#in theory she would look exactly the same

[iridescentmidnights]

It would be neat to have gender bent Kevin, Lucy, and Glitch, especially if the gender bent Glitch gets clothes.

I have a concept of 11yr old genderbent Kevin.

I keep calling her Edith or Edi (just "E-D"). For my Jen 10 au I'm not sure if I'll genderbend other characters, I might but it's unlikely. But I might do one offs for fun, like one-time art or "what-ifs", but idk yet. I keep trying to come up with ideas story wise and design wise but I'm only invested in Jen.

I also don't know if I will include Glitch, Eunice already fills the role well. But if I think of a way to include Glitch I'd like to. But no promises, sorry.

[reiderwriter]

Hi Kacie!! Now that your requests are open... Could I request a smutty fic where Spencer finds out reader has a not-so-common sensitive spot (like her legs, hair, arms, whatever body part you want). Maybe he finds out kinda in a public setting after she gets all flustered and wants to keep pushing to test his theory?? You can take as much inspo from this as you want<3

(If this emoji's not taken)-💃 anon

A/N: Hello! Sorry for going MIA for a while there. It was the beginning of a new school year here in SK, so I've been really busy! I've been chipping away at this one little by little, and it's finally done! I hope you enjoy it ♡

Warnings; Smut, 18+ Minors DNI, case details, misogyny from a bartender in the opening scene, Semi-public sexual experimentation, edging, PinV sex, use of pet names (good girl), slight degradation, cum play, etc.

Masterlist

The back of the bar was dimly lit as you walked through it, keeping pace with your teammate as you kept one eye on the shady inhabitants of the bar. 

You'd been sent - with Spencer of all people - to ask the local dive bar staff about suspicious regulars. A fact that didn't exactly take into account his general lack of intimidating looks and your status as the newest member of the team. 

A trial by fire if you'd ever seen one. 

You tried your best not to stick out like a sore thumb, but the people in these parts could spot a Fed from a mile away. And though Spencer was remarkably pipe-cleaner-like, they'd certainly recognised enough FBI in him to clam up upon your entrance. 

“We got some visitors, I see. What can I be getting you, little lady?” The barman greeted you as you reached the first stool at the counter, a patronizing smile on his moustache clad lips. 

“If it's okay, we'd like to ask you some questions. I'm Agent Y/N with the FBI. This is my partner, Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“You're a Fed? Now, why would you bother doing all that hard work when you could be warming my bed, girl. It's definitely more honest and satisfying work.” 

The way the man leered at you over the counter has you freezing momentarily. Your instincts were saying fight, but you held your tongue just long enough to not ruin any rapport your team could build with locals. 

“I'm flattered, but already spoken for I'm afraid. Have you seen any suspicious men in here in the last six months, one that would pass through only semi-regularly, maybe with a few female companions, though never the same.” 

Professionalism at the cost of your peace of mind was going to be a hard learn for you as you grit your teeth and swallowed the bile in your throat. 

He just continued to leer at you as he dried up beer glasses. 

“You're looking for a man who likes cheap whores? Maybe you are in the market for a career change after all.” 

That was about all you could take, and luckily, Spencer Reid was well aware. 

Quickly grabbing you by the wrist, he pulled you behind him defensively and leaned over the bar, his voice low and somewhat chilling. 

“Disrespect my partner like that again, and I'll have you charged with aiding and abetting a murderer who has kidnapped and ended the lives of three local girls. Local girls whose fathers you're more than likely acquainted with, who absolutely have multiple acres of property and just enough bullets to put you in the ground.” 

The blood rushed to your ears at his voice, but the light grip of your wrist held you in place indefinitely. 

All the fight left your body, as you found yourself coming dangerously close to melting into Spencer in relief. 

He forced the man to answer some more basic questions, but it wasn't as if you could hear them. He stroked a quick thumb back and forth across your wrist as all the thoughts fled your head, and the words fell asleep on your tongue, resting there until he released you from his grip. 

You'd known that the area was slightly sensitive for a while, having accidentally brushed up against things and felt serious chills shoot up your spine. What you hadn't known was that it was that kind of sensitivity. 

Though, in all honesty, you hadn't exactly known that you could feel that kind of excitement for Spencer either. You just hoped he wouldn't notice. That much. 

Having finished his line of questioning and reiterating his threat, he moved his hand from your wrist to the small of your back and adeptly guided you from the restaurant and out of the line of vision of every pair of eyes in the place. 

“Are you okay?” He asked when he finally got you to the car, voice still quiet and low, and slightly too close to let you fully relax. 

“Peachy. He talked to you at least.” You turned away from him and began opening the passenger side door. 

“Nothing new or useful, though. Your bpm is high,” he joined you in the car, putting on his seat belt while you completely let go of yours, letting it zip back into itself.

“My… my what?” 

“Your bpm is high. Your heart was beating so fast,” he said, reaching over you to help you reclip it. “Were you nervous, Y/n? Or just sensitive?”

“Your mouth is entirely too close to mine to be asking that question,” you breathed out, cursing your eyes from stealing a glance at his lips. 

Only five minutes into this sudden attraction to Spencer Reid, and you were already mortified and extremely horny. In equal measures. 

“What would be the appropriate distance to ask that, then?” 

“I hear Australia is lovely this time of year.” 

He chuckled softly at you as he finished adjusting your seat and then moved far enough away to let the ground swallow you in peace. 

Never one to leave well enough alone, it seemed that Spencer took it upon himself to experiment with you for weeks on end after that. 

He'd constantly ask you to pass him papers, pens, anything that'd allow him to run a finger across the inside of your wrist. On more than one occasion you'd caught him staring into your eyes as he did it, and it took a nearly embarrassing amount of time to realise he was checking how dilated your pupils were before and after. 

When he'd gathered enough data for that line of questioning, he moved on to bigger things. 

You knew you were in danger of seriously falling head over ads when he offered to walk you to your motel door in a seedier case location. 

You, an FBI agent with a real-life gun and badge and job at Quantico, and you were jumping at the chance to have a man walk you to your room. You'd have been embarrassed if you weren't burning with anticipation. 

You hoped that like every other man in history, he was gently trying to insinuate himself into your bedroom, and by extension, your bed and more intimate places. 

So you were more than slightly disappointed when he started wishing you a good night. All of the aforementioned disappointment fled your body, though, when he picked up your hand and dropped a kiss to the inside of your left wrist, repeating the action on the right before wordlessly retreating. 

You stared at his back as he walked purposefully down the corridor and into his own room, leaving you to pick up your jaw and retreat to your room to lick your wounds. 

You wished it was him picking you up instead and found your brain imagining just that as your fingers dropped between your thighs that night. 

It became a case tradition for him to tease you like this, kissing your wrist after innocently walking you back to your hotel room. The others thought it chivalrous, almost cute and childlike, a form of courting that graced the good old days. They didn't know he grabbed you by the waist and held you against his hard-on every time you rode an elevator together. They didn't know his tongue darted out a few times to lick your wrist on occasion. They didn't know how you once mentally begged him to bite you there and how you shuddered as he ran his teeth along the vein there. 

Spencer was coming to the crux of his research regarding how far he could push you before you cracked. Only now, it was how far he could get without pushing you against a wall and jumping your bones. 

You knew you were in danger when he offered to escort you home after a case. 

“To walk you to your door, you know? Like always,” he smiled at you, the picture of innocence as you became damp between your thighs. 

“Sure. Yeah, okay, I'll get my keys, let's go.” 

You weren't sure how no one else noticed that Spencer didn't have a car to drive himself home after taking you to yours. You were unsure if they'd connect the dots between him escorting you home and his own apartment being 45 minutes in the opposite direction. 

Luckily for you, you could keep your hands at 2 and 10 the entire journey, away from his grasp. If he'd have touched you right then, you're sure you'd have driven both of you right off the road into a ditch. 

Or a pedestrian. 

The drive was calm, but pulling up forced your heart to your throat and kept it suspended there, almost like it was frozen at gunpoint, a deer in the headlights. 

“We're here.” 

“Great. Let me walk you in.” 

In. You swallowed hard, wishing very much for him to be inside of your apartment. 

“Okay.” 

Stepping into the elevator a few minutes later, he waited mere seconds after the doors began closing to pull you into his personal space. He was hard, he was so hard once again and his cock was now straining against your ass.

“Spencer, we need to talk about t-that,” he stroked your wrist as his hand splayed across your stomach, holding you firmly against him. 

“About what, Y/N?” 

He pulled your arm up almost as if inspecting the wrist for imperfections, and your head melted back into his chest. Why was this elevator so goddamn slow? 

You sprung out quickly when the doors pinged open finally and moved straight towards your door without a glance back, but you felt him close behind you. 

“Y/N, wait for me, wait, I'm sorry,” he called out quietly as you forced your keys into the lock as fast as possible. 

“Y/N, I'm sorry if I stepped over the line, I didn't mean too, please look at me-” 

You got the door open and turned back around to grab a firm hold of his tie and yank him into the apartment behind you. 

“Months. Spencer, you have been edging me for months, and I am sick of it.” You half growled at him, slamming the door behind him and then pushing him up against it. 

“I can feel how hard you are right now. Obviously you want to fuck me, so why aren't you?” 

His face went from shocked to intrigued, then shot straight for mischievous as he cracked a smile, and you felt his hands wrap around your wrists slowly. 

Before you could react, he had your positions swapped, your arms above your head pinned at the wrists and his breath hitting your neck as he answered. 

“I wanted to see how long it would take you to break.” 

Your lips leapt to his, hitting him angrily as you searched for more pleasure in his touch, one leg pushing up to wrap around his waist as his hips settled between yours. 

He met you at your level, giving just as good as he got.   

“Call it scientific curiosity,” he murmured, lips trailing down your neck, but hips pinning you in closer to the wall, keeping you trapped there. He made his way along your shoulders and then pressed light teasing kisses up your arms while rutting his hips into you, dry humping you against the wall as your eyes glazed over in lust. 

“You react when I touch you, you heat up. But it gets worse if I touch you here, right Y/N?” His lips again found your wrist, but this time his teeth grazed across the veins he found there. 

“You get so horny now when I look at you. I can grab your wrist and make you beg for my cock, isn't that right?” His mouth was back by your ear as your legs went limp under you. He still had you caged against your own door, and you had no idea what to say to that. 

Part of you wanted to protest purely because of the rough tone of voice he was using. The other wanted to flood to the floor and tell him yes, beg him to just fuck you and be done with this pure torture. 

“I asked you a question, Y/N. Isn't that right?” 

“Yes, yes, Spencer fuck, I don't care anymore, yes. You can touch me and I'll react to you, please help me.”

“Good girl.” 

He pulled away instantly, but his hands wrapped firmly still around your wrists. Slowly, he pulled you towards him as he slowly walked backwards further into your apartment. You thought for a second about just throwing yourself back into his arms, to close the space he'd created again between the two of you. 

You tried it, lifted your head slightly, begging his lips to return there, but he held firm. Each step was an agony of need, and you fought to hold your tongue, begging yourself not to beg him so pathetically. 

“Such a good girl, I'm holding you by the wrist, and you won't even protest about how slow I'm being.” 

Your mouth fell open as you registered his words. 

“You're being an ass.” 

“What was that? You want me to touch your ass?”

“Spencer!”

“Don't worry, we'll get to that.”

His back finally made contact with your bedroom door, and you stumbled forward into his chest as he kept his grip even still. 

“You're going to listen, right? You're going to listen to me and do what I ask you to do, aren't you?”

You wavered again. He'd been teasing you, but now he was serious, his tone light and his voice soft, but you could feel the strength in his grip. You could feel his arousal at your hip. 

“Yes, Spencer.”

“Good. Get on your knees on the bed. No clothes.”

He released your hands and opened the door for you as you tried your best to walk forward calmly. 

By the time you reached the bed, you'd removed most of your clothes, but you hesitated at the underwear as he watched from behind you. A quick glance over your shoulder saw him palming his cock through his pants, still leaning against the door he'd opened for you. 

He was getting off watching you, and you were frozen in arousal. 

“No clothes, Y/N.” 

“I know.”

“Underwear is clothing.” 

“I know that, too, Spencer.”

“Then take it off.” 

You shot a quick glare over your shoulder as you unclaimed your bra behind your back and threw it to the floor. 

“On my knees, right?” You said, climbing on the bed still clad in your panties. 

“I also said no clothes.” 

“If you're so invested in my state of dress, how about you come and help me rectify it.”

His lips twitched in small annoyance, but he followed the trail of clothes you'd left, ridding himself of his tie, shirt, jacket, and pants along the way. 

He climbed on the bed slowly behind you, not opposite as you'd presumed he would. His hands reached out to touch your back before slowly sliding all the way up to your neck and pushing your upper body down into the sheets. 

You let out a little squeak in shock, but let his hands guide you, feeling especially pliant when he grabbed your hands and crossed them behind your back. 

“Maybe the panties can stay. I'll just decorate them afterwards,” he said, and with that, he pulled your hips up with his free hand  guiding you into the position he wanted you in, and pushed two fingers into you. 

“Fuck, Spencer-” your brain short circuited as he pumped the digits slowly in and out of you, setting an agonizing pace but holding you so tight that.you couldn't even press your cunt back into his fingers. 

“What? What is it, Y/N? Tell me how you feel?” 

“Feel good, so good Spencer, p-please more.” 

He shifted slowly behind you, pulling his fingers out almost completely before pushing them back in, this time with another finger added. He didn't quicken his pace as you assumed he would, but he took his time stretching you out further as you moaned and whined underneath him. 

“More. You wanted more,” he reminded you, and his voice was like a sharp hit straight to your cunt, rough and hot and filling you completely. 

You barely registered the orgasm that flowed over you, your brain replaying his words on a loop as he continued pleasuring you. 

“That's it. That's a good girl. Get my fingers nice and wet.” 

When you finally grounded yourself in the moment again, your cheeks flushed as you realized just how wet you'd gotten. You felt your arousal still dripping down your leg and turned your face further into the sheets to hide your embarrassment. 

He pulled his fingers out of you, though, and with his now free hand he crouched over you and hooked his fingers under your jaw lifting your head and body up, forcing your crotch back into his as your back arched. 

“Don't hide from this. Look how wet you are for me, Y/N. Taste it.” He tapped his fingers against your mouth and you were ashamed at how fast your lips dropped open, tongue falling out to let him wipe his cum stained fingers against your pretty little lips. 

You tasted yourself on his fingers, wrapping your tongue around them and sucking as he dragged his dick across your back, trying to relieve himself in any way he could. 

“Good girl. It's time for one more, Y/N.” 

You released his fingers with a wet pop as he pushed you back into the sheets. Lining himself up, he entered you easily, your cum providing ample lubricant. 

You whined at his first few pumps, certain he was going to continue his torturous pace and leave you begging for more hours into the night. 

Instead, he let himself work you up to it, each thrust gaining in speed and strength until you could hear the slap of your skin against his more vividly than your own heartbeat. 

His cock was thick, filling you perfectly as you lost yourself in the sensations. 

“One day, I'll handcuff you to this bed,” he said, leaning down and whispering in your ear as each part of your body vibrated with lust. 

“I'll tie you down to this bed, and I'll treat you like a princess. I'll eat your cunt for hours until you cum every time my breath hits your cunt, and I'll cover your pretty tits in my seed. I'll let you use my cock as your personal sex toy, and I'll fulfill every single need you have.” 

His hand released your wrists as both of his hands came to wrap around your waist, pushing you deeper into the plush covers and changing the angle of his dick. 

You screamed at the pleasure, forgetting the paper thin walls your apartment boasted. 

“Fuck, Spencer.” 

“And you're going to love every single second because your brain switches off every time I touch your delicate little wrists.”

With that, another wave of pleasure spread through your body, sending prolonged shivers throughout your body. 

You felt him withdraw and heard the sticky mess of him stroking himself behind you until he made good on his promise and sprayed his generous load across your ass and panties before collapsing on the bed next to you. 

The two of you laid there for what felt like hours, sharing nothing but your labored breaths and the space of the bed before he finally rose. 

You tried not to sleep, but your entire body felt stiff from the awkward, if enjoyable, position he'd held you in. 

Your eyes drifted shut, and you just listened to his movements. A creaking floorboard here, a stumble against some furniture there, culminating in some running water and a return to your space. 

“Y/N,” he whispered, cautious to rise you from what he assumed was much needed sleep. 

“Mmmm,” was all you could reply.

“I realize now that I made a pretty big mess, so we need to get you in the bath.” 

“Mmm,” you protested, brows furrowing as you tried to gather your sheets closer around you, cradling yourself in the warmth. 

But doing so only made you more aware of the sticky wet mess around your torso and legs, and you let out a small, frustrated sigh. 

“You're stubborn, you know that, right?” He said, admiration coating his tongue as he lifted you slowly and helped you place your feet on the floor and walk towards your bathroom. 

“Spencer, shouldn't have a bath, too sleepy.” 

“I know, I'm going to stay.”

“In the bath?” 

“In the bath.” 

“Good.”

And it was. You let him lift your legs one by one into the scorching water and melted back into him, your head resting on his shoulder as if it were the most comfortable pillow you'd ever used, and you slept. 

[mintedwitcher]

talk to me about the bucktommy invisible string theory, if you please 🎤

Okay hear me out. Without Tommy? Buck would not be where he is now, and so much of the 118 falls apart without him:

Tommy starts at the 118 closeted and desperate to hide it so he follows along with the boys club

Howie arrives and starts chipping away at that by trying to become actual friends with his team mates

Tommy only decides to open up after Howie stuck his neck out to save Tommy's life from that retail explosion. This is the start of his separation from the boys club mentality

Hen joins the 118 and Tommy sees how quickly Gerrard shits on her (his look when Gerrard calls Hen the "latest diversity hire" is almost sheer disgust, hidden fairly quickly) despite Hen proving that she is just as smart and capable as anyone else on the job

Hen's "I see you" speech is his catalyst; he files complaints against Captain Gerrard, contributing to Gerrard being fired and Bobby being instated as captain

The boys club is almost done with anyway, but Tommy's done playing with that mindset. He befriends Hen and Howie.

He is personally present to witness the shift in dynamic happening once again when Bobby instates family dinners as a 118 tradition

When he eventually leaves to join Harbour, he leaves a gap in the 118 A-shift to be filled by none other than Evan Buckley, probie.

If Chim hadn't saved Tommy's life: Tommy wouldn't have started to pull back from the boys club, or really understood the issues with Gerrard's captaincy.

If Tommy hadn't reported Gerrard: Bobby wouldn't have become captain.

If Tommy had stayed at the 118: there'd be no room for Buck.

If Tommy hadn't befriended Hen and Chim: Buck never would've met Tommy.

Tommy Kinard is the linchpin holding it all in place. If just one single decision had been changed, everything would be different. Buck is where he is, with the family he's found, because of Tommy Kinard. And he can't see it. Tommy can't see the bigger picture, the opportunities he created with his seemingly small actions. And Buck is exactly the same way.

Their paths were always meant to cross. They were always meant to know each other, to fall in love. Because without even knowing it, Tommy has always been making a space for Evan. And just like with their first date, it turns out that Tommy stepping away is exactly what Buck needed in order to step forward.

I guess if you really want to go in on the metaphor: Buck's been following the pull of this invisible string for a long time, following Tommy from such a distance that he can't see the other end of the string yet, can't see who he's following. He just knows he's searching for something. For someone. And then the pull slacked once Buck got to the 118. The tether relaxed when they both stood still, when they both found the right places to wait. And one act of loyalty and courage from a friend years ago echoed along the string to pull them closer together, until they were standing in the same place.

By a helicopter on an airfield, preparing to fly out into literally unknown waters, the string pulled them in tight and said: "There he is. He's what you've been looking for, what youve been waiting for. Go get him."

Or something like that.

[whateversawesome]

Some Theories about Anya's Name

Who would have thought a short chapter would bring so much information and discussion? But then again, we're talking about Anya, agent of chaos (according to her papa).

After that chapter, there's plenty of theories flying around, so I decided to make this post to compile, explain and expand these theories 😉

Ready?

Anya is an acronym: This one is pretty clear has been a popular general theory. It means that the letters of her name stand for something else. What exactly? We don't know yet, but it probably has to do with Project Apple and the infamous lab Anya was created.

