#maybe i should have some lines through the center to divide them

[dravidious]

You're quite the cool one

Got started on the tetris puzzle equipment system thing, it's currently able to display the available/unavailable spaces of equipment!

[yuujispinkhair]

I WANNA BE YOUR ENDGAME – Chapter 02

🏒❤️ A Hockey Romance feat. modern!Sukuna

Pairing: HockeyPlayer!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: College AU, Hockey AU, fluff + smut Playlist: I wanna be your Endgame Word Count: 4k Warnings: 18+, smut in later chapters, fuckbuddies to lovers. Mentions of cigarettes in this chapter. Reader is a creative writing student. Sukuna is an ice hockey player + history student. This story will have approximately 10 chapters. Minors don't interact. Header by me. Divider @/benkeibear

MASTERLIST

"Will you come to my game this Saturday?"

Sukuna smirks that charming smirk at you again, and his voice is so velvety that it sounds as if he is asking you to come to his bedroom instead of coming to one of his ice hockey games.

You have no idea why you seem to keep running into him lately. Maybe you never were aware of how many times your paths crossed. Or maybe fate decided to play some funny little game with you and the resident hockey star, and now you keep meeting over and over again.

You shrug helplessly and smile at him,

"I don't know. I've never been to a game. I don't even know the rules."

"That doesn't matter. You'll understand it once you watch a game. And if not, you can always ask me to teach you. So, will you come and watch me play?"

Sukuna looks expectantly at you with those pretty eyes. They are a shade of brown you have never seen on anyone else before, that rich maroon color that reminds you of red wine and autumn. Those eyes and that damn boyish grin make it hard for you to say no to Sukuna.

You laugh to cover up how nervous he makes you when he is standing so close to you. Attack is the best form of defence, so you cross your arms in front of your chest, look up at Sukuna, and ask with a raised eyebrow,

"You really want me to watch you play, huh?"

Any other guy would probably get flustered and backpedal or act indifferent. But not Sukuna. His smirk grows even wider, and he nods confidently,

"Yes. Can you even say you went to college if you never saw a hockey game?"

And then he adds with a wink,

"If you come, I will score a goal just for you."

He flashes you another cocky smirk and doesn't wait for your answer but just walks away toward the gym. You stare after him, shaking your head. He is impossible! That confidence is insane! Almost infuriating.

Maybe you should watch Sukuna's game just to see him not deliver what he promised. Sure, he is the resident starboy, but how good can he be? It's not like he is a professional hockey player. Low-key, you want to see Sukuna fuck up just so you can confirm to yourself that he is just another of those arrogant guys who are all talk and no action.

That Saturday, you watch the game. Your first hockey game since you started college. The first game of the Tigers you see. The first time you see Sukuna play.

And you must admit that the stupid title they gave him is accurate.

Sukuna really is The King of the Ice. He is the King of this whole arena!

His playstyle is fast and brutal, which doesn't come as a surprise. But even as a hockey noob, you can tell that Sukuna's mind plays just as much a part as his strength and is just as dangerous as his physical attacks. Strong, ambitious, and intelligent. It's a deadly combination that makes Sukuna unstoppable.

He skates across the ice at breakneck speed, elbowing his way through his opponents and making the rival goalie yell in fear at his teammates in a desperate attempt for them to stop the devil that is speeding towards him. But nothing the other team does seems to work against Sukuna. He is always a step ahead, sidestepping them before they can reach him as if he can predict their moves. You recall him telling you that he does all the analytics and works out the tactics, and you can see now that he didn't just brag but truly seems to know what he is doing.

No wonder the whole team is built around Sukuna. He is the most important player of the Red Tigers. The center of the first line, which to your amusement, is called The Curses because they make their opponents curse their names for being so damn strong. And Sukuna is the King of Curses, which seems a very fitting title. His brother Yuuji is on his right, and Todo is on his left, and both of them are ready to beat up everyone who dares touch their star player.

That's something that seems to happen pretty often. Sukuna keeps getting into fights, but many of them aren't initiated by the rival team. Even without knowing how ice hockey works, you can see that Sukuna provokes fights. You can see his lips move behind the face cage of his helmet while smirking devilishly at a player of the rival team, taunting him until the other guy snaps and drops his hockey stick and pushes Sukuna angrily.

At first, you flinch when you see the fight that erupts from that scene. Yuuji yells something and yanks that guy off a still-smirking Sukuna, dragging him away while Todo brutally bodychecks another rival player who comes over to join the rumble.

But both Yuuji and Todo stop immediately when Sukuna casually skates over and says something to them.

You watch incredulously as Sukuna pulls his gloves and helmet off, revealing his usually slicked-back pink hair, ruffled and out of place. He cocks his head and jerks his chin challengingly at the guy who pushed him, saying something to him, and you frown in confusion as the other guy takes off his helmet and gloves too.

What happens afterward is more of a boxing match than ice hockey. The whole arena is yelling and cheering Sukuna on, singing the team's song anytime their King lands a punch on the other player. Sukuna is a dirty fighter. You can see that. He uses any means he has to win. But he is also smart enough to only do as much as he can get away with without the referee intervening. Though it is a riddle to you, why a fight like that is even allowed in the first place.

You look at Nobara, who is sitting next to you.

"Why are they having a boxing match? Why does the referee not give them a penalty?"

Nobara shrugs,

"I don't know! That's just how hockey works, I guess!"

Right at that moment, Sukuna's fist connects with his opponent's cheek, and the other guy tumbles onto the ice. Sukuna joins him immediately, pressing him down for a moment as if to show his dominance before he lets go of him, pats his cheek tauntingly, and gets up again, smirking broadly.

You only realize now that you held your breath the whole time during the fight, letting it out now and laughing as adrenaline flows through your veins.

You didn't expect to enjoy this game so much, but it's definitely an experience you wouldn't want to miss!

The crowd is cheering loudly, celebrating their King's victory in this weird, inofficial fight that somehow is part of the actual game.

Sukuna skates back to his position, his helmet under one arm and one glove between his teeth, while he puts the other back on. He casually glides over the ice while smirking around the glove in his mouth like a beautiful devil. His eyes wander over the stands, soaking in the admiring gazes and the loud cheers coming from his fans.

And suddenly, Sukuna's gaze brushes over you.

You draw in a sharp breath at the same time as Sukuna digs the metal blades of his ice skates into the ice, coming to a sudden stop. He turns his head to scan the crowd again, and your heart jumps to your throat.

What is he doing? Is he looking for me?

Your heart is hammering in your chest when his gaze finds you again in the crowd, and his grin grows bigger, causing the glove to drop from the hold his teeth had on it, but he catches it casually with his left hand.

For a seemingly endless moment, you stare back at Sukuna, involuntarily feeling your lips lift in a matching broad grin. Your pulse flutters nervously. And then Sukuna winks at you.

Yuuji skates up to his brother and claps him on the back, and Sukuna averts his gaze from you and says something to his brother, pointing at another player, and they both skate over to him. You still look at the spot where Sukuna stood a moment ago, feeling a bit dizzy.

Nobara's voice pulls you out of your daze,

"Did he just wink at you?"

And you shrug helplessly and chuckle to hide how flustered Sukuna's wink made you,

"I don't know. Maybe he was looking at someone else."

But you know he wasn't.

The players on the ice get into position again, and the game continues. But Sukuna's line leaves the ice to sit on the bench while the other players get their turn. You hate to admit it, but you catch your gaze drifting away from the actual game and over to the bench, where Sukuna is sitting, discussing something with Yuuji and Todo.

You watch Sukuna run a hand through his ruffled pink hair, slicking it back again while he takes a sip from his water bottle, which makes his Adam's apple bop in a very enticing way.

Occasionally, Sukuna yells something at his teammates who skate past him. There's an angry fire burning in his eyes. You can see how invested he is in the game. How he watches every move meticulously, probably so he can use it later when he thinks of tactics for the next game. You can see how passionate Sukuna is about ice hockey, and if you are honest, it fills you with respect for him.

Sukuna is back on the ice a while later, just as graceful as before with smooth, fast moves and brutal bodychecks, clearing a path through the rival team's defense, skating so impossibly fast that no one can stop him.

Your fingernails dig painfully into your palms as you watch in complete fascination how Sukuna hits the puck so hard that it almost tears the net when he scores the next goal. The whole arena screams, and you are one of them. So caught up in the thrill of the highspeed game that you jump up from your seat.

On the ice, Sukuna gets buried under a pile of his teammates as they celebrate his insane goal, but once he emerges again with a fist lifted in victory into the air, his gaze instantly lands on you again. And to your shock, Sukuna is smiling. A dazzling, beautiful smile that lights up his whole face. He looks happy and proud and so damn beautiful.

You remember what he said when he asked you to come see his game. If you come to my game, I will score a goal just for you.

Well, he delivered what he promised. And what a goal it was!

Somehow, it makes you giggle like a schoolgirl, and you feel your face growing hot, even as you grin at Sukuna like an idiot. He seems to have only eyes for you, locked in this intense gaze with you while he still smiles that smile that makes your pulse flutter excitedly.

The eye contact becomes too intense for you, and you avert your gaze, too shy suddenly to keep looking at Sukuna.

The game continues, and you lean back in your seat, sipping on your water bottle to calm yourself down.

