#gotta do some coding. well. a lot of coding that I left far too late to do dhhdsdshd

[anothermonikan]

yeah professor I can't do my assignment. yeah no my F/O has deemed me too sick to work. yeah she wants me to go back to bed with her immediately. yeah. sorry <3

[draconic-ichor]

The Cat, The Sun, and The Moon

Fnaf

Part 1

Sun/moon x female oc

Warnings: strong language, fire, brief mentions of blood/violence

Summary: Tabby is a Tech that works for Fazbear Entertainment. Late one night, a routine service call spirals into a life and death situation, and she makes a life changing decision…

Feedback appreciated, 18+

It was already past eleven at night when another car pulled into the parking lot of the Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex. Tabby stepped into the night, pulling her employee jacket tighter around her.

She huffed, looking around.

Must have been the only one to answer…she thought.

Late nights like this were not uncommon for her; a mixture of her love of overtime pay mixed in with her vapid social life. When the main system would encounter hiccups, corporate would send out calls to all the techs.

Tonight was, seemingly, no different.

Picking up her overnight bag after forgoing locking her car, she headed inside.

It was already quiet, the far off sounds of the arcade just audible over the hum of countless fluorescent lights. A stark contrast to the building during open hours.

Punching in, Tabby went further into the plex.

The side entrance took her right past the Daycare, always finding time to stop in and say hello to the Daycare animatronic if they weren’t too busy.

That animatronic in particular was not too liked by the staff or general public, that fact and many more causing them to worm a soft spot in her heart.

Pushing open the oversized doors, eyes bombarded with all the over-saturated colors of the rainbow followed by the heavy smell of plastic.

“Sun?!” She called out.

Seconds after the word left her lips the man of the hour burst into view. Sun jumped up, “Hello!”

“Hello!” She smiled, “How are things?”

“Oh swell.” He answered brightly, “We had so so so much fun.”

“It sure looks like it.” Tabby noticed all the toys strewn about still.

“Ah…yes.” He followed her gaze, bouncing over to pick up a large stacking block. He began building one of the many block towers he had about the daycare, “You usually are off on Thursdays.”

“I got called in. Sector three is sending out codes again.” She responded.

“Awfully late.” Sun pointed out, “Doors will be locked till morning soon, sunshine.”

She shrugged, prepared for a long night. “I packed some food and I have my music.” She thumbed through her bag as she spoke.

“Nutritional food?” Sun pressed, placing another large stacking block on the tower.

“….well.” She looked away, red.

Sun put his hands on his hips showily, turning fully toward her in a snap, “Tabitha!”

“Oh the full name.” She giggled, nose crinkling as she did so, “Please Sun, have mercy!” Her voice was thick with mock fear as she tried to stifle her giggling.

He started listing off all the health concerns that came with malnutrition, sounding displeased.

“I’ll be fine.” She waved him off, shifting the strap on her bag into a more comfortable position. Clearing her throat to get the huffy animatronic to pause his mother henning, she regretfully informed, “I really need to go get started on this.”

He drooped a bit but nodded in understanding, gesturing to the rest of the daycare, “Gotta clean.”

“Oh!” She snapped, remembering. Tabby swirled around at the door, calling out, Hey Sun!”

“Yeeeessss?”

“Let Moon know I brought both my headphones and my Bluetooth speaker.” She informed, “Just in case he wants to stop by during the hourly resets.”

“I’ll…let him know.” As soon as the words left his voicebox he paused what he was doing, holding still for a moment. It was a tell of his, when speaking to Moon.

“What did he say?” She asked, leaning on the heavy door.

“Well…” Sun’s rays drooped a bit.

“Even if it’s mean.” She added, expectantly.

“He rudely said you listen to trash.” Sun admitted.

“We’ll see.” She gave a smile, waving goodnight before making her escape.

Sun brightened to wave back, watching her go. His optics stayed trained on the door long after it closed, clutching a discarded toy.

M: Only humoring us…

“Quiet you.” Sun grumbled under his breath.

~

The system was much worse than she expected, settling in to work at one of the large computers. As the hours bled by she realized that she’d been completely alone…

Tabby shifted in her seat, pushing the odd sounds she’d heard to the back of her mind. Something wasn’t right.

Just as she’d get close to fixing one problem, two more systems would slip into a warning mode; files becoming corrupted. A knot started to form in her stomach, the worry of a virus infecting the main system starting to become more and more likely.

Just as she was about to pull her phone out the computer in front of her turned red with a large warning.

FIRE

Simultaneously the alarm started blaring overhead, forcing Tabby to her feet. She took a sharp breath.

Picking up her back she rushed out of the door, lights were flashing overhead as she ran. The security door was ahead of her, Tabby fumbling with her keycard. It swiped but the door wouldn’t budge.

The horrid smell of smoke and burning wire trickled into her senses.

Panic rose as she swiped the card another time, trying to manually open it shortly after.

“No no no no.” She chanted, door sealed.

Her mind was filled with all the warnings about this company, the plethora of reasons why not to work for them. Memories of the lack of employee safety protocols came to the forefront as she banged on the door with closed fists.

The scream for help echoed off the metal walls, the smell of smoke thickening.

Tabby sank to her knees, beating on the door with growing desperation.

She knew this was the only exit…and she there were less than a handful of people still working at the oversized building…

She slipped in and out of consciousness, eyes stinging and throat threatening to close up against the unrelenting smoke.

She blinked up, tears making streaks through the ash on her cheeks, realizing she was being carried. A mess of melting plastic and metal looked back at her. Had she been in better mind she’d be terrified, thrash against the hold. But she wasn’t in better mind, the smoke smothering her.

The animatronic burst through the doors into the night, the sudden oxygen causing the fire to swell forcing them to stumble forward and drop the person they’d be carting. They crawled closer, large hands touching the person’s side.

Still breathing.

Still breathing…

Suddenly realizing they were out of bounds, the animatronic stood, turning back to the doorway, to the flames. Their body was broken, energy waning, connection to the server snapping.

They were suddenly alone, lost, outside.

But also their head was clearer than it had been in a long while. With the loss of the server so came the merciful reprieve from the virus that had been poisoning their every thought.

They fell to their knees, static wheezing from their voice-box.

By the time Tabby awoke, breathing air into her lungs, her savior was unresponsive. She shakily stood, fully illuminated by the fire, stumbling towards the animatronic.

It was Sun? Maybe Moon?

She couldn’t tell, any of the features that would tell them apart burned away. She choked, seeing them in such a state, sinking to her knees to pull their faceplate up.

An optic blinked to life, glowing softly as it looked up to meet her wet gaze.

“Sun?!” She exclaimed, “You’re alive!” She pulled him close, hugging him to her, “It’s ok, it’s ok.”

Their body moved ever so slightly, making a whirring clicking.

Tabby looked up into the fire, hearing the far off blare of sirens. Panic seeped into her bones. Mind racing she looked between the broken animatronic in her arms to the building. It was gone…they would come and find the animatronics in states like this. They would…they would…

She swallowed bile back down her stinging throat.

“We have to go.” She struggled to stand, dragging the animatronic with her. Mind made up, she did everything she could to get them to her car. Placing them in the backseat she heard a staticy sound hiss out, doing her best to sooth, “It’s going to be alright.”

Hopping in the driving seat, her keys still thankfully in her pocket, making their escape before any of the responders made it to the scene.

Street lights blinded her, eyes watery as she blinked away the pain. The realization of exactly what she was doing dawned on her.

Sun? Moon? Both of them were fazbear property, despite how human they seemed. She bit her lip, knowing she couldn’t leave them.

Tabby looked in her rearview mirror. They had shifted, faceplate against one of the back windows, optics looking up into the night sky as she sped towards her apartment.

Stars

They thought, reaching up a bit towards the glass.

~

Getting them into the apartment building was a job in itself, getting them into the elevator another. The animatronic could assist in walking only slightly, leaning heavily on the tech to get them further.

By the time they made it to her apartment, Tabby was exhausted, the taste of copper on her tongue and clothes sweat through.

“Come on.” She helped them inside, sitting them down softly on the living room floor. She coughed, straightening to wobble into the kitchen. Leaning over the sink she filled a glass with shaking hands from the faucet.

Bringing it to her lips she began to tremble with the loss of adrenaline.

What the fuck was she doing?

She almost dropped the glass. The sound of metal drew her attention, rushing back into the main room to find the animatronic curled into the corner.

Tabby came close, sitting beside them on the floor. After a long moment of listening to the whirling of their gears she spoke.

“Is this Sun…or Moon?” She asked gently, watching the other closely.

The animatronic’s ruined face held her gaze for a long moment, mismatched glowing optics wobbling ever so slightly, before tilting down. A rasping hiss escaped their voice box, ending in a garbled mess of static.

She frowned, heart clenching a bit. Reaching out tentatively, she took their hand, drawing it close. The second contact was made, their faceplate lifted to watch intently.

“One tap for Sun, two taps for Moon.” She instructed.

Looking back at her face, the animatronic seemed to think over their answer. Hand twitching to life, it carefully enveloped her knee, cracked fingers sprawling over her leg.

She gulped.

Index finger raising, taping twice before pulling away.

“Moon?” She questioned, finding him looking away. His posture was more hunched, curled in on himself now that she knew.

“You saved me…” she breathed, gratitude mixed heavily with confusion.

His face snapped back to hers. Glowing optics wide.

He gave a small nod.

“I…well I didn’t even think you liked me.” She admitted.

He held her gaze, unmoving.

“I’m going to fix you, ok?” She spoke softly, determination in her voice.

He turned away, curling in on himself against the wall, uncertain.

She bit her lip, standing on wobbly legs, deciding to give them needed space.

She soaked in a warm bath, sucking on a cough drop. Everything hurt, water turning a dark color from a mixture of grime and dried blood. The reality of the situation sank deeper in her bones, the thought of going to the hospital soon to follow.

No…

She had to come up with something, anything. A reason why she wasn’t there at the time of the fire, why she couldn’t have stolen one of the animatronics in a panic.

She closed her eyes, she’d think of something in the morning…

She had to.

[izusun]

*hands you an AU dump to hoard like a little goblin handing a small coin to a dragon*

OKAY so basically: after the doctor's visit where Izuku learns he's quirkless (I hc that they went when he was about five n' a half), Inko does a little bit of research on quirks and more specifically on her son's notebooks, learns that he's even more brilliant at quirk analysis than she originally suspected, and (after looking at some not great quirkless statistics) she instead informs Izuku that no, he's had a quirk all along! It's an analysis quirk!

So she updates the quirk registry, and Izuku goes through his life believing he has an analysis quirk, albeit teased for being a late bloomer, but he still can't shake the insecurity being quirkless for that one and a half year gave him.

He does research on all sorts of things, hacking, knife throwing, first aid, and building his own support gear and takes to all of it like a duck to water. He also does research on UA's policy for support gear in the entrance exam (cause surely they've gotta have a policy for non-offensive quirks like Koda and Hagakure) and finds that he can take one with him if he builds it himself. He goes fuckin bonkers.

Anyways: he trains with Katsuki, cause they're relationship is pretty good since Izuku has a 'quirk.' They both demolish the entrance exam. (Also Izuku kinda swears a lot because Katsuki rubs off on him)

Aizawa doesn't notice a goddamn thing is amiss until the battle trials on the second day (he decides to shadow All Might that day), where when he was using his quirk to silence his students while Izuku was rambling, he just didn't stop, as if he didn't notice anything was wrong. It happens again during the USJ.

So at some point during the sports festival, Nedzu (who is now intrigued because of Aizawa's complaining) invites Izuku into his office during a free period and lets him go ham on analysis, all while Aizawa is secretly there erasing Izuku's 'quirk.' Nedzu invites Izuku to be his personal student (making Aizawa go grey), he says yes, and then Nedzu drops the absolute BOMBSHELL that Izuku is actually quirkless. Cue an existential crisis.

(Also Izuku gets captured at the training camp alongside Katsuki because of his "analysis quirk," wonder how well that goes for him~)

- Goblin anon (sorry this one was kinda long)

GOBLIN?? DUDE???? HOLY SHIT I KNEW YOUR AUS ARE ALWAYS PHENOMENAL BUT THIS RIGHT HERE??? D U D E

i misunderstood the prompt a bit but i genuinely don’t know how to backtrack, so here you go goblin. sorry again o(TヘTo)

ok first of, inko taking on a stronger stance to support her son? love that of her. like, she doesn’t say sorry when izuku turned to look at her and cried that he can’t be like all might. instead, she took him in her arms and assures him that he will be a great hero. at first, of course half of it is lip service because she doesn’t know how to help her quirkless boy be a hero, since, you know, heroes need quirks.. (or do they)

and then she comes across a quirkless self help group which rang many many warning bells in her head. what kind of life do quirkless people live when a google research of them resulted in subsequent pages of results like how to stay safe when quirkless, or how to find jobs when quirkless, or quirkless mortality rates?

she fears for izuku, until she notices that her son’s smart. too smart for his age, but inko thought she’s just being biased. but izuku’s wit is something many people notice, for an instance, when izuku goes to the park to play and his friends’ (the few ones who stayed) parents tell her that her son’s smart for a quirkless person, she realizes that izuku’s wit is far more vast than normal.

then a thought worms into her head but wouldn’t it be bad to lie…but also, no one would be any the wiser.

further pushed by all the statistics she keeps seeing, or the lack thereof, about quirkless people, she makes the decision and pours it to izuku.

izuku who’s far smarter than his age and understood what his mom is asking from him. izuku who already saw the disparities between quirked and quirkless people at the tender age of five. izuku who knows what it means to lie about something as personal as a quirk, but realizes that it’s necessary for him to do so if he wants to live a “normal” life.

so he agrees; he tells inko that he’ll work even harder to sharpen his mind, and to keep expanding his knowledge.

when izuku’s quirk file is officially updated, he watches how his peers and teachers revert back into treating him as izuku. he regains his old friends, but he chose to drop them because he doesn’t want to surround himself with people who thought he was less for being quirkless.

katsuki stayed, surprisingly. katsuki stayed and everyday he kept bothering izuku to “get your quirk already!” katsuki stayed because he can’t fathom that the smartest boy in their class (of course not as smart as him, psshh) is quirkless. deku couldn’t be quirkless. (but if he found out that izuku, indeed, is, i wonder what would happen…)

katsuki was one of the loudest to celebrate when izuku announced that his quirk arrived.

“finally!” he screams and bothers izuku about the semantics of his quirk. he really wasn’t surprised to find out that izuku has an analysis quirk because he thought that nothing else would better be suited for izuku.

he doesn’t know that izuku pours so much of his time into learning and studying, often bypassing basics and intros to take more of the developed courses that are usually recommended for older ages. he doesn’t know that izuku is just a naturally smart kid with the ability to fill the gaps of his young mind with knowledge upon knowledge, storing and stacking them until he feels that he’s laid a sturdy foundation for his fake quirk.

then izuku began threading into different areas. he learns how to get into cyberspaces; hacking into accounts and delving more into how to access private information. he doesn’t thread too close lest he gets caught, but he learns the logistics of maneuvering around the web and burrowing in empty spaces to branch out his own. he creates and designs web algorithms for himself, just so he doesn’t trigger anyone who is looking into the web movements. he hones this and uses it to access more information.

then when he deems it enough, he turns his attention to something more tangible and something more physical. he learns other ways to be a hero; how to fight without a physical quirk, how to win against bigger opponents, how to use analysis quirk in fights.

izuku becomes more than a fake analysis quirk user; he creates it.

mental quirks are hard to describe, more so to compress, thus he creates new definitions of an analysis quirk. what used to be a silly lie is now a tangible fact that izuku believes in. because what makes a quirk? because what makes analysis a quirk? he learns these semantics (often political) and uses it to his advantage.

then he finally threads to hero analysis. at first it were classmates he analyzed; eyes running quickly at their forms and watching with great interest before calculating everything he’s seen and transversing it with the things he learned, and bridges these two facts together to create an analysis. it was a struggle at first: he didn’t know which to put emphasis on until he realizes, he doesn’t need to. he weaves them together and lets his analysis run long and watches how his hobby comes into fruition.

following his classmates are current heroes. these were more tough and more fun, and any of the information is less shared. he doesn’t tell his classmates or teachers about his analyses, only katsuki. and katsuki’s breath hitch every damn time at izuku’s talent quirk.

it is in their second year of middle school that midoriya begins to incorporate the facts with himself to create physical performances. the issues and things he learned through observing are now practiced by himself. he calculates the best way to fight with a body as petite as his, often taking examples from pro-hero hawks and other women heroes. their agilities and physicality suit izuku’s young body; he doesn’t see the merit in punching his way through things when he physically cannot.

so he learns ways to ease his muscles. he learns ballet and gymnastics; lets his muscles contort and mend themselves anew. he finds his balance and roots himself firmly, and learns to calculate his actions so he doesn’t waste his energy. katsuki doesn’t say anything, but he sees izuku’s dance and falls in love.

then in the spring of their third year of middle school, izuku learns how to build and handle weapons.

this is the easiest. izuku learns that weapons aren’t tools, but extensions of his arms and hands. they are not to be revered and not to be depended on because they can fail. instead, he learns to wield weapons as though they are parts of his bodies. he learns how to use swords and often narrowing to wooden sticks that can be picked up anywhere; he learns how to fire guns and how to hide daggers in his uniform. he learns that his body is the best weapon to use and that tools are just arsenal to help him win.

then he learns how to build them.

by summer, izuku begins reaching into UA’s servers. they are hard codes to crack, but not impossible. it takes him five days to access old entrance exam videos. the next day, the videos are snuffed and he is left to try digging deeper into UA.

he fails.

nezu must have caught onto his codes and proceeded to build walls against it.

so he slithers out. but a five minute video of last year’s entrance exam is enough for izuku because he learns two things: one, heroes must defeat villains and two, heroes must save others.

izuku prepares for this. unknowingly, katsuki is taught these same principles. katsuki would grumble and tell him that he knows what heroes must do, but izuku continues to hammer it down to him.

by the time of the UA entrance exam, izuku falls into the ease of having a fake quirk. he passes the written exam with flying colours and although it took three teachers to approve his support gears (present mic had to pull in powerloader, midnight, and hound dog to ensure that the well designed support gears are made by the hero student examinee and not by a support student examinee. majima saw the works and begged nezu to allow izuku to be his student.), izuku still succeeds and dominates the entrance exam.

when the zero pointer was released, he had flung himself towards the girl crushed by debris and yanks her out. he doesn’t waste a modified grenade to explode the zero pointer because through his calculations, doing so would not only create more collateral damage, but would also endanger the examinee in his arms because she still would be caught in the crossfire.

nezu hums in appreciation from the screening room, after all, smart minds always do think alike.

izuku gets a whopping 92 in the physical aspects of the entrance exam.

katsuki gets 85.

aizawa gleefully takes them in.

izuku thinks that no one will ever know of his and inko’s secret, but one look at nezu’s beady eyes and he knew that the stoat knew. it became a game to them, then. a game to see who else would realize.

and while izuku is smart, he doesn’t realize that nezu has basically taken him as his personal student the moment he and izuku had created a bet.

it takes two months for aizawa to figure things out. surprisingly, he is the only one to do so and he only realizes due to the many untimely attacks of LoV.

——

how angst would it be if katsuki realizes that izuku’s always been quirkless during their captivity in the LoV’s hideout.

[y0itsbri]

Falling for You

ballet au one-shot for @gallavichthings 's a.u.gust

summary: dance instructor mickey! ian keeps messing up the lifts with the dancers, and mickey cannot have his girls injured because of this himbo, even if he is hot. he makes ian stay after class to practice on him -- and he swears there's no ulterior motives. but they're so close and his hands are all over him and he can feel his breath and it is so unprofessional but fuck it.

words: 2k

Mickey had a new guy in his class that wasn't doing... well... by any standards. Alright, the dude sucked. Mickey had been a ballet instructor for several years and not once has he met a dancer as uncoordinated and unbalanced as Ian fucking Gallagher.

Somehow, Ian had managed to not only rip the ballet barre off of the goddamn wall in his attempt at a grand plie, fallen flat on his face after pas de chat gone wrong, but he also managed to launch his fellow ballerinas onto the floor instead of the air.

He was a disaster.

Mickey had better shit to do with his time at the studio than patch up his dancers, and studio, after Gallagher's classes. Svetlana's father would have his ass if she got injured on his watch. And Ian being the only guy in their class, there was no way for him not to share the front-and-center spotlight with Svetlana.

Yeah, Mickey wasn't letting Ian any-fucking-where near Svet if he could help it. At least in his current state. Dude was a piece of work.

Mickey figured he would be a lot more upset about all this if Ian's apologetic puppy dog eyes weren't so goddamn convincing.

Fucking Gallagher.

--

"Ayo, Mands! Come help me with this!" Mickey called, echoing in the studio, now nearly empty besides the Milkovich siblings and a six-foot-tall ginger man looking both utterly clueless and utterly terrified. Mickey was utterly hopeless.

Mandy popped in the doorframe, sliding her shoes on but leaving them untied.

"Can't! I got actual shit to do! I don't live and breathe the studio like your sorry ass. No offense, Ian, my brother is great, please stay. Full offense, Mickey, get a fucking life!"

Mickey was left speechless and slightly embarrassed by Mandy's outburst and only managed to flip her off before she was out the door.

"Charming sister you got there," Ian let a quiet laugh slip before schooling his expression at Mickey's lack of amusement.

Mickey sighed and rubbed his hands down the length of his face for a moment. Ian and Mickey held eye contact a bit longer before Mickey abruptly straightened up and clapped his hands together. The noise startled Ian from his own amused trance.

"Alright, Clifford, how do you feel about private lessons for a little bit until you're not tripping over your own feet?"

Ian stepped forward to argue, but, proving Mickey's point, stumbled over the shoes on the floor in front of him. He didn't miss the way that Mickey's mouth quirked up on the side.

"Can't afford extra classes," Ian shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.

"It's on me," Mickey swiped his top lip. He didn't miss the way that Ian's gaze lingered on his mouth,"Kinda need you..." really want you, "to, uh, look good..." as if he doesn't already, fucking red-headed alien-looking motherfucker, "on the floor..." of my bedroom, goddamn it, Mick, get it together! "the, uh, dance floor."

Ian paused, considering the way that Mickey was stumbling over his words in a way that one might call endearing, another might call the-worst-fucking-experience-of-his-life.

"I'll do it."

Do me. Seriously, go drink some water, oh my god.

Mickey literally took a sip from his water bottle, hoping that it would at least calm his nerves. He was a professional!

He crossed his arms over his chest. "You free after class?" A pause, "To work on some skills, I mean."

"It's a date," Ian smirked, leaning down to pick up his shoes from the ground in front of him. By the time he was upright again, Mickey had already started walking away, but the blush on his cheeks and the back of his neck could be spotted from a mile away. He was utterly fucked.

--

Mickey yawned and got up from his stretching position on the floor. He walked over to the stereo, systematically knocking his dancer's feet on his way over until they were all turned out and pointed.

"No Orange Boy today?" Svetlana asked, meeting Mickey's eyes with a challenging stare.

Mickey ignored the chorus of "He's so hot!" "Have you seen his arms?" and "Ian's the nicest!" from the rest of the girls.

Svetlana raised her eyebrow in question and Mickey's defenses flew out the window. This goddamn power dynamic was going to be the death of him.

"I put him on private lessons until he's no longer a disruption to the class," he shrugged.

"Aww," one brunette pouted.

"Disruption to class or disruption to tiny bulge in your pants?" Svetlana smirked, earning some scandalized gasps from the other dancers.

Mickey flipped her off, "The fucker made me take out a greater insurance policy with all his accidents, don't be fucking absurd."

A blonde nodded understandingly from the back of the class, "My ankle is still a little funky from the last lift we tried."

Mickey held his arms out in a display of I-told-you-so and Svetlana rolled her eyes.

"Great!" Mickey clapped his hands together, earning the full attention of his class as they hurried to their feet, "Now that all the hot drama is outta the air, let's do a quick warm up combo across the floor. Chasse step pas de bourree double pirouette step arabesque, in 5, 6, 7, 8..."

--

Ian had been waiting outside the studio for the last ten minutes of class, more-so watching his instructor shift around than paying attention to what the dancers were actually doing. That's probably what got him into his current predicament, and he couldn't decide whether that was a curse or a blessing. Mickey's arms flexed as he pointed across the room to call out someone's weak spot.

Yup, it was a blessing.

Oh shit, Mickey was looking his way. Was this a double sided mirror? No, of course not. Why would there be a double sided mirror? Oh, Mickey was definitely staring at him. Fuck. Wait, did he just wink? No way, he must've just blinked. With one eye. Yeah, totally normal. Nothing to overthink, Ian.

Get it together!

--

Mickey dismissed his class five minutes early and it had nothing to do with the Jolly Ginger Giant standing outside his studio.

While most of his dancers wordlessly accepted the easy out, Svetlana stayed back to taunt. "Have fun with private lessons," she sneered, jerking off an invisible cock.

"Choke on it," Mickey retorted tossing her warm-up jacket at her face, which she swiftly caught.

Svetlana turned and made a show of looking Ian up and down, his cheeks turning pink under her intense gaze. She faced Mickey head on, "You will be vegetable stew by the time this man is done with you."

The fuck does that mean?

Sometimes Mickey thought that Svetlana spoke in riddles just to mess with him. He blamed it on the Russian accent, never mind he was part Ukrainian himself. The languages were similar, but not identical, fuck you very much.

But, damn, forget that, Gallagher looked good. He was wearing his usual white tank top and grey sweatpants, but Mickey never got the opportunity to openly ogle in class. Not that that was what he was doing now.

Ian returned the long look appreciatively before stepping closer and Mickey snapped back into professionalism, well as far as professionalism goes, Milkovich-style.

He turned his back on the bane of his pathetic existence and snapped a quick but polite, "Get your shoes on and we can get started."

"Oh, right."

That seemed to be enough to get the gears in Ian's head going again as he dropped his bag to the floor, echoing in the truly empty studio, and dropping down onto the floor himself to secure his ballet shoes, which may as well be clown shoes for as big as his feet were. Mickey fit into the same brand as the girls, but he had to order special for Gallagher.

"Thanks for doing this, Mickey."

Mickey. The way that this man said his name was making him feel all sorts of flustered that he would most definitely deny.

"Mandy said you don't usually make exceptions."

"Gotta catch you up to speed or you're gonna be dancing with the 5 year-olds, man."

Ian tilted his head considering.

Mickey frowned, "Don't do it."

Ian smirked and Mickey had to look away as a grin and blush creeped up on his own face.

"Alright, so we'll start you off with the basics."

Mickey went through their normal class routine, but broke it down slowly, pausing to explain certain positions in details he couldn't afford to spend time with in class, specifically how not to fall. It should have been fairly obvious in his opinion, but Ian still managed somehow. The first few times, he was on the floor before Mickey even knew he was going down.

But the third, Mickey made a mistake. Mickey instinctively reached out to catch him.

As soon as he realized where his hands were, he pulled them off like he'd been burned, which he may have well been. He pulled his gaze to his feet, studying the floor while he composed himself.

"Mickey," Ian waited until he looked up, and then he spoke so quietly, "You can touch me."

And what made things worse was that Ian's dazzling eyes left little to the imagination. They both knew where this was going, and the moment was too intense too quick. The longer their eyes held, the hotter Mickey felt his neck grow.

"Ya know," Ian stepped closer. "To fix my positions..."

Mickey swallowed, "Uh, I think we're done for today."

He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. He never meant them to begin with. But if Ian stayed any longer, Mickey was going to climb him like a tree and that really wasn't under his personal code of professionalism, no matter how loose those terms may be to begin with. It was getting late anyways, he reasoned with himself.

"What about the lifts? That's the important part, right?" Ian questioned, eyes pleading like he would die without this one skill being taught to him by his oh-so-unprofessional instructor.

Mickey sighed. Ya know what? Fuck it.

Mickey sauntered over to Ian, pressed his back to Ian's front, and grabbed one of Ian's massive hands and placed it on his own waist.

Ian gave an experimental squeeze and Mickey softened in his grip.

Ridiculous.

"We're not doing the lift are we?" Ian murmured breathily, hot air making the hairs on the back of Mickey's neck tingle.

"What do you think, Firecrotch?" Mickey pushed his weight back into Ian's chest, which would be the second mistake of the day.

Ian toppled over backwards, landing with a painful sounding thud and sending Mickey down on top of him before he rolled off the the side with a groan.

Ian started laughing and Mickey was concerned. Was this idiot actually fucking concussed this time? He wasn't sure how he would explain this to his insurance company.

Mickey straddled Ian's lap, gently slapping his face, "Are you good, man? Alive?"

"Never better." Ian was still smiling like an absolute goof.

Mickey raised an eyebrow in concern.

"Seriously, I just can't play things cool," Ian raised his hips to grind against Mickey's ass, "Obviously."

"You're an idiot," Mickey rolled his eyes, and all Ian could do was grin and reach up towards Mickey's neck, pulling his down until their lips almost touched, sharing breaths and excitement.

"Maybe," another breath, "But I still got you to fall for me."

It was Mickey's turn to laugh, more of a raspy exhale than anything. His "fuck you" was almost lost between them as they fell together at last.

