his eyes wander lower, to take in the way your thighs continue to tremble and his cum leaks out, staining your tights and the table of the meeting room— you’re waking once more with a soft groan, looking up at Soobin through bleary, red-rimmed eyes. 

He leans over, hovering above your face; pulling you in for a sweet kiss, smiling at the way you can’t even reciprocate it properly— and he nips at your bottom lip teasingly, feeling the way you immediately shiver in response. 

“So good for me, bunny,” he smiles, continuing to trail kisses all along your face, on your jaw, traveling to your neck— and his eyes scan your faded bites with satisfaction, kissing it softly and feeling the way your body warms immediately.

“You’re all mine now, you know that?” your cunt clenches involuntarily at his words— and he’s slowly beginning to rut his cock into you again, already feeling a cruel thirst fester within.

“All mine.”

You can take another round, he’s sure of that— after all, you’re his good little pet.

[thegeminisage]

ASK MEME

i got tagged by @runawaymarbles, tyvm i lov doing these

What book are you currently reading?

no books atm but i'm actually getting through the entire tag of a rarepair from ff13...only 41 fics :(

What’s your favorite movie you saw in theatres this year?

did i go to a theater this year...? surely at least once. OH YEAH i went to see sonic 2. since that's the only movie i saw in theaters this year that'll be my favorite one

What do you usually wear?

comfy-at-home clothes: tank top, shorts, no-show socks, hair fork, & bandana. out & about clothes: bandana & hair fork if i'm working or my hair needs washing, otherwise i keep it loose. a lot of black pants/shorts and bright glittery monochrome or tye-dye tank tops w/ black or rainbow choker, rainbow earrings, pride bracelet, smiley face ring, rainbow ring, ace ring, and sometimes my triforce necklace. if it's cold i will also wear rainbow arm warmers/socks and fingerless gloves with the pink peace symbols on them. if i'm REALLY dressing up i will wear rainbow tights under a long shirt or short dress. wow sorry this is the longest answer so far i just really love bright fashion!!! i can't believe god nerfed me by making plus sized clothes fucking suck so bad

How tall are you?

5’1 :/

What’s your Star Sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event?

i think i'm actually a cancer LMFAO. and stuck with this username...idk about any celebrities but my birthday IS on the summer solstice which is absolutely bitchin' in my professional opinion. i could not possibly have asked for a better date although i do wish it didn't have to fall on father's day sometimes

Do you go by your name or a nick-name?

i go by liz which is not my legal first name. technically my legal middle name isn't liz either it's like elizabeth obviously but my first name is cringefail and nobody can spell it OR say it so i just don't tell most people what it is lol. i started going by liz when i was in 8th grade and sometimes my mom STILL messes it up...

Did you grow up to become what you wanted to be when you were a child?

no BUT as a kid i really really really really REALLY wanted pink hair. as an adult no one can stop me. kid me would be so jealous of adult me's look in EVERY way

What’s something you’re good at vs. something you’re bad at?

good at: dreaming. you know how in the 40s-60s most people dreamed in black and white because that was how tv looked? apparently if you play enough video games you'll get so good at controlling a simulated environment you can simply wake up on command. i never completely mastered lucid dreaming but it's a neat trick anyway. bad at: sleeping. exhibit a: i am answering this meme at 2:30 in the fucking morning, and i have not had 6 hours of uninterrupted sleep since december 10. that's like 28 days!

Dogs or cats?

CATS!!!!!!! i like dogs too tho

What’s something you would like to create stuff for?

i would love to draw some zelda art. i just need a new tablet sadly none of the old ones work with my pc

If you draw/write, or create in any way, what’s your favourite picture/favourite line/favourite etc. from something you created this year?

UGH i can't post it, it's in the undisclosed project

What’s something you’re currently obsessed with?

so a very long time ago when we were teenagers my brother showed me minecraft. i played half an hour of it and then gave the controller back and told him i couldn't keep going because i would quite literally never put it down if i did. unfortunately i did NOT show that same level of foresight and self-restraint when downloading the demo of SLIME RANCHER. in my defense i was utterly unprepared for its sheer potency. i played exactly four minutes of the demo before i caved and bought it - $5 was a steal - without realizing how absolutely lethal it is to combine adhd with a farming sim especially during seasonal depression months. this thing has been churning out dopamine so fast my stupid little rat brain can't keep up. i'm frying every last pleasure receptor i ever had as thoroughly as i possibly can. i am begging one of you to physically come to my house and uninstall it from my pc.

What’s something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year?

andor 🙏 sorry to all andor enjoyers but it fucking sucked (except for the prison break)

What’s a hidden talent of yours?

i'm freakishly good at packing things. items into boxes, boxes into vehicles, organizing drawers and closets, etc. at my house we call it "tetrising" since i guess that's a pro gamer move that translates to the real world..................

Are you religious?

no i am disqualified for being gay <3

What’s something you wish to have at this moment?

a completed copy of this photo album i'm supposed to be making. i got behind bc i was playing slime rancher :(

ok im tagging @slaygentford @maulthots @brownbicon @machidielontheway @paty-ofarrell @ozymandiasdirge @moogleterra @marcelgerard @elsa12tmnt @smellslikebot @youngbenkenobi and anyone else who wants to do it, do it & say i tagged you!!

[wench-and-jezebel]

NCIS Reaction: The Curse

Wench (@scripted-downfall) reacts [with (maybe) occasional asides by Jezebel (@typicalopposite)]

Since this is apparently a running part of my reaction, today’s snack report: unfortunately paltry because I have zero appetite.  I am, however, having apple soda again, so all hope is not completely lost!

CROSSBOWWWWW

Beautiful crossbow, actually

I know he just found a body or something, but I'm still stuck on the crossbow because it was pretty

Body it is

[I bet it’s terrorists]  Ya know, we haven’t had terrorists in a whole damn episode; it probably is lksadjf;lk

Tony being good with maps gives me life

They almost left him :(

He had to run to catch up :((((

Not Tony complaining about their lack of funds again (Valid, though)

"How did he get so..."  "I believe 'mummified' is the adjective you're looking for"  Actually, my The Mummy-obsessed mind autofilled "juicy", but that's exactly the opposite end of things

[Ooffff flip phone]  I love flip phones.  Had a flip phone for years and I’d still have one if I could.

TONY, YOU'RE BRILLIANT.  BUDDY JUST SHOWED OFF HIS NAVAL KNOWLEDGE AND I AM PROUD

I can't tell whether to be happy that Gibbs remembered Tony's two-year anniversary as an NCIS officer or be annoyed that he was that dismissive of it. 

Going with annoyed given his subsequent, "Seemed like a good idea at the time"  [With Gibbs, as you’ll see in later episode, he is very protective of Tony but he’s very… I can’t think of another character to compare him to, but he does care about Tony]  

– – –

Here, we paused the show to have a “short” conversation.

Wench: Bobby?

Jezebel: If Bobby’s personality was more like Rufus.  Like Bobby combined with Hotch.  Or… Botch.  If you will

Wench: Well, that's both good to know but also... idk, maybe this is a flaw in my personality, but I always feel like constant ribbing goes too far.  Like, for a Dark Angel parallel, Max and Alec's banter might not have been bad, but it's constant and oppressive and too extensive to be just light-hearted banter.  Her initial "Alec, as in smart-aleck" isn't that bad on its own.  Combine it with everything else, it gets less haha, they're bantering and more damn, she's an asshole to him.  Here, the teasing would have been fine, but now it's kinda wearing.  And I feel like that being your work environment would suck.

Jezebel: And that’s fair. He is very much a grouch teetering towards if not sometimes full on ass hole. But man’s had a hard life and let it make him a hard ass I guess you can say. Lol

Wench: Sure, but he’s mainly only being like this to Tony.  Kate has had a few interactions like this, but not nearly as many.  And Ducky — as mentioned — has to deal with Gibbs interrupting him a lot.  But still, way more Tony than anyone.

Jezebel: Well, Tony’s the one (other than ducky, I think) who’s been with him longer.  Yes it’s normally geared at Tony. And if Tony is your favorite, I’m guessing that would bother you. Initially, Gibbs was my favorite when we first started watching again because I knew the full backstories and what was to come before watching. So I guess I just view it as Gibbs being Gibbs, and they don’t seem hurt by it so it is what it is lol

Wench: I get that, but also… idk, again, maybe I’m putting myself into character roles (not just Tony’s) too much, but that kinda.  Sucks.  Like, I ramble to people and have them walk off without paying attention, or interrupt because what I’m saying is “unimportant,” and yeah, maybe it is, but it’s still something important to me.  So I see Ducky getting interrupted/dismissed, and I know how much that can, frankly, hurt.  (I recognize that me rambling about something frivolous when we’re hanging out doing nothing anyway is different from a rant in the middle of a crime scene investigation, but it doesn’t change things that much.  The point stands.)  Or I see Kate getting disciplined for asking for an explanation, and that irks me because I completely get the importance of understanding why you’re doing something.  (And yeah, I get that sometimes you have to snap to attention and follow orders, but not all of Gibbs’ little that was an order; I don’t answer to you things are in situations that are time-sensitive to that degree.)  Or my family reunions, with nastiness hidden under “teasing.”  You don’t go along with it and you’re “not a good sport” or “too sensitive”, but it’s so oppressive that it wears, and ignoring it becomes vaguely impossible.  There’s so much that it’s not just a slightly-mean-spirited-but-still-funny-haha joke; it’s more serious than that.  (This is the Tony parallel of the story.)  And seeing these dynamics played for laughs is a bit.  Iffy.  To me.

Jezebel: And all that is fair. And is it possible that you’re putting yourself too much in the characters’ shoes, but that’s both fair and kinda a big part of shows in general. And something I don’t think writers consider. Because, iirc, it’s never touched on that any of this bothers either Tony or Ducky, and both will fight to the death over Gibbs, as would Kate (except she has repeatedly fought him on her thing 😂).  And by fight, I mean also in a sense of if someone came and was like you’re a horrible person look how you treat them. They would be like whoa ho no stop! Leave him alone

Wench: I mean… tbf, them defending him doesn’t mean that much.  Just pointing out that Dean would do that for Sam

Jezebel: Fair, but Dean also expresses things Sam does to hurt him. Again, iirc, that’s NEVER touched on here.  (Ok, maybe not EXPRESSES, but you know they do.)   Also, to this: they are brothers and Dean has been raised to do NOTHING but protect and love Sam. And to put him about everything. Tbf, Gibbs is just Tony’s boss and Ducky’s coworker (I don’t think he’s his boss).  They don’t HAVE to care so much for him. They just do.

Wench: So, tbf, that was just an example of how someone’s personal willingness to defend treatment does not automatically make it good treatment… but, r.e. your point about them not having to care about GIbbs: that doesn’t change the fact that they do.  And they largely seem to respect him.  So his judgement still matters, even if it doesn’t have to.

Wench again, but a slightly separate topic: I do think that a large part of the issue is that this is the comic relief.

Jezebel: Yes!!!  It’s very…  I can’t think of the word. The show is a serious and sometimes dark show.  I think it might get better for you as it goes

Wench (continued from above): But they only show the filler, and not much of their other interactions.  So their relationships basically come across as "Gibbs 'banters' with Tony about disrespecting him" without actually showing the parts where he does the respecting that would counterbalance it.  (yet).  Or "Gibbs doesn't care about Ducky's rambling interests and seems to think him a bit doddering" without showing the conversations where that doesn't happen.

Jezebel: Fair

Wench: And I get that's not the focus of the show, so the writers didn't prioritize it... but it's still important.  It's the difference, imo, between direct characterization and implied characterization.  This show currently is very... surface-level.  There's no need — or desire, seemingly, on the behalf of the writers — for analysis by the audience; everything important thus far is simple and spelled out.  The script more or less says that Gibbs respects Ducky; thus, Gibbs respects Ducky.  And, since the script says it, they don't need to actually write it because obviously it's true.  That's the direct characterization bit, and, until it's directly contradicted, that's just the status quo.

Jezebel: Yes, and that’s what I mean when I said that the writers didn’t consider viewers taking the banter personally and it coming across as rude instead of funny.

Wench: Whereas I'm looking at the indirect characterization and seeing nothing to support this direct characterization.  There's not much underlying respect to their interactions.  Aside from when Ducky's actually giving facts about the case, every interaction has been Gibbs shutting Ducky up.  (e.g. walking out/hanging up on one of their conversations, etc.)  So, intellectually, am I surprised that none of the team is ever negatively harmed (ostensibly, at least) by Gibbs' personality?  No.  The side of their relationships that would make it healthy are just always happening off screen or something.  I'm just saying that the characterization is inconsistent depending on whether they're talking on screen or not, and taking the on-screen interactions as a sign of how they interact off screen makes things a lot less happy-funny-haha than it's intended.

Jezebel: Yeah, that all makes sense. Just, like I’ve said before, I don’t dive that deep into stuff, so that’s why I initially don’t get it. But I get it 🙂

Wench: That sounds vaguely like I'm browbeating you into agreeing.  Plz tell the reaction viewers (and me) that I'm not doing this alkdsfj 

Jezebel: I think I’m at the point where I see that you take the characterization very seriously, judging by what you’re saying.  And I take what the script says for what it says, if that makes sense.  

Wench: Yeah, I follow.

Jezebel: But I can tell you that it’s not that deep or whatever, and you can know it’s not that deep because you see in the script that it’s not supposed to be that deep.  This is just supposed to be comic relief.  But if you’re still affected by it like it is that deep, that’s fair, and who am I to say you’re in the wrong for that, you know?  Or anyone else for that matter.

Wench: Yeah, I get what you’re saying.  And I doubt I will stop commenting on them being mean to Ducky or Tony (or maybe even Kate, sometimes, especially if I start liking her more), but I recognize (and, technically, have since the beginning of the show) that it’s not as serious a thing as I’m saying.  I know it's comic relief and a very surface view of writing, intellectually, but I still want to remark on it, emotionally.  You know?

Jezebel: Yeah that’s fair

Wench: Ready to continue?

Jezebel: Yeah, but hold on let me heat up my (normal) food

Wench: ljlaskdjflkadjf rude

Jezebel: 😂😂😂😂

Thus concludes the “short” conversation that lasted 50 minutes.

– – – 

The British side of me is annoyed by the “lootenant” instead of “leftenant.”  (No, I’m not British; I was just raised on British Isles television.)

Abby is adorable

Kate's hair being so long and unrestrained bugs me

Abby is still adorable.

Oof, poor dude being charged as a deserter :(  BUDDY WAS DEAD  [Right ?!?]

Bravo, Tony.  Research skills!

Not them being mean about his research skills :(

Okay, the conversation about GIBs vs Gibbs is kinda funny [😂😂]

"You took the easy way"  Accurate. Go off, Tony

Tony and Gibbs in chorus is rather funny, ngl, but also.  Gibbs, leave off the "if" statement if it changes nothing about the outcome alkdsjf

I do appreciate Ducky chatting to the corpses every episode  [It’s gonna be sad eventually]  Oof  [That’s all I say]

THE LIGHT BOARD IS SO COOL

Also, vaguely adorable that he remembered the case by connecting it to Gibbs

Once again, the emphasis on his rambling is a touch sad but whateverrrrr

Gibbs not listening to him even about the case tho ("No!  I just told you...")

aksdjflkasjdf "*heavy sigh*  Well, looks like we're gonna have to go to Hawai'i, boss."

Oof, the talk of ages  [I feel ya Gibbs]

I appreciate Tony giving shit back to Gibbs this time

Dude, his age is bound to be in his file somewhere

Tony... affectionately, shut up :)  [Tony done put him in his feelings]

Oof.  "He'll be exonerated?"  Um... 'bout that.

Damn, six years isn't bad!  Though, btw, Randy is automatically a bit suspicious.  Was he in the service?

Something about the wife's acting in this scene is also a bit suspicious, but I don't think it's intended to be.

[OH DAMN.  He died the day she was born; that sucks]

Damn, Gibbs, go off.

I will give you that Gibbs' acting does a bit to cover up the writing issues; he's clearly harsher and more serious when he's actually angry at someone than when he's bantering.  (e.g. that agent vs Tony/Ducky/et al)

This time, Tony's the one harping on a joke lakdsjf [😂😂😂]

Gotta love adrenaline-junkie!Tony coming back for an episode

BRINGING BACK ABBY’S SIGNING!!!

– – –

Okay, midpoint reaction time…

I honestly think this episode is better in the writing.  It's really ironic that we just had the discussion above on the episode (other than the pilot) that's actually been not-bad on the "teasing" front.  For one thing, it's far less restricted to one person.  Gibbs, Ducky, Tony, Kate, even Abby... they've all had moments where they're teasing and moments where they're being teased.  For another... idk, it's all hanging together better.  There are moments where each character gets to be shown as blatantly competent on screen.  Gibbs, obviously, has one as the main character, but you've also got Ducky exhibiting his stellar knowledge of autopsies (past and present), and Tony rattling off random naval/geographical facts, and Kate handling research/next-of-kin interviews on her own, and Abby doing her own awesome lab stuff.  This is the first episode — except, again, maybe the pilot — in which I didn't feel like most of them were reduced to archetypes (the mad scientist; the jester; the techie; etc)  [🙂]

Storyline is interesting — no terrorists quite yet, though — and decently paced thus far; we’ll see if that continues.  Uh... it's getting late and I'm out of things to say rn; stay tuned!

– – –

alkjfalkj Abby and Tony, the duo I needed

Damn, an actually enjoyable interaction between Kate and Tony  [☠️☠️]

Still loving Abby's fashion, lab appropriate or no

"What schmuck?"  "Our schmuck, unfortunately" alksdfj

WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT RANDY BEING SUSPICIOUS [😂😂😂😂]  One of these days, I'm gonna actually solve the case before they do successfully.  (I still maintain that the last one should have been a computer virus)  [☠️😂]

Not Tony harping on the funds again alskdfj  “First class toilet?”

“How old do you think Gibbs is?”  aslkdfj

Never trust chick flicks, I swea-  YES, GIBBS, AGREED  [☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️]

[I love that after that whole “short” interaction…. You have had twenty moments of Gibbs being different ☠️]  I know, I’m crying.  I’ve made a fool of myself.  Our readers will never trust me again.  (I SWEAR IT WAS ACCURATE IN THE OTHER EPISODES OKAY)

[I’m ded at how he said Gibbs] aklsdjf

“I don’t even want to hear the word ‘curse’ out of your mouth, DiNozzo.”  “Would I say that, boss?”  “You said it to me.”  [“You said it first”]

[She’s got the smirk of a guilty person.  GUILTY]  Tis true. But also, is this your reaction!?!?!?  :)))  [*silence*]  This was a joke; please keep doing it  [😂😂😂]

… [Well shit]  Damn, she's got receipts.  Literally.

Abby and Ducky, my dears, I love you

[Not a niblick]

This is called "how many times can we say 'niblick' in one scene" [☠️☠️☠️☠️]

I like her necklace again

"... my dear"  "... my darling"  I love them

[Guiltyyyyy]

He said the word "fraternize"; that's a yes on the romance (GOmens vibes)

"That wans't in your report"  "It didn't seem pertinent"  It's always pertinent, my dude.

Oop, Tony's flirting smile makes an appearance

"Do not 'sir' m-"  [*simultaneously* Do not sir me]  Oi.  [= Tony called me old and now my feelings be hurt]  alksdjf;lkasdjf ACCURATE  [The reading part still kills me. ‘Cause same my dude. My old dude]  :(  [I have to take my glasses off to read☠️]

You can tell things are getting intense; the music is picking up

I really want it to be Randy, plz.  I called it and I wanna be rightttttt.

Abby's getting so many good scenes; I love her  [Yessss]  Like her music too, btw.  [😂]

“Speaking of big boys”  [👀 that’s why people ship you two, Tony]  I mean.... Steddie quotes…  But also, no.  I don't like it.  Please, no.  [☠️☠️☠️☠️  Hurry up and appear McGee]  Yeah, I, uh… I don’t like it.  Their characters just.  Don’t work.  Imo.

Who’s snoring?  [☠️☠️☠️☠️ That meeee.  I’m Gibbs]  alskdjflaksdjf rude.  Don't you dare.  I need you to proof this before I post  [Ok lol]

TONY'S HAIR

"I'll get them to confess" mmmhmmm

Another good Kate-and-Tony interaction

aslkdjflkasdjf "hermetically sealed" gives me Now You See Me flashbacks.  "That's it: I'm allergic to hermetic seals"  

[Ooooooh…  I hate her]  Yeahhhh  [Get her Kate]  Okay, I confess, I appreciate Kate’s passion here  [Chick fight.  Pull her hair.]

Kasjdflkasdjf THE ANIMATION OF THE CRIME

alksjdf poor Abby, getting her animation slighted.  I knew I didn't like that petty officer chick; "petty" is right

[Hinky]  HINKY.  Such a good word.

[☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️  Noooooo, I’m ded]  Did.  Did they legit say that she.  Walked by.  And distracted the other servicefolk.  Because she turned heads.

ONCE AGAIN.  WHY DOES ANYONE TRUST THE NCIS ANYMORE. THEY'RE ALWAYS LYING.