You wonder why no one ever cared to inform you how exciting ice hockey is! The Tigers are really good. Sukuna is good. No, not just good. He is fucking amazing!

It's fun to watch him play. Watching him skate across the ice like some super-human. Watching him bodycheck his opponents with ease. Watching him score goals with so much speed and precision that it leaves your mouth hanging open as you stare at him completely in awe.

The game is over much faster than you expected. Time flew by any time Sukuna was on the ice. You still have no clue about ice hockey, but you know that you had a damn good time!

On the ice, you see the Tigers high-fiving each other and giving each other back claps, congratulating each other on the win. You watch Sukuna pull off his helmet and laugh at something his coach says to him.

The team takes a victory lap around the rink, waving at the crowd in the stands. But your gaze only follows one specific player with pink hair and face tattoos.

Sukuna is chatting with his brother, reaching out to ruffle Yuuji's hair while they casually skate over the ice. His left hand stays on top of his brother's head even as Sukuna lifts the other hand and smirks up at the stands, letting the crowd celebrate him one last time.

Nobara taps your arm and points to the stairs, and you quickly grab your bag and follow her, still feeling light-headed from the euphoric atmosphere in the arena.

You walk past the plexiglass separating the stands from the ice when you see a flash of pink from the corners of your eyes.

You turn your head, and your gaze instantly lands on Sukuna. He is skating casually next to you, slow enough so he matches your walking pace. There's a smug grin on his tattooed face as he lifts his chin in greeting.

You smile back at him and yell, "Great game!" and his smirk grows even bigger before he yells back,

"Did you like the goal I scored for you?"

You trip over your own feet, making a funny little dance to catch yourself, feeling embarrassment wash over you while you think you hear Sukuna's amused laughter.

You look at him sheepishly, nodding and giving him a thumbs up,

"It was very impressive!"

Sukuna grins proudly at you, flashing his white teeth with the slightly pointy canines at you,

"Oh, everything I do is impressive, princess, I can guarantee."

And you roll your eyes and groan at his arrogance, but at the same time you can't help but snicker in amusement.

Sukuna chooses that moment to grab the front of his jersey and lift it to wipe the sweat off his tattooed face, revealing his stomach with firm abs and more tattoos.

Your eyelashes flutter, and you quickly turn your head away, feeling strangely flustered at the sight of Sukuna's naked skin with the sexy tattoos and all those hard muscles.

Luckily, Nobara grabs your arm at that moment and tells you to hurry up because she wants to meet up with Maki. You let yourself get pulled along, lifting your hand to wave at Sukuna and yell a "Bye!" in his direction, which he answers with a broad, knowing grin.

"So, could I convince you that ice hockey is the best sport?"

You're on your way to class when you see Sukuna almost at the same spot where you crashed into him two weeks ago. But this time, he doesn't wear his white team hoodie but a black sleeveless shirt, which accentuates his broad shoulders and shows off his muscular arms. His red backpack is casually slung over one shoulder, and his maroon eyes sparkle expectantly at you.

You shrug.

"I had a great time. I still know nothing about hockey, though, so I'm not sure about it being the best sport. It was a bit confusing because you practically beat each other up, but the referee didn't do anything about it."

Sukuna laughs. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his black jeans and leans closer to you.

"Yeah, we have official rules and other rules. I'll explain it to you over lunch. Meet me here in four hours."

He makes it sound as if it is set in stone that the two of you will have lunch together. As if the option of you turning him down, is so crazy, that he doesn't even consider it.

You are suddenly very aware of how Sukuna is towering over you with his tall, broad hockey player figure. Imposing as hell. And his dominant personality only adds to the effect.

Maybe two weeks ago, you would have run, too intimidated by Sukuna's overpowering presence. But right now, he doesn't make you feel anxious. Instead, you catch yourself leaning even closer, looking up at him, barely resisting the urge to reach out and touch his bulging biceps with those sexy black bands tattooed on them.

Your lips lift in a smile, and you give him a nod and a soft,

"Ok, see you for lunch, Sukuna."

You quickly walk toward your classroom before you can do something embarrassing like really feeling him up or drooling on his stupid, too-tight shirt.

Sukuna is already waiting for you at the agreed spot, and he grins so smugly at you that, for a moment, you contemplate just walking past him to see that smirk wiped off his face. But you behave and stop in front of him, cocking your head and asking him if he is ready.

Walking next to Sukuna feels strange, but not exactly in a bad way. Your height difference is even more prominent when you walk side by side, and it does weird things to your stomach anytime you sneak a glance at him.

But the strangest thing about the whole situation is the way Sukuna walks through the hallways as if he owns the place, and everyone seems to play along. You notice that people step aside to let him pass. Some even lower their heads, like peasants bowing to their King. It's insane to see how much authority he holds and how much people respect or even fear him.

And now you got pulled into this whole thing, too, by walking next to the hockey star!

You can see curious glances getting thrown your way. Guys are checking you out as if you are suddenly interesting now that Sukuna has graced you with his company. And girls watch you through narrowed eyes as if they ask themselves why you are allowed to walk next to Sukuna, and they aren't.

The only thing that's missing is people snapping pictures like some paparazzi.

The thought makes your lips twitch, trying to hold back a laugh as you imagine pictures of you and Sukuna walking into the dining hall together getting posted on some shady Instagram account with a caption asking who the mysterious woman by Sukuna's side is. Spotted: The resident hockey heartthrob and an unknown girl. As if you are in an episode of Gossip Girl.

A soft grunt escapes your lips, and you sway slightly to the right, making Sukuna bump into you. He reaches around you reflexively, and you feel his large, warm hand land on your upper arm, steadying you.

"Careful, princess. Or do you have a thing for crashing into me?"

You huff at his cocky comment, muttering an apology as you shake his arm off, at the same time as he pulls it away again, before you fall into step beside Sukuna again.

The dining hall is bustling at this time, but you and Sukuna make it surprisingly quickly to the counter because several people make space in the waiting line after taking one glance at Sukuna. You aren't sure whether it's his status as the hockey star or the glare he sends their way.

You get your meal and follow Sukuna, who leads you to a part of the dining hall you have never been to. Technically, this is not a private section, but everyone knows this part of the dining hall is reserved for the athletes, so you never bothered trying to find a table here.

Sukuna gestures to a table at the far end, beside the window. It is surrounded by lush decorative plants and even has a comfy-looking bench.

"This is my table. Come on, princess."

You frown at him,

"You have your own table? Is this some hockey player thing?"

Sukuna huffs and a low laugh escapes his lips,

"No, it's a Sukuna thing."

He strides over to his table and sits down on one of the chairs, graciously leaving the comfy bench to you. You smile at him and sit down across from him, placing your tray on the table.

Your gaze lands on Sukuna's tray, and you raise an eyebrow at the huge plate in front of him, filled with cooked chicken breasts, rice, and a whole mountain of broccoli. Sukuna catches your gaze and smirks at you,

"What? I have to take care of my body. I'm an athlete."

"Yeah, sure, an athlete who only eats cooked chicken and rice but smokes cigarettes. Makes a lot of sense."

"It's all about the balance. Now stop being a brat, and let me explain things to you."

Sukuna grins teasingly at you, and you can't help but grin back while rolling your eyes playfully.

Sukuna opens his backpack to grab a pen and a surprisingly neat folder from which he pulls a blank sheet of paper. He slams it on the table next to his plate and writes Hockey rules – A guide for curious brats by Sukuna on the top, making you complain in mock annoyance.

You spend the next thirty minutes eating your lunch while watching Sukuna fill the sheet with his unexpectedly graceful handwriting as he explains the rules to you. He even draws a small rink and some funny little hockey players. You laugh softly when you see him add face tattoos to the figure in the center of the first line.

Occasionally, Sukuna looks at you, maroon eyes framed by beautiful, long black lashes, gazing at you with amusement and so much intensity that it makes you feel like you are the only person in this room.

You gulp, feeling flustered at having Sukuna's undivided attention. And it doesn't help that his cologne smells really sexy when he leans across the table to point at the small drawings on the paper, explaining in that sexy, low voice how hockey works.

He is a good teacher, even though his pretty eyes and the sexy tattoos on his arms and face are distracting as hell.

But the official hockey rules are pretty easy to understand. What's more complex are the unofficial rules that Sukuna refers to as The Code, which explains why the players can beat each other up without the referee interfering. It leads to an animated discussion during which you have a ton of incredulous questions, and Sukuna answers all of them with an amused grin on his tattooed face but with surprising patience.

As your lunch break is drawing to an end, you are pretty well informed about the official and unofficial rules of the beautiful sport called ice hockey.

"Thank you, Sukuna. Now I finally understand what you are doing on the ice."

He cocks his head, laughing softly before he smirks that sexy, teasing smirk at you,

"You mean apart from looking handsome as hell?"

You groan at his arrogant remark but laugh, too, before you shove the sheet of paper across the table again. But Sukuna shakes his head.

"No, keep it, princess. So you can look at it again in case you forget something. Who knows... there might be some surprise tests. Better be prepared!"

He winks at you, and you laugh, but you take the note from his large hand.

The two of you walk side by side towards the exit, where your ways part. You thank Sukuna once again for the hockey lesson, and he grins at you. One of his large hands lands on your head and ruffles your hair, making you exclaim loudly. You reach up and try to smooth your hair down again while Sukuna walks away with his hand lifted in a casual wave.