Anya...Ania...OstANIA: If you live near small children, you probably know that when they are learning how to talk, they do it by picking up words adults say and many times they say those words wrong. While discussing with some friends, I imagined those scientists constantly saying the word Ostania in front of that little girl. Maybe baby Anya thought that was her name because she heard the word OstANIA all the time, but she couldn't say it right.

Anya, the foreign princess: This one is very simple. It means that her name was spelled differently in her country of origin. This theory is vague, but I do believe a third country could be involved in all this mess. Also, it would make sense for Anya to be hiding in Ostania, if she was born and kept captive in a different country.

Anya...A N/A: This one is one of the most interesting theories! A N/A would mean something like "Non-applicable". You probably think this doesn't say much, but it really does. In the first few chapters of the story we learned that Anya was adopted and returned 4 times. Instead of a child, she was returned as if she was a piece of clothing. Even though it's been barely mentioned, we've also learned that people that participated in Project Apple didn't treat the subjects nicely (see how they treated Bond). Those people called Anya "subject 007". They didn't even give her a name. If we think about it, Anya is very "non-applicable". She was created in a lab, she has a strange power, so she's not like the other kids, she's been adopted and returned 4 times...

The A N/A and Anya being treated like an object instead of a human being fits the Spy x Family premise of the story, which is: Humans like Twilight, Yor, and Anya are used as weapons instead of being treated like humans. The story is about them regaining their humanity through love and family.

So even if A N/A says nothing about Anya, it says a lot about the story.

Look at this little girl. This illustration was heartbreaking. Do you know when it takes place? It's right before he meets Twilight. We see that it's the same filthy orphanage Twilight visited on chapter 1 and this is not Anya's first orphanage, so that means this illustration happened after she was returned again. The way she's facing the door, her body language, the way she holds Mr. Chimera by the hand is so sad. Here she is, once again, in a place she doesn't want to be, where nobody will take care of her...alone 😭

Enough of that or we'll end up crying...🤧

Some other things to take into consideration about her name:

Mr. Chimera: Since this is a visual story, that panel of Mr. Chimera tells us that this plushie is involved in Anya's name. If you've read certain fic, you know where I stand on that. In this case, I think that yes, the person who helped Anya escape gave Mr. Chimera to her. However, I don't think it was exactly that character (you know who). It probably was someone else, maybe even a new character we don't know yet. It could also be a scientist who took pity on Anya or disagreed with the use of children as lab rats, and helped her escape. We don't know yet.

Twilight: One of the most beautiful panels on that short chapter was seeing Anya's eyes lit up when her papa told her the correct spelling of her name. Did you see it? Those were the eyes of someone who had just learned something new about herself and by doing this, Twilight made her even more human.

One more thing...I've seen speculations about the next arc of the manga being about Anya's past because of this short mission. In my opinion...I don't think it'll happen yet. Why? If it was the case, this would have been a longer chapter and the actual beginning of the arc.

I believe Anya's past will be one of the last things we learn, because there's plenty of things to resolve and a lot of information we don't have. Stories are like puzzles; this chapter was an important piece, but we're not working on that part yet.

[gglitch1dd]

Happy Birthday, Kane

Context: Bakugou's son, Kane never really knew what home felt like in a long time, but he finds it it in a place right in front of him.

Warning: Hints of emotional neglect, absent parenting, abusive parents, bad parent Bakugou Katsuki, violence, mentions of drinking, mentions of past divorce. Happy ending. Angst and fluff.

Kane- pronounced: Kah-Neigh. not like Cane.

Bakugou Kane poured out the water in his pot filled with macaroni. He was careful not to burn himself. He set down the strained out macaroni and put it down on the stand.

He brushed his forehead with the back of his arm, the feeling of his woolen sweater brushed against his forehead. The sound of thunder outside was ignored as he moved to stir the pot of sauce that he had on the stove.

If there was one thing Kane was used to, ever since the divorce of his two fathers, it was cooking for two but eating alone. He assumed his father ate the leftovers considering he always found the glass containers from the fridge in the sink. Well... whenever he was home that is.

He was grateful that half the year he was in the UA dorms so interacting with his father was a rarity, exactly as it would be were he home.

Whenever he did see his father, it wasn't a pleasant experience, 8 times out of 10. Usually he never really saw his father considering he was a workaholic, or if he did see him, he was either busy on the phone, training him till his body felt like it was going to break or he was escorting some model out of their apartment.

Bakugou Katsuki had a thing for models and beefy himbos, Kane noticed.

A few years ago, Kane would have hated it, but now he just... stopped caring. It was easier that way. Some of them were pretty nice, most weren't, especially when they realised that he was still a minor.

It had just been Kane and his father for the past five years. During the divorce, Eijiro had fought hard to keep both Kane and Satomi however, considering that he had no biological relationship to him, Katsuki used that to win the custody battle. It was a messy affair and one that Kane hated every second of, especially the first two years when Katsuki had virtually forbade Kane from ever seeing Satomi or his dad.

Kane missed his sister and his dad, despite always knowing they were never related to one another (as his father liked to emphasis to him). They were two beacons of light in his life that were snuffed away. He first found it unfair that Satomi got to have the perfect family, with a new step mom and her dad who adored her and a new baby sister too. She wasn't ever forgotten or ignored. She was allowed to pursue her interest of not wanting to be a hero too.

Her blond brother on the other hand, wasn't afforded such a luxury. His father always told him, as a Bakugou, he had to show nothing less than excellence, so not wanting to become a hero was an instant no go. Considering they had the same quirk, it wasn't hard for his father to teach him but when his father found out that the quirk theory was true, and that Kane's strength was stronger and held an aspect of being able to detonate an explosion from his sweat by will from a distance away, it was almost like he struck a gold mine.

His father would train him till he got spotted dots in his vision and he could barely move an inch. Training was hell on earth, especially training against a veteran ProHero that had years of experience. Worst part was his father knew every weakness he had and used it.

"Get up." His father's voice echoed as Kane lay on the ground coughing. His forearms spasmed in pain of overuse of his sweat glands and he couldn't push himself up even if he tried. His father scowled at him. "Get up, Kane." Kane coughed as he looked up, his throat parched and his body weighing him down. He planted his hand onto the ground underneath him, trying to muster up the strength to push himself up, however a stab of pain went through him from his arms and he wound back on the floor with a hiss. "I-I can't." He let out weakly. "When I was your age, I could push myself to training four hours a day with nothing but myself to practise with. You're stronger than me. You can get up." He spoke with a critical eye.

However, he remembered the day that he got second place in the sports competition, Toshinori having gotten first due to the fact that he had mustered out blackwhip. The two of them were best friends and thus did sparring together at school or whenever Kane managed to sneak a visit, however he didn't tell Kane about that trick and that's how he managed a silver medal in second place. He was proud of it.

Bakugou Katsuki was not.

Kane always felt more like a soldier or an experiment than a son. Considering he barely got anything other than that little trick from his egg doner, he was virtually identical to his father. His grandparents, Bakugou Mitsuki and Masaru, always commented how he looked like a cut out picture of his dad when he was younger.

Other than the fact that Kane was noticeably more calmer. Now Kane had his moments where he would shout or get pissed off like a short fuse, but relatively, he was pretty... monotonous in expression. He was as sharp as a needle and his words could sting, but his expression masked everything else.

Kane heard the front door open and soft giggles filled the air, as well as his father's low whiskey voice. Looks like he was home with whatever fling he had today. Kane looked at the clock in the kitchen. It was already ten. He was home early. Kane switched off the stove and moved to grab a container, knowing his father wouldn't eat anywhere in the next two hours.

Bakugou Katsuki walked into view by the entrance of the kitchen with a short woman with long black hair and dark brown eyes. She was in a tight pencil skirt but the first few buttons of her shirt were open showing her cleavage and a bright neon orange bra. Her eyes widened at the sight of Kane. She smiled. "Hello Kane!" She waved her hand over to him. At the mention of his son, Katsuki glanced to the right.

Kane didn't smile but he nodded his head. "Hey Miss Nishimura." That was him being nice. He didn't bother keeping track of his father's conquests unless they were favourites, and she was one of them. A reoccurring favourite the last two months.

"Hey kid. You alive?" Katsuki asked more as a formality, Kane wasn't sure if he actually cared, considering he was already heading past the kitchen towards his bedroom, which Kane learnt to avoid from the age of twelve after the divorce.

Kane grabbed a cloth but turned towards where his father was. "Pops, can I talk to you quickly?"

Katsuki paused, his arm still around Miss Nishimura. He let out an annoyed breath but raised an eyebrow. "Can it wait?"

"Unfortunately, no. I kinda want to go to bed after dinner." He reasoned.

Katsuki turned to Miss Nishimura, a side kick at his agency. He reached down his mouth at her ear as he whispered something to her. She let out a giggle but nodded her head. He kissed her jaw and allowed her to leave, her heels clacked against the floor.

Katsuki faced the entrance of the kitchen and entered. His button up shirt sleeves was pushed up to his elbows. Due to his nitroglycerin sweat, he looked younger than he was, but still had the frown wrinkles that were starting to appear just lightly on his face. "What is it? You want money or somethin'?" He asked, his speech giving way to a slight drawl that Kane recognised as him having drunk recently. He wasn't surprised though.

Ever since the divorce there were two things that Bakugou Katsuki had picked up. Alcohol and one-night stands. He recycled women and men like they were plastic bottles but the drinking was a new one. Kane was just lucky that the drinking didn't come with beatings. It just came with the insistent ramblings about you, Mrs Midoriya.

Kane found his father's obsession with you very confusing in the beginning, but when his father gave one of his drunken rambles about how he lost you, the pieces clicked and it made sense.

Kane shook his head at his father's question. "No, I don't." He put the cloth that he had in his hands down on the countertop. "Tomorrow's my birthday."

"Your birthday?" Katsuki let out with furrowed eyebrows. He scratched the back of his head. "How old are you again? Sixteen?"

"Seventeen." Kane corrected, not allowing himself to be hurt in the slightest way possible. His face was blank of all emotion, a monotonous look on his face as he looked to his father. "I'm going to the Midoriyas tomorrow. Toshinori said he planned something with Satomi and Dad wants me to come for dinner so I'll only be back the day aft-"

"Wait, wait, wait." Katsuki stopped him as he furrowed his eyebrows together. "Why the hell would you go to the Midoriyas tomorrow?"

Kane wasn't sure whether this was a trick question or not. "They invited me to celebrate my birthday there."

"But you're here."

The younger blond raised an eyebrow. "Were you going to be here tomorrow?"

Katsuki opened his mouth but he hesitated. Kane got his answer. Katsuki sighed as he dragged his hand through his hair. "I would have come home early." Kane didn't buy it but he didn't even try to roll his eyes, he didn't want to get punished for showing any sign of disrespect. "But you've got no reason to go to their house, nor to go to Eijiro's."

"But they are my friends." Kane reasoned. "And dad-"

"That man is not your father!" Katsuki shouted, slamming his fist on the table, making Kane close his mouth. Eijiro was always a sensitive topic in their house, and Katsuki hated talking about him. Kane guessed it was due to the fact that Eijiro was the one that asked for a divorce. Smoke floated up from his clenched fist. Katsuki took a deep breath trying to calm himself down. "Kane, decide. If you want to go out, we can go out. You want to go to an amusement park or something? You used to like that one waterpark outside of town."

"That was when I was seven." Kane sighed as he put a hand to his forehead. "Pops, I don't want to go anywhere. I don't want anything at all either, I just want to be with my friend, Satomi and Da- Eijiro." He explained. "I don't want anything else."

Katsuki frowned. "What? Am I not enough for you?" He asked motioning to himself.

Kane bit his tongue of an insult. "That's not what I'm saying."

"Then what are you fucking saying?" He asked. "Is this what you want or what Eijiro and Deku want?" Kane's face fell. Katsuki let out a tsk as he shook his head. "First Deku takes Y/N, then Eijiro leaves and now Deku wants to take my fucking kid-"

"What? No. That's not what-" He stopped himself from shouting as he took a deep breath. He paused for a moment and then looked at his father. "Aunty Y/N and Uncle Izuku want me to-"

Katsuki interrupted him. "Fucking Deku." He scoffed. "Of course this was his idea. Should have...." He let out a deep sigh. "Should have never gotten with Eijiro."

Kane paused. A flicker of anger coming at him as he frowned. "I wouldn't exist."

"Huh?" His father asked, not catching on.

"If..." He decided to just say it. "If you had never been with dad, I would have never existed... would I?" He asked with furrowed eyebrows.

Katsuki took that in for a moment but sighed. He rubbed his eyes. "Kane, that does matter. You aren't going anywhere tomorrow and that's final."

Finally, Kane's patience snapped. "That's not fair!" He shouted.

"Kane, don't you dare fucking shout at me!" His father glared with a harsh look on his face, making Kane flinch. He tried steeling his nerves, reminding himself that he was older now. "I'm your father and you're going to listen to me."

"This is one day, one fucking day in this whole year that I can have for myself! Why can't you just let me have this!" He shouted as he pointed a finger at himself, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked at his father.

Katsuki rolled his eyes. "Oh don't be so fucking selfish, Kane! I've done everything for you, giving you anything you could ever want!"

"But you were never here! You never listen to me! You never spend time with me!" He shouted, feeling tears burn at his eyes that he never wanted there in the first place. He hated that every time he got angry like this he always felt like crying. "For once can't you just think about what I want!"

"I'm the Number Two fucking hero of Japan, Kane, I don't have time to be here holding your stupid fucking hand every time you feel like it." Katsuki snidely remarked.

Kane groaned. "I wish I could stay with dad and not you!" He shouted back at his father. "At least then I would be happier and-"

He didn't even get to finish his statement as his face flew to the side. He stumbled, quickly putting a hand to his cheek. His eyes were wide in shock at the slap he had just received. It was suffocatingly silent as he turned back to look at his father.

Kane suddenly was pulled up by his sweater, forced to face his father that looked down at him furiously. "You think I wanted to be stuck with an ungrateful brat like you? Fine. Have fun at Eijiro's and Deku's place but don't you ever think about taking a step back into this house while you're at it."

Kane had to blast a small spark out of his hands as his father finally let go of him and he stumbled back. Kane let out heavy breaths as he braced himself against the counter. He sniffed as he stood back up straight. He sniffed as he wiped his nose. He stared at his father, a splitting image of him but only older.

"Fine." Kane moved around the island table, moving to head to his room to go grab his things.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?!" Katsuki shouted after him.

"I'm grabbing my shit!" Kane shouted back.

"Like hell do you think you're doing that!" Katsuki grabbed him by the back of his sweater and out of instinct, Kane sent a punch Katsuki's way.

Katsuki ducked, years of experience over his son. In return he punched Kane in the same cheek as early sending the boy stumbling back against the wall. Kane let out a blast with his hands to stop himself from colliding with the full impact as he braced his hands on the wall.

Kane coughed before glaring back at the older blond. Katsuki chuckled with a grin on his face. "Can't even punch your old man?" He laughed. "Pathetic." He grasped Kane by the back of his sweater and started dragging him towards the front door. "I bought all that shit! You want to leave, fine! Go and pray to God that the Midoriyas give a shit about you enough to give you the same as their other kids. You think your precious dad loves you Kane? He's got a new wife and new kids to take care of. You aren't even his own blood but go and see what being ungrateful gets you."

"Pops! POPS LET GO OF ME!" Kane shouted but he was finally thrusted out of the apartment into the hallway and onto the tile flooring.

Katsuki slammed the door, leaving Kane outside.

Kane took a moment as he swallowed down hard. He didn't go to the door and beg, he didn't plead, he didn't even try crying for his father to take him back. He knew that Bakugou Katsuki would let him suffer to teach him a lesson.

So Kane pushed himself to his feet.

He turned and headed to the elevator.

He didn't think about the encounter that just happened. He opened his banking app and checked what he had. He had enough in there to get him a bus ride but did busses still work at this time? The sound of thunder rang through the air making Kane suck in a breath. An Uber?

No. That could be reversed by his dad before he got the actual Uber.

Kane entered the elevator. He leaned back against the back wall and looked up at the ceiling.

"Fuck." He sighed.

"Mom!" You heard three knocks. "Mom!" Another three knocks. "Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! I'm coming in! Mom! If dad's on top of you, tell him he's got five seconds to leave you or I'm tackling him off of you!" Three knocks. "MOM!"

Your husband groaned in his sleep as he held you in his arms. You opened your eyes tiredly, your room being dark. Suddenly the light from the hallway came into your room as your eldest son stepped inside your bedroom.

You squinted as you tried to make sure that was Toshinori but half the time you weren't even sure. You let out a yawn at being woken up. You nudged your husband. "Your son is awake."

He let out a grumble as he let go of you and turned to bury his face in a pillow. "He's not my son at this ungodly time of night."

"Mom." Toshinori walked over to your side of the bed, shirtless and in checkered pyjama pants.

You carefully pushed yourself up in bed. You rubbed your face with a scowl. "Toshinori, I swear, if you tell me that you're constipated-"

"What? No. My tummy is fine." He said sounding defensive. "Can Kane come over?"

"Huh?" You asked, your brain working slower than you wanted it to. "Toshinori, it's almost midnight. Why on earth would Kane be coming here?" You asked him.

Toshinori shrugged with a confused look. He fought back a yawn. "I don't know mom, but he said he'll be here in like ten minutes."

You let out a sigh as you moved to pull your blankets off of you and slip on your slippers. "Who's dropping him?" You asked as you moved to your closet.

Toshinori shrugged again. "I don't know."

You didn't switch on the lights as you grabbed your silk dark emerald dressing gown and tied the belt around your waist. You walked back outside, seeing your son still standing there like a clueless piece of broccoli. "Did he call you or text you?"

"Text."

You opened your mouth to speak but then your husband's phone started vibrating, lighting up at his bed side table. He let out a low groan, having come back home not even two hours ago from a long shift and just wanting to sleep.

He grabbed the phone answered the call and slapped it to his ear all while keeping his eyes closed. "Deku speaking." It was silent for a moment before he let out a hum. "Let him through please." He answered. It took another moment. "What do you mean should you drive him to our house?... He's by himself?... Hm, please do. Thanks Matsuo-san." Your husband ended the call and let out a loud yawn as he pushed himself up and out of bed. "Kane is at the estate security." He stated.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you entered the closet again, grabbing your husband's sweatpants. "Is he by himself? Katsuki didn't drop him?"

Your husband shook his head. "No, he didn't." He accepted the sweatpants from you. He clumsily put on his sweatpants.

Toshinori looked just as confused as you did. "That doesn't make sense. Kane can't drive, nor does he have a car." He reminded the both of you. "How did he get here?"

Izuku let out a low grumble as he put on his slippers. Clearly your large husband was in a bad mood due to his lack of sleep. He walked over to the wall, going to the security panel in your room. He put in the pin. "As long as once he gets here, I get to sleep."

You moved outside of your room, moving to the grab out the futon. However, Toshinori, now being taller than you, grabbed it from the top shelf for you. You gave him a glare, making him give you a grin. You shook your head as you grabbed a comforter and pillow and shuffled into his room. "Are you guys gonna need the futon?" You asked even though you already grabbed it. You threw it onto Toshinori's bed for the time being.

Izuku rubbed his eyes with his fingers. "Can't they just sleep on the same bed?"

Toshinori scrunched up his face. "What? No. That's weird. Kane always wants to sleep on the futon anyways."

"You're sleeping on the futon, Toshi." You told him as you unrolled the mat first next to the bed before grabbing the futon from him.

"What!? Why me?" He defended as he motioned to himself. "This is my room."

Izuku scratched the side of his head. "I'm still confused as to why they can't just share the same bed." He said, being too lazy to think with his head properly.

"Because that's gay." Surprising you was Hero who appeared behind Izuku.

You turned to your third son. Izuku raised an eyebrow wondering where he had come from and how he didn't sense him. "Hero, why on earth are you awake?"

"I heard commotion and I wanted to see what it was about." He told you all honestly with a shrug. "And Toshinori," Your ten year old son looked to his eldest brother. "If you sleep in the same bed as Kane, I'm telling Satomi that you're gay."

"I'm not gay!" Your son defended.