[So many.  SOOOOO MANNNYYY.  Episodes end with that elevator shutting.]  aksldjflkasjf

*elevator shuts*

– – –

Okay.  Um.  I’m aggravated.  Not because the writing/acting/characterization was bad, because it wasn’t.  But because.  After I spent all that time detailing how it’s been bad in the past.  They then went: PSYCH.  And changed the handling of the entire cast and character list.  I liked it better, don't get me wrong, but those were not the characters who'd been in every past episode since the pilot.  Jezebel, please tell me you agree.

Anyway... I enjoyed that episode, so I'm pleasantly surprised.  The Abby interactions with everyone else were delightful.  The team was a bit less archetypal/formulaic.  The comedic relief was lighter, less implied-to-be-harmful-even-if-directly-stated-as-not.  I liked Kate this episode; she had a lot of Max's positive traits and very few of her negative ones: smart, capable, and impassioned, but not rude, arrogant, or logic-blind.  Gibbs was a lot more of a grouchy mentor figure (affectionate) than a grouchy mentor figure (derogatory).  And the others, of course, I loved.  I always do, though, so that's not a surprise.

And I'm realizing that you're definitely asleep or something, aren't you, Jezebel.  [*silence*]  I think that’s a yes.

Welp.

Okay, then.

This is great.

Ummmmmmm.  *nervous chuckle*  Not that I’m paranoid about posting my reactions without Jezebel beta’ing them, but I’m abso-freaking-lutely paranoid about posting my reactions without her beta’ing them.  Also, I literally cannot post this without her say-so because it has her words in it, and I have to get her consent.  But, I have work tomorrow and I kinda wanted to post this before I went to bed.  But, I’m tired.  But- [I’m awake, lol.  And 😂😂😂😂😂 I agreee (about the characters) It THRILLLS me that this happened this particular episode]  SHE LIVES!  Muahahahah, I can post on time.  This midnight conversation with myself is still staying in the reaction, however, because I find it hilarious.

Hope you enjoyed our wackiness, and the random way this show seems to thrive on proving me wrong… ‘Til next time!

[midnightmusings88]

Hello

How are you?

I wanted to know if I have any chances of romantic love and a husband in future? I've been perpetually single all my life due to trauma from my parents and the oppressive community I live in. Only now that I'm so much older that I'm somewhat able to stand up for myself. But i fear I've lost my opportunity.

Thanks a lot.

Heyo! I hope you are well. Thanks so much for your patience and for the opportunity to read for you. I hope it resonates and helps you.

The thing that really stood out to me about this question is that you seem to be feeling hopeless. I want you to know first and foremost that it is never too late to change your life, and there are always opportunities for you to pursue and have the things you want. The single biggest message I have for you, backed up by the cards, is that you need to summon some faith. Have an inner knowing that everything you want is available to you, and that you deserve to pursue it. That said, let's dive into the reading.

So, honestly, I did try to pull some romance-related messages for you, but the Universe (or God, or whatever you'd prefer to think of it as, if you believe in that) corrected me that we need to address your current situation instead. As far as the "oppressive community" in which you live, it's a dead end. There is no chance of real happiness for you if you continue. I tried to pull more on it, but I didn't get a whole lot of specific details other than that it's extremely superficial and secretive (I kept hearing "hush hush" and "shhhh" in my head). There was/is probably an obsession with looking like everything is good, even when things are not. Also, this might be random, but I got that either one of your parents had an affair, or possibly you yourself have tried to be with someone before and it didn't last because there were too many secrets (or you had to keep the whole relationship secret). It doesn't have to be either of those things specifically, but I just really strongly felt an affair-type energy, which could play out a number of different ways. Something very forbidden, kept on the down-low, and very impermanent. I can sense the unhappiness, some of which is clear in your ask, that this environment has brought you, and yet I see you still trying to convince yourself that it's fine. I feel this very strong emotional attachment, sentimentality, and sugarcoating coexistent with loneliness, confusion, and self-doubt. This is, as patronizing as this may sound, pretty common, to different degrees, among many people. So many people live their lives simply accepting that they're dissatisfied, and trying to convince themselves that it's all good. The job that drains them, the soul-sucking (and not in a good way hehehe) marriage, and the big empty house are what they wanted, right? People create their own prisons all the time, myself included. Thing is, your success and happiness in life are all dependent on whether you choose (and I say "choose" because you absolutely can) to break free from whatever imprisons you.

I heard repeatedly while I was pulling this reading "You need to want better things for yourself". You, like so many people, are afraid of taking a leap of faith towards an uncertain future, preferring the familiarity of unhappiness. I would look into Søren Kierkegaard's philosophy, if I were you, specifically his work about leaps of faith. You can find plenty of videos on the subject on YouTube, or articles on the internet. I pulled several cards that reference independence, life satisfaction, fulfillment, even financial comfort, if you extricate yourself from where you are now. That means that good things are waiting for you!

Think of life as a table with a lazy Susan in the middle, filled with lots of colorful, delicious dishes, some mediocre ones, and some dry, crusty, burnt, or rancid ones too. The table isn't circular, so not everyone has great access to the lazy Susan. Plus, it rotates, so even if the opportunity passes once, the same or a better one always comes around again. The people who are closest to the middle have the best opportunity to grab the finest food, while those situated on the ends often find that even if someone graciously hands them the gourmet meals, they're often cold and unappetizing by the time they get to their seat. Maybe you aren't seated close to the middle of the table, so good things look far away from you. That doesn't mean you can't have them! It just means you need to be self-sufficient enough to ask or reach for the food you want yourself. Accept that you're not happy right now. Accept how you really feel about yourself, your life up until now, and who/where you want to be. Have faith that this life is for you! Life is a gift filled with opportunities; start living it to the fullest.

This reading took a lot out of me haha, but I really hope it reaches you. This felt really important, and I also empathize with you. Wishing you all the best.

[trentaafcsblog]

NSFW Alphabet

Mason Mount

A - aftercare You’d be lying if you said that this wasn’t sometimes your favourite part about having sex, something about how soft and caring Mason becomes once the two of you have reached your highs just making you feel like the only girl in the world, and don’t get me wrong, he looks after you in the best possible way when you’re doing the business, but he’s just so much more attentive afterwards and he’s happy to kiss, cuddle and play with your hair as long as you need him to

B - body part Your ass, god he’s got an obsession with it, always catching him licking his lips whenever you wear *those* gym leggings or a tiny pair of shorts, and it’s got to the point where it feels weird not to have his hand glued to it twenty-four-seven

C - cum At the start of your relationship you were super strict about Mason wearing a condom, so it’s only recently that you’ve started to be a bit more adventurous when it comes to your orgasms, letting him try out all kinds of different things to see which you both prefer, whether that’s cumming on your ass, your your tits, in your mouth or inside your pussy, you’re still trying to figure that your one out, but it’s honestly the hottest thing knowing that at least one part of your body is decorated with his seed

D - dirty secret You’ve recently discovered the world of sexting, and it’s quite possibly your favourite thing, loving how you can pass your thumbs tapping away on your screen as ‘oh I’m just messaging my boyfriend’, when actually you’re begging him to be balls deep inside of you tonight whilst he fucks your pussy raw

E - exposed Not to jinx it but you haven’t been caught yet, there was one time where his mum came home from work early and you were face down on the mattress whilst Mason fucked you from behind, but that’s as close as it’s got, and fingers crossed it stays that way

F - foreplay Again, it’s something that’s taken time for the two of you to get into the swing of doing, but now it’s become an essential part of your sex lives, sometimes not even bothering to do the actual deed and instead just letting Mason eat you out whilst you suck his dick, loving how the other person can bring you so much pleasure in the most incredible ways

G - goofy At the start of your relationship there were a couple of times when you ended up in a fit of giggles, mainly because you were both worried incase you got ‘too’ into it and the other person wasn’t ready, but now you’re so much more comfortable around one another that it’s rare that you have outbursts of random giggles anymore 

H - horny Mason finds it hard not to be when you’re his girlfriend, always wandering around with a boner because you look so good all the time, looking at you with a twinkle in his eye each time you come down wearing a tiny top or a little pair of shorts in the hope that you catch on to what he’s thinking

I - intimacy It’s such an important part of your relationship, taking you a little while to feel completely comfortable around one another but now you’re both so close, both emotionally and sexually, which obviously helps when it comes to the bedroom

J - jack off Normally he tries to keep himself under control, especially since he knows that his hand has nothing on yours, but there have obviously been times when he’s been caught out and he just has to relieve some of his tension, sometimes struggling to keep himself sane when you’re busy spamming him with messages explaining how you’ll be sucking him off later

 K - kinks Mason’s got the biggest praise kink, loving how he thrusts deeper into your pussy or groans in your ear each time you call him your good boy, finding it so hot that those kinds of compliments just roll of your tongue without you even thinking, his brain fogging over with pure pleasure each time and causing his cock to almost explode 

L - location You usually stick to the bedroom, obviously there have been occasions where you’ve had sex on the sofa halfway through a movie or let him bend you over the kitchen whilst you’re making dinner, but you much prefer to keep it under the covers

M - moaning That boy knows what he’s doing so it’s practically impossible for you to hold back your moans, always turning into a complete whimpering mess for him when he’s slamming into you, and Mason’s just the same, always grunting and groaning in your ear with each thrust because you make him feel so good 

N - nudes You’ve both sent and received a fair few, Mason always choosing to pass his over when you’re out for lunch with your friends or sat at work, a series of photos of his rock solid cock appearing on your screen and causing the most furious blush to sweep across your cheeks, Mason finding it hilarious how you’ll get so turned on in an environment where you can’t do anything about it, only giving you a reason to punish him when you’re home 

O - oral His favourite thing in the whole wide world is seeing you knelt before him with his cock in your mouth, fucking your face for hours on end just so that he can hear you gagging and spluttering around him, your eyes streaming with tears and rolling back into your head as his cock hits the back of your throat

P - position Mason’s got two favourites - doggy and missionary, his choice of position depends on the mood that he’s in, opting for doggy if he wants to be a bit rough and reach his orgasm quickly, but choosing missionary when he wants to be a bit more intimate with you, loving how he can be so much closer to you and how you can feel his thrusts so much deeper

Q - quickie You both prefer longer sex sessions but obviously when the seconds are counting down on the clock then you’re making the most of the time that you have together, letting Mase fuck you at the most ridiculous speed before he needs to go to training or before you’re about to head out for dinner with your mates, loving how you can go about your day afterwards as though you haven’t just had your brains blown out, nobody knowing what you’ve been up to other than you two

R - risk You’re not the biggest risk takers to be honest, preferring to keep your sex life exclusively between the two of you rather than sharing it with a whole car park or holiday complex, but saying that, you have let Mason fuck you on the balcony in the early hours of the morning and you’ve also sucked him off in one of the back rooms at Stamford Bridge, yet other than that it’s pretty much safe sex in the company of just you and Mase

S - spit/swallow Swallow, always, why would you want to waste the aftermath of all of your hard work? Mason finding it the hottest thing ever that you don’t even have to contemplate your next move when he cums in your mouth, giving him your best innocent eyes or a little wink before you’re swallowing it down without any hesitation

T - toys You’ve got a vibrator that occasionally makes an appearance when you feel like you’re missing something in the bedroom, but nine times out of ten, you just let Mason do the work, his cock hitting all of the places that no toy could and his fingers rubbing your clit in a way that feels so good that you can’t even compare it to a vibrator, both of you preferring to be the people that bring each other pleasure, rather than letting a toy do the work

U - unfair Never ever ever, Mason’s honestly the sweetest person when it comes to sex so he’ll never cum before you, and even if he’s desperate to reach his orgasm, then he’ll try and hold off until your pussy is spasming around his cock first, hating seeing you begging and whining for him to let you cum so he’s always making sure that your needs are met well before his own

V - volume You can be prettyyy loud, which isn’t really hard when Mason fucks you so well, loving how you can scream his name as loudly as you want when it’s just you and him, your moans bouncing off the walls and echoing in his ears for hours afterwards, honestly finding your whines and whimpers so fucking sexy, especially since he knows he’s the only one making you feel that way

W - wild card Mason’s recently invested in a Polaroid camera to try and capture some of your best memories together, and somehow it’s managed to make its way into the bedroom too, resting on his bedside table until the perfect photo opportunity arises, taking a few snaps and hiding them away ready to look at when you need a bit of inspiration

X - x-ray It’s a good size, a veryyy good size, well and truly filling you up and managing to hit all of the right places, so you definitely aren’t complaining, even if it does sometimes take you a while to adjust to his length, much to Mason’s satisfaction 

Y - yearning He’s always in the mood to fuck you, I mean, who wouldn’t be when they’ve got such a pretty girl as their partner? Always catching him staring at your ass or letting his mind run free when his gaze brushes over your tits, but you don’t mind, because secretly you’re doing exactly the same to him

Z - zzz It’s hard not to fall asleep after sex, particularly your longer sessions, and regardless of whether it’s emotion-based or rough, it’s still wearing you both out and you can’t help but collapse in each other’s arms and drift off into a deep sleep afterwards, staying in the same position until the sun starts rising and you’re woken up to the memories of last night 

[jackrrabbit]

Unprofessional [pt. 1] /// Yandere Tendou x f!Reader

Summary: The new hire you’re supposed to be training at your office job is a little too attached for his own good…or yours. [Part 2]

A/N: Someone requested yandere Tendou and I was like !!! However when I wrote it, it turned out kinda long so I split it into 2 parts; I’ll answer the req when I post part 2. Anyway I’m obsessed with the concept of salaryman Tendou, please enjoy!

Tags/warnings: yandere, timeskip (Tendou is 22-23 in this), workplace/office setting, liberal use of “senpai”, alcohol, Tendou’s crackhead energy is toned down a little bit because of the setting [In part 2: smut, 18+]

You don’t really like Tendou when you first meet him.

Your first impression when your boss introduces the new employee is that he’s all talk and no substance. He’s been hired fresh out of university, and he’s got the stink of a former frat boy all over him—that baseless enthusiasm, chaotic goodwill and arrogance mixed together. That might have been your type when you were still sucking down cheap keg beer from red solo cups, but you’re two years into your career as a real grown-up adult now, and the cockiness that radiates off Tendou in waves is just…annoying.

Unfortunately, when your boss tells you to take the newbie under your wing, train him, and be his mentor, it’s not a request. It’s a demand. So you decide to suck it up. If you’re going to have to spend every second at the office with Tendou trailing after you like a baby duck, you may as well get used to him.

After a few weeks, you have to admit he’s not that bad. Sure, he’s not the best at respecting personal space, but how can you blame him? When he looms over you to reach for a file above your head for the nth time and traps you between his body and the cabinet, you finally lose your patience and snap at him to give you some space, but he looks so surprised and apologizes so sincerely that you can’t help forgiving him. You feel a little bad, even, when he explains that he’s never worked in an office before so he’s not used to all the rules that he’s expected to follow in a professional environment.

You can’t really fault him for that, especially when you’re the one who’s supposed to be teaching him these things. “It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean anything,” you tell him, and he perks up so quickly that you feel even worse for chewing him out in the first place.

The thing is, Tendou doesn’t really stop getting close to you once you chastise him. It just bothers you less. The dozenth time his hand lingers over yours while you’re passing him a document or he picks an invisible thread off your blouse or sits a little too close when you’re riding in the back of a taxi to a client meeting, you start convincing yourself that you’re overreacting. He’s probably not being that much more pushy than your other coworkers—you’re just more aware of him because you don’t know him as well.

And it doesn’t help that he’s tall, towering over you and pretty much everyone else in the office. The cheap suits he cycles through can’t quite conceal the hard lines of muscle underneath—oh, whoops. Now you’re the one crossing boundaries. Tendou is so big that you’re just…more conscious of his presence, right?

This is drilled into you one night after a marathon overtime session when you’re carrying a tall stack of boxes back to the archives. Maybe it’s because you’ve been at work for 11 hours, but the files feel like they’re filled with rocks, not paper. Your muscles are this close to giving out when Tendou appears out of nowhere to pluck the files out of your arms. “Here. Gimme, gimme, I’ll take ‘em.”

The way he carries the heavy boxes so effortlessly makes you kind of embarrassed at how much you’d struggled with them. “You’re pretty strong, hm,” you say absently. Oops, was that inappropriate? You don’t want him thinking you’re hitting on him or something.

“Oh—yeah I guess?” Tendou’s laugh (the one that used to grate on your nerves) sounds like he’s pleased with himself. “I go to the gym a lot.”

“Wish I could find the time. Or the discipline,” you reply as he replaces the file box in the archive room.

“Wow, senpai is calling me disciplined. My heart is pounding.”

His tone is sarcastic enough that you don’t think twice about the second part of his statement. “Don’t get too full of yourself. If you have the energy to go to the gym, you should spend that time double checking your expense reports before you submit them.”

“Ouch.” Tendou holds his hand over his heart in mock betrayal. “Targeting my weak points, how ruthless. But seriously, working out is second nature to me. Been doin it since I was a kid so it doesn’t take any kinda discipline.”

“Oh? Did you play sports or something?”

“Yeah…” Tendou’s voice trails off and when you pause from your task of organizing the files to look up at him, he’s staring directly at you. “…Used to play volleyball. Grade school through college.”

The way he’s looking at you, searching your face for something you can’t identify, makes you think this is more important than it seems. You tip your head to the side, waiting for him to continue.

“Our team in high school was pretty good,” he says slowly.

“That’s cool,” you say, turning back to the paperwork. “Did you ever play Shiratorizawa? They’re my old high school—I think their volleyball team went to nationals back in the day. I was never into sports though.”

A moment passes, and you frown. Did you say something wrong? But just before you’re about to change the subject, Tendou starts laughing. “Shiratorizawa? No, I don’t think I ever played them.”

Your laugh joins his a second late, although you don’t know why he thinks it’s funny in the first place. In the echo of your voices, you can hear how quiet it is in the archives. There’s something here you’re missing, but you’re not sure what.

Luckily enough, the somewhat awkward atmosphere doesn’t carry over to the next day. When you get into the office, Tendou is his usual clingy self, distracting you from your own work to ask you to teach him something and pulling you away when you’re talking to your coworkers so you can double check his emails before he sends them. If anything, he’s more attached than usual—when you go to a contract renewal negotiation with a client he insists on tagging along, so you let him after making him promise not to get in the way.

Of course he doesn’t keep his promise, but you end up appreciating his intrusion more than you could have predicted. The client is stubborn and rude until Tendou chimes in (much to your dismay, at first) with an offer to add on some oddly specific perks to the contract. You’re already practicing your apology speech to the boss in anticipation of losing the client, but to your amazement he agrees to Tendou’s terms and the deal is sealed, along with a healthy bonus for you.

You’re on cloud nine, practically skipping out of the building with Tendou at your side as you fantasize about what you’re going to do with the bonus after you split it with him. A weekend vacation out of the city? An online shopping spree? Some fancy dinners at five-star restaurants? Knowing you, the money will end up going straight to your savings, but you still can’t contain your giddiness. “How did you know he wanted that add-on? Seriously, I had no idea!”

“A guess! I’m good at reading people.” Tendou’s just as elated as you, pumping his fist and whooping like a kid as soon as you’re away from the client’s earshot. “Woohoo! Yay! Our first sale together!”

“A guess? You risked that huge contract on a guess?” You roll your eyes but you’re too excited to be mad at him. “Anyway, you don’t have to say ‘our’ first sale, I know it was all you. I’ll tell the boss you’re doing a good job.”

“No way, it’s ours! Both of us. Me and senpai.” Tendou’s hand reaches down and his fingers lace with yours, squeezing so tight his knuckles go pale.

The thrill of your success flickers as nervousness sets in. Is he holding your hand? “Tendou—“

“Senpaiiiii~” he says in sing-song, swinging your hand as you walk to meet the taxi and ignoring your meek attempts to pull away. “Didn’t I do a good job?”

“Y-Yeah. Good job, Tendou.”

Work friends. The two of you are work friends. Your boss passes all comments to Tendou through you (mostly things about how he’s good with clients and charismatic but needs to stop making minor errors on paperwork). When one of you is sick, your coworkers ask the other to pass on their good wishes. Tendou fits into his role at the office seamlessly, and you can’t say you don’t appreciate the fact that all of his good work is reflecting well on you.

So when his birthday rolls around two months after he’s hired, it’s up to you to plan the office drinking party (only after he complains to you about how he doesn’t have any friends since moving to Tokyo). You have the date you got from Facebook—May 20th—circled in red pen on your private calendar along with a little doodle of a birthday cake.

“What’s that?” asks one of your coworkers, pointing to the circle, as you flip through your agenda a week before the event.

“Tendou’s turning 23,” you tell him. “It’s a Friday, so some of us are going to go to a restaurant and drink a little. You’re coming, right?”

“Oh…yeah.” Your coworker scratches his head and clears his throat. “You guys are pretty close, huh. Um, I actually wanted to ask—you’re not together, are you?”

A chill runs up your spine. “Together? Who said that?” If this rumor gets around to your boss it’ll kill your career. These things always look worse for the woman than for the man. God, it was probably something Tendou said without thinking, he’s always talking about you and someone could easily misinterpret all that praise…

“Well, if you’re dating—“

“We’re not dating,” you say quickly. “We do a lot of work together because I’m training him, but it’s not like that.”

“Really?” Your coworker straightens and smiles. “Cause I was actually thinking of asking if you wanted to go out this weekend—“

“Senpai? Can you help me with this draft?”