When you return to your dorm later that afternoon, Nobara is instantly at your side, as if she manifested out of thin air.

"Why didn't you tell me you were going on a date with Sukuna?"

"That wasn't a date! We just had lunch together because he wanted to explain the ice hockey rules to me..."

You trail off, shrugging helplessly, while a triumphant grin spreads over Nobara's face,

"What do you need the rules for? To go to all his games?"

"It wasn't a date, Nobara!"

You quickly leave for your room, but you can't help but grin from ear to ear, clutching the note with the hockey rules even tighter to your chest. You know it wasn't a date, but you must admit that spending your lunch break with Sukuna was surprisingly nice, and you think you can still feel the warmth of his large hand on your arm.

HE IS SO SEXY ON THE ICE AND OFF IT, TOO 😭😭 I had so much fun imagining Sukuna playing hockey! I hope you enjoyed watching him play, too, and that you enjoyed spending your lunch break with him ❤️

Thank you so much for reading Chapter 2! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet!

In Chapter 3 Reader gets to learn a bit more about our hockey star, and they have a little scene that is filled with sexual tension ;)

[darkandstormydolls]

I finished another new costume!

This one is of Edwin from the webcomic Crowmance (I think I may unintentionally be on a mission to sew costumes for progressively more and more obscure pieces of media)

The skirt was a bit of a challenge to figure out. I ended up having to do a great deal of math (sixths! I had to divide things by sixths!) and sewing together blue panels that were half the width of the black panels and then carefully box pleating them in. I also had to go through every episode of Crowmance so far to decide where the blue flashes were (center front, side front, side back, center back). The capelet/sleeve pieces were originally going be be sewn in like sleeves, but I realized that they didn’t actually work out like that in the pictures, so I ended up draping them on the shoulders like cape pieces to figure out how I wanted them to sit and then just whipstitching them down. The bodice itself went together very easily; I had a pattern for a princess-seamed jacket and just adjusted it to have a solid back with a center seam and a singular center front piece. I went through and screenshotted just about every fully body or clear picture of Edwin to figure out the seams for this. I was debating about putting hooks and eyes down the back, since there’s clearly some sort of line there, but since the dress is loose enough to pull over my head I decided to just leave it with a center back seam. I also debated back princess seams, since they show up in some pictures but not others, but finally decided that they aren’t super clearly there.

Some of my reference pictures:

The belt is made of two layers of heavily interfaced cotton (I know it’s a lighter color than the lining in pictures, but I didn’t want to bother getting another fabric and I think it looks good in the same light blue) with an interlining of also very heavily interfaced upholstery fabric. The pattern varies from picture to picture, so I just picked the most detailed one I could find (first of the two above pictures) and traced it on, then topstitched it, and went around the edges with a zigzag stitch for the edging. The center circle is a separate piece with hooks on both sides and the points of the belt have eyes, so they clasp together.

I already had the white shirt from my normal wardrobe, and I added the hair ribbon from my ribbon stash because a. I felt like it added a bit of extra pizzazz and b. there was no way my hair was staying in that half-ponytail with just pins and I did not want to risk a hair tie messing up the curls (my hair is actually straight, so I did not have high hopes for the foam rods I used, but I was pleasantly surprised with the volume I got. No bangs, but it’s pretty close).

I had made a bunch of hooded capes for some friends a while back, but never got around to making one of my own, so I figured this costume would be a great place to do so and made a little winter addition. I’m very happy with how the feather trim turned out. I wanted it to mirror the sleeves. I wish that the lining was a bit darker, but this was the felt that Joann’s had, and I had to work with what was available. I also added a sparky brooch I got at a flea market and just had in my costume bin for a little extra sparkle (it is a crow outfit, after all) and to hold it in place (maybe I should use a sparkly hair clip instead of the ribbon next time I wear this?)

I’m partially considering making Edwin’s wedding dress(? Fantasy dress?) in addition to this, although it might be a while before I get around to it with all my other costume and sewing projects. And, of course, it depends on if I could find an appropriate trim.

[deva-26]

The Clouds Over a Street Like Venice

It starts out in the middle of a street, and it’s sunny. Looking very similar to one like Venice, with about three or four lanes on each side. A wide enough center divider for people to walk on and a sprinkle of palm trees disappear into the horizon on its spine. Surprisingly, there’s barely any traffic. In fact, I don’t even remember seeing a car. They might have all been used to evacuate.

We’re watching some sort of press conference being held, my older sister and I. Both Trump and Biden are side by side answering questions being asked by the small group of people around. They’re not making much sense, but their supporters try to convince everyone that they’re right. Something about some food having 10000% fat so the people couldn’t eat it. The small crowd voices their disbelief with boos, but they saunter off with a victory they think they’ve earned. They turn to talk to some people sagging at a bus stop. They might have been drunk. I mutter to my sister that no food has that much fat, except for maybe a whale. She voices her agreement. Then the sky catches my eye.

I notice a trail of several white clouds against the blue sky, and they’re moving, very fast. The clouds are separate from each other, shaped like that spinning object from Inception, only no point at the bottom. They glide soundlessly through the sky, but as rapid as any fighter jet, and make a show to curve closer to us as they pass. My eyes follow them back up into the atmosphere over my right shoulder, moving to hide in the rays of the sun. Im only disappointed about not being able to get a picture or video of them. My sister is barely interested and I follow her down the center divider.

Im looking down the center divider away from the sun, and i see it happen. A large fire ember spike is pushing its way out of the the street, and now the people take notice. You can feel the confusion and concern in the air. I want a closer look and make my way toward the ember spike laying on the floor. It’s a completely burned up palm tree trunk.

I look up again and the sky is turning dark with smoke from fires and the Sun beginning to go down. The separate clouds that passed earlier are now hanging in the sky with flashes of light shots randomly hitting the ground. I’m kind of in awe. I turn to my sister and pull her sway from a hole in the street, point at it and tell her to be careful. I glance at the surroundings again and it’s gotten darker. A long line of people are gradually filling up a liquor store that somehow still has electricity.

I glance to an overpass nearby with smoke billowing out from it, and a man appears with a white shirt, dark jeans, dark curly, oily hair to his shoulders and black spectacle glasses. I’ve never seen him before. I vaguely think that we should get a hold of mom and turn to my sister. The instant i see her face it starts.

She’s nothing but pleasant but I can feel my pulse quicken. She’s wearing similar clothes to the guy, I notice just now. And for some reason, she’s wearing glasses. I step closer to her and notice her eyes. I can feel the panic rush in. Her eyes say “don’t follow me”.

“Oh” I think and the anxiety reaches across my skin. As i step backwards from her, that man gets closer and she gets happier.

I turn away and I could feel the presence of my sister slowly fade away.

I turn to my left and see more people somehow still making their way into the liquor store, and it’s filled to the brim. I wrap my arms around myself. I make no move toward it.

I turn to the right and people are running, screaming, escaping together or just huddled together amidst the end of the world. I stay put, not wanting to interfere.

Im having a panic attack and can’t move. And I don’t want to be seen. My eyes move to the overpass and suddenly the clouds of smoke flowing out look so inviting.

The thought blaring in my head finally makes it out my mouth,

“I just didn’t want to be alone”

I say it again and my legs start to move.

I say it again and I’m closer to the flames.

Next thing I know im screaming it, running and crying toward the overpass, closer to the black clouds. I reach the fire but it doesn’t burn, if anything I feel cold. I smile, let the clouds envelope me and disappear in the smoke.

I blink my eyes open and feel a shade of my anxiety still bubbling in my torso. Tears are welled up in the corners of my eyes. I glance up at the ceiling and notice only one of my dreamcatchers is moving, ever so slightly.

Could be from a breeze, or my distressed breath. Or maybe this dream was so strong, it fought its way through the dream catcher to reach me.

It’s still moving so maybe a breeze.

This isn’t the first time I’ve woken up like this, panicky, sad, lost in my loneliness. But that’s the first time I’ve had that dream. The details were strong and vivid like a movie. I wish there was a way to record them so I could see it again.

My sister is fine and as far as i know, single. Not part of some oily haired cult. She moved out a couple of years ago.

I seek out solitude no matter any occasion or event. Flirting with songs in my phone. My subconscious is weird.

But there is this one theory that i like, from a movie of course. That dreams are connected to your other selves across a multiverse. And dreams show us the lives of those in the multiverse.

I’ve seen myself die so many times this way. Through dreams.

But ive no more time to dwell on this. I promised myself to get a burger and fries from a street that looks like Venice.

Hopefully, the clouds won’t move that fast in the sky.

[ssadumba55]

I Don't Deserve Bruno (Bruno Madrigal X Reader)

Request: Hi :) I hope you have a lovely day/night! Can I request something? What about Bruno x reader and usually in fics it's the townspeople who gossip about their relationship and say that reader is too good for them and he doesn't deserve them. But what if it's the other way round? This time the townspeople look down on reader and say they don't deserve Bruno

You had always been aware of the gossip that flowed through the village, if you spent even an hour there you were bound to hear some interesting things about people. It had never bothered you growing up, though you refused to participate in it yourself. There were far more important things to do than stand around and discuss what someone did with her hair.