"Excuse me?!" You turned to Hero shocked. He shrugged, not seeing the big deal about it. You turned to your husband to see what he thought about what Hero just said.

Izuku tilted his head confused. "Where did you get this from?" He asked the younger boy.

Hero shrugged. "Everyone knows dad." He turned back to Toshinori. "It's okay if you are, at least that way I get to comfort Satomi when she's crying over you. I get to hug her and get my face squished into-"

"Midoriya Hero!" You shouted before he said something inappropriate.

"I will 100% full cowling your ass if you say that again." Toshinori glared. "And if it isn't me, it'll be Kane."

Hero put his hands up in defense. "I'm just saying, your girlfriend is thicker than a snickerdoodle."

Your face fell at the comparison, but Toshinori couldn't even be mad as he let out a snort. You sent him a glare which quickly took the smile off his face. "You, finish making the futon!" You motioned down to the already half made bed. "And you!" You pointed to Hero. "Stop calling people gay and get your butt to bed."

"But mom! If I hear something gay, I'll say gay."

Toshinori shook his head. "I really regret introducing the Boondocks to you." He muttered.

"I'm extremely confused right now." Izuku stated with a scratch to the side of his head.

Downstairs the doorbell rang. You sighed as you massaged your temples. Times like these made you wonder why you had five sons. "I'll get it." You said as you left the room, motioning for Hero to get back to bed.

Izuku followed you, the both of you heading downstairs into the dark lower level of your house. You sighed as you shuffled to the entrance hallway. You opened the door.

Standing at your door step, out of the rain, was Kane. He was drenched from head to toe from the rain, his blond hair falling on his forehead. His cheek was inflamed with the beginning of a bruise as he looked up at you with a weak smile. "Good Evening Aunty Y/N and Uncle Izuku. Sorry to bother you." He let out lowly.

Your eyes widened at the state he was in. "Izuku-"

"On it." Immediately your husband went into rescue mode as he went speeding off somewhere in the house.

"Kane, what happened to you?" You asked worriedly as you ushered him inside. "Come, lets get you out of those wet clothes. Jesus, you're soaked head to toe." You let out worriedly as you quickly closed the door behind him before running to grab a blanket from the couch.

You quickly ushered him towards the downstairs bathroom to change just as Izuku came down the stairs with a set of Toshinori's clothes.

Toshinori followed after him. "I'm confused why-" Toshinori paused as he saw his best friend in such a state. "Dude, what the hell happened to you?"

Kane didn't say anything but Izuku handed him the clothes which he nodded his head, thankful for. You looked up at Toshinori, "Go and increase the temperature in your room for a few minutes so that its warm when he gets there." You instructed your eldest. You ushered Kane into the bathroom, leaving him be.

You looked to your husband who looked at you just as concerned. You quickly moved to the kitchen, putting on the kettle as well as grabbing some soup you had leftover and warming it.

Toshinori was back in a flash of light, walking into the kitchen. Your husband put a thick blanket that he also came down with in the kitchen next to a stool for the island table. He looked to Toshinori, folding his arms over his chest. "Toshinori, did he say anything to you?"

His eldest son shook his head. "No, he didn't say a word. Last I spoke to him was three hours ago when he said he'd be over by ten tomorrow." He reported honestly.

Izuku looked at you with a worried expression. "Did Eijiro tell you anything?"

You shook your head. "Not at all. Can you shoot him a text and ask him if he's awake? If so, tell him to stay awake for the next thirty minutes. We need to talk to him." You notified Izuku.

Your husband nodded his head as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Toshinori moved to help you set out dinner and a warm cup of tea for Kane.

Said blond teenage boy walked out of the bathroom in sweatpants and a hoodie. He never really liked the cold so he was glad that despite it not being that cold in temperature (but he was freezing) you got him a hoodie.

You immediately went over to him, motioning for him to sit down at the table. You set down the steaming cup of thick soup as Toshinori was pouring hot water into a mug. Izuku took the blanket and moved towards Kane. Instinctively, Kane flinched as he turned to look at Izuku with wide eyes.

Your husband stopped in his tracks at the automatic response of Izuku trying to walk behind him. Your eyes widened, however your husband stayed calm. "I'm just giving you the blanket, Kane." He told the blond boy, his tone gentle.

Kane eased. "Sorry." He muttered as he turned to look down at the vegetable soup with beef. Izuku managed to put the blanket over Kane's shoulders, keeping him extra warm. His stomach was growling. He hadn't managed to eat anything between making dinner and getting thrown out of the apartment.

"Kane." He turned to look up at you. Your concerned expression baring into his soul. "What happened?" You asked him softly.

The blond teenager didn't answer immediately as he looked down at the soup. "I'm sorry for causing trouble, Aunty Y/N and Uncle Izuku." He apologised.

Izuku shook his head. "You're not causing us any trouble, Kane." He told him honestly.

Toshinori hummed with a nod of his head. "Kane." Toshinori walked over to stand next to Kane, putting a hand to his shoulder. He looked at his friend with genuine concern. "What happened? Why are you here? Why were you wet? What happened to your cheek?"

Kane looked between you, your son and Izuku. His face was emotionless as he stared back at the soup. "Pops kicked me out." He let out quietly.

Your eyes widened in shock as you brought a hand to cover your mouth. You looked up at your husband who blinked twice before looking down at you.

Kane let out a soft scoff. "I... I told him that I was going to spend my birthday here with you guys and dad and Satomi." He began to tell what happened. "Then he got mad like he always does. We fought a bit and he kicked me out." He moved around the soup in his bowl with his spoon. He took in a deep breath but looked back up at you and your husband. "I promise I won't be any trouble Aunty Y/N and Uncle Izuku. If you don't mind, I'll just stay the night and I'll be out of your hair in the morning and-"

"Kane..." You spoke softly as you reached forward and carefully took his hand in yours. "Are you okay?" You asked him genuinely.

Kane didn't move. He didn't breathe. The words, 'I'm fine' were stuck in his throat. He wasn't fine. He wasn't okay. He couldn't breathe.

He looked down at the hand that you were holding. He was shaking. He blinked and tears burned at his eyes. For the first time in a long time, Kane's expression changed from something other than a small smile or nothing at all. His face broke as pain was evident on his face.

"I'm so tired." He let out softly. He gasped as he tried to take in a breath. "I'm so so tired. It's not my fault he cheated. It's not my fault that dad wanted a divorce. It's not my fault he started drinking. It's not my fault that I never want to be at home. Why can't he just- why can't- Why?" Kane sobbed as he dropped his head.

Toshinori quickly pulled him into a hug, Kane sobbing. Toshinori's eyes widened in shock that his best friend was crying. Kane never cried. He hadn't seen Kane cry since the age of seven. Yet here he was.

"Why can't I ever have a family? Why can't I have a mom or dad that actually gives a shit about me?! Why me?!" He sobbed, shaking in Toshinori's arms.

Toshinori looked to you, not knowing what to do. You looked to Izuku who had a hard expression on his face.

You didn't need to be able to read minds to know what he was thinking.

After calming Kane down, you distracted him with soup and tea and he went upstairs to Toshinori's room and he was out like a light. The poor thing passed out the moment his head touched the pillow. Toshinori told you both that he'd watch out for him as he slept on the futon.

With the both of them gone, you picked up the phone and called Eijiro.

"Eijiro, please. Get up. You don't have to-"

"But I do." He told you honestly, his forehead down on the ground as he was on his knees before you and your husband, in a deep bow. "Thank you for what you did for him." He spoke sincerely. Satomi was right next to him but holding her little two year old sister who was trying to get down onto her own two feet.

Izuku crouched down to the large Kirishima. "Eijiro, it's no problem at all. You would have done the same thing for our kid." He assured him as he put a hand on Eijiro's shoulder.

"But still." Eijiro kept his head down and Izuku knew the last thing the big redhead wanted was for his daughter to see the pain in his expression. "I'm sorry for all the trouble my ex husband has caused you."

You gave him a gentle smile. "Eijiro, this is no one but Katsuki's fault." You looked to Satomi with a smile. "Sweetheart, did you manage to grab clothes for your brother?"

Satomi set down Reika on the ground, the little two year old kept her hands on her older sister but was happy to be down on the ground. Satomi nodded her head. "I did Aunty Y/N, but he stopped sleeping over a year ago so I don't know if he'll still fit." She told you as she held a backpack.

Izuku helped Eijiro up onto his feet right as Toshinori came down the stairs, a hand on the railing. You turned to look up at your eldest son. "Kane?"

"Still dead asleep." He reported with a sigh. Kane had been asleep since yesterday and it was already nearly ten o'clock. It was unlike him to sleep past eight in the morning. He turned to look at Satomi. He smiled, his shoulders lowering. He moved over to her. "Hey."

"Hi." She smiled up at him as he wrapped an arm around her. "I've got some clothes for him but I don't know if they'll still fit."

He gave her a grateful smile. "Don't worry about that. If they don't he can always where something of mine." He told her. He placed a peck to her lips making her smile. He leaned his forehead against hers with a lovesick expression as blush went to her face. He leaned down to kiss her again but was stopped with a bulldozer of a man between them.

Eijiro sent Toshinori a scowl as he came between him and his girlfriend. His face said enough as is as he pushed his oldest daughter behind him. "If you touch my daughter again-"

"Daddy!" Satomi frowned up at her possessive father. She folded her arms underneath her chest as she pouted up at him. Her dyed red hair cascading down the side of her shoulder. "Leave Toshinori alone. He's my boyfriend!" She reasoned with him.

Eijiro turned to his daughter with a sad expression, like a kicked dog. "But princess-"

She glared up at him. "Daddy, we talked about this." She reminded him with a pointed look as she walked over to Toshinori and stood back in his arms. Toshinori looked up at Eijiro with a smug grin on his face. Eijiro glared with a low hum. "I'm sixteen. Toshinori is my boyfriend and I don't mind if he kisses me. He gives nice kisses." Toshinori gave one of those Midoriya smug looks that you had seen on your husband countless amounts of times, which made you giggle at the antics.

You looked up at your husband who had a smug look on his face. He put his hands on his hips. "That's my boy." He said lowly.

You rolled your eyes, knowing Izuku would support Toshinori's antics. "Toshi, go put the clothes for Kane in your room please." You instructed. You looked to Eijiro. "When is your wife coming?"

Eijiro looked at his watch with a hum. "In around thirty minutes, she went to go pick up the cake." He told you.

His two-year old daughter went waddling over to Izuku. Her big round ruby eyes looked up at him before she hugged his leg. Reika buried her face in Izuku's leg before giving him a smile. "Uncy Izy!" She giggled reaching her hands up to him.

You watched as your husband visibly softened up as he looked down at her. His green eyes were big and filled with awe as he picked her up. "Hello Reika." He picked her up, lifting her into his arms. She felt at his face and then rested her head on his shoulders. You saw him look like he wanted to melt. He turned to you with a look that told you everything. "Y/N-"

"NO." That took you by surprise as Toshinori looked at his father with a pointed look. "No more babies out of the two of you." He motioned to you and his father. He seemed deathly serious. "Don't touch my mom."

"Oh so when I do it, it's a problem." Eijiro started. "But when he does it, it's fine. You see Satomi," He motioned to Toshinori as he looked to his daughter. "What did I tell you about dating a mama's boy?" Izuku and Toshinori looked at Eijiro deeply offended.

You sighed. "No, it is a problem." You looked to Toshinori. "No one is having anymore kids." You told him. Eijiro let out a cough as he scratched the back of his neck. You rolled your eyes. "Besides Eijiro. I'm done popping out sprouts."

"But honey," Izuku whined as he looked down at Reika, patting her back as she sat in his arms. "What if we had a girl?"

"Izuku..."

"What if it's just a one out of six chance for us?"

"Izuku, you had a vasectomy."

"We both know that didn't work."

"EXCUSE ME!?" Toshinori let out wide eyed.

It took a while for you to control the situation but by then you managed to disperse everyone and put people to work. You put all your sprouts (minus Toshinori) as well as Satomi, on getting the house ready for Kane's birthday party with decorating. You had readied lunch just as Eijiro's wife came with their newborn strapped to her chest and cake in hand.

With all of you making sure everything was good, Toshinori shot you a text telling you that he was awake. Your eyes widened. "He's awake." You announced.

"Hold on!" Eijiro quickly came racing with a box that was in hand. He quickly put it in the gifts pile before scrambling to stand beside his wife and daughters. He took out his phone and both Izuku and him gave each other a thumbs up at the signature dad with the video recording pose.

Just then, you heard footsteps upstairs.

"Toshinori, I really just wanted to go pee and go back to sleep." Kane complained as he followed his best friend to the staircase that led downstairs.

Toshinori chuckled as he led him downstairs. "I know but there's something we've got to do first before you go back to sleep."

Kane sighed. He was in no mood to get out of bed. He felt drained. He just wanted to sleep. His face hurt and he was pretty sure his cheek was swollen a bit, but he was hungry, so if it led him downstairs, he'd have to follow Toshinori. "Fine, but can we at least get cereal? I'm hu-"

He paused as he looked at the kitchen. Standing in the kitchen was you and the rest of your family as well as his dad, his sister and his younger step-sisters. He paused as he looked to Toshinori confused as to what was going on.

Toshinori smiled with a broad blinding smile, dimples in his cheeks as he dragged Kane to come closer. "I know you said you didn't want to do anything for your birthday." He started as he took Kane by the hand and sat him down at the table. "But you deserve to have a day about you." He slipped on an orange and red party hat onto Kane's head.

Satomi nodded as she sat down a birthday cake not too far away from him that read. 'Happy 17th Birthday Kane!!!' She smiled as she stood at his other side. "Happy birthday, Oniichan."

"We know you don't like gifts," Eijiro started as he motioned to the pile of presents not too far away. "But you deserve to be spoiled at least once a year." He assured the blond teenager with a broad sharp smile. "I think you'll like mine the most, I only have one son to spoil after all."

"No, he'll like mine more." Asahi stated with a sure nod of his head, his arms folded. "I made it myself. It suits your quirk, so I think you'll love the gadget."

"There's no way he'll like anyone else's that's not mine." Toshinori said boldly with a grin. He motioned to his chest with his thumb. "I'm his best friend, I know him."

You giggled as you moved over to Kane with a gentle smile on your face. Kane looked up at you with wide crimson eyes that reminded you so much of when he was a baby. You set down in front of him a photo album. "I didn't think I'd ever give this to you soon but," You opened it to the first page and right there was a photo of you and Kane. The little boy was not a year old and he sat in your arms with a huge smile on his face, his hands reaching for your face as you smiled at him. "That is my favourite memory of you." You told him with a nod and a smile. "It's when you said your first word. I think you were just copying Toshinori but the day you called me 'mama' is one I won't forget."

You put your hands on his shoulders as you looked down at him with a loving expression, something so soft and warm it looked beautiful in his eyes.

You smiled. "Your family is right here to celebrate with you Kane. Right here." You motioned around the table. "And if you choose to, you are more than welcome to stay here with us or you can go to your dad's place. Wherever you decide, you'll always have a home. So what do you think, hm?"

Kane frowned as he dropped his head. He started to laugh.

That wasn't a reaction you expected.

"Welp." Asahi started. "He's officially lost it."

"Asahi." Izuku let out with a pointed look.

"I knew he wouldn't like it." Hero let out. "We should have gotten him a green cake."

"Why would he want a green cake? He's favourite colour is yellow." Satomi said with a raised eyebrow.

"Yellow?" Eijiro asked as he rubbed the back of his head. "I thought it was black."

"It's black and yellow." Toshinori stated. Hero started to sing the song but Toshinori quickly shoved him so that he would stop it. he sighed as he looked to his best friend. "Kane, I'm sorry. if you don't like it, we can-"

Surprising all of you, Kane was still laughing, outloud. He lifted his head and that's when you saw one of the first real smiles on his face in a long time. His face was split into a broad smile with tears falling from his eyes. His laughter turned to small giggles as he looked at everyone around him and then at the cake.

His smile was so beautiful, for a second you even wondered why the world could be so cruel as to have stolen it.

He nodded his head. "I love it." He whispered. "I really do. Thank you." He whispered out, his voice becoming overcome with emotion as he fought more tears that just kept streaming down. He nodded his head as he looked up at you. "Thank you."

You gave him a smile. "Happy birthday, Kane."

-Glitch1d

*soBS PRofuSELy*

[missbluesunflowersstuff]

Some batfamily headcanon

They all have auditory processing disorder at this point, except for Damian and Duke

Damian is the youngest and Bruce and the others protect him most and Duke uses armor plus his powers makes him a little difficult to get hurt

Dick is partially deaf in his left ear and Tim is partially deaf in his right ear

Bruce and Jason suffer from chronic pain

If Steph or Damian just stopped and went into some blank state for more than two minutes call the most responsible adult near immediately, they are having an anxiety attack (they just freeze and stare at nothing, this is their anxiety attack)

Tim has narcolepsy actually this is why he has the worst sleeping schedule of them all

(Tim's narcolepsy may be undiagnosed, diagnosed but his parents hid the result, Tim refuses to take his medication because he believes he can "handle" it, it's up to you)

Jason, Cass and Damian have PTSD

(all of them have it actually, but these three have the worst attacks)

Dick emergency contact is Donna Troy

and it doesn't matter what the batfamily do or say, Dick is always puts Donna as his emergency contact

Damian emergency contact is Maya Ducard

Damian had a lot of nightmares in him early years, the family takes turns to take care of it

Jason and Damian have intrusive thoughts (hurt the others and hurt themselves, Jason villain era was basically 'I let my intrusive thoughts win' ) - today Damian handled it better than Jason did in the past (Jason I love you, but I will never forgive you for what you did to Mia Dearden)

Bruce created a lot of personas for his work and because of it Dick created the "hamburger theory"

If he accepts the hamburger and eats it with both hands it's Batman; if he starts eating his hamburger with fork and knife it's Bruce Wayne; if he's holding the burger with a napkin and smile it's Brucie; but if he rejected the hamburger just run, it's not safe near him in that moment

Dick made this theory when he still was a Robin and this is some 'don't tell dad' information between all of the kids

They usually share information with Cass in audio to help her understand, Babs still helps her with how to read but she prefers to use emojis or audio messages

Cass may or may not respond to their audio, but she will view it

Bruce and the others have no clue about Dick real health status because the only person who has legal rights to it is Donna and she doesn't share with them

One time Tim tried to steal Damian medical records to put in their data, he found out that Maya already did that and now she is the only person in the world legally allowed to have that information

Both Dick and Damian don't regret their decision because they really trust in their sisters more than the bats

(and yes, Bruce feels breyated because of this)

14!Damian is still a little afraid of sleeping, because he doesn't know what kind of dream he might have (he doesn't have nightmares like he used to, but the anxiety is still there)

Duke and Damian usually hang out more than the others; one time Steph asks why in the common channel and Duke only answers "you know that me and him are basically immortals, right? When everyone leaves, we'll still be here" (Duke is immortal because of his powers and Damian... Do you really think his family would allow him die?)

No one knows exactly the kind of shit Damian was submitted in the league and as Tim falls in get his medical records they'll never knows

The same applicants for Cass trying, what exactly Cain did with her is something she'll never tell

Jason actually has amnesia from his league days or some kinda of weird and very selective amnesia, everything just looks like a blur to him

Jason believes that he was hypnotized to forget everything or some weird magic stuff. But on some nights, in the silence of his room, Jason still seems like a fat baby lying near him, he wonders who is the baby and who they are now...

Some days, because of his chronic pain, Bruce uses a cane to walk around the house, but only inside

[spamgyu]

SVT VU - Orange Peel Theory // Drabble

orange peel theory is making it's rounds on local tiktok and twitter. this is my humorous take on how the VOCAL UNIT discuss/deal with the orange peel theory with their significant others.

[hhu] [pu - coming soon]

JEONGHAN

"thank you." she grinned up at him as he placed a plate of oranges in front of her. she had been nose deep in her laptop, trying to complete her last email of the week when he unsolicitedly placed the snack in front of her.

much like all other times he had done when she was far too busy with work to remember to eat.

jeonghan placed a kiss atop her head as she happily munched away on the snack, a sly smile slowly growing on his lips as she grabbed another slice.

"would YOU peel oranges for me?" jeonghan crossed his arms over his chest.