Damnit, it’s Tendou getting in the way at the absolute worst time—especially considering he just had to come up behind you and put his hand on your shoulder. Seriously, how many times do you have to tell him to stop doing that when you’re talking to someone else? You’re not sure whether to be irritated at him for cutting your coworker off, concerned that the other man won’t believe what you said about you and Tendou having a strictly professional relationship, or relieved that you don’t have to give an answer to what sounds like an offer for a date.

You cast an apologetic glance at your coworker and make your way over to Tendou’s desk, hoping against hope that the interruption doesn’t look too suspicious. You’d die if word got around to your boss that you were dating your mentee.

///

You’ve got this office drinking party thing down to an art. Step one is to load up on greasy appetizers that’ll increase your alcohol tolerance, step two is to drink plenty of water, and step three is to pour yourself a single drink early and take small sips.

There’s a step four, too: make sure no one else’s glass get’s below the 1/4 mark. Your boss and coworkers are a lot less receptive to how little you’re drinking when they’re all nice and tipsy. It’s a system you’ve perfected over the years, one that allows you to have fun with people from the office without risking making an ass out of yourself or getting a hangover (which, at 25, is a lot more unpleasant than it used to be).

You can’t count the number of times you’ve witnessed the awkward drunken escapades of your fellows, which range from the endearing (your boss crying over how much he loves his wife) to the awkward (coworker makeout sessions) to the potentially criminal (bar fights. So many bar fights). You’re happy to remain a neutral observer, and tonight is no exception.

The only problem is that Tendou hasn’t yet mastered the art of drinking lightly when you’re around people you work with, so now, at the end of his party, he’s (for lack of a better word) trashed. His cheek is mashed flat to the restaurant table like it’s glued there and his head is surrounded by progressive rings of bottles and cans. It’s some kind of miracle that he hasn’t yet gone to the bathroom to get sick.

“Sorry Tendou,” you sigh. “I should have been keeping a better eye on you.” You had no idea he’d get so drunk so quickly. Aren’t tall guys supposed to have high tolerance or something?

“Sssshenpaii,” Tendou slurs, hoisting his head off the table with that looks like Herculean effort. “I liiiike when…when ya look at me…”

“Ha, ha,” you say sarcastically.

Tendou’s head whips around. “Where’d everyone go?”

“They all left—now it’s time for us to go home too. Come on, I’ll help you get to the taxi.” You pay the bill (oof, there goes your petty cash for the week) and pull on Tendou’s shirt sleeve to get him to stand up. Luckily he’s just sober enough to realize what you want him to do and he follows you out to the street with an arm draped over your shoulders to steady his meandering footsteps.

The real trouble comes when the two of you are seated comfortably in the cab and the driver asks for Tendou’s address, which, apparently, he can’t remember. You do the sensible thing and look through his phone, but his own contact card provides no hint to where he lives in Tokyo, only a phone number, email, and address in Sendai which has to be his parents’ house—

Wait.

Tendou’s from Sendai?

You’re from Sendai. You didn’t know he was too. What a coincidence that both of you moved to Tokyo from Sendai. You’ve mentioned your hometown to him a couple times—how come he never told you he’s from the same place? You’re only two years older than him; maybe you’ve run across him in Sendai before the two of you started working together.

Now that you think about it, his face has always been kind of familiar…you thought it was just ‘one of those faces’, but…?

This isn’t the time to wonder, though. You poke Tendou gently in the side, careful not to jar him enough to risk any stomach upset. “Tendou? Do you remember what street you live on?”

After a long pause Tendou names a street, but it’s your company’s address which isn’t located anywhere near a residential district. When you tell him to think harder, he grimaces, lips pulling back to bare his teeth. “Don’ wanna go home…lemme sleep over at senpai’s house.”

“What? You can’t stay at my place.”

“Why noooot? ‘m tired,” he drawls, eyes closing as his head droops onto your shoulder in the back of the cab.

“It’s—it’s inappropriate—wait, no-no-no-no don’t fall asleep,” you tell him desperately but it’s already too late. A light snore filters out of him and you curse. “Tendou—“

“Address?” the cab driver barks insistently, giving you the stink eye in the rearview mirror.

Shit. Well, it is his birthday, you have a pull-out couch, and it’s not like anyone from the office is around to see you going home together. Tomorrow morning you’ll just have to give him a lecture about professional boundaries and make him promise not to breathe a word of this to your boss.

You give your own address to the cab driver. Tendou sleeps peacefully on your shoulder throughout the entire drive, rousing only when you whisper his name in his ear outside your building (which is a miracle, because you know without a doubt that you’re not capable of carrying him). When you get up to your apartment, you deposit him on the sofa bed and tell him not to look through your stuff while you brush your teeth.

Obviously, he doesn’t listen to you. When you emerge from the bathroom, Tendou is standing in the middle of your living room and turning the pages of an old photo album of yours.

“Hey, give me that.” You try to pull it away from him, but he doesn’t let go and his grip is stronger than yours, so the album remains firmly in his hands. “If you’re sober enough to mess with my things, you should go home.”

“This is senpai, right?” Tendou says, pointing to one of the photos.

Despite your exasperation, you lean in to take a look. It’s a picture from high school with you and some friends, all of you wearing your Shiratorizawa uniforms and grinning cheekily at whoever took the picture. Your fingers are cocked up in a peace sign. “Yeah? That’s me.”

“So cute…senpai is really cute…” Tendou’s long finger trails over the edge of your face though the filmy plastic covering the photo.

“Um…you need to get to sleep,” you say nervously, pulling a little harder on the album.

He doesn’t budge, instead just flipping back in the album to older pictures from when you were little until he stops at a photo of you and your younger brother in grade school. Against your better judgement, you frown and look closer to try and pick up whatever caught his interest in this particular image.

“How old…?” he asks.

“I don’t know, 10 or 11 maybe?”

Tendou nods. “When I met senpai…you were this old, yeah.”

“Jeez, you’re really drunk. We met two months ago, remember? I was on the interview board.”

“Yeah.” Tendou’s gaze is glued to the photo. “I was so sad, ‘cause senpai doesn’t remember me. But also really happy to see you after such a long time…I thought it was a dream…”

“Hm? I don’t get it.”

Tendou finally looks up from the picture and meets your wary gaze with those wide red eyes. God, you used to think his face was so creepy—lately you find his zealousness endearing, almost childlike, but right now? It’s making your feet itch how much you want to step away from him. “I was really hoping you would remember on your own, but I guess I’ll have to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“How me an’ senpai met…”

Are you imagining it, or does his voice sound a lot less slurred than it did just 20 minutes ago? “You’re not making any sense.”

“Shh, just listen…your little brother played volleyball when you were kids, didn’t he?”

How did he know that? You nod hesitantly.

“Yeah…he was in my grade. He was a bad kid, y’know that? Always saying mean things to me.”

It’s true. Your brother’s always had a mean streak in him.

“He used to call me a monster. ‘Cause, y’know—“ Tendou taps a finger against his face. “Guess I look weird. And my name, too. So he said he didn’t wanna play with me. Demons can’t play on human teams. Every day, saying cruel things. I really hated him.”

Monster. Volleyball. Your little brother. Tendou Satori like the mind-reading spirits from folklore. Something’s coming to mind, a memory you haven’t thought about in years—no, decades.

Your little brother making fun of another kid. A tall kid with red hair in a bowl cut.

“I-I remember,” you stammer. “I came to his practice one time and you were there, right? That bowl cut kid was you. I got mad at him for calling you names and I yelled at him. That’s when we met?”

“Correct!” Tendou’s beaming like you just told him he won the lottery instead of recalling a random fifteen-year-old memory. “You made him let me play! I got to get on the court, and block him, and see his beaten face looking up at me. All because of senpai.”

You can play this off, you think to yourself. Tell him you’re sorry for how your brother treated him. Ask him why he never told you that the two of you have met before. Say something. Anything. But your mouth is too dry to let you speak.

“And, you know…” Tendou’s voice softens and a light blush dusts his cheeks. “I thought you were so cool. I couldn’t believe you were related to that jerk. Can I…tell you a secret?”

No. Deep down you know what he’s going to say, and you don’t want to hear it.

Tendou’s hand comes up to comb through your hair, gently pulling through the delicate strands next to your face and tucking them back so he can lean in and whisper into your ear (even though there’s no one else around). “I like you, senpai.”

Stop it. Stop it. Your blood feels cold in your veins.

“I’ve liked you ever since then. I used to wish we were in the same grade so I could be your friend and talk to you every day. Whenever we were in different schools I missed seeing you in the halls and hearing your voice when you spoke to other people.”

“Stop...stop talking,” you whisper, but Tendou continues like he didn’t hear you.

“Why’d you have to go all the way to Tokyo for college? In my third year at Shiratorizawa I studied for your school’s entrance exam forever, but I didn’t get in. Was too busy with volleyball, I guess.” He pauses. “Oh, by the way, I went to Shiratorizawa. I lied about that, sorry. But—seriously, d’you have any idea how hard it was for me when you were away at university? Not seeing the person I love for six years?”

Love, he said. You feel nauseous. “Tendou, you don’t—“

“Let me finish, okay senpai? You don’t know how much I’ve been through. Always having to respect your ‘personal space’—“ he frames the phrase in mocking air quotes— “when I need to touch you so bad I feel like I’m gonna explode.”

And then he’s hugging you into his chest, crushing your torso into his. You struggle and try to get him to let you go, but Tendou is so much stronger than you.

“You’re not that different from your brother after all, are you?” he hums into your hair. “You’ve been torturing me. You know how you lean over my desk when you show me something on my computer? I can…see down your shirt when you do that. And I smell your perfume. I spent two hours at the mall trying all the different perfumes so I could find the right one…thought my nose was gonna stop working! But don’t laugh—“

You’re not laughing.

“—the salesgirl looked at me funny but I got it eventually. Chance Eau Fraiche, right? I can’t believe how expensive that stuff is, what is it made of gold? It was worth it though! I saw this news article about how smelling things in your sleep can trigger memories, so I tried spraying your perfume on my pillow before I go to bed and now I get to see you at work and when I’m dreaming—”

“STOP IT!” Your slap echoes across the room with a resounding crack. You’ve never hit anyone before in your life, but your aim is good enough to leave Tendou staring with a shocked expression off to the side and a bright red mark on his face. His arms fall down from you and you back away from him, clutching your hand to your chest. “You need to get out. You’re drunk and you’re not thinking clearly. We...we can talk about this tomorrow, but right now you have to go.”

Your heart is beating like hummingbird wings, sending a flush up to your face that you know is visible. Tendou ghosts his hand over his cheek and is quiet for a long moment. “I wanted to do this the right way,” he says finally.

“What?”

“I tried. But you’re so obsessed with professionalism. You refused to see me like that,” he sighs. “You’re too responsible. Although it’s one of the things I like about you.”

“Please listen to me...” The psychological anxiety of this revelation is stirring up a primal fight or flight instinct, and you start backing up.

“I really wanted to treat you gently. You deserve to be treated well…”

“Tendou, wait.” How far are you from your bedroom? You don’t want to resort to hiding from him, but you’d feel a lot better with a locked door between you and him.

“…but senpai, I’ve waited so long. And it’s my birthday.”

Your hands scrabble for the doorknob, only—oh. He’s not just stronger than you, he’s faster too.

➠ [Part 2]

[high-supernatural]

Secrets pt.2

Kai Parker x Female Reader/Character

Word Count: 2197

Warnings: typical tvd themes, mean Kai, they kiss at the end ;);)

Summary: Kai merged with Luke and started feeling different soon after. He got sick and the reader took care of him, throwing him into a fit of confusion. She doesn’t judge him for anything and has the understanding that he’s a product of his environment and acts out of revenge and distrust of others. Kai knows this after having a conversation with her and decides to find out all of her secrets too.

***since y’all like the one shots better than the series, I’m gonna write one shots for female readers under the name V for what I would’ve/will write in the series***

V felt even more like she was losing him now. When he went to get Jo’s magic, she went into the woods, her safe space, and begged to have her old world back, no matter how terrible it was, she wasn’t alone, she had a team, a family.

She was out there for hours and went back after the sun had gone down, silently hoping Kai wasn’t in the room. He was.

She opened the door and saw him sitting on a chair he had pulled between the coffee table and the couch. She closed the door with her back facing him and walked to the bathroom while taking her sweatshirt off, wearing a tank top underneath.

Kai grabbed her wrist as she walked past trying to avoid him, “someone’s had a rough night,” he said looking at her red eyes.

“And someone’s suddenly all better,” she looked at him expressionless.

He let go and looked away, “yeah… well…” he looked at the book he had in his hands, “turned out I wasn’t really sick, I just needed Jo’s magic and had Luke’s,” he looked back at her, still expressionless.

“Well, congrats, you can go back to being an even bigger dick now,” she was about to walk to the bathroom when she saw what he was holding.

“Why are you holding my journal?” she asked.

“Well…” he completed his coined dramatic pause, “I figured since you know all my secrets I should know yours,” she just stared at him so he kept talking, “SO, I got to reading, then I thought to myself, ‘self, this is way too personal to be reading alone, you should read it with her’, and so, here we are,” he smiled.

She didn’t see any malicious energies behind what he said, but still she asked, “what kind of game is this, Kai?”

“No games,” he said childishly, “have a seat,” he motioned at the couch.

She sat with her knees to her side, staring at him, waiting for him to start attacking her with everything she has in her journal.

“Let’s begin,” he said.

He crossed one of his legs over the other and flipped the book open, clearing his throat, “2007, age 10,” he read, “the last time I went to the prison world,” he stopped to look at her, “man you’re really obsessed with me,” he said with a smirk.

“Mhm, keep reading,” she raised an eyebrow.

“2007, 11th birthday, page 12,” he gasped in sarcasm, “what’s on page 12?” he flipped to the page and read, “I was at school, I didn’t want to go to school this day, it felt different. It felt like danger. I remember begging my parents not to make me go, but they did anyways, assuming I wanted to ditch on my birthday,” he paused to say, “those assholes,” before continuing, “I convinced Audrey and Kai to ditch with me into the basement right before we heard screams. We hid behind the vents behind a tall shelf and covered our ears when we heard the first bomb. The school crumbled onto us, but we couldn’t move. I remember begging in my mind that nobody would find us, I felt like they were here for us,” he paused again, “paranoid much?” and continued, “a group of people came into the basement calling my name, but I wasn’t going to say anything,” he looked up again, “hm, maybe not so paranoid,” and went on. “They got angry when they couldn’t find me and set the basement on fire before leaving. We almost couldn’t make it out after they left, but then I heard my dad calling for me.”

Kai flipped back to the original page he came from and looked at her, “that was tragic,” she kept staring at him, saying nothing.

“aaaand not so long after, ‘2007, 1 week after the first attack,’” he read and flipped to the page numbered beside it.

“Me, Audrey, Kai, and my parents made it to the western coast of Europe to find a boat. We traveled from Lyon to the coast of the Celtic Sea,” Kai paused again to say “I didn’t know that’s where you were from,” and chuckled before returning, “learning how to hijack cars on the way. We saw nobody the whole way. When we did, they were dead, or a monster. We didn’t know what happened yet. Everything was destroyed and I felt nothing. I went into survivor mode. We stole a boat to head towards America… we made it halfway before the waters got rough. The boat started filling with water until it was fully under. Everybody got onto a lifeboat except me, I was under the water. They started going without me until Audrey jumped and saved me. That’s when we made our deal.”

Kai gasped again, “is that why you don’t like the ocean?” he smiled through his next words and chuckled, “it is, isn’t it?” flipping back to the other page.

“You having fun yet?” V asked.

He ignored her, “what was the deal with Audrey?” he asked, “maybe it’s on this page,”

“Page 24,” she told him, “The good stuff you’re looking for is on page 24.”

Kai read again, “age 15,” he stopped again, “no dates this time, weird,” he continued, “we made it to America just days before it was attacked. We had enough time to find the community of hunters we came here for, barely. Angels were taking over. The biblical apocalypse. I don’t know what to believe anymore. My dad turned into one of those murderous vamps and we had to let him go. When we were captured my mom was killed. Me and Audrey made it out of captivity, I don’t know where Kai is anymore,” he trailed his next words, “he was with us when we were caught, he was with us through captivity, but he started to change. I woke up one morning and he wasn’t in his cell next to us. I never saw him again. I want to believe he’s dead but I know he’s somewhere far worse. It’s just me and Audrey now. We have the community but it’s thinning.”

V looked at her hands and back at Kai, “there’s letters I wrote him even though I knew I’d probably never find him in the back if you want to read those too,” she said softly.

Kai closed the book slowly and put it on the table between them, “I’m good, I think I have enough to figure you out now too.”

V put her feet on the ground, “cool, can I go now,” she rolled her eyes and didn’t give him time to answer before going into the bathroom to turn on the shower.

Kai leaned against the door and heard soft sobs and couldn’t help but feel a little bad about how he went about this.

When she came out of the bathroom Kai was leaning against the wall outside of it. She took a step back and waited for him to talk, “I need to run to the gas station, come with me?” he asked.

“I don’t want to,” she responded softly. He gave her a pouty face and she ended up going anyways.

They walked to the gas station to get snacks and drinks before Kai sat at the bus stop bench, “what are you doing now?” V asked annoyed.

“I want to talk to you,”

“You talk enough, constantly,” she responded. Kai just sat smirking at her, so she sighed and sat down next him, looking in another direction.

A moment of silence went by before he spoke, “I don’t know how to talk to you, V,” he gently placed his fingers on her upper arm prompting her to snap her head and look him up and down as her reflex response.

“That’s crazy because you’re always talking,” she snapped.

He took his hand away. “I think I care about you, but I don’t know how to talk to you, and I only have a few things I want to say,” he looked into the distance, and she looked at him, “just say them,” she said.

She looked into his eyes when he spoke, “I’ve done some… really bad things. Some I won’t even admit. But they haunt me, eat at me, and I can’t get rid of them. I killed my family, kids too. And it got me locked away for 18 years. I came back and killed more of them, I didn’t learn anything from being there,” she still looked at him, listening, when he looked away to finish.

“There’s times I’m afraid I’m gonna kill you too. Or anybody, really. It’s not a revenge kick. I slept on the couch because I woke up with my hand on your throat and I thought about it for a split second. My entire life I’ve been the freak, feigning for hits of magic like a kid on drugs. I became the coven leader, and nothing really changed,” he stopped and looked at his hands before continuing.

“Except now I can feel things and I don’t know how to process. I remember everything I’ve done and I know it was wrong, but part of me still doesn’t care,” he sniffed and looked the other way to avoid tears before looking back down, “everything I’ve done in my life has been the wrong thing. I don’t know how to do the right thing. When I was in that prison world there were times I’d try to end it multiple times a day, now that I’m here I think about it a lot because I know it’d work this time. I’m not a good person, V, I never have been, someone like you shouldn’t be around me.”

“Look at me,” she spoke, “your family sucked, not you,” she moved his face to look at her with her finger, “they isolated you because you were different and they didn’t understand, that’s not on you. They beat you, didn’t let you touch or come near anybody, treated you different, and over time you turned yourself into somebody they thought you were. You tried being who you were, but everybody around you acted like you were different, so that’s who you became.”

“How do you know all this” he whispered.

“When I look at you I can see past the things not even you can see in yourself. I can see who you really are in that deep place, and I can see who your family made you out to be on the outside. You’re not evil, Kai.”

“You know what I’ve done, V—” he interrupted.

“I know what you’ve done, and I know your motives behind it. I still think what you’ve done says more about your family than it does you, because that’s who they built. I see you on the outside and see something they built in their image. Underneath that I see revenge, hatred, and an aimed vengeance. Deeper I see someone who wants to let it go but can’t because they hurt every aspect of your being. But deeper I see that you just hurt, all the time, and it doesn’t stop, and I get it, you’re confused a lot.”

There was a long pause, Kai looked away and V looked at him still.

She sighed and scooted closer to him, “you aren’t evil. Not only can I see that, but you prove it. A real psycho wouldn’t have had the conscious to sleep on the couch or talk to me about anything. If you were really a psycho with no feelings, I’d either be dead or you wouldn’t be here because you’d break the pact,” she grabbed his hand and he looked at her again.

“Get it through your head this time,” she spoke soft, “you aren’t evil. I’ve seen enough evil to see it a mile away and I wouldn’t want you that far away from me.”

She interlocked their fingers as they looked at each other. Kai had an expression on his face that told her he wanted to close the space between them but part of him didn’t believe what she was saying, he was scared and frustrated with himself.

She took her hand away to wrap her arms around his neck, bending her knees up onto the bus stop bench to her side and got closer to his face, “believe me,” she whispered before laying her lips on his.

He placed a hand on her waist and the other on her knee, giving into the kiss.

They moved their lips together for what felt like minutes but was only a few seconds before V pulled away with her arms still around him, “do you believe me then,” she asked.

“If I say no, will you kiss me again?” Kai said almost speechless.

V pulled him into another, more passionate kiss, rubbing her thumb through his hair as his hand made its way up to hers, placing the hand that was on her knee behind her, pulling her deeper.

She opened her eyes slowly, “we should head back,”

“If you promise you’ll do that again, okay,”

“Pinky swear.”