Now, however, it was all you could think about. Being the center of it will do that to you, especially when they’re not exactly quiet about it.

Dating a Madrigal. He could do a lot better. What do you think Alma thinks of this? I can think of several people who would be a better match. Do you think he actually likes them?

Bruno was oblivious, or so it seemed. He would walk through the village, head held high, hand in yours. Loudly proclaiming (without words) that you were his. Or he used to anyway, now you refused to go anywhere in public with him. Even sitting down to family dinners with the Madrigal family made you nervous, like any second they would all realize you didn’t belong there.

The townspeople were right, of course they were. They were rarely ever wrong, soon the Madrigal’s would also figure it out, in particular, Bruno would.

“You’re thinking about it again,” Bruno glanced over, he was bent down, feeding his rats. He had no idea really what you were thinking about but he had taken notice of your odd behavior and connected the dots that it was related to one thing you weren’t ready to talk about yet.

He was patient, you had to commend him for it. It was clearly eating him to know what was bothering you, he wanted to know so he could help fix it but he respected your privacy.

You shook the thoughts from your head, kneeling down beside him, holding out your hands. He passed the rat he was holding to you and you stroked your finger over it’s head gently while he went back to his feeding,

He mumbled softly to his rats as he divided up the food. He’s a good guy, he’s been through so much. The people in town were right, you realized. He deserves someone better, someone who was worthy of his kindness, of his gentleness. Someone strong, not someone weak like you, who lets other people’s opinions tear them down.

‘I don’t deserve Bruno.’

If you were thinking logically at that moment, you may have realized how ridiculous this line of thinking was. But you weren’t. The rat jumped out of your hand as your breathing increased, your heart felt like it was beating so loud. You made to stand, but stumbled. Hands gripped your arms and you felt yourself being guided to sit.

“Are you okay? What happened? Should I get Julieta?” Bruno’s hands came up to cup your face, forcing you to meet his eyes. You pulled away from his hands so fast like the touch was burning your skin, watching as his expression changed from worry to hurt.

He returned his arms to his sides. “I- I’m sorry! Lo siento! Do you want me to get somebody else?”

You didn’t respond, just buried your face into your knees that you’d brought up to your chest. He had a feeling touching you would make it worse, so he fought the urge to move any closer. He wanted to help, to make whatever pain you were feeling go away but he wasn’t sure how to do it.

He wasn’t even sure what was wrong.

When you had calmed yourself down enough to speak again, you chose your words carefully.

“Bruno, wouldn’t you rather date somebody else in town? Maybe…” You were going to say someone worthy of being a Madrigal. You definitely weren’t.

His brows scrunched, confused by the question. There was nobody in town he’d rather date. He had only ever had eyes for you, and now that he had you he never planned on letting you go. You were his proudest achievement, as corny as it sounded. You just made everything in his life better, made living outside of the walls worth it.

“No. Why would you think that?”

And it suddenly dawned on him. Dolores had told him that the villagers had been saying some unsavory things about them as a couple, about his love especially. His heart felt like it was shattering, the same people who had once shunned him were now hurting someone he loved dearly. What a cruel twist of fate to be on the other side.

“It’s the people in town isn’t it?” He asked softly, and you were surprised he knew. He seemed to be connecting the dots as he went. “That’s why you wanted to stop going on walks… Even though you love them. And why you spend a lot of time here in my tower. You don’t want to be around other people because…”

“I’m not worthy to love a Madrigal, let alone become one. You could do so much better than me, Bruno,” you finished his thought for him.

He felt guilty for not realizing sooner how much you were hurting, he had assumed all of that was completely unrelated. Maybe you were tired or not feeling well…

“If either of us is not worthy, mi amor, it’s me. You’ve been carrying this all alone for so long and I should’ve been helping you. All of that is just lies, you know. You are the most amazing person I know, you sit with me and feed the rats, what other person would do that?” He reached his hand up to caress your face, this time you leaned into his touch instead of pulling away. “And the rest of the family adores you. My sisters think you’re a miracle in yourself for putting up with me, my sobrinos and sobrinas think you’re the best. Even Mamá. You make me the happiest man in the world, let alone Encanto. I don’t care what they think.”

He stuck his tongue out and even though you weren’t feeling entirely better, you laughed. He hummed softly, clearly happy to hear the sound come from your lips again.

“You know if you ever need a reminder, I’m always here,” he pulled you into his side, his words enough for now to quiet your raging insecurities. Eventually, you’d need a refresher on those words but for now, with them fresh in your head and heart, you could rest with him.

He made a thoughtful noise. “You know Antonio’s jaguar wouldn’t mind scaring the people who said those nasty things…”

“Bruno, we are not letting loose a jaguar in the town because they said bad things about me.”

“You’re no fun, mi amor. I’m sure they’d stop then!”

You rolled your eyes, chuckling as he bent his head down to kiss your cheek.

“Te quiero.” He said softly, you could feel his breath on your skin.

“Te quiero, Bruno.”

[spencersstrawberryjello]

Treat People With Kindness (The BAU)

Summary: Garcia gets Reid into Harry Styles and everyone subsequently loses their minds over it.

Content: Honestly just funny I’m not sure what to call it

MC’s name/pronouns: No alternate main character, just Spencer.

Word Count: 1706

A/N: This whole fic was inspired by the fact that a fan gave Matthew Gray Gubler a Treat People With Kindness pin, which then sparked my friend Emily and I to theorize that Spencer Reid would absolutely be a Harry Styles stan. So yeah, this is literally just the product of one fan interaction lmao

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“I got a good feelin’.”

“... What’s he doing?” Emily leaned over and whispered to JJ, who just shook her head.

“I’m just takin’ it all in.”

“Ok, what happened to Reid?” Morgan joined them, and they both shrugged, watching Spencer walk through the doors of the office. 

“Floatin’ up and dreamin’.”

“You know, maybe I need to add him to my drug test list too.” Hotch had stepped out of his office, trying to hide his grin as they saw Spencer making his way to his desk, headphones in and practically dancing over to his seat, mouthing every word of the song he was listening to. He plopped down in it with a little spin, opening a file on his desk without ever taking his headphones out. 

“Try ‘Dancing with the Stars,’” Emily laughed, and JJ broke away from their group, heading over to his desk. 

“Hey Spence,” She rested her arms on the divide between his desk and Emily’s, tapping on it to get his attention. 

“Maybe we can find a place to feel good.”

“Spence!” She tapped his arm this time, and he practically jumped out of his skin, turning to face her.

“And we can treat -”

He quickly tore the headphones out of his ears, setting them down on his desk and looking up at her, clearing his throat.

“Sorry. I was listening to something.” He gestured to the headphones still connected to his phone, as if that wasn’t already obvious. 

“Yeah, I noticed,” JJ laughed.

“Do we have a case?” 

“Nothing yet, you’re good.” She tried fruitlessly to hide her grin, and he gave her a strange look.

“Ok…”

“So,” She plopped down in Emily’s chair, rolling it over to sit near him, “What were you listening to?”

“Oh!” His face lit up, and he grabbed his phone, holding it out for her to see. She put the headphones in her ears, hearing the final moments of the song he’d been jamming to.

“And we can treat people with kindness, find a place to feel good.”

“Harry Styles?” JJ laughed incredulously, handing him back his phone. 

“You’ve heard of him?” He asked, taking the phone and sitting it back on his desk and turning back to her.

“I’m pretty sure most people have heard of him, Spence.”

“Ok, well, I hadn’t. But on Saturday I was speaking at the University of Mary Washington with Rossi, and one of the girls gave me this, after the lecture,” He grabbed his bag off the back of the chair, pointing to a round pin clipped on the strap. It was enamel, with light pink on the inside and a red rose in the center, encircled by the phrase “Treat People With Kindness” in black lettering. “And you know, naturally I thought it was a good message so I put it on my bag and I thought that was all it was. But then I ran into Garcia.”

“Oh god.”

“I was walking in yesterday and she saw it and kind of freaked out a little bit, and pulled me into her office and played me the song - the one you just listened to - and it was amazing and so I told her I thought it was amazing, which made her freak out even more and then you called with a case so I left, only to receive a a YouTube playlist a few hours later that she told me I had to watch every video on or she’d stop printing the case files for me.”

“You know she loves you too much to actually do that, right?”

“I mean, the odds were low, but I wasn’t going to risk it. Either way, I sort of listened to every single song on Fine Line and Self-Titled in one night and also a whole bunch of interviews that she sent me and he’s really funny and his music is great and the moral of the story is I kind of love him.”

JJ sent back in her chair, dumbfounded. “Dude… you mean to tell me Garcia made you a Harry Styles fan?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“I - Penelope!” JJ left without another word, making her way into Garcia’s office. Spencer just shrugged, returning to the file he was looking at - and his music - as Garcia spun to face JJ.

“Jennifer, my love, to what do I owe the pleasure? New case?” She asked. JJ just shook her head.

“You broke Reid.”

“I did not break Reid!” She defended with a grin. “I merely helped him reach his true form.”

“He willingly used technology, and he came into the office today practically dancing to Treat People With Kindness. So yes, you did break Reid.”

“JJ, dear,” Garcia got up from her chair, taking JJ’s hands in the doorway, “Do you remember when Reid got that adorable little shaggy haircut?”

“Despite the fact that he changes his hair like every month, yes, I do.”