(side note: this was the lift that they were going to do, so i feel like the hand on the waist makes sense -- gotta have a visual lmao)

[just-here-for-the-moment]

Paloma, Part II

Series Masterlist - Part I - Part II

Word count: 8900+

Rating: explicit, 18+ only

Outline: Statesman!Frankie "Catfish" Morales, Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels, and "You" (OC cis/het female reader, Statesman research analyst, code name “Paloma”; age 26; reader is “blank canvas”/no physical description/no use of “Y/N”)

Warnings: “plot bloat” (trying to get Paloma where she needs to go); fully legal age gap; curse words; alcohol; Whiskey acting like a bastard; a little sprinkling of angst; open-mouth kissing; protected P/V sex; some extra-soft!Frankie

On your third Monday at Statesman New York you led a planning meeting that should have been easy. Jack Daniels made it anything but.

The worst part was that you hadn't even been properly introduced yet. Where Champ had rolled out the red carpet for you at Louisville HQ, Whiskey was a phantom, too busy to meet with you during your first couple of weeks. That made what happened in the meeting even more humiliating.

You started by outlining the research that your team had gathered, the analysis that they had carefully done, and presented the options and outcomes. When you were done, Whiskey threw his copy of your report down on the table and said, "That's horseshit."

You felt your face heat with embarrassment, but you tried to hold your ground. "Excuse me?"

Jack waved his fingers dismissively, "That's alright, I'll excuse you. This isn't the kind of work I expected from our new 'hotshot' team lead. Why isn't there information about the facilities we'll be targeting?"

"There are no 'facilities' at this location, Agent. It's a one-and-done for a drop and extract. There's nothing to raid, nothing to seize, and nothing to see."

"Really?" He arched one eyebrow at you and rubbed his thumb over his lower lip. The sheer cockiness of it made you burn with irritation. "So how come the information we got last Friday tells us that there's a production facility the next block over? You really gonna send our agents halfway around the world without botherin' to target the facility next door?"

You froze. Was he correct? That didn't seem possible. How had your team missed that? You held his gaze with as much assertiveness as you could muster, trying to match his attitude so that you wouldn't appear to be weak. "I don't have information about any facilities."

He cracked a smirk, "Well then, you're not very good at your job, are you darlin'?"

You swallowed hard and tried not to let tears rise. How dare he talk down to you? What the hell was his problem? Another agent spoke up, saying that if new information had come in recently, then you could review it and reconvene later to discuss its impact. The meeting disbanded.

You felt like you had been sucker-punched, and you weren't sure if you wanted to flee to your office, or sit gripping the edge of the table and glare Whiskey down. You opted to stay, waiting for everyone else to file out. Finally it was just you and Whiskey left, sitting at the big conference table and having some kind of a stubborn staring contest. This was not how you wanted to start your new job.

"What the fuck is your problem with me?" You gritted the question out and held his gaze. You knew that cursing at a senior agent, not to mention the one who was the face of Statesman Whiskey and de facto head of the New York office, probably wasn't the wisest way to start your tenure... but neither was backing down and letting him roll right over you.

"Nothin' personal, darlin', but I can't let you give my agents incorrect or missing information. Your team should have known about the facilities at this location."

"It sure felt personal, Agent Whiskey. If you have a problem with my work, you take it up with me privately. I don't mind admitting when I've made a mistake, but it's shitty to treat people like that in front of others." You glared at him, trying to look as fierce as you could.

He finally looked away from you, and muttered something that might have been an apology.

"What's that, Agent Whiskey? I didn't quite hear you."

"I said, 'I'm sorry.' You're right. That was unfair of me."

Before you could stop yourself, you found acid on your tongue. "Well, well, the great Agent Whiskey lowers himself to apologize. No wonder you flash that charm at everything on two legs. Your manners can't stand on their own, can they?"

If you hadn't been so focused on gathering up your paperwork, you would have seen a flicker of hurt cross his face. Instead you stomped out of the conference room and thanked the stars that you hadn't cried. By the time you got back to your office, a cold ball of regret was starting to form just below your ribs. You prided yourself on being able to work effectively with everyone, and you were extremely proud of your track record at Statesman so far. Why hadn't you been less confrontational, or tried to smooth things over? Why had you jumped straight to a pissing contest?

---

"God, what an asshole!"

"I told you, he's kind of a lot to take." Ginger's voice on the other end of the phone came through calm and sweet, as she always was.

You spun your chair to lean back and stare up at the ceiling of your office, trying to keep tears from forming. "Ugh, he's such a colossal jackass. I cannot believe he tried to undermine me like that in the meeting. I could have strangled him!"

"Just stay out of his way as much as you can. I'm sure he'll calm down once he sees what kind of work your team produces. You're doing great."

"Yeah, well... not so great actually. It turns out he was right. There was a report on a facility that came through very late on Friday, and one of my analysts went home sick, so I didn't get it in time for the meeting. That's the worst part: he was right, the bastard."

"Oh, Paloma. I'm so sorry. I'm sure that stung."

You let out a deep sigh. "I'll be okay. I just hope I get the chance to catch him making a mistake, and then I'll shove it in his stupid face. Make him lap it up with that ridiculous mustache of his."

Ginger giggled. "As much as I'd like to imagine that with you, I gotta run. Call me later? I miss you!"

"I miss you, too. 'Bye."

You hung up and spun your chair around, coming face to face with the sight of Agent Whiskey leaning in your office doorway. His arms were crossed casually, one foot propped over the other, looking like he could stand there all day. Your stomach leapt into your throat and then dropped down to your shoes. How much had he heard?

"Oh, kill me now," you breathed.

"Not just yet, darlin’. We have work to do." He popped up from his perch in the doorway and took a seat in one of your visitors chairs.

"How can I help you?" You kept your tone respectful, although it verged on frosty.

"Well, we need to revise the mission plan to include the new intelligence. Then we need to have a talk about civility."

You arched an eyebrow. "Oh, civility? I see. What kind of ‘civility’ did you have in mind, Agent Whiskey?"

"Well, for one, you can call me Jack. And for two, I was comin’ down here to apologize again, but apparently there's something you'd like to shove in my face and have me lap up with my ridiculous mustache?" He twitched one eyebrow up, looking smug and amused by the double entendre.

You closed your eyes and suppressed a groan. Maybe this was a hallucination and you were still in bed at home. Or maybe you hadn't actually left Louisville. You cracked one eyelid open, finding Whiskey’s deep brown eyes still on you. You decided to try to be the bigger person and smooth things over.

"I'm sorry. I was venting to a friend, and obviously that wasn't intended for your ears."

"Well now, I’m a big boy. I've heard worse and survived."

"I apologize. I let myself get irritated by your behavior in the meeting. It wasn't professional, and it won't happen again."

"Well, for my part, if I think you've made an error, I'll be sure to talk with you privately instead of calling you out in front of the team. Deal?" He stuck one broad, well-manicured hand out to shake.

You reached your own out somewhat reluctantly, then warmed to it, feeling how large and soft his hand was when it wrapped around your fingers. "Deal."

He gave your hand one final squeeze. An involuntary tingle ran up your arm, and you found yourself wondering whether he was as talented with his hands as he was smart with his mouth. Oh god, what was wrong with you?

You cleared your throat and pulled your hand away, trying not to jerk it back like he’d burned you.

“I’ll, um, I’ll have my team revise the mission plan to include the new intelligence, and then we’ll reconvene tomorrow. Sound good?”

“Sounds fine, darlin’.” He winked at you and you felt something flutter just below your navel.

---

Despite the conciliatory conversation with Whiskey, you still felt awkward and hurt, not to mention confused by some of the warmer feelings that had popped up uninvited. You spent the next six weeks trying to fly low and avoid Whiskey. You sent your senior analyst as your replacement for every meeting that you possibly could, and when you did have to attend them you timed your entrances and exits so that you wouldn't be in the conference room any longer than necessary. You transferred reports to Whiskey's office electronically, and when a hand-delivery was required you sent whoever happened to be closest to you. It worked great. You hadn't said more than "hello" and "goodbye" to Whiskey in so long, you were starting to feel like maybe you had escaped the awkwardness, the horrific start to your time in New York. It felt like a bad dream from another era.

One late Thursday afternoon, your plan fell apart. You got a request from Whiskey's assistant for a hard-copy file, and the entire office suite was empty. Each of your team members was off doing other things or had left early. You avoided it as long as you could, running to the ladies room to pee and then lingering in the hallway outside your office, just in case someone from your staff came back. After 10 long minutes you realized that you were "it" and that nobody was going to come save you. You sighed and trudged to the elevator. It seemed to move too quickly, depositing you at Whiskey's floor in no time flat.

As you rounded the corner you saw that Whiskey's assistant was gathering her things to leave for the day. After one too many disasters with "pretty young things," Champ had put his foot down and assigned someone to Whiskey who would keep him on the straight and narrow. Mary was what you called a "motherly hard-ass," while Ginger called her a “saint.” Mary had worked for Statesman almost as long as Champ, and she knew her stuff inside and out. Most importantly, she was completely immune to Whiskey's flirtations. He had tried once or twice to charm her, but after finding that her warm exterior concealed a brick wall of professionalism and a razor-sharp wit, he had relented.

"Hi Mary!" You kept your voice cheerful and light, trying to hide the twisting in your gut. "Here's the file he requested."

"Hi Paloma, you can go on in." Mary smiled wryly, "He actually asked to see you if you showed up. Sorry, kiddo, you're a lamb to the slaughter." She patted your back in sympathy.

Your shoulders slumped, "Ugh." Just as you were about to air your disgust in stronger words, Whiskey's door opened.

"Paloma! Glad to see you, darlin'. Come on in."

You shot Mary one last look, pleading for reprieve. She patted your shoulder and bid Whiskey a good night.

You forced your legs to move, and when you got inside Whiskey's office you perched on the edge of the sofa in the visitors area. Whiskey preferred to entertain visitors away from his desk, so he had a cozy corner of the office set up with two large chairs, a coffee table, and a black leather sofa that seemed to take up half the room.

You tossed the file on the table and spoke in a monotone that bordered on rude. "Brought you the file. Need anything else?"

Whiskey gestured to the bar cart. "Can I get you a drink, darlin'?"

"No." You shook your head. "But thank you."

Whiskey shrugged and poured himself something amber in a small glass. You couldn't take your eyes off his hands as they deftly maneuvered around the glassware and ice bucket. They reminded you a little of Frankie's hands: strong and thick, sure and precise in their movements. But where Frankie's hands were warm, work-worn and calloused, Whiskey's were primped and clean, just as manicured as his sharply tailored suits and slick mustache. You bit the inside of your lip to bring yourself back to reality before your brain could wander any farther down the path of what Whiskey's hands could do.

You focused your gaze on the file on the coffee table and waited. Whiskey settled himself into the big chair closest to your end of the couch.

"Paloma, darlin'. Thanks for coming up."

You cringed internally and tried to screw up the courage to ask him to just call you Paloma. The nickname of "darlin'" was starting to grate. For a moment you weren't sure if it was because you found it unprofessional or because you wanted to hear it more. Shit. What was wrong with you?

"What can I do for you, Agent Whiskey?"

"Please, call me Jack."

"What can I do for you?" You refused to give in, drawing your mental line in the sand. You could have a whole conversation with him without calling him Jack, couldn't you?

"Well now, I was hoping we could finally chat a bit - outside of a meeting, that is. You've been here almost two months and I'm sorry that I haven't taken the time to get to know you better." He winked.

You suppressed an eye roll and pursed your lips. "What would you like to know?"

You weren't going to make this easy for him, you decided. If he wanted information beyond your resume, or even a friendly conversation, he would have to work for it. You weren't simply going to open up like a flower under the sunshine of his charm.

"Well, I understand you're from Louisville. Beautiful place." He leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees, trying to close the space between you.

"Yes." You scooted all the way to the back of the sofa and crossed your arms, somewhat amused at the difficulty you were giving him. He hadn't expressed any displeasure yet, but you were certain that he was going to get frustrated sooner or later.

"Well, darlin' I had no idea that we were growin' them so smart down there, not to mention so pretty. If I'd known, I would have lured you up here to the big city a lot sooner." He looked like he was about to wink again, or try to devour you.

"Is that so?" God, he was really buttering you up, wasn't he? You crossed one leg over the other, keeping your arms crossed over your chest for good measure.

"Yes, it is. I was awfully impressed by your analysis on the Rex Smith case ‘bout a year ago. I had no clue there were that many shell companies in the mix. I would've thought three, maybe four, tops. But you found thirteen!"

Your jaw dropped a little at that. Not only had he seen your work on your first case as Assistant Director in Louisville, but he had reviewed the case file thoroughly, remembered such a tiny detail, and was also giving you credit? You were starting to think that you had underestimated Agent Whiskey. His charm and sass were legendary, but you now realized that those traits didn’t indicate anything missing in the brains department.

He smirked at your reaction and teased you gently. "Better watch that mouth, darlin'. You're liable to catch a few flies if you don't close it."

Goddamn him. You closed your mouth and tried not to sulk. You didn't like making mistakes, especially not such idiotic ones. If you weren't careful, he was going to knock you on your ass.

"Can I get you that drink now, darlin'?"

"No, thank you. I need to get going." You uncrossed your legs and stood up. Whiskey stood at the same time, and you found yourself entirely too close to him, your bodies just inches apart as you tried to negotiate your exit from the seating area. Something warm that smelled like cedar and smoky bourbon was emanating off of him, and you were certain it was from the expensive side of the cologne department. His coffee-brown eyes held yours, and you caught yourself staring at him while your brain sent you panicky messages to, “Move! Speak! Leave!”

Whiskey let the moment hang, seeming to enjoy every second that passed like torture for you. His eyes were twinkling so hard you thought you saw sparks. You heard yourself exhale a breath that was far more shaky than you would have preferred. He put his hand out to shake yours, and you found yourself imagining what would happen if you bypassed the polite gesture and wrapped your arms and legs around him, knocked him to the floor and kissed that stupid mustache right off his face.

Instead, you reached out to shake his hand and accidentally brushed the front of his hip, just an inch from his crotch.

"Oh my GOD! That was an accident. I'm so sorry, I'm sorry!" You scrunched your eyes closed and buried your face in your hands. Mortification consumed you as you heard Whiskey guffaw. You felt like you were going to die of embarrassment, and you were pissed off that it wasn't a real possibility. Death would have been extremely welcome.

Whiskey put his hands on your shoulders and squeezed. His laughter died down to a soft wheeze. "Hey, look at me."

You dared a glance through your fingers. His eyes twinkled and his white teeth still showed in a wide smile. "I'm sorry I laughed, I know it was an accident. You weren't trying to take advantage."

You moaned and Whiskey chuckled again. "It's alright, darlin'. You didn't break anything."

“Argh! I’m so sorry. That’s the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done.”

“It’s okay, I didn’t think anything of it.” He pulled you gently toward him, and you did something you never imagined possible: you let him wrap you into a hug.

“I’ll forget it if you will, darlin’.” His deep voice rumbled against your body and you felt yourself melting a little. Tears of embarrassment pricked at your eyes.

You sniffed and pulled back. Whiskey let you go, but kept one hand on your elbow. He looked at you warmly and smiled. “Really, darlin’. Don’t think anything of it.”

You found yourself staring into his dark brown eyes, warm and shiny with humor. The mood shifted almost imperceptibly, turning him magnetic. Something in you snapped and you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.

Whiskey hummed a surprised noise against your lips for a moment, then opened his mouth to let you in. His mustache was softer than it looked, and hardly tickled at all as you wrestled each other for satisfaction. You found yourself tumbling down to the couch. Whiskey lay over you with one strong arm wrapped around your lower back, keeping you pressed close against him. His lips and tongue were eager and searching, and you responded in kind, nibbling his plush lower lip and flicking your tongue across the back of his top teeth. The taste of his liquor intermingled with the scent of his cologne, and it sent your senses reeling. He tasted and smelled and felt so good, and you wanted to stay there and drink him in forever.

Your lips parted from Whiskey’s and you took a gulp of air, looking into his brown-black eyes above you. The inrush of oxygen kicked your brain into gear and you felt cold; both from the absence of Whiskey's mouth on yours and from the dose of harsh reality that washed over you. This was wrong... wasn't it? As good as it felt, it wasn't right to make out with the boss in his office, after hours, on a couch for God's sake. What the hell were you thinking?

"Oh, shit!" You shoved Whiskey's shoulders up and away, rolling him toward the back of the couch as you slithered out from underneath him. You landed on the floor, then crouched and stood up. Whiskey shifted on the sofa, turning to lay face up on the plush leather and folding his arms behind his head. His grin hovered somewhere between 'Cheshire cat' and 'kid let loose in a candy store.' You groaned at the sight while irritation and the desire to flop back down on top of him fought equally within you.

"Well now, darlin'. You need to be off somewhere?"

"Yes. This was not a good idea." You waved your hands in front of you as if you were trying to erase a blackboard. "I think I need to leave."

"Feel free to come back anytime, darlin'. I'll be right here."

You took three swift steps toward the door and then spun to face him. "I need you to stop calling me 'darlin''. My name here is Paloma."

He cocked one eyebrow at you as you continued. "And another thing, Agent Whiskey: this never happened."

Before he could respond you yanked his office door open and jogged to the elevator. What the hell was wrong with you?

---

"Ginger, you have got to help me. I don't know what's wrong with me." You shuddered out a breath as you kicked your shoes off and sat down at your kitchen table. At your elbow was the biggest drink you could pour without causing a hangover.

"Are you okay? What happened?"

You gulped. "I kissed him."

"What?! Why?"

"I don't know! I just... I was in his office and he was standing really close to me and then I went to go shake his hand but I accidentally touched his crotch and..." you trailed off as Ginger laughed. "It's not funny, it's embarrassing!"

She giggled at you. "That sounds kind of funny. You'll laugh about it later."

"I won't. I wanted to die of embarrassment, but then he was so nice about it and he was looking at me softly and I just- I kissed him! What the hell is wrong with me?"

"Try not to worry too much. You're not the first lady to make that mistake and you won't be the last. He'll forget about you as soon as someone else catches his eye.”

"Yeah, I know." You weren't sure if being one in a long string of women made you feel better or worse.

"… although it does seem like you have a ‘type’ now.”

“What?!”

“Well he is tall, dark, and handsome. If he weren’t such a jackass I’d say he reminds me of Frankie.”

“Oh, hell no. That is not a fair comparison. They’re nothing alike.”

“You’re right, Frankie was a gem. Listen, just avoid Whiskey and keep your eyes on your work. He'll forget about you and it'll be like it never happened. And as irritating as he is, I know he's not a gossip. Don't worry, this won't get around."

You threw back your head and let out a long breath. "Okay. You're right. All I have to do is my job."

"That's right. And you're really good at your job, Pal. Don't let this derail you, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks, Gin. I appreciate it."

"No problem. Listen, I have to go, but I wanted to tell you that I’ll be coming to New York next week. I have to do some training with, uh, a consultant. And when I’m done we can have a girl’s dinner out, okay? Just try to have a good weekend."

"Thanks, I will. You too."

You sighed and finished your drink. The idea of calling in sick tomorrow floated up, and you seriously considered it. But you had already spent six weeks avoiding Whiskey, and your integrity wouldn’t let you call out without a good reason. You could make it one day until the weekend, right?

---

You awoke Friday morning with a pounding headache and a cotton-dry mouth. You were dreading going to work, but duty called. You showered and dressed as slow as you dared, and found yourself dragging into the office only 15 minutes late. Fortunately, there was enough work to keep you distracted, and at your 10:00 department heads meeting you found out that Whiskey was out of the office for the day. Relief washed over you, and you suddenly felt lighter. You could survive until the weekend without worrying.

The rest of your day was uneventful until around 4:00, when an assistant brought you a vase of fresh flowers that had been delivered to reception. You frowned and looked for a card. The arrangement was beautiful, featuring dark yellow daisy-shaped flowers with fuzzy chocolate brown centers, and pinky-purple blooms shaped like bottle brushes. Both types looked oddly familiar. You leaned closer to examine them as your brain twisted in confusion. Were those...? No way... orange coneflowers and dense blazing stars? Who the heck would send you an arrangement of Kentucky wildflowers? Mom? It wasn't your birthday yet.

You felt an icy ball of lead punch you in the stomach as you opened the notecard: "Even though nothing happened, I had a hell of a time. Hope to see you again. -Jack"

That motherfucker.

Just as you were about to sweep the flowers into the trash, there was a heavy knock on your doorway. You looked up, and your emotions spun from anger to elation so fast you almost threw up. Frankie stood in your doorway, looking soft and rumpled in a plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his sweet curls escaping the same well-loved baseball cap he always wore.

"Frankie!?" You leapt out of your chair and practically ran to him. He swept you up in a bear hug and pulled you six inches off the ground. "Oh my God, Frankie, I'm so glad to see you!"

"Hey, Paloma. I missed you. How's the big promotion? They make you head of the New York office yet?" His deep voice rumbled into your ear softly, and you laughed with joy. You never wanted to let go.

Frankie set you down and broke the embrace, and you immediately grabbed his hand and guided him to one of your visitors chairs. You took a seat in the chair next to him, turning it to face him and get as close as you dared without looking too desperate.

"Oh my gosh, what are you doing here?"

"I'm doing a quick consulting job for Statesman, helping Ginger train a few folks for an extraction. I have to work on the project Monday and Tuesday, and then I'll be in town until Saturday as a tourist. I took the whole week off, so I don't need to be back in Florida until next Sunday." He smiled broadly at you.

You felt your own face split into a wide grin. "Do you need a tour guide? I've been here two whole months. I can show you my favorite coffee shop and we could go to a few museums."

He smiled warmly back at you, and you felt like you had been wrapped in the world's softest blanket. "I'd like that. Statesman gave me an apartment for the week. Should be close by, if you don't mind showing me where it is?" He pulled a slip of paper out of his wallet and read the address.

You threw your head back and cackled.

"What's so funny?"

"That's my apartment! Statesman owns a few units in the same building." You grabbed the piece of paper from his hand to read the apartment number. "You're literally one floor below me for the week."

He grinned. "Well, shit. If I'd known that, I would’ve just told them to let me bunk with you."

You frowned and handed the paper back. "Wouldn't your girlfriend be upset with that?"

Frankie looked down at his shoes. "She's, uh, not my girlfriend anymore. We broke up."

"Oh, Catfish. I'm so sorry." You reached out to squeeze his forearm, and the feel of his warm skin over ropey muscles made you tingle. You vividly remembered how much you used to love grabbing those forearms as he pounded into you, how good they felt wrapped around you in the shower, how strong and safe Frankie felt at all times. You pulled your hand back and cleared your throat.

Frankie stood. "Listen, I gotta take care of a few things this afternoon, but can we go to dinner later? Nothing fancy, if you know anyplace I can go dressed like this," he gestured to his worn jeans and work boots.

"Unless, uh,” he pointed to the flowers on your desk. “Is there a boyfriend who would be mad if I took you out?"

You stood and smiled, biting your lip. "No. There’s no boyfriend, and I'd love to go to dinner. I'll come down to your apartment and pick you up at 7:00? 7:30?"

"Seven is perfect." He hugged you, and the smell of him spun you right back to Louisville. Frankie smelled like clean cotton and hard work, with a faint whiff of mechanic's grease just under the scent of his laundry soap and Old Spice deodorant. You used to tease Frankie about his habit of buying the same deodorant that he’d been using since junior high, but he always swatted you away with a, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” Now the scent of it made you want to buy every package in the world and always have the smell around you.

When you broke the embrace it was so hard to let go, to not lean in for a kiss like you used to. He seemed to feel it, too, lingering just a moment longer with his arms wrapped around you and smiling wistfully as you finally pulled apart. You wanted to stay in his arms for hours, maybe even stow away on his flight back to Florida.

“I’ll see you at seven, Paloma.”

You felt your goofy grin reappear. “Okay. I’m so glad you’re here, Catfish.”

---

The hours until dinner crawled, and you spent more time than you thought wise trying to get ready. You showered and put on your nicest outfit, which was really just the all-black, most-recently-purchased version of your normal work clothes. Your job at Statesman didn’t call for anything very dressy, so you hadn’t expanded your wardrobe beyond work staples. Still, you spent entirely too long arranging your hair, sweeping it one way and then the other, trying to figure out what jewelry to wear, and then changing your hair again for the third time. You were contemplating another shoe change when your phone alarm went off, warning you that it was five minutes to 7:00. Oh, well, too late to change anything now. You brushed your teeth frantically and hoped Frankie wouldn’t care.

You floated down the stairwell and found yourself grinning idiotically as you rapped at Frankie’s door. He opened it looking exactly the same as he had at 4:00 that afternoon, and you chastised yourself internally for trying to dress up. Your irritation turned to pride, however, when Frankie looked you up and down with a low whistle.

“Jeez, Paloma, you look fantastic. Should I change?” He looked worried.

“No, you look fine! We’re not going anywhere fancy, I promise. I don’t know why I changed clothes, it was silly.”

“No, you look amazing.” He opened his arms for a hug. You felt warmth rush to your face as you leaned in. Frankie was always so eager to please and to compliment you, to make you feel good. You had missed him so much.

The walk to dinner was easy, conversation bouncing between the two of you as you made your way to the restaurant. Frankie filled you in on everything going on in Florida, about his friends and his parents and his job. You spoke enthusiastically about your new position and how much you loved New York. You decided not to share information about either one of your run-ins with Agent Whiskey.

Dinner passed in a swirl of giggles and wine and good food. Frankie made you laugh so hard you almost choked twice, and before you knew it, nearly three hours had passed.

“Frankie, I think the restaurant is going to kick us out if we don’t scoot soon. Do you want to go walk around a little bit?”

He drained his water glass and nodded. “Yeah, where to?”

“We can window shop down the street, and there’s a cute little park nearby.” You arched one eyebrow at him, “Wanna go play on the swings?”

He laughed and nodded. “Yes, let’s do that.”

You fought Frankie for the bill before letting him win. “Okay, but the next one is on me, Catfish.”

When you emerged into the summer night, you both took a deep breath, trying to clear your heads of the alcohol haze. You weren’t drunk, just pleasantly buzzed and a little silly. Without thinking, you tucked your arm into Frankie’s and snuggled yourself against him as you wandered along. Store windows were lit up against the dark, and you stopped here and there to look and giggle at displays.

You paused in front of an antique store. The window behind the bars was lined in red velvet, and on each of the little red display pillows sat a piece of vintage jewelry.

You were quietly gazing at an enamel bracelet and a sparkly tiara when Frankie’s voice broke the silence.

“You ever want one of those?”

“A tiara? No. I mean, it might be fun for a hot bubble bath, but I can’t exactly wear it to work.”

“No,” he nudged your arm and tilted his chin toward the far left side of the store window. “An engagement ring.”

You froze and suddenly couldn’t breathe. Your eyes shifted to a sparkly, square-cut sapphire ring sitting on the smallest pillow. You couldn’t form rational thoughts, and you weren’t sure exactly what kind of answer Frankie was expecting.

“I mean- uh, I guess I never thought about it. I haven’t seen anyone since we-” you swallowed hard. “I’ve been single since we broke up.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, and when he didn’t respond right away you found yourself filling the silence with nervous chatter. “I mean, I tried dating but it never went past a second date, and I don’t know anyone who would propose that early, and anyway I just- I mean I didn’t think- and you left so I didn’t…” you trailed off, realizing that you weren’t making any sense.

Frankie’s voice was low and serious. “I thought about it.”

That broke the spell and you turned to face him. “You thought about it? About me?”

He looked at you, almost shy. “Yeah, I thought about it a couple of months after we started dating. But with your job and my work, and… Well, you know what happened. You were there, same as I was.” He reached out a hand to cup your chin. “I was sorry it didn’t work out for us.”

You sighed and melted into him, “Oh, Frankie.”

He wrapped both arms around your shoulders as you gripped his waist. Your mouths found each other in the dark as if your last kiss had been yesterday. Frankie was warm and solid and familiar, and you found yourself aching to hang on to him, to keep him there with you for as long as you could.

You stood on the sidewalk together for what seemed like hours, exploring each other and passing silent messages back and forth with your lips and tongues and teeth. Slow swirls of the tip of his tongue around yours told you he missed you, and the tiny nips you bit against his bottom lip conveyed an urgency, a need that you couldn't express in words. You found your fingers entwined in his belt loops, pulling him as close as you could, mimicking the kind of connection that really required nakedness and absolute vulnerability together.

You turned sideways to loop your arm around his waist and walk unsteadily back to your apartment building, stealing kisses again and again as you strolled, then paused, then continued on your way. The trip took twice as long as it should have, but neither you nor Frankie was willing to break apart for longer than it took to step down off a curb or glance at a walk signal. You just kept kissing, drunk on each other and wanting more and more; silently cursing the fact that the apartment was still so far away, but reveling in the moments that you could seize right now to embrace each other as you walked.

When you reached your block, you murmured against Frankie’s mouth. “Do you have anything? I don’t have any protection at home.”

He cursed softly, “Shit. No, I didn’t bring…” He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence as you kissed him again.

“Don’t worry, that’s why I asked. There’s a drugstore right here.”

“I always knew-” he kissed you softly, “... that you were smarter than me.”

You giggled against his mouth and wrapped your arms around his neck. “You’re the one who can fly helicopters. I just stare at data reports all day.”