[gallavichthings]

I’m a bit late this week, but I have the pleasure of sharing the lovely conversation I had with @annansmith​ (here’s her AO3). She’s somewhat new to the fandom, but her stories get a lot of love. Some of them are My Whiskey Smells of Oranges, Moonlight Sonata and Just My Type of Thug.

GT: First of all, how can we call you and what are your pronouns?

A: Please call me Anna. Her/She.

GT: You use your real name as a username? That's unusual.

A: Anna is not actually my real name. It's part of it though. In fact all parts of my username are derived from my actual name. but it's still obscure enough that hopefully none of my real life acquaintances will ever notice should they stumble over my fics. Though if they were browsing through the gallavich tag, they'd be secretly people after my own heart. So wouldn't that be lovely?

GT: Alright, nice to meet you, Anna! Please tell us a bit about yourself.

A: What can I tell you about myself? I'm turning 29 soon-ish and not quite ready for my last year in my twenties. Though I've heard the 30s is where it's all about now, so I'm also looking forward to it. I'm from Germany, born in Berlin, but living close to Frankfurt for many years now. I work in the video game industry and have been stuck in home office throughout the past year like many others. I gotta say though, I'm a fairly patient person and I was able to take a lot of positives from this quarantine experience, specifically I got back into writing which is probably the reason why I'm still sane. Other than that, maybe to paint a better picture for you, I'm half Filipina, so I got a bit of an exotic look. I like making people laugh. And I hate exercising. There, some of the random bits that describe me.

GT: That's all very interesting, actually! Thank you for sharing. Do you have any real life friends who are fans of Gallavich or Shameless too?

A: I got into Shameless actually because of my best friend! She's been watching Shameless for a couple of years I think and last year after lockdown started I decided to binge Shameless and like always I overtook her and am further ahead than she is now. She likes gallavich, but she is definitely not obsessed like me. So I have to rein in my enthusiasm when I talk to her about it as to not sound like a crazy person to the normals out there.

GT: Hahaha, I totally understand that! What attracted you to Gallavich? What do you think it's the best thing about the ship ?

A: After being first introduced to Ian and the fact that he's gay, I kept telling myself "keep chill, you're not gonna obsess over yet another gay couple!". So in the beginning when the idea of that couple started being portrayed, I was trying not to get sucked in. Actually I really loved the overall Shameless show, so I wanted to watch it "normally" and not concentrate so much on Ian/Mickey. That resolution came crumbling down by the end of s3 I believe when we saw the hard-ass thug sniff and cry after Ian said good-bye to him. I think what I love the most about this couple is that their love is so pure and so beautiful in its essence that when you see it in juxtaposition to their gritty environment, to the truly ugly and awful that is being constantly thrown at them, it just pulls on your heartstrings. Their love couldn't be stamped out, even at times when they both tried to let go, because their love was just purely good at its core and so real that nothing could snuff it out. Also I love how rough and tough kinda guys they are, but are so soft for each other. I've truly lost my heart to this ship.

GT: The things they had to overcome, it's really an amazing love story when you think about it. It's impossible not to root for them when you see that they really care for each other, despite all the odds.

Why another gay couple though? What are your other gay ships?

A: I had just come from the Teen Wolf fandom. They weren't canon but I shipped Sterek. I wrote a couple Suits fanfic too (also another non-canon couple). I watched Shadowhunters and on there was a gay ship as well. And well my favorite show is Sense8 which is basically a multi-ship gay lovefest. I don't exclusively ship gay couples, but it's evidently a trend.

GT: Did you write fics for all these fandoms or just Suits?

A: Suits and Teen Wolf.

GT: And what made you want to write for Shameless too?

A: I started writing after s10 and I guess I felt the need to fill in some blanks for me. After the break-up, the years apart, and the border good-bye, I felt like so many things were left unresolved. S10 immediately started off as them bickering and Ian wanting a break. I needed to get a little bit more from Ian in terms of how he felt about Mickey being back in his life, how he envisioned his future, how it included Mickey, how serious it was, etc. What about the reason for their break-up? Are they just not talking about it? Does it not matter anymore? We knew how Mickey felt. He had thrown himself back into prison for a failed relationship, had given up his freedom for Ian. I needed a bit more insight into how Ian felt about all of this. Throughout s10 we didn't get much in my opinion and even with the promise ring debacle, his concerns were just slightly thrown out there and never really worked through. It wasn't enough for me and I guess that's how the desire to write something to fill in the blanks arose. Starting from my first bigger fic, I really enjoyed engaging with the fandom. I was usually always the silently lurking fan type. Maybe checking out what was going on in the fandom, but staying under the radar mostly, not talking to anybody. I really came out of my shell here in this fandom! It's a really lovely size with great people!

GT: Awn, that's so nice. You've made some friends in the fandom, haven't you?

A: I made one very good and special friend. I am positive a lifetime friend! And beyond that I have been talking to others here and there, commenting on posts, leaving more fic comments, that kind of fandom engagement. Which is about a hundred percent more than I did before.

GT: That is the best thing about fandoms, in my opinion. I'm glad you had this experience.

What's the best thing about writing Ian and Mickey?

A: Writing in character is important to me, whether I hit that mark or not I leave up to my readers, and I love how much range we're given with these characters. Over the many years we've seen how they react and behave in various different situations. We know what they like and what they dislike, canon contradictions aside. We have a lot of history we can draw from. I especially love how we can go from absolutely deep rooted internalized homophobia to incredible love declarations. Because it's happened! It's not unrealistic at all. We can write them so soft at times and be incredibly self-sacrificing without making them seem OOC. I think that is what I love most about them. In my recent behemoth of a fic My Whiskey Smells of Oranges they meet in a canon divergent beginning set in a soulmate universe and in this slow-burn they have all these moments pinging from trauma and hurt to absolute love and comfort, equally as intense. And I enjoyed having these incredibly tender and loving moments, those big love confessions after the many hardships they had to face together without it, hopefully, feeling out of character.

Also, I prefer writing established relationship mixed in with a healthy dose of comedy and those two have a chaotic energy to them, I absolutely love it.

GT: Is that the kind of fics you write the most, established relationship?

A: Yes, definitely! I love domestic bliss, writing in all these sweet little romantic moments. But still keeping their rough edges. Showcasing their chemistry and why they work so well as a couple... It's my favorite. And if I can make the reader also laugh at the same time, it's the best!

GT: Is that your favorite to read as well?

A: Hmm good question. Tentatively, I would say yes. I prefer reading canon compliant stories for gallavich and since they are together for most of their history, it's established relationship by default. I haven't come across that many comedy fics I think. But for sure there are a lot of soft ones out there. I don't mind reading a getting together or back together fic though. As long as the pacing and the characterization is right.

GT: Which fics do you avoid then?

A: I feel like a lot. This is not a statement on the offer this fandom has. It is about what I am not in the mood for reading. As I said I prefer canon compliant which excludes a whole bunch of fics that live in the AU realm. I have a few AUs I'm up for, such as organized crime and soulmates, but mostly I can't get behind a too strongly divergent background story for them. Especially when the motivation behind writing a certain AU is more about writing that trope than it is writing about Ian and Mickey in that trope. That's where characterization comes into play again. It is definitely a challenge to combine these. A challenge which I myself also struggle with when writing AU. The fics that I cannot get into whatsoever are with Svetlana and Yevgeny. The way the canon storyline was handled just hits a nerve with me that makes me unable to read those fics.

GT: Fair enough.

What are some challenges of writing them?

A: I'd say one of my personal biggest weaknesses is diving into characters' introspective emotional states. Or at least writing extensively about it. I do it enough where it is necessary and where pacing demands it, but there are so many wonderful fics out there who give you a beautiful introspective in-depth look into how the boys are feeling from the very first word to the last word and I admire that, maybe especially so because I can only do short bursts throughout the story.

GT: I am the exact same, so I totally understand what you're talking about.

What are your other favorite characters from the show? Do you include them in your fics?

A: I'm glad I'm not the only one struggling with this!

Fiona and Carl hands down I'd say. Most of my fics are post s9 and, therefore, are lacking Fiona, so when I was able to write Fiona in for the first time I got so giddy! I loved early seasons Fiona. She was my favorite character back then. And Carl is just a really funny character to write. In recent seasons he's become a favorite of mine. I also like writing the dynamic between Ian/Mickey and Liam/Franny. I'm not ready yet for Ian and Mickey to have kids, but taking care of the youngest I really enjoy writing in!

GT: Do you have your own OCs?

A: Yes. In My Whiskey Smells of Oranges I have created, in my eyes, a delightful school principal for my story. He's sort of functioned as the secret guardian fairytale grandmother to Mickey and if I had it in me, I would have loved to add a little oneshot of his POV to my story. I'm also working on a mafia AU, I say that but it's on ice for the time being, and that one is written from an outside POV. That OC is having a bit of a culture shock witnessing Ian and Mickey's unique dynamic. I love how we get to showcase the crazy that comes with the Gallaghers through outside POV.

GT: How do you come up with your OCs then? Do you base them on real people?

A: From a physical appearance standpoint, yes. I often tend to picture an actor I know from another show for my OCs. But they are never based on people I know. Actually, there doesn't go much forethought into my OCs now that I think about it. They usually fit to what I need them to be in my story. Now that you ask I feel like I should put more thought into it? Haha, well, maybe next time.

GT: Hahah, sorry, didn't mean to make you second guess yourself.

Tell me about your writing process then.

A: No worries, I love talking about writing with others! Which leads me to your next question. My so called writing process is a bit of a mess. My muse is very moody, an entitled little thing really... So first I would have an idea I like and can't shake. Then I would daydream a fair amount about it. Once there are a few scenes in my head I really like, I would write something resembling an outline down. Which looks worse than Swiss cheese. Sometimes it would say: family dinner - Ian out of job ---> Freddie blue paint ---> slow dance under moonlight ---> smut ---> bank robbery??

Somehow that equals my preparation and after providing a fair amount of offerings to my muse, setting mood fitting music in the background, and staring at a blank document for hours, I painstakingly try to write down my first few sentences which I always hate. After days of mini existential life crises and self-pity have passed, I dust myself off and keep on writing. At a certain point I will have gotten into it and it's a bit easier to keep at it. I usually fill out these poorly outlined scenes in the moment when I write them. I write other scenes in so I land where I want to end up. It works for some reason. I get really into these spontaneous ideas that make my story come to life. But I do wish I could just outline my story to its last detail. It's just I don't think I would ever start writing, if I had to come up with every scene immediately. When I write and let spontaneous ideas take me through the story, let characters show me how they would deal with a certain plotline, it usually worked really well for me. I guess every writer is different and you just gotta go with what works for you!

I have to write everything down first though, since I don't have everything planned out which is why I need to go back at times to rewrite something. I also lay out bread crumbs throughout the story and I want to make sure it's coherent at the end. So I am not usually a posting chapter by chapter author. I actually like giving my readers the full experience at once. I like to read about their impressions after they've read everything, when it all came together to paint that one big picture for them.

GT: Lol this made me laugh

Where do you usually find inspiration for your fics?

A: Usually from canon. I thought about this before and I noticed nowadays we are so used to binge watching a show that the individual episodes don't sit with me anymore. Having to wait week by week for the last Shameless season really gave me the opportunity to ruminate about the characters' motivation and reasoning. Trying to fill in blanks. Imagining ways to fix certain plotlines. It was really great and I even wrote two oneshots between the episodes. I'm going to really miss that. Especially having to sit with an episode together with the fandom, wondering how the heck to interpret what happened. I'm less inclined to pick something up from past episodes when the moment has already passed. Other than that I really enjoy my talks with @livinginsunnyhell​. We have probably already written entire theses on gallavich and I really cherish those long winded discussions. She's definitely another inspiration to my writing.

GT: Awn, I'm sure she'll enjoy knowing that.

What did you think of the finale?

A: I actually liked it. I wasn't a fan of the pacing, that one gallavich furniture scene, Debbie's weirdo gf, and that floating chair bit, but all in all I liked the open-endedness of it. I love that we have always accompanied this show, these characters over the years as a slice of life type of story. We got to witness their lives through a certain period of time. But they had their moments before the pilot and they will have their crazy rest of their lives after the finale. I like how they will simply continue how we've always accompanied them. Also I'm a terrible emotional mess after I've stuck with a very long story and got attached to the characters. So for me that really made it easier to let go. It's not over, they continue on. And we get to write fanfic about it!

GT: Exactly! It's our world now. 😁

What do you headcanon for Ian and Mickey after the finale?

A: First of all, they'll never break up. They'll get Bazooka the dog and live on the West Side for a bit. They will make a decent amount of money with their business until these knuckleheads realize they can't keep driving around a stolen ambulance modified to hold a bunch of heavy weaponry in it. Maybe a close call will make them look for an alternative job. Still working for themselves and together, but legal now. They might move back to the South Side, buy a little house, and years down the road they will start taking care of a kid that kinda fell in their lap. But in five years earliest! I want them to live solely for each other for now. I think they are not ready yet to be parents. For now let them focus on each other, get their irresponsible craziness out of their systems (to a degree), and cement their relationship even more. I want them to bask in their love for each other and their married life a bit more, before they split their attention between that and kids. In between a lot of crazy shit will happen par for the course, but they are solid and they will conquer everything!

GT: Sounds lovely.

What's your favorite Shameless season?

A: Since I like established relationship and the domestic bliss that comes with it, I'm gonna go with s11. Ian has come into the role as husband so beautifully. I adored him! We got a lot of sweet moments. Of course I don't like everything about the season, but when did I ever with Shameless? But a very close second is s4. I got so hooked on gallavich back then. It was such a great season! Judging from an overall perspective though, I loved the first three seasons of Shameless. I loved how it was all about that family unity in the beginning. How these six siblings tried to make ends meet together with Fiona at the helm. It warmed my heart and I wish we had kept a little more to that theme in later seasons.

GT: Yes, I think they lost that unity along the way. I have the feeling they were so worried about owing up to their name and having shameless plots that were more and more bizarre that they didn't realize that was not what people enjoyed more about their show.

A: Yes, I wondered about that. Did people watch the show for the bizarre stories or for the characters and their family bond? The latter came first to me.

GT: What about a favorite episode?

A: Favorite episode, that is so hard! Gallavich had so many great moments. I'm going with 11x06. I loved Mickey working through some of his past demons there. I loved how Ian was by his side and knew exactly how to be there for him. I absolutely loved loved that talk on the couch.

Seeing them finally happy and there for each other is heart-warming.

GT: If you could go back and change one thing in canon, what would it be?

A: The moment in 5x12 where Ian simply strolls back into the house while the guy he loved gets chased down the street and shot at. Not gonna lie, dark times, dark dark times...

GT: Agreed. Out of your own fics, which one are you the proudest of?

A: It's between Moonlight Sonata and My Whiskey Smells of Oranges. Moonlight Sonata is a post s10 fic very much in line with my usual writing style. It's a fic in which Ian figures out for himself what it means to be a husband. It has a lot of light-hearted, sweet moments and many funny bits in it. There are a couple dashes of angst, but mostly it's a tender fic. The feedback has been great and it's just a sweet fic I think very fondly of.

Whiskey couldn't be more different. It's a friends to lovers slow burn with a heavy amount of hurt/comfort. Writing it was far out of my comfort zone. It's 169k and the longest thing I ever wrote. I never thought I'd be able to write such a monster. The journey I sent those boys on though, it was so heartbreaking and heartwarming. I wanted to showcase that no matter how these two met, they were always meant for each other. Unlike canon they start off as friends and study partners, but they gradually build that same deeply tied connection with each other and while as teenagers they don't have much to give, they give everything to each other. Having been able to explore that kind of wholesome, devoted love between them, has just been very special to me. That fic helped me embrace the parts I tended to think I was weak at and it made me a better writer for sure.

GT: You mentioned the feedback had been great. What kind of comments are you favorite to get?

A: I love the ones that seem to come from an emotional state in the moment it was written. When someone tells you they are so emotional right now, having laughed and cried along with your story, those are really precious. And I really cherish those who comment on things you didn't think the readers would necessarily pick up on, on parts of your story that you might have agonized over for a long time and they validate your efforts by noticing.

GT: What are some of your favorite fics and/or writers in the fandom?

A: I feel like I am repeating myself about this, I already shared my favorite fic recs in the past a couple of times, but I can't help still liking those the best. I absolutely adore @captainjowl​'s fics! Wish she would write more (hint hint). My canon compliant heart goes to @livinginsunnyhell​ (ao3: ProstheticLoVe). I really loved You make me feel human by Dragona. Also a fan of ColdReign and IanRightsOnly!

GT: Hahah, I'll pass the message along lol. 

Ok, finally, tell us about your next fic projects. Do you have anything planned?

A: I just started writing on a Moonlight Sonata sequel which will continue where MS left off, only this time it's going to be about Mickey trying to figure out what kind of husband he wants and needs to be for Ian, including all the series typical shenanigans and love confessions. I am also tackling a season 12 fic which is more gen than gallavich focused. If I can get my muse behind it, it will be in the Shameless typical twelve episode format. I hope I will finish the mafia AU fic soon and lastly I am working on a PWP series, because I feel like we have way too little smut in our fandom!

GT: I love that you're writing a S12 Gen fic!

That's all, thank you so much for participating. A final message?

A: Thank you for having me! It's lovely that you're doing this and I hope we can keep the fandom engaged with fun activities such as this even after the show has come to an end now. I want to encourage all the artists, writers, bloggers, and all the fans to keep the gallavich content coming and circulating! I know first hand it's not always easy to put your art out there, so I really hope we can be as supportive and positive toward all the content creators out there! We do this for free and for everyone to enjoy! We know our works might not be perfect, we know it might not be to everyone's taste, but it's a ton of fun expressing ourselves and sharing it with you! So let's stay kind and encouraging and remember there is always a real human being behind a gif set, a meta, or a 10k fic.

GT: You said it all. Thank you again ❤️

[spencers-renaissance]

100

Summary: Spencer's an academic researcher who spends every morning at his local library. Derek just happens to drop by one Tuesday and ask the pretty boy in the classics section if he can help him find a book. Sparks fly.

Tags: library au, shy spencer, tooth-rotting fluff, flirting, coming out, spencer does not work at the bau

Pairing: Morgan x Reid

Word Count: 2.1k

Read on AO3

Spencer’s working in his favourite corner of the library by 7.35am, stuck straight into his latest research paper while Katherine bustles quietly around the bookshelves, tidying and re-ordering as much as possible before the rush of people pour through the door. She’s probably his favourite opener. She’s calm and efficient and smiles warmly at him but doesn’t engage him in pointless conversation that distracts him from his work, although that’s not to say they haven’t had a few chats here and there. It’s a quiet moment of companionable solitude; the perfect environment for a productive early morning. 

He’s vaguely aware of a gradual increase in patrons, the ambient noise level rising ever so slightly as he pours over copies of an obscure ancient philosophical text he’d obtained from the local museum, annotating furiously as he scrunches his brow in concentration. It’s sucked him in enough that he nearly jumps out of his skin when he’s tapped on the shoulder, whirling around to face probably the most attractive man he’s ever met. Immediately, he flushes red, half from the embarrassment of over-reacting, half from the intensity of the urge to jump this man’s bones. 

“Hi, I’m sorry I made you jump,” the man chuckles, taking a step back to give him a bit of space. “I can’t find any librarians around and I noticed the philosophy textbook you have on your desk and thought you might be able to help me…” He trails off looking a bit awkward and uncomfortable, clearly out of his element. 

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Spencer says, a little intimidated but still very eager to spend any amount of time with the Greek god he’s just so happened to encounter on a random Tuesday morning. 

“You will?” the man asks, smiling. “Great. Basically my best friend went to an intro to philosophy class at the local community college, one of her many whimsical new projects, and is now obsessed. I was told in no uncertain terms to pick up as many books on the subject as I could before work this morning.” 

“Wow,” Spencer breathes a laugh, raising his eyebrows slightly. “Well, I don’t blame her, philosophy is a great subject. I’m working on my fourth PhD in it now, actually.” 

“What, you have four PhDs in philosophy?” he asks incredulously. 

“No, no,” Spencer smiles, looking down shyly. “My other three are in chemistry, maths, and engineering. This is my first in philosophy. Sorry that was misleading.”

“Looks like I asked the right person, then,” he grins. “I’m Derek.”

“Spencer,” he replies, blushing at the warm look Derek is sending his way. “We’re actually in the classics section, this is just my favourite corner. The philosophy texts are over here.”

He leads the way through the maze of bookshelves, arriving at the little alcove that houses the philosophy and psychology books. With a vague idea of what Derek is looking for, he dives straight into the shelves, combing through the spines until he finds a few options for his friend. “She should probably start with this one: Big Ideas Simply Explained and then move on to Think, which is one of my favourites. This one, How Philosophy Works, will be best if she’s a visual learner instead, and if you want something a bit more complicated, try Philosophy Made Slightly Less Difficult.” He piles on a few extra as he looks around for any he missed before turning around and gesturing that he’s done. 

“This is… amazing, thank you,” Derek says gratefully. “I don’t even know why she chose philosophy, it’s a bit random for a computer nerd, isn’t it?”