"yes?" his girlfriend was taken back by the sudden hostility.

all while she was preoccupied with her daily zoom meetings and endless emails, jeonghan had brain rotted away on his phone – stumbling upon videos of girls testing their men .... with oranges.

he didn't understand why this was up for debate, knowing he would peel millions of oranges if it meant making his girlfriend's day all the better.

but he also wanted to have fun; setting up his own phone away from her sight as he captured the video just for him to laugh at.

he always did enjoy messing with her.

JOSHUA

joshua sighed for the third time since they had sat on the couch.

which was only about 5 minutes ago.

he glanced over at her to see that she had yet to take notice of the sound he had made, this time letting out a much more dramatic sigh.

giggling, she finally had taken the hint; taking her eyes off the television and looking over at him. "yes, honey, can i help you?"

"everyone else's girlfriends are asking for oranges..." he pouted. "peeled."

joshua wasn't much to keep up with trends, let alone be chronically online the same way his members were. she didn't think he would be well aware of the current debate taking over social media – and frankly, she didn't care for it.

it was just an orange.

"did you want me to ask if you would peel an orange for me?" she asked with raised brows.

"duh..." he nodded. during today's practice, he had overheard seungcheol and mingyu exchange stories of how their significant others had tested them with the theory – the rest of the boys soon joining in. everyone else seemed to have their own share of stories... but him.

"i– it's hypothetical though. it's more of if you're willing to peel–" she watched as he pouted once again. "would you peel an orange for me?"

joshua grinned, digging into his hoodie's front pocket to pull out two oranges, a banana, and an apple.

"apple?"

"i'll use my teeth."

"no!" she cried, grabbing the fruit from him.

JIHOON

"have you guys heard of the orange peel theory?" soonyoung asked, shoveling a spoonful of rice into his mouth.

she and jihoon shook their heads at their unsolicited guest who somehow managed to make himself a little too comfortable in their shared apartment; claiming that before she came along, he was jihoon's babygirl.

she didn't care to fight soonyoung over it; jihoon did enough of that himself.

"isn't that a gym?" jihoon quipped.

"that's orange theory, babe." y/n corrected, grabbing another shrimp from the middle of the table.

soonyoung always came over unannounced, but never empty handed – arriving today with seafood boil for all three of them to share.

"ah..." he nodded, taking the shrimp from y/n's plate – peeling it for her.

she was shit at peeling her own shrimp and jihoon was more than happy to make sure she didn't ruin her perfectly manicured nails.

soonyoung rolled his eyes at the couple who never stayed up to date with the latest internet trends. "sickening." he mumbled.

peeling shrimp was far more romantic than peeling oranges, anyways. but if anyone were to ask jihoon, he'd skin anything she asked him to.

including their unannounced guest.

SEOKMIN

he didn't exactly fail her humorous attempts to test him on the orange peel theory.

but he didn't pass either.

in his defense, she had asked him in the middle of the night – waking him from his slumber to ask if he would peel an orange for her, only to reply "tomorrow."

and he knew she wasn't mad. there was no reason to.

it was a silly tiktok she had seen while she scrolled next to her boyfriend who was deep asleep – practically shaking their walls with his loud snores.

but seokmin felt guilty after he had read the groupchat he had shared with his members, each of them sharing how their significant others had managed to bring up the hot debate topic circulating social media.

if he had known....

"babe... why is our fridge full of peeled oranges?" she laughed. she had originally gone into the kitchen to grab a drink only to be distracted by the lack of bottled waters.... and an abundance of orange filled tupperwares.

"i'm sorry."

glancing over her boyfriend who stood at the doorway of their kitchen, she let out another laugh – walking over to pull him into a hug. "did you peel all those?"

he nodded into her shoulder, making her giggle.

"i didn't take it personally."

"i did." he pulled away, bringing his fingers up to her face. "and now i smell like an orange."

SEUNGKWAN

"look what i brought!" he sang as he kicked off his sneakers, shaking the bag in his hand.

seungkwan had paid his family a visit, coming back from the tiny island just south of the mainland with various treats he enjoyed growing up.

including a bag of tangerines.

"ooooh!" she clapped, following him into the kitchen – digging into the bag of his mom's homecooking. "these are going to be so good. can you–"

before she could even finish her sentence, he had placed a peeled orange on top of one of the containers; a large smile on his face.

"thank you?" she reached for the fruit hesitantly; wary of the strange smile on his face.

"i'd peel oranges for you."

popping a slice in her mouth. "i know... thanks."

"any mundane thing, i'd do."

she nodded, still quite confused with his actions. "i know."

"just getting that out there." he clicked his tongue.

"okay... weirdo." y/n chewed.

seunkwan frowned at her reaction.

"i take it back." he snatched the fruit from her hand.

"hey!"

@thegirlwhoimagined @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @f4iryjjosh @akeminy @yonabutnotyuna @tacosandbitch @vanillacheol @aaniag @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter @xbaekcult @alwaysalmostthere @ashkuuuu @morkswatermelonnnn @isabellah29 @lottogyu @bubbly-moon @lllucere

(for some reason it's not allowing me to tag some who wanted to be added to the perm tag list ... cries... pls check ur settings so i can for future posts)

[inconspicious-random-thoughts]

Edit a bit because I forgot a small part.

So I have a small minor theory. Most is already fan based. So look at his picture. Vox looked near mortified at the reveal. To me, it appears more of embarrassment of past actions of admitting feelings to someone who didn't return them suddenly revealed to a new audience in modern day.

Some fans already believed Vox has a strong one sided crush on Alastor which partly fuel his rivery.

Vox died a few decades after Alastor, Alastor was probably very well established in Hell when Vox landed. Both being media themed demons, Vox more then likely became inspired by Alastor and was his biggest fan, also crushing on him. Vox wanted to make himself worthy to catch Alastor eyes and so, he pursued and ascended to become an overlord.

Eventually he did, they were not exactly on equal ground, but close enough. They both appear at the Overlord meetings. May have some brief interactions. Alastor probably still jabbed at Vox early on, simply because Alastor dislike modern technology. The jabbing not necessarily vicious but still making fun of Vox, nonetheless, but Vox took it in stride and probably retorted his own witty comebacks. Which I assume Alastor appreciates because its entertaining even if its mildly so. But it made the meetings not a complete bore. Vox thrilled because Alastor did notice him and seem to enjoy (entertained) by his company, even causing the Radio demon to laugh.

Finally, Vox took the courage and asked Alastor out. Asexual Alastor misinterpreted it as a business proposition. Romantic interpretations are not his first impressions in thought when presented. The answer would still be no but probably with A LOT less mocking. Alastor seem to just simply say no when relations is presented to him. For example, Angel Dust making comments and Alastor does a quick laugh and say no. Nothing more. I imagine he answers similar to nearly every encounter of this type. He a gentleman after all, he not going to ridicule someone for having feelings for Alastor that Alastor is not interested in returning.

So when Vox, most likely after an Overlord meeting, asked Alastor out. (We should get together and...) Alastor mocked Vox hard to the point of ridicule. Why would lone wolf radio demon want to team up with a sub par media demon? I assumed Vox already partner with Valentino at this point (he ask me to join his team, imply Vox already had a team at this point. Velvette may not been around at the time, she is the youngest). I think Alastor would hate Valentino and everything he stands for. Even if Alastor was interested in more power which he isn't, he doesn't care about being an overlord-he just want to be entertained, he would HATE working and being in the same proximity of Valentino. Alastor was probably a little merciless on his decline.

Of course, Alastor said it in a way that Vox interpate that it still personal level not a business one. This whole conversation was missinuperted by both of them. Vox was beyond humiliated. Truly starting a rivery to prove Alastor he is better. That Alastor is wrong, Vox media is superior, that Vox himself is superior and trying to turn the tables as he recover from his embarrassment. What worse, despite it all, Vox still craves Alastor attention, to be respected and perhaps thought of fondly. Which infuriates Vox more that he simply can't hate him like he wants to but still admires Alastor.

Side bit, I think Vox and Valentino do have a small thing going. (He also seemed a bit excited thinking Angel quit, and annoyed to see him around). Both of them enjoy each other company but their hearts not in it. (I also think Vox is also a bit of a victim to Valentino poison", that would be super interesting!) But I think a small part of Vox holds a secret grudge against Valentino. He thinks Valentino is part of the problem why Alastor rejected him. Because Alastor during his ridicule decline of his invitation mention Vox was with Valentino and Alastor wanted no part of that. Alastor strolled off, leaving a stammering speechless Vox, to taken aback to clarify Valentino was just a business partner. I only mention this because, Vox seem to have a comfortable relationship with Valentino. They have a bit of history (hinted by the photo of the two together and Vox having a crt tv head) to gain enough trust, know each other to know what makes them tick and desires. But Vox also seem put off and near reluctant to have to calm down his "boy toy" (as Velvette put it). Tolerating enough to remain levelhead, but clearly tired of Valentino tantum shit.

[lgbtlunaverse]

What kind of saber is baxia anyway?

I love my bloodthirsty princess of a cursed blade, and in my heart of hearts i am nothing but a sword nerd, so i've been extremely fascinated by Baxia and how we know frustratingly little about what she actually looks like!

I mean, look at bichen, right?

Bichen in the donghua:

Bichen in the drama:

They're clearly not exactly the same. The scabbards are different, and the guards have a different shape. But these are recognizably different iterations on one theme, right? Thin jian with a white grip silver guard, light blue tassel and silver mounting accents on the scabbard.

Now this is baxia in the donghua:

And baxia in the drama:

????????

THAT'S A COMPLTELY DIFFERENT WEAPON

it doesn't stop there either, the audio drama is kind enough to give us ANOTHER COMPLETELY DIFFERENT BAXIA

pretty! But how is that he same sword??

And when we go back to the novel, we get very little information on her appearance other than the fact that her blade is tinted red with all the blood she's absorbed. Which none of these designs incorporate.

This is not a dig on the designs itself, they're all quite gorgeous in their own right and i'm going to spend a while discussing all of them! Because isn't it fascinating how, since we know little about novel baxia beyond "saber" all of these designs ended up so different? What kinds of sabers are these, anyway?

So, a chinese aber, aka a "dao" (刀) just means a sword that has only one cutting side. As opposed to a jian, which has two.

You can see how that leaves a LOT of room for variaton.

I've actually seen some people get confused because Huaisang's saber in the untsmed is thin and quite straight, making it superficially resemble the jian more than drama!baxia, but it is still clearly a saber!

See? only one cutting blade!

This, to me looks a lot like a tang dynasty hengdao

credit to this blog for providing his image and being a great source for all this going forward.

TANGENT: during all this I found out the english wikipedia page for dao is WRONG! Ths is what they about the tang hengdao!

So that sounds like the hengdao was called that during the sui dynasty, but then, after that, started being called a peidao, right?

WRONG

I LOOKED AT THE SOURCE THEY USED AND IT SAYS THIS:

IT WAS CALLED THE PEIDOU UNTIL THE SUI DYNASTY, AT WHICH POINT IT WAS CALLED A HENGDAO. Which would carry over to the Tang dynasty. This was the source wikipedia linked! and it says something else than they say it does!

Anyone know how to edit a wikipedia article?

ANYWAY

BACK TO BAXIA

Since we're already at the drama, let's look at drama baxia: She's also straight! the general term for straight-backed saber is Zhibeidao, but that's a modern collector's term, and doesn't really say anything about which historical kind of saber baxia could be based on. Another meta i found on the drama nie sabers already went on some detail here.

I'm gonna expand on that a little: The kinds of historical straight-backed sabers we see resemble the hengdao a lot more than they do baxia. They don't go to their point as harsly as she does (she's basically a cleaver!) and they're all way skinnier.

No, my personal theory is that instead of being based on any kind of historical sword, drama!baxia is based on a Nandao.

I mean, come on, look at it!

Baxia!

The Nandao... isn't actually a historical sword. It was invented for Wushu forms. There's a really fascinating article about its conception, but that's why the swords in the images look a little thin and flimsy. Wushu swords are very flexible and light, they're dance props, not weapons to fight with. There are actual steel versions of Nandao, but they're recreations of the prop, not the other way around.

So That's one way in which Baxia differes from the Nandao: she's actually a real weapon. The other is that, as you can see above, the nandao has an S-shaped guard. Baxia doesn't. She's also much more elaborately decorated, of course. Because she's a princess.

Now: audio drama baxia!

This is much easier. with that flare at the tip?

Oh baby that's a niuweidao, all the way!

There are more sabers with that kind of curved handle, but the broad tip is really charcteristic of the niuweidao. The Niuweidao is also incredibly poplar in modern media, often portrayed as a historical sword, but it originated i nthe 19th century! And it was actually never used by the military!

That's right, the Niuweidao was pretty much exclusively a civilian weapon! That makes its use here anachronistic, but so is the nandao, and considering that the origin story of the Nie is that they use Dao intead of Jian because their ancestors were butchers, portraying them with a weapon historically reserved for rebels and common people instead of the imperial military is actually very on theme!

Finally, Donghua/Manhua baxia. These two designs are so similar I'm going to treat them as one and the same for now.

Unlike both previous baxias, The long handle makes it clear this baxia is a two-handed weapon, though Nie Mingjue is absolutely strong enough to wield her with one hand anyway. Normal rules don't count for cultivators.

Now, this is where things get tricky, because there are a lot of words for long two-handed sabers. And a lot of them are interchangable! This youtube video about the zhanmadao, one of the possible sabers this baxia could be based on, goes a little into just how confusing this can get. This kind of blade WAS actually in military use for many centuries, making it the most historically accurate of all the baxias. But because of that it also has several names and all of those names can also refer to different kinds of blades depending on what century we're in.

So here's our options: i'm going to dismiss the wodao and miandao, because these were explicitly based on japanese sword design, and as we can see manhua baxia has that very broad tip, so that won't work

(Example of a wodao. According to my sources Miaodao is really just the modern common term for the wodao, and the changdao, and certain kinds of zhanmadao... do you see how quickly this gets confusing?)

Next option: Zhanmadao.

Zhanmadao stands for "horse chopping saber" so... yeah they were anti-cavalry weapons. meant to be able to cut the legs and/or necks of horses. That definitely sounds like a weapon Nie Mingjue would wield. But if you watched that youtube video i linked above, you'll know the standardized Qing dinasty Zhanmadao looked very different from earlier versions. It was inspired by the japanese odachi, and more resembles the miandao than its ealrier heftier counteprarts.

Earlier Ming dynasty Zhanmadao on the other hand were... basically polearms. the great ming military blog spot, another wonderful source, says these are essentially a kind of podao/pudao (朴刀) which looked like this

Now that blade looks a lot like baxia, but the handle is honestly too long. Donghua!baxia straddles the line between sword an polearm a little, but while zhanmadao have been used to refer to both long-handled swords and polerarms, this was undeniably a polearm, not a sword.

If you want to know what researching this was like, I found a picture of this blade on pinterest-- labeled as a "two-handed scimitar"-- and the comment section was filled with people arguing about whether this was a Pudao, Wudao, Zhanmadao, Dadao, Guandao, or a japanese Nagita.

So... that's how it was going. This has kept me up until 2 AM multiple times.

However! Thanks to this article on the great ming military blog I found out there have historically been pudao blades with shorter handles!

Specifically, Ming dynasty military writer Cheng Ziyi created a modified version of the pudao to work with the Dan Fao Fa Xuan technixues-- aka technqiues for a two-handed saber, which would alter heavily influence Miaodao swordmanship-- thereby, as the article points out, essentially merging the cleaver-polearm type Zhanmadao with the later two-handed japanese-inspired design.

This is the illustration for the Wu Bei Yao Lue (武備要略) a Ming dynasty military manual

This blade shape in the illustration doesn't match Baxia exactly, but since it's a lengthened Pudao-like blade and we've seen above that those can match Donghua Baxia's shape, i'm gonna say that calling Baxia a Zhanmadao with a two-handed grip isn't all that innacurate!

However, because all of these terms are so intertwined, there are a dozen other things you could call her that would be about equally correct.

To show that, here's a lightning round of other potential Baxia candidates:

Dadao (大刀)

Which are generally one-handed and too short. However!

Another youtube video i found of someone training with a Zhanmadao that resembles baxia a little also calls it a "shuangshoudai dao" (雙手带 刀) shuangshou means two-handed, and while 雙手带 seems to refer to a longer handled weapon, when looking for a shuangshou dao or shuangshou dadao (双手大刀) we find a lot more baxia-resembling blades like here and here

I also found that, while the cleaver-like Dadao is strictly a product of the 20th centuy, since dadao just means big sword or big knife, it has been used to refer to loads of different weapons! Some people could've called the zhanmadao and pudao "dadao" during the Ming dynasty as well.

Another potential baxia candidate that mandarin mansion classifies as similar to the later dadao (though longer, as seen in the illustration below) is the "Kuanren Piandao"

Which piqued my interest because this diagram classifying different tpye of Dao:

Claims that a Kuanrenbiandao (diferent spelling, same sword) is the same as a modern day Zhanmadao.

(So once again, all of these terms are interchangable)

Another opton Is the Chuanmeidao/Chuanweidao (船尾刀) below you can see a diagram, based on the Qing dynasty green standard army regulation, of blades all officially classified as types of "pudao"

The top middle is the Kuanren Piandao, and bottom left is the Chuanweidao.

Both of these have a lot of baxia-like qualities.

So there you go! live action baxia is based on a Nandao, audio drama baxia is based on a Niuweidao, and Manhua/donghua baxia is some kind of two-handed Zhanmadao/Pudao/Dadao depending on how you want to look at it.

I'm honestly surprised no one has made the creative decision to portray Baxia as a Jiuhuandao, aka 9 ringed broadsword yet.

I mean look at it! Incredibly imposing. Would make for a great Baxia imo. (@ upcoming mdzs manga and mobile game: take notes!)

[queerfables]

Why all the crowd scenes look the same, aka: Something is WRONG in Soho

I'm not even gonna tease and draw this out because it's so cool it doesn't need the fanfare. Ready?

Season 2 takes place over the course of 5 days. During that time, most of the passersby in Soho - maybe even all of them - stay exactly the same. It's the same people every day, wearing the exact same clothes, and they wander through the neighbourhood in paths that don't make any sense. You won't be able to unsee it. I can't believe it's taken us this long to realise.

Don't believe me? Rewatch the scene from 2x03, I Know Where I'm Going where Shax confronts Crowley outside the bookshop, appearing in a series of different guises. Pay attention to the people going past.

I've marked out five people you see on screen when Crowley first exits the bookshop at 39:37:

Numbers 1, 2 and 3 are following the path right. Number 4 follows the path left. Number 5 crosses the road.

Here the five people are again, at 40:19, when Crowley goes to return to the bookshop:

Number 5 is still visible in the distance, in the direction she walked in. This makes sense! But numbers 1, 2, 3 and 4 are rounding the same corner they just passed. It's as though 1, 2 and 3 all decided to turn and head back the way they came just 40 seconds ago, and number 4 has circled the block to join them.

This on its own would be super weird, but they're not the only people to do that in this scene. The man in the purple sweater from the first picture crosses the road, then appears back next to the bookshop, then starts walking back the way he came again.

Here's the part that made me absolutely certain, though. At 40:05, a man wearing an orange hoodie with blue sleeves walks past Crowley, who is heading towards the bookshop entrance.

The camera cuts to a view from behind Crowley, and a moment later, at 40:08...

He reappears in front of Crowley and walks past him again.

It's such a distinctive outfit, there's no mistaking it. They are absolutely fucking with the background characters and they are absolutely doing it on purpose.

Your turn. There are at least three other characters in this scene who pass by multiple times. Watch it again and try to spot them.

This scene is really chaotic and obvious, but the phenomena I'm talking about is much bigger than just one scene. Let's go back to the first thing I said: the background characters don't change. All our leads do. Maggie and Nina wear distinctive outfits, clearly demarcating each new day. Even Crowley and Aziraphale, who in season 1 were like cartoon characters with wardrobes full of identical clothing, vary their looks. Crowley changes his (very subtly) each day; Aziraphale is less rigid on timing, but he has a few different coats that he switches between. The background characters, on the other hand, wear the same outfits every single day. They walk by on the street but they never actually seem to have a destination. They sit in the coffee shop or pub and don't eat or drink anything, and nearly everyone leaves together exactly on closing time. It's eerie.