You walked into the pharmacy holding hands and made it through the checkout line in record time, urgently kissing again when you reached the sidewalk, navigating the final dozen or so yards to your building.

The elevator ride consisted of one long kiss, broken only by Frankie’s urgent, “Mine or yours?” You murmured, “Mine,” and pressed the button for your floor, folding yourself back into his arms. You unlocked your front door while Frankie held you from behind and peppered kisses down your ear and cheek and jaw, distracting you as you fumbled with your keys. When you finally got the door open, you tumbled inside together and slammed the door shut.

Now that you were someplace private, you could undress, fumbling against one another as you struggled to open buttons and zippers and bra clasps in between kisses; to continue your soft caresses while you kicked shoes and pants off and away. Finally you were both standing, wearing only underwear while you continued to embrace. You pulled away from Frankie and picked up the box of condoms where it had dropped, then you took his hand and led him to your bedroom.

You tumbled onto the bed together and continued the makeout session that had started miles away and what seemed like an eternity ago in front of the antique store window. Frankie’s strokes along your ribcage and thighs were light and almost ticklish, so familiar that you wanted to cry. You had no expectations of getting back together and attempting a long-distance relationship, but he was here right now. And that was good, right? It was familiar and lovely and sweet.

Frankie hadn’t changed a bit since you parted 10 months ago, except for a few more grays in his beard and one or two more crinkles when he smiled. You ached and ached for him, even though he was right on top of you, kissing you and touching you and murmuring your name. Your brain kept raising the idea of what would happen in a week when he had to leave, or what might have happened a year ago if Statesman hadn’t demanded so much from both of you. The knowledge that you had missed becoming Frankie’s wife because of shitty circumstances, combined with the threat of losing him again in just a few days time punched you in the throat, and a sob escaped your lips as tears sprang to your eyes.

“What’s wrong, babe? Did I hurt you?” Frankie looked you over, rolling to one side to examine your face with a worried scowl. He propped himself up on one elbow and hovered over you.

“No, I’m just-” You sniffed back another sob. “I just wasn’t expecting to see you, and I’m so glad you’re here. It’s just a lot, that’s all.”

He brushed a tear from your cheek. “We don’t have to do this right now; not if you don’t want to. I didn’t come here with the expectation that you would jump back into bed with me.”

Your heart leapt at that. Same old sweet Frankie, doing everything he could to treat you tenderly, to care for you. You knew that if you tried to explain everything you were feeling, he would probably take it personally. Frankie hated to see you hurting, and doubly so if he thought he was the one who had caused it.

“I might just need a minute. I’m okay, I promise. It’s just been a weird week.”

You decided to joke, to lighten the mood and try to ease Frankie’s worry. “My old boyfriend is back in town, and I just found out that I missed out on him being my husband, and I also kind of kissed my boss yesterday, so I’m not in a real ‘steady’ place right now.”

Frankie frowned at that. “You kissed Bill?”

“Oh, no! No, not my boss-boss.” You paused, unsure of whether or not Frankie would hate you for your next words. “I kissed Agent Whiskey.”

Frankie’s eyebrows nearly leapt off his forehead, but he didn’t sit up or let go of you. He didn’t run out of the room screaming. “Is there something I should know?”

“It was a mistake. I was in his office and I accidentally touched his crotch-” Frankie’s eyebrows raised another impossible inch as you continued, “Truly an accident, a horrible, embarrassing accident. And then I think I just felt really vulnerable and lonely and I kissed him.”

Frankie nodded. “It happens, I guess.” He looked at you tenderly. “Although I’ve never kissed my boss. He always has food in his beard.” You erupted in giggles and tucked your face against Frankie’s chest. He stroked your arm and shoulder, laughing against your hair.

Your giggles subsided, and you rolled away from Frankie, laying on your stomach and folding your arms under your chin. You sighed and turned your face to him. “I am glad you’re here, though. I really missed you.” You paused, trying to formulate your next words.

“It took me a long time to get over you, and I’m honestly not sure I ever did. If we hadn’t both had so much work and conflicting schedules, if things had been different-” Frankie leaned over and cut you off with a soft kiss.

“You don’t have to tell me how things could have been different.” He stroked your temple. “After we broke up I just couldn’t handle working around you. I didn’t hate you, I just had to leave. It hurt too much to stay.”

“I’m sorry, Frankie.”

“No, don’t apologize. It wasn’t you, it wasn’t me, it was just life.” Frankie leaned over and kissed your cheek, stroking your back with feather-light touches, raising goosebumps as silence settled over the both of you.

His touch felt amazing, conjuring electricity where his fingers met your skin. Tingles started to form in your pelvis and you found your breath shuddering in time with Frankie’s caresses. You sat up and moved to straddle him, entwining your fingers with his and pinning his hands to the bed next to his ears.

Neither one of you spoke as you rolled your hips gently on his and stole kiss after kiss, feeling his erection grow and press harder against your vulva, still separated by the fabric of both your underwear and his. Finally you broke your grip on his hands and Frankie reached up to cup your breasts. You arched your back to press yourself into his palms, and your nipples stiffened with the friction and the heat of his touch. You grabbed the backs of his hands and pressed them harder against you, as if you could multiply the sensations that were zipping through your body.

You leaned down for another kiss and then swung your leg off and over him. You stood next to the bed and pulled your panties off, then reached over Frankie to grip his waistband. He lifted his hips to assist you, and when his cock sprung free you nearly gasped at how much you missed him and missed this, the intimacy and the raw electricity and the closeness. You reached out to stroke his length a few times, running the pad of your thumb gently up the underside and over his slit. He was damp there, but not leaking yet, and you let go only to grab the box of condoms and rip it open.

“Here,” you handed him a foil packet and let him put it on. When he was covered you gripped him again and gave him three firm, slow pumps, pulling a moan out of the deepest part of his chest. You straddled him again and hovered over him, making eye contact as you lined up to insert him, taking him into the most intimate part of you. He stroked one large hand from your knee to your ass, then cupped both cheeks and pulled you slightly apart to help guide him in. You closed your eyes and let out a soft hiss as he entered. Everything felt so good and familiar, like no time had passed at all, like he had never left.

When you were fully seated on him, you placed your palms on his shoulders for leverage, watching with delight as the tendons in his neck flexed and his Adam’s apple bobbed, veins throbbing on either side of his beautiful throat as you rode him. He reached one hand down to thumb your clit, pressing and petting it and drawing whimpers from you as the pleasure swelled within you. Neither one of you spoke as you gazed into each other, moving together in a practiced rhythm, increasing the pace and the tempo and the force until you were shaking the whole bed. Then your head spun and you found yourself crying out his name as you climaxed around him. You slumped over him and buried your face in his neck, that gorgeous soft crook between his throat and his shoulder. He braced his feet and thrust up into you. Chills wracked your body as you squeezed and fluttered around his cock. He grunted and clenched his jaw, “I’m coming.” And then he pulled you closer and froze, holding you there as he filled the condom. When he relaxed his thighs and arms, you reached down and gripped the base of the condom to keep it on him as you rolled sideways and off.

You both lay staring at the ceiling, recovering your breath, trying to remember where you were and why anything outside of your shared pleasure mattered.

---

Frankie stayed at your apartment all weekend. The two of you kissed and caressed, showered and fucked, made breakfasts and dinners, watched movies and slept curled together, until you almost forgot how much you had missed each other, almost forgot the fact that he would have to leave.

On Monday you and Frankie walked to the office together and kissed at the front desk, parting ways for the day. You ran into Ginger in the hallway and squealed and gave her a hug. She smiled at you and wiggled her eyebrows. “Did you see who our consultant is for this project?”

“Yes! He came by my office on Friday and we went to dinner.” You leaned over to lower your voice and murmur, “And we spent all weekend together.”

Ginger laughed and you grinned and rolled your eyes. “It’s nice. I don’t know if we’re ‘back together’ or anything, but I’ll have fun hanging out with him while he’s here.”

Ginger bit her lip, “I’m glad. I know you guys really missed each other, but I’m happy you can see him while he’s here.”

“Me, too.”

You and Ginger made plans to have lunch together that afternoon, and your mood was light as you entered your office. It dampened a bit when you saw the flowers from Whiskey that were still sitting there. And it dropped further when you saw a note from one of your staff saying that Whiskey had requested that you come see him when you arrived this morning. You decided that you would just have to treat him like nothing had happened, and keep your head up. After all, you were on cloud nine with Frankie in town, so what’s the worst that could happen?

You found Mary’s desk empty, so you squared your shoulders and knocked on Whiskey’s door. He could try to irritate you all he wanted, but you were going to be cool as a cucumber.

When he opened the door, Whiskey grinned at you and motioned you in. You opted to stand next to his desk with your arms crossed. If this was business, you would keep it businesslike. He walked up to you and raised an eyebrow, still grinning like a fool.

You looked at him and frowned. What was his deal?

He started the conversation cryptically, “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Did you get my flowers?”

You opted for the driest tone you could, “Yes. Thank you.”

He nodded, “Good. Listen, darlin’-”

You interrupted him. “Paloma.”

“Right, Paloma. I’d love to take you out to dinner sometime and apologize again for behaving like a jackass in that meeting a few weeks back.” He placed both of his large, warm hands on your arms and squeezed. “If we could see our way clear to some kind of understanding, I think I’d like it very much if we could-” a knock on his door cut him off.

Mary opened it and stuck her head in. “Agent Whiskey? I have the consultant here for your 9:00 meeting.”

Whiskey hissed out a breath and sounded disappointed. “Right.”

You pounced on the opportunity to escape. “I’ll just get going.”

Mary opened the door all the way and Frankie walked halfway in, freezing at the sight of you and Whiskey standing so close together. Guilt creeped up, even though you had no reason to feel that way, and you fought the urge to apologize to Frankie.

You and Agent Whiskey spoke at the same time, words jumbling together as Frankie approached to shake hands with Whiskey.

“Hi, Agent Whiskey. You can call me Ja-”

“Frankie, hi. I was just-”

“Oh, do you two already know-”

“We used to-”

You found yourself standing next to them as they shook hands and sized each other up. Your own discomfort was so strong that you almost didn’t notice that they were jostling each other as if they were fighting for dominance. A strange energy settled over the three of you as they stared at each other. If you didn’t know any better, you would have said it felt like they were fighting over you.

“Whiskey, this is Frankie Morales. He and I used to work-” Frankie cut you off, something he normally would never do, and his next words mortified you.

“Paloma and I used to date when we worked together in Louisville.”

You groaned. You weren’t embarrassed that you had dated Frankie, but the less information Whiskey had about your personal life, the better.

“Is that so? Well, I didn’t know that.” Whiskey’s voice was as smooth as the leather on his couch, and he cocked an eyebrow at you. Instead of irritating you, it had the effect of sending a flutter to your crotch. You gulped, hard.

Whiskey turned back to Frankie. “Any big plans while you’re here in New York?”

“Paloma and I are going out.”

“We’re what?” Your voice was louder than you had meant it to be and both men turned to look at you. You felt stunned by the double gaze, the two pairs of dark brown eyes, the strong noses and lovely mouths; features so similar to one another now that you saw them together. Maybe Ginger was right, maybe you did have a “type.”

Your brain did a somersault, throwing up the most shocking and simultaneously wonderful idea, and you wished you could banish the thought back to whatever delicious hellhole it had sprung from. You almost burst into tears, thinking that the stress of your job had finally broken your brain. Under normal circumstances, the idea and all of its implications would have been curious, but under the current circumstances it was absolutely ridiculous. The absurd, impossible word had popped into your head entirely uninvited: “Threesome.”

Frankie and Whiskey stared at you for three long, agonizing seconds, then they both spoke the same word at the same time.

“WHAT?”

“Oh, shit. Did I say that out loud?” ---

"Paloma" Series Masterlist Just-here-for-the-moment’s masterlist

Tag list: (Please message me if you're on here and don't want to be!)

@honeymandos @driedgreentomatoes @silverwolf319 @mourningbirds1 @honestly-shite @anaaaispunk @greeneyedblondie44 @spacedilf @maxwell–lord @nicolethered @dihra-vesa @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul @anxiousandboujee

[deniigi]

my supervisor fucked me over with all my other coworkers present. can I request a one shot from you to cheer me up featuring Sammy?

Did I give y’all the fic about the hotpot?

Well if I didn’t, I’m giving it to you now.

Title: hotpot

Summary: Ganke checks the comments for the Blindspot comic daily and there’s this one asshole anon who keeps talking shit about BT.

--

The Blindspot comic went live in the fall and Ganke couldn’t stop checking the hit count every five seconds. All night there had only been ten hits.

He told himself not to be disappointed. The only person who really mattered had read and loved the comic.

Miles said that BT had even forced everyone on the team to read an abridged version of Journey to the West, and had gone as far as to make a quiz to determine everyone’s character.

Miles refused to disclose who he’d gotten.

BT had clearly rigged the game to make himself Sun Wukong and Ganke was proud of him.

That kind of enthusiasm was exactly what he’d been hoping for, anything else now was just icing on the cake.

Even though it would be cool if it wasn’t just BT reading his own comics.

That would be pretty cool, right? Like. If people online all started reading BT’s comic. That would be sort of amazing.

Kind of excellent.

Definitely worthy of an A+ and double pats on the back.

Right?

The hit counter didn’t think so. But hey, five more people had opened the page since last night. That was something, wasn’t it?

 MM: dude why not just ask Sam to tweet out the link?

 How dare you, Miles Morales.

How dare you waltz into this place with logical thought.

GL: I can’t do that. That’s like. Idk. Inflating the views.

MM: okay yeah explain to me how appealing to the person in control of the largest part of his own fandom is inflating the views

GL: I see your logic and I’m banishing it

MM: I’m messaging him

GL: DON’T

MM: too late

MM: he says ‘gimme link’

GL: asdksjsjdks

--

 @blindspot: hi I know y’all can’t get enough of me to the point of asking shockingly invasive questions and for you I say good news! Some amazing folks have gone through the trouble of making a Blindspot comic. it’s good guys check it out [link]

--

 It helped.

A lot.

It helped a lot.

--

 People, on the whole, had great things to say. The panels were screenshotted and tagged and sent all over social media and even though Miles was pretending to be chill and aloof about the whole thing, Ganke could imagine him smiling big and bright and white at his phone non-stop.

Mom and Auntie saw a few of the bits on Twitter and tittered over them in the kitchen like pigeons.

The pride rose like a wave. Ganke kept waiting for the crash.

--

 It came two days later in the form of a comment that read ‘Christ, look at all this fuss. BT is fine. I hate his brother.’

It felt like someone punching the wind out of Ganke’s lungs.

He took comfort in the handful of people who leapt in to shout down the commenter. They emphasized that if the anonymous commenter didn’t like the story or the characters, then they didn’t have to read it and they, especially, didn’t have to say anything about it.

Ganke appreciated those guys. He got the feeling that a lot of the people on there knew that the whole thing had been done but a couple of kids.

Not that Anon cared.

Anon replied to all these comments ‘No, I’m gonna keep reading, thanks. Anyways, the brother is lame. The smart part is cool, but why’s it always gotta be a guy?’

The part that haunted Ganke even after he’d shut his laptop and had gone to stick his head out the window for some big breaths of cleansing air was that Anon was kind of right.

--

 GL: should we have made Guotin’s brother a sister?

MM: no

GL: why not?

MM: cause BT’s always wanted a brother

 Oh.

Okay. Then it was fine?

 MM: yeah man ignore them. it’s chill.

GL: k thanks my ego is huge and fragile

MM: trust me I know

 Asshole. Fine, moving right along.

--

 It didn’t stop. Anon commented on every page. Every. Single. Page.

Ganke didn’t know what to do or say. On the one hand, clearly this person was dedicated and deeply engaged with the comic, on the other hand, they needed a Rude Alert button. Ganke wondered if Ned could code one for them and them only.

The latest of their fury was directed at the big reveal in the second issue—BT’s face.

Having now met Sam, BT, Blindspot, Ganke’s whole image of him had changed.

He was not conventionally attractive as far as like, K-Pop idols and famous Chinese dudes went. His eyes were puffy and narrow and his face was round everywhere but the jaw. He leaned more towards ‘cute’ than ‘sexy,’ which Ganke sort of loved about him.

He was friendly. Stressed and grumpy and feisty as hell, yeah, but first and foremost friendly.

Miles claimed that he called it his ‘number one asset in employability.’ Which was wild because hello, Blindspot.

Obviously, BT couldn’t help his face. But Miles and Ganke could help Guotin’s.

Ganke had sent Miles about fifteen different images of Chinese celebrities and had told him to do his worst. They’d reviewed the final few drafts and had picked one that was most like a young Chen Kun. His face was more oval-shaped than BT’s. His chin and lips were slimmer but more defined. He was pretty, but not so pretty as to be called ‘feminine,’ which Ganke thought was a solid compromise between ‘handsome as sin’ and ‘looks like he’s got a quirky sense of humor.’

Anon hated him.

Anon thought that he looked like an idol, and they were not here for it.

They told ‘the artist’ to give him a mole or something, anything to make him look ‘less pristine. God, I can smell him from here and he smells like Dior and staph habitat.’

Ganke had to look up what a staph infection was. He regretted it. He asked Miles if they should censor Anon.

Miles said ‘mmmmm, idk it’s not like they aren’t saying anything that isn’t true.’

Ganke resented that. Clearly this was defamation of BT. This person hated him and was taking their feeling out on the comic.

 MM: I mean yeah but it’s not like they’re talking about the comic, man. They’re talking about the style and like, thinking about it, a mole or smth to help you tell him apart from other folks would kind of be helpful. Like, especially if we ever put him in a crowd, you know?

 HHHHHH.

Fine.

Anon could stay. But they were on thin ice.

--

 It was hard not to be bitter about Anon’s comments, especially when they arrived daily, as though Anon knew exactly what they were doing and which page they’d left off at. They couldn’t possibly be reading the comic one page at a time, this was intentional.

Ganke’s jaw hurt from all the tooth grinding he’d endured as of late.

This latest one read ‘yo, has BT ever mentioned fighting with a sword? I don’t recall him mentioning. Someone should take that thing away from him before someone loses an eye—or maybe even two.’

That felt like a pointed jibe.

That turned the churning irritation in Ganke’s gut into something much, much colder.

Did Anon know about BT’s black and blue eyes? How could they know? Was it a coincidence? It seemed to be more than a coincidence.

The pile of critiques was growing bigger and bigger, and now that Ganke thought about it, they all seemed to take issue with things that didn’t match the real Blindspot’s personality.

It was as if they knew him.

 GL: miles did you read the new comment from AnonTheAsshole?

MM: lol yeah

GL: tell me if I’m talking out my ass or whatever but like

GL: you don’t think they could be Muse, could they?

 Silence.

 MM: oh no

 Yeah. Fuck.

 MM: chances are low.

GL: they know so much tho??

MM: might be stalker? Maybe someone who’s over-invested in BT’s social media pages?

GL: maybe.

MM: hold on let me ask Spidey to screen it

GL: does he know Muse?

MM: no, but he’s paranoid and he’ll get Wade to be paranoid with him, and then they can decide whether its worth giving to DD for verification. He knows Muse.

 Ganke’s head was spinning. His fingers shook with guilt and the thought of Muse’s pale body hunched over a secret, cracked cell phone in a high security prison who knew where.

In Ganke’s head, he smiled wider and wider, until the skin on his cheeks cracked. He dug out scraps of paper and redrew Blindspot—Sam—with gaping holes for eyes and a screaming mouth and he drew dismembered corpses in black lakes and he laughed.

He just kept laughing.

 MM: hey ganke

MM: it’s going to be okay. It’s just a comic. I’m sure AnonTheAsshole is a stalker. They’re not threatening anyone.

MM: Sam can deal with a stalker. And we can too, okay?

 There was a reason that Miles was a hero. Ganke wiped at his eyes and swallowed.

 GL: okay. Thanks for doing that.

MM: 👍🏾

--

 It took a few hours because Spidey and Deadpool had lives outside of being Spidey and Deadpool, but not so long that Ganke ran out of nails to chew.

Miles messaged him back and said that Spidey had read through everything and ‘escalated it.’ This meant that whatever he’d seen had caused him enough concern to take it to DP.

Miles said that he’d get back to Ganke with DP’s verdict as soon as he had it. In the meantime, he’d run the comments by the other Spideypeople and they thought that it most likely wasn’t malevolent but was maybe something to keep an eye on in the meantime. He tacked onto all, somewhat stiltedly, that he had a weird feeling all of the sudden. The pink Spidey’s tone had changed. She’d shut down and gone cagey, which allegedly wasn’t like her at all. Then she’d told the taller guy to DM her and they’d vanished from the chat. Miles wasn’t sure what was going on there or if maybe they knew something about stuff going on that he didn’t, but he wasn’t super comfortable with it.

 GL: crossing my fingers its nothing?

MM: same man, same.

--

 DP escalated it.

Ganke couldn’t stay still in his room. There was no comfortable place to sit or stand or lay. There was nothing to do that would make him stop thinking about everything.

 MM: It’s gonna be fine, man, DD always knows what to do.

 Miles kept saying that for every step of the way, and yet here they were. Double escalated. Ganke wasn’t so sure he even knew what was happening anymore.

That was scary. Miles was supposed to be part of the in-crowd.

 MM: Wade doesn’t think it’s anything that can’t be nipped in the bud.

 That was easy for a contract assassin to say, wasn’t it?

 MM: he says that you and I are fine. Doesn’t see any links there. Waiting on DD for confirmation of tone.

 Hurry up, Daredevil. Your apprentice’s life might be about to take a nosedive into a heap of trash.

--

 Two hours. One text.

 MM: >:/

 Ganke couldn’t contain the bubble of laughter.

 GL: good news?

MM: [image]

 He opened it.

 SC: HANNAH YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE. STOP BEING A BITCH ON MAIN

HC: You can’t tell me what to do

SC: I CAN

HC: Mom he’s being MEAN

SC: Mom she’s scaring children online

HC: I scare children everywhere I go why are these ones special???

SC: Because I said so

HC: that doesn’t fucking work Samuel you’re not her

SC: I am your older brother

SC: your ELDEST brother

HC: YOU AINT SHIT

SC: THEY DON’T COUNT

SC: HALFSIES COUNT

 What.

 MM: so.

MM: she’s not Muse.

MM: Red’s laughing his ass off at all of us for taking this to a level three

GL: wait I don’t understand

MM: Hannah is Sam’s little sister. She’s found a new hobby in our website.

 Blindspot’s little sister was reading the comic??? Holy shit.

 GL: she hates him?

MM: no I’ve been informed that they would literally commit murder for each other but this is how they express love.

 No way. Siblings were wild.

 GL: so we’re good?

MM: [image]

  SC: apologize 🔪

HC: eat my ass

SC: apologize or else

HC: or else what? You gonna come in here and sit on me? Huh? Huh????

SC: I know your email password. All 3 you cycle through. What was his name? Uuuuuuuuuh Jing?

HC: you fucking bastard

SC: Hi Jing, it’s me, Hannah. I’ve been in mad crush with you since sophomore year. Please notice me senpai 😖

HC: Die

SC: kill me

HC: I will.

 The giggles that came this time were a mix of relief and genuine intrigue. This lady read the comic every day. She took the time to scroll through pictures of her brother being an absolute lunatic and fighting with a huge monkey. Then she hopped into that comment box and took him—not Miles, not Ganke, specifically Blindspot--down a peg.

She must miss him a lot. Ganke wondered if this was her way of keeping him in her thoughts.

 MM: I don’t think we’re getting a sorry, man. DD says Sam’s been at this all morning and has been tricked into apologizing himself twice

GL: so you’re saying that she’s an evil genius

MM: idk but she’s def Sam’s main nemesis. I always thought that older siblings got like, rights or something over younger ones, but idk anymore. Angel says this is normal.

GL: do you think she misses him?

 Miles took a long time to respond.

 MM: yeah

 Yeah, Ganke thought so, too.

 GL: should we change Guo tin’s brother’s name to ‘hamish?’

MM: ASDLDSDSFKdsjf

MM: one moment.

MM: sam says yes. Hannah says that she thinks our comic is shit and we need to draw everything uglier

GL: she’s kind of funny

MM: 👀perhaps she would like to be a consultant?

GL: 👀👀👀👀

MM: brb asking

MM: sam says no. Hannah says she’s got better things to do than proofread comics on the internet. She’s also not sorry. She wants that to be clear. DD says that the conversation has moved from English to Chinese and to maybe duck and cover for now. He says all is good tho. Thanks for checking in.

MM: Muse doesn’t use punctuation and talks in riddles, so if we get any of that, we’re supposed to send it to DP right away.

 Oh, nice. That was a relief.

 MM: oh

MM: sam wants to put us in a chat. Can I give him your number?

 Uh, only if he wanted Ganke to hyperventilate.

 GL: sure

 --

  [GL has been added to a Secure Chat]

 It was a page of characters and emojis that were somehow more menacing than Ganke had ever seen them before. Miles popped a little waving hand into the fray, as though testing the waters, but the characters just carried on scrawling around it.

Ganke wasn’t quite sure what to do.

 GL: hi? Are y’all okay?

 There was finally a pause. Then a few shorter lines of characters. And then finally, Blindspot switched from Chinese to English.

 SC: yes we’re FINE. We’re GREAT. Aren’t we, sibling from hell?

HC: who’re you? Why are you in our family chat? This is a family only zone, can’t you read?

SC: God Hannah he’s Korean don’t be a dick

HC: I can’t not be I learned it from you

SC: fair but pretend in the face of company

HC: okay fine. Hello losers.

MM: adksadfadsdfldfsldf

MM: hi

GL: hi?

SC: go on

HC: UGH

HC: fine

HC: I didn’t mean to shit talk your creation. Only my brother.

SC: also a sin, we’ll get to that later

HC: no one cares about you Samuel, stop spreading lies

SC: you first. We both know this is no lie, my white dad cares about me a whole lot

HC: well we can’t all have white dads now can we

SC: don’t be jealous

MM: lol you really call Matt your white dad??

HC: who is this person and how do they know our mutual parent’s name?

SC: this is not a mutual parent situation how many times have we been through this. He’s mine. Get your own.

MM: hi! 👋🏾I’m Bitsy! Spidey no. 4

GL: I’m his friend. He draws the comic. I write it.

HC: oh. nerd children x2

HC: anyways yeah Matt is our dad

SC: ffs

MM: he’s sort of dadly ig.

HC: ?? oho

SC: mind your face. Think about your face. Think about how much you like your face.

HC: little spider, did you not hear?

SC: kay everyone out. We’re done here

MM: hear what?

HC: lol Sammy you didn’t tell them about how Matthew Mcconaughey adopted you in all ways but paperwork?

 Ganke held his phone away from his face as far as it would go.

 MM: …wait are you for real?

SC: no. okay out.

HC: awwww Sammy so shy now. What are you embarrassed about? It’s cute.

SC: Hannah literally shut up I’m not playing

HC: damn okay sorry

MM: can I be honest?

SC: no

MM: I’m going to be anyways: I think we all sorta knew.

SC: …

HC: right?

SC: what does that even mean?

MM: idk, it just felt right, you know? You two are always fussing at each other and red lost his shit that time you got shot. He doesn’t treat you the way he treats the rest of us and we’re his teammates. He doesn’t even treat spidey like he treats you. So like, yeah. It fits.

MM: I’m really happy for you guys.

MM: is there a reason it’s a secret?

 Ganke eased himself back down onto the mattress. This was real. This was like, actual, real information. Something that he and like, four other people in the world now knew.

He kind of wanted to forget it. It didn’t feel right to know.

 SC: I dunno.

HC: if sam has an honest emotion towards anything he has to calculate its weight so he can make space for it in his collection of satellites.

MM: wh

SC: you’re so not funny.

HC: it’s called emotional repression, darling. It’s all the rage in this family.  

MM: oh

MM: so that’s why you and Red get on so well

SC: HHHHHHH

HC: HA

SC: okay but listen his is different, I’ve only seen him cry at his wedding. I cry at least 4 times a week. Obviously under the bed, but that can’t be emotional repression. That’s expression. That’s clearly expression

HC: I can make the old man cry watch me

SC: please don’t I’ll die

MM: awwwww

SC: shut up it doesn’t even matter.

MM: AWWWWWW

SC: LEAVE ALREADY

MM: no I like it here. I want to hear you talk about how much you love your white dad

SC: I don’t. He loves me. I’m fine with this because it results in food, shelter, and continued employment.

HC: uh huh

SC: I’m using him

HC: yeah because you’re like the most manipulative person I know.

SC: thank you

HC: /sarcasm

SC: I know I ignored it.

MM: so wait why do you actually pretend like you hate him tho?

SC: wh

SC: what the fuck am I supposed to do? Just go on up for a cuddle? Have you met Matt? The second someone starts crying, he finds trash to take out to the bins. Hell no. Life is easier for everyone if I stab him with a stick and he kicks my ass in training. It’s fine.

HC: Sam is learning how to be a Manly Man. This is step one.

SC: I’m plenty manly

HC: you’re what mom imagined as manly

SC: which is perfect. That’s all I need.

HC: mama’s boy

SC: must suck to suck, no one’s kid.

 Wow. Ganke had never been more glad that he didn’t have a sister.

 GL: That’s kind of cool, though.

GL: that you and DD are close like that I mean.