“Actually about 0.58% of all US college students graduate with a philosophy degree, so it’s not as uncommon as people may think. It’s the 89th most popular major according to last year’s data, but I don’t know the statistics for people with computer science degrees or careers learning about philosophy in an official or unofficial capacity, I’m afraid,” Spencer explains, hands moving expressively as he reels off his statistics. 

The mildly impressed expression that’s been pretty permanently painted on Derek’s face the whole time he’s been speaking with Spencer intensifies as he listens intently to his statistics. “Damn, pretty boy, you really know your stuff,” he marvels, eyes wide. “You some sort of genius or something?”

Spencer blushes furiously at that, ducking his head slightly. “Well, I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified, but I do have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words per minute.”

Derek just stares at him.

“So, yeah, I guess I’m a genius?” he says bashfully.

“No, that 100% qualifies for genius status,” Derek asserts confidently. “Not that I have any sort of qualification to rule on the matter, but in my eyes you are definitely a genius.”

“Thank you,” Spencer murmurs, blush somehow deepening at the unexpected praise from the man who will now occupy his dreams. “You seem pretty smart, too, though. What do you do?”

“I’m an FBI agent.”

Damn it. As if he couldn’t get any sexier. “Wow, that’s… impressive,” Spencer remarks. “Does your friend work there, too?”

“Yeah, she’s our technical analyst,” Derek explains, smiling fondly. “She’s amazing, you’d love her.”

“Well we’ve already got one shared interest,” Spencer points out, gesturing to the books piled high in Derek’s arms. Spencer would’ve collapsed by now, but he’s barely flinching under the weight of seven bulky philosophy texts. 

“That’s true,” Derek grins. “Speaking of work, though, pretty boy, I have to run, I’m already late. Thank you so much for your help, though.”

“No problem,” Spencer says softly, definitely not mournfully, as he watches Derek walk away to the check-out desk where Katherine smiles at him as he scans the books through, sending a discreet wink over at Spencer. He glares back jokingly before walking back over to his desk.

He continues working but he can’t help but feel emptiness sinking heavy in his stomach, the kind of a missed opportunity, of almost, of could have been. Immanuel Kant still gets his attention, but he’d be lying if he said that a decent portion of it wasn’t focused on hoping, praying that his path crosses with Derek again, that he’s not replaying every moment over and over in his mind.

⭐️

Derek is very late. He rushes into the briefing room where Penelope is already explaining the case to the team. Rolling his eyes at her pointed look, he dumps the books down on the table in front of her. “Don’t blame me, baby girl, doing your chores is what made me late,” he protests, taking a seat next to Emily. 

“Well, maybe you should have been quicker,” Penelope quips, before promptly moving on with the case at Hotch’s pointed glare. 

He barely has a moment to think about anything but double homicide until they’re mid-flight and the debriefing is finally over. Moving to the back of the plane, he looks out the window as he plays over the morning’s trip to the library. Spencer might just be the prettiest boy he’s ever met, and making him blush is probably the most fun he’s had all week. Bonus points for intelligence, of course, even after spending just a few minutes with him, he could confidently say he was a walking encyclopedia. 

On the drive from the library to Quantico, he’d thought about finding some ruse to go back the next day. Spencer seemed as though he knew the library well, like he spent a lot of time there. Maybe he could go back and actually ask for his number this time; he was gonna take that boy out on a date if it’s the last thing he does. Now, though, that’s going to have to wait.

“Alright,” Emily sighs, flopping into the seat opposite him and dragging him out of his head, “what’s going on with you?” 

“What do you mean?” Derek asks reflexively, feeling a little defensive. 

“Well you were late this morning, not unusual, but you’re not listening to music and instead choosing to stare pensively out the window. Plus, you barely had anything to contribute during debriefing,” she explains, raising an eyebrow. 

“Drop it,” he says, sending her a look, but it’s teasing and light-hearted.

“Oh my God, there’s a girl,” she gasps. “And not just any girl, you like her!”

“There absolutely is not,” he says truthfully, raising an eyebrow. He’s not exactly out to the team, not out of fear of how they’ll react but more because he finds coming out awkward and he’s never found the right time, really. 

“Suit yourself,” Emily teases, pulling out her phone to play online scrabble.

Derek just scoffs and looks out the window again, definitely not letting his thoughts wander back to Spencer. Definitely not. 

⭐️

Spencer walks into the library the following Monday with low expectations. He’d thought that Derek might come back in last week, if not to see him then maybe to return his friend’s books or find more for her, but his wish had been unsuccessful. Accepting that it was a chance encounter that would ultimately go nowhere, and reminding himself that Spencer Reid’s life was decidedly not like the movies, he unpacks his papers from his messenger bag in his favourite corner again and gets back to work. He’s over the moon with the headway he’s making on his paper, and he settles in for another productive morning of work. 

Just like last time, Derek creeps up on him while he’s completely in the zone, slipping into the seat opposite him, but at least Spencer doesn’t jump this time. No, he just feels his face immediately brighten, looking far too excited to see a near-stranger again. 

“Good morning, pretty boy,” he grins, laughing fondly at Spencer’s reaction. 

“Derek, you came back,” he says happily, putting down his pen. 

“Yeah, I had a case immediately after I came to the library last Tuesday and it was a tough one. We only wrapped it up yesterday so I have today off, a rare luxury,” he explains, and Spencer tries not to read into it too much, tries not to think that Derek is saying he would’ve come back sooner if he could, tries to take him at face value. 

“The exciting life of an FBI agent.”

“Not as glamorous as the movies,” Derek agrees.

“I’m, uh- glad you came back,” Spencer admits shyly, afraid of coming on too strong.

“Well, would you like to get dinner sometime?” Derek asks.

“Really?” Spencer asks, looking up at Derek with shock written across his face.

“Of course,” Derek chuckles. “I mean, I love Penelope, but if she wants more philosophy books she can get them herself. I came back to see you.” 

“You did?” Spencer’s still a little floored by Derek’s words, but slowly a warmth starts to bloom inside him as he realises what’s happening. 

“I did,” Derek smiles gently. “Now, about that date. How does tonight sound?” 

⭐️

Derek decides on his favourite Italian place to treat Spencer at and his cheeks hurt by the end of the night; he’s pretty sure not one moment went by when he wasn’t smiling fondly at his statistics or stories or blushing. He slips his hand into Spencer’s as they walk out of the restaurant, swinging their arms a bit, directing them down the street towards the 24/7 ice cream parlour.

“I love ice cream,” Spencer grins as they head inside, his cheeks red from the cold winter air and the copious red wine they’d had with dinner. 

“Who doesn’t?” Derek asks, leading him up to the counter. 

Spencer insists on sampling far too many flavours before deciding on cookies and cream with mint chocolate chip in a cone. He licks at it happily while Derek sits opposite with two scoops of raspberry ripple in a cup and forces himself to think very pure thoughts. 

“Thank you for this, Derek,” he beams over his cone.

“Oh, pretty boy,” Derek says fondly. “Thank you.”

Emily spots it the minute he walks into the bullpen the next day. “I’m guessing things are going well with her,” she smirks as she skids over on her chair, grinning wildly. 

He sighs as he sits down, looking up at her as he sets his stuff down. “With him, yes,” he confirms, smiling a little. 

She raises her eyebrows and pauses for a moment. “Wow, okay, okay,” she says. “Well, I hope I can meet him soon.” 

“Might be a bit early for that yet, Em,” he laughs, “but if things go as well as I think they will, that’s definitely on the cards.” 

(Five months later, when Spencer finally does meet Emily, she’s as annoying as Derek expects her to be but seeing his boyfriend’s face light up as he gets welcomed in the found family of the BAU is worth every drop of teasing, and he wouldn’t change it for the world.)

[frogtanii]

It’s wind anon! (Imagine me as the screeching seagull meme) just pushing through the week. Getting the test out of my mind—it just sucks because there’s always this one test that I completely mess up on—and as someone who has to deal with all honors classes and my grades tend to be good, every time I fail to meet up to expectations my stress skyrockets. (Imagine a world where grades don’t matter and school is learning based rather than mark based...) Family pressures too—okay, wind anon is done ranting.

The update! The drama—I was there the moment it updated and I saw the comments rush in and I was laughing real hard.

But my reaction to the update!

Osamu POV :0!!! The insecurity... “all it did was remind him that he was alone”— I empathize because gosh, that is so real.

The attachment to Meiko though... his emotional state is on a very unstable tightrope. “Osamu had Meiko and he used to have Daichi and Iwaizumi...” that entire section has all my red flags raised. He’s going to completely break when everything comes out.

The loud clang startled me though. I was like “!!!” But it was our YN! Our kind, wonderful YN!! Trying to get snacks wwwwww.

Osamu thinking YN is cute :0 I be having a lot of thoughts about that but him squishing it down is fair. He considers himself to be in a committed relationship (though Meiko does not reciprocate and I am ready to fight regarding that) but I can respect his devotion (even if it is very misguided).

But. “After all, you were the reason Atsumu hated him now and never spoke to him anymore.” My gosh. What do I even say about this? Because the blame is entirely thrown off. I mean, you mentioned before Atsumu had a specific reason for believing in you over Meiko so I’m still waiting for that but Osamu is thinking something wrong but it’s a human action. It’s so easy to blame people to make yourself feel better. And your brain can do it without you realizing the depths of what has been thought.

Osamu being angry (!!!) and being a complete utter douche. YN literally just wanted a bag of chips and you’re here, crowding them in the pantry and being hostile. I don’t have much to say about it because he realized his mistake but by then he already stressed YN really badly and I am...(long sigh).

Atsumu to the rescue. We appreciate Atsumu very very much in this house. It really sucks that Osamu and Atsumu are confronting like this—I mean, Atsumu has been fighting a bit and Osamu had not really been listening to Atsumu on his own end prior to this confrontation so I’m...exhausted and a bit sad in the “It can’t be helped” kind of way.

“Osamu allowed him to, too in shock and ashamed to protest, much less fight back.” It couldn’t be helped considering how everything developed but...it still hurts my chest a bit, y’know? And then Osamu tries to apologize and I’m ready (so so ready) for them to communicate because they desperately need to—

But then Meiko comes in (I am...ready to throw stuff at her. Lots of stuff. Packing peanuts. All squeaky and annoying and bad for the environment just like she is—or something like that, I dunno, I’m half dead because I’m dealing with cramps rn) and all my wishes for them to finally have that much needed conversation where Osamu can finally break down and cry—all my wishes are turned to ash like.

(Angry Wind anon noises)

Meiko rubbing her makeup all over Osamu’s shirt like he is a rag. What in the... And her 4 inch heels please, I cannot, why, I can’t deal with this, I can’t, don’t make me get close to her because I’m like Yachi (stressed out of my mind). Please don’t do this to me. But yeah, Meiko with her poor makeup that doesn’t stay on her face. What the heck....

And Meiko’s scent... gross. Like, brown sugar, cute, nice, baked goods do smell really nice, (ever add a bunch of vanilla extract to a recipe? It like, perfumes around everywhere, it’s insane and wonderful) but chances are (because it’s Meiko), it’s overbearingly sweet. Chinese food (I do not trust her taste in Chinese food to be frank), I happen to come from a Chinese family, I have Chinese food for dinner like everyday, it would take a lot to be able to get that sort of scent on you. And I do mean a lot. And hairspray??? Chemical? I do not,,, I,,, Osamu, why would you breathe that in? It’s gonna be real bad for your lungs? And we already know Meiko smokes as well—your lung health, please value it—

And then the Suna entrance. Wonderfully done fr0ggy!

Final thoughts, I am very much projecting onto Yachi rn. Yachi has been in the house for less than a week and she already has to deal with this. The company should give her a raise. My gosh.

Anyway, might as well do a thoughts/headcanon thing because it’s been a while and my mind is still on gem/jewel stuff (so hope you don’t mind!)

Okay, so Kenma I think would go with a warm colored gemstone, and citrine would work well with him! “Protection against evil thoughts” because we know Meiko has ramped up is insecurity and lowered his self-esteem.

I mentioned this before last time but Sakusa is definitely onyx. That black is iconic, and “sharpening wit” would make sense with his grace for word play and snark.

Akaashi is an interesting one...I think sapphire. I mean, sapphire can have many colors besides the classic dark blue, so that’s one thing, but it’s known for “loyalty and a pledge of trust” which Akaashi gave. I think it’s suitable for him.

Suga...initially I was thinking pearl would match him in terms of appearance, but actually looking at my reference, turquoise would work really really well with him. “Protect from evil, maintain virtue, bring good luck”. Would work well.

For Atsumu and Osamu I wanted something that could represent their duality. My first thought was gold and silver. I mean, it’d fit in terms of appearance but I’m not sure that would be the best comparison. Gold doesn’t rust so it fits Atsumu who never fell for Meiko’s tricks. Silver has been said to vanquish dark/evil beings (vampires, werewolves, the classic silver bullets and stakes). It would be interesting to see if the comparison will apply to today’s update :D!

I like how my brain shut off and couldn’t remember anyone else for a second—anyway, Oikawa... every time I think of him, I want some hue of blue wwww. I guess Aquamarine “soothing influence” would work. Since he joined YN’s side, he has been able to see the big picture and be a voice of reason. He’s thoughtful and I think aquamarine which encourages long relationships is suitable because that is what he wanted. So yes, aquamarine.

Bokuto...is a tough one. I’m trying to still keep with their color schemes a bit. I think carnelian would work. “Health, luck, bold energy, warmth, joy”—it would represent him fine. It’s a bit more orange than I would prefer but it suits him so I think it’s okay.

Iwaizumi... emerald? I mean, he does suit green tones, and “rebirth, regeneration, new hope” would work just fine for him.

Right now my brain is complete mush and I can’t think of anything for Kuroo and Daichi. Like, Kuroo would be red, sure, but the more famous ruby/garnet I think don’t represent him fully because he is still rather contained. Hmm, would need to think about them more.

But I’d like your thoughts on this too :D!!

I wanna do something suitable for all colors for YN, so opal! YN has many different parts and colors and is overall a very vivid person—if you tilt opal, you see more and more faces and things underneath being brought into your eyes. YN may be seen from many different perspectives, but YN is always beautiful and amazing. So opal is what I think YN would be.

Anyway, I’ll end here :D! Need to eat lunch. Much love towards you fr0ggy! Make sure you eat and rest up too~ drink some water or any other fluid to hydrate! And keep warm too. Much love to all the fans and supporters and ask senders too! It’s really awesome seeing and hearing from all of you and seeing new faces with the old. Love the excitement and points you all bring up—makes my brain happy.

MAJDKD I NEED TO POST THE NEW CHAPTER BUT I HAD TO RESPOND TO THIS FIRST BESTIE ILY N I LOVE TUIS — I AM OBSESSED W THE CRYSTAL (??) STUFF??? IVE NEVER UNDERSTOOD IT BUT I THINK YOIVE EXPLAINED EACH GEM N WHY SO BEAUTIFULLY I AM IN LOVE W U KITH KITH UR SO LOVELY HAVE AN AMAZING DAY (sending u good vibes n anti-stress love >333)

[p-artsypants]

I’ll Handle This (11)

In Which The Metaphorical Crap Hits The Metaphorical Fan

Who authorized this angst in my crack fic?

Ao3 | FF.net

BWAAAAAAAA

BWA-BWAHHHHH

BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

“Where did you get a harmonica?” Adrien whispered.

BWAAAAAAAA

BWA-BWA-WAAAHHHHHH

“Wish I was back in Texas.

The ocean's no place for a squirrel.

Wish I was in Texas,

Prettiest place in the world, oh no.”

“Are you going to answer my question? Or are you going to continue to serenade your cellmates?”

“I guess deep in my heart,

I'll always be a Texas girl.”

“We’re in jail, you know. Maybe that’s not a big deal for you, but it is for me!”

“I wanna go hoooooome, home.”

Adrien scoffed and sunk into the pocket, sulking. Of course, since he was in a Kwami’s body, he was not in jail. He could leave at any time. In fact, he wanted to. Desperately. Jail, cells, bars, they were all part of his greatest nightmare. 

But he stayed with Plagg. 

They hadn’t been given a reason for arrest. Just, slapped with cuffs and hulled out of the Lahiffe household. 

Plagg went quietly. Asking no questions and offering no protests. It was like he knew what was to come. 

Adrien couldn’t fathom the speed at which things happened. 

And where the hell did Plagg get that harmonica?

BWAAHHHHHH

“Alright alright, Mr. Agreste. Enough with the music. Give it here!” An officer approached the bars, hand outstretched. 

“Are you going to tell me what I’m in here for?”

The officer huffed. “We were asked to scare you straight. Your father said you were traveling a road of self-destruction, and thought a night in jail would help clear your mind.” 

“That’s what I thought.” He stepped back, and continued to play his harmonica. 

BWAAAAAAAA

“Hey, I said hand over the harmonica!” 

“If you want it, you have to come get it.” 

“Oh, you don’t want me to, kid. Just make this easy and hand it over.” 

“Do you often arrest kids for no reason?” Plagg asked instead. 

The policeman crossed his arms.  Plagg could read his nameplate, which said Daryl. “I’m not sure what ‘no reason’ is to you...but your father sure gave me an earful of what you’ve been up to. I have a nephew your age. If he was doing the crap you were, I’d hall his ass in here too to straighten him out.” 

“And what, pray tell, did my father say I was doing?” 

“Drugs. For one thing. Running around with some local gangs. Theft. Getting violent. Playing hooky.” 

Plagg groaned. “Man, I hate to say it, but you got played. Sure, if I was doing all that, I wouldn’t blame my father for asking you to scare me straight. But that’s not what happened. Look at me. Do you think I would jeopardize these good looks for some drugs or fights?” 

Officer Daryl pulled a stool over and took a seat. 

“Alright, let’s hear your side of the story, then.” 

“First of all, I should have called you guys on him. He’s a tyrant! He’s the most self-centered, emotionally constipated, jerk-hole in Paris. And we’re French! That’s saying a lot!” 

“Does he physically harm you?” Daryl asked with concern. 

“Well...no. I wouldn’t put it past him, but not yet, at least.” 

“Does he provide a clean, safe environment for you?” 

“Almost too safe...” Plagg muttered. 

“Does he withhold necessities? Such as food, shower, or a bed?” 

“No, he cuts me off socially though. And he neglects my emotional needs. He thinks that because I’m fed and clothed, that’s all I need.” 

“I get it,” the man sighed. “Really, I do. It sucks to have a parent that seems like they don’t care. But I’ve seen mothers smoke crack in front of their malnourished, filthy babies. I arrested a pimp beating up a prostitute in front of her toddler. Your father might not be the best, but he’s far from the worst. And that is not something we can really help with.” 

Plagg took this into consideration and nodded. Police couldn’t really arrest someone for being a sourpuss, right? 

“However, when he comes to pick you up in the morning, we can recommend him to get you both in family therapy. That might be the avenue to take.” He smirked. “So if it wasn’t drugs, what did you do to make your father so upset?” 

“My father is Gabriel Agreste, fashion police. And I wore this out,” he gestured to the kilt he still wore. “Among other hideous outfits, just to get his attention.” 

The man looked extremely disturbed by this. “You’re serious? That’s it?” 

“I mean, I also ran away from home...” 

“Ah, now that is a little bit more of a problem. You’re what, 14?” 

“15.” 

“A minor. Your father does have guardianship over you. This would be grounds for us to bring you home...but I wouldn’t have brought you here.” 

“So you’ll let me go?” 

“I could, but then you could be lying about all this.” 

“What do I have to do to prove I’m not lying? Blood test?” 

“Now hold on, kid. As long as you behave tonight, we’ll put in a good word for you tomorrow. And like I said, we’ll talk to your father about family counseling...and we’ll have a word with him about misusing resources.” 

This was not good enough to Plagg. Because Gabriel was still winning. Slap on the wrist or not, having Adrien spend the night in jail would be seen as a victory in Gabriel’s eyes. Adrien was under control again. 

And that would just not do. 

“You have my word, Daryl, I’ll behave.” He smiled. 

“Glad to hear it. You can hold onto the harmonica, just keep it down.” Daryl scooted the stool back to where he had grabbed it, and walked back from where he came. 

Once the coast was clear, Plagg let Adrien out of his jacket. 

“Okay, phase into the lock and get me out.” 

“What!” Adrien shrieked. “No no no! I’m not busting your butt out of jail! That’s illegal!” 

“So are most of the things I do, but that doesn’t stop me.” 

“You said that there wasn’t a lock in this world that could hold you. I will not be your keyblade.” 

“What?” 

“It’s a video game reference.” 

“Nerd.” Plagg nabbed him out of the air and pulled on his tail. 

“Ow! Hey!” 

“Sit still!” He yanked and twisted and scrunched his tail until it was a crooked pin shape, then he stuck it in the lock, fiddled with it, before the door slid open. 

“Geez, next time I’ll just phase through the lock.” 

“That’s what I thought.” 

Plagg tucked Adrien back into his jacket and closed the cell door behind him. 

“So how are we going to get out? You can’t just walk out the front door.” 

Plagg narrowed his eyes. “Or can I?” 

“It won’t work.” 

“Try me, bitch.” And Plagg walked with deliberate steps towards the front doors, where they had been escorted in. 

Daryl, of course, spotted him. “Ah! Agreste! I don’t know how the hell you got out—“ 

Plagg raised a hand, two fingers together with the thumb out to the side. Then he stated sharply. “Eck thoos yul hikteem!” 