For reference's sake, here's a rough timeline of season 2, with pictures of Maggie and Nina's outfits to show the passing of time. I had to outsource this section because my post was too image heavy, lol. The main point I wanted to make is that five days go by.

Five days, and all the same faces keep showing up in the background, and almost none of them change their clothes. I'm not entirely sure what it means, but there's no way it's an accident. It might, in fact, be a game changer. To me this is proof positive that something is not as it seems. I've been a massive Clue skeptic, adamant that I'd only be convinced by the most unambiguous evidence, and honestly? This is enough to move the dials. It's too big for me to ignore. Whatever grand explanation of Good Omens we come up with has to account for this. I don't have it yet, but my current working theories are that Crowley and Aziraphale are under some seriously heavy surveillance, that time warping is involved, or that reality itself is not what it seems.

It would take a really long time for me to go through all of the background characters who turn up over and over but I do want to show you what I'm talking about. To wrap up, then, I'm going to pick out some memorable characters and walk you through a few of their appearances through the week. I highly recommend looking out for this yourself on your next rewatch and seeing how many other characters you can recognise.

Yellow Skirt

The first person I kept coming back to as being not quite right. You probably remember her from the first episode - she's the one who waves and walks past Maggie and Nina the night they're locked in together. Incidentally, she's also Person Number 3 in the scene with Shax.

Day 1 (2x01 - 36:20):

Day 2 (2x02 - 42:03)

Day 3 (2x03 - 06:36)

Day 5 (2x06 - 30:00)

Coolest Leather Jacket In The World

It's not so easy to recognise people wearing lots of nondescript dark colours, but I love his hair and his jacket, so he stood out to me. I think there might be a lot more people who are wearing fairly nondescript clothes who I just can't recognise from episode to episode.

Day 2 (2x02 - 16:44)

Day 4 (2x04 - 41:20)

Day 5 (2x06 - 29:20)

Dressed In Mustard

Ms Mustard shows up everywhere. If you want to see what I mean about their paths not making sense, pay attention when she comes on screen, because she'll often show up a few times in succession and walk very purposefully to nowhere in particular. The thing that she is doing, essentially, is behaving like an extra in a tv show. Which of course she is, but you're supposed to make that invisible by not having the same person go back and forth in the same scene, or changing up their outfit each in-universe day to give the sense time is passing. Not doing that is a really deliberate choice.

Day 1 (2x01 - 22:37)

Day 2 (2x02 - 42:03)

Day 3 (2x03 - 01:49)

Day 3 (2x03 - 37:07)

Day 5 (2x06 - 29:59)

Swishy Dress

This character shows up a lot in the first episode. I've struggled to find her in later episodes, though. None of the characters seem to follow the same patterns or show up to equal extents each day, which makes me think this isn't a straightforward time loop. I haven't actually cross referenced character appearances to in world times, though. Possibly this is a project for someone who's more across the time-related shenanigans than me.

Day 1 (2x01 - 22:43)

Day 3 (2x03 - 07:01)

Yellow Vest

I've only seen this guy a handful of times, always around the French restaurant. I wonder if there's significance to that.

Day 2 (2x02 - 41:06)

Day 4 (2x05 - 12:49)

Fuzzy Blue Coat

Another background character who shows up frequently. The blue doesn't stand out quite as much as the yellows and reds some characters wear, but it's very distinctive.

While we're getting a lot of shots of the street, it's worth noting that I'm pretty sure the vehicles we see are also just the same few cars repeating each day. A lot of them are in neutral silvers and monochrome, but there's a couple of blue cars, one red, and one black and white that I'm fairly sure I've seen over and over through the season.

Day 1 (2x01 - 22:45)

Day 2 (2x02 - 42:04)

Day 3 (2x03 - 02:00)

Day 5 (2x06 - 40:10)

Day 5 (2x06 - 48:56)

Day 5 (2x06 - 50:06)

One final note: Whatever this is, Nina's employee who you see in the background at the coffeeshop sometimes isn't affected by it. He's wearing different outfits each day. On the other hand, some of the other shopkeepers do seem affected. I'm fairly sure Mr Brown and Mrs Sandwich wear the same outfits a few different days, only changing because of Aziraphale at the ball.

And that's it! Thanks for reading and I hope your mind is blown as much as mine is.

EDIT:

Hey I don't mind anyone pointing out production reasons that this might be the case or disagreeing with my analysis (over-analysis, some might say 😉). Please be kind about it, though. I'm not ignorant of the practical limitations involved in film making, but some of these costumes were really distinctive in a way I thought might be intended to draw attention.

For those of you who do find this theory convincing, I feel I should mention that I was working under the assumption that this stuff would have taken a few days to film, even filming it all together. That would strongly suggest that the actors were deliberately costumed the exact same way over multiple days of shooting, which made me think it had to be purposeful. @coranax was kind enough to point out, though, that behind the scenes videos said the extras were filmed separately to the main actors because of Covid protocols. In that case, they could have done it in just one day and that weakens my confidence in its intentionality.

Finally, all of my points about the scene with Shax in 2x03 stand. That was not a case of accidental continuity errors, it was really elegantly choreographed to enhance the tension in the scene. I say that with confidence because the extras are doing exactly what Shax is doing: circling Crowley, appearing where he doesn't expect them, creating a whirlwind sense of being off balance and out of control. I think it's really cool and effective, whether there's a deeper meaning to it or not.

[koostarcandy]

remedy

summary: "i think, just think, if you stay here, just for a while, play with my hair or whatever, i may fall asleep, just saying."

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: jeon jungkook rotting my brain fluff

wc: 875 words (tiny baby)

a/n: lmao look who's back because she fell asleep on jungkook's live (like literally my phone was on my face) also for this story's sake, this took place in the dark of morning and not the dawn :] also, also, there's a spoiler for the pale horse by agatha christie in here :P happy 10 years everybody! here's to more ♡

-

"how was the book, my love?"

you trip over the soft rug placed infront of the bathroom door, startled that your boyfriend's still awake at 3:33 a.m. you figured he would fall asleep after watching spiderverse reels and coming up with tons of theories about the final movie of the trilogy. jungkook lies on your side of the bed, fluffy mop of dark hair covering his tired eyes. you take your time with your skincare routine, describing the agatha christie you've been reading for the past 2 and a half hours, knowing it was gonna be a long night anyway.

"it was thallium poisoning, koo, not witchcraft. i never knew your hair could fall out in clumps because of that." you gently massage the serum into your face, looking around from the mirror to jungkook's gaze on you, slight smile playing on his pierced lips.

"did you put this before heading to bed, koo?" he moves his head absentmindedly, eyes darting from the small bottle in your hand to your face back again. you take it as a yes, meticulously placing the bottle in its designated place. you all but rush to bed, sneaking under the covers to his side of the bed.

your beloved shifts from lying to his side to on his tummy, chin placed on his special neck pillow, cheeks getting squished from his hands holding up his head. you scoot closer to him, brushing the bangs away from his face. you finally catch the stars in his eyes, nose scrunching in delight at the impromptu head massage.

"what's on your mind, baby?" you mumble into his hair, when he finds his way to your chest, arms immediately wrapping around you tightly in the softest way possible. "dunno," you feel his shoulders go up and down when shrugs, "there's always something up there now, you know?" he practically buries his face in your neck, placing a chaste kiss here and there. his fingers trace their way all the way from your hipbone to your shoulder, fidgeting with the thin silver necklace holding the delicate pendant he had given you on your birthday.

"wanna sleep and at the same, i don't wanna," he pouts, moving away from you ever so slightly to look up at you. "and why is that?" you ask curiously, smiling at him shivering at the touch of your cold fingers at the back of his neck. jungkook gazes at your eyes boring into him like warm rays of sunshine after a sudden spring shower. your moon-like eyes turns into pretty crescents when the silence gets comfortable, your bodies blending into one for warmth, despite the sultry heat outside. jungkook flings his leg over you, practically intertwined with you like vines on a lamp-post. its like his mind has come to a standstill, in a good way. the million thoughts running in his head has suddenly ceased, all because of your firm yet tender hands on him, one playing with his hair absentmindedly and the other tracing hearts on the upper part of his tattoo sleeve.

jungkook knows, despite not answering your question, you see right through his silence. he has wondered and pondered, over countless nights and self made whiskey cocktails, what exactly plagues his mind to avoid him catching up on some shut eye. he is no stranger to insomnia, often finding himself with new hobbies to while away the time till he finally gets sleepy. he boxed, karaoke-d, cooked his way through it all, that is until, he found you.

his own personal remedy, in the form of the most emotive, sometimes amorous love. nights spent with you is new everyday, no matter the place or time. you both could be on the couch, tummies full and hearts content at 9:45 p.m and jungkook would find himself asleep within seconds, something he could rarely achieve by himself. your lingering touches are something he thought he could only dream of, often waking up to you rolled over to the other side of the bed, grumbling to himself about your adventurous sleeping habits, wondering why you could never stay in one place, knowing he's subject to your teases about the same everyday. he gently pulls you to him anyway, spooning you until he finds the warmth he was searching helplessly for so long in his dream-like state.

"i can only sleep well when you're here with me," he confesses, a whisper into the dark space you both fondly call home. you catch his doe eyes on you, the night lights from outside never failing to enhance the galaxies you wake up to and sleep to everyday. jungkook clasps the back of your shirt in his hand, a subtle sign that he's succumbing to sleep's heavy hold.

"i think, just think, if you, just for a while, play with my hair or whatever, i may fall asleep, just saying."

your hand immediately resumes it's precious job, chuckling slightly at his quiet request of a head massage. his eyelashes flutter when his eyelids betray his mind, wanting one last look at you before he sees you again. before you know it, he's snoring away to dreamland in your arms, where you trust you'll meet him soon.

-

taglist: @soobhyun ; @september-husband ; @snoozeagustd ; @cherishoshi ; @fragmentofyourlife ; @jjkeverlast ; @nlsonsprings ; @starlight-1010 ; @swga-ficrecs ; @zharoszn

[graves-simper]

What really happened in Room 302?

Yes, just like everyone else I am finally doing a small essay/analysis on TCOAAL.

This time I wanted to dive in something that wasn't a big part of the game, but has been on my mind since my first play through of the game and that is like the title states; What really happened in Room 302? Lets begin.

I wanted to start off by talking about the Lady in Room 302. Who is she?

We really don't know much. Her eye color isn't shown, she looks somewhat average but in terms of others opinions (ie; the Warden's and even Ashley) She is a very pretty woman. Even at a point Andrew says that she looks good. Take a look at some of the dialog below:

I mean, wasn't she?

After this very tasteful conversation these two love-birds have, Ashley heads up to commence the ritual to sacrifice the 2nd Warden, and of course Our Ashley pulls it off with no problems, and back downstairs she goes with full intentions of painting the wall with Lady 302's brains, but it appears someone beat her to the punch.

AND NOW I PRESENT WHERE I IMMEDIATELY BEGAN TO CALL CAP ON MR. DOORMAT EXTRAORDINAIRE AND HIS SILLY LITTLE LIES.

Your honor, this man is absolutely lying. The first thing that made me question everything about his story here is where she is lying dead. On the damn bed. Your honor, let's enhance this real quick.

That nail gun is a damn good several feet away from where Lady 302 lies dead on the bed. In fact it is in exactly the same position as when we left Andrew alone with her, and look at the sheer distance. These apartments clearly aren't huge but let me just be critical for a minute. Her mattress appears to be a single style mattress, so lets take in some measurements.

I can settle on the length being 75" or 6.25ft. So the apartment is about 12 feet wide. Not huge by any means, but to go from sitting down on a bed, even the edge, she would have to make quite the lunge while accounting for some random maniac being right next to you with a meat cleaver. I also do not think she would be the type to risk her life for a daring escape. Look at how absolutely bewildered she is the second Andrew rushes her.

That is NOT the face of someone who is absolutely down to fuck around and find out. She also had a chance to get help while also risking her life, when she is given the radio she could have screamed for help, and while yes she would've died, at this point I would say the risk factor was relatively similar.

Now that I have established my reasoning for why I don't think this lady tried to kill Andrew with a nailgun or even had the chance to, let's go over some of the reasons I think he DID choose to kill her.

No Witnesses.

This is a very boring theory but I have to bring it up no less. I think there is a good chance he just said fuck it, and killed her for the sake of not leaving evidence behind. She saw their faces, heard their names, and they even said they were her neighbor from upstairs. Leaving her behind could've ruined EVERYTHING for them after this point, and based on Ashley's sour reaction to her mere existence, I think he already knew damn well Ashley would want her dead too.

Make my Ashley happy.

This ties back to the point I made in No Witnesses. Ashley took her as a threat, and obviously Andrew noticed. She was not pleased after he called her "Pretty". I think once he was alone, he figured he would off her to show Ashley that he wasn't ogling her or wanting to do anything with her. In fact she meant so little to him, he butchered her right on her bed. To support this, the way Ashley reacts when she returns absolutely floors Andrew, he is calm about what happened but Ashley is still coming up with thoughts that he tried to fuck her, when in his mind, he was probably hoping she would be thrilled that he killed this awful, hell-bound, hussie. But instead she is still somehow mad despite her being now a corpse. He becomes to fed up that even though he did what she would've anyways, it is somehow not good enough for her. (I will dive deeper into this interaction below with another theory that relies heavily on this.)

The Hussie hit on him.

This one ties into Make my Ashley happy. There is a good chance this obviously sexually attractive woman tried seducing Andrew while they were alone. She had no problem doing it with the Warden's to get better treatment, and I have no doubt this was her go-to get out of trouble free card. This charming young man would surely fall for her good looks right? Right? There's two thought processes that would make this reasonable. 1. He was worried how Ashley would react if she walked in with her clearly flirting with him and how that would make her feel. 2. My personal favorite of these two, he is dedicated to Ashley and was offended by her advances and killed her in a show of devotion to her.

Now that we have the more sane theories out of the way, lets get to the GOOD STUFF.

Andrew's Fantasy.

This theory is more of a mental guess as to Andrew's relationship and views of Ashley. He has been clearly fed up with her more than once up to this point, having arguments, dealing with her shit, and all the trauma he just experienced from starving for weeks, isolation, and having to butcher and eat someone, and then murder a man to save her.

What if once Andrew had a moment alone with someone who was essentially his victim, he decided to truly see how he felt about something. I believe Andrew may have not seen Lady 302 as Ashley, but just for the hell of it, imagined that she was Ashley. Despite the different appearances, I'm sure he could overlook it in the state of mind he was in at this point, and decided how it would feel to finally kill "Ashley". The way he kills her just doesn't feel like he said fuck it and wanted the lady dead, she is laid out on the bed, there's no signs of a struggle either. Later in the game during one of the visions, there is the one where Andrew finally kills Ashley. When she accepts that he will kill her, he brings the cleaver to her throat similarly to how the throat of Lady 302 was cut. The similarities just feel so similar that I had to bring this up despite it being possibly far fetched but that's what makes these fun!

and now for my most absolutely far fetched theory yet.

Don't these two look similar?

This theory is much more far fetched but hear me out on this!

I know this may be a result of Nemlei's artstyle but these two have some stark similarities in my opinion. Both blonde, same eye color based on the greyscale of them, similar hair parting, and a similar face shape.

After all the trauma Andrew went through in the weeks locked in their apartment and then killing several people and eating one no doubt sent his brain to a bad place.

I think after all that hell he endured he may have simply had a breaking point and felt like he saw a ghost or just the stark similarities between Lady 302 and Nina just made something snap.

I want to back this up by making a point to the story telling in the game. Before they go and escape their apartment conveniently before the Room 302 incident, there is a dream about how Andrew and Ashley killed Nina. This could be just the flow of the story telling however, I feel like it was a lead up to what really happened in Room 302. It just feels too perfect to include that scene right before he kills someone who I am assuming is what Nina may have grown up to look like, AND then with this scene occurring once Ashley returns almost feels like a nail in the coffin of this theory.

Nina isn't brought up in the apartment, or once they're in the motel. Nina is brought up during a heated exchange in Room 302 right after Andrew might have felt as if he killed Nina once again, yet just like when they killed Nina, Ashley still somehow thinks that Andrew has a thing for a woman he helped kill, and this absolutely drives him off his fucking rocker.

This exchange floored Mr. Doormat so intensely he finally was ready to absolutely throttle the life out of her. Andrew was finally so fed up with being berated for doing things for Ashley's sake he just wanted it to be done and over with forever. Andrew once again found himself in the same place Ashley put him in all those years ago, but this time he knows he isn't as vulnerable as he was and uses it to his advantage, but after their little squabble, they leave together to bless our hearts with Chapter 2.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Perhaps this was as plain as the story made it out to be. There is a good chance that Andrew didn't want to leave a witness and said hell with it and butchered the woman in Room 302. But I'd like to believe that with all the hidden details Nemlei has scattered throughout this game that there is truth to one of these theories, hell maybe even a giant jumble of them all together is the true story of Room 302.

But with everything I presented today I hope you all perhaps are too questioning what really happened in Room 302 like I was.

I'd love to hear any theories you guys have regarding this or twists/opinions on the ones I presented here!

Thank you all for reading!

[lady-rose-moon]

I would love to see how you write Loki X shy reader. Like she’s obviously so into him and he just loves to watch her get all flustered

Meet me in the elevator || Avenger!Loki x Reader ||

↣ MASTERLIST

𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓒𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 3.7k

Since moving into Avengers Tower last year after being rescued from HYDRA, you’ve developed close friendships with the main Avengers, loving to spend most of your time around Wanda or Natasha. They all knew that you didn’t handle well in public settings, talking with new people - hell, it was difficult to just talk to them sometimes, never mind people you’d never met before. 

You were settled into a room on the twenty-fifth floor, alongside Thor. It stayed that way for a while before Thor returned from Asgard one day with Loki on his arm. For Loki’s credit, he looked as pleased to be there as the Avengers were to see him there. You, on the other hand, stayed very quiet through the argument that came next, taking moments to just admire the new addition with curiosity. Something inside you told you that you weren’t supposed to be intimidated by the highly intimidating God before you. 

“But shouldn’t he be sent to S.H.I.E.L.D? Or- maybe whoever we are supposed to send him to should he return,” Steve was asking, your mind bringing you unwillingly back to the present, your eyes straying away from the man who appeared to be the person at fault for New York 2012. 

“If he is handed over to them, they will waste no time in attempting to experiment on him and his power,” Thor answered, his eyes serious and focused on not just Steve but everyone in the room, “Father has ordered his imprisonment here within the tower where we will keep him subdued. Should you turn him away, I am to find alternative lodgings.” 

The Avengers took a moment, unspoken arguments crossing around the room before Tony relented, hanging his head and uttering the damning words, “fine, give him the room next to yours, Thor.” 

Your admiration stopped within a millisecond. The room next to Thor’s was exactly opposite yours! Slowly, you slid down the sofa until you were fully laid down and silently groaned to yourself. Of course, you’re shacked with a Thunder God and his Godly terrorist brother.  

Following Loki’s sudden appearance within the tower, you spent more time avoiding the 25th floor. You avoided it as if it were the plague, going so far as to fall asleep in the common room of the tower just so that you wouldn’t be on the same floor as Loki.  

The God didn’t look happy when Thor forced him down to meals every day, claiming that getting Loki into such a routine would be good for his mental health and would help his ‘healing’. You watched every day as Loki sat opposite you, emerald eyes downcast and his posture closed off, unwanting of any attention. Perhaps, you thought, he was like you these days? 

You didn’t stick around long enough to actually find out if your theory was correct, however, as once you were done eating, you excused yourself and quickly fled to the library on the 16th floor. 

The library was your safe space away from the ruckus of the Avengers and their mission discussions, the quiet of the library calmed a part of you that you never realised needed to be calmed. Since you had woken up in your cell within the HYDRA base with no memory of your life before, your social skills had been severely affected, only opening up after weeks of people trying to get you to open up. 

Finding the library after being rescued by the Avengers shortly after the Sokovia incident was a breath of fresh air. From the moment you stepped into the two-floor library, Friday had made sure to play classic music as soon as you entered, easing the stress within you as you scoured the shelves. Since then, you have been happy to visit the library to escape the Avengers and lately; Loki. 