GL: Its different from all the other mentor/mentee superheroes we see who like, sort of hate each other.

SC: wh

SC: OH. you mean Peter and Kate. Peter doesn’t actually hate Stark, fyi. And Kate calls Hawkeye the Old bi-weekly to make sure he’s still breathing. It’s actually pretty normal.

MM: he doesn’t mean like that Sam. I mean, like those guys don’t associate with their Olds now that they’re grown up and stuff, but you and DD stick together. It’s like you’re family.

MM: and that’s super cool. Idk if Spidey would ever consider me family. I don’t think he wants that for us.

SC: I?

SC: oh shit

HC: CLARITY ON THIS FINE DAY. What was your name again, tiny spider?

MM: miles

HC: PRAISE BE TO MILES

HC: AN EMOTION WAS HAD

SC: get fucked

HC: An epiphany was obtained!

SC: would you shut up

HC: Something has finally permeated that non-porous, two-inch thick skull of my esteemed eldest brother

SC: I’m your only brother

HC: you’re not

SC: they don’t fucking count

HC: now will you FINALLY invite our mutual dad to hotpot?

SC: Hannah he doesn’t want to come to hot pot we’ve talked about this. it’s too spicy for him.

HC: I’ll make it 1/3 less spicy

SC: that’s still too spicy

HC: I’ll make it 2/5 less spicy

SC: 3/5

HC: listen

HC: I have all this fucking equipment that SOMEONE left here callously

MM: what’s hotpot?

SC: 👀

HC: 👀

GL: 👀

SC: well fuck

HC: EYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

GL: have we never taken you with us for hotpot???

MM: no?? is this the sticks?

HC: can be. Where do you live?

SC: Hannah no

HC: Hannah yes. We’ll make one here. You’ll make one there.

SC: do you know how much shit I’ll have to buy? Where are we gonna put it?

HC: this wouldn’t be a problem if you’d taken your goddamn inheritance with you to SF

SC: HHHHHH

MM: you guys are actually being serious?

HC: I am. I am here all on my lonesome. Abandoned by my only kin. I require enrichment.

SC: try doing your fucking homework

HC: did anyone hear something?

MM: lololololol I like you

HC: 😊

SC: wh

SC: oh no. No no no.

SC: you two don’t get to be friends

HC: come here bb pspspspspspsps

MM: I’m here

HC: got ‘im. Let’s have hotpot. Sammy send me resippy. We’ll do it together over video so I don’t fuck it up.

SC: I’ve got to go. This has been traumatizing.

HC: byeeeeeeeeeeee

HC: is he gone? Hell yeah, he’s gone.

HC: hey thanks for making that comic thing. It’s hella rad. He loves it. Mom used to call him Monkey when he was little.

GL: omg aw

HC: ikr? P cute. He misses her a lot so I think it brought back good memories. Anyways, I’m actually going to make hotpot. Come over and have some with me, it’s more fun with more people.

MM: you’re not joking

HC: nope, it’s been ages since your whole team has gotten together, right? Ask them to do it. I’m a shit cook, but Sam’ll show us how not to screw it up. And he’s playin’, he’s totally down to hang out with us. We never had more than three people. It’ll be new. Exciting. Enriching even.

MM: are you secretly a nice person, Hannah?

HC: the fuck do you mean ‘secret’??? I’m a delight.

MM: Okay I’ll ask the team and my mom

MM: ganke?

HC: 👀

 That—

Sounded kind of nice?

 GL: I’ll ask my mom.

HC: nice. You can tell them that it’s a friends dinner or whatever. Idc. I promise I’m not going to kidnap and murder you. I’ve got like, class and work and shit. I don’t have time for that.

MM: 👍🏾

GL: 👍🏼

HC: great here I’ll message you my number. This is legit our sibs chat so Sam’ll freak if you’re still here when he gets back.

MM: thank you! And sorry for thinking you were muse!!

GL: yeah that too

HC: lol np ttyl                                    

 That…had really just happened, hadn’t it?

Ganke needed to sit down even though he was already sitting down.

 GL: they’re so nice???

MM: ikr?

GL: are you actually going to ask your mom?

MM: Im gonna ask BT if its cool first. Then yeah. Why not? Our team really hasn’t gotten together in a minute. Everyone’s been super busy. It would be a nice change of pace, and if everyone brings smth then Hannah doesn’t have to pay for anything.

MM: ah, Sam says it’s okay. He says sorry his sister is weird and that he’ll make sure she doesn’t poison us.

GL: I kind of love her

MM: same

MM: okay will check in with the others. Talk to you later.

GL: yeah see you later

 Damn, at this rate, Ganke’s family was going to triple in size, and all thanks to a comic.

Before he left for downstairs, he made a note to make Guo tin’s brother snarkier.

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Among Us idea: Because I'm a little bit obsessed with game mechanics and glitches in fic...how about a round where one of the Hermits gets left behind? The game ends, and everyone but them is transported to the lobby, but they're just left on an empty ship flying eternally to some destination it will never reach... All the tasks are done. There's nothing left to do. So why is the game still keeping them there? And how do they escape? (It could also be two people left, if writing just one alone would be boring. Your choice who!)

SKSKSKSKSK HOW DO YOU DO THIS I’VE BEEN PLANNING OUT AN IDEA IN MY HEAD FOR THE LAST FEW DAYS IN WHICH TWO PLAYERS ACCIDENTALLY GET LEFT BEHIND HOW DO YOU KEEP READING MY MIND (/lh)

also i had a kind of idea to expand the concept a little bit and i hope that’s okay :)

also also i too love the ideas that utilise glitches or kinda ignore game mechanics; they're always so interesting to write! :D

…

Having finished his tasks a long time ago and not being teleported to any meetings lately, Skizz wanders around the whole ship, trying to find a friend. A buddy. Or literally anyone. But the ship seems deserted.

Finally, Skizz wanders into admin and checks the special table.

To his shock, he finds only two yellow faces on the screen: one in admin and one in cafeteria. So he rushes into the cafeteria and literally bumps into someone coming the other way.

“Oh my gosh, FINALLY,” Impulse breathes. “Where IS everyone?”

Skizz glances away, unable to meet his best friend’s gaze. “We have a problem.”

Impulse frowns. “What?” he asks warily.

“Um…” Skizz rubs the back of his neck. “So… it seems we’re the only two people on the ship.”

It takes a moment for Impulse’s brain to process what his friend just said. “...what?”

“I looked around the whole ship and then went to the admin table. There were only two yellow dots: me and you. There’s literally nobody else anywhere on the ship, dude.”

“But… I…” Impulse blinks. “How is that possible? Did the game end and leave us behind, somehow?”

“I feel like that’s the only possible explanation, but at the same time, it makes no sense.”

“Well, if this IS what happened, it’s gotta be a glitch, right?” says Impulse.

Skizz nods. “Gotta be. But now the question is… how do we get outta here?”

Impulse gazes around the room. “The game always automatically puts us back in the lobby when we’re done, so… I don’t think there’s a way of manually doing it.”

Skizz stares back at him with wide eyes. “You mean we’re stuck in THIS particular ship forever?!”

“W-Well, hopefully not FOREVER,” Impulse responds nervously. “I’m sure they’ll have realised we’re missing by now and they’ll be trying to get us back.”

“But what if they can’t?!” Skizz yelps. “We’ll be trapped in this purgatory forever!”

“Not helping, Skizz,” snaps Impulse. “We’ll be totally fine. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah, like I can have ANY faith in your words anymore,” mutters Skizz, turning away.

Impulse glances sharply at him, sensing that his best friend’s words aren’t about Among Us. Not entirely. “What do you mean?”

Skizz just rolls his eyes and walks off.

Impulse watches him go. Looks like Skizz hasn’t been so quick to forgive and forget after all. Now the way Skizz was acting around him earlier makes sense.

After making a quick trip around the ship, Impulse discovers Skizz sitting leaning against the wall in admin, tossing a stack of ID cards at the wall one at a time.

“Still no way off,” Impulse reports. “Looks like we’re stuck here until they rescue us. Flying through space. On a ship heading to nowhere. An endless journey. With nothing except-.”

“Yes, okay, I get it!” Skizz snaps at him.

After a moment, Impulse leans against the admin table. “Skizz, you’ve been acting weird around me all night. I think we need to talk.”

“I don’t wanna talk.”

“C’mon. We’re stuck here on a ship on our own for the foreseeable future. There’s no better time to talk than now.”

“Okay!” snaps Skizz unexpectedly, jumping to his feet. “FINE! You wanna talk?! I don’t care! You did a LOT of talking back there on 3rd Life and not a word of it was true!”

Impulse frowns. “Is that what this is about?”

Skizz’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “WH- WHAT DO YOU MEAN “is that what this is about”?! You say that like I’m mad at you for stealing my sandwich! Impulse, you LIED to me, BETRAYED me, and then watched Grian KILL me! You told me over and over again that you were on my side and you were loyal to us but you planned to betray us from the start! Y-You planned to betray ME. Do you-” He breaks off with a bitter laugh. “You know what, I was gonna say “do you have any idea how much that hurts?” but you DO, don’t you? Because your own ally turned on you. And murdered you. And you know what? YOU DESERVED IT!”

Impulse can only stare at his best friend with an expression of guilt and sadness.

“I wanted you to go far, dude! I wanted you to win at one point!” Skizz’s voice cracks. “I thought you were the best of us but it turns out you were nothing but a dirty liar and a traitor! I thought “oh, his strategy of playing all sides is pretty smart, actually, but he’s gonna have to pick a side at some point” but I didn’t realise that meant pretending to pick a side and then STABBING THEM IN THE BACK! Of all the- the jerky things to do! You pick the worst one! I-I just don’t understand how you could do that to someone you’ve been a brother to for A QUARTER OF A CENTURY! GOD, you SO deserved to die and the biggest regret of my life is that I didn’t get imposter tonight so I could stab you in the FACE!”

Skizz finally stops talking, breathing heavily. He takes in a deep breath, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Wow… I did not expect to yell that much…”

“I…” Impulse searches for something to say. But he can’t find anything. “I don’t…”

“You don’t have to say anything, Impulse.” Skizz gives a weak smile. “I-I think I just needed to… to let my feelings out.”

“You just needed to yell at me, huh? I get that.”

“Haha, yeah. Remember that time I snuck onto Hermitcraft and did a bunch of reckless things and then died, and you didn’t know if I was gonna respawn or not?”

Impulse nods, a small smile appearing on his face. “That’s what I was indirectly referring to. I think my throat hurt from yelling at you for, like, two weeks after that.”

“Are we even now, then?” asks Skizz.

“Well, I mean… Probably not. I still have a lot to make up for.”

Skizz shakes his head. “No, it… it’s okay. We all did things in that place that we’re not proud of.”

“Even the great Skizzleman?” teases Impulse weakly.

“Oh heck yeah. I still have nightmares about how I violently murdered two of my friends and how bloodthirsty I felt for so long. It freaks me out that I got to that point, man. Even in Among Us when I murder people, even you, I never got THAT bad.”

“Yeah, 3rd Life was…” Again, Impulse searches for the right word. “...an experience. In more ways than one.”

“It really was,” Skizz murmurs, letting out a long breath. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have let it affect Among Us so much.”

“No, it’s okay. And we can-.”

Impulse breaks off Skizz suddenly disappears in front of him. Blinking, he just has time to take a step forward before the admin room vanishes and he finds himself back in the lobby.

With eight people staring at him.

“Oh my gosh, finally!” Tango gasps, grabbing both Impulse and Skizz in a hug. “Are you guys okay?”

“We’re fine, dude,” laughs Skizz quietly. “We just yelled at each other a bit, that’s all.”

Impulse chuckles. “Well, it was mostly Skizz doing the yelling.”

“Yeah, true. How did you guys even manage to get us out?”

“The insane genius that is Etho hacked into the code and managed to force the round to end again,” Tango responds. “Somehow. I dunno how. Took us a while to figure out what’d happened, though.”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen that glitch before,” Etho chimes in. “There was six left, Grian and Ren double-killed me and Pungence to win, and that should’ve been it. The rest of us respawned in the lobby but we realised you two were missing.”

“Whoa, that’s so weird.” Skizz exchanges a look with Impulse. “Cuz for us, it was like the round just hadn’t ended.”

“Yeah, we’d both done all our tasks and we had no idea anything had happened.”

“What did you guys do?”

Impulse and Skizz shoot each other another look, silently making a mutual decision. “Just talked a bit and tried to look for a way out,” Impulse replies. “That’s all.”

Tango frowns, clearly picking up on the slight tension between them, but he doesn’t mention it. “Okay. Let’s hope that doesn’t happen again.”

“Yeah.”

Skizz thinks back to the way he’d exploded at Impulse, and the way Impulse had looked at him with fear in his eyes. All the fury, the despair, the hurt… It had all spilled out at once. Skizz never wants to feel that way again.

“Let’s hope not.”

[onlyhereforangst]

WWR

Alright y’all a likely final WWR coming at you, you know 3 months late the day of the dreaded s19 premiere. This definitely gets ranty and emotional, if you’re a Gibbs stan scroll the fuck away & don’t send me hate anon. This is bittersweet and it hurts and I’ve been living in denial for months but I needed this little bit of closure before the writer’s absolutely fuck it up in less than 6 hours. I hope you enjoy my emotional ramblings & I’ve absolutely loved writing these for the past two years, i’ll miss it & your reactions to it dearly ❤️

Badass Ellie is allllllways a treat, and protective nick contrasted to her making albeit slightly reckless decisions is top tier. And then followed up by him being impressed as hell??? He’s like damn my girl just did that and I am not turned on, no way, we are working I am not turned on, nope. Nick sitting at Ellie’s desk in the beginning PLS. Feet kicked up feeling mighty comfortable for someone who hates sitting at a desk 👀 only ok with it when it’s Ellie’s, huh Nick? Also I love that he’s sticking with the nonchalant approach like he did when he found her looking up Eastern Europe locations. He knows if he pushes too hard it won’t go well, but he is still concerned for her well-being. Those pieces slowly clicking into place that something isn’t just off- it’s worrisome off. Because while yes he’s still nonchalant he’s a touch more serious this time, ignoring her attempt at a brush off and claiming “he wants answers.” It’s a subtle step up from 18x14, but it’s there. His spidey senses are tingling and he’s getting less and less able to hide his concern for her 🥺 even if he tries to play it off as flirty banter because yes he’s still gd impressed with her moves and even tells Vance as such essentially. 

Flash forward to at the stash house and they find the files plus the mini debrief back in the bullpen…I truly am inclined to believe Ellie doesn’t know here. I mean sure she realizes that the timing fits to a certain extent—she was at NSA when this happened, but I don’t think she knows this is the beginning of her end. She’s like “oh they’re selling secrets too” and “my contacts are all gone” like…I just, she seems too casual and not at all on edge. Idk so far I’m just not getting that vibe. She even brushed off McGee with the whole that was ten years ago almost like she didn’t remember it? But then at the same time she did bring up the whole legal vs ethical- she hedged, but she did mention it. She was not super gung-ho about OMG THIS WAS SO UNETHICAL WTF HOW COULD THEY DO THIS so still……..idk lets continue haha

Ok her knowledge of guns is slightly concerning but also Nick finds it concerning AND hot, boy can’t help himself lets be honest. That “damn” that slips out please, so many sirens going off in that head but also you’re just like well fuck talk dirty to me some more babe. Aaaaand here we go, here’s why I know Ellie didn’t know that odette was going to plant that shit right now. “Whoever took them from the NSA’s code-level servers risked a lot more than their career” with a little like duh face from Ellie SCREAMS that she did not, would not, EVER do that. The leak was fabricated by Odette and the fact that it would be planted during this case was all Odette unbeknownst to Ellie. Or why the fuck would Ellie so casually and somewhat judgmentally be like “who TF would leak something like that, man they stupid, committing treason and whatnot.” And Ellie is SHOOK when Vance tells her it was her. Like shook as in, blinks several times, shifts her weight back, glances at McGee with a flash of surprise in her eyes. That body language screeeeeams being caught off guard. If she had leaked those documents and if she had known this was a plant, she wouldn’t be caught off guard. And no matter how well you can try and play the part, that body language is legit. She’s shocked someone would even think about that and oh man, Nick. Nick’s face hurts me (and I know this is just the beginning). Because a man who has always seen himself as the bad egg, the criminal so to speak, the one who would do something shady before any of the others. He is shook and angry that Vance could even consider accusing Ellie of this. And then there’s the genuine concern etched on his face (and I’d know, the screen is currently paused on his face staring at Ellie with a worried furrowed brow and pain clenched in his jaw) because he knows logical Ellie wouldn’t do this but also he knows he’s been seeing little puzzle pieces fall into place of suspicious behavior and this is just one more thing that doesn’t sit right with him- doesn’t fit the woman he’s come to know and love. And while I know he truly believes she didn’t leak the files, I would bet right here he’s concerned about what the fuck she’s gotten herself wrapped up in. 

And she continues to be adamantly against this, like Eleanor Raye Bishop would NOT ever leak intel, not as a baby NSA analyst who believed she was doing the right thing always in her role. Never once bringing up questionable ethics, she thought it was the greater good, that little patriot. She’s so adamantly against it and then Vance asks if she was framed, and I think that’s the point where Ellie realizes this is Odette. The word framed all of a sudden clicks it all into place and she picks up it might be “go time” for her. Her glances over at Vance have changed, they’re more cautious, calculating. She hears they’ve been leaked over ten years ago and she knows that she didn’t do it 10 years ago so this very well may be the notice of eviction from Odette. The “we’re coming for you, Agent Bishop” and her little look, oooooh Ellie is fired up. Her switch flipped and she’s now gotta hunker down and defend herself until she can confirm with Odette. Vance doesn’t even let her get a word in to “fight” for her innocence. But the fact that she’s getting sent home pisses her off, she wants to be close to the investigation, know what’s happening, and I’m sure a part of her still resists being dubbed that traitor of the state. Who knows, Odette may have never told her how she would become a disgraced NCIS agent, and this may have pissed Ellie off because her integrity is something she prides herself on. Her line, “I’m not Gibbs […] I’m innocent line” is like a tiny bright spot to chuckle in during this dismal finale. Gibbs hate train right hereeeee

Love that Kasie is immediately on the Ellie defense side, not looking forward to her reaction to Ellie leaving IF they even decide to show us. 

Gibbs telling Ellie “sometimes there’s nothing left to be said” when he fucking up and left the team without so much as a goodbye or sorry for committing police brutality like fuck outta here Gibbs. Ellie is CLEARLY vulnerable right now, she’s been accused of leaking classified documents aka committing treason, she’s suspended, she’s on the brink of going on some dumbass undercover op and is begging, pleading, for any sign from you- her boss and father figure- not to do it. That he shows remorse for leaving the team without a word, that he regrets his decision to just disappear on them, that he wishes he hadn’t or he had done it differently. ANY kind of sign to tell her not to go through with what she’s about to go through. Literally any sign, and instead Gibbs gets defensive and bites back that she’s picking the wrong time in her life (LIKE HELLO YOU JUST SAID IT RIGHT THERE IDIOT, SHE’S GOING THROUGH SHIT MAYBE YOU SHOULD FIGURE OUT WHAT IT IS BUT NO YOU’RE WRAPPED UP IN GIBBS LA-LA-LAND AND HAVE SAID FUCK YOU TO YOUR SUPPOSED KIDS), so now Ellie is even more pissed and gets defensive back telling him he doesn’t even know what’s going on in her life and if that’s not a desperate cry for help I don’t know what is. like she is begging you Gibbs to pick up on it and figure it out, begging you to do your job that’s you’re supposedly so good at and save her from going through with this stupid mission. And then Ellie realizes that he stopped caring about them. He’d gotten so wrapped up in what he was doing, he stopped caring about their lives, the problems they were facing, anything. Him *not* realizing something was happening??? This is Gibbs, this is the man that always knows what’s happening before you even know what’s happening. So the words “I’m starting to realize that” hit like a fucking dump truck. He’s too preoccupied with his own boat-making nonsense that he can’t be bothered to have even an inkling of an idea of what’s going on in their lives. And he doesn’t seem to care that he’s dropped them from his life. And that’s when it hits Ellie, he’s never coming back. He’s cut the team out of his life and he doesn’t care. He has no regrets, he can’t even be bothered to have a single regret. And I think that, right there, is when Ellie decides she’s all in. I think there was always a small part of her that was hesitant to go along with odette. Hesitant to just upend her career and her relationships (aka Nick, but we’ll get to this), all of it. But hearing that the man she looked up to even though he’d made some mistakes, the man she viewed as a father, the one person who’d taken a chance on the nerdy analyst long ago, the one constant through all the turmoil she’d had, just left? Just left without a goodbye, without remorse, without even a parting thought for her? That was it for her. Whatever brainwashing Odette had fed her that she’d pushed back against from fully taking over finally broke free. And with it, Ellie grieves, she’s tearing up from knowing what she’s about to lose. Lose the man she viewed as a father, the coworkers that were like a family, the partner she’d found herself loving like she’d never loved before. 

Ugh poor hurt Nick, he’s willing to do all the grunt work that he abhors in order to free up McGee so he can save Ellie. Nick knows he doesn’t have the skills and I think that’s killing him even more so. He can’t just do it himself, he has to rely on someone else to clear her name (to which he bumped back to last name in a last ditch attempt to maintain distance and keep some semblance of emotions in check, which is failing miserably), and that is killing the doer we know and love. LOL “so you’re both wrong” this poor man I love him, I can’t wait for the tears that will come from me later 🥲 nick immediately taking Jessica’s help, I love it. He’s like I don’t give AF who will help us but I am clearing this woman’s name if it’s the last thing I do. And then she walks in and he’s frozen. All these emotions running through him and then she’s there?? And she ignores him??? Ignores all of them?? Rushes past and storms up to the director on a suicide mission??? Yeah this is why I said that conversation with Gibbs was her last nail in the coffin. She hadn’t decided to go through with it (hence why she hedged earlier with Vance) and then he went and was a piece of shit so she said the hell with it and went all in. She can’t even bring herself to speak at Nick, barely looks at him, because she knows, she knows if she speaks to him, if he gets a chance to try and talk her down in the heightened emotional state she’s in after talking to Gibbs, she won’t be able to hold it in. She won’t be able to deal with seeing emotionally charged and hurt Nick. So she ignores him and McGee and does what she thinks she has to do. How hard did it have to be for Ellie to tell Vance not to defend her, and that their intel was correct? 🥺🥺 it goes against everything she’s ever stood for and she just went and did it. She hates liars and yet she lied. She loves her country and yet she claimed she committed treason. Her body language once again screams uncomfortable but trying to play it off. She’d nodding and repeating it over and over because she needs to convince herself of the words. They leave a bitter taste in her mouth and she can’t stop it. All she can do is clench her jaw a little tighter and get it over with and convince herself. 

Nick is in disbelief, obviously. McGee looks like he’s five seconds from breaking down because his little sister is supposedly a traitor??? Like he can’t believe it. He’s hurt she would do something like this even though he still knows in his gut that it can’t possibly be true. And oh FUCK the part where Nick’s voice cracks asking if Vance fired Ellie. Fuuuuuuuck me. This man’s heart is breaking for what’s happening to Ellie and being completely in the dark about it. Sure they weren’t really clear on what “they” were after The Talk but still. He thought she was open with him. Ever since the jail cell, things had shifted and he thought she’d been honest with him. He’d picked up on those little things, but maybe it was just training or something, NOT committing alleged treason and quitting the one career she loved. Not leaving him in the dark and vanishing without so much as a word. Not that. Because she KNOWS his past, she knows how much shit he’s been through with people in his life leaving without so much as a goodbye. And his voice continues to crack asking about what’s going on because he’s literally in shock. McGee is desperately trying to keep it together, keep some sort of figurehead for the team. Nick is in shambles ok, just like I’m in shambles. He’s adamant she didn’t do it because he KNOWS her. He knows she would never in a million years leak classified intel and now he’s just confused like a lost and kicked puppy. She didn’t DO IT, and she’s not answering her PHONE. He just wants to talk to her, he just wants to know she’s ok, wants to comfort her, wants to convince her to stop and it’ll be alright and he’ll take care of her and he’ll save her because that’s all he wants to do and always has, right? Save her. Save her from everything in this world that could hurt her. Protect her from life’s dangers. Protect her because he can’t bear the thought of losing her. And that all is crumbling down around him. All of it, crashing down like an avalanche, ready to bury him alive in grief and guilt and despair and anger. How am I supposed to TALK to her, he just wants to fucking be with her. He just wants to be there. With her. For the rest of their lives.

Ellie looking at the hat, please. That’s a lifetime of regret packed into one facial expression right there. She’s looking at that hat, the one she cherishes from the moment Gibbs hands it to her, and knows it’ll be the last time she ever sees it again. It’s not something she can take with her, and it’s full of fond memories—most happy, some sad, a few bittersweet—but memories that have made her life whole the past 8 years. And there’s officially no going back, she’s admitted to treason, there’s no way out of that. She’s having to say goodbye to all of her career without saying goodbye to any of them, all of that is wrapped up in that hat. A hat that’s so simple but signifies so much to her. She definitely was not expecting McGee to come out and so her rebuttals to him are exasperated and grasping at straws initially. She tries sarcasm and then she tries to brush it off “it doesn’t matter, it’s done […] I get that, I don’t want to talk about it” when McGee voices that he’s hurt over this and her reputation matters to him. Because he’s like another brother to you dammit Ellie. Yeah he’s grown since he said Ziva was like a sister to him and just stomped on your heart, he didn’t say it then but you’re like a sister to him too Ellie. I love that he fights her on it, and Ellie is like shit I have to come up with something. I don’t think she expected McGee of all people to fight her on this and I’m so glad he did. A little bit of growth because he is not going to see another person he views as family leave him again. And Ellie’s half assed excuses please, all of it is just such BULLSHIT because when they first debriefed she was just like “ethical? Hmmm” nothing more, nothing about being a vigilante and being up in arms over this like she claims she was. Bullshit Ellie, bullshit. And the PARALLELS TO FUCKING GIBBS. THIS IS WHAT YOU DID GIBBS, THIS IS YOU. LOOK WHERE YOU FUCKING PUSHED ELEANOR BISHOP TO STOOP TO. McGee begging her to regret it and Ellie pulls a Gibbs and is like NOPE. WONDER WHERE THE FUCK SHE LEARNED THAT FROM HUH. Gibbs you are singlehandedly responsible for this shit and how Ellie broke Nick’s heart and whatever happens to her on this stupid mission. I’m glad your dumb boat blew up, you deserve it. 

“I don’t want protection” because I can’t have you all following me. 

“It kills me that I lied to the people I was closest to” not about what you think I’m lying about but what I’ve been hiding. It kills me that I can’t tell you the real reason for this. It kills me.

“It wasn’t years ago for us” McGee rip my heart out please it will hurt less. And Ellie just playing into all of it. Knowing that she needs him and everyone else to hate her and not trust her. Her entire livelihood and backstory rely on them hating her and not following her, believing she’s the enemy and she’s hid these kinds of secrets for so long. Believing she’s a criminal and it was all a farce. She has to play into it. She has to. It’s the only way she will survive, they’ll survive. Odette likely fed her this shit, cut all ties, make sure no one follows, make sure no one is attached, burn all bridges. 

Ah and we’re back to pissed Nick. Nick who doesn’t like to be left in the dark ever, let alone when it deals with Bishop. Getting his edgy self being rude to Kasie but Kasie doesn’t even bat an eyelash. She knows Nick is hurting and she reaches out to him, she doesn’t take his tone to heart because she knows. Nick saying he wouldn’t know how she’s doing is just like a knife to the heart. He wants to know, desperately. He once thought he was the person she would go to in times like these but now all he’s getting is radio silence, a cold shoulder, and screened phone calls. He’s in visceral pain from the thought of her going through this alone, pain from everything he once thought true and good being destroyed in a day’s time. And Kasie is shocked that Nick hasn’t spoken to her. If that doesn’t tell you she knows that they are a thing and the gravity of all this, I don’t know what will. Nick should have spoken to her, clearly he wants to, in every other situation he would have already. But Kasie (and Jessica) just realized Ellie is shutting Nick out and that is Not Good. 

Back to Gibbs. Fucking asshole he is. McGee comes to you desperate to help his sister, Gibbs’ “daughter” and he goes “I think she’s at a crossroads” ???? Acting like he didn’t fucking encourage her at this so-called crossroads???? Like ???? The fuck???? Her crossroads was painfully obvious when she came to talk to you and YOU basically treated her like you couldn’t care less about her. That you had no clue what she was dealing with in her life and said as much. So yeah, she WAS at a fucking crossroads until you SHOVED her into oncoming traffic and said have a nice fucking life. AND THEN. McGee wants to help her and Gibbs tells him he can’t??? “Not this time” bitch this is YOUR FAULT. YOU COULD HAVE HELPED HER. COULD HAVE TALKED TO HER AT LEAST SOMEWHAT AND YOU DIDN’T. YOU SAID YOU DIDN’T REALIZE SHE WAS SPIRALING AND THAT YOU DIDN’T REGRET LEAVING YOUR SO-CALLED FOUND FAMILY IN THE DUST AND GUESS WHAT. SHE WENT AND PARROTED YOUR WORDS RIGHT BACK AT MCGEE SO FUCK YOU GIBBS. 