“And do you remember what Hotch said?”

She thought for a moment, then her eyes widened in shock. “You did all of this… because of the boyband joke?”

“Like I said: true form.” Garcia returned to her chair, spinning around with a laugh. “In my defense, I didn’t know he was going to get a Harry Styles pin. I just took advantage of the opportunity when it presented itself. I already failed at teaching him to worship Lady Gaga, I could not miss another chance to try and pull him out of the dark ages.”

“You are ridiculous, you know that?”

“That’s why you love me!” 

JJ laughed, leaving Garcia’s office and heading up to hers, ruffling Spencer’s hair on her way by.

“You should grow your hair out again.”

“You think so?” He reached up and fussed with his hair, just as Garcia emerged into the main room. 

“Spencer Reid, my beautiful boy genius, did you do what I asked?”

“Garcia, I figured out how to download music to my phone because of you. So yes, I did what you asked.”

“You are officially my new favorite person.”

“Hang on, what is this all about?” Emily asked. Garcia grinned, hardly able to contain her excitement. 

“I’m finally bringing the lovely Dr. Reid here into the 21st Century.”

“Penelope,” Emily raised an eyebrow at her, “What did you do?”

“Garcia thinks she did something revolutionary by getting me into Harry Styles’ music,” Spencer clarified. Emily immediately clapped her hand over her mouth, about to respond before Derek piped up from his desk.

“Oh, she converted you too?”

“‘Too’ - you mean to tell me that you, Derek Morgan, are a Harry Styles fan?” Emily was looking between the three of them now, practically in shock. Derek just laughed, holding up his hands.

“What can I say, the guy’s got an incredible voice.”

“And the make up of his songs is so interesting as well; I mean, when you look at the music he’s produced in the last few years in comparison to what he performed while he was a part of One Direction -”

“Oh my god please tell me you’ve also listened to One Direction,” Emily said, laughing when Spencer nodded. 

“I don’t understand why you guys are making such a big deal out of this. He’s a singer, it’s not like he doesn’t have fans,” He defended. 

“Reid, two months ago you didn’t even know who Lady Gaga was. This is kind of a big deal.”

“Conference room in five,” JJ walked through the group, heading upstairs as everyone else got up to follow her. 

“Do not think I am dropping this,” Emily pointed at Derek and Spencer before jogging to catch up with JJ. Derek laughed, falling in step with Reid. 

“So, what all did Garcia make you watch?”

“Oh, just a bunch of interviews. I did some of my own reading though -”

“Of course you did.”

“- and what I found really interesting was One Direction’s actual rise to fame. Because the thing is, they didn’t even win X-Factor. They came in third, and yet they became the most famous group to come from that season of the show. In Forever Young - their book - they talked about their time on X-Factor, but it was so strange to me because their first album - Up All Night, that came out not even a full year after they finished the X-Factor live tour - sold 4.5 million copies within the first year. And they just kept growing… Morgan why are you laughing?”

“I’m sorry,” They’d walked into the conference room by now, sitting down next to each other at the table while Derek tried to stop himself from laughing, looking at Reid in disbelief, “You read their book?”

“And their Wikipedia page - I told you I did my own reading!”

“You said you did some of your own reading, you didn’t say you’d memorized everything about their career!”

“Eidetic memory, remember?” He tapped his forehead, and Derek rolled his eyes.

“You never let me forget. I’m assuming you know everything about their solo careers as well?”

“Well I got into Harry’s stuff first, but I ended up reading all of theirs since I didn’t have anything else to do last night. It’s just so interesting to think about what One Direction’s situation reveals about human nature and celebrity culture. I mean, a lot of their fans are dictionary definition erotomaniacs, and yet -”

“I shouldn’t even be surprised that you read this all in one night.”

“Like I said: didn’t have anything else to do.”

“As much as I’m glad you boys are bonding, we have more important things to worry about than Reid’s newfound love for a British boy band,” JJ interrupted.

“Niall Horan’s actually Irish -”

“Spence. The case.” She pulled up the photos on the screen, and Spencer nodded, opening the case file in front of him as JJ began to review everything they needed to know. She finally closed out, and Hotch grabbed his tablet and rose from the table. 

“Alright, wheels up in thirty.”

Everyone nodded, gathering up their things and vacating the room. Spencer and Derek trailed out after everyone, Spencer picking up the conversation as soon as JJ finished. 

“You know, I’m considering learning how to knit - there’s this cardigan that Harry wore...”

[saffronique]

I Read Leopardstar's Honor So You Don't Have To: A Review (Not Spoiler Free)

Oh Leopardstar. A cat who has long divided the fanbase as a leader beloved by some and despised by others. After years of waiting (for some) she was finally given her own super edition. In a word it was... underwhelming.

Introduction:

The book opens during Leopardstar's kithood days. The first scene is adorably heartwarming- readers are treated to Leopardkit and her denmates playing the warriors version of hide and seek, and there are some absolutely adorable moments here, such as Crookedjaw helping Leopardkit escape the seeker by whisking her away on his back, and Mudfur doting on his daughter. The scene takes a sharp turn when Skykit, one of Leopardkit's denmates, lures her away from the group to shove her head underwater and berate her for giving away Skykit's hiding place in the last round of hide and seek. Skykit's actions are startlingly cruel here, as she tells Leopardkit that she's a rotten kit that killed her own mother and that she is doomed to the dark forest like all the other murderers. This understandably disturbs and traumatizes Leopardkit, and when she speaks to her father about it, Mudfur reassures her that she is good, and that Brightsky came to him in a dream to say that Leopardkit will one day save RiverClan. Leopardkit latches on to this dream, and the book follows her through relatively disjointed moments in her life as she tries to live up to her destiny.

Pacing:

The pacing of the book is an absolute nightmare. We don't spend long enough in any one part of Leopardstar's life to see her have any meaningful interactions with other cats, and thus the majority of the relationships she has seem surface level at best, forced at worse, with Whiteclaw being a notable exception. She spends maybe 3 chapters as a kit, 3 as an apprentice, 3 as a warrior, 2 as a mentor, and so on. As a result, we don't actually get the opportunity to see Leopardstar learning or struggling in a meaningful way at any point. We're TOLD she's a hard worker, that she's dedicated and loyal, but the book gives you little chance to actually see it. The book slows down long enough to force an almost love story with Frogtail, which Leopardstar ultimately gives up on to focus on her work, but then a few chapters later Frogtail is dead and it's back to jumping around through her life.

The book really suffers from a lack of side characters and relationships to help things feel connected. The only real through line is this silly dream from Mudfur-not even an official prophecy- that Leopardstar focuses on to the exclusion of all else. Compare this to Crookedstar's Promise and Bluestar's Prophecy- while both books feature a greater destiny that the characters focus on throughout the book, they are given the chance to develop meaningful relationships that last for large chunks of the book. Bluestar has her relationship with her sister and her rivalry with Thistleclaw, and even her friendship with Thrushpelt, all of which allow her story to feel genuine and naturally lend themselves to interesting subplots. Crookedstar has his relationship with Mapleshade, his romance with Willowbreeze, his desire to prove himself to his mother- again, all things that make him feel like a well rounded, multifaceted character. Leopardstar has her dream, and ONLY her dream. None of her friendships last more than a few chapters before the other character is killed off. Her most meaningful relationship, with her apprentice and adopted son Whiteclaw, has the potential to round out Leopardstar's character, but Whiteclaw's fate has been predetermined. We all know he's going to die in the gorge because we see it happen in Fire and Ice. After Whiteclaw's death, Leopardstar briefly has a compelling relationship with Silverstream after she discovers her relationship with Graystripe. Silverstream and Leopardstar have opposing priorities of love and duty, and the interactions between them are an interesting insight into both characters. Silverstream actively rebukes Leopardstar's mindset and challenges her priorities, something that would have been invaluable in making Leopardstar's choice to join Tigerstar seem more consequential. But Silverstream too is doomed to die, and by the time the book reaches its climax, Mudfur is the only cat left to challenge Leopardstar's choices. Instead of letting the rift between father and daughter build, Leopardstar has no problem simply banishing her father and medicine cat for disagreeing with her. No one that she cares about is left to challenge her for her decisions, and thus there are no real stakes to the choices she makes. Sure, Stonefur dies and its awful, but the book doesn't bother to develop any real friendship or camaraderie between the two, so it doesn't feel as impactful as it should. The book concludes with Leopardstar understanding that she's wrong and Mudfur convincing her that she's going to save the Clan from the disaster she helped create. At the very least, Leopardstar seems to understand the problems with this and points out that it's not really her saving the Clans, its Firestar. This is completely true, as she has no role in Tigerstar's downfall and no role in stopping Scourge. The best that can be said for Leopardstar is that she doesn't get in the way of Firestar here.

She faces no real struggles aside from her father's doubt as to her ability to lead, a dynamic already witnessed between Brambleberry and Crookedstar and done much better.