The sun shone through the floor-length windows as it reached its peak for the day, the warmth enveloping you as you happily walked through the multiple shelves, your fingers absently brushing against the spines. Perhaps I should try to bring someone here, you thought, recalling speaking with Wanda about the library and smiling at the fascination on her face at the prospect of advancing her magic through books Thor had brought from Asgard. 

~~ 

The silence reigned in the tower during meal times for weeks after Loki’s arrival, it was a statement that everybody was uncomfortable with the God being around. Loki, for the most part, seemed as if he didn’t give a shit about their opinions about him. You’d begun to differentiate his movements from the others, seeing how he got up to get his Asgardian tea prepared exactly three minutes after Banner had poured his coffee and walked away. How Loki would reach for a sandwich shortly after Barton had grabbed six of them, handing three to Natasha to prevent poisoning. How, even though he looked unbothered, there was that subtle glint of loneliness. 

~~ 

It had been weeks since your magic had surfaced, weeks since you’d been able to delve into somebody’s mind. Wanda had taught all of the Avengers how to block themselves mentally against your powers so that not only you could have a better night's sleep but so they could as well.  

However, you did not expect to fall into Loki’s dreams.  

One moment you were in your own dreams, the next you were standing in a golden throne room. You hid behind a pillar to avoid being discovered, fearing that you’d been snatched by someone. 

“What do you want?” there was a voice ahead of you, your view obstructed by the pillar you were hiding behind but when you peeked past it, you saw Frigga, Thor’s mother and therefore Loki’s too. She had a soft frown on her lips, her head tilted slightly as she approached her son, her hand reaching up to caress the terrorist’s cheek. 

Your heart stuttered in shock at the discovery. You hadn’t imagined Loki would allow someone close to him but then again, she was his mother, it made sense in a way. 

“I…” Loki began and your heart stuttered again but it wasn’t shock, it was a feeling you’d never felt before. You’d never heard his voice before other than the scary videos you were shown when you joined the Avengers, discovering their past. He sounded British, yet he was Norse along with Thor, then again, Thor had a sort of Australian accent when you focused enough. 

“I want my brother back,” Loki admitted, his head hung, vulnerability radiating off his body language as he admitted the weakness to his mother. You watched as Frigga’s face swiftly changed into an understanding smile before pulling him in for a hug. Still, Loki continued, his voice coated with grief, “I’m alone there, Mother, I do not want to be alone.” 

“It was better than the punishment Odin had planned for you, Loki,” Frigga whispered, her eyes shining with tears, “infinitely so.” 

You took in a sharp breath and that was all it took for Loki’s sharp eyes to meet yours and the room disappeared, replaced with a bedroom that looked almost identical to yours in Avengers Tower.  

“What are you doing here?” Loki snapped, his eyes hardened and his guard back up. He studied every fraction of your face, looking for the malice he knew you’d have, looking for the blackmail to begin, looking for the taunting. Yet, he found nothing. 

Since his arrival, he had taken note of your presence, never once considering you’d be anything like the Witch or Vision. Yet here you stood, in his dreams. Loki grimaced as you stayed silent, his head tilting ever so slightly, mimicking Frigga’s previous actions. “Answer me,” he snapped after a few moments, annoyed by your ignorance. 

You trembled as you stared up into Loki’s eyes, your nerves taking control of your body and preventing you from speaking up. Your eyes scanned his face, taking in the wet tear tracks that slid down his face, shining in the light that was coming in from the open curtains. Then your eyes fell to Loki’s decorated tunic, noting the hints of gold woven into the threads and the green accents everywhere.  

“You’re staring, pet,” Loki purred, stepping closer to you, intrigue apparent in his features. He’d never seen someone take this much interest in his appearance before. Sure, he’d had wenches back in Asgard to quench his need but never had they admired him the way this girl was doing. It stirred something in Loki, a challenge.  

You stammered, attempting to find a way to plead your case before realising it was futile. You wouldn’t be able to find any way to explain this, not with your tongue being tied and your fears rising. So, instead of speaking, you snapped away from his dreams and sat upright in bed. 

Brushing a hand through your hair, you took a deep breath before retreating into your bathroom. Since it was the early hours of the morning, you’d abuse the silence of the tower and roam how you wanted. 

As you left the room, you were unaware of the emerald green eyes following you from the doorway of the room opposite your own.  

You seemed to run into Loki a lot more after accidentally stumbling into his dreams a month ago. Whenever you’d step into the library, your eyes would be drawn to the floor-length windows where Loki was lying on the sofa with a book in hand, lazily turning pages. He gave you no mind, he didn’t even acknowledge you were there yet you still felt his eyes on you constantly. 

He was in the gym when you were trying to get some training done. Dressed in just a simple tunic and pants, going up against Steve, he looked the epitome of the female gaze. His hair was pulled back in a bun and his tunic was slightly wet with sweat. You huffed, trying your best not to get distracted by the alluring God fighting against the supersoldier but damn you couldn’t help getting a few glances at that ass. Definitely Asgard’s ass, you thought to yourself with an amused grin.  

“Y/N!” Steve called from the ring, running over to the edge as you turned to stare at him, your eyes wandering over his shoulder to meet Loki’s heated gaze and your body warmed, alight with need and interest but physically unable to say anything. 

“Yeah Steve?” you spoke up quickly, your eyes quickly shifting to meet Steve’s again. 

“Spar with Loki, I need a break,” the soldier spoke. He said it so casually, as if he wasn’t condemning you to at least fifteen minutes of torture in the ring with the object of your desires. Then again, Steve seemed to be oblivious to all the sexual tension happening within the Avengers. He didn’t even know about Wanda and Vision until he saw them kissing in the breakfast room! 

You sighed and nodded, getting into the ring and facing Loki. The God’s lips quirked up into a half-smirk as he took you in, his eyes hungrily roving over your body. The tank top you wore barely hid the sports bra below it, your leggings clinging to your legs sparking an interest deep in his abdomen. You drove him mad. You hadn’t visited his dreams since that night but damn, you haunted them still! 

“Are you ready, darling?” Loki purred, his voice sinking deep into your bones as he flexed his muscles, grinning to himself when he watched your eyes wander down his form, “you’re staring, Y/N.” 

Your body jerked up straight, freezing with nerves as you were caught in the act before you shook your head and got into position. 

Sparring with Loki brought out that inner calm that you didn’t know you had. Your mind was always whirring with ‘what if’ scenarios, pulling you under the waves if you allowed yourself to think about it for too long. Inside the ring, mirroring Loki’s movements, keeping eye contact and ignoring the hammering of your heart, you felt more like yourself than you had for years.  

When Loki grabbed you and pushed you to the floor, arousal streaked through your body as you were held firmly beneath him, his emerald eyes searing into your own, your heart racing and your mind racing a mile a minute trying to find a way that this can be explained platonically. He was just fighting you, he didn’t want a real reaction, totally not!  

Loki, for the most part, kept his attraction to you a secret but as you became a true competitor for him in the ring, he licked his lips at the challenge and eagerly fought back. When he pinned you to the mat, he saw the spark of arousal in your eyes and his grin morphed into a smirk. “TKO, darling,” he whispered seductively, watching your eyes flutter before you seemed to come back to yourself, bring yourself to your feet and scurry away. 

From behind him, Loki heard a groan and he chuckled to himself. “Is there a problem, Agent Romanoff?” he asked with a pleased hint to his voice, rolling his head and groaning at the satisfying cracks that could be heard. 

“Whatever you’re doing to her, Loki, I suggest you stop,” Romanoff warned, her eyes aflame as she stared at the God of Mischief, “she’s a good asset.” 

Innocently, Loki flashed a smirk at Romanoff before striding out of the training room, his bag and towel following after him surrounded by a green glow. 

~~ 

After  that, no matter where you were; somehow Loki was too! 

Even if you’d checked that he was in his room before heading out anywhere, he just appeared and soured your day. Well – not really, but you acted like it did. In the library, the gym, the kitchens or even out in the city as you got very stir crazy. 

Now, you're back in your quarters and you get your first real chance to relax for a moment with Loki constantly following you around. After a rough day, your mind is going a mile a minute as you go through all the different ways he's interacted with you lately. Sure, he could just be friendly and interested in getting to know someone new, but the way he looked at you... the way his eyes locked onto yours... was there something more? You refused to believe it. Loki, the God of Mischief, could never be attracted to you. 

Now that you had a moment to think, your stomach growled and you sighed at the realisation that you'd need to step out of your room yet again to get food. You could order but the temptation to get pizza or McDonald's would be too strong. Clicking the lock of your door, you stepped out into the dark hallway and made haste to the kitchens three floors below. Only when the elevator doors dinged open, you were greeted with the heated green gaze of the one God you did not want to see right now. 

"Loki," you whispered in shock before calming your racing heart and stepping into the elevator, pressing the 16th floor button, "how convenient that you are here." 

He flashes that grin at you that always seems to make your heart skip a beat. Loki casually leans against the opposite wall of the elevator and gazes at you with those enchanting emerald eyes. "Hardly, I just needed food. I suspect you did too?" he asks with that slight smirk.  

"That's a very nice outfit you're wearing, darling," he adds. His smile shifts slightly at your blush, that blush that is totally just a natural response and not from him teasing you at all. 

You stammered as the elevator descended. Those three floors feeling as if they take an eternity to get past in order to get to the common area. It wasn't really a nice outfit you were wearing, in all honesty. Just simple green joggers and a black shirt. Something you'd simply thrown on to venture downstairs. You weren't aware that you were wearing Loki's favourite colours, didn't know that you were blatantly displaying your affections for him through your clothing.  

"Thank you," you murmured so you didn't seem rude, hugging your arms before you gazed up at him and the red that tinted your cheeks deepened when you saw that Loki had not once looked away from you, even if you'd turned your head to the ground. 

He stares at you, trying to hide a grin at your evident embarrassment. He likes seeing you blush, and your shy nature certainly makes it easy to do so. Loki decides that he will have a little fun with this. "Tell me, darling," he asks. "Do you happen to like the colour green?" he asks, keeping that smile on his face, just waiting to see your reaction. 

Oblivious to the double meaning to his words, you eagerly nodded and grabbed at your joggers, proudly displaying them to the God of Mischief.  

"Yeah," you gushed, a goofy grin on your lips that pulled at Loki's heart, your eyes full of innocent pride, "always has been a favourite, always will be." 

He raises an eyebrow at you, his smile growing slightly with that innocent pride you have for what you're wearing. Loki decides to play along with your innocence and go to the next step. 

 "Why, darling," he says, his voice full of mock surprise. "You're not trying to signal that you like me, are you?" 

Heat once again rushed to your cheeks at the suggestion. Why would he ask that? Where had that ever been a signal that you liked him? Unless... no- it couldn't be. You remembered a conversation from months ago, Thor had suggested that women who wore red would always be seen as representing him in a way with their colour. Did Loki hold that belief too? 

Loki watches the way you react with great interest, and is amused by that adorable blush of yours. 

"Oh, darling," he replies. "I simply love a woman who knows how to show off their affection for a man. It's the ultimate form of respect." 

His expression shifts slightly, and he takes a small step closer to you. "What, does this little outfit you're wearing mean that you think of me so much that you don't mind the chance that others might see as you trying to court me?" he asks in a playful tone. 

"I- I- I didn't mean to-" you stammered; your cheeks flushed bright red by now yet again - though you supposed they'd never stopped being so since entering the elevator-. Your pride for your outfit faded, replaced by nervousness and a little bit of arousal for the God before you. His gaze seared into your soul, laid you bare before him, helpless to even process the fact that the elevator had long since stopped, the emergency stop button being pressed by Loki minutes ago. 

"You didn't mean to?" the God asks, feigning innocence despite knowing exactly the effect he's having on you. He takes another small step closer, still keeping that charming grin on his face as he looks at you with those enchanting eyes.  

 His hand comes up to your throat, and he leans in closer, whispering in your ear. "Maybe you should come back to my room, darling," he says in a soft voice, as if that suggestion is the most natural thing in the world. 

Your eyes widened in shock, your body trembling as if processed his request. He said it so naturally! How could he say that so casually?! So many questions raced through your mind as you stared up at him, your lip trembling as you struggled to find words to portray the whirlwind in your mind. Suddenly you realised you were trapped in this elevator with Loki for who knows how long, and you were ultimately playing a game of cat and mouse with the God of Mischief.  

"I don't- I can't- we- we're partners, Loki, what will the others think?" you whispered, trying to hard to shy away from the handsome God before you. 

He grins at you, amused at the sudden confusion you're feeling. He leans in even closer, his warm breath on your ear as he slowly leaned in closer to you. "Who cares what the others think?" he whispers. "They don't matter. Only we matter here. Don't you want me, darling?" he asks, his voice husky and full of the most hypnotic desire.  

 Loki's breath catches in his throat as he looks at you, lost in your beauty. "Give in... we have both waited too long, have we not?" he whispers. 

Biting your lip, you tried one last time to shy away from his affections but your movement was prevented by a large hand encompassing your throat and pulling you closer to him and soft lips were pressed to your own. Shock rippled through your body as you took in this sudden action before your mind became quiet and you melted into the kiss. 

He holds you close, a passionate grip with one of his arms wrapped around you so that you can feel the warmth of his body and his muscles as your lips mingle with his. 

As he pulls back from the kiss, Loki is visibly panting. "I can feel your heartbeat, darling," he whispers. "You like my presence all the more." You can't deny it. Loki seems to make your heart jump even more now. 

"I have wanted..." you hesitated, shame filling your body at the realisation that Loki had at least been interested in you for a while and you'd be avoiding him. "Since you came here, I have been intrigued by you then... one day... it was feelings and then... I tried to hide it," you whispered with a soft laugh, shaking your head and avoiding his gaze. 

Loki wraps you in a warm embrace, running his hands over your hair. "Darling, you're so adorable. Why ever would you try and hide this from me?" he asks, looking directly into your eyes. "Let me show you just how interested I am in you." 

 Loki's eyes shift to something you hadn't expected: hunger. His eyes were always beautiful, but now they were filled with raw desire. And it was focused entirely on you. 

Food forgotten, you pressed the button for your floor and wrapped your arms around Loki's neck, awaiting the arrival of your floor four floors above you. 

@lokisgoodgirl @lokisninerealms @slpnbty2001 @jennyggggrrr @hahaha12123445 @ozymdias @holdmytesseract @itsybitchylittlewitchy @lovingchoices14 @xorpsbane @huntress-artemiss @muddyorbs @nerdy-fangirl-65 @lonadane @silverfire475 @chantsdemarins @iamsherlocked1479 @kittiowolf210 @just-someone11 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @loki-laufeyson-1054 @fictive-sl0th @coldnique @anukulee @eleniblue @asgards-princess-of-mischief

[secretwritingspot]

Conjugate The Ways

Pairing: OPLA Sanji x Reader

Rating/Content Warnings: R/18+ content but again no actually doing the do - I do actually write smut I swear but these first two are tame comparatively - sexual content, excessive dirty talking (and excessive bad French), maybe sexual harassment if you squint but it's not really creepy tho because she doesn't notice? It's hard to explain but basically just Sanji saying all the raunchy shit he thinks to reader in French so she doesn't understand so. Yeah whatever that counts as. Implied AFAB femme presenting reader but not too much, just a few lines here and there.

Summary: Sanji runs out of new ways to call reader pretty, so he comes up with a...new strategy. Approx. 1.3k words.

Disclaimer(s): I absolutely do not speak French (unless you count the one and a half years I took back in highschool, which I DEFINITELY don't 💀) and, ironically to the title, the conjugation is probably terribly off here, since it's a mix of Google translate and language AI chatbots. But I thought the concept was silly and hot and I would rather die than hand this off to someone who actually speaks French to proofread because shit gets NASTY. Also there's one line at the end implying reader is American but feel free to ignore that if you're not lmfao.

The day Sanji found out you were easily flustered was the best day of his life.

There was no one else on the crew to really appreciate his efforts, not in any interesting ways, at least. Nami’s exasperation and Zoro’s disdain were amusing in their way, but neither was the reaction he was looking for.

You, however- well, you were just a masterpiece. As soon as you'd joined the crew of the Going Merry, you were a bright little ray of sunshine lighting up the constant angst aboard the ship. You were truly pleasant to flirt with, too. You'd stumble over your words and mumble sheepish thanks at his compliments and go pink at his pet names. Not even a week into joining, the name “mon cœur” had stuck, because of how much the term of endearment made you blush.

He asked why that in particular got to you, and you confessed that something about it being in French made it seem more intimate coming from him, which he supposed made sense. He also made it a point to speak French to you more often, even if you had no idea what he was saying.

After a few weeks, though, he ran into the same problem he often ran into in English- there are only so many ways to say the same things twice.

Eventually, he'd run out of synonyms for beautiful, his compliments would grow stale and repetitive. Not that you minded, of course, angel that you were. But the hobby lost a bit of it's appeal. That was, until he figured out the loophole:

No one else aboard the Going Merry spoke French.

Unlike in English, if he ran out of new compliments and sweet flattery, he could just say exactly what he was thinking with the same soft, gentle lilt to his voice that he used when delivering one of his many declarations of love and you'd never know the difference.

He'd tested his theory a few times when you helped him prep in the kitchen and it worked like a charm, you receiving his declarations that “j'adorerais voir tes jambes écartées”, and “j'aimerais te faire mendier pour moi”, as if they were glowing performance reviews- which you probably thought they were, given that the only commonly understood part of either statement was “j’taime”.

It became easy to fall into the habit after that.

“Je veux t'ouvrir sur mon queue, mon cœur.”

“Hmm?”

You looked up at him like you always did, with those big doe eyes full of curiosity and fondness, and he almost felt bad.

Almost.

Instead, he brings a hand down to ruffle your hair gently with a lovesick smile on his face.

“Oh, nothing to worry your pretty head about. Just how gorgeous you are. Je t'emmènerais sous tes draps, comme une pute, et te ferais jouir encore et encore, ruiner ta petite chatte.”

Like always, a pretty pink flush bloomed high on your cheeks, the color somehow making you look more naive. He wondered how dark your blush would be if you knew what he was really saying.

“Y'know, if you ever want me to actually be able to respond to you, you're gonna have to teach me French.”

You tease lightly, and now it's his turn to blush, though for a much more incriminating reason.

“Sure, mon cœur. Someday."

You hum softly in response and he studies you in the moment’s silence, peaceful and calm and comfortable in a way silence could only be between two people as close as you. Pretty eyes with long lashes, soft skin, full lips. What a sight you were.

“Y'know, sometimes I can guess. Not much, but a few words here and there.”

His heart stops beating.

“…oh, can you?”

You look away shyly, an endearingly sheepish look of pride crossing your face.

“Well, y'know- words that sound similar in English. Universel and pour and en."

Sigh of relief, breath out. Respond before you look too suspicious.

“Well, it'll get a lot more complicated than that if you ever really want to learn.”

You pout at that, posture slumping a bit in disappointment as you switch on your intentional puppy dog eyes.

"C'mon, please Sanji? At least teach me a few words?" You bargain, batting your lashes up at him. "I promise not to completely butcher them."

He just rolls his eyes fondly, shaking his head and mumbling under his breath to himself.

"Mon cœur, je pourrais dire n'importe quoi que je veulent, et tu n'en devinerais rien."

He brushes a hand through his hair for a moment absently, sighing to himself. Damn your persuasiveness.

"...fine, love."

Your face lights up. Maybe this isn't the worst idea in the world.

"To start, I'm sure you want to know what your name means, hm?"

"I mean-" You huff slightly at his words, folding your arms across your chest in an endearingly flustered sort of defiance. "I already know what that means!"

He raises a brow teasingly and paces slowly to the wall, leaning up against it with crossed arms and a smirk. The sudden attitude amuses him.

"Oh, do you? Enlighten me then, mon cœur: what have I been calling you this whole time?"

Proving his point, you go silent for a moment, flushing sheepishly.

"I...get the gist of it is what I'm saying!"

He raises his eyebrows and opens his mouth in mock-surprise, clicking his tongue disapprovingly.

"Ah. You "get the gist", do you?"

You huff, annoyed at his teasing, and look away.