Ooooh Nick looks lethal, love that look, hate why he has that look though. Lol Nick getting ready to go murder the dude in interrogation because he set up Ellie and he’s just ignoring the fact that she claims she committed treason because he already knows there is literally no way on earth that she did it. And Vance realizing that Nick needs to stand down like fiiiiiiinally someone realized it. Obviously he isn’t gonna listen and poor Nick, this boy has it bad and he’s truly just SO WORRIED for what Ellie is about to do. Because right there, the confirmation that the file was a plant, that was the final puzzle piece falling into its perfect place. Every single thing he questioned, every little moment he’d replayed in his head, it all made sense. And he was so very pissed she hadn’t come to him- and honestly I think part of him is trying to ignore the WHY that’s behind that because he truly wouldn’t be able to think straight if he went there. I think that would be his end, going into the why she didn’t trust him, why she lied, why it hurts him so much. It would be the end, and yet…we’re just beginning here. And of course he knows exactly who is manipulating Ellie, he hadn’t trusted that scum from the start. So of course he goes straight to Odette’s cabin and lays in wait, probably pouring over all the documents and things Ellie did or didn’t leave behind there. 

Ellie pulling up in the truck and that heavy sigh? Yeah, she’s still not convinced this is a good idea. She’s running on emotions but that logical part of her (and deep down, her heart, knowing what she’s about to do- who she’s about to cut out of her life) is whispering of how very bad an idea this is. She still has to gather her willpower to get out of that car but when it’s Gibbs calling her? The same Gibbs that basically just kicked her out the door without so much as a wave goodbye? Yeah, the emotion just came rushing back, pushing the logic aside. She claims she can’t tell Nick because no shit if she has to look him in the face and lie and still say goodbye, it’ll kill her. She’s honestly not sure if she can go through with it. 

OH we back to a Gibbs hate novel, hold on. “I’M REALLY PROUD OF YOU BISHOP” WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. I’M REALLY PROUD YOU’RE THROWING EVERYTHING YOU EVER WORKED FOR AWAY, PUSHING THE ONES YOU LOVE THE MOST OUT OF YOUR LIFE, SACRIFICING YOUR ONE SHOT OF LOVE THAT YOU OF ALL PEOPLE DESERVE THE MOST. I’M SO PROUD OF YOU. Oh fuck OFF Gibbs. “Following your gut” oh shut UP. I just don’t understand this part. I don’t understand it, and I’m trying so hard for it to make sense, for it to be in character. Like does Gibbs have any clue?? I’m sure he recognizes the signs, I’m sure he has an inkling at this point. So how would he be proud? How the FUCK would he say he’s learned some stuff from her. Does he mistakenly trust Odette because of what she did for Ziva? Is he just so self-absorbed he doesn’t completely comprehend what Ellie is doing leaving Nick behind??? And Rule 91 is a load of shit. “When you decide to walk away, don’t look back” how FUCKING STUPID. Like Gibbs of all people, you should understand that is a SHIT rule. You’ve lost the people you loved dearly and you think she should just never look back? Like are you saying this so that Ellie has a clear head for the undercover op? Are you hoping she doesn’t get herself killed by being wrapped up in what she left behind??? What the actual fuck. Stupid ass rule honestly. It’s what you live by Gibbs and look how well that turned out for you. Look at the family you ditched. Nice fucking job. 

“It’s done” and “what are you talking about I did everything you asked” ok she’s 100% being manipulated and almost blackmailed somehow. There’s no other explanation. Eleanor Raye Bishop wouldn’t do this shit. Not willingly, not if she knew how much Nick loved her and how much she loved him (which if her words in just a minute are any indication, yeah she had a fucking clue). Odette calling Nick a loose end just SCREAMS how she purposefully fucking chose the moment Ellie and Nick started to get close to decide it was time for Ellie to go undercover. I just KNOW it. She’s a manipulative bitch and there is no limit to the rock bottom she will stoop to. 

Ellie knows who she’s talking about and the just look of fuck I have to actually tell him to his face. The doubt and grief and guilt and all of it, flashing across her face as she realizes she has to do this. She has to face this, she has to lie. She has to break his trust (not that she hasn’t already) something SHE made so painstakingly clear she needed from Nick. Nick is rightfully *pissed* I mean who can blame him. Ellie with her, “I have nothing to be sorry for.” I know Ellie is just doing her best to burn bridges, the hesitation and avoidance leading up to this lends itself to no other interpretation. She is going to say anything and everything to make sure Nick does not follow her. Make sure he stays as far away as possible from her. She can’t bear the thought of him getting hurt in some way from all this. Even though he may not get physically hurt, I don’t think she realizes the heart break is going to be worse. The painful part is Nick understands, he understands why she wants to do undercover. He had seen that glimmer in her eye when they were Charlie and Luis, he gets it, he’s been there. And he wishes so desperately he could impress every lesson he’s learned on her right then and there but at the same time he knows it won’t change a thing. He just wishes in vain that their love would change her mind, even if logic wouldn’t, their love surely could. I think Ellie starts to realize just how much Nick can see through her and that’s why she owns up to the fact that Odette planted the files, and also why I believe the leak was all an elaborate hack that Ellie didn’t know about. 

Then we get to the even more painful part of Nick giving us a glimpse of his raw heart. The why now with a voice crack and Ellie’s hedge at now wasn’t her choice with her own voice cracking, just is so so so telling. She could lie, she could really work at burning this relationship in a blaze of glory but she doesn’t, she owns up to the fact that she didn’t purposefully choose now (aka right when they were starting to figure things out between them), she’s not pulling the strings. Nick coming back with so you had a choice is like the little 5 year old boy whose dad is walking out on him again and it just HURTS. And at the same time Ellie is also the young, insecure agent right now who just wants to prove herself. She wants to be viewed as “ready” and the man whose opinion she bases way too much of her self-worth in didn’t say he was proud of her until she was upending her career to go on some deep cover op where she ditches everyone important in her life. 

“How long?” “Too long.” Yeah ok FUCK ME. They both know exactly what they’re talking about without even saying the actual words. Ellie’s voice cracks once again because of the emotion in Nick’s voice and what he’s implying. It pains her to leave him and what they’re becoming behind. It viscerally hurts her, you can see it on her face. She doesn’t want it to be too long, but she knows it will be. She can’t fathom that he’d stay or wait for her, she doesn’t think she even deserves that. 

Tbh it’s so hard to put this all into words. To fully convey to you how angry and hurt I am over this shit. Ellie’s being manipulated and hurt that she has to burn this bridge and push Nick as far away from her as possible. She thinks its her only out and what should be expected of her based off her conversation with Gibbs because then she parrots his exact words back at Nick when he begs, literally begs her to say something after she was willing to leave without saying goodbye (which we know is because she didn’t think she was going to be able to look Nick in the eye and still go through with it all), “sometimes there’s nothing left to be said” like fuck you Gibbs for planting that in her head. There’s PLENTY left to be said. Clearly Nick was not pleased you blew him off Ellie, he wants you to say anything that would make this make sense (we all are tbh) and she says you know my *favorite* line, “I didn’t mean for us to happen.” Nick is all of us with his “something else” because WHAT THE FUCK. This is how I know Ellie was going full throttle with her strategy of pushing Nick away. This was the one thing she could say that would hit hardest for Nick. The man who is insecure about anyone truly loving him and him being a person deserving of a love that “stays” and for Ellie to say she didn’t mean to fall in love and even though they did she’s still going to leave because it was never in the plan, just damn, stab him in the back and twist that knife Ellie. And just like her body language this WHOLE TIME 💀💀💀 she’s just shaking her head because she doesn’t even believe her own words, she doesn’t want to confront this, she doesn’t want to end this. There’s tears in her eyes because everything she’s saying is a lie and it hurts it hurts so damn much but she has to. She’s been manipulated into believing she has to do this, has to say these things. And his body language too, I mean he is tight. He is standing so rigid, hands clasped behind his back because he’s trying to convey openness and vulnerability and it’s so much growth for Nick, so much growth and Ellie is still ripping his heart out and stomping on it. And when she chokes out that goodbye you can hear and feel how final she believes it to be. She doesn’t think he’ll stick around or even want to. In this vein I think she underestimates his love for her here. And if the show goes a different way with it, they’re little bitches. It is in character for Nick to do everything in his power and outside of the rules to find & save Ellie. I will riot if I don’t see unhinged Nick some point early in s19 (I say like I’m going to watch religiously), because that is the only logical reaction to her leaving like this. 

The kiss. It’s a beautiful fucking kiss and it’s ruined by context. It’s an emotional kiss, Ellie throws her body behind it, gripping his face with both hands because she doesn’t want to let him go (even though she’s going to), she clutches to this memory like she clutches to his face. Nick’s clenched expression because he doesn’t want to open his heart up to more heartbreak but when he leans into the kiss and gives the kiss back you know he’s a goner. And maybe a part of him doesn’t care because this may be his last memory of her for a long time and he’s going to burn it into his memory too. It’s why he keeps his eyes shut after she’s left for so long, he doesn’t want to open them and the reality of her retreating back be the last thing he sees of Ellie. He wants the kiss to be the last thing, he doesn’t want to face his reality. His hands had even come out from behind his back, reaching out to her subconsciously willing her not to leave. Meanwhile, Ellie opens her eyes for that last kiss on the cheek to get one last long look at Nick, one last look that will hold her over for who knows how long. A look at his vulnerable face, a face she loves. A look that she hopes will keep her warm at night even though she knows she’ll never get it this close to her again because there’s no way in hell that Nick would entertain the thought of them together again after what she’s done. She doesn’t look back because she can’t. She can’t see Nick’s wounded face just standing there, broken or she won’t go. And Nick tries to stand resolute, the anger and pain flashing across his face before he grits his teeth together and *hopefully* resolves to find Odette and kill her I mean save Ellie I mean kill Odette 🙊

Anyways, there’s only a very specific way this entire finale makes sense. And I know Emily’s pregnancy threw it for a loop, but they can still SOMEWHAT fix this. Do I think they will? Hell fucking no. I have zero expectations, in fact negative expectations. I have a feeling what we were supposed to see is Nick going on an absolute swan rampage to find Ellie and clear her name throughout the first couple episodes of s19 and with Emily leaving the show, I’m not sure how they’ll twist this. I can see why they thought this was a fun cliffhanger because it would eventually be resolved and I do believe they would’ve eventually gotten ellick together after Nick found her. But unless Emily comes back at the end of the show, that won’t happen, at least not on screen. And with that I just 🥲 I’m still mad, I’m still broken inside but yeah. I’m a masochist before anything else apparently and so I made myself rewatch and write this out. A bittersweet pissed off adieu to the WWR. maybe one day i’ll find another ship & show that gets this level of meta out of me, but it’s been real ellick, it’s been really real ❤️

[fumingspice]

All The Things She Said

Pairing: Lana Winters x Reader

Part | 1 2

Thank you for all the love! Requests are open :D

Lana dropped her head in her hand and rubbed her temples and you felt your face go red. Your group of friends on the other side of the room, who you thankfully had not informed of the night before, laughed at your embarrassment.

Attempting to diffuse the tension, Lana approached the three of you with textbooks. "Take these," she said, her glare went straight through you. "And please don't be late to my class again."

You could feel the skin under your necklace burn as your hands made contact while she passed you the books. You could tell she felt something too when her face flinched slightly. There was something different about her.

She was wearing her wedding ring.

Lana noticed that you had seen it. "Stay behind after class."

The three of you took your seat at the back row, and you did your best not to look up during as much of the lesson as possible, resorting to taking notes from the book. Your face burned with the anticipation of Lana's confrontation. You had borderline lied to her about something that could risk the integrity of her career and her reputation. The guilt almost sickened you to your stomach and your friends could sense it.

"You gotta keep calm," Emmett whispered to you, knocking his knee against yours to tell you to stop bounding your leg. You peaked up for the first time in the lesson while the others were taking notes. Lana averted her glance as soon as you did so. "She's been looking up at you every time she gets a moment."

You rubbed your forehead with two fingers and peeled your necklace from under your shirt. It was white-hot. "What the fuck?" You muttered to yourself, getting Emmett's attention.

"I didn't know you had one of those," he said. "Maybe it means that its pair is close by-" Emmett stopped himself and looked from you to Lana.

The bell rang before he had a chance to finish himself. "We'll wait for you in the cafeteria."

The class filed themselves out as you remained in your chair, Heather gave you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder as she left.

You watched Lana smile at your classmates as she crossed the room back to her desk. The suspense was killing you.

Finally, Lana stood up again and sat on her desk, folding her arms, and staring right at you. "Come over here, please," she said, darting her eyes to the floor.

You followed her instructions and sat at the desk opposite.

Lana played with a pendant on her necklace as she seemed to gather the words to use.

"Do you understand the severity of what happened last night, and why we can't go through with tonight's plan?" she asked after a moment of silence, her whiskey brown eyes finally meeting yours.

"Because you're married?" You replied, slightly meaner than you intended to sound. Lana's eyes look inflicted by your comment.

She took off her ring and laid it on the desk. "You lied to me. You told me you weren't younger than twenty-one and Jesus Christ, why did I want to believe you so bad?" She put her head in her hand and for a moment you were unaware if she was talking to you or herself.

"No, I didn't," you replied. Technically. "I told you that a lot of people think I'm younger than twenty-one. I'm eighteen."

Lana took a minute to regain her composure. "Y/N, I think you're an amazing, beautiful, incredibly funny and smart young lady and I would love to have gone on with whatever we had started. Though, at the end I am still your teacher and you're still my student. That's like fifty shades of illegal," she said. Her eyes were trained on the ground now as she straightened her back.

Your necklace was beginning to burn your fingers now and you could see Lana was rubbing her chest. You stepped closer to her as she backed against her table and put your hand under hers.

But I thought she didn't wear her necklace?

Her necklace was hot too. You pulled her necklace from under her blouse and inspected it. In that moment you finally felt like you were able to one-up even Aria Montgomery.

"Does that mean-?"

You rubbed your temples. "Good golly, this is going to cause the worst migraine ever."

Lana looked visibly stressed too. "Surely there's a mistake, right?"

You stared at her hard. "Soul necklaces have never made a mistake in the history of their goddamn existence, Lana!"

The teacher groaned. "The only reason I put this on was because last night you reminded me that I actually had one and I wanted to throw it in my husband's face that there's someone else better than him-" she stopped herself in her rant to inhale hard "-even though that's not too fucking hard. I did not. In a million years. Put this on to match with one of my students."

"How about the chick who tried to pick you up in a bar, then. Would you have wanted to match with her?"

Lana looked like she was about to strangle you, and you weren't necessarily opposed to that. "Y/N, please for the love of God don't make this harder for me. I've been thinking about you since I got home last night." You could see tears in her eyes and a pang of guilt hit you hard.

You walked to the door, peered down the hallway to make sure it was empty and closed the door.

"Lana-"

"Ms. Winters."

"Way to remove the power dynamic," you muttered sarcastically. Lana tried to hide a blushing smile. "I have six months left. I can pretend you're just my teacher and you can pretend I'm just your favourite student of all time."

Lana bit her lip. "You're still flirting with me? You looked like a deer in headlights when you walked in."

You felt your face glow red in embarrassment. "I thought I was gonna pass out."

That much was true. When it had finally hit you that Lana was your new French teacher you had felt a weight on your heart like never before.

"So, sixth months of pretending. I think I can cope with that," Lana said. She was less stressed now. Well, from whatever relief the conversation had provided.

You nodded and peeked through the window by the door. The hallway was clear. You turned back to face Lana and took a step towards her. The teacher could sense her apprehension as you laid a hand on her cheek and pulled her close to you.

You looked up into her eyes and waited for her cue. She nodded, her eyes locked with yours before they shut and lent in. Her lips pressed against yours and her hands curled in your hair as you worked to deepen the kiss. Lana backed right onto the desk until she was sitting right on it, one of your hands reached down to grab her thigh and pull it to your waist.

Her hands dropped to the back of your neck. You were bewildered. How could something be so wrong yet feel so right? This went against almost every moral code you had with your teachers. You were a model student and now here you between a teacher's legs.

Lana pulled away abruptly. "I don't want to go further than kissing while you're still in school," she whispered.

You smirked. "Please. You didn't even plan on kissing back, did you?"

Lana shook her head as she shuffled off the desk and grabbed her bag from the chair.

You had never seen anyone jump as high as Lana Winters did when Emmett banged the door open.

"Mother of Jesus in a tank. Can't either of you be gentle with the doors in this school?!" She exclaimed. "You'll give me a heart attack one of these days."

"Sorry, Ms. Winters," Emmett muttered. He stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. "I won't stay for long. I also just wanted to say that you don't need to worry about Heather and I saying anything, because we won't. But Heather is also getting impatient and wants to know if you need a lift home."

You shook your head. "I'll be a few minutes. I can walk home but tell her I said thank you."

Emmett gave a thumbs up and left.

"It's raining cats and dogs outside," Lana said. "You'll catch your death of cold."

"I'm a fast runner, Ms. Winters."

Lana shook her head. "What kind of person would I be if I let my favourite student walk home in the rain, hm?" She held up her keys and headed to the door.

You walked behind her while she informed a superior that she was driving you home. Child protection policy and whatnot. Ironic.

Lana sat in the driver's seat and blasted the heat.

"What's your address?" She asked, booting up the sat nav. You recalled her saying that she had only recently moved to this city.

"Sixteen Eli Boulevard," you replied, checking a message from your mom. She was making Carbonara for dinner.

Lana stopped. "You're kidding, right?"

"Are you being serious right now? Why would I kid about where I live?"

Lana pursed her lips and laughed. "I just moved into that neighbourhood yesterday."

Well, that was convenient.

"So, I can be expecting a lot more car rides with you, Ms. Winters?"

Lana cocked her head at you and frowned as she began driving. "Can we establish some ground rules? Like no flirting on school grounds? We can't afford for that to happen again."

You nodded in slightly disappointed agreement.

"In school, at least."

You paused, turning to take in the view of the mountain that sat beside your small town. You never seized to be amazed at that view.

“Can we reschedule our date? I know a place outside of town,” you say. Lana squeezed her eyebrows hard in thought.

“How far out of town are we talking?”

“An hour or so on the train. Give or take.”

Lana stopped the car outside your drive. “I can do Saturday.”

Perfect.

You heaved yourself out of her car and gave her hand a squeeze. It was the closest thing to a kiss you could manage.

What on Earth am I doing to myself.

taglist: @its-soph-xx @delias-bitch-craft  @sarahpaulsonsoftie @jumpoffabridge-t @coffee-is-below-my-standards @definitelynot-a-writer​ @bottom4delia

[cryingoverafictionalcharacter]

Terrible Dancers

Prompt: You are spending the holidays at the burrow with George, Fred, Ginny and the golden trio. The house is packed most of the time, which is fine seeing you love everyone there *cough* especially Fred *cough* but when you get a chance of having some guaranteed alone time, you take it to your advantage. Only realizing you weren't totally alone when Fred comes downstairs to see you dancing around the living room in your pajamas, leading to a dance battle, laughing, and a confession.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, cute things, that's it I thing?

A/N:Is this probably the lamest, most corny, most bazar fic I’ve ever written? Yes, but this idea came to me when I was listening to ABBA in the car and I couldn’t not write it, So there will be 80s muggle music references in this to give you the full ⭐experience ⭐ . Anyway I hope you all enjoy it! Feel free to leave any fic recs. 

A/N2: I AM IN THE MIDDLE OF WRITING THIS AND OMG PLEASE PLAY THE SONG I’LL WRITE IN WHEN JUST OMG IM CRYING.

You were currently sat on on of the couches in the burrow, your legs kicked up in front of you as you read a book. It was one of the few times you were able to find some quiet in the burrow. You loved the burrow, you thought of it as your second home, but with Arthur, Molly, Fred, George, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and yourself all staying for the Holidays, you had to admit it was a bit crowded.

However, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had least earlier in the day, saying they were running errands, which was probably code for doing something illegal, but you knew they were fine so you took the opportunity to finally catch up on a book Hermione had recommended to you. 

After about an hour of reading, Molly walked in, greeting you with a smile that lit up the room. You smiled back, marking your place in your book and putting it down beside you.

“Hello dear, the boys and I were going to head off and do some last minute holiday shopping, would you like to join us?” She asked.

“I’ve gotten all my shopping done, so I think I’ll just stay in today if that alright?” You asked.

“Of course! Though you will be here alone, you know where everything is if you need something?” Molly asked, concern in her voice. You nodded.

“Yes, thank you” You smiled.

“Alright, we’ll be back by sundown, try to enjoy the peace and quiet” Molly joked, making you laugh.

“I will, have fun!” You said, watching as Molly left the room headed towards the fireplace, before opening your book again to continue reading.

It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes before you started feeling antsy. The house was quiet. Too quiet. The burrow was known for always being active and full of laughing, happy people, so now that the only sound in the whole house was the steady ticking of the clock, you had to admit, it was a little freaky being the only one here.

You quickly closed your book, and idea popping into your head. You decided to bring your Walkman when you left to go to the burrow just in case you ever needed to block out the noise. You hadn’t used it at all so far, and now seemed like the perfect time.

You ran upstairs into the room you were sharing with Ginny and Hermione, digging through your bag and pulling out the rectangular object. Your parents had made you a mixtape of your favorite songs before you left, and while you loved some popular wizard singers, you missed your music.

You ran back downstairs, putting the Walkman down and pressing play, the music instantly starting up, playing one of your favorite songs.

A Man After Midnight, by ABBA

You walked to the empty area in front of the couch and started to dance, swaying your hips a bit, before starting to sing the words.

“Half past twelve and I’m watching the late show in my flat all alone, how I hate to spend the evening on my own.”

As you were singing you started swaying around the room, grabbing your wand to use as a microphone, and continuing to get more and more energetic as the song went on. 

“Is there a soul out there?”

You stopped moving just tapping your foot, slowly raising the hand that wasn’t holding the wand.

“Someone to hear my prayers........”

“Gimme Gimme Gimme a man after midnight!” You sang at the top of your lungs, jumping around the room and singing into your wand. You were so lost in the moment, you didn’t notice the figure walking down the stairs, until-

“Take me through the darkness through the break of the- JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!” Your singing was cut off by the sound of you screaming, well cursing, as you turned around to see Fred staring at you with a confused, half asleep look, a grin spread across his face. “What the fuck are you doing?” You practically yelled, running over to switch off your radio.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Fred laughed, the slight smile he had before now turning into a shit eating grin.

“You know, just.... dancing’” You said, desperately trying to act casual, like your crush of two years didn’t just walk downstairs, shirtless by the way, to see you dancing around like a maniac”

“I can see that. Its awful” Fred joked, making his way down the rest of the stairs and walking over to you.

“Shut up I’m amazing. Wait I thought you and your family were going out shopping” You said, suddenly remembering you were supposed to be alone.

“Yeah, George tried to make me to come along, but I didn’t wake up so my mum left a note” He said, sitting on the couch in front of you.

You nodded in understanding, trying your best to look Fred in the face, instead of letting your eyes wander to his hair which was currently sticking out in all directions. Or toward his chest which was currently bare exposing a constellation of freckles, or at how low his sweatpants were hanging-

“Earth to Y/N” Fred said, waving a hand in front of your face, snapping you out of your thought.

“Oh yeah, nice, cool” You said nodding, rocking back on your heels.

“What were you listening to, it doesn’t sound familiar?” Fred asked, leaning back on the couch.

“Oh, it’s a muggle band called ABBA, they’re basically music goddesses” You joked, walking over to your Walkman picking it up and handing it him.

“That's a lot of praise, considering your horrible taste in wizard music” He said, making you playfully swat his arm, a fake offended expression crossing your face before smiling, pressing the play button and continuing the song.

“Huh, its actually not bad, what else do you have on this?” He asked smiling.

You smiled back, taking back the Walkman and skipping to the next song, which happened to be “Africa” by Toto.

“This one’s really popular, I think you’ll like it” You said, setting down the Walkman and going to sit next to him.

As the music started I could see Fred starting to bob his Head to the beat.

“I like it so far” Fred said

An hour later, and you and Fred were dancing around the living room, singing at the top of your lungs.

“So you think you can stop me and spit in my eye!” Fred yelled

“So you think you can love me and leave me to die!” You sang back

“Ooooooh baby, don’t do this to me baby, just gotta get out, just gotta get right out of here” You both sang in unison, Fred playing an air guitar as you sang into your wand.

As the slow started to slow down, you both just started swaying, smiling at each other and catching your breath. Finally after a moment the song ended, making you both laugh.

“That ones my favorite so far” Fred said laughing, going to take a break and sit on the couch, you plopping next to him.

“Its a classic” You laughed, taking a deep breath, trying to cool down from the very intense dancing. 

The next song started up and you instantly recognized it, practically lunging at the small radio to skip the song, but as soon as you hit the pause button, Fred snatched it out of your hands.

“Hey” You yelled, reaching to get the device back which Fred held over his head, making it hard to reach.

“What’s wrong with the next song?” Fred asked, making your face heat up a bit.

“It’s not really dancing music, my parents probably only added it on because they know it’s one of my favorites, but yeah it’s not that good we can skip it” You said quickly, attempting to get the radio back from Fred, but he still kept it over his head.

“Y/N, if you like it than I’m sure its great” Fred said smiling down at you. You let out a breath. You knew he wasn’t going to let it go until you played it.

“Fine” You said, Fred finally handing the radio back. You rewound the song so it would start from the beginning, before taking a breath, and pressing play.

*PLAY CAN’T HELPING FALLING IN LOVE BY ELVIS*

The music picked up, and with it your heartbeat, afraid of what Fred was going to say. You were internally panicking, playing one of the most iconic love songs ever written in front of your long time friend and crush.

You had been friends with this boy since first year. You might even go as far to call him your best friend. Sure there had been flirty moments but most of it was just kidding around, but this was different.

Before you could panic anymore though, Fred had stood up and turned to face you. A sly smile grew across his face before he held out his hand to you.

“Dance with me” 

“...What?” you asked, eyes widening. Were you hearing this right?

“Dance with me” Fred repeated. So without thinking you took his hand and stood up.

He led you to the middle of the living room, moving to put your right hand on his shoulder, holding your left and resting his other hand on your waist, making your breath hitch in your throat.

“Trying to make a move on me Weasley?” You joked, trying to ease the tension.

“Maybe” He said smiling, but it wasn’t his usual joking smile, it was more sincere.

You started to sway to the music, laughing as Fred twirled you, your hand moving back to its original place on Fred's shoulder.

As the music continued to play, you couldn’t help but listen to the lyrics, while looking up at the boy you were dancing with, finding he was already looking at you.

“Like a river flows, surely to the sea, darling so it goes, some things are meant to be”

Fred suddenly wrapped his arm around your back, moving to dip you backwards, startling a laugh out of you, before he pulled you back up, pulling your chest closer to his, barely leaving any room between you to.

“For I can’t help, falling in love with you”

You moved your hand out of his, instead moving to rest your arms around Fred’s neck, Fred moving his now free hand to your other hip.

“Who taught you how to dance?” You jokingly asked, once again trying to relive the tension that had grown between you too.

“Would you believe me if I said I’m just a natural?” Fred smiled

“Definitely not” You smiled back, making a light chuckle leave his lips.

“Take my hand, take my whole life too, for I can’t help, falling in love with you”

“I think this might be my new favorite song” Fred said, making you roll your eyes but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face.

“Why’s that” You asked, noticing how Fred’s demeanor seemed to get more serious compared to his usual playful attitude.

“Because it’s your favorite song, and you’re my favorite person” Fred said.

The butterflies that were in fluttering in your stomach before were now in a frenzy, your heart beating like crazy. You continued to sway to the music, slowing as the song finally stopped. Fred moved a hand up to move a strand of hair out of your face, before closing the space between you, connecting your lips.

You pulled him closer as well, kissing him back and moving your hands to his hair while his moved back to your waist. After a moment your finally pulled away, looking into each others eyes.

“You’re my favorite person too” You said, making the both of you smile.

“Is that the end of the tape?” Fred asked, noticing that the music wasn’t continuing.

“Yep, but I have another one one second” You said, moving out of Fred’s grasp to sprint up the stairs, Fred laughing behind you.

You came back downstairs, a new tape in ahnd. You quickly switched out the tack and pressed play, waiting for the music to start.

“Who did you say was your favorite person again?” Fred asked as you walked back over to him, laughing as you wrapped your arms around him. He moved to take a step back and stumbled, tripping over the book you had put down earlier, and because you were already holding him, you fell as well.

“Shit! Are you ok?” You asked, landing on Fred’s chest, looking up at his face to see him laughing, sending you into a fit of laughter as well, before you were both cut off by the sound of the Walkman playing that oh so familiar Saxophone.

You would have appreciated the irony, but before you could you heard the front door open, looking over to see Ron, Hermione, and Harry all looking at you... laying on top of a shirtless Fred..... with careless whisper playing in the background.

“It’s not what it looks like!” you said, quickly sitting up, Fred helping you to stand so you could turn off the music.

“My eyes!” Ron shrieked

“She fell we weren’t!-” Fred started.

“We don’t want to hear it pervs” Harry said, a slightly joking tone in his voice.

“For shame” Hermione said shaking her head disappointedly, but as the two other boys left towards their room, she gave you a quick thumbs up before running off as well.