Daryl stopped, blinked once, twice, then said, “oh, Adrien, you’re right. Your father really did do us both a disservice. Come on, I’ll escort you up front. Do you need a ride back to your friend’s house?” 

Adrien’s jaw dropped. It wasn’t supposed to be that easy! 

“No thanks, officer. I think I’ll walk.” 

“Okay kiddo. Let us know if your old man gives you any more problems, okay?” 

“Haha, will do!” 

Once outside, with the doors firmly closed behind them, Adrien emerged. “What was that?” 

“What was what?” 

“That—that spell! Have you always been able to do that?! Do you use it on me?!” 

“Simmer down, buddy.” Plagg patted him on the head. “It was just a...very specific destruction spell.” 

“What did you do?” 

“It’s temporary, really. Nothing to worry about. Back in the old days, people might realize I used the spell on them, but with him...he might just have some doubts about his decision to let me out.” 

“Okay, but what did you do?!” 

“Just a little spell that changed his resolve. Earlier, I convinced him to let me go, but that little barrier of…justice, or honor, or whatever kept him from following through. So I just…removed it.”

“You just…removed it?”

“Yep!”

“How often do you use that?”

“Never, if I can help it. Notice I usually just annoy people to get my way. And using spells with the three conditions is completely counterproductive, by the way. Magic is a tool, not a shortcut. 

“So you can’t use that spell to get my dad to drop whatever wall he has between us?”

“No, because it’s effects are temporary, and we have to convince him to ease up on his own. You see?”

“I think so…so what now?”

Plagg smiled.

—

11:30 pm. The evening bowel movement. Ever since he turned thirty, Gabriel was able to predict and prepare for the movement. But he liked it that way. Everything should be planned out and under control. Something so animalistic as defecating would not interrupt his day. 

Now finished with his business, he came back down and headed to his Atelier, to prepare notes for the company tomorrow morning. 

He walked in, and noticed the lights were off. Odd. Had he shut them off by accident when he left for the bathroom? Had Nathalie shut them off?

He flicked the light on, and the big plush red desk chair behind his desk swung around slowly.

“Well, well, well…If it isn’t the parent of the year.”

Gabriel just gaped in shock. “You-you…how did you get here?! I just talked to—an hour ago! The police! You were in jail!”

“My my, Gabriel. I have never seen you so flustered before.” He shook his head with a chuckle. “Are you ready to call it quits yet? Or are you going to call the police on me again? What little lie will you tell this time? That I was trespassing? After I ran away from home?”

“Now Adrien, this was for your own good!”

“I think we both know this has far passed my own well being, old man.”

Gabriel just continued to stare at him, and Plagg wondered when the anger would burst out. Gabriel was never a level-headed man. So to see him so shocked, almost afraid, was concerning.  

Actually no, it was delightful. 

“You’re obsessed with control. To the point where I look like a cardboard cutout to you, instead of your son. Your son who is a human, with wants and needs and the capacity to make mistakes. But I can love. God, I can love, Gabriel. I want to love you. And my mind tells me I have to, because you’re my father. But your actions, your coldness, your control? That tells me that my love is being wasted. I might as well love my rock wall. It gives me the same amount of affection that you do.” 

Gabriel looked away, brow furrowed in thought. He still didn’t look angry, just confused and unsettled. “I really can’t...” he muttered to himself. 

“I’m sorry, what was that? You really can’t what? Control me? Is that what you were going to say?” 

“In a way...” Gabriel breathed. “Or ‘get you under control’, more specifically. But that’s the same thing, right? I want you to behave...but my way. And...you don’t want to.” 

“And that bugs you. Because all your employees do as you ask. But I’m not an employee. I think you forgot that.” 

“You escaped jail.” 

“I thought we were past that.” 

“Yes. Sorry, you’re right. I’m just...how? I talked to them, they said they were going to hold you until morning.” 

“I told you. There’s not a lock on earth that can hold me.” 

Gabriel collapsed into a chair, pushing his fingers through his hair and mussing it up. “Alright. I’m cornered. What do you want?” 

“A dad.” 

Gabriel frowned. Like the phrase was utter nonsense to him. 

Plagg stood and came closer, and when he spoke, his tone was much softer than it had been. “What’s going on? Why do you always push me away?” 

Gabriel tapped his thumbs together, clearly thinking. 

“I mean,” Plagg continued. “I’m no psychiatrist. If you’d rather us get therapy together, I would be down for that.” 

“Do you trust me?” Gabriel asked instead. 

“I’d like to,” Plagg shrugged. “But you haven’t trusted me enough to trust you back.” 

Gabriel stood. “Then I think it’s about time I let you in on what’s really been happening. It’s...it’s complicated. And I don’t expect you to understand right away. I should have told you sooner, but...I didn’t know how.” He walked over to the painting of Emilie in the style of Klimt. Then he beckoned Plagg closer. 

Plagg stood at his side, and looked at the painting with Gabriel. 

He expected some long winded monologue about love, and soulmates and how much losing a partner can hurt. He expected excuses and blame and guilt. 

He didn’t expect for the floor to move. 

Down. 

Down. 

Down. 

Adrien dared to peek out of the jacket, just to take a glance. 

They reached the bottom. A garden at the end of a bridge. 

Plagg was on edge, but didn’t speak. He just followed Gabriel down the bridge. Up to a tube. 

No, a casket. 

With Adrien’s mother inside. 

Wow. 

So...this was a lot more than he was prepared for. And Gabriel certainly was not a normal, predictable human. 

Gabriel 1. Plagg 0. 

Actually, right now it was more like Gabriel 1, Plagg 89. But who was counting? 

“I...that’s...” the shock was genuine. Adrien never knew what happened to his mom. And the whole time, she was in the basement? 

“She’s in a coma, and can’t wake up. It’s an effect of using the broken peacock miraculous.” 

Oh shit. Oh shit shit shit. This was bad. Really really terribly awfully bad. Edge of a knife, balancing on a thread kind of bad. 

“It is my hope that by obtaining the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculous, I can join them and wish for her to be healed and wake up.” 

Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it, Gabe! 

“I’ve been trying to do so with the use of the Butterfly Miraculous, as Hawkmoth.” 

Goddamn son of bitch! 

It occurred to Plagg that Adrien would probably not be taking this news quite as calmly as he was. Adrien would be screaming and crying, and begging his father not to do this. But Plagg just stood there, staring at Mrs. Agreste. It was shocking, and heartbreaking, but for Plagg, it was more frustrating and annoying. 

How was he supposed to repair this relationship now? Gabriel certainly didn’t seem remorseful. 

“And now that I’ve told you this…I’d like you to join me. I need your help, Adrien, to bring back your mother.”

And that was the final nail in the coffin. 

“Won’t you say something, son?”

What was there to say? ‘No’? ’Screw you old man’? No…he had to find some way to repair this. 

“How did you find out about the wish?” Plagg asked.

Gabriel opened his lapel, and his kwami emerged. “This is Nooroo, he allows me to transform into Hawkmoth.” 

Plagg turned his slitted eyes onto his estranged brother, only to receive a wide-eyed gasp. Nooroo knew, but continued to stay silent and wait. 

“He told me about the wish. He said it was the only way to save her.”

“The only way he knew of.” Plagg corrected.

Gabriel narrowed his eyes at him. “What—?”

Plagg sighed. “The ultimate wish would, potentially, work, however, balance must always be maintained. If you want to wake her up, someone else would have to take her place. Someone you love. Someone like Adrien.” 

Gabriel took a step back. “Who are you?”

“Ah, finally figured it out, hmm Gabe?”

Gabriel went pale. “Jesus Christ…I asked who you are! Where’s my son?!”

“He’s near. And he’s safe. It took you two weeks to notice that I wasn’t Adrien. Nino and Marinette figured it out way sooner. This possibly could have gone on forever if I hadn’t given myself away.” 

“WHO ARE YOU?!” Gabriel shouted, actually scared. 

Plagg smirked. “Name’s Plagg. The Black Cat Kwami. At your service.” 

“You…how? Why?” 

“The more important question is, do you want to save your family?” 

Gabriel gaped at him, so many questions going through his mind. 

“Keep in mind, the ultimate wish is half of my power. I know how it works. And I think I have an idea to save Emilie without sacrificing Adrien.” 

“Let me see him,” Gabriel begged, his voice full of gravel. “Let me see my son!”

Plagg took Adrien out of his jacket and held him up in his hand. 

Poor Adrien was bawling. He covered his face with his paws to keep from making noise. 

“Adrien…”

“How could you…you know I missed her so much…She was right here the whole time?” He sobbed. “And…and Hawkmoth…you’ve hurt everyone I’ve ever cared about.”

“Now son…”

“No! Shut up!” He wailed. “I agreed to this stupid body swap with Plagg because he promised that he’d get you to love me again…but I don’t know if I could love you. You’re a monster.” 

Gabriel stared, mouth open, fighting for words, willing to protest, but he had nothing. 

Plagg drew Adrien up to his face, holding him close to his cheek. “I’ve got you, buddy. It’s alright.” 

The Butterfly Miraculous burned on his chest, boiling with the despair from his son. Normally, Gabriel would want to capitalize on it…but now, he just wanted to make it go away. 

“What do I need to do to fix this?” He asked. 

“Well, for starters, hand over your Miraculous. And the Peacock, while you’re at it.” 

Adrien watched in amazement as Gabriel willingly handed over both brooches.  

“Okay,” Plagg stated with an exhale, he deposited Adrien’s tiny form into Gabriel’s hand. “Here, talk with your son. Listen to what he has to say. I’m going to take these somewhere safe. And talk to my sources about helping Emilie.” 

Gabriel clenched his eyes shut, like he was trying not to cry. “Had I known saving her would have been this easy, I would have asked for help. I don’t know how but...I would have.”

Adrien didn’t hold back the snark from his voice as he said, “Anything would have been better than terrorizing the entirety of Paris. What will mom think?”

This made Gabriel moan in pain. He hadn’t even considered it.

“How do I get out of here?” Plagg interrupted. 

“Oh uh…the elevator. There’s a button with an up arrow.” 

“Okay, I’ll be back Adrien.” Plagg took quick steps from the room. 

He knew they had to talk. Nothing would be fixed without them having honest communication, but it felt wrong to leave Adrien behind like that. 

Worst case scenario, Adrien could always cataclysm his father. It might permanently get them stuck until Adrien’s body perishes, but…

He left the mansion, making a beeline for Marinette’s house. The bakery was closed, and the lights were off, but Marinette’s lights were still on. 

Thankfully, he had his phone. 

“Hello?” Marinette’s cheerful chirp came from the other side. 

“Hey Marinette, I’m outside.” 

“What? Where?” 

“Not on the balcony, at the front door. I have a present for you.” 

The phone hung up, and he saw a light turn on in the stairwell. Then Marinette stumbled down the stairs and opened the door. “Do you have any idea what time it is? Why didn’t you transform?” 

“Couldn’t. Here,” and he took her hand and slapped the brooches in it.

“I...are these...? Is this a joke?” 

“Nope. Gabriel Agreste is Hawkmoth and he handed these over to me himself.” 

“Gabriel is...?” She clutched her heart. “Adrien...where’s Adrien?” 

“Currently having a heart to heart with his dad.” 

“Yeah, but...isn’t one of the conditions to repair their relationship?” 

“Yep.” 

Tears welled up in her eyes. “And he was really Hawkmoth?” 

“He was trying to get the miraculous to bring his wife back. She’s in a coma in their basement.” 

“Oh my god...” 

“You said it, sister.” 

“Is he okay? Should I go over there?” 

“He’s upset. Obviously. I was hoping Ladybug and the horse miraculous would make an appearance over there. We can take Emilie to the Guardian temple in Tibet. They certainly have a way to wake her up.” 

“Are you sure? Or are you just hoping?” 

“I’m sure. Not the first time a miraculous has broken and hurt someone.” 

“Should I bring the peacock too, then?” 

“Maybe keep it in your compact, just in case.” 

Just then, a chirp came from the ring. 

“Uh, well I’ll be a monkey’s uncle.” 

“What?” 

“A condition was just met.” 

Marinette grabbed his hand and stared at the ring. “What?! How?!” 

He shrugged. 

“Lila must have died.” 

Plagg laughed. “You think that’s more likely?” 

“I’ve seen how stubborn Mr. Agreste can be. There’s no way they’ve reconciled. What was the wording of the condition, exactly?” 

Plagg smirked. “Conveniently, we didn’t have specific wording. The three conditions are ‘return unrequited crush from Ladybug—“

“Which was already requited, so it shouldn’t have even counted.” 

“‘Get rid of Lila permanently,’ and ‘fix the relationship with father’. If you have a leaky pipe, you can replace the whole thing, or you could just throw some duct tape on it. Both would be considered fixes. Maybe they found their duct tape for now.” 

“Perhaps. But I’m not going to stop worrying until I see him myself. Let me pop these in the Miracle Box, and I’ll meet you down in a minute.”

—

Ladybug returned to the mansion with Plagg. He escorted her in, passed the office, down the hidden elevator, and into the garden where he had left Gabriel and Adrien. 

When the door opened, there was laughter. Not manically laughter, like one might think of in a villain's lair, but laughter like someone told a really good joke.

“And then I said, ‘Napoleon may not have designed his coat, but he had a hand in it!’” More laughter. 

Puns. 

They were bonding over effing puns. 

“Adrien?” Ladybug called out carefully, in case he had lost his mind. 

“My lady!” He chirped, and zipped over to her, nuzzling her cheek. 

Ladybug squeezed him carefully in her hands and kissed his little head. “Are you okay? Plagg told me what happened. I’m so sorry, Sunshine.” 

He gave her a little smile, a purr rumbling in his chest. “I’m okay, my lady. Or I will be. My dad apologized, and we talked and...well, put a bandaid on a bullet wound. But it’s a start.” 

“Ladybug?” Gabriel asked softly. “Would you...help my wife?” 

She stepped closer to the coffin, finally seeing Emilie in her coma. She looked like a living doll. Was she even breathing? 

“Plagg says the Guardians in Tibet can help. But I would like my Kwami to take a look first, just to make sure. Are you going to behave?” 

“All I want is my wife back. If your miraculous is the bad way to do it, then I don’t want it. I almost lost Adrien. I don’t want that to happen.” 

It was a good answer. “Spots off.” 

Gabriel gasped when he saw her, and then chuckled. “Of course it would be you, Miss Dupain-Cheng.” 

“What’s so funny?” 

“You know, I tried to akumatize you several times.” 

“Yeah, I remember.” She glared  at him. 

“I thought you would be a perfect akuma. You’re incredibly creative, resourceful, strong-willed, and have a strong sense of justice. I knew that if I could get you, I’d definitely win.” 

She shrugged. “I guess I will take that as a compliment...” 

Tikki flitted over to the casket, followed by Plagg. They observed, and conversed. 

“Do you think it will work?” Asked Adrien. 

“Plagg certainly seemed to think so.” She scratched the back of his head. “You know, your ring went off while Plagg was briefing me. Seems you met another condition.” 

Adrien looked at her with wide eyes. “You serious?” 

“Seems like your bandaid did just enough. Or Lila died.” 

“Lila? Lila Rossi? What does she have to do with this?” Asked Gabriel. 

So they told him the whole story. About how Adrien had lamented to Plagg about his problems, and how Plagg had tricked him. They laid out the conditions and explained that only one remained. 

Getting Lila to leave him alone. 

“Well, for one thing, I can fire her.” Gabriel said simply. “I have no need for a compulsive liar in my employment.” 

Adrien hugged his father’s neck. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!”

“Of course, I could also set up a restraining order, if you’d like.” 

“That would make things...maybe even more difficult. She would take it as a challenge.” 

“I thought as much. Well, if Emilie is truly going to Tibet, I will go with. And while we’re gone, we’ll think of ways to help with Lila. If you haven’t solved it already. I should probably leave an email for Nathalie so she knows what’s happened.”

“Did she know?” 

“Mayura.” 

“Ah, right.” 

“Oh crap!” Adrien suddenly exclaimed. 

“What?” 

“Nino still thinks I’m in jail!”

[riverster]

My turn. These might suck

R I V E R K E N D A L L H C S

-Gets flustered but rarely or  depending on who's he's dealing with

-Close friends with Karma since childhood they just vibed

-Knows about karma's issues and how some of her decisions can screw her over so he's kinda a "dad" cus she didn't had a father figure as a child (absent parent )

-He's between being masculine and femine

-Will blow up if you say anything about him "being a jock"

-maybe a bit too obsessed with dior cus taste

-mostly the more reasonable and logical one (so he knows when karma's plans to expose vi won't work )

-Tries his hardest to get karma to realize she's being a bitch for no reason

-He's mostly pretty chill

-If u do something wrong you better believe he will tell you so

-Likes to exercise and do yoga cus he likes to care for the body and mind

-Maybe has too many scented candles (it sets the vibe in his room especially when having karma around )

-a pretty sweet person but he has limits

Gonna steal this hc for acting cus idk what to add:

-When acting he really likes to put a ton of effort into the emotion of the character he's portraying

-loves to dress up

-obsessed with barbies from the 2000s, MLP mostly G3 cus of the aesthetic, and bratz

-Very much so likes barbie mariposa

-Tries to stay away from drama but he's got karma to make that harder for him

-Likes to bling (why wouldn't he)

-Cares for the people around him so that's why he looks out for yk who

-"Just because I look like a jock, doesn't mean that's all that I am."

-he REALLY likes literature

-when it comes to acting, or most things he's pretty humble he doesn't care about applauding or anything but more at doing the best at what he enjoys

-likes to play the ukulele (it annoys tf out of karma )

-has a good connection with poppy cus they both really appreciate music

-writes late night  poetry when he can't fall asleep (yes)

-definetly gay

-actually grew up in a decent environment

-gonna jump onto the mamas boy hc (i can imagine him being very close with his mom )

-likes nicki minaj for sure

-does indeed have a cap collection like likes caps

-he likes to twerk from time to time he just DOES

That's it bye might do karma

[chickenmcfly1]

Do you have headcanons or thoughts on Marty's relationship with his family in the original timeline? We only get that quick glimpse of them at dinner, & it doesn't look like there's much warmth there, but do you think he had any sort of close connection with them? Or do you hc that it was basically always dysfunctional?

Thanks for the question! I tend to go back and forth about this a lot. Sometimes, I feel like they all do love each other very much and have a lot in common, and just suck at expressing it, but sometimes I do feel that there’s a lot of dysfunction and maybe even genuine resentment between them. We’ll see lol (I’m also writing this in like 15 mins before my rehearsal, so I didn’t proofread. Enjoy deciphering my typos)

Side note: Did George even like Lorraine? Or did Lorraine just obsess over him like she did Calvin Klein and George just kinda went along with it because she’s cute and popular and saying no would involve confrontation? We know he was infatuated with her, but I hardly believe that infatuation and the Florence nightingale effect are enough to base a marriage on. Anyway,

George

George makes absolutely zero effort to reach out to anyone in his family. It’s not that he doesn’t like them, it’s just that he doesn’t know how. He doesn’t understand how to connect with his wife or be a dad to his kids

When the kids were little, especially Dave, George was pretty good with the kids. They’re cute and they’re babies, and he gets flustered when they cry and they stress him out a bit, but all in all, it’s good. But by the time the babies start turning into actual people, and god forbid, teenagers, George is so stressed and afraid, he’s like “oh no better not get involved”

By the time Marty comes around, his marriage is already falling apart, he’s like “oh no, this parenting thing is really difficult,” I should probably just not, and so they just kinda leave Marty to his own devices

He’s severely preoccupied with his work and that always takes priority over family which upsets Lorraine to no end

Just the fact that George let’s Biff hang around and works for him after what he did to Lorraine makes her really uncomfortable and hurt

Speaking of Biff, Biff tends to be a jerk to the kids as well. We see him poking fun at Marty and Marty look very physically uncomfy when it happens. If he’s really drunk, he has gotten physical with them too. We know, Biff can become a cold blooded murderer at the slightest provocation, so I feel like him shoving around a few teenagers just to be like “haha George look what I’m doing to your kids. Are you gonna do anything about it?” Or just out of resentment bc those are George kids with Lorraine is not out of character. George still won’t say anything

On a more positive note, though, he’s very close with Dave. They both have similar interests and Dave was his first kid, after all.

He recognizes how similar Marty and him are, but instead of taking that as a “oh this kid just needs a push of encouragement, and a confidence boost,” George’s mentality is to just protect Marty from any situation where he will face rejection or disappointment. It’s his way of showing love, but it really just hurts Marty more than anything.

This whole combination of George not standing up for Marty when he’s pushed around by Biff or yelled at by his mom and telling Marty “oh you won’t be successful anyway, just don’t try” really makes Marty feel . . . I hesitate to use the word worthless because that’s such a strong word, but for lack of a better term, his dad insinuating the idea that Marty deserves to be pushed around and that he won’t ever have success so he should just give up makes him feel really worthless and bad about himself

Marty sees this, and decides that he will never be like that and he will never let anyone else be treated the way Marty was. So whenever someone’s in trouble or being mistreated or spoken badly about, Marty will step in. And this whole fear of ending up like his dad and that idea of “I feel weak and powerless and worthless right now, but If I don’t let anybody else even think I’m those things, if I can prove them wrong and they validate me, I’ll feel better about myself” just feeds into Marty’s chicken complex.