"Fine. I don't know what the stupid nickname means, Sanji. Happy? I swear, you're such a-"

"Ah ah ah- no. No, mon cœur, this...is a learning opportunity," he cuts you off, voice growing soft as he walks back to you, gently grabbing your arms to uncross them. He coaxes you back to a more relaxed state, rubbing your shoulders soothingly.

"No need to get upset, hey? I'm only teasing."

You roll your eyes but accept his apologetic soothing nonetheless. Yes, he's an ass sometimes, but he's yours.

"Besides, love-"

He leans in teasingly close and all of a sudden you find yourself boxed in against the wall, framed by a hand planted next to your head that he uses to lean in, tilting your chin to the side gently to whisper in your ear.

"French is the language of love, not something you "get the gist" of."

He leans back with a satisfied smirk and you must be blushing to your ears at this point, trying and failing to laugh it off with a nervous shake of your head.

"Yeah, yeah, fine. Got it. You can't "get the gist" of French."

"Glad we're in agreement, then," he grins, striding casually back to his seat as if nothing had just happened. He stops mid way for a moment, tossing over his shoulder-

"It means 'my heart'. Meaning-wise it's closer to 'sweetheart' or 'love', but literally translated...'my heart'."

He sits back down lazily and you swallow, trying to remember your words as your brain starts up again.

"Oh. Right, that- that makes sense."

You clear your throat awkwardly and pull out your compact mirror as discreetly as possible to check if you look as flushed as you are. It's not too bad, thankfully, but you have the feeling he knows anyway.

"To use it in a sentence: je vais te putain jusqu'à ce que tu supplies et que tu appelles mon nom en ce joli accent américain, mon cœur."

You can't help but smile at the soft, lilting voice he says the words in, the little nickname feeling even more special now that you understand it.

"What does the rest of the sentence mean?"

He just chuckles and shakes his head, though you're not quite sure what's so funny.

"I'll teach you later, sweetheart."

[daysofyellowroses]

sandwich

carmen berzatto x afab!reader | 7.9k | based on this wonderful request by @kpopgirlbtssvt (sincere apologies this took so long!) | 18+ minors dni | warnings: smut, mentions of abuse, shitty shitty behaviour, language

finally finally finally i am posting this! it was not intended to be so long but i couldn't bring myself to end it, then life and work got busy and long story short, here it is! i have more requests to get working on, but i have a week off from today so hopefully no more delays! 🌼💗🫶🏻

🐻

“I can do this, I can totally do this.”

You repeated the words to yourself over and over, looking at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. It was just a job interview, it wasn't like you were going into battle or something. Still, that thought didn't ease the knot in your stomach. Job interviews were always nerve-wracking, it was just the nature of them. You'd lost track of how many you'd been on, they all started to blur together. Some of the jobs weren't even really what you wanted, but you needed something new. Your notice was burning a hole in your pocket, just waiting to be handed in. 

You stepped back from the mirror, taking a deep breath. Your outfit looked professional, you felt. A white shirt and navy pants, simple but effective. You forced yourself to smile, to try and feel more relaxed. The world wouldn't end, you still had a job, technically, had a roof over your head. A new roof, a new life. Now you just needed a new job and it would all fall into place.

Heading into your bedroom, you checked your phone to see which interview it was, your calendar flooded with notices. The latest was a hostess job for the Bear, a newly opened restaurant. You'd been a little surprised to get a call for an interview, while you had worked in a restaurant before it was a couple of years ago and you'd worked there for less than a year. Still, an interview was an interview, and you wouldn't be too down if you didn't get it.

When you arrived at the restaurant, you wondered if you'd gone to the right address. In theory it looked like a restaurant, but there was still a whole lot of construction work going on. You wondered how soon the soon-to-be-open was exactly. Heading inside, you raised a brow at how much work was being done, an interview on a construction site would be a new experience for sure.

After a moment,  a blonde woman walked through one of the open doorways, picking her way across the floor to you. She seemed to be heavily pregnant, but it didn't stop her weaving through the room with ease.

“Hi, sorry to keep you waiting,” She smiled as she approached you. “I'm Natalie, one of the managers here. You must be my ten o'clock interview, come on in.”

She led you to a table that had been laid out how you imagined all the tables would eventually look, with its elegant wine glasses and luxurious napkins and cutlery. There were, you noticed, three chairs across the table from you, your heart beating a little faster. You didn't mind interviews but when there were three or four people talking to you at once it could be a little intense.

You gave her your details and placed your purse on the back of your chair, taking a deep breath.

“Great,” Natalie smiled, placing the copy of your resume that you had given her on the table. “I'm just waiting for-”

“I'm here,” A voice called from across the room. “Sorry I'm late.”

You looked over, finding a tall man in a dark suit walking over to the table. He looked about mid-40s, piercing blue,eyes, pretty attractive but not necessarily your type. Not that it mattered, you told yourself. Finding your boss attractive hadn't been great for you historically. 

The man introduced himself and you did the same, sitting up a little as he sat down beside Natalie.

“Are Carm and Sydney coming to this one?” Natalie asked Richie, quietly. “They said they would.”

“Said they'd try,” Richie replied, looking over to you with a polite smile. “But let's get started shall we?”

“Absolutely.” You nodded with a smile, taking a deep breath. 

“Well let's tell you a little bit about us,” Natalie smiled. “As you can see we're still in the renovation stage, but we're close to the end now. We were a sandwich shop before but now we're moving to a more high end operation, which we're all very excited about. It's a great team we have here, and we're looking forward to building on what we already have.”

“That sounds great,” You smiled, glancing down to the table for a moment to gather your thoughts before looking back up. “I'm used to working as part of a strong team, so that wouldn't be a problem.”

“Excellent,” Natalie nodded, looking at your resume for a moment before looking over to Richie. “Well Richie here is our front of house manager so I'll let him fill you in on what we would expect from you.”

Richie nodded, looking over to you and you felt your heart race a little. For good or bad you weren't sure, but you decided to roll with it.

“As Natalie said we're going to be a high end operation,” Richie began, his gaze burning into you. “What does that mean to you?”

You thought about it for a moment, adjusting the napkin in front of you before looking back at Richie. 

“To me it means excellent food, a comfortable and relaxed atmosphere, and a strong focus on customer service.”

Richie was quiet for a moment and you found yourself questioning your answer. 

“Good,” Richie nodded, sitting back a little. “Now..”

It was fifteen or so minutes later when the door to the restaurant opened. Richie and Natalie both glanced over and you paused what you were saying. After a moment they looked back at you and you kept going, a man about your age coming over to the table and sitting in the empty chair beside Natalie. He gave you a polite smile and you felt your heart race in a way you knew definitely wasn't good but in the best possible way. 

“Apologies for my brother's lateness,” Natalie sighed softly, gesturing to the man beside her. “This is Carmy, he's the head chef.”

He smiled as he held his hand out to you and it took you a second to remember your own name. You shook his had, trying to ignore the spark that shot through you.

The rest of the interview felt like a blur, before you knew it you were saying your goodbyes and heading out. You had no idea if you had actually done well or not, with every other interview you'd had some idea but you were honestly clueless with this one.

It was a couple of days later when you got a phone call. You had just gotten out of the shower when your phone rang, you could hear it from your bedroom and quickly threw a towel around yourself before heading into your bedroom. You didn't have time to check the ID before answering your phone, clutching your towel around yourself. 

“Hello?”

“Hi, sorry to call so early.”

You vaguely recognised the voice, running through possible options in your head before it dawned on you.

“Uh..no, no it's fine,” You nodded, sitting on the edge of your bed. “Don't worry.”

“Great,” Carmy replied. “I wanted to thank you for coming in the other day, we had a lot of interviews..”

You took a deep breath as you braced yourself for rejection. It wouldn't be the worst thing, but it still always felt a little deflating to be told you weren't good enough. 

“..and I wanted to let you know that we would love to have you on board, if you're still interested?”

Your heart flew into your mouth, your mind unable to process an answer for a moment.

“I..yes, yes I'm still interested,” You nodded, a smile breaking out on your face. “That's amazing, thank you so much.”

“My pleasure,” Carmy's voice sounded low in your ear and you found yourself clutching your towel tighter. “I know you have to work out your notice in your current job but whenever you're free to start, we'll be here.”

“Oh, great,” You murmured, cursing yourself for sounding so dazed. “I'll hand my notice in today, and..I'll keep you updated. Thank you so much.”

“Don't mention it, I'll talk to you soon okay?”

“Okay,” You nodded, saying your goodbyes before ending the call and sitting on your bed for a while longer to process what had happened. It was a weight off your shoulders, of course, but you still had a nervous excitement about it.

The two weeks you had to finish out seemed to pass by in an instant. On your last day you were given a card and flowers, someone brought in a cake, and you found yourself wondering if anyone would even remember you in a week's time.

Then, before you knew it, you were getting ready to start your first shift at the Bear. It was the opening night, and you weren't sure if the nerves would ever end. The evening was all a blur, you felt like you were on autopilot, watching your own body in action. Richie took the helm much to your relief, and you just followed his lead. By the time you were putting your jacket on and getting ready to go home, you weren't sure you hadn't dreamed the whole thing. 

The nerves really hit on your following shift. There wasn't the buzz of the opening night, the pressure that made you strangely calm. You spent a solid two hours getting ready, looking at yourself in the mirror for a ridiculously long time. Your dress felt too short, even with your dark tights. Your makeup felt like it was too much and not enough. Eventually you had to leave, and tried to push your insecurities aside before they drove you crazy.

You arrived at the restaurant just in time for the staff dinner, taking your seat and taking off your jacket. You felt too nervous to eat, even though the food looked incredible. Instead, you opted to take a sip of water, glancing up and finding Carmy looking at you. He looked away when you met his eyes and you slowly set your cup down, adjusting your dress under the table.

While you forced yourself to eat something, you looked over to Richie as he launched into a story, finding yourself relaxing slightly. You were sure you felt eyes on you, but when you glanced at Carmy he wasn't looking at you. After dinner, the nerves struck again as everyone got ready for the service. You hung back for a moment, taking a deep breath. 

“Hey, feeling okay?”

You looked up and swallowed a breath as you saw Carmy walking over to you.

“Uh..yeah, yeah I'm good,” You nodded, clearing your throat. “Just the tiniest bit nervous. It's been a minute since I was in a job like this..I hope last night wasn't just a fluke.”

“It wasn't,” Carmy smiled, raising a brow. “Don't worry. You were great, really great. You can do this, just overthink it, alright?”

“Alright,” You smiled, feeling the knot in your stomach loosen slightly. “I won't.”

Service actually went well, at least for a while. You put on a mask of confidence and found yourself feeling better about your abilities as the evening went on. Until, that is, you were in the kitchen explaining an order update for a table when Richie burst in with a face like thunder and your stomach dropped.

“Hey,” He looked over to you and you already wanted the ground to open up and swallow you. 

“Did you seat table nine?”

“I..yes, I did,” You nodded, wondering what exactly the problem was, nothing springing to mind. “Why? Should I..not have?”

Richie sighed and ran his hand over his face, while you felt like you were back in school about to be ripped apart by a teacher. 

“You seated them,” Richie nodded, resting his hands on his hips. “Despite the fact that table nine is reserved for seven thirty, did you just decide not to do your job?”

“I..I'm so sorry,” You insisted, holding your hands up.  “It was a mistake, I take complete responsibility for it, I'm so sorry.”

“You should be,” Richie sighed, shaking his head. “You made the mess, you clean it up. I can't fucking believe this.”

“I..” You stopped yourself as Richie held his hand up, trying to hold back your tears and cursing yourself for being so damn overly sensitive. 

“No, you just need to stop,” Richie muttered. “I gotta think.”

You closed your eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, looking over your shoulder as you felt a hand on your back.

“Don't worry,” Carmy murmured softly, meeting your eyes. “he's just a drama queen. You can do this, don't panic.”

You felt more eyes on you, some of the other chefs looking at you with surprise before they got back to work.

“Alright,” You nodded, taking a deep breath before looking back at Richie. 

“I'll handle it.”

You left the kitchen, holding your head up high and leaving the mask aside. 

After service was over, you slipped out to the back and sat on a low wall before pulling a back of cigarettes from your purse. A moment later you let out a long exhale and felt your body relax. 

“Mind if I bum one of those?”

“Of course,” You smiled, holding the packet out to Carmy as he walked towards you. “Go for it.”

“Thanks,” Carmy nodded, taking the pack. “Didn't have you pegged as a smoker. No offense.”

“None taken,” You smiled, wrapping your arm around yourself. “I don't smoke so much anymore, just after a tough day. Stress reliever.”

Carmy nodded as he lit up a cigarette, handing you back the packet. “I get you. But I should warn you this job will have you back smoking full time, nature of it and all.”

You nodded as you took a drag of your cigarette, watching Carmy sit down beside you. 

“Thanks for the heads up..and I'm sorry again for tonight.”

Carmy shook his head, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees.

“Don't apologize, honestly. It was an honest mistake, it all got resolved. Richie just needs to have a moment now and then. He'll apologize in a day or two.”

“Can't wait,” You laughed softly, flicking your cigarette by your feet. “I really thought he was gonna kill me at one point. If I'm still here in a month I'll be amazed.”

“You'll still be here,” Carmy nudged you gently. “If I have my way anyway. Don't let Richie get in your head. You're good at what you do, embrace it.”

“Are you a chef or a life coach?” You teased, smiling to yourself. “I just get a little too in my head sometimes, overthink things.”

“Well join the club,” Carmy laughed softly as he shook his head. “We're all guilty of that. You just gotta push past it, I guess.”

“Hm, has that ever worked for you?” You asked, looking over to Carmy.

“Honestly?” Carmy met your gaze, his cigarette between his lips and his eyes sincere. “Not even once.”

“Hm, I suspected as much,” You smiled, looking away. “easier said than done, right?”

“Right,” Carmy murmured. “So maybe we just tell each other when we're overthinking. Get the thoughts out.”

“That sounds great, in theory,” You raised a brow, looking up for a moment with a smile. “Guess we'll just have to see how it goes in practice.”

A month later, you had started to settle into your role more, getting more comfortable and confident. There were a couple of slip ups here and there, but you always seemed to have Carmy in your corner. You got better at handling problems, and gradually started to build a bond with Richie, who you grew a soft spot for.

One particular Saturday, there was a plan to go for drinks after work. You hadn't been planning to go, but figured it would be nice to spend some time with everyone outside of work, in your normal clothes and without only being able to speak in short bursts.

Well, you and Carmy did tend to spend some time after work having a cigarette, sometimes it was twenty minutes, sometimes it was an hour. At first you would just talk about work, about the night's service, any annoying customers, but gradually you started to learn more. You found that you enjoyed just listening to him talk, when he would tell you little snippets of his life. It was never too much, too detailed, but enough for you to piece together a more clear picture of his life. You shared some details of your life, never anything too much, but enough that he seemed interested, asking you more and more questions. 

After service that Saturday, you felt like you could sleep for a week but everyone else's excitement gave you a buzz. You got changed in the bathroom, throwing on a pair of dark jeans and a simple red velvet top, stuffing your hostess dress into your bag. You felt more than ready for a drink, but there was one thing you had to do first.

“Didn't think you were coming out tonight.”

“For a drink or a smoke?” You asked, walking over to the wall and sitting beside Carmy. He was wearing jeans and a sweater but when you were so used to seeing him in his whites it made a difference. 

“Either,” Carmy handed you a pack of cigarettes. “Not complaining though.”

“Didn't think you would,” You smiled, plucking a cigarette from the pack. “I told Syd I'd head to the bar in a few, they're all gonna go on ahead. Richie said first round on him.”

“I'll believe that when I see it,” Carmy scoffed, shaking his head. “What's your poison?”

“Arsenic,” You replied, looking over to Carm with a grin. “Ask an old question and get an old answer.”

“Alright, fair,” Carmy nodded, a smile on his face. “if I was to give you a drink right now what would you have?”

“Right now?” You looked up for a moment, thinking about it. 

“Mm..probably like a whiskey sour.”

“You're such an old man,” Carm laughed as you rolled your eyes. “A whiskey sour?”

“It's a classic,” You lightly swatted his arm. “Don't knock it. We can't all be cool bros who drink fucking beer.”

“I never said I was having a beer,” Carmy raised a brow, holding his hand over his heart. “You're really gonna slap me with the bro label?”

“Yeah,” You nodded, taking a drag on your cigarette before looking over to Carm with a grin. “It's an old man's prerogative.”

You and Carm ended up arriving at the bar after everyone else had already finished half their first drinks. One of you had suggested walking to the bar, it didn't seem so far away at the time. On the way you'd stopped to get cigarettes, arguing over who was paying, Carmy beating you to the card machine by a split second.

The bar felt warm when you walked in, Carm's hand on your back as you removed your jacket not helping. He told you he'd order the drinks, disappearing before you could offer your card.

You joined the others, sitting down beside Richie and laughing as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and rested his head on yours. By the time Carmy came over with your drinks you were caught up in Syds's story, taking a moment before looking over to Carm and mouthing a ‘thank you’.

As the night went on, you weren't sure how many drinks you had actually had, between your trips to the bar more glasses were placed in front of you, everyone forgetting who they actually owed. In the latest bar you'd all ended up in, you leaned against Carmy's shoulder, his arm around yours.

“Oh shit,” You heard Richie exclaim, slowly dragging your gaze over to him. 

“They got karaoke!”

“Karaoke?” You grinned, looking up at Carmy. “Oh wait, you're probably too cool for that, huh bro?”

“Shut up,” Carmy rolled his eyes with a smile, lightly squeezing your shoulder. “We can't all get up and belt out Sinatra.”

“Hey,” You raised a brow. “My drinks may be old but my music taste is not. Get me the sight up sheet.”

The lights of the stage felt bright and hot on your already warm skin, but you felt a rush of adrenaline as everyone cheered and your eyes met Carm's. 

“Hey,” You smiled, giving a little wave and trying not to cringe at the sound of your voice in the microphone. “I'm gonna sing a song that I love, and hope I don't butcher it entirely.”

You laughed softly as the Bear crowd cheered, someone giving you a whistle. The alcohol-induced confidence took over you as the music started, and you decided to just embrace the moment as you held the microphone.

‘All the lights in Miami begin to gleam

Ruby, blue and green, neon too

Everything looks better from above my king

Like aquamarine, ocean's blue

Ah ah ah ah

Ah ah ah ah

Cacciatore

La da da da da

La da da da da

Limousines

Ah ah ah ah

Ah ah ah ah

Ciao amore

La da da da da

La da da da da

Soft ice cream’

Any lingering nerves you had disappeared when you looked over to your table and heard cheers, your eyes meeting Carmy's for a moment. His gaze was totally focused on you, your heart beating faster as you continued the song, feeling a little more confident as you kept your gaze on him.

‘Catch me if you can

Working on my tan

Salvatore

Dying by the hand

Of a foreign man

Happily

Calling out my name

In the summer rain

Ciao amore

Salvatore can wait

Now it's time to eat

Soft ice cream’

You felt like you were in a daze as the song ended, smiling when there was a round of applause and making your way back to the table. Richie squeezed your shoulder and went to get you a drink, which you knew would have you fully committing to a hangover but you didn't care.

“You were incredible,” Carmy whispered in your ear, low and warm. “I had no idea you could sing.”

“Really?” You grinned, turning your head and meeting his eyes. “Well I guess I'm just full of surprises.”

A couple of hours later, you found yourself trying not to fall asleep in the back of an Uber, your head on Carmy's shoulder. You were drunk, but not so much that you had lost all sense of yourself. Instead you felt pleasantly buzzed and sleepy, wanting to fall into your bed and stay there forever.

“We're here,” Carm gently squeezed your shoulder, dragging you from your drifting thoughts. “Let's go.”

You let him help you out of the car, your arm linked with his as he led you to the door of your building. It took a minute to remember the code to the door, but you got there in the end, laughing to yourself when it worked. 

“Now I just need to remember what number my apartment is,” You sighed as you pushed the button for the elevator, grinning as Carmy gave you a deadpan look. “Kidding, don't worry.”

When you reached your front door, you expected Carmy to give a polite excuse and leave, even though that was the last thing you wanted him to do. When he didn't, you tried not to look too pleased, holding the door open for him and taking a deep breath. 