You listened in silence as the three ran up the stairs, the door slamming behind them. There were a few seconds of silence between you and Fred, neither of you knowing how to process what just happened.

“You know, we could do what it looked like” Fred said slyly.

“Fred!”

------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: I’m not going to lie, I think the ending is hilarious. Any who, I hope you enjoyed this super sappy, almost cringe worthy fic. Feel free to leave requests if you want. 

[alolowrites]

The Nightly Adventures of a Lost Shopper

Summary: Getting lost at night is one thing. But stumbling upon some crazy beating in a musty back alley? Yeah, no thanks. 

Author’s Note: Soooooo, it’s almost been a month since my last story 😅 Work life and gym life really are keeping me busy. Anyways, I was inspired by a prompt I saw on Tumblr and like always, I had to run with this stupid idea lmao.  Please enjoy! 

Genre: Mafia!AU (if you squint lol) Warnings: Mentions of blood (just a smudge really); reader having no self-control when it comes to grocery shopping loll  Word Count: 1.6K+

You stand underneath a flickering streetlight, swiveling your head left and right as though you’re checking for some car to drive by. Everything is so eerily quiet that a squeaky noise makes you jump on the spot. You crane your neck up and sigh—it’s just a lonely traffic light swinging mindlessly in the breeze.

The yellow light blinks nonstop, unaware if it’s broken or maybe it does, and the thing really doesn’t care anymore. You don’t blame the poor traffic light; the streets are more dead than a groundskeeper working the midnight shift at the local cemetery. At least the worker knows where they are.

You, on the other hand, don’t and admit defeat. “Damnit, I’m lost.”

A hiss escapes your lips, and you grip the grocery bags that weigh like a stack of bricks. In hindsight, you should have created a shopping list. There’s a reason why you can’t be trusted with buying your groceries without some plan. Now you’re standing at an empty corner all alone in the middle of nowhere, dealing with two screaming arms and muttering a curse at your dead phone with the awful battery life.

“Alright, let’s just go this way,” you mutter and trudge forward, praying that your bags don’t tear open. You can only handle one problem at a time. Yet, your life is anything but simple. The universe always has something up its sleeve for you, just waiting for the right moment to strike.

Your bags might be intact, and there aren’t any dark clouds threatening to rain on your parade, but you do hear loud grunts in the far distance. They cut through the deafening silence almost instantly. You quirk an eyebrow and waddle closer, curiosity getting the best of you.  

Big mistake.

In front of you is a man screaming in agony, crouched over as he endures powerful punches from the red beast towering over him. The blows never stop, each one more brutal and vicious than the last. No shred of mercy given despite the desperate pleads howling into the deep night. You watch helplessly as the final punch is thrown. The sheer force alone breaks the man’s ribs so hard that a sharp pop echoes throughout the narrow alley.

The red-haired guy tugs his personal punching bag and growls, “You ready to talk now?”

“Yes-s.”

“Good, so where’s the money you owe us?”

“At a secret hideout,” he rasps, blood dripping out his swollen mouth. “I-I can take you there a-and give you the money-y. I promise!”

He gets dropped like an old sack. “Drag him to the car.”

“Got it, Big Red.”

Said man finally turns around, and your heart stops. His bright red eyes land on you, blinking in surprise. You stare back at him, wondering if you can just crawl into the disgusting dumpster and hide there. But you don’t move a muscle nor say a word, too shocked at what you’ve just witnessed.

Oh my god, am I an accomplice? You grip the bags tighter in your hands, and his eyes glance at them before looking at you again. Eventually, you mentally slap yourself out of your stupor, blurting out the first thing on your mind.

“I’m sorry!” You stumble backward, legs shaking for dear life. “I-I didn’t see anything! I’m just—gah!”

You spin on your heel, wobbling out of there before who knows what could happen to you. Getting lost at night is one thing. But stumbling upon some crazy beating in a musty back alley? Yeah, no thanks.

“Hey, wait!”

You freeze at the sound of his voice—it’s rough and commanding but not too intimidating. His footsteps falter, and you quietly count to ten before turning around, your bags rustling behind your legs. The man (Big Red was it?) stares at you, almost like he’s figuring out where you fit in this bizarre puzzle he’s trying to solve.

Meanwhile, your eyes bounce between him and the barely conscious punching bag that’s being dragged to the black SUV, leaving a trail of red droplets in its wake. You swallow a tiny gulp; this is all too much.  

“Listen, I swear I didn’t see anything,” you exclaim, jumping on the defense. Seconds later, you wince at your mistake. “Okay, that’s a lie, b-but I promise I won’t say a word! I mean, not like I can call the cops on you since my phone is dead—”

“Huh? Wait a sec—”

“—which is honestly terrible since I’m lost! Do you know how long I’ve been walking all night? I’ll tell you: an eternity! And my arms feel like they’re about to fall apart any second now because these bags,” you shake them like a pair of maracas, “ are heavy!”

“Hey—”

At this point, you start airing out all your grievances in one go.

“I think there’s a pebble inside my left shoe, rolling around like it owns the place. My house keys keep pinching me against my hip, and one of my shoelaces feels so loose that it’s probably untied, waiting for me to trip.” Suddenly, the stress becomes overwhelming that your lips quiver. “It’s super late right now. I’m all alone and scared and—and,” you thrash the bags while wailing, “and my ice cream is melting!”

You inhale sharply like a person reaching the water’s surface after a deep dive. Your face is flushed, and your heart beats a mile per second, the adrenaline soaring through your veins as you finish your explosive rant. Eventually, you calm down and remember who is standing in front of you. Big Red looks on in astonishment, his mouth gaping like a fish.

...I can’t believe I just did that.

“Oh, god. I...I-I’m sorry,” you stammer, ducking your head and closing your eyes as a feeble attempt to protect yourself. “Please don’t hurt me!”

“Hurt you?” You bravely peek at Big Red, who sports a concerned look. He cautiously steps forward with his hands raised. “I don’t wanna hurt you, trust me.”

You snap your head up in disbelief. “Y-You don’t?”

“Of course not,” he says, giving you a gentle smile that washes some of your fears away. Big Red takes another step closer. “Why would you think that I’d hurt you?”

You give him a ridiculous stare. “No offense, but you did beat up that guy into a bloody pulp; I’m pretty sure he has no ribs left.”

Big Red laughs, catching you off guard. He jerks his thumb at the parked car and gives you a lopsided grin. “Oh, him? He’s just business. I would never harm an innocent civilian, though. It’s part of the code.”

“Part of the code?” You scrunch your eyebrows. Then it hits you. “Oh...Ohhh.”

Everything makes sense now. The suspicious, burly men with fancy suits. The rather gruesome violence in a random yet bare alleyway. The vague demand for money that’s owed. Yup, you walked into an unfortunate episode with the mafia; just your luck. You raise one finger, mouth ready to say something but then decide against it.

Big Red notices your hesitation, scratching behind his neck like a guilty puppy. “Look, I’m sorry you had to see that. I didn’t mean to scare ya’ with all the blood and violence and, well, you know…” He laughs awkwardly, making the corners of your lips quirk.

His voice is so soft and gentle that your breath hitches. It’s unbelievable that this is the same man who was growling like a wild beast before. The memory fades away as you judge his words, realizing that there isn’t any malicious intent behind them; he is honest and sincere.

Perhaps Big Red is right—maybe he won’t hurt you. If he did, he would have done it by now. Instead, he flashes a friendly grin that brightens the entire block, unlike those deadbeat street lights. The grin alone is enough to make you relax and crack a small smile at him.

“Alrighty then,” you hum, tapping one finger on your grocery bag that miraculously hasn’t broken yet. Stepping back, you start making your exit. “I guess I’ll leave you to finish your, um, business.”

“Whoa, hold on!” Big Red squeezes your shoulder, stopping you mid-way. Without warning, he tugs the bags out of your grasp. You jump as his massive hands momentarily brush along your skin, making you fumble over your words like an idiot. Big Red then shouts over his shoulder to his buddies. “Go on without me, guys. I gotta help this sweet peanut here get back home.”

Your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. Sweet peanut? Get back home? Him carrying your grocery bags?

“Please, you really don’t need to—”

“I want to,” he cuts you off, his warm eyes and boyish grin leaving you speechless. Big Red adjusts the bags without breaking a single sweat. “Listen, you’ve been through a lot tonight; let me take you back home.”

You gawk at him. “Are you sure?”

“Yup!” He puffs out his chest and gives you a wink. “Besides, you won’t be scared or alone when you’re with me.”

Well, you can’t argue with that.

“I guess I won’t,” you chuckle, bowing your head slightly. “Thank you, Big Red.”

“Kirishima.”

“What?”

“My name is Kirishima,” he repeats, a blush creeping on his cheeks. “But-t Big Red is fine, too.”

You share your name and cheekily joke, “But Sweet Peanut is fine, too.”

Kirishima’s face lights up like the stars scattered across the night sky, absolutely smitten with you to the bone. He purposefully takes the longest route back to your house, hoping to spend as much time with you as possible. Luckily, you don’t mind—he is charming and sweet.

Guess it wasn’t so bad getting lost after all.

As always, thanks for reading! 

[omniswords]

Chronicles of a Parisian Dumbass 15

new year, new chapter c: it's been a while since i've worked on Chronicles—December Mood dips are Not Delicious, plus i started streaming regularly, which has been fun! ((i’m omnistruck on Twitch if you want to check it out 🥰) but rest assured i intend to see it through to the end. i hope you've been well <3 take care, and enjoy!

From: itsdjbubbles

My dude, if your stage presence is anything like this flyer, y’all are absolutely gonna kill it at La Tortue.

Well. Luka doesn’t know about that.

It’s not like Kitty Section is totally obscure. They’ve had a stage in Paris’s annual pop-up music festival or more than one occasion. And sometimes Juleka’s tagged along to street corners with him so they could duet in hopes of more than just pocket change. And, of course, there was that whole music contest with Bob Ross and XY, but that had only ended in fiasco: their music was stolen, Rose’s vocals ripped right off the track. Luka argued up and down over the phone until he was red in the face, nearly biked down to the studio and let them have it, but he could hardly prove it. And he cared too much about it jeopardizing Juleka’s happiness to follow through.

Total corporate bullshit. He didn’t know how Jagged Stone did it. When he said so at dinner the night he gave up, his Ma only tousled his hair and said, “You’re my boy, aren’t you?”

Sometimes he thinks that’s the strongest, bravest, he’s ever been. That all his audacity peaked years ago, and he’s only gotten worse since then.

Bubbles isn’t corporate bullshit. Luka feels like he’d be able to figure out something like that from conversation alone. But their talks have been friendly—and more than that, supportive. He’s even shown a few messages to the band, just to check that he wasn’t losing his mind. And he saw how their faces softened in approval, or lit up with excitement. Even Juleka’s.

Besides, Bubbles makes music. And when he samples something, he actually credits it. He knows how to play the game. And it feels like they’re on the same side of the board.

Bubbles has that stage presence; the fact that he only needs that one shadowy picture on his profile is more than enough of an indicator. And Bubbles has a reputation that precedes him. So even if they’re on the same side of the board, it feels like Bubbles is always just a couple of steps ahead.

At least his bandmates are on the same side, and at the same step. All it took was a casual mention, during a late-night band practice, of “the bakery he keeps getting their snacks from” being all in on getting them even more exposure. They didn’t exactly do a good job of hiding their excitement, but he wouldn’t have wanted them to, anyway. Even Juleka, after practice ended, had to admit, “You did good.” And then, with perhaps a bit more snark, “Maybe she’s the one trying to impress you. “

“Stop,” Luka said with a roll of his eyes, but he couldn’t help thinking about it once the partition between their beds was up. There was no way Marinette Dupain-Cheng was trying to impress him.

…Was there?

By now, nearly a day later, Luka’s still asking himself that. Still hemming and hawing like they have more than just two weeks to get their act together. Pacing below deck with his phone in his hand, thinking about pear tarts and pretty faces instead of going to see them in person, and staring at Marinette’s phone numbers until he thinks he’s accidentally memorized both of them.

He doesn’t recognize the pattern or the area code of one of them, so he can only assume that it's an American number. But he still hasn’t mucked up the courage to text or even save the French one in his phone. Why does he need to be scared in the first place? It’s a phone number, and this is strictly business, and everything between them has been strictly business.

Well. Nearly everything. Nearly strictly.

He thinks.

Okay. Okay. All he has to do is say… what? Hi? Who just starts texting someone for the first time with “Hi?” But he can’t go writing a whole essay either, even though at least now he has the power to edit his words instead of just saying them and hoping for the best.

This is harder than it needs to be. And yeah, maybe he’s just making it harder than it needs to be, but it’s not like his brain and the shake in his hands are giving him much of a choice in the matter.

Luka switches back over to his message thread with Bubbles and shoots off a quick reply—flatterer—because maybe answering something easy will make the hard stuff more tolerable. He finds himself looking toward his guitar as though it might lend him strength… well, what the hell. It couldn’t hurt. He plays a doodle or two, idle notes, and catches himself before his fingers can drift toward the beginning of the ocean-blue song. At this point, it’s neither perfect nor good, and he can’t tell if it’s personal dissatisfaction or the numbers that the latest draft has been doing online.

Both. It’s probably both.

Messaging Marinette ends up being just as hard after his attempts at centering as it was before—because as it turns out, the whole music-giving-him-unbridled-confidence thing really only works while he’s playing it. So now he’s left still staring at the blank NEW MESSAGE screen, the cursor blinking almost tauntingly at him because of course it is. Because somehow, he can write a note telling a girl her eyes are pretty and survive long enough to see her smile about it, but he can’t send that same girl a text. It’s not like he can even see her reaction this time, anyway; that just gives him even more of an advantage.

Okay. Okay. He can actually do this. Maybe. He thinks—no, no, he has to.

With a deep breath that he holds longer than he releases, Luka opens a new message.

To: Marinette hey. it’s luka.

And like an idiot, he hits SEND before he’s even put the rest of his message together. So now he has to make a mad dash to come up with something so he doesn’t seem like a total creep for messaging her out of the blue.

For fuck’s sake. This is exactly why he writes his messages in the notes first.

To: Marinette sorry, hit send before i could finish. anyway, just wanted to tell you the band is cool with the postcard idea. i can pay you next time i come to the bakery, if that’s cool.

To: Marinette anyway, it’s really cool of you to offer your help like this. sorry if i didn’t say so yesterday, it’s kind of been... a wild time.

Luka locks his phone before he can agonize too much over what he’s sent, stuffs it away and starts pacing again. It’s not a frantic, shaky thing; no, he’s learned to keep the shakes on the inside until no one’s around to see them. He jumps when his back pocket vibrates, and he nearly drops his phone trying to fish it out. It’s only Bubbles, and he can’t tell whether he’s relieved or disappointed until his phone buzzes again. Twice. And this time, it actually is from Marinette.

From: itsdjbubbles Sorry, I was getting some stuff ready for my next project. Listen, I’m just saying. Don’t sell yourself short as this stuff. Paris is gonna hear you up there, and it’s gonna lose its collective fucking mind.

From: Marinette hi luka ☺️ no worries, i do that too sometimes. here’s the mockup for the postcard. let me know what your band thinks, i’ll do some tweaks and send it to print. sound good?

Luka balks, both at the tone of the message and at the picture she sent. It looks almost exactly like the flyer, same color scheme and everything. The only difference seems to be in the composition, which makes sense; she’s got more of the eye for this stuff, even for someone who only “dabbles.”

To: Marinette wow, this is... thank you? that was fast. and this is really well put-together. i think they’re gonna love it.

you really weren’t kidding, huh.

Luka finds himself sinking onto his bed and staring at the message thread instead of actually doing something productive. And strangely, he’s fine with that. The more time passes, the less scary it is to see her typing back, again and again and again.

From: Marinette course i wasn’t kidding. “help” is practically my middle name to the people who matter.

and i mean, there’s only a little bit of time until your show, right? so, gotta get movin.

anyway, i gotta run. my friend needs help for his summer class and i promised i’d go visit today.

Keep me posted about your band!

♥️

There is far too much in that message for Luka to need to process. “People who matter?” “Keep me posted?” The literal heart emoji at the end? He reads their messages over and over, mostly to confirm that this really, actually just happened, but he’s not going to push his luck. Maybe she just talks to everyone like that, and more importantly, the two of them haven’t been much more than a series of transactions anyway.

A... lot of transactions.

That she’s been doing a lot of giving for.

Luka tries and at least sort of succeeds at shaking the thought from his mind; he can’t read hers, and he shouldn’t try to. He sends her one last text—cool, have a good one—and switches back to Bubbles before he can worry if his words were too casual.

To: itsdjbubbles Thanks for the vote of confidence. I guess you’re not the only one? the bakery I go to, they’re offering to help too.

or, I mean, CBG is offering to help.

Bubbles’s reply doesn’t come until a few hours later. It’s presumably after that project work he mentioned, and definitely after Luka’s had some time to play out the rest of the shakes before he goes busking. His phone buzzes with the notification just as he’s about to leave, and what Bubbles has to say makes his stomach churn and his blood run both hot and cold.

From: itsdjbubbles wait. wait wait wait. hold on i just scrolled your posts.

CBG is *Marinette Dupain-Cheng?*

ohhhhhhh my dude you are in for it now.

[rated-r-for-fear]

The Untamed women: kpop mix

For the Spotify playlist go here!

Like it says on the tin, this is a mix for the women of the Untamed with songs either by girl groups or female soloists. This mix also runs the gamut in terms of genre and vibe, but I did put a lot of thought into all the song selections! With a few exceptions I got all the lyrics from Color Coded Lyrics which is an incredible resource. It puts Hangul, romanization, and English side-by-side, as well as color coding every artist if it’s a song with multiple singers. It’s a life saver. 

Also the songs are listed in the order of uhhh character death just because making this list made me realize a lot of them do that, huh? At least we can send them out with some bangers!

 Lan Yi; Deja Vu - Dreamcatcher

Your two eyes, their glow is lost, Please erase all my memories Far away through the dense fog The far path I departed on only left hurtful marks Even as I try to grasp the ends of the dream Eventually, longer and longer I fall asleep in a deep silence

You kind of have to give a song from the pop-rock-metal girl group to the sect leader who invented how to kill people with music, eh?

Although ironically this song doesn’t go as hard as some of Dreamcatcher’s other releases. Don’t get me wrong, it builds and builds to a final section that makes me kind of want to have a fight a death with my long-lost love in the rain. Most of the time though it’s surprisingly regal and restrained. There are many times when it drops into gentle near silence (albeit not in an anti-drop sort of way.) It feels like it’s stimulating a building anger at someone else that drops back into the loneliness of regret and longing.

The lyrics only add to this impression. So does the music video that depicts a damn near epic short story of love and loss. Prequel series about Lan Yi and Baoshan Sanren’s star-crossed love when?

B-Side: Poison – PinkFantasy. But maybe you want a pop-rock-metal song that does go hard throughout. In which case here you go! Selected this one for the lyrics about danger and confusion. It’s for that time period before Lan Yi went into seclusion out of remorse.

Cangse Sanren; Gotta Go - Chungha

Yeah I like it, how you talk informally to me Like it, your quiet way of talking It’s not bad Boy you know, know, know, know Like the way you wordlessly held my hand Like the way, even though I was surprised I didn’t hate it You know boy (boy, boy, boy)

The sky that was so blue As if it was painted on already turned dark Emotions running deeper, yeah I gotta tell you this This strange feeling that only we’re feeling I like it so much but it’s too late

I’ll be honest, I first considered this one in a jokey “haha, wouldn’t it be funny if I made this Cangse Sanren’s main song because there’s a flute melody constantly looping throughout and her son famously has a flute as a spiritual weapon?” But then this hypothetical selection became less of a joke the more I considered it.

The lyrics themselves paint the picture of a relationship that never quite got off the ground in a “ships that pass in the night” sort of way. Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze did end up together, however depictions of them are always steeped in wistfulness due their premature deaths.

All that being said, this is a powerful song that leaves an impression despite the melancholy at its heart both in its sound and lyrics. There’s a bit of playfulness, too, and certainly a sense of resilience. The narrator is in charge of this song the same way Cangse Sanren tried to take charge of her life.

B-Side: Stereotype – StayC. Cangse Sanren is one of those posthumous characters that casts a shadow over canon. Some people adored her, some people hated her. When canon kicks off, a lot of people have her caricaturized in their minds. But before all that she was a person too. And to quote this song: 자꾸만 널 유혹하듯/보이겠지만 미안하지만/색안경을 끼고 보지 마요 (It may seem like I’m tempting you/And I’m sorry but/Don’t create a stereotype about me)

Meng Shi; Midnight Driver - Fromm

Don’t worry, mama, I’m a night driver Try to see things from my point of view You trust the moment, right? With headlights on, headlights on We’ll have everything in view Headlights on, headlights on Even if the end is darkness

I’ll admit that I picked this one for the vibes rather than the lyrics exactly, although the lyrics are poignant too. Spotify radio for Sunmi introduced me to this song and I’m so happy it did.

My initial instinct was to choose a song that would exemplify her waiting on Jin Guangshan (and you can see the B-side for that one!) However, I sat with it for a bit and I realized the paradoxical sadness and optimism of this song reminds me of Meng Shi a lot. Just … this woman tried so hard. She tried so hard for her son. She got him books to learn from, she tried to get his powerful father to acknowledge him. She was outstanding at her art in order to get more money for their lives together. And she’s one of the few parents we know of in this canon that genuinely treated their child with love. Despite the stresses of her life she envisioned a better life for him and did her very best to get it.

So that’s what I want to highlight here. A peaceful, dreamy song that feels like it could be playing as she spend money from an especially profitable week to buy snacks for her son as he studies. Life is difficult but she’s doing her best and things don’t feel so bad today.

B-Side: After We Ride – Brave Girls. Of course, she did still have to expend a considerable amount of effort trying to get her piece of shit former patron to write back, and this song is perfect for that. This is absolutely one of my favorite songs of the year and it’s a work of art and it makes me so sad.

 Yu Ziyuan; Twit - Hwasa

I’m a fool I’m the bitch for making you sick The whispers of the devil My greed pushes you away Even if I’m late, don’t wait for me

I could have picked one of the more stereotypical girlboss songs for Yu Ziyuan and I came really close. Then shuffle reminded me of this - one of my favorite songs of 2019 – and then I couldn’t pick anything else despite it not having the hallmarks of an in-your-face girlboss song.

This explanation video really gets into how much is going on in this song. In Twit the narrator eviscerates her partner for his emotional masochism and how he always makes her the bad guy. Unlike Yu Ziyuan, the narrator has a partner who is wholly obsessed with her. However, like Jiang Fengmian, the partner described in this song sounds uniquely weak-willed. He constantly gets compared to Sim Cheong, a Korean folk tale character who is unique in his selflessness. Sometimes he’s lauded for this, sometimes he’s seen as a cautionary tale. This song lands hard on the latter given the repetition of “I don’t like it/Nobody likes it.”

In Twit, the narrator knows she’s mean, often even cruel. However, her partner acts like a martyr, which just exacerbates her bitterness and self-loathing even more. The lyrics immediately after the quoted section on the image had too much English to fit the spirit of what I’m doing here… but they’re so important I’ll quote them down here:

I make you patient I make you puppy I make you hungry 주는 게 없지 근데 왜 나도 불행해질까 (I don’t give anything but why am I unhappy too?) 나를 위해서만 숨을 쉬지 마 (Don’t just breathe for me) 너무 외로워 보여 (You look so lonely)

In other words, he’s getting off on getting to play the hero to her villain.

It’s just a perfect song for the mutually miserable Jiang parent marriage. I also love the little sparks of flute notes that repeat throughout. That was unintentional but given that I picked a flute heavy song for the Cangse Sanren selection it fits here, too. Her ghost is hovering here, too.

B-Side: I Like That – Sistar. Some of the b-sides were selected to get into different aspects of the same character. This… is not that. This is more of the same in terms of theme. However it’s so fun I couldn’t not pick it. Also it made me giggle to follow up the song that asserts “I don’t like it” with a song called I Like That. Tacit admission that the Jiang parents decided they did kind of like each other seconds before death.

 Wang Lingjiao; Dumb Dumb - Somi

Practicing in front of the mirror again Opening my eyes wide You like it when I make this face How can I look more vulnerable and innocent? Don’t want to look like I tried too hard

It’s been so fun watching Somi develop her musical identity over the years. She’s been leaning more and more into this snarky, meta vibe and I’ve been super into it.

And this song is hilariously acidic. The narrator explicitly outlines her plans to play dumb (dumb, dumb) in order to attract her crush. The music video really leans into this by having her sing that she doesn’t have much of an appetite, while she and her friends eat pizza and donuts. She sings about how she couldn’t kill a fly while we see her absolutely decimating a science experiment in school and getting blood all over her face. In the end she sings about how her plan totally worked. She got the guy and it wasn’t even difficult.

I feel like despite Wen Chao’s… everything, he probably had women throwing themselves at him so that they could end up as the mistress of someone so wealthy. And I like to imagine Wang Lingjiao enacted a similar plan as the one in this song to attract him. We definitely see her playing up a role at him until things really go off the rails. There were probably many moments when she was mentally like “난 네 머리 꼭대기에서 춤춰 you dumb dumb.” Aka “I’m dancing on top of your head you dumb dumb.”

B-Side: Hands Up – Cherry Bullet. This is a fairly standard “you have a thing for me, wanna do something about it?” song. What’s not standard is that it fucking samples Für Elise throughout, which makes it one of most pleasantly puzzling songs I’ve ever listened to. It also sounds exactly like the kind of song that would play during a fight with a mini-boss. It’s fantastic. One of the best songs of 2020.

Wen Qing; Hwaa – (G)I-DLE

I shall never let your trace leave a mark Shall burn the resentment left undone And shall take away the lonesome cold Step over the withered flower path Once I untangle han, I shall feel the spring once again All memories turn into ashes Then shall bloom a beautiful bright flower

I shall make a fire, a bigger fire To win back the spring that I’ve lost

On one hand this song sounds sprawling and epic. It sounds like it should play while a bronze age civilization collapses. On the other hand, it feels shockingly intimate. The soundscapes absolutely evoke a desolate, cold location. The lyrics also use the word ‘han’ which is one of those words that’s difficult to convey in another language in a 1:1 way.

The narrator is clearly going through it. She sounds like she’s lost everything. She also sounds like she’s lost a specific person. Despite all that, she sounds flinty and determined. No matter what happens, she won’t let life just bury her. She’s determined to see winter give way to spring. She sings about ashes nurturing the growth of flowers, and trying to make spring happen through sheer force of will.

This fits Wen Qing so well because even though she dies young and leaves the narrative halfway through she leaves such a mark. What’s interesting is she doesn’t just exist as a complication to other people’s relationships. She also did things that people continue to benefit from as well. She did the golden core transfer (which obviously has a complicated legacy but it did mean the Jiang clan could have its revival), she kept Lan Sizhui alive well before Lan Wangji found him. And of course Wen Ning continues to hold her dear (and he still exists because of her, too.)

The outro of the song also fits Wen Qing too. It’s one of my very favorites but it’s also like ten milliseconds long. I wish it had lasted longer, and I wish Wen Qing had lived, damn it.

B-Side: Remember Me – Oh My Girl. More of the same here, except softer and intended (by me) to be about Wen Qing/Jiang Cheng. Because Wen Qing did have a soft side. We rarely see her indulge it but it’s definitely there. And because that not-quite-relationship really is heartbreaking. “조금 이른 사랑얘긴/저 별들처럼 나를 비추고” Aka “The love story that’s a bit too early to be told/ Shine on me like the stars.” I mean, jeez. :,( There are also repeated mentions of fireworks which makes me think of Jiang Cheng making heart eyes at her during the lantern ceremony.

Jiang Yanli; Likey - Twice

But it’s so typical to say I like you It’s not enough to express my heart But I like you, I can’t even sleep I don’t care if I run late

I’m just looking at you But I couldn’t say anything Come a little closer, please know my heart I don’t wanna hide it anymore

 YES, I am in fact using the “fishing for attention on social media cutesy Twice song” for Jiang Yanli. Why? Okay. Hear me out here. This is one of the cleverest, saddest k-pop songs I’ve ever encountered. If you just hear it then it’s a giddy sugar rush of pop music perfection. There’s a reason I often start out with this song when I’m doing cardio. There’s so much more going on here than its joyous sound, though. The full lyrics go into detail about how hard the narrator tries to look perfect on social media to impress her crush (and, probably, everyone else too.) The music video shows the girls dancing in surprisingly mundane looking locations … until a filter goes on and suddenly the garbage bin is gone and the plain walls pop with pinks and yellows. It all slips into a bridge that’s unquestionably wistful and sad, before it slides right back into the relentlessly cheerful vibes. This song is making a statement about how exhausting it is to perform to society’s standards.

Jiang Yanli wasn’t exactly looking for social media validation, but every time I revisit episodes with her I’m always struck by how much effort she has to be putting in to match what the people around her need from her. She’s not stoic like Wen Qing but she keeps her own needs close to the chest. She wants love – both familial and romantic – and like the narrator of Likey she’s almost always putting herself last.

Sidenote: This song also has some of my favorite choreography. I love how the beginning of the song stimulates pictures on instagram getting likes. (Posting the part switch version because this performance is so charming.)