Awful editing:

This book suffers from an almost unbelievable lack of care on the part of the editors, with big chunks of text very obviously cut and pasted to different parts of the story without any effort to edit out nonsequitors. The most painful instance of this revolves around Stormpaw and Featherpaw's apprenticeship. In one scene, Leopardstar comments on the fact that Primrosekit and Pikekit will be made apprentices any day (Reedkit is inexplicably absent here, and Perchkit seems to have died offscreen though it is never mentioned) and notes that Stormkit and Featherkit still have their kit fluff and look tiny next to their older denmates. A couple paragraphs later, we see Featherkit and Stormkit being apprenticed to Mistyfoot and Stonefur, in a paragraph that EXPLICITLY STATES that it's the very next day. The other kits have mysteriously been apprenticed already. Boulder and Jaggedtooth of ShadowClan are inexplicably present at the ceremony, despite there being no mention of their arrival at any point and Leopardstar refusing Tigerstar's offer to join their two Clans together the day before. A few pages later (yes, literally just pages later, that's how atrocious the pacing is) we cut to a battle between RiverClan and ThunderClan at the Sunningrocks, where Stonefur and Mistyfoot's parentage is revealed. Leopardstar doesn't actually hear this, but she does overhear them discussing it in the most painfully forced way possible moments later. Leopardstar finds herself absolutely HORRIFIED that she's apprenticed two half-Clan cats to half-Clan mentors.... and then a few chapters later, after forming TigerClan, Tigerstar asks her if she still intends to make Mistyfoot and Stonefur mentors to Featherkit and Stormkit despite their parentage, to which Leopardstar responds that they are still loyal RiverClan warriors. Yes, I'm serious.

Leopardstar's character:

This super edition is nothing but a showcase of the absolute worst aspects of Leopardstar as a character. Throughout the book she is shown as racist, battle hungry, self-centered, foolish, and utterly lacking in compassion or even pity for any Clan other than her own. She is constantly making racist generalizations about cats from other Clans, actively wishes for WindClan's downfall, sides with Tigerstar simply because Fireheart is a kittypet, and, perhaps most disturbingly, tries to murder Fireheart in cold blood because of his kittypet background. This book literally does nothing to endear the reader to Leopardstar, it makes her out to be the most despicable, honorless cat imaginable. And honestly, if you're not a Leopardstar fan, I think that's one of the most compelling things about this book. The desire to see what atrocities Leopardstar would commit next was what kept me interested in the story, honestly it was the only reason I finished it. There was something morbidly fascinating about watching a character so self absorbed and lacking in compassion interact with the world around her. It was enjoyable in a way to see a character so deeply set in the beliefs that the series has repeatedly established as wrong time and time again. Pacing and editing aside, this difference in philosophy is a breath of fresh air after the same recycled plotlines and moral messages that the series has been using for years. This book isn't going to make you like Leopardstar, but it is going to make you love to hate her.

What the book did right:

While there were very few positives to the book, it wasn't completely lacking in value. The book succeeded in developing a deeply meaningful relationship between Whiteclaw and Leopardstar that, thankfully, wasn't a romance. Their mother/son and mentor/apprentice relationship does a good job at setting up Leopardstar's grudge against ThunderClan over Whiteclaw's death as we see it play out in the first arc. Honestly, Leopardstar as a character would have been served far better if this had just been a novella detailing the relationship between these two. That was probably the only real thing of value in the book, honestly. Aside from that, Frogtail and Leopardstar's relationship, while I personally found it completely unnecessary, addressed a topic I've been hoping to see in warriors for a while now-- two characters who love each other but decide that the things they want out of life are mutually incompatible, and part ways amicably. Leafpool x Crowfeather and Bluestar x Oakheart both almost did this, but fell short because it was only ever really one character who decided to end the relationship. Unfortunately, the value in this message is somewhat diminished by the fact that Leopardstar later laments multiple times that she should've given up on her goals and just had kits with Frogtail instead, an absolutely disgusting conclusion that plays into the recurring problem of misogyny in warriors where women aren't allowed to be both mothers and hold a position of power, they have to choose between the two.

All in all, this Super Edition is easily the worst so far in terms of plot, pacing, and writing, but I still found some enjoyment in reading the perspective of such a selfish, cruel protagonist.

[mammons-tax-returns]

How would Lucifer, Mammon, Levi, Satan, Asmo, Barbatos, Solomon, and Diavolo react to a male MC who wears skirts (because *chants* men in skirts, it’s masculine af) on the daily? bonus if the MC wears black nail polish!

REACTING TO MC THAT WEARS SKIRTS

LOVE THIS PROMPT 🙏

During this I imagined 💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻TANGO DANCER SOLOMON and thats going into my art idea list

masterlist

✖️MALE MC✖️

Not unlike all the other boys, Lucifer is willing to risk it all as soon as he sees it.

His favorite cut of skirt is the classic a-line ones, both modest and not.

A CLOSE second goes to wrap skirts.

This is a SFW blog so I will not be going into any detail at this time ✨

Literally loses his breath everytime he sees MC, and it surprises him.

If MC isn’t already wearing the RAD skirt, he’s already offering to get him a set. Almost too eagerly?

When MC decides to not wear a skirt one day, he tries not to make it too obvious, but he’s simply curious as to why is all. Maybe a tad bit let down.

MC insisted one time that Lucifer painted his nails for him, and...

“Well, normally Asmo is the one doing that for all of us...”

“But Lucifer 🥺”

“Alright... Fine. But I’ll have to continue my paperwork in between each layer.

It’s just kinda cute to think that he would spend an incredibly unnecessary amount of time on each nail, trying to perfectly lay down the polish. Occasionally, his tongue will poke out because of his concentration.

There’s some slip ups here and there, but mentioning them will only get him flustered.

I don’t use this word lightlySIMP SIMP SIMP

He thinks he loves MC in every skirt imaginable just as equally as the last (which, he actually might) but deep down he can’t deny that a mini skirt just hits different.

The first time he saw MC wearing a mini skirt, mammon’s initial reaction was to cover him up before anyone could see him.

However, he failed to realize that he was actually the last of the brothers to see him, since he woke up late.

But that’s just what being the avatar of greed does to you. You just want to keep what’s yours, no matter what.

But considering his jacket isn’t as big as Lucifer’s or Solomon’s, he ended up just holding it up against MC’s lower half and stood in front of him.

It took the coaxing of MC and the snark comments of his siblings to make Mammon finally allow MC to walk around freely.

Looking back on it, Mammon most certainly understands why even Asmo had called him clingy.

But even now, he can’t help but hold MC a little bit closer in public when so many demons are staring at him! It just feels wrong to allow them to do that.

Cut him some slack, he thinks MC looks amazing, and he trusts him, but they’re literally in hell surrounded by demons. He just wants to keep his boy safe <33

Levi doesn’t even realize what MC’s wearing at first.

In fact, he doesn’t realize even after their first FEW encounters.

He only notices because while Mammon was ranting to him and Satan about money, he brings up MC and his “stupid and cute but also dumb skirts”

Levi is baffled that he’s the only one that hasn’t noticed it. So, the next time he walks by MC’s room, he contemplates stopping by to talk. Right... Socialize. That.

While Levi is stuck in his thoughts, MC opens the door, presumably ready to go out to a party with Mammon and Asmo.

*fish man short circuits*

MC looks...! S-so cute....!

- thinks the third born otaku.

Because I’m big on fashion, I can kind of picture an exact skirt I feel would apply to him. Let your mind run free but I imagine a semi-sheer maxi skirt with water-like embellishments uwu

But don’t get me wrong, Levi literally loves seeing MC in skirts so anything will get him like 😳 yall know how he is

Actually starts to get more interested in feminine fashion because of MC. And one day, he purchases a long black skirt from Akuzon.

He saw a popular cosplayer wearing one, and so he makes that his excuse.

No one even realizes the change except for Asmo, who gushes over the new look, even if it barely changed. MC also notices, but only compliments him/brings it up when they’re alone so Levi doesn’t overheat.

I was this close to typing “Satan is a man of beauty and FASHION” can you believe that

OKAY ENOUGH SATAN SLANDER

Satan... He can recognize when someone else looks ridiculous.

But he knows for a FACT. That MC very likely pulls off a skirt better than anyone he’s seen before.

Call him biased, but he sincerely loves it on MC specifically.

He likes the puffier skirts because they’re ADORBS, but for a more casual look, there’s this one asymmetrical skirt in particular that makes MC look so handsome to him.

He has no idea why men don’t wear skirts more often! Surely MC isn’t the only one that can do it!

Oh. Right. Gender norms 😪🤚🏼

Satan feels his anger crawl up his skin when he watches MC get ridiculed. And just for something he simply enjoys wearing! The nerve of demons.

He advances to “de-escalate” the situation in the most “avatar of wrath” way possible, but when he sees MC’s slumped shoulders walking away from him, he feels more inclined to follow and comfort him.

Satan gives an icy glare to the irrelevant demons, taking note of their faces, and goes after MC.

He doesn’t immediately bring up the situation, instead opting to go out on a spontaneous date to a nice café or a shopping district. Anything to distract from the situation subtly.

If his plan works out, splendid. Anything to make light of situation without even addressing it for even a day is good.

If the shopping and food doesn’t quite bring MC’s smile to his eyes, Satan will just have to be forward with his feelings for once.

“MC. I’m not entirely sure how I can get it through to you, but you shouldn’t be worrying about what some moronic, low-level demons think of you or your clothes. Much less what they say. Just be you, and make them suffer ten times worse.”

MC relishes in his words, even if the last bit sounded more like a threat than anything.