“Where's your kitchen?” Carm asked, turning to you as you closed the door. “I'll get you some water.”

“Just through there,” You smiled, gesturing to the door on your left. “I'm gonna go change.”

You went into your bedroom, leaving the door open and flicking on the light. You peeled off your clothes and dropped them into/close enough to the laundry hamper before heading to the chest of drawers and pulling open a drawer. You rifled through until you found a pair of simple blue pajamas, pulling on the t-shirt then the shorts. 

When you turned around Carm was heading through the door, glancing around the room before placing the glass of water on your nightstand. He turned to look at you and you felt your heart leap from your chest.

“Stay,” You asked, or rather requested, feeling a little embarrassed by your firmness. “I mean..if you want, you can stay. It's pretty late.”

“Oh, uh..okay,” Carmy nodded, and you found yourself relaxing a little. “Sure. I can crash on the couch.”

“Don't be stupid,” You smiled, gesturing to your double, albeit a small double, bed. “It's alright, I don't bite.”

Carm looked concerned for a moment before he laughed and shook his head.

“Ah what the hell. It's one night.”

“Don't sound too offended to share my bed,” You teased, walking over to the nightstand and picking up the glass. “Not just anyone gets that privilege.”

“I'm flattered,” Carm laughed softly, rubbing his neck. “Just don't want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“You couldn't if you tried,” You insisted, gently touching his arm before sitting down on your bed. “Now hurry up, I'm exhausted.”

A couple of moments later, Carm was down to his shorts, and you tried not to stare. He turned out the light before you could hear him crossing the room. You slipped under the covers, your breath catching as you felt him get in beside you.

“Comfortable?” You asked, turning onto your side and resting your hand under your pillow. 

“Yeah,” Carmy nodded, laying on his back. You could just about make him out in the dark, the lingering scent of his cologne, cigarettes and beer feeling heady and desirable. “Thanks.”

“You're welcome,” You murmured softly, taking a breath. “tonight was really fun..I can't really remember the last time I had a night out.”

“Me too,” Carm sighed softly, the mattress dipping slightly as he turned to face you. “I'll pay for it tomorrow, I feel the hangover creeping over the horizon.”

“That's the downside to getting older,” You shrugged softly. “You start to feel hungover before you've even gone to sleep.”

“Well you would know,” Carm retorted. “You old, old man.”

You gasped and reached out to lightly swat his arm, smiling as he laughed.

“That is uncalled for. I'm old, not old old.”

“Is there a difference?” Carm asked, his voice dropping low as he nestled into the pillow.

“Not really,” You murmured softly, your hand resting on the gap in the mattress. “But I stand by my actions.”

“Never had you pegged as violent,” Carm murmured, his hand resting close to yours. “Learning so much about you.”

“Hey I can't give away all my secrets,” You smiled softly, moving your hand ever so slightly closer to his. “I like being a little mysterious.”

“I like that,” Carmy laughed softly, his hand moving to lay gently on top of yours. “But I like everything about you so..hardly a surprise.”

You were quiet for a moment, a tired smile forming on your face. 

“I like everything about you too,” You murmured softly, feeling like you could see Carm clearly even in the darkness. 

“Hardly a surprise.”

He let out a gentle laugh, his thumb gently stroking over your hand. You felt your heart fly into your mouth, like you were suddenly wide awake and able to see through the alcohol-induced haze.

“We should get some sleep.”

The words had your heart dropping back into your stomach, your mouth turning dry. 

“Uh..yeah, yeah we should,” You murmured, closing your eyes and trying not to feel so disappointed. “Sweet dreams.”

Before you knew it the mattress had dipped again, and his hand was gone from yours.

Carmy was already gone when you woke up the next morning, and you decided to try and put the memories of his hand on yours to rest. 

For the next week at work, you felt like you weren't really yourself. Maybe it was subconscious, but you found yourself avoiding Carmy where possible. You sat at the opposite end of the table to him at family dinner, you stopped going for a smoke after work, and only really interacted with him in a professional manner. You could see he was confused by the change, and you hoped he would understand. In time you'd be like you were, you just needed time for your feelings to dissolve.

The following Saturday, you felt like you were going through the motions at work, flicking the customer service switch on when you needed to. Any time you'd gone into the kitchen Carm had looked at you with a smile and you had forced yourself to look away, guilt eating away at you.

Then it happened. 

The worst possible situation you could find yourself in.

The front door had opened and you looked up from the reservations list to greet the latest visitors, your heart sinking as you saw who it was.

Your ex-boyfriend, someone you had very carefully avoided for months was walking towards you with a woman holding onto his arm and giggling. She looked beautiful, was probably a decent, kind person. You wondered how long it would be before she realized who exactly she was dating.

It took every ounce of self control you had to stay professional, to smile and greet the pair. The reservation was under her name, and you knew it was a purposely chosen move. He lived on the other side of town, there was no way he would just happen to come to the Bear if you didn't work there, you knew it.

After taking them to their table, you found Richie and told him you needed a moment, which he granted you. You went to the bathroom and locked yourself in a cubicle, leaning against the door. 

He was out there, you couldn't avoid him. You imagined Richie getting their drinks, finding them to be a charming, loved up couple. Because your ex was great at making people think that. He was charming and witty and romantic, on the surface. Until you were alone with him.

You made your way back out to the floor, trying to focus on work. When you had to go into the kitchen you felt overwhelmed by the heat, the smells, the voices coming from every direction. You closed your eyes and pinched the bridge of your nose, taking a deep breath. A moment later, you felt a hand on your back, your eyes opening and your heart calming as you met Carmy's gaze.

“Hey,” He smiled softly, raising a brow. “You good?”

“Yeah,” You nodded softly, wanting to touch his arm to ground yourself but forcing yourself not to. “I'm good.”

Back on the floor, you felt like you were in a daze. Any time you had to go to your ex's table it was like torture. He was perfectly polite, didn't give any indication he knew you, but you could feel his eyes burning into you.

After you took another small break to compose yourself, you left the bathroom and let out a gasp as you found your ex in the vestibule. You wanted to run to the door, go back to the floor. As you went to leave however, he grabbed your wrist, and you wanted to scream.

“Just gonna leave without saying hello properly?”

“Let me go,” You snapped, looking back at him and trying to pull your wrist free from his grasp. “Now.”

“What's the rush?” Your ex grinned, and you felt sick. “Let's have a little catch up. This where you been since you ran off?”

“I said let me go,” You repeated, gasping when your ex stepped forward and shoved you against the wall. He kept his hand on your wrist, his other hand resting on the wall by your head.

“Not so hasty hm?” Your ex smiled, tilting his head. “I think you owe me an explanation.”

“I don't owe you anything!” You snapped, trying to push him away and failing. “Get off me or I'll scream.”

“Oh try it,” Your ex laughed. “Your theatrics never worked before and they won't work now. “Now, maybe you want to tell me why you left? I never did get an explanation, did I?”

You opened your mouth to scream, the sound immediately muffled as your ex's hand clamped over your mouth, a furious look in his eyes.

“Don't you fucking dare,” He snapped, his hand pressing harder. “Nobody disrespect me, certainly not you. Look at you, you're pathetic.”

You felt tears welling up in your eyes, panic setting in. You knew what he was capable of, and you wouldn't be able to go back onto the floor if he lost control and left bruises.

The main door began to push open, your ex immediately stepping back from you while you tried to quickly compose yourself.  You felt a sense of relief when Richie walked in, your heart racing as you spotted Carmy walk in behind him.

“Everything okay?” Richie asked, looking over to you. “You were gone a while,” He looked over to your ex, skeptically, before looking back to you. “Just wanted to see if you were good to get back out.”

“Yes,” You nodded, taking a deep breath and avoiding meeting anyone's eyes. “Apologies, chef. I'll head back out.”

“She will in a second,” Your ex smiled, reaching out to grab your wrist, his fingers digging into your skin. “We're old friends, just catching up.”

“Well I have to go,” You murmured, trying to subtly free yourself and feeling fresh tears well up as your ex tightened his grip. “So..”

“Right,” Richie nodded, his eyes on your ex while you briefly met Carmy's gaze. “I'll escort you back to your table, sir.”

“Yeah, in a minute,” Your ex nodded, pulling you closer to him. “We just have some things to discuss.”

“Please don't do this,” You muttered, tears filling your vision, trying to pull your wrist free as your ex grabbed your arm firmly. 

“Hey,” You heard Carmy's voice and looked down at the ground, trying to compose yourself. “I need my staff to get back to work, and I need you to get the fuck out of my restaurant.”

“Fuck yes cousin,” Richie nodded. “He's out.”

“I don't think so,” Your ex laughed, squeezing your arm harder. “I'm a paying customer, show some respect.”

“Show some respect?” Carmy repeated, a harsh edge in his voice. “I'm giving you a chance to leave quietly, I suggest you take it.”

“Or what?” Your ex smirked, stepping closer to you. “I'll leave when I want. Like I said, we're catching up.”

“That's it,” Carmy sighed, stepping closer. “Get the fuck out of my restaurant right now before I have you forcibly removed.” 

You let out a gasp as you were pushed back against the wall, everything happening in a blur. You could hear Carm and Richie saying something as they grabbed your ex and pulled him off you. Richie hauled him outside before Carmy's hand was in yours, guiding you out into the restaurant and through the kitchen, the two of you finally ending up in his office.

“Sit down,” Carm gestured to the desk chair. “I'll go get you some water.”

“No,” You insisted, reaching out to touch his arm. “Please. Don't leave me alone.”

Carm was quiet for a moment before he nodded, stepping closer to you and wrapping his arms around you. You buried your face in his neck, clinging to him as you tried to stop your tears to no avail.

You weren't sure how much time passed, but before you knew it it was closing time. You assured Carm you were okay before you went to help Richie out front, giving him a nod as he gave you a concerned look. 

When it came time to leave, you clutched your keys tightly in your hand, making your way to your car and taking a deep breath. You felt like you couldn't breathe properly until you arrived back home and checked every room. Your ex didn't know where you lived, but it didn't stop you feeling a little paranoid.

After getting ready for bed, you decided to stay up a little longer, settling on the couch to watch a movie. While you were scrolling through Netflix your phone rang, and the brief panic that hit you subsided when you saw it was Carmy calling you.

“Hey,” You smiled softly as you answered, picking up one of the cushions and holding it against you. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, all good,” Carm replied, and you could swear you heard traffic in the background. “Could you let me into your building? I didn't want to buzz, just in case.”

“Oh,” You glanced to the door before slowly standing up. “Uh..yeah, yeah just give me a second.”

You set the cushion down and walked to the door, pushing the button to open the door.

“Come on up, I'll see you in a second.”

You ended the call, taking a step back from the door and clutching your phone. When there was a knock at your door you took a second before opening it.

“Hey, come in,” You stepped aside, giving a quick glance out to the hall before closing the door and turning to Carmy.

“Are you sure everything is okay?”

“Of course,” Carm nodded, rubbing his cheek. “I uh..I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I was going to offer you ride home but I thought I might be being too much and you would be uncomfortable which is fair then I couldn't stop thinking about you and I thought I should-”

You held up your hand with a smile, tilting your head slightly.

“I'm glad you're here. I probably would have ended up calling you anyway so..it's fine. I'm just trying to find a movie, I'm open to suggestions.”

An hour later, you were sitting on the couch with your head on Carm's shoulder, his arm around your waist. You were only half focused on the movie, too busy enjoying Carm's presence after isolating yourself for a week. Cuddling up to him wouldn't help you dissolve your feelings but you were willing to overlook that, given recent events.

“Damn,” Carm murmured softly, his hand gently stroking your waist. “I guess they'll have to take down the government after all.”

“What?” You raised a brow, looking over to him. 

“I knew you weren't paying attention,” Carmy laughed softly, looking at you with a grin. 

“Oh shut up,” You rolled your eyes playfully. “it's not my fault it can't hold my attention. Got other things on my mind.”

“Yeah,” Carm nodded, clearing his throat and looking up for a moment. “I uh..I wanted to ask, how are you feeling after..after tonight?”

You thought about it for a moment, looking over to the TV and letting out a soft sigh.

“I feel like it was some kind of surreal dream. I don't hear so much as a whisper for months, almost a year, then suddenly he's just there..but I really appreciate what you did,” You looked back to Carmy, gently touching his arm. “I hate that you had to get involved in my drama but..thank you.”

“Don't mention it,” Carm looked back to you. “I wasn't going to stand back and let it happen. You don't deserve to be treated like that. You deserve..I don't know, the universe.”

“The universe?” You repeated, smiling softly. “That's a lot to handle but..if I'm deserving of it I guess I'll learn to handle the responsibility.”

“That's my girl,” Carm smiled, and you felt a knot twist in your stomach at how much the words made your heart leap. “You deserve it and more.”

“Could you..could you not say that?” You murmured softly, taking a deep breath and feeling guilty when Carm immediately looked like he'd regretted everything he'd ever done. 

“It wasn't bad, I just..I want you to say those things but I also don't because it's just going to give me more feelings for you and I really can't even handle the ones I already have so..”

“You have feelings for me,” Carm murmured softly, and you weren't sure whether it was a question or a statement, looking away from him. “I..I had no idea. I mean, I didn't think you hated me but..you were so distant this week I thought I'd done something to you.”

“No, never,” You insisted, trying not to cry at how badly you felt you were handling the situation. “I just thought I could get rid of my feelings if I wasn't around you so much, that's all.”

“Why didn't you just tell me?” Carm asked softly, his hand on your waist feeling more prominent. “Am I so unapproachable? Oh god, am I unapproachable? That's it isn't it? You thought I would like flip out or something, and I swear I never would, not at you, ever.”

“I know,” You nodded, looking back at him. “I just..I didn't want to make things awkward. I'm not in high school, I don't want to act like I am. I may as well have gotten Syd to pass you a note from me, check the box if you like me kinda vibe.”

“Don't you want to know if I would have ticked the box?” Carm asked, his tone gentle. “Because I would have. Every time.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head and looking up. 

“Damn, guess I should have sent you the none then hm?”

“Well there's still time,” Carm smiled as you looked back at him. “Though I can't guarantee Syd wouldn't just chuck it in the trash. You know when you started she told me not to fall in love with you because the restaurant needs you more than I do?”

“Good thing you didn't then,” You smiled, leaning in a little closer and resting your hand on Carm's cheek. “I can stay.”

You leaned in and closed the gap between you, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He hesitated for a moment before kissing you back, surging forward.

Your arms wrapped around Carm's neck as he eased you onto your back, the kiss deepening. All the stress of the evening melted away as you felt Carm touch you carefully, smiling into the kiss as you reached for the hem of his white t-shirt and tugged it up. 

It didn't like long to have Carm completely stripped, a frown on his face as he looked at you.

“Well this isn't a fair trade.”

“No?” You smiled, picking at your pajama top. “ Well I'm not stopping you leveling the field.”

It took a little longer for you to be stripped, your breath catching in your throat as Carm took his time removing your pajamas, leaving a trail of kisses on your skin as he did. You felt exposed, laying on the couch in your deeply unsexy mismatched bra and panties, but in the most wonderful way. 

“Still not quite even,” You smiled softly, reaching out to gently stroke Carm's cheek and beaming when he leaned down to kiss you, his hand gripping your waist.

“You're right,” Carm murmured softly, pulling back and meeting your eyes. “It's not fair.”

He sat back, his hand slowly moving down to grip the waistband of your panties. You kept your eyes on him as he slowly peeled them down your thighs, stopping after a moment.

“Close enough.” He grinned,his hands moving to your thighs and lifting them up. Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched him move between your legs, closing your eyes as he slowly spread your legs, feeling the material of your panties rub against your leg.

“Oh god,” You breathed as you felt Carm lick a stripe along your already soaked folds, his hands gripping your thighs and holding you in place. His movements were achingly slow as he licked you, one of his hands slowly moving along your thigh.

It had been a long while since you'd felt so good, a wave slowly building in your stomach. Any urge to beg for more was dissolved as you felt Carm's finger gently sweep across your entrance, his tongue swirling your clit. You couldn't focus on anything, your hand moving to his curls as he eased his finger into your warm entrance, your eyes clenching shut as moans tumbled from your lips.

By the time he added a second finger you felt like you were ready to fall apart, his tongue moving slowly but precisely, exactly where you needed without having to tell him.

“Oh, fuck,” You moaned as you felt yourself get closer to the edge, your free hand clamping over your forehead. “Please..I..ohh my god..”

You felt your eyes roll back into your head, your breath catching in your throat as you came, feeling like you could see stars.

You wasted no time in pulling Carm up to you, tasting yourself on his lips and letting out a moan at the sensation. He pulled at your bra straps, tugging down your bra and rolling your nipple between his thumb and finger.

“Please,” You murmured against his lips, your forehead hot against his. “Fuck me, now, please..”

“Are you sure?” Carm asked, giving you another kiss as he moved his hand down between your legs, a moan escaping you as he touched your sensitive pussy. 

“We can go to your bed, or wait, or..”

“Carm,” You breathed, opening your eyes and looking at him. “Please..I can't wait. I'm on the pill, it's fine, just..please.”

He met your gaze, a look in his eyes you hadn't seen before that had you soaked even more instantly.

“Use your words,” He murmured softly, two fingers pushing back into you as you moaned. “What does my girl want?”

“Oh god,” You groaned, wanting to stay in the moment forever. “I want..I want you to fuck me, now.”

“Anything my girl wants,” Carm grinned, slowly easing his fingers out of you and replacing them with his thick cock, another moan escaping you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs hooked around his waist, wanting him as close as possible.

You felt like everything fell away around you as Carm moved slowly, getting you used to the feel of him, before he was pulling you up into his lap, his lips wrapping around your hard nipple as your nails dug into your shoulders, his hands on your waist encouraging you to set the pace. 

By the time the two of you were laying on the couch, catching your breath with your arms lazily draped around each other, you wondered when you'd last been so unbearably happy.

“I'll understand if you immediately run away when I say this,” You looked over to Carm with a smile. “But.

I love you.”

He looked over to you, a wide smile on his face as he moved closer, his arm wrapping firmly around your waist. 

“I love you too. Which is a shame, I guess. Gotta find a new hostess now.”

“Yeah, sucks to be you,” You grinned, moving your hand into Carm's hair. “Though before you fire me could you help me fulfill this little fantasy I have of fucking my boss at work?”

“I guess I could,” Carm grinned, leaning in to place a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Let's get in some more practice shall we?”

[seat-safety-switch]

Don't you hate it in science fiction when the protagonist knows exactly how something works, right down to the theory and components? That pulls me right out of the story. I don't know how a garage door opener works, you probably don't either, so I wouldn't spend four paragraphs explaining it to a hot alien chick I just met. I'd be too busy asking her if she has Craigslist on her phone.

I can absolutely understand why authors want to do this, though. When you're writing a novel, the blank page is terrifying. You fill it with what you know, and if you've been studying "cool spaceships," it turns out that will be top of mind for a little while until you discover a Wikipedia article about a new kind of gravity. The same thing happens at parties. If you ask me about the weather, the conversation will inevitably degenerate into a discussion of exactly when you need to start looking for oversized crankshaft bearings and what kinds of semi-truck batteries are the right size to steal for use in a car. It's detail you don't need, in other words, but that I have in large quantities.

What's the solution for this? Knowing nothing at all. Studies have shown that the less you know, the happier you are. Doing these studies made the scientists involved sadder, which is basically a peer-review if you ask me. The less you know about a subject, the more easily you can let the plot take over. For instance, I don't have a really solid idea of where on the map Egypt is, but if you asked me to throw together a novel about it, it would probably be a pretty good banger until the halfway mark where they find an old Jeep that doesn't run and the next two hundred pages are a regurgitation of the Haynes manual's wiring diagram section. Come to think of it, that would be an amazing book.

So in conclusion, try to know less tomorrow than you know today. Go out there and forget a whole bunch of stuff. Head to your local public library and rub your face on the books until the ideas come back out of your brain and embed themselves inside the pages, where they belong. And then get back home, grab your 1977 Royal Sahara typewriter, which is really a rebadged Triumph-Adler, and re-lube the strike hammer elbow to get rid of that weird little squeak in the spaceb – oh no, it's happening again. I gotta get to the library.