B-Side: Mago - Gfriend. However, in despite of all the above … There was a chance there, near the end, where like was turning around for Jiang Yanli. Yes, she had married into the horror show that was the Jin clan at the time, but she had a supportive husband and a kid she adored. She wasn’t living under the threat of war anymore. Things were starting to thaw with Wei Wuxian a little a bit. We all know how that ended but … I want to end on this song that has the narrator singing about how much she’s feeling herself. I like the idea of using one of Gfriend’s mature songs here because they also had many, many lovely wistful and cute songs as well but they went out on this absolute banger anthem of self-love. This song also has a very expensive, decadent feeling to it which fits the vibe of the clan Yanli married into.

Madame Jin; L.I.E. - EXID

I pray that you keep this up until you die And go to hell, go to hell (Go away) Oh baby you You should have never been born What do I do, what do I do? I’m losing my mind because I can’t stand seeing you

Baby I know I know I know your lies I don’t like to see you breathing either

Another one of the absolutely miserable marriages in canon. Unlike those marriages though, there are no glimmers of love or even appreciation to be found here. Instead, things are straightforward. Madame Jin hates Jin Guangshan and is stuck with him.

The song is straightforward with its hatred too. So straightforward that there was some discourse back in the day about whether it was misandrist. All I know is that it has an air horn going off every few seconds and it shouldn’t work but it somehow elevates this vicious bop into even more of a bop for me. I know that EXID also often got some flack for having the same strong structures every time, but they really had a winning formula going and there’s a reason they’re one of my favorites. I loved how their songs would start out with Hani’s honeyed tones and Junghwa’s airy vocals. Then they would just slam into Hyerin and Solji’s powerful choruses. And then we’d get LE just absolutely going FINISH HIM with her raps. This structure is fun in their trademark sexy songs, but somehow it’s particular winning in a resentful breakup song.

B-Side: Hate – 4Minute. But if L.I.E. isn’t angry enough, this oughtta do it. Unlike every other song on here I don’t have unreserved love for this song. Every time I listen to it, the first verse has me going “wow this song is great I need to listen to it more.” Then it builds and builds before cannonballing into one of the most unhinged choruses I’ve ever heard. This song is so stressful it’s impressive. And well … I sympathize with Madame Jin, but she definitely takes her anger out on the people around her. So yeah.

 A-Qing; Wannabe - ITZY

The nagging, stop it I got this Whatever I be it’s up to me so please I do what I wanna Can you just leave me alone whether I live a normal life or not? It’s me who lives this ‘cause it’s my life

I could almost throw a dart at a dartboard with ITZY’s other songs and hit a song with the vibe I wanted. Particularly Dalla Dalla (although going “bad, bad, sorry I’m bad, I’m just the way I am” while twerking is more fitting for Xue Yang.)

The narrator of this song is just so confident and unapologetic about it all. And so is A-Qing. She finds a way to survive and has no qualms about it. She doesn’t hide her distrust for Xue Yang either. Even when he literally silences her, she finds a way to make herself heard. Her sheer stubbornness when it comes to being heard means that Wei Wuxian et al get the keys they need to unlock a lot the mysteries underpinning the series. A-Qing absolutely maximizes her impact, even in death.

B-Side: Cool – Weki Meki. This song has a similar vibe. I picked this over others in this type of genre because I love how there’s something particularly sharp about how girls of Weki Meki pronounce the words of the song. They seem to go bouncing over the heavy beat like they’re actively resisting the force of gravity. It Is Neat.

 Qin Su; Heroine - Sunmi

In a movie only for us The real hero was you, baby As always the way you act Like a splendid hero 

Do whatever you want Even if you’re mean And you make me sad You need to be yourself Even if I’m not feeling well And it’s sad ending

Okay, this is the song that made me wake up from a nap in a cold sweat realizing I had to make this fanmix.

This is absolutely one of those songs where you have to pay attention to lyrics, sound, and choreography to feel the full impact of what’s being conveyed here. Written out like this, the translated lyrics could potentially flatten out the meaning. It almost sounds like the narrator is preternaturally forgiving and understanding of her self-absorbed partner. I really don’t think that’s what Sunmi was trying to convey here. Quite frankly the emotions of this song hit me like a freight train every single time I listen to it and those definitely aren’t happy emotions that I’m feeling. The first verse has her sounding half asleep and confused. Maybe even feeling a little bit tortured. The choreography here has Sunmi sitting in a chair and twitching almost like she’s being shocked. The music video brings in a male backup dancer to duet with her at this point but they don’t really connect with each other. They seem like they’re in separate orbits entirely. The next time she duets with a male backup dancer she’s miming pushing him over and he still doesn’t react. And of course there’s those choruses that are just a gut punch after the almost dreamlike beginning.

This and many other little details have led me to this very scientific analysis of this song: When she’s saying you’re the real hero and you have to do what you want …. It’s sardonic and bitter. This is the song of someone realizing she’s been in a relationship with someone who sees the people around him as NPCs and pawns in his own life story. He sees himself as a tragic hero, and she gets to be the heroine. But she doesn’t really have a life of her own.

And, well, Jin Guangyao did seem to love Qin Su but it was so often for the things she did for him. The way she really was a rare beacon of kindness in her world. But despite his love for her he didn’t give her the information she needed to have agency over her own life. Because “the show must go on, [he] must go on.”

B-Side: Body Talk – Red Velvet. A haunting song about the end of a relationship. The narrator knows from body language that her partner is just not into her anymore, but he’s not saying it. She’s forced to guess what’s going on in his head.

 Sisi; Ring x Ring - Billlie

A lot of lonely, faint names The sound of my heart ringing with all my might

This song is so off-putting it loops back around to become compelling. It turns out the Für Elise sample in Hand’s Up isn’t the most surprising choice on here. How about taking the Ring Ring the Bells Christmas song and making it as sinister as possible?

This was also an especially audacious debut song. There’s nothing about a crush or self-love here. No, the girls of Billlie are basically narrating a mystery novel here. The lyrics are all about discovering your friend has gone missing and there’s blood everywhere.

That’s pretty much the situation Sisi found herself in. But instead of one possibly dead acquaintance it’s everyone she headed out with on that awful night. There are a couple lyrics here I could have chosen for the horror of it all, but I decided on this short bit with the narrator fixating on “lonely, faint names.” Sisi is the only one left who can talk about what happened.

B-Side: Jam Jam – IU. Now let’s cool down with this extremely compelling IU song. It has its sinister sounding moments too, but it’s mostly a chill song about taking comfort in artifice. I’m sure Sisi had to do a fair amount of that to get by in life.

 Baoshan Sanren; How You Like That - Blackpink

I crumbled before your eyes Hit rock bottom and sunk deeper To grab onto the last bit of hope I’ve tried to reach out with both of my hands

Again in this dark place, light up the sky While looking into your eyes, I’ll kiss you goodbye Laugh all you want while you still can Because it’s about to be your turn 1, 2, 3

LMAO. Okay I didn’t expect to have a Blackpink song for her. But … this fits the Lan Yi breakup shockingly well, doesn’t it? Especially this section. I feel like How You Like That is best known for the chorus and how it gets under your skin in a love it or hate it kind of way. The song itself starts out with those regal chords before shifting into the surprisingly ethereal Jennie and Jisoo section. In that part the narrator feels particularly distant and untouchable.

Which is a pretty great vibe for a cultivation master who will call you out for your harmful cultivation techniques and will not answer your emails.

B-Side: Me – CLC. I chose this one because of the similar feel and also because I love the chorus, particularly in this context. Especially these lines: “화려함에 담긴 청순함이/도도함에 담긴 순수함이” AKA; “The innocence in glamour/ The purity in arrogance.” We never meet Baoshan Sanren outside of flashbacks, but we do know she’s particularly uncompromising.

 Mianmian; new - Yves

Blooming like sweet seduction Another shape of me found inside of me My face in the mirror I ask myself who it is

In the cold breeze of early morning Pulsating heart That moment I looked myself squarely I realized my new face

Out of the living women at the end of canon I’m choosing to end this fanmix with Mianmian because her journey is particularly satisfying. The way she chooses her self-worth over the clan she devoted a shit-ton of time to is just /chef’s kiss.

So it’s fitting I give her one of my favorite self-love k-pop song! There’s just something so entrancing about new. The narrator sings about how after a period of struggle. she’s going to be the love of her own life. It’s not because she’s beautiful or cool (although songs with that theme are great too!) Instead, she sings about how she’s bound to be the only constant in her life. Because that’s just how life works. Therefore, she’s going to love and cherish herself.

Mianmian made a similar calculation, too, and we saw that it worked out well for her!

B-Side: Holo – Lee Hi. Of course, getting to such a self-assured point in your life can be very lonely and it doesn’t always proceed in a straight line. I’m sure there were moments where Mianmian questioned what she had done or even mourned when she learned Jin Zixuan had died. This song takes a moment to pause and reflect on how difficult it can be, but also how those difficult moments will pass. And with these lines the song concludes that it’s still worth it in the end. “가만히 앉아 걱정하기엔/난 너무 소중해요/들여다봐요 맘속의 민낯/그대로 괜찮아요” Aka; “I’m too precious/ To just sit around and worry/ Take a look inside of your heart without a cover/ It’s okay to be yourself.”f

[musings-from-mars]

Welp, part 5 is a must now

Freelance Love Triangle AU - Part 5

Blake wasn’t sure why she’d been so curious about hard seltzer when she already knew she hated sparkling water. But here she was drinking what vaguely suggested that it might be cherry flavored, yet Ruby seemed to like hers, and Blake had already said she liked it. Gotta finish it now…

Cinder was right about it being quaint. Blake usually shied away from late night trips to the bar because the ones she’d been to were the “loud music, pick up chicks” types. This, however, was more easy going, softer music and people here to chat with friends more than anything else. And since it was a weekday evening, it wasn’t very busy (also a rare treat for a city like Vale).

The three of them sat at the bar, the bow tie and vest wearing barman leisurely drying a glass with a fiber cloth as he handed Cinder her cheap glass of red wine. Blake wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, maybe that Cinder would order something from higher in the big wooden cabinet behind the bar, perhaps to show off her sophisticated tastes. But no, it was just a glass from an already opened bottle of something dark and astringent. At least she was being seemingly authentic.

Blake needed the occasional reminders that Cinder wasn’t the highbrow, high class villainess she made her out to be in her head. She was Blake’s coworker and made no more than she did. Maybe Blake just had a complex, imagining her as an opponent. And Ruby was the prize she felt like they were warring over.

I’m a fucking piece of shit. And dumb. She took another sip of alcohol soda water, accepting it as her punishment.

“Want a taste?” Cinder asked Ruby, sliding her glass to her.

The photographer eyed the dark red liquid skeptically, but she grabbed the stem of the glass anyway. “I’ll try.” She took the smallest of sips, then came away with an expression like she had just bitten into a lemon. “Heghhh…”

Cinder giggled, seeming to be genuinely amused. “It’s an acquired taste.”

Blake reached over, but looked to Cinder for permission to try. Cinder noticed, and for half a second seemed surprised, but then she smiled and nodded. Blake took a sip, and yep, it felt like all the moisture had been zapped from her mouth the moment the wine passed her tongue. She slid the glass back to Cinder. “I don’t think I’ll acquire it.”

Cinder rolled her eye, but continued to smile. Blake took a drink of her seltzer. At least now she knew it could be worse.

“So, uhm…” Ruby began, pausing to sip her drink. “When did you two, like…how’d you become writers.”

Blake looked across to Cinder, and Cinder went first. “It wasn’t my plan initially, but I eventually figured out that I wanted to write for a living. But I didn’t figure that out until I was a third year physics student at my university. Had an identity crisis, had a financial crisis, had a crisis crisis, I’m a journalist now.” She punctuated that with a sip of wine, and both Ruby and Blake laughed. “Blake had a slightly less stressful go at it, if I remember correctly.”

Blake blushed at that, but nodded in agreement. “College was the easy part. It was the after college part that was hard. Urban Valean is, like, the fifth publication I’ve written for in the past two years and it’s the first one I’ve actually enjoyed.”

“I can agree with that,” Cinder added.

“Huh.” Ruby bowed her head a bit. “So I kinda got lucky, huh?”

“Got lucky because of the magazine you’re working for? Or lucky because you’re working with us?” Cinder asked. Blake felt her face warm, both because of Cinder’s obvious flirting, but also because of her use of the word “us.”

Ruby chuckled bashfully and shrugged. Cute. “Both, I guess. You two are really cool, and…nowhere near as mean as I was worried you would be.”

“You thought we’d be mean?” Blake asked, concerned.

Ruby’s back straightened and she shook her head. “I mean, uhh…not you two specifically! I just mean, like, I always imagined I’d get teased, or like, not taken seriously at my first gig. But I liked you both pretty much right away. I’m really enjoying working on this project.” She smiled genuinely, and it made Blake’s heart soar.

“Yeah, you are pretty lucky to be working with us,” Cinder assured her with a chuckle. “And that’s not me being an ass, I mean that. There are a lot of high-strung jerks out there.”

“Yeah,” Blake agreed, then felt her breath catch in her throat. Was she talking about her?

“Blake and I are the types who…you know, we enjoy what we do, but we don’t take ourselves too seriously. At least, most of the time.” And then she winked at Blake. It was a little hard to tell at first because, well, one eye, but that was definitely a wink. She tipped her head in her direction and everything.

At least Blake wasn’t one of those high-strung jerks, then.

“Thank you both, seriously,” Ruby told them, then took the last sip of her drink. “I was so scared when I graduated, because I didn’t know what to do, but…now I feel like I’m on a good track, of some sort. I…” She paused and flinched a bit, then she pulled out her phone, and she went a bit paler. “Oh, shit! I totally forgot!”

“What?” Blake asked.

“Did you leave your other laptop in the oven?” Cinder joked.

“No no, it’s my sister. She invited me over tonight and I completely forgot. I…” She suddenly got to her feet and started fumbling around in her pockets. She finally pulled out her wallet and left a few Lien on the bar. “I am so sorry that I’m leaving so quick, I really would love to stay, but…”

“Don’t worry about it, Ruby. This won’t be our last time hanging out,” Cinder assured her. “We’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

Ruby sighed and nodded. “Thanks.” She turned towards Blake and grinned as she began to leave. “Bye! Thanks again!”

Blake and Cinder both watched her leave, and then a relative silence fell over them, with an awkward empty seat now separating the two.

Blake heard Cinder take in a deep breath, then hopped into the seat Ruby had just vacated. “Blake, can I ask you something?”

Blake’s heart was suddenly hammering in her chest, both due to the open-ended question, and the sudden reduction in distance between them. “Uhh…you just did.”

Cinder huffed the faintest laugh. “Blake, I feel like we should probably talk about this like a couple of adults.”

“Talk about what?” Blake asked, apparently deciding to play dumb.

“About Ruby,” Cinder deadpanned. “About how obviously we both seem to like her. Unless I’m misreading things horribly.”

Blake sighed and shook her head. “No, you’re just about spot on,” she admitted.

“I figured. I can’t help but feel like you view this as us both competing for her affections, but as much as I’d normally appreciate drama like that, when I’m involved, I’d prefer we handle it like real people rather than like rom-com characters.”

Cinder’s eloquence got on Blake’s nerves as usual, only now she was beginning to examine why. Cinder was so irritatingly attractive, and yet she was exactly right about the whole competing thing. Why did Blake have to view her as an opponent all the time, when they had just told Ruby how they were both just a couple of stressed out freelance writers? She took another sip of hard seltzer, realized her glass was empty, and despite her disdain for the taste, signaled the bartender for a refill.

“I am most concerned about Ruby herself,” Cinder continued. “Whether she’s even interested in either of us in that way, or if she is interested in such a relationship at all. So I believe that’s our most important concern right now. Let’s be upfront with her as well, right?”

“You want us to tell her that we both fancy her,” Blake asked, as a statement rather than as a question. The bartender slid another pint glass of fresh-from-the-can hard seltzer. “I can’t imagine that going well.” Nor could she imagine her blood pressure handling such a situation well.

“But at least then we’d know early on whether our feelings are misplaced or not,” Cinder pointed out, and finished off her glass. She signaled for another, probably mirroring Blake’s failure to adhere to her “only one drink” declaration from earlier. “It would save us the anxiety.”

“For you, maybe,” Blake said with a dry laugh. “I can’t imagine telling her something like that, especially since we’re supposed to be keeping things professional. Imagine if she freaks out and tells Robyn? She’d be in the right if she did.”

“I doubt she would, I have a good feeling, if I’m being honest,” Cinder admitted as the bartender finished refilling her glass.

“I don’t!” Blake said, an incredulous smile on her face.

“It’s up to you, Blake,” Cinder assured her and took a sip of her wine. Blake noticed a faint red tint to her cheeks. “I won’t make a move without your…input?”

“What, like, some sort of bro code?” Blake asked, raising an eyebrow at her. She took a few hasty sips from her drink, as if that would calm her down at all. “We’re not frat boys.”

“As I said, I want us to handle this like adults,” Cinder reiterated, eying Blake’s glass with faint concern. “And I think going behind your back, undercutting you…” She let that linger.

Blake sighed, her shoulders slumping a bit. “Would be shitty, yeah, I got that.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Blake.”

Blake held her breath and looked at her, studying her face as she drank more wine. That came out of nowhere. “What do you mean?”

“You compare yourself to others, or most notably, to me all too often,” Cinder told her, setting her glass back down. “You are a woman of merit, and you shouldn’t hamper yourself with the expectations that other people already deal with. You are just one person. You need to do what you can, and less of what you feel like I can. You’ll stress yourself out far less once you do.”

Blake tried to take in all of that, but at this point, her head was a little too foggy to accept new information for archiving. This hard seltzer wash was more potent than she expected. Or maybe she was more of a lightweight than she thought. “Easy for you to say. You get cover so often…”

“I’ve also been doing this longer than you have,” Cinder pointed out. “You’re putting the expectations I deal with on top of your own by comparing yourself to me. I used to do that all the time, hence the crisis crisis I mentioned earlier? Once I stopped giving two fucks about everyone else, life got easier.”

Blake shook her head. She knew Cinder had a point, but she just couldn’t fathom the full breadth of her testimony. “Well, I guess I’ll start working on giving fewer fucks moving forward.” She finished her second glass all too soon. She shook her head when the bartender asked if she wanted another as he took her glass.

Cinder laughed, which weirdly made Blake feel a little better. “Everyone starts somewhere.”

“Yeah.” It certainly sounded nice, no longer caring what other people thought, or even ignoring her own head and just doing what felt right. But how did that relate to the Ruby situation? The thing that would feel right would be to go find wherever she was right now and proclaim her affections, but even that felt like too much right now. The alcohol wasn’t helping.

Cinder seemed to recognize that and took a few more sips of wine before sliding the almost-empty glass away and pushed herself off of the barstool. “Just put it on my tab, thanks.”

“Are we leaving?” Blake asked, not noticing Cinder had gotten up until she’d gently taken her by the wrist.

“You are, anyway. You need to get home.” Cinder told her as she helped her off her stool. “Lightweight.”

Blake would have argued if standing didn’t make her even woozier. She was in that odd in-betweenness of buzzed and drunk. She felt completely aware of her surroundings but felt like she was controlling all of her body’s movements manually, as if letting something go unnoticed would result in her falling over. Thankfully, Cinder kept ahold of her, though the feeling of her faintly cold hand on Blake’s wrist proved to be a distraction all on its own.

They started down the street. Blake walked as normally as she could, save for the occasional sway that Cinder would correct for her. She felt so stupid for having more than one drink despite what she said before. At least Cinder was being nice. “Wait…”

“Hm?” Cinder asked.

“My laptop,” Blake said. “I left my laptop at the office.”

“It’ll be there where you get there in the morning.”

“No, I need it tonight. I gotta take down my notes and do some preliminary searching for contact information for the artists.”

“It can wait, hun,” Cinder assured her.

“It’s on the way,” Blake half-lied. It wasn’t tremendously out of the way, but going straight home would be quicker and easier, not that Cinder knew that.

Cinder sighed and shook her head. “Fine, dumbass, let’s go to the office.”

Blake might have taken offense, but felt too victorious at successfully convincing her.

Cinder buzzed them both in with her ID card, and sure enough, Blake’s laptop bag was still on her chair. They were the only ones at the office at this late an hour. It felt eerily quiet, considering how noisy it could be during the day. In Blake’s slightly intoxicated state, it was especially surreal.

“Do you…do you need to sit down for a moment?” Cinder asked, her voice lulling.

Blake hadn’t put her bag over her shoulder yet, instead holding the shoulder strap as it rested on the floor. She considered Cinder’s suggestion, then shook her head. “No, I’m fine. Just tired.” Then she swayed a little too far in one direction, overcorrected in the other, and began to stumble. “Huh-!”

Cinder stepped forward quickly and caught her, wrapping her arms securely around Blake’s shoulders in an awkward embrace. “Careful!”

Blake groaned in annoyance, then held her breath when she fully recognized her position, held tightly in Cinder’s arms, face-to-face with her. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I just lost my balance for a bit, I’m fine.”

Cinder shook her head at her. She licked her lips before speaking, as if it was difficult to find the words. “No, you need to sit down.”

“Why?” Blake asked, finding herself unable to look away from Cinder’s lips.

“You’re not fit to walk home yet,” Cinder told her, her voice quieter than before, almost a whisper. She began to slowly lead Blake to her desk chair without letting go of her. “Just sit until you feel better.”

“But…no,” Blake said, almost a mumble.

“Why not?”

“I don’t want you to let go of me yet.”

Blake didn’t realize what she said until noticing the look on Cinder’s face, her eye wide and her mouth hanging open slightly. Blake’s face got so hot she thought she might break out into a sweat.

“You want me to keep holding you?” Cinder asked quietly.

Blake couldn’t meet her face, instead staring at the collar of Cinder’s jacket. At first she wanted to double back and correct herself, but then again…

She let her head drift forward until her forehead rested on Cinder’s shoulder, and she did her best to wrap her arms around her despite Cinder pinning them to her sides. Cinder felt tense, but Blake let herself relax within her embrace, letting out a slow sigh.

“Blake?” Cinder whispered to her, but didn’t continue.

“Just hold me,” Blake said back, voice muffled by Cinder’s jacket.

“Do you like it when I hold you?” Cinder asked.

“Yeah.”

Cinder let out a shaky breath, then chuckled softly. She shook her head as she allowed Blake to sink further into the embrace. “Yeah. I like it too.”

[fly-pow-bye]

DuckTales 2017 - The Absolute Best!

After doing the least best this series has done, it's time for a much, much harder list to put together: the absolute best episodes of DuckTales 2017. I am not going to lie: this was hard to put together. Anyone could guess that based on how I once planned to have this list alongside the worst list and that did not happen. I can also see myself forgetting about other really good episodes of this show. However, after days of pondering, I believe I have a good list here.

Same rules as the last list.

It has to be an episode of DuckTales 2017. No shorts, even if the shorts combined can make up a full episode.

With this list, I have to say something bad about each of these episodes. Not necessarily the worst part of the episode, but a bad part nonetheless. These are going to be more nitpicky, but it is only fair to prove the constant that there is no such thing as a perfect piece of media and it is a decent challenge for me.

This is my opinion and my opinion alone. There are episodes I didn't like as much that a lot of people did. The last list should be a huge hint at that.

Alright, let's begin.

10. Jaw$!

I mentioned this episode in my Least Best as the better example of the show establishing the relationship between Lena and Magica De Spell. It establishes Magica De Spell better than either of the episodes that featured her before this one. One was a tease put in the very last minute of the episode to show how Lena is going to be far more important than the "cool new goth girl", and the other was the Terra-Firmians episode that used her as a way to improve what would otherwise be a not-so-good filler episode. This one is a far better example, and it's not just because a money-shark is a lot more interesting and threatening than a bunch of cutesy rock creatures.

It also has a B-plot about Scrooge's Board of Directors scheduling an interview to improve his PR, and hilarity ensues when Scrooge has to defend his zillionaire antics when a shark made of his own fortune is causing havoc throughout the town. Glomgold also makes an appearance during this, which only makes it better. Along with some neat Jaws references along the way, this is not an episode to miss.

Bad thing: They really did not want to mention the obvious plot hole of the kids being able to go into the money bin. This was long before F.O.W.L. began their plans against Scrooge or even the 87 cent problem, but still, one would think this would be one of the most highly secure places at Killmotor Hill considering all of his enemies. Considering I didn't particularly love the Impossibin episode, as much as I love the idea of it, it might be for the best.

9. The First Adventure!

Going from an arc from season 1 to an arc from season 3, though some may argue the F.O.W.L. arc has been happening since season 1. Anyway, this is an episode that brings back the younger Donald and younger Della that was first seen in "Last Christmas!" in their first adventure with their Uncle Scrooge. It's very interesting to see the similarities between their first adventure with Scrooge and the first adventure with Huey, Dewey, and Louie.

Even though this does give good development to the arc, arguably even bigger characters in this episode are Bradford Buzzard and Black Heron, as this episode details the origins of the Fiendish Organization of World Larceny. Their antics throughout this episode are very entertaining, with the plot toying with the dynamic of the more chaotic evil Heron and the more lawful evil Buzzard. With all it all ties together, I had to put the First Adventure on this list.

Bad thing: The sense of time in this episode is odd. We get a title card showing that it's the 60's in the opening scene, and yet there is very little suggestion of any passing of time between the opening scene and the scenes that I assumed took place in the 80's.

8. Quack Pack!

It would be too easy to just put in episodes that are important to any of the various story arcs that went throughout this series, so here's an episode that could be taken out of the series without harming anything. However, it is still a very memorable episode of the show, where the cast of characters have to be in this weird sitcom. There's also a mystery element, as there is a culprit to why these characters are in this sitcom world.

I really like the whole meta element, with the characters picking apart all not only the clichés in sitcoms, but sitcom production as well. I also really appreciated the "special guest", another sitcom staple, being a character from a different Disney Afternoon show with some great references to it. Quack Pack turns out to be the antithesis of the show it was named after; it's not dated, it's really funny, and it realistically portrays how freaked out these characters would be if they saw those weird hairless apes.

Bad thing: I wish they did more with the concept of this world being made up by someone who was locked away from the world since 1990. Maybe not references to the era of Disney that gave us "Gotta Be Gettin' Goofy", but more jokes about how the 90's were different from now. They kind of ignore this, as if they only mentioned 1990 because of the DuckTales movie they were referencing.

7. Last Christmas!

Wait, a Christmas episode in a Top 10? I have my reasons for including this one. It's not just because the idea is pretty great, as it uses the very tale that inspired Scrooge's entire character in the first place. Obviously, we already had one of the best cartoon renditions of A Christmas Carol, and this episode does not try to recreate that. Instead, we get a different tale, mostly featuring Scrooge and Jiminy Cricket, er, the ghost of Christmas Past, going back to the past to experience a good Christmas party. If only we can do the same, like Dewey accidentally does in the episode.

This was also the first time we also got to see a young version of Donald, who, in this episode, is voiced by none other than the late, great Russi Taylor. It was almost like having one of the siblings from the old show interact with one of the new ones. This is also the first time we got to see and hear her outside of a painting, and it's heartbreaking and yet understandable when we get to the scene where Dewey has to say goodbye. It's a good scene, and they weren't afraid to even throw in a joke that does not ruin the moment.

Bad thing: No, episode, this is the Scrooge they were looking for. Were they trying to make it seem like Scrooge was always a hero and not a miser who would deserve getting three ghosts to visit him with that line? I don’t buy it.

6. The Ballad of Duke Baloney!

Got to pay some respect to Scrooge's arch-rival with an episode that really shows off his character, which is a bit ironic as this is an episode about him getting amnesia and getting a brand new, at least to us, persona named Duke Baloney. Amnesia episodes tend to be a dime-a-dozen, and anyone could predict this new persona is not going to last, but the way this episode develops is actually much more interesting. This is the episode for Glomgold character development, with dream sequences, flashbacks, and a great scene in the ending that takes place in a storm that he may or may not have made up in his head. I may not have given a lot of his episodes high-rated reviews, but this is easily not only one of his best appearances, but one of the best episodes of DuckTales 2017.

Bad thing: The dream sequence really subtly implies that Duke Baloney is about to become Glomgold again. How? By having him outright say "this gold, it's GLOOMING onto me!" ...okay, I'll admit, that was a stretch for a bad thing, but with a dream sequence with subtleties, that took me out of it.

5. The Last Crash of the Sunchaser!

I called this episode "the best episode of the series so far" when I reviewed it, a pretty late episode in a season with lots of good episodes, I would say that's a good sign that this one was going to be a shoo-in for at least the Top 10. What I love most about this episode is that it gives a little more humanity to the legendary Scrooge McDuck. Sure, this was shown a bit in "Woo-oo!" and "Mount Never-Rest!", but I felt this episodes was one of the best examples of that. Throughout this episode, he sees himself as this legendary figure, as everyone sees him, and he ends up failing to live up to those impossible standards by crashing in a plane in a way where they may not survive.

Much like Quack Pack, there's no traditional villain like Glomgold or Magica. Eventually, this leads to Scrooge finally bringing up his biggest failure: his loss of the Spear of Selene and a certain relative that was piloting it, and it is one of the biggest emotional moments of the series, both in and out of universe. It's one of the most important episodes in the series, and it is also one of the best.