The last thing Satan would ever do is let MC even hesitate wearing an outfit that he would have had no trouble throwing on any other day because of someone else.

Asmo screams (in a happy way)

“No, Mammon! You’re wrong. MC is NOT my personal dress-up doll! He’s my model.”

Trying to break the stigma around Asmo’s “shallow” personality, let’s get the obvious things out of the way.

He and MC shop together pretty much every other day. It’s almost concerning. And nail appointments are, of course, regular.

NOW THAT THAT’S OVER,

Yes yes, Asmo loves the skirts and wonderfully glossy black nails, but there’s still such a massive divide between him and MC. Not physically, or even relationship-wise.

He’s never met someone like MC, who is so fashion-heavy and just the right amount of self-centered.

He thinks its the fact that they’re a human and demon. But he’s seen firsthand that the line between what makes a demon so different from a human is very thin. Solomon is an example of that.

But he realizes it’s just MC. He’s simply dressing for himself and himself only.

Asmo loves himself, there’s no doubt. And it’s nice to go out and dress fancy for others. He couldn’t dream of another lifestyle.

But he has to admit that what MC is doing is working for him. He comes off as a charming sort of man when he ignores the negative comments made about his clothes.

He knows that people in both Devildom and the human realm are a little sensitive when it comes to men in skirts. And the fact that MC continues to wear them is beautiful in and of itself.

This got kind of deep out of nowhere and i apologize but Asmo deserves to be seen for more than he’s constantly portrayed as 😞

Diavolo isn’t really thrown off that much by it at first, but as time passes, he starts to understand the appeal of skirt-wearing MC.

PENCIL SKIRT LOVER 🚨🔊PENCIL SKIRT LOVER🚨🚨🚨🔊🔊🔔🗯

Barbatos has to remind him that it’s rude to stare, but he finds it almost entertaining how whipped they BOTH are for MC.

Like Asmo, he actually loves bringing him out to shop!

The only difference between the two experiences is that Diavolo has no fucking idea what he’s doing when he picks out clothes for him.

Which leads to some pretty funny/terrible clothing combinations.

No, Diavolo, MC will not be wearing a flannel top with a camouflage hi-low skirt. Put those plaid socks away.

He’s confused and even a little sad when MC continues to turn down his ideas, but he figures that he should turn this into a learning opportunity.

So he lets MC grab whatever he wants, and patiently waits for him to finish up in the fitting rooms.

The store clerk is shitting her pants at the sight of the literal future ruler of Devildom hyping MC up with the energy of a puppy retriever.

Barbatos does an amazing job pretending like this doesn’t affect him.

He’s a classy man, he just internally loses it when he sees MC in any fancy skirt, really. From silky gold ruffles to a victorian-esc vibe, he’s obsessed.

So when Diavolo makes arrangements for an event/ball, Barbatos makes sure to, at the very least, offer to help MC get ready at the castle. He may not be the most fashion-centric but being able to spend time with MC in an extravagant get up is enough to make a demon butler interested.

Most of the time he’s disappointed because in between the seven brothers, he’d be lucky to be able to see MC at all because of how jealous they can all get.

I can imagine that even Diavolo doesn’t get to hear what Barbatos has to say about MC and his ability to make him weak at the knees.

But all it takes is Diavolo prompting, “MC’s outfit tonight... It was a sight for sore eyes, correct?”

Then, Barbatos lets a compliment or two slip out.

I can also imagine MC wearing a slightly short snd flowy skirt, and some rather disgusting demons waiting for it to get picked up by the wind, only for Barbatos to already be there, discreetly holding the fabric down and shooting them an intensely calm smile

Barbatos will always be one step ahead of creeps.

👀..

sneaky boy is sneaky.. especially with the constant glances he gives MC.

Solomon’s favorite type of skirt to see on MC is DEFINITELY pleated. No other option.

Unlike Lucifer, if MC isn’t wearing a skirt, he makes it clear that he wishes he would’ve.

It’s in a playful manner, though! Don’t worry.

“No skirt today? Bummer. That’s fine though, I can’t expect myself to feel attracted any less.”

I imagine MC wearing a flowy skirt to some sort of event at the demon lord’s castle, and he uses his magic to make it temporarily sparkle or shine.

This mf flashy and wants EVERYONE to know that MC is dancing with HIM and no one else.

But if you ask him about it, what? What’re you talking about? Lights?? Emitting from your skirt??? While we were dancing ?¿ Crazy talk. I would never do such a thing.,.

As childish as it is, he loves to see the way it flows when MC twirls or turns.

Not in a weird way, either. It’s just beautiful to him.

So, not to be cheesy (which he WITHOUT A DOUBT is.) but he’ll occasionally just spin MC by his hand throughout the day, then catch/dip him by the waist.

[matryosika]

shoot me, chapter III

pairing — changbin x reader

rating — 18+

genre of the overall series — smut, angst, fluff if you squint

prologue chapter I chapter II chapter III

word count for this chapter — 3.7 k

warnings — suggestive, slight jisung x reader, mentions of alcohol, possessive and jealous changbin, choking and sexual tension.

note — i have been pretty ia lately because i'm full of school work to do. my semester is coming to an end, so i must turn in final projects and take my final tests too. i'm normally much active than i have been on this account, i promise to get back to you as soon as school ends for me. this chapter has just sexual tension but not smut smut and it's shorter than the rest but i needed to divide the chapter because it became way too long. smut promised for next one that i will be uploading this weekend (hopefully!)

taglist: @cozyblues @ahgasearmyfan @binnie-m00n

*

[12:17 a.m. Changbin]

i don't think we should to that again

it was a mistake

you looked at your phone at a extreme state of confusion. he had left your place minutes ago and, after an amazing session of oral sex, a lovely dinner and a extremely bearable (maybe even good) late-night talk, the walk to his car was all it took for him to develop a guilt complex?

[12:17 a.m. Changbin]

i just needed to vent but honestly, getting with you can really damage my future and that's not something i'm willing to jeopardize for sex.

you read his messages over and over again. it was the "i just needed to vent" that got backlash from you... did he really just came to your place only to ease his sexual frustrations?

you were still siting in the living room, hugging your knees to your chest. you hadn't lose self control once but twice, and not to mention it was with a man whose only purpose all along was to use you to feel better about himself.

"you really touched bottom this time" you whispered to yourself, feeling the need to take a second shower in order to rinse away all the traces from his touches and kisses on your skin.

maybe it wasn't really the guilt that bothered you. maybe it was the fact that, tonight, was probably the best night you've ever had for a while. he took well care of you, after finishing he cleaned you up and carried you to your room so you could take a shower and change your clothes.

he patiently waited for you while sitting at the edge of your bed and, when you were done showering, some delicious food he ordered was already expecting both of you at the dinning room of the house. during dinner, you told him a little bit about your life in japan and shared some childhood memories with him.

things were good, maybe too good for your own liking, but it only took a couple of minutes for changbin to remind you who he truly was.

not only that, but you also wouldn't admit the fact that you had a great time with him.

*

you spent the rest of the week calmly, having to hang out with changbin more times than you actually wanted to. he would often act like a gentleman in front of his parents and arthur, trying to engage in coversations with you often, asking you about your major and your adolescence in japan. you thought that he was just doing that in an attempt to hide the awkwardness of the air every time you had to spend time with him at arthur's company, but that didn't completely eased the fact that you felt your blood boil every time you had to be near him.

*

"you are coming, right?" ryujin cried from the other side of the phone "you told me you wanted to come!"

fuck, chan's party was this weekend.

"uhhhh" you mumbled "ryujin i don't feel good"

"y/n!" she screamed "is it because of changbin? baby? i have known you since pre-school, are you really feeling bad over a man you met barely 2 weeks ago?"

ryujin was right. you hated men, you truly did. and you were too proud about the fact that you had never cried over one, let alone have your heart broken by any of them. and it wasn't changbin you were sad about but the fact that he used you, you let him and then tried to act like nothing ever happened between both of you, which was even more humilliating. it always seemed like you had everything controlled but this time he was the one who got the last word and that was something you just couldn't accept.

"besides" ryujin added without leaving time for you to talk "i don't even think he is coming, chan said that he invited more people outside his friend group because some of them were not going to make it tonight, maybe he is one of them"

"maybe" you said "but i'm not willing to take a risk on that, ryujin"

you couldn't see her, but you could clearly picture how she was pouting at that exact moment. "y/n, you will eventually go back to japan and we will not be able to hang out anymore. is that what you want? do you want to reject your best friend on a saturday night? plus! the last time i took you to itaewon you had a great time!"

"speak for yourself ryujin" you mutered

"PLEASE" she screamed, making you squirm in your place "i promise that i will be by your side the whole time, i won't get distracted by the gorgeous, precious, well-built, amazing...."

"alright" you interrupted her "i know you are lying but i want to believe you for once"

she did a little scream of victory on the other side of the line and proceeded to set an hour to pick you up, almost against your will.

*

"what's the special occasion?" you asked ryujin as she went through all your clothes that were now laying around your bedroom floor, trying to find the perfect outfit for chan's party because you were dressed too casual, apparently.

"today it's the birthday of one of his closest friends" she said, almost in a hurry "and we are now running late because of your choice of clothes"

"i didn't knew there was a dresscode" you said, sitting at the edge of your bed.