With George, I don’t even think he makes an effort to make a change. He doesn’t seem like he would take initiative and fix his relationship with his wife and kids. So George just kinda decides “this is my life now, and it sucks, but what can I do” and sinks into this depressed state, making him even more afraid and withdrawn and perpetuating the cycle more

Lorraine

Lorraine is absolutely miserable. She’s lonely, she feels unloved, she’s in a home where someone she is very uncomfortable with pushes her husband around regularly and she knows if it came down to it, George would not tell Biff to leave her alone

She, unlike George, tries to get her family to do normal suburban family things, but they always fall apart. She’s usually drunk and moody and she and George are incapable of setting things up in a way that’ll make them work, but she’ll get mad when things don’t go how they’re supposed to (which they rarely do) and it’ll usually end in George stuttering in fear, Dave escaping to get to ‘work,’ Linda getting out of there, Marty booking it to Doc’s, and Lorraine being absolutely over it

She’s an alcoholic and she’s barely functional enough to do what’s needed of her, but somehow getting along. A lot of drinking means a lot of hangovers, and a good 60% of the time, she’s either drinking, or pretty out of it.

When she’s drunk, she usually retreats away, but if she ends up in a situation with one of her kids when she’s drunk and just wants to be left alone, she can be very mean and critical. Marty is a sensitive person, and we know he really lets criticism get to him, so this is not the greatest environment for him.

Also Lorraine is probably totally over the guitar thing. I speak from my poor parents experience when I say that dealing with a musician in the early stages is not easy. It involves a lot of hearing them practice the same bar over and over and over and over and over and it can drive you absolutely insane. So when Lorraine is hungover or whatever, she just wants Marty to shut up which makes Marty all the more insecure about his music

She’s also very critical in general. She’s hard on Marty, and will pretty much ignore him unless she’s giving some kind of criticism or yelling at him for something or the other. Marty knows at this point not to argue back because he’ll just get his feelings badly hurt. I mean, when Lorraine shits on Jennifer at dinner, Marty just sits silently, looking supremely uncomfortable, which is nothing like how the Marty we know would react when his loved ones are insulted.

I feel like Marty’s desperation for validation comes from this. The way he keeps trying to wrap his arm around Jennifer, the way he’s so latched on to Doc, people who validate him, it’s clear that Marty has not been told that he’s good enough very often, and he’s very eager to prove he is to others and himself. That also explains why he values other’s opinions of him so much, too.

Anyway, back to Lorraine, Lorraine is so despondent at the state of her life that she just sinks further into her alcoholism and depression, once again making their family situation that much worse. She does try to make things work and do normal family things, but it just doesn’t work out

Money must’ve been tight too. I mean, 5 people on one average at best income living in California can’t have been comfortable, which would’ve probably just added more tension

But yeah, those are some of my thoughts on the matter lol. This family is a hot mess, and I’m so glad Marty has doc to reverse all that trauma lol

[sometimes-i-write-4-you]

Beatrice to my Benedick - Steven Hyde x reader

Dear diary,

Being the best student in literature has it's perks, like getting paired with the worst student for the big end-of-the-year project. Steven Hyde took this class because he thought it was an easy A, but he was wrong. The only A he got in that class was A headache.

Why would it be a perk to get paired with him, you may wonder? Well, I liked Steven for a while now. We barley exchange words, but if there was a looks class, that's his easy A.  his attitude needs a bit of work, but his cynical comments make the class better, and the way he threw in every irrelevant fact possible to piss off Mr. D was… I don't even know how to explain, attractive? I adore the fact he gives zero fucks about who gives a fuck. And now I have a chance to get to know him as more than the troublemaker. Will I fuck it up? probably. Wish me luck.

(y\n) close the notebook she used as a diary and pushed it under the closed book on her desk, going back to copying from the bored the assignment. The big end of the year project was to take a Shakespeare play and plan how a current day adaption of it would look. "much like west side story taking Romeo and Juliet's story and placing it in the times of the 50's, with street gangs instead of high-class feuding families, touching subjects that are relevant to the time like immigrants and the way we treat them" Mr. D explained farther. There was one thing that man loves more than homework: Shakespeare. The bell rings, and (y\n) started to pack up her things.

"listen, you're like, really smart and I'm not so how about you do everything and I get 50% of the credit". Those words came out of a mouth belonged to a curly haired, sun-glasses wearing handsome guy. "no" she said, pushing her things in her backpack and getting up, "that's fucking stupid, I'm not letting you do nothing and get an A" she kept talking, but the moment she looked at him she started to stutter. "common, you know I'll just ruin you’re a, do you want to ruin your perfect scoresheet?" Steven Hyde kept insisting. "n-no, look, that's, uh, that's a really big project" she replied. "fine" he sighed, giving up quicker then she expected. "you're place right after school?" he offered. "sure" she smiled, not really knowing how to function next to him. she was okay as long as she didn't wonder if his eyes look her up and down behind the sunglasses, so she looked away from him. "do you have a car here? Cause I drove with a friend this morning, so I don't have one here. Or in general, I don't, I don't have my license… yet, don't have it yet" (y\n) said. She was still messing up her sentences, even without looking at him. "yeah, I have a car. I'll meet you at the exit, bye" he said, ignoring her rumbling. "okay, see you" she said, waving behind him. "shit" she mumbled the moment he was out of her sight, leaving the classroom to go to her next one.

The school day was finally over, and (y\n) stood by the gate, waiting for Steven to come. He arrived, finally. He barley waved at her, but she followed him to the car anyways. He opened the door for her, still quiet. "didn't expect you to be the gentleman type" she mumbled, but he heard. "I'm not, but you seem like you wouldn't dare to touch my car without my permission. Just saving time" he said as he sat down beside her. "oh" she said, a bit disappointed. He was right though; she'd probably embarrass herself by asking "do I just open it? Can i?", and she has made herself enough of a fool in front of him already. He started the car and turned on the radio. "if you have a problem with the music, suck it" he said. He pressed the gas and they left the school.

"what makes you think I don't like the rolling stones?" she asked him, and he looked at her for a second before moving his eyes back on the road. "you seem like a good girl type of… girl" he said, stopping as the lights turned red. "being a good girl doesn’t mean I can't enjoy good music" she laughed. His surprise made her proud, for some reason. "good point" he said, "who else do you like?" he asked. "take a left after the lights" she said, giving him directions to get to her house, "and as for your question - Led Zeppelin are great, Aerosmith" she listed, and he nodded in approval. "maybe you're not that bad. I was planning to be a dick and make you want to do the project alone, but I might have to actually help a fellow rock fan" he said. "thank you..?" she said, her tone making it a question. "you better thank me" he said, turning the wheel. The car took a sharp left, and she thought she's gonna die for a second. "the next right and then-" "wait, that's the rich part of town" Hyde cuts her off, "man, this might be a lot more fun than expected "he smiled, and she sighed. "look, just, don't talk about it to you're friends, okay? I just don't want people to look at me as a rich stuck-up" she asks. "honey, everyone thinks you're a stuck-up anyways" Hyde replies, "with you're way too nice behavior, and the way you never go off the rails. You try to hard to be good, people think you think you're better then us" he says, popping her bubble. "I'm not better then you, I just don't want a criminal record" she replied, immediately defending her name. "do people really think so?" she asked after a moment of silence. "yeah" he said.

They finally got to her house. "dude, you are-" "don't say that" she cuts him off. They went inside and settled in her room.  "so, what play do you want to make-up an adaption for?" she asks. "uh, let's do something easy. Romeo and Juliet, but it's high school and we can talk about the effects of social-status on our lives" Steven said. "everyone is going to that" (y\n) says, "we need something else".

She takes the book of off her nightstand. "what's that?" Steven asks her. "the comedies of Shakespeare" she replies. "it's- you read that for fun?" Hyde laughs. "yes" she says, "got a problem with that?" she says, raising an eyebrow. The comfort of her house returned her ability to talk, and the longer she spent time with him the more conferrable she felt. Plus, she barely looked at him. she hands him the book and allows him to choose a title.

"what's this one?" he asks, pointing at the letters forming "Much Ado About Nothing". "oh, this is one of my favorites" she smiles, "a soldier falls in love with the daughter of the governor, evil guy makes Claudio – the soldier – to think Hero – the daughter – is unfaithful. Meanwhile, Don Pedro, who's also a soldier, is setting up the third soldier – Benedick - with the niece of the governor – her name is Beatrice, and that's most of the plot. Also, evil dude? Half-brother of Don Pedro" she explains. "so… jock likes principal's daughter, who's in... I don't know, chess? Then dude from Chess club is like "man, she's cheating on you". Other Jock dude and other girl in chess club fall in love as well" Steven makes up a way to place the story in current times and an environment they know enough to do the assignment. "okay, not that bad for someone who wanted to not do the work" she laughed, and sat down at her bed, "let's get to work". He sat down beside her, and they started working.

Weeks pass by, and the project is finally done. "that's sad, I was actually enjoying working with you" (y\n) said, after they handed out the project. "we can still hang out, you can come with me to the Forman's, I think Donna would like you, and you can have a nerd-down with Eric. He's obsessed with Star Wars, you read Shakespeare for fun… which one's the nerdier?". "I love Star Wars" she says. "and… it's you. You are such a nerd" he smiled, and she laughed. "sure, yeah, that's be cool. See you after school, you can drive cause, you know, I don't have a car, or a license-" "yeah, I know" he says, and waves goodbye as he walks away. "yup, great, just. great" she sighs.

They arrive at the Forman's and turns out Steven was right, she got along with his friends right away. Kelso hit on her after less than a minute, Fez made her feel a mix of fluttered and uncomfortable, Donna and her got along perfectly and Eric and her managed to start an argument regarding a star-wars thing no one else understood. They settled it eventually, when Jackie asked them to "stop, I don't want your nerdiness to stick to me, that’s just.. ugh". "well, I'll go to the bathroom for a sec, Donna, my notebook is in my bag, you can copy the homework" (y\n) said, and went upstairs, leaving her bag behind. Donna took out a notebook and flipped through, realizing this is not the right notebook.

"that's not science, that's her diary" Donna sighs, putting it aside and looking for the right notebook. "ohhh, juicy" Jackie laughed and grabbed the diary, reading through. "don't read it, it's personal" Kelso says, taking the notebook away, "how would you feel If someone read your diary?" he asked while reading the page Jackie was reading a second ago. "dude, that's rude" Steven said, and took the diary away. He was about to put it back in her back, but he noticed his name, and started reading it. "I liked steven for a while now…" he says outload. "Steven Hyde, what the fuck?!" (y\n) calls out, takimg the diary from his hands. "That's- how can you do this?" she sighed, tears forming in her eyes. She took her bag and ran off, not giving Steven the chance to explain, or react to what he just read.

He ran after her.

"(y\n), wait!" he called after her, running as fast as he could. He catches up quickly, since his legs were longer than her's. "listen, okay?" he says, and she sighs, grabbing her hand. "no" she said, trying to pull her arm out of his. "please?" "no" "please?" "no" "please?" "n-" they argued back and forth, until he kissed her. "please?" "okay" she gave up. "I like you, (y\n). look, Donna took it out instead of the science notebook, and I took it away from Kelso to put it back, and then I saw my name. I had to read it, I needed to know if it says you like me. You're like... the Beatrice to my Benedick" he said, embarrassed to admit that was the information he looked for. "oh" she says, "I guess that's… weirdly sweet" her smile finally shows up on her tear-covered face. "don't call me sweet" Steven sighs. She laughs. "I mean, I know you'll say yes, cause, you know, I read you're diary-" "don't mention that, please" "-sorry, but, do you want to go out sometime?" he asks. "no" she says, "I don't date guys that read my diary, so-" he kissed her once again, this time the kiss is deeper and more passionate. Their lips move perfectly against each other's lips. They finally cut off the kiss to breath. "however, I do date good kissers, so, I guess I... I guess I'd go put with you, sure" she sighs, hands on the collar of his shirt. "cool" he smiled, and took her hand, leading her back to his friend's basement.

[artificialqueens]

Please Don’t Take My Crown Just Because You Can (Olivia Lux x Trixie Mattel) - Plastiquedoll

read on ao3  👑

Summary: It was a bad idea. Trixie knew it from the second she signed up for it. Her stomach hadn’t been quiet from that moment on, she could barely get any sleep the previous night and her hands were constantly sweaty. How could she let her mother convince her of entering a beauty pageant? …Another beauty pageant. That was what she thought until she met Olivia and maybe -just maybe- her day got much better.

A/N: hi there! this is my entry for the rare pair fic challenge! I hope you like it <3

my train of thought for this story was the following one: rare pair challenge > 21 Jolene by Dolly Parton > Dolly Parton Trixie Mattel music > Dolly Parton movie Dumplin > Dumplin movie with beauty pageants > (break to remember that one roast joke about Ginger working with Jennifer Anniston) > pageant queens > line of the song about the Jolene’s > Olivia has a beautiful smile > Trixie was kind of obsessed with her on the pit stop > Trixie x Olivia > rare pair > Trixie x Olivia pageant queens au with Jolene somewhere

It was a bad idea.

Trixie knew it from the second she signed up for it. Her stomach hadn’t been quiet from that moment on, she could barely get any sleep the previous night and her hands were constantly sweaty.

How could she let her mother convince her of entering a beauty pageant?

…Another beauty pageant.

Only because her older sister was a pageant queen it didn’t mean she was cut from the same mold.

Even during the prior weeks when she tried that beautiful nightgown covered in sequins that fit her so well, she didn’t feel fully comfortable in it. Even in the talent category –one she was supposed to excel in since she had chosen singing- she wasn’t completely sure of the song she had picked and don’t get her start on the swimsuit category.

It was a nightmare.

Now she had paid the fee it was too late to regret it. She was already in the building, she had signed the damn application form and she had a number assigned –twelve- there was no way out even when all her senses were tingling and her body kept telling her to run away.

She took a deep breath and walked into the dressing room where her fellow competitors were already dolling up. She saw a mother stretching a corset so much the boobs of the girl were in a different color than her face and also a girl with a professional makeup team of three people doing her face, hair, and nails. This was no joke for some of them.

Of course, Trixie had been looked down on the moment she showed up and it was intimidating to walk among those trained pageant girls who whispered and tittered when she passed by their stations. Some of them might have identified her, some of them might be guessing what she was doing there.

Luckily, she found her mirror and hangers to be located in an isolated area near one of the back doors. At least she could get ready in peace.

Her mother walked into the room and it got as quiet as a church. The heads turned and immediately recognized the former Miss USA even after all those years, they also knew Trixie’s sister, Pearl, the current Miss Teen America; with both proud achievements under her arm, her mother solemnly crossed the place to her station with a couple of makeup bags on her hands. She greeted everyone with her fakest smile and then she looked at her daughter.

“Ronan will get your stuff in a moment.” She caressed Trixie’s hair. “Brush your hair, it’s dry.” She said with disdain. “And pinch your cheeks, you look ill.”

Forget that part of getting ready in peace.

Trixie instinctively grabbed a brush while her mother went mingle –and collected information about the other girls.

Suddenly, a voice surprised her.

“Hi!”

Trixie turned around and froze for a moment.

In the contiguous mirror labeled number thirteen, there was a girl with a bathrobe, rollers on her dark brown hair and by far the most beautiful smile Trixie had ever seen, the kind that made people go weak on their knees, with her not being the exception.

She’s beauty and she’s grace, she takes my breath away.

She looked like she had just arrived as well. Her makeup bags were closed and her dresses were in bags.

“It seems we’re going to be neighbors today.” She kept flashing her dazzling smile.

“Yeah… I mean… Hi, I’m Trixie.”

“Olivia, Liv…” She shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, Trixie. If you don’t mind, may I ask you a question?”

Trixie would later find out that was Olivia’s catchphrase.

“Sure, go ahead.”

“Where can I find a plug for my phone?”

“Behind the mirror.”

“Oh, thank you… by the way I love your hair.”

Trixie touched her messy blonde hair she hadn’t even styled yet and wondered if that was a tactic but Olivia seemed genuinely nice. The girl sat on her chair and started doing her makeup, -Trixie needed to do the same but she also wanted to keep talking to her.

But before she could say something else, her mother came back with the bags with her outfits.

“Bad news is that Violet is here but maybe you can beat her in the talent portion, good news is that there was a blizzard and Naomi couldn’t take the flight.” She sounded way too excited about that.

“Jeez, mom…”

“What? Know your competitors.” She stared at Olivia. “And who do we have here? I’m afraid I don’t remember your name, darling.”

“I’m Olivia Lux, Mrs. Mattel. We haven’t met but it’s such an honor.”

Her mother smiled and shook her hand. “Lovely.” She looked at Trixie again. “We have a lot of work to do.”

“I’ll do my makeup.” She began taking her brushes out of the bag.

“Good idea, don’t apply too much the judges didn’t like it last time.”

At that point, Trixie just wanted her mother to be gone for a hot second since that was the only moment she could get to relax while doing something she enjoyed and she couldn’t fully do that under her eagle eye. She was already stressed by the rehearsals and the competition, she didn’t need any more pressure over her shoulders.

As if her thoughts were heard, one of the other mothers called Trixie’s mother’s name and she made a fuss to say hi to her and gossip some more.

“Whoa, your mother is a legend.” Olivia whispered, still a bit thunderstruck.

“I guess…” Trixie sighed. “Sorry you had to hear what she said earlier, she gets a little… in the pageant mood.”

What Trixie wanted to say was «she’s like a shark and pageants are bloodbaths».

Olivia just gestured with her hands downplaying it. “Most mothers here are like that… don’t worry.”

“By the way, where are you from? I don’t think I have seen you here before.”

Way to go, Trixie, what brings you to San Antonio, Texas to this room full of nasty people and ugly hot weather?

“I’m from New Jersey but I think the reason we hadn’t met it’s because… being completely honest, this is my third pageant.”

Trixie almost had a seizure. “What?”

She looked so calm and collected she couldn’t have guessed it was only her third time participating.

Olivia giggled. “The first beauty pageant I participated was as a dare from one of my friends back in New Jersey and I won Miss Polaris… then I tried my luck in the Miss Natural Beauty in New York and also won.” She fidgeted with her rings. “I hadn’t gone this far until now and I’m actually considering going full-time… but I don’t have many references to ask advice from.”

And she wanted to ask Trixie? Out of all girls in that room?

“I have to admit that’s pretty impressive.”

“Thank you.”

“Pageant world is… wow… exhausting? It requires a lot of effort and dedication. My mother put my sister and me in pageants since we were little so we grew up in this environment so we’re used to the viciousness of it.”

Just to think they could’ve made it into Toddlers and Tiaras if it wasn’t canceled a year before their pageant debut.

Olivia looked at her with wide eyes, expectant.

“It is also a nice place to share and form sincere bonds with other girls, like a sisterhood.”

The girl grinned. “That’s wonderful!”

“Yeah…”

“I must admit that the scholarship program of Miss Teen America is also what dragged me here today. I need to gather some more experience before even considering giving it a try and having a good score here could help me to qualify for the nationals.”

“That’s the dream…” Trixie knew about it, she had been prepared all her life to be the following to reign after her sister.

Trixie did her makeup in almost record time, she knew they had counted minutes inside the dressing room and they hadn’t rehearsed the walk or the places on the stage –they barely had some time to try the acoustic and do something similar to a soundcheck before lunch.

She needed a minute away from that place or she was going to have a breakdown. When her mother wasn’t looking, she sneaked out to the emergency stairs that had a «DO NOT CROSS» yellow sign… perfect.

To her surprise, she wasn’t the only person who had had the same idea.

“Hey, Violet.”

The girl with black hair in a purple robe with her name embroidered –she probably had her famous corset underneath- lifted her gaze. She was sitting on the stairs with a cigarette in one hand and her phone in the other.

“Needed a break?”

Trixie nodded. “I swear there’s something inside there that sucks the air of the room.”

“It’s not the air, it’s the former pageant queens sucking the youth out of your body.”

The blonde cackled. “Most likely.”

“Where’s your sister? She won Miss Teen and now she’s too good for an open call pageant?”

“Didn’t you hear? She sprained her ankle skiing a couple of weeks ago…”

“I heard that.” Violet rolled her eyes. “Now tell me what really happened.”

“She sprained her ankle trying to climb the window of her room after she sneaked to go to a college party.”

Ladies, gentlemen, and folks… Miss Teen America!

Violet snickered. “Dumb whore.”

She offered Trixie a smoke but the blonde shook her head.

“It’d fuck my throat for the talent section.”

“Maybe that’s the strategy.” A cloud of smoke came from her lips.

Trixie laughed. Violet had never needed to use a dirty tactic to win. She simply didn’t give a fuck and that was the reason Trixie liked her and the reason they had developed a certain level of camaraderie… it could be even called a friendship. Maybe what she had said to Olivia wasn’t as far from reality as she thought, maybe there was room to bond over the trauma of lost childhood and terrible mothers.

“Are you doing your baton routine?”

The raven-haired girl nodded. “This time, with a spark…” She did jazz hands, ironically.

“They are letting you do the fire thing?”

“God bless Texas or something like that.”

“I thought it was unsafe.”