Bad thing: The Last Crash of the Sunchaser is a neat title, but it doesn't really fit the episode. The Sunchaser will certainly crash again. At most, maybe it could be referring to Scrooge crashing down to the lowest point he gets to in the series, but that's not the Sunchaser's fault.

4. Moonvasion!

My big hot take: the season 2 finale, the best of the season finales in my opinion, is not the best episode of the series. However, it is very close. It's actually kind of funny; I had plenty of criticism against the build-up to his finale, especially the Louie Inc. plot that led to an episode that was just kind of lackluster to me, and of all the, some alien commander from the Moon who thinks the Earth revolved around his "planet" wasn't exactly as threatening as an all powerful witch or the scheming businessman who knew Scrooge's every move. Okay, when I put it like that, the alien does sound more threatening, but trust me, even Bradford had his moments.

The biggest thing about this episode is the sheer scale of it. It really did feel like every major player in the series had a part in this, from Scrooge and the nephews, to Dijon and Amunet, to the new Darkwing Duck, to Donald and Della, to even the Greek pantheon! Oh, and Glomgold, too, in what may be his finest moment in the series! It really does feel like a finale for the series, and I say this even if I felt The Last Adventure was a great one as well.

Bad thing: In hindsight, this would have been a good time for the Terries and Fermies to come back. They're in the earth! That episode wasn't bad because of them.

3. Let's Get Dangerous!

I'll tell you a secret: I did not watch Darkwing Duck as a kid. It was just DuckTales '87, and even then, I did not remember a lot of episodes of that. This show was made for people who did not grow up with DuckTales '87, because they were not even alive. Though there are parts of this episode that can be appreciated by those who were familiar with the heroes of the Disney Afternoon, I will still say this episode works very well as its own superhero movie. That is what it is, really!

This special is the true continuation of another episode, though we saw this defictionalized-within-the-fiction Darkwing Duck in the Moonvasion, and it may as well be a pilot for a Darkwing Duck reboot that spins off from this show, with its villains, its origin stories, its sidekicks, and its memorable catchphrases. It all works very well. Who knows where the new Darkwing Duck reboot will go, though I would at least imagine that they would eventually get to certain Darkwing-related plot threads that never got resolved.

Bad thing: Outside of using a few cliche moments to extend the episode that end rather predictably, in the attempt to make Darkwing Duck as cool as he wants to be, the regular cast essentially become jobbers in their own show.

2. What Ever Happened To Della Duck?!

It's the question everyone wanted to know ever since Dewey said the last line in the first episode: what ever happened to Della Duck? This is one of the more artsy episodes of the show, focusing on one duck on what she assumes is a barren moon until she finds a monster that seems to do nothing but impede on her quest to get someone to save her. It does heavily expand from there, to the point where we get to see some more new characters, one who I thought was going to be way more important than the other. I decided to call that guy "General Not Penumbra", and that name could still be fitting as an insult.

This episode would be made or broken by how good Della is, and this is a very good episode for her first voiced debut as an adult. We did get to see her in the IDW comics, but this episode is where her character is developed. Throughout the episode, she has elements of her kids and especially her brother Donald. While there are future episodes that develop her further as a mother who wants to make up for all of those years she missed, one of the biggest defining moments is right in this episode, where she sings a version of the Capcom game's famous moon theme. An amazing episode all around.

Bad thing: Do I have to? Uh, flares do not work on the Moon? No, seriously, I can't think of anything worse than that.

Honorable mentions from each season:

The Shadow War! - An excellent way to end Season 1 that would only be topped by the Moonvasion.

Nightmare on Killmotor Hill! - A dream episode that really works with the concept, especially how Lena is the one involved with it.

Double-O-Duck in You Only Crash Twice! - This is an action packed episode where Launchpad really shines.

And now, #1:

1. The Duck Knight Returns!

Yes, I decided to put the prequel episode to Let's Get Dangerous as higher than the big Darkwing Duck episode, and part of this may be a little bias on my part. While it was not the very original intention of it, Fly Pow Bye started as a project to review a reboot, so of course an episode about Darkwing Duck, a fictional show within the fiction, getting a dark and gritty reboot would be right up my alley. We have Launchpad, a Darkwing Duck superfan, reacting to how they're going to ruin Darkwing Duck. We got the conflict between what the big studio execs wanted Darkwing Duck to be and Dewey's version of it. Finally, we have the conflict between Jim Starling, an obvious reference to original Darkwing Duck voice actor Jim Cummings who is even voiced by him, and his replacement, who appears to be some guy named Drake Mallard.

A lot of these plots converge in very interesting ways, with plenty of twists. Drake Mallard, the guy Launchpad was trying to replace with the original, turns out to be very worthy of the role by also being a superfan! Dewey's version has dancers, just like that Batdance music video! Okay, maybe that last one isn't that great, but it does not overstay its welcome. And, of course, Jim Starling ends up causing a huge cliffhanger that, despite the show being over, we will still be hanging from. We can only wonder what was going to come next, but I do not have to wonder what the best episode of DuckTales 2017 is.

Bad thing: I can't really think of a bad thing for this episode, but I can say that it is odd that there's no real transition from "TV character" to "real hero". It does help that it's not the TV actor that ends up becoming Darkwing, but "fanboy of TV character turning into a real hero" is just as much of a leap, even with an incompetent hero like Darkwing. I would also consider the show never following up on this episode's cliffhanger a bad thing, but that's not this episode's fault.

How does the whole show stack up?

It is an excellent modern take on the Disney Ducks. Opinions may vary on how this will compare with the original, since it is very much a modern take, with a different style of humor than the one from the original or the one in the original comics. Anyone who loves shows like Gravity Falls will be right at home here. Any fan of the original comics or the original cartoon may balk at some of the creative decisions made with the characters, but I would say it pays some good respect to them.

Oh, and before anyone asks, no, I am not going to give a rating for the whole series. I've already imposed a 10 image limit on myself, and since I grade on a relative scale, the average is always, in theory, going to be in the middle. It's a good show, that's what you're going to get from me.

And that's it for DuckTales 2017. Hurrah for Disney and Clan McDuck. Bye.

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[raiseyourcups]

Cabur

Chapter Fifteen

Pairing: Din Djarin x OFC (Aili Verdella) Warnings: 18+, chapter contains smut (which includes references to a breeding kink, throat grabbing but no choking, fingering, slightly rough sex, the armor stays on), mentions of children being killed  Word Count: 5.1k Also on AO3

Masterlist

Summary: Aili and Mando finish the job as quickly as they can, the tracking beacon still counting down. And after the job they have a small...heart to heart of sorts, fueled by just a little alcohol on Aili's part but only enough to lower her inhibitions. 

Note: I am going to reblog this once with the additional backstory I added for Aili so if you want to skip the smut you can but you won’t miss out on important story info.

“Watch my back while we look for Mayfeld and Qin,” Mando said, still unsure what Aili's problem was at the moment. She hadn’t said much after he stopped her from potentially killing Xi’an, not something he would’ve faulted her for, but it was odd to hear her so quiet now. He doubted it had anything to do with him stopping her but he still barely understood anything about how her mind worked. 

“Hey,” he stopped her before they continued down the hallway, avoiding touching her for now. Mayfeld and Qin couldn’t get very far anyway with the doorways leading to the ship shut until he opened them. Aili hesitated before looking up at him, dark brown eyes meeting his own like she always managed to. “You good?”

“I’m fine. I’ll keep any security off us,” Aili said, looking away just as quickly as she had looked up. She focused on her blaster, making sure it was okay after her scuffle with Xi’an. “We should move, not a lot of time left on that beacon.”

“You’ve been keeping track?” Mando was a little surprised she had been able to do so when she had been so focused on keeping Xi’an in a chokehold.

“You haven’t been?” Aili asked, giving Mando a look that was almost like her normal attitude towards him. But he could still tell she was a little more guarded now and he didn’t understand why. But they really didn’t have the time for him to question her. 

They hurried down the hallways as quickly as they could while keeping quiet. The last thing they needed was to give their position away to Mayfeld and his several blasters. Aili stood back as Mando snuck up on Mayfeld, hiding behind a wall when he spun around to look down the hallway. 

“No!” She heard Mayfeld shout right before he hit the ground and she stepped out from behind her spot to raise an eyebrow. There he was just on the ground, hadn’t even fought. Boring. Mando looked over to her before starting to drag Mayfeld down the hallway. 

“You stop Qin, I’ll be there soon,” Mando said, hesitating for a moment like he was going to say something else before he shook his head and kept dragging Mayfeld down the hallway. 

Aili nodded and took off for the hallway that held the ladder that would lead back into the Crest, blaster out in case there were any more security droids or if Qin popped out from around a corner. It didn’t take long for her to spot Qin getting ready to start climbing the ladder to the Crest.

“Qin, was it?” Aili asked, leaning against a wall and looking at Xi’an’s brother with an almost manic smile. It didn’t reach her eyes in the slightest. The Twi’lek let out a sigh before dropping down from the ladder. 

“You two killed the others.” 

Aili didn’t bother to answer, simply tilting her head to the side with that smile still on her face. It wasn’t like he was asking her a question. No, he had stated it like he expected nothing less from Mando or the company he kept. So who was she to even attempt to give him an answer?

“They got what they deserved,” Mando suddenly said from behind her but Aili didn’t even flinch this time. Qin let out a snarl and turned to attack them, Mando pulling out his blaster and pointing it at the Twi’lek while Aili kept hers holstered. 

“I wouldn’t if I were you before I do to you what I did to your sister,” Aili stated, her words implying much worse than she actually did. 

“You kill me, you don’t get your money. Whatever Ran promised, I’ll make you get it, and more.” Qin stepped forwards once, tossing his blaster down to the ground. “Come on Mando, be reasonable. You were hired to do a job, right?” 

“Can I please just knock him out?” Aili muttered mostly to herself but still loud enough for Mando to hear her. Qin looked over at her before back to Mando, holding his hands out. 

“Do the job. Isn’t that your code? Aren’t you a man of honor?” 

“He is. I’m not,” Aili said before stepping forward and punching Qin across the face harder than she had hit Mayfeld back at the hangar. Sure, the hit made her knuckles hurt a little but now Qin was unconscious and wouldn’t be able to piss her off more. But most importantly, he was still alive. Mando let out a heavy sigh. 

“You didn’t want that to happen, you would have held me back,” Aili said, looking over at Mando with a blank look on her face. Mando didn’t say anything to deny her statement because she was right. He could have held her back even if she fought against his hold. 

“Get on the ship, make sure the droid is ready to go.” Mando said shortly. “I’ll get him on board.”

Aili didn’t have to be told twice as she stepped over Qin’s unconscious form and climbed the ladder quickly. She had barely placed both feet onto the ship’s floor when she spotted the droid in front of the now open hatch that led to the cot. Another glance let her know that it was holding a blaster and had it pointed at Little Green. She didn’t wait to ask questions, pulling her blaster out of its holster and shooting the droid. So now she or Mando would have to pilot the ship, oh well. 

“What happened?” Mando asked as soon as he tossed Qin on board and against a wall. He shut the hatch below him, sealing the ship off from the prison ship. She watched as he placed the beacon in Qin’s pocket and they both knew he wouldn’t notice it until it was too late. 

“Droid was going to shoot the kid,” Aili stated, putting her blaster away and picking up Little Green in one smooth movement. “We gotta get outta here and into hyperspace. Now.”

Mando stayed quiet as he moved past her and up the ladder. He quickly unhooked them from the prison ship and sent them into hyperspace. Even with the beacon rapidly counting down, they couldn’t be tracked easily through hyperspace. Aili waited down in the cargo for a moment before heading up into the cockpit to place Little Green into his seat, strapping him in before she took her own seat. 

The cockpit was silent as they got back to the hangar even as they heard Qin wake up at one point. He didn’t come up and they didn’t go down. Mando landed as quickly as he safely could, turning to Aili. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” 

He was gone for maybe a minute, getting their payment from Ran before immediately shutting the gangway. Aili didn’t wait for him to get back up to the cockpit, moving into his seat and lifting the landing gear, backing the ship out of the hangar. They had under two minutes to get the hell out of there now that the tracking signal was in a static position. Mando got back up to the cockpit, opting to stand behind his usual seat as he watched Aili dodge around the three New Republic ships that came out of hyperspace. 

They waited another minute before Aili sent them into hyperspace, no real destination in mind other than away from the space station and the New Republic X-Wings. “I told you that was a bad idea,” Mando said, leaning forward to unscrew the little metal ball that the kid liked so much. Aili narrowed her eyes, unsure who he was talking to but for his sake it better have been directed to Little Green. Because she had been very vocal about her dislike of the plan and distrust of the whole crew. 

“I’m going down to the cargo hold,” Aili suddenly said, the need to drink away her feelings back with a vengeance. She couldn’t even bring herself to care that they wouldn’t have to ever deal with Ran or Qin again. She didn’t wait for Mando to say anything, leaving the cockpit without another word and sliding down the ladder to go over to the one bag she kept hanging on the wall to keep it out of Little Green’s reach. 

She felt a small smile cross her face as she pulled out the bottle and took a long swig of it. It had been almost too long since she had been able to drink anything, too distracted taking care of Little Green and making sure Mando didn’t get them killed. The smile didn’t last very long as she went over everything that had gone wrong on this job. She unclasped the cuirass and set it down on top of one of her other bags, pulling her jacket off as well.

Aili took another long swig from the bottle, sliding down the wall to sit down on the still uncomfortable ship floor. She was still pissed. At herself, letting the fuckin’ Twi’lek for calling her an animal get to her, at Mando for even dragging them onto that job. She didn’t even care that she had been the one to tell him that they needed credits, he was the one who found the job so it was more his fault. 

She was also so wound up that she didn't trust herself to be around Mando for longer than a few minutes at the moment. Which is of course when the galaxy decided to send him her way because they were in hyperspace afterall, not much to do in the cockpit. 

“Drinking?” Mando didn’t even try to keep the surprise or disapproval out of his voice. He hadn’t even known that she had brought alcohol onto the ship. 

“Corellian whiskey, want some? It’s not as good as Tevraki whiskey but it’s all I had.” Aili held the bottle out towards him, knowing he wouldn’t accept it anyway. Couldn’t remove the helmet for even a drink in front of someone breathing. 

“Tevraki whiskey isn’t fully human-compatible.”

“Oh look at the man too scared to live dangerously,” Aili mocked. “You’re the one that used to fuck that Twi and she’s an aikiyc chakaar.”

“Are you drunk?” Mando asked, eyes narrowed behind his helmet trying to decide if Aili was or wasn’t already drunk. He had no idea how much she had already had to drink but he knew he didn’t want to deal with a drunk, pissed off Aili. 

“No.”

“Give me that.” Mando moved towards her, faster than she expected, and reached out to take the bottle away from her. 

“No!” Aili shouted, tightening her grip on the neck of the bottle before Mando could take it from her. She leaned to the side to move away from him but leaned too far towards empty space. They both went tumbling onto the ground, Aili’s head banging against the floor while Mando’s helmet thumped against the wall. Other than that they were fine. The bottle of whiskey, on the other hand, was not. It didn’t break but now there was wasted whiskey on the floor. Aili let out a growl and pushed herself back to her feet and she stared up at Mando with a heated glare.

She stared at him, chest heaving as she tried to decide how angry she was. “Where’s the kid?” 

At first she asked only so that she could kick Mando’s ass but then she had a better idea for the anger and other feelings she had felt building up from the moment they had landed on the prison ship. She only hoped that she could egg him on enough. Hoped that he would take the bait and she could work off the extra energy. She also wasn’t as blind as he seemed to think she was and not even he could hide it behind his helmet.

The helmet cocked to the side before he answered, “Asleep in the cockpit.”

Aili took one more moment to make up her mind before looking at Mando straight on, an unreadable expression on her face, "Good. Turn off the lights."

“What?” Mando was taken aback, unsure why Aili would want the lights off. 

“Turn off. The Lights.” Aili repeated herself, tilting her head a little. He slowly hit the button on his vambrace that would turn the lights off and then they were standing in the pitch blackness of the hangar. She spoke again, her voice steady and just a little darker than usual, "Take off your helmet."

She waited and was rewarded when she heard the sound of metal being placed down on the floor. She was surprised he didn’t argue but maybe he thought she was going to punch him and didn't want her to break her hand on the beskar. If only he knew.

She gave him another few seconds to stand up straight again before she grabbed out for him, pulling him into her and giving him a harsh kiss. She was a little impressed that she had gotten his lips on the first try but it wasn’t that hard to estimate where they were based on his height in comparison to her. He responded for about half a second, leather clad hands going to her hips and squeezing before he pulled away like he had been burned. “What are you doing?”

“What do you think I'm doing?” Aili asked, breath hot against his face and it took all his self control to not give in again. It had been so long...but he knew she wasn’t in her right mind. Why else would she want him?

“Making a mistake.”

Aili pushed herself up on her toes to speak into his ear, "You can either fuck me right now or take me down to a planet so I can find someone with the balls to do it."

“You’re not,” Mando paused, swallowing hard at the thought of... “You’re not in charge here.”

“Somebody has to be and you’re clearly not.”

“I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret tomorrow,” Mando said, trying to force himself to walk away. He didn’t know if he could, not when he had more than one thought running through his head and none of them were helpful. Not when he felt like this was a long time coming. Not when he still had his hands on her hips. 

“You think I’m actually drunk so let me reassure you; I am not drunk and I am telling, not asking, you to fuck me.”

The Mandalorian didn’t respond and Aili was already annoyed, ready to push him away and sent a course for the first planet she could think of. She went to say something else when a hand wrapped around her throat with no real pressure behind the grip. She let out a quiet gasp in surprise. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes.” 

He pushed her back against the wall, one thigh between her legs now. Aili let out a sound between a gasp and a whine as she rubbed herself on his beskar-covered thigh and the Mandalorian chuckled. The sound went straight to Aili’s core making her need it more. “Thought you didn’t like getting fucked against walls.”

“Shut up.” She didn’t need him using her own words against her, especially not something she had said literally months ago. How he even remembered that was beyond her. 

“What was that?” He asked, putting the barest amount of pressure on her throat, his thumb pressing down on her carotid just enough for her to feel it. Aili let out a breathy sound but that didn’t mean she was going to back down. Not when she was getting exactly what she wanted without even needing to try that hard. 

“You heard me.”

“Keep talking back and you can get yourself off,” Mando said, squeezing the hand around her throat just a little. Just enough for her to feel it and for him to feel as she swallowed. Which gave him an idea for another time, if another time ever happened of course. 

“I’ll shut up,” Aili started, a smirk that he couldn’t see crossing her face. “Sir.”

The Mandalorian let out a surprising growl before he removed his hand from her throat in order to use both hands to pick her up by her thighs and slam her against the wall. Aili let out a dark chuckle, “That’s more like it.”

“Keep that mouth shut before I find a use for it.”

“Promise?”

He removed one hand from her thighs and pulled her in by the back of her neck. Their lips met in a fiery crash and Mando forced Aili’s mouth open to deepen the kiss. They eventually parted and Aili knew she had made the right choice egging him on. She could feel his arousal against her own and if it were even possible, she felt herself get more turned on. She purposely ground herself against his still-covered cock and she smirked at the low groan he let out. 

Mando lowered her back down to the ground. “Take off your clothes.” His voice was raspy and Aili didn’t think her smirk would ever leave her face. But she did as she was told, letting him think he was calling the shots for now. As soon as she dropped her last piece of clothing onto the ground, Mando pushed her against the wall again and she let out a hiss at how cold both the wall and his armor were against her now bare skin. 

“I’m going to fuck you against this wall and you’re going to take it.”

“I don’t know you still seem like a lot of talk.”

Mando let out a long sigh, picking up one of her legs and hooking it around his hip rather than responding. Aili let out a gasp, she hadn’t even noticed that he had unzipped his pants and now his own arousal was rubbing against hers. Fuck he was big. She wished she could see it but that wouldn’t happen any time soon. But still, even just feeling it was enough to make her clench around nothing. 

Mando moved to get into a more comfortable position, his cock rubbing against Aili again. They both let out groans at the feeling and Aili hoped he would get on with it before she took matters into her own hands. Literally. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Mando groaned out. He wrapped a hand around his arousal and pumped it a few times, using her wetness to coat it.

“Mando,” Aili sighed out, needing more than he was giving her right now. 

“Be patient.”

“I’m done being patient,” Aili growled, using the leg he had hooked around his hip to bring him in closer if it were even possible. Mando was quick to bring his other hand to grip the back of her neck again, holding her in place for now. 

“Fine.” That was all he said before letting go of his cock and bringing his hand to Aili’s cunt. He wasn’t going to fuck her unless she was prepared first. He wasn’t that cruel. She let out a gasp when he entered one finger and she was belatedly thankful that he had at least removed his gloves. The rest of the armor being on though? That was doing things for her. 

Mando pumped his finger a few times before adding a second one, thrusting them in at a faster pace to work Aili towards her first orgasm. She grabbed at his arms and let out a loud moan. Why were his fingers so big? “Mando, please.”

“Never thought I’d hear you beg me,” he said before adding another finger and pushing his thumb against her clit and alternating between pumping his fingers in her heat and rubbing at her throbbing clit. “I want you to come for me first, mesh'la.”

It didn’t take long for Aili to clench down on his fingers, her hands tightening on his arms as her orgasm hit her. He worked her through it, pushing his fingers in and out until she sagged against him as the high faded away. Aili caught her breath, she knew it had been a while but she still wanted, no, needed more. “Are you going to fuck me now like I asked?”

“You just don’t know when to shut up, do you?” Mando asked, pulling his fingers out. He figured she was ready enough and he moved her into her earlier position. Up against the wall, both feet off the ground as he held her up by her thighs which were loosely wrapped around his waist. Kriff, she was so small in comparison to him, he thought to himself before shaking the thought away. He grabbed his cock with one hand and lined himself up with her cunt.

“If I did shut up, we wouldn’t be-” She was cut off by Mando completely sheathing himself into her with more speed than she had expected. She let out a loud gasp followed by a moan at the intrusion. Mando let out one just as loud as her wet heat enveloped his cock. It was better than he had expected. 

Mando chuckled, the sound right at her ear. “That shut you up, didn’t it?” 

He set a brutal pace, barely giving Aili enough time to catch her breath. She wrapped her hands around the back of his neck, unsure if her legs would give out and fall from their place around his waist even as she tried to lock her ankles together. Even with the pace he set, it wasn’t enough for her. “Harder.”

He obliged without saying a word, hands gripping at the back of her thighs so hard that she was sure she would have bruises when she woke up. The cargo hold was filled with too many sounds all at once, moans and grunts as well as the sound of flesh hitting flesh. Aili clenched without meaning to and Mando let out a curse. It felt so much better around his cock than it did his fingers. 

“Fuck, Mando,” Aili cried out, thighs twitching and tightening around his waist in intervals as little shocks went through her body. 

“Ibac’ner, cyar’ika.” Mando breathed out without meaning to, not even caring that he knew Aili knew some Mando’a. He doubted she had ever learned those words, probably only focusing on insults. 

“Fuck,” Aili gasped out when Mando hit a spot inside of her that made her see stars even in the darkness of the cargo hold. She knew this would be better than finding some idiot in a cantina who wouldn’t even fuck her right. She didn’t even know what the kriff he was saying in Mando’a but she found didn’t care at the moment. “Ri-right, right there.”

Mando adjusted his grip on her thighs, making it easier for him to angle his thrusts just right. He hit the spot with every push inside of her, sending her closer to a second orgasm. He was close too but he didn’t know where to come. Part of him, a part he usually kept deep below the surface, wanted to come inside but he couldn’t, wouldn’t, do that without asking and so he did before he could stop himself, “Where-where do you want me to come?”

“Inside, fuck, inside,” Aili groaned, her nails digging into his back as she felt her orgasm coming again. The thought of him coming inside of her was almost enough to push her over the edge. 

Mando was pretty sure he had heard wrong and his hips stuttered at the thought. There was no way she had...“Are you sure?”

“Mando, I swear to the Maker,” her words trailed off when he hit that spot again and she swore she saw a whole galaxy as she hit her peak for the second time that night. Mando kept pumping inside of her, working her through it once more until he felt his own climax coming. It only took a few more thrusts before he was releasing inside of her, a groan escaping him at the feeling. He usually wasn’t allowed to come inside and the thought of doing it now was too much. 

Aili held onto Mando’s shoulders, still coming down from her high. Her breath coming out in pants along with the Mandalorian’s. He had placed his forehead in the crook of her neck, his hot breath almost too much for her to handle. They stayed like that for a few minutes trying to catch their breath. 

“Are you okay?” Mando asked, his unfiltered voice still weird to Aili’s ears but she found that she preferred it to the voice modulator. No, she wasn’t going to analyze why that was just yet. Or ever. 

“I’m great,” Aili finally said, pulling away from Mando and leaning the back of her head against the wall. 

Mando pulled out, letting Aili’s feet touch the ground again, and tucked himself back into his pants. He listened to Aili get dressed and waited until she was done to speak. “Do you want to tell me what that was about?”

“Is this your idea of pillow talk because I don’t see any pillows,” Aili said, hoping she could talk her way out of explaining the literal storm going through her mind at the moment. The fact that she had probably just screwed up their semi-professional relationship was one of the last things on her mind but it was still there.

Mando let out a deep sigh. “It’s pitch black in here, you can’t see shit anyway.”

Aili paused for a long minute, trying to weigh her options. Either way would make her seem weak but what did she really have to lose now? They had already fucked. “I’m not an animal,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself.

“What are you talking about? What Xi’an said?” Mando was actually surprised. He had noticed that Aili had all but shut down after Xi’an had called her that but he hadn’t thought it was this bad. He had simply thought it was like everyone else calling her a loth-cat, that she was just ten levels of angry and annoyed. 

“No, yes. It’s complicated.” Aili didn’t know how to explain that it had nothing to do with Xi’an, not really. It didn’t have anything to do with the job, not really although that hadn’t helped at all. 

“If this is because you almost killed her, I don’t care about that.”

“I told you how I grew up. They...treated us like the fathiers on Canto Bight, just numbers in a system. To be used and then disposed of when we outgrew our use,” Aili let out a chuckle that sounded a little watery to Mando’s ears but he wasn’t about to comment on it when Aili was opening back up. “I never stopped being of use to them.

“They made me...they made me fight every single girl that made it through basic, the ones without potential by the time they were eight they--" Aili had to stop talking, clearing her throat a little. 

“You don’t have to tell me.” Mando interrupted now understanding why she had been emotional when telling him how old Sula had been when she destroyed the base. To know that she could have been made to kill a child that was now a foundling in the Covert. 

“They put a blaster in my hand and told me to kill them because I was the Leader,” Aili spit the word out like it was a curse. For all Mando knew, it could have been back then. “Any time I refused they would shoot me instead and let it bleed for hours before giving me bacta. Eventually I would, I would just kill them, to save myself from the pain. Do you know how fucked up that is?”

“They treated you like…" He was beginning to understand why she had chosen to not join the Covert or take the Creed. She still felt guilty about being made to hurt and kill children. Probably couldn’t look at the other foundlings without sizing them up. 

“Animals,” Aili interrupted before Mando could keep talking. “You can have the cot tonight, I don’t think I’ll get much sleep.”

She made to go back up to the cockpit. “No,” Mando said, reaching out to stop Aili from leaving, a gentle hand on her arm that she surprisingly didn’t shrug off. “You need sleep.”

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not a child?” Aili asked, staring up at the dark space where she assumed Mando was standing based off the hand on her arm. 

"Don't act like one then.”

Aili narrowed her eyes knowing that Mando couldn’t see it anyway, “You know this doesn’t change anything between us.”

“Didn’t think it would.”

Aili glared at Mando, or the space she was still assuming he was. “Well we can’t just leave Little Green up in the cockpit by himself.”

“Little Green?” Mando asked with a quiet chuckle. That was not the kind of nickname he would have expected from her nor any kind of nickname. She still called the small green alien, “the Child” or even just “the kid” around him and others out loud. 

“Shut up.” 

That was more like it, Mando thought to himself. “I’ll go get him.”

Aili didn’t comment on the fact that Mando had left the lights off despite putting his helmet back on. Mando came back down soon enough, handing the kid over to Aili without saying anything. His helmet allowed him to watch as she hesitated before heading over to the cot. He didn’t say anything as she left the hatch open, leaving her an out if she needed to get up fast and he wondered if that was a thing from her life before. Or something she picked up after blowing up an Imperial base and probably making enemies of people she had grown up knowing. The light coming from the hatch was barely enough to make the rest of the cargo hold visible past a few inches but he kept his helmet on as Aili fell asleep. 

He watched as she curled around the kid, Little Green she had called him, and he wondered if that was what it had been like before she found the Covert. If that had been why the Armorer had made the agreement she had, had seen a lost 20-something year old who had no idea how to take care of herself let alone four children that she had saved from a fate worse than death. 

He ignored the growing feeling in his chest as he sat down against the ladder leading up to the cockpit, watching over the sleeping pair and hoping they could have at least a little time before the next inevitable shitstorm. He slid his helmet off once more, once he was sure that Aili was asleep, and he just watched and wondered about more than he needed to think about.