“Nonsense… I could do it blindfolded… actually…”

“Pyro psychopath.”

“What about you? I saw your guitar in the dressing room. Are you finally going to sing one of your SoundCloud songs?”

Trixie sighed. “I wish… Mrs. Barbara Mattel won’t let me. She says it isn’t appealing to the public like going for a well-known classic.”

“Let me guess, Dolly Parton?”

“Yeah…”

“It’s always «yes» not «yeah», Miss Mattel.” She mocked.

“Fuck off, you skinny bitch.”

“You say it as if it’s something wrong with that.”

“I’m always hoping for you to faint during the run on the stage.”

“Because that’s the only way you could win.”

They laughed at each other. Everything was so ridiculous they needed the laughter to make things lighter.

“Well, you have competition with the singing thing…” Violet commented.

Trixie raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

“That new girl from Jersey… the one that looks like she came out from a toothpaste commercial.”

“Olivia?” She asked with disbelief… well, it shouldn’t have been any surprise since she seemed like the type of girl who could do anything anyway.

“And she plays piano too.” Violet dumped the ashes of her cigarette over the stairs but she was also adding fuel to the fire.

Fuck.

Maybe Trixie was very good at singing but the judges always looked with good eyes when someone played a more classical instrument like violin or piano, it made the girls look more sophisticated than an acoustic guitar.

She was truly underestimating Olivia for being the rookie in the room but if she was as good as Violet had said, she might have reasons to be worried.

Back in the dressing room, her mother nagged her for disappearing before getting the curlers on. She had her hair pulled and entangled in the plastic tubes under a pink cap. Some girls had left in rounds to the rehearsal of the talents that couldn’t make it in the morning, Olivia among them.

With her not being there to bright the room a little, Trixie felt alone. She knew she had just met Olivia but there was something so radiant and charming about her that she couldn’t shake off her mind. That… and the fact that Trixie was just being gay as fuck while yearning for a competitor.

To relieve her anxiety, she lulled herself with her autoharp and one of her songs that wouldn’t make it into the program.

“Whoa… that was beautiful.” The voice of the girl woke her from her reverie.

She hadn’t noticed Olivia had returned since she was so mesmerized with the music, closing her eyes and feeling it with her heart.

Olivia clapped and smiled, even brighter than before.

“Is what you’re going to play on today’s talent show?”

Trixie shook her head. “It’s mine, actually. I don’t think the public would respond as you just did.”

“What are you saying? It sounds terrific… I wish I could write songs too, what a great talent.”

“You’re just being polite… pageant polite.”

“I’m not…” Olivia reached for her hand and Trixie felt butterflies flapping on her stomach, no stage fright related. “Your music is wonderful, I mean it.”

She didn’t want to let go of Olivia’s hand but at that moment, there was a commotion in the dressing room that attracted all stares.

It was Alyssa Edwards, the hostess of the pageant and mother of the current Miss Teen Venus. Trixie had overheard her mother calling her things before but the second she walked in, everyone shut up. She didn’t look content at all.

“Miss Atlanta…” She called. “The color one.”

Violet.

“Violet has been disqualified from today’s competition.” She announced, as serious as she could be about it.

“What?!” Trixie looked around, she was nowhere to be seen.

“There has been an accident during the rehearsal of her talent and since the board and the judges consider it to be too dangerous and the lil’ miss refuses to change it… there’s no other choice but to continue without her.” She explained, reading a piece of paper she had in her hands. “Also, Miss Violet argues there had been some type of sabotage involved…”

The word sabotage made the room explode into an uproar. Alyssa was only the messenger but the women assembled in front of her demanding explanations and repeating how nonsensical the accusation was.

“Ladies, ladies…” She tried to get their attention but finally the only way she could do it was whistling loud enough to leave everyone deaf. “Ladies! I know this is a severe accusation but I promise you we’ll be taking action into the matter and proceeding with the corresponding investigation. This is not the image of any Miss Teen Venus and if the allegations turn to be true there will be a prosecution and punishment of such acts.” She shushed a pageant mom that was about to protest. “Margaret, sit your ass down no one wants to hear it.”

Trixie’s mother looked ecstatic. “Yes!” She celebrated in a lower voice.

Trixie just shook her head.

Violet returned to the dressing room wearing what to Violet was pedestrian clothing to pick her things about half an hour later, she looked done with everything and everyone there. She didn’t even mind the stares and whispers –even during rough times she shone for her confidence-, her mother behind her, however, kept ranting about the level of unprofessionalism showed and how they were going to regret it.

Trixie approached her station when things were cooling down a little.

“Hey, what the fuck happened?”

Violet sighed. “I don’t know, there was something wrong with the baton or the kerosene, this has never happened before.” She crossed her arms on her chest. “My mother thinks there’s a conspiracy going on and I just want to sleep on the plane and cuddle my cat back at home.”

“But like… do you really think someone deliberately tried to mess up with your act?”

“I have no clue but… I never make mistakes and that’s not an exaggeration.” She gathered her things. “If someone’s really sabotaging people you should watch your back.” She put a pair of designer sunglasses on.

“…we don’t need this trashy fifth category contest; Violet has a modeling contract…”

“I have to get my mom out of that argument. See you at the nationals I guess.”

“No «break a leg» or something?”

“You don’t need my help with that.” She waved her hair on her way out.

“Bitch…”

Alyssa called them for the runway rehearsal a couple of minutes after.

“Tracy,” She pointed at Trixie. “you go before Peronka.”

Trixie and Priyanka exchanged a look. To be fair, Priyanka was a newbie but still, it was funny that Alyssa confused their names so badly.

“Olivia, you go next.”

Of course, she remembered her name.

They paraded in their robes with curlers and clips on their hair pretending it was the real thing. They had to smile, wave, stuck their stomachs, stretch their shoulders, elongate their necks and look absolutely fabulous while wearing heels.

Olivia, just like the pageant she had won before, was a natural. She gracefully walked upstairs, sashayed all over the stage, and posed like a professional.

Trixie couldn’t keep her eyes off her to the point Priyanka had to elbow her to move.

“It got you hard this time…” She murmured.

“Shut up, Peronka.”

The first round they all had to wear the same simple v-neckline blue dress –not Trixie’s favorite color to wear- with a sad matching pump but it was just one lap to show their charms while playing a corny song about being Miss Teen Venus and all the qualities that came with it –did anyone else notice that it sounded oddly similar to Dancing Queen? Because Trixie did.

They also had a short presentation and because of that reason, Trixie didn’t let her mother rub vaseline on her teeth before stepping out the stage.

“Good evening, everyone. My name is Trixie Mattel, I’m from Milwaukee, Wisconsin. I enjoy playing the acoustic guitar and composing my own songs. The people who inspire me the most are Michelle Obama, Dolly Parton, and my mom whom I love very much.” She smiled widely.

The judges nodded and wrote something down.

Alyssa in her all glitter, all glam golden gown and perfect huge blonde hair read the card, and after Trixie was done she commented. “Isn’t she lovely, folks?”

Claps from the audience and then her cue to leave the center of the stage and get in line next to Priyanka –always keeping the poise and the smile.

Olivia was next.

“Miss Olivia Lux.” Alyssa presented.

“Good evening, everyone. My name is Olivia, I’m from Buena, New Jersey. The activities I like the most are performing on a stage, playing the piano, and cooking with my mom and my grandmother. The people who inspire me the most are Malala Yousafzai, Kamala Harris, and Beyoncé Knowles.” She giggled.

“Adorable!” Alyssa said into the microphone.

Oh, she was good-good.

It reminded Trixie of the time Pearl went against Valentina, her smile also charmed the judges effortlessly making her sister lost that pageant.

Okay, the first round was done. The talent portion was next and Trixie hadn’t been that nervous before.

There were twenty –well, nineteen- girls competing that night, and some of them were really good. The swimsuit portion was something Trixie just preferred to ignore it happened; she was embarrassingly looking at one particular lady but she did her best pretending she wasn’t –even when her face was probably as red as her swimsuit-. Next were the talents and they went from juggling, opera singing, gymnastics to some awful singing, uncoordinated tap dancing, and some slips and falls -those that fail were often the most entertaining.

After Priyanka’s interpretative dance, it was Trixie’s turn.

She was on her country pink leather bodysuit with her Texan boots and big brushed hair. She held her pink glittery guitar near to her.

Alyssa was about to announce it when she felt a hand over her shoulder.

It was Olivia.

“Hey, I just wanted to wish you good luck. I’m sure you’re going to kill it.”

Trixie squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”

She took a deep breath before walking onto the stage.

“…here she is, Trixie Mattel!”

“Good night, everyone, how are you doing?” She displayed her white teeth. If something, Trixie felt comfortable in front of an audience when she had her guitar with her. “I hope you all know this one… because if you don’t… ”

She knew the chords by heart, as soon as she plucked the strings she got into character, moving her body and dancing around. The audience recognized the first couple of notes of Jolene right away. They could say she foreshadowed it on her presentation so no one should’ve been surprised at all.

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

I’m begging of you please don’t take my man

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

Please don’t take him just because you can

People started clapping along and mouthed the words.

Your beauty is beyond compare

With flaming locks of auburn hair

With ivory skin and eyes of emerald green

She was having a great time and then, the lyrics came out of her mouth and her eyes directed to the girl behind the curtains who was still looking at her performance even when she was next.

Your smile is like a breath of spring

Your voice is soft like summer rain

And I cannot compete with you… Jolene

«Your smile is like a breath of spring» that single sentence could be used to describe Olivia perfectly and Trixie didn’t stop staring at her while pronouncing every word.

The rest of the song went even better, she really engaged with the audience. Trixie was very good at impersonating Dolly but she also liked giving it a little twist here and there, letting her personality shine through the music.

She had done a better job than that other girl that attempted to do These Boots Are Made For Walkin’. People gave her a full standing ovation, that was the best feeling in the world.

She was still shaking with adrenaline post-show when she crossed paths with –probably- her biggest competition of the night.

Olivia, who looked polished and gorgeous on a halter aqua short dress, her hair perfectly tight in an up-do and that blinding smile…

“Trixie you were fantastic! I knew you were going to do a great job but you really gave a show out there.”

“Thank you… break a leg… uh…”

“I’m so nervous.” She peeped over the blonde’s shoulder. A member of the staff was setting Olivia’s keyboard in the meantime Alyssa thanked the pageant sponsors.

“Look, the judges already love you so you just have to do your best out there and… have fun.”

Olivia nodded and hugged Trixie tightly before heading to the main stage.

Trixie was out of breath.

She knew her mother was going to go crazy if she was late back in the dressing room to change to her nightgown but it didn’t matter. She wanted to be there, supporting Olivia just like she did.

“Without further delay, Miss Olivia Lux.” Alyssa announced.

Olivia started playing the notes of For Elise on the keyboard and the audience was already fascinated by it but then, she pressed a couple of buttons that added rhythm to the classical symphony and the song became For Albert by Sarah Jackson-Holman. Olivia’s voice was also lovely and it complimented the song very well. She had an amazing stage presence and that was what made her performance stand up.

She guessed that the line «Your voice is soft like summer rain» also applied to Olivia.

Trixie was bewitched watching her leaving it all on the stage and so were the judges. She was surely scoring high with that interpretation. The audience gave her the second standing ovation of the night, well-earned.

Trixie herself was clapping like her biggest fan.

“That was amazing!” She celebrated the other girl.

“Oh my God… you watched it?”

“Yes, I wouldn’t miss it.”

Olivia was about to cry. “Thank you…”

“Hey, hey… save those tears for the end or you’re going to ruin your makeup.”

“Okay…” She sobbed but her face remained dry and her makeup flawless.

Back in the dressing room, Trixie’s mother wasn’t around which was strange since she was the first to boss Trixie around as soon as she put a step in.

She didn’t pay much attention since something else happened in the contiguous station, number thirteen.

“This cannot be happening…” Olivia was on the verge of a panic attack. “It has to be here somewhere.” She sounded so afflicted it made Trixie feel about whatever was going on before even knowing the details.

“What is it?” She asked.

“Oh, Trixie…” She fell into her arms. “It’s terrible, just terrible…” She was trying her best not to cry, Trixie could tell. “My nightgown has disappeared!”

“What?! No, that can’t be. Where was it last time you saw it?”

“In the hanger with my other dresses… It was here before the talent show I just saw it… My mom went to check on the car just in case but… I swear it was here. You have to believe me.”

Trixie stroked Olivia’s back trying to comfort her, even when she wasn’t the most affectionate person and having this type of contact was difficult to her, with that girl it was innate… she felt in need of protecting her.

“I believe you. We’re going to find it, okay? I promise it. We still thirty minutes before our turn.”

“Thank you… you’re a great friend.”

She smiled at Olivia.

Something shady was going on and Trixie was going to find out what it was.

She went out the hallway; neither of the other girls had seen something so if someone really stole Olivia’s dress it had to be while the girls were performing on the stage. Olivia’s mother did what she could to make time but finally decided to tell Alyssa was for the best, the hostess had cursed in her southern accent but assured the lady that they were also going to look for the emerald green nightgown.

Trixie finally found her mother next to the coffee machine with a cigarette in her hand.

“Mom, Olivia’s dress was stolen from the dressing room, where you around it before the talent show?”

She frowned and shook her head, the cigarette hung on her mouth unlighted. “No clue. Kids should be careful with their things.” She looked at Trixie from head to toe. “Why aren’t you dressing up already?”

“I’ll do it in a second. We’re trying to find her dress or she’s not going to make it to the next round.”

“Why do you care? You should be responsible for yourself and yourself only, Patricia. Otherwise, you’re not going to make it far in life…” She rummaged her purse trying to find a box of matches when it fell from her hands. “Shit…” She cursed.

Trixie kneeled on the floor to pick up the purse when she spotted a bottle of kerosene.

She picked the item and looked at it carefully and then she looked at her mother.

“Isn’t this the thing Violet uses for her baton routine?”

“I don’t know, I use it to clean…”

“Mom… What are you doing with this in your purse?”

“Oh, c’mon, Trixie. Give it to me.” She snatched the bottle from her hands and lighted up her cigarette with the matches. “You didn’t see anything.”

It suddenly made sense.

“You were the one who sabotaged Violet’s act, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh my God… you did.” Trixie was speechless. “Did you steal Olivia’s dress too?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, why would I do any of that?”

“Because you don’t think I can win on my own… You’ve been obstructing the competition all day long.”

“Fine, whatever… yes. I don’t think you can win on your own and these little amateurs cannot beat you… you’re a Mattel, do you have an idea what that name represents? The legacy that’s over your shoulders?”

“You got no shame at all, do you? What’s next? Are you going to throw marbles all over the stage?” Trixie felt like she was about to throw up. “Where’s Olivia’s dress?”

Her mother jeered. “Do you really believe I’m going to tell you? Please… Now go back to the dressing room and put some fucking vaseline on your teeth, I didn’t pay for your braces all those years for you to look like a bitter hag.”

“You’re going to regret this.”

Trixie really wanted to yell something at her but a plan was already forming on her mind and if it worked, her mother was going to get what she deserved.

“Any news?” Olivia asked with a spark of hope in her voice.

Trixie’s heart broke in the spot. She shook her head.

“I’m sorry, Liv. I couldn’t find it.”

“Oh no… Alyssa said if I don’t go out in fifteen minutes they’ll have to continue without me and I’ll be disqualified from the category meaning I won’t win in points…” She buried her face in her hands.

“Not necessarily.” Trixie squeezed her shoulder. “Fortunately for you… and because I come from a great tradition of pageant winners, I’ve learned to always go to a competition with a back-up.” She pulled a bag that was previously hanging next to her.

Olivia’s face lit up. “What is it…? Are you serious?”

Trixie nodded. “You can wear this one… now, obviously we’re not the same size but I think it can fit you just well with a couple of quick adjustments.”

“Oh my goodness… Trixie…” She was trying to find the right words. “You’re the best.” She embraced the girl into a hug.

Trixie beamed. “Don’t worry, it’s going to be alright. Text your mom you have a dress and get ready… I need to get a bottle of hairspray I left in the hallway, okay? I’ll see you behind the stage.”

“Okay…” She nodded. “Right. I’ll do that. Thank you, thank you… I cannot express it enough.”

“Hey, that’s what friends are for.”

Olivia held her hands. “You’re a wonderful person, Trixie Mattel.”

She felt a sting of guilt on her stomach. “I am…”

Trixie’s mother was about to enter into cardiac arrest when she found her daughter who was next in line, not ready.

“Trixie, where the hell were you? It’s almost your turn… where’s your dress?”

“I’m not going to walk on that stage, mom. I don’t want to win, not like this at least. It’s not fair.”

Her mother rolled her eyes. “Don’t start with me, Patricia. Do you have an idea of everything I had to do for you to be here tonight?”

“I do… that’s why I’m out of this competition. I already informed Alyssa I’m out.”

“You did what? Spoiled brat… Where is she? I’m going to find her and tell her you’re completely out of your mind… you’re being irrational and complicated and… you’ll see when we get home.”

Trixie’s mother tried in vain to convince Alyssa but she kept repeating “Barbara, please…”

The girls were starting to get in line and Trixie saw that Olivia was looking around trying to find her, when she did, she was highly surprised.

Olivia looked stunning in that shimmering pink-peach dress, the sequins fell over and sparked whenever she moved, she had added some orange accents to her makeup and an orange lily flower on her hair –Trixie was sure she had seen that flower on a vase at the reception but she wasn’t going to discredit her resourcefulness.

“You look so beautiful…” Trixie admired.

“Thank you… But… where’s your dress? Why aren’t you ready?”

“I dropped out.” She confessed. “This competition wasn’t for me so go ahead and kill it as you did before.”

“Wait- Is this?” Alyssa announced the category. “This is the dress you were supposed to wear, isn’t it?”

“It’s okay… It looks amazing on you anyway.”

“Trixie, no… I can’t do it. I can’t accept it…” The girls started walking.

“Listen, Olivia. I have a very good reason to resign but you don’t. This is a gorgeous gown and one of us should wear it tonight… and I’m glad is you.”

Olivia pouted. “Trixie…”

“No tears… no tears… make me proud, okay?”

Olivia held Trixie’s hand until it was her turn and even then, she didn’t let go until her fingers slid from her hand.

To no one’s shock, Olivia nailed the interview round and she truly wore that gown as if it had been made specifically for her. Trixie’s mother kept grumbling on the back and tried to light up another cigarette in the close environment, finally, a guard escorted her out of the venue while she kept repeating do you know who I am? I’m Miss USA!

But Trixie only had eyes for Olivia and that flashing smile of hers…

When she walked out of the stage, she almost overthrew the blonde.

“Trixie! I think there’s a chance I might win this…”

“You’re going to win this.” She assured.

Trixie knew one or two things about pageants and the way the judges reacted to her was more than just good.

After Alyssa announced the top five and Olivia’s name was among them, she knew she was going to win.

“Ladies, gentlemen, folks… it’s time to announce the results of our pageant of Miss Teen Venus 2021… Could the finalists please step forward?”

Trixie had her fingers crossed.

“For the title of second runner-up we have… Miss Priyanka!”

Everyone cheered when the girl in the red gown waved at them, Priyanka was probably just happy that Alyssa caught her name… finally.

“Our first runner-up is… Miss Crystal!”

The red-haired girl that had won the audience over with her personality waved enthusiastically.

“And now… for the title of Miss Teen Venus… let’s welcome my daughter Tiara, the past winner of this pageant who’s ending her reign tonight.”

Trixie sometimes wondered if no one founded it weird that Alyssa’s daughter was named after an object that was so common across the pageant world when she was also… a pageant queen… maybe it was just her.

The soon-to-be-former Miss Teen Venus looked exquisite in a white gown with her big tiara and flower bouquet.

“And now… the moment we all been waiting for… the judges have made their decision… Our new Miss Teen Venus is…”

Drum roll…

“Miss Olivia Lux!”

Trixie cheered as loud as she could, the pageant theme song started playing –really? No one? It was basically a Dancing Queen rip-off…- and there were glitter and confetti canons… Olivia got her sash, her crown, and her flowers. She was now shedding tears of pure joy and the cameras were flashing almost as much as her smile.

She looked jubilant and Trixie was just happy to witness it.

She had to take pictures with her family, with the judges, with the former winner, with Alyssa… it took a good fifteen minutes before she could leave the stage with the hostess wrapping up the event and saying goodnight to everyone.

Trixie was still shaking behind the curtains when Olivia walked down the stage, she opened her hands to hug the winner but instead, Olivia cupped her face and planted a kiss on her lips. Trixie suddenly felt dizzy and that ninety percent of her body was turned into jelly.

“Sorry… I’ve been wanting to do that for a while… maybe it was rushed and without permission I-”

But before she knew it, Trixie was kissing her back.

“Congratulations… Miss Teen Venus.” She said, breathless.

Olivia grinned and looked at her with pure devotion in her eyes.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“You deserve it.”

“This means I can go to the nationals now!” She wiggled with excitement.

“That’s right.”

“And do you know what it means?” She wrapped her arms around Trixie and pulled her closer again.

“That we’re going to meet again?”

She nodded, her crown almost fell out.

“And that next time… we’re going to compete for real.”

“I’d like that.”

“But until then… may I kiss you again?”

She didn’t need to hear the words to get the response to that question.

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