"oh no, there isn't" she responded, now lurking around your suitcase and bags "but you need to let know changbin what he is missing out"

you rolled your eyes and grunted, of course. ryujin was that type of friend who would hype you up while you wear a killer outfit just to piss off a man.

"FINALLY" she screamed, finding the black dress that you stole from changbin at coex "i knew you had something around"

with hesitant eyes you looked at her handing you the dress, not sure if this easy outfit, like changbin said, would fit the occasion. "go on, it's almost 9 p.m."

*

by the bar incident you learned that chan, changbin and the whole friend group were a bunch of privileged men, but you didn't quite understand how privileged they were until you found yourself outside chan's house. the architecture looked excentric but expensive, at the same time. it was located in a pretty nice neighbourhood and was specially afar from the rest of the houses as if the most important value around was privacy.

you looked at ryujin and she seemed nervous. understandable. she came from a decent household but this right here just looked like the mansion of a western celebrity.

"are you alright?" you asked her, closing the door of her car before walking towards the stairs that lead you to the front door.

"this is the first time i'll get to meet chan's friends" she responded, making a grimace as she retracted "well, the second time, but i can barely remember the night at the bar"

"right"

right before she could continue talking, the front door opened and chan greeted you both. "ladies"

you bowed down to chan and ryujin immediately jumped into his arms, receiving a kiss in her cheek by the man himself "could you not?" you joked, watching chan's face turning bright red by the unexpected and euphoric physical contact.

"i missed him!" ryujin defended herself, locking her arms behind his neck.

"come in, y/n" he said, opening the door wider so you and ryujin could come in.

"who's the birthday boy?" you asked, your eyes scanning the insides of the house looking for any sign of changbin.

"it's jeongin's birthday" he said, proudly smiling like the father of an 8-year-old son "he's right there, at the couch. maybe you recall him from the bar"

you saw his face and immediatly remembered him. "yeah, the guy who just couldn't stop laughing"

"that's the one" chan said, standing right besides ryujin "let's go, let me introduce you to them"

*

the next hour was spent peacefully and you were almost thankful that ryujin begged you to come. jeongin, the birthday boy, was already drunk by 10:00 p.m. and kept making bad jokes that cracked everyone up. ryujin left with chan to god-knows-where and you were stucked with jisung and hyunjin at the living room, drinking ocasionally and having a good time.

"i remember you from the bar" jisung mumbled, getting closer to your ear as the music was already too loud. "i wanted to chat with you, but you disappeared quickly"

his breath smelled like cherries and alcohol as he was too close to you, but you couldn't complain. it was almost intoxicating in the best way possible.

"yeah i was not having a good time"

he smiled proudly "i'm sure i could have made it better"

a sarcastic chuckled escaped your lips as he placed a hand on his chest "you don't believe me?"

"i don't believe any man for that matter" you replied almost in a flirty way, not that you wanted to tho but the alcohol was already making you feel a tad extroverted.

"but i'm not any man" jisung whispered on your ear, making you feel goosebumps over the entirety of your body. before you could even say something back, he grabbed you by the hand and took you outside of the living room and into the patio, where a lot of people were gathered drinking and dancing.

"oh, i'm not good at dancing" you tried to escape, jisung holding you by one of your hands.

"you don't have to be good at dancing to enjoy it" he pouted, still convincing you to join him at the improvised dance floor that people made right at the center of the courtyard "c'mon y/n"

you were not too fond of dancing, but the music that was playing and jisung's insistence made you accept the offer. with small jumps of excitement he drove you to the crowd of people and started to move around you like a fool, inspiring you confidence to losen up a bit.

"i'm not used to this" you admit, moving your body to the sound of "criminal" by taemin, one of your favorite songs ever.

"there's always a first time for everything" he mumbled, his face dangerously close to yours "here"

his hands traveled to your waist and he held you closer to his body, feeling his soft and warm sking against the naked parts of your. "just let your body move with the music, it's not hard"

jisung's presence was extremely intoxicated and captivating, but not enough to keep you from notice changbin entering to courtyard.

and he wasn't alone.

your whole body tensed and you could feel how jisung stepped back a little bit. "did i do something wrong?"

you parted your gaze from changbin as soon as he saw your body pressed against him, and you gave a faint smile to jisung.

"no, i just felt shy for a moment"

he gave you a wide smile and continue to hold you even closer, your hips moving involuntary against his pelvic area and his eyes firmly fixed into you. "god, you are so precious"

"am i?" you asked, tilting your head to the side while dancing.

you could feel changbin's gazed nailed into your body and that was making you do stupid things. you wanted to make him feel jealous, for some reason, but using a man you just met wasn't something that would fit in your principles.

"mhm" he hummed, the movements of both of you getting slower as the song progressed. jisung's lips brushed softly against yours pratically begging for a kiss, but you knew that it was way too early for that.

you turned around on your place, your back now pressed to his chest, as you continued to dance against his body. his hands were glued to your waist and ocasionally would visit your hips, moving at the same rythm as you did. a different song was playing right now, but you didn't even noticed as your mind was flooded with thoughts. who was changbin with? was she his girlfriend? was he still there watching you? were you dancing with jisung just to piss him off? and most importantly, why did you feel the need to make him jealous in the first place?

before the trail of thoughts continued on your head, jisung's hand traveled from the tip of your fingers to your left shoulder, his fine digits dancing around your naked clavicles. "did i tell you that this dress looks amazing on you?"

his voice, the trace of his fingers and his scent made you act completely dumb around him, it was almost painful to watch. with a swift movement, you were now facing him again and kept on moving slowly. "i don't think so"

"well" he said, leaning one more time to leave a faint kiss on your lips "you look amazing on that dress"

and without expecting an answer from you, he kissed you.

his lips tasted exactly the same as his scent. the mixture of cherries, strawberries and alcohol intoxicated your five senses, making you unable to think about what you were doing. the kiss was everything except rushed, as if he was taking his time to taste every single inch of your lips and tongue. his hands were resting on your waist and lower back and the song that was now playing just fit the whole mood the both of you created, right until...

"do you mind?" a man's voice asked while you felt a grip on your forearm.

"give me a break man" jisung said, interrupting the kiss. it was no other than changbin, standing right in the middle of you and jisung.

"she is drunk" changbin said, almost in a threatening tone.

"i am not" you responded, trying to get out of changbin's grip.

"we are in the middle of something here" jisung insisted, trying to get between you and the grip changbin had on your arm.

"i'm not in the mood for a chat, han" his voice turned ten times deeper and his body language reminded you of that night at itaewon "i'm taking her home because he drank too much"

"let go off of me"

but he did not let go of you and continued dragging you across the whole courtyard and into the living room. "aren't you supposed to be with your girlfriend?"

you started to curse him openly, but he wouldn't slow down his pace. he took you out of the house and into his car without even saying a word.

"you are acting as if you were my owner" you grunted, looking for your phone inside of your purse "you just love to order me around, don't you?"

"that didn't seem to upset you at the bar and your house" he scoffed, his voice going completely cold as ice.

"you bringing that topic now is just miserable" you laughed as he started the car "i was about to enjoy a good night of fucking, something i never got to do with you because you are a coward"

changbin's jaw tensed up and you could feel how the car started to go faster.

the adrenaline of changbin's jealousy, the alcohol, jisung's taste and the speed of the car were making you feel particularly bold tonight, something you knew you would regret the morning after.

"why do you tense up?" you asked, teasing him "i know you wanted to fuck me so bad but still decided to not jeopardize your future for a night of sex"

you were not completely sure, but it was kind of obvious that changbin wasn't driving to your house. you tried to catch a glimpse of the street names as if that was going to be helpful to a foreigner, but it was too dark outside.

"you are not going to talk now?" you asked him, taking off your high-heels as your whole body rested on the car seat. "you were so bold a few minutes ago, trying to act like a fucking man intimidating jisung at chan's house. two nights of oral sex and i have that much of a grip on you, changbin?"

he wouldn't respond, and that only made your blood boil even more.

"you are so fucking pathetic" you muttered, looking directly at him as his gaze was completely fixed on the road.

the car took a sudden turn and parked right in front of a complex of apartments. without hesitation, he got out and opened the door for you, carrying you into his shoulder inside the elevator of the lobby.

the scene was pretty much awkward as you faced yourself into the elevator mirror. your hair was completely messed up and your lipstick was a bit smudged but other than that, you looked completely sober. not only that, but he knew that you weren't drunk. he just made that excuse.

the doors of the elevators opened on the 12th floor and you were glad that no one was waiting for it outside, otherwise they would've seen your ass on changbin's shoulder.

"you know i'm not drunk, right?" you said, still resting on his shoulders while he took his keys from the pocket of his black pants

"just shut the fuck up for a moment" he said, carrying you and leaving you standing inside of his apartment as he turned all the lights inside on.

"i knew your behavior as a gentleman was a fucking act and you only did that in front of your parents and arthur"

"you are so annoying" changbin whispered as he walked towards the black leather couch in the middle of the living room of his apartment. you followed him and walked right behind him.

"i don't have anything to do here, changbin" you mumbled, his back turned against you. you wanted to tease him, you needed to. for an unknown reason, you felt the sudden urge to make him mad, to make him explode. you needed things to escalate quickly so he would give you another reason for you to hate him even more "i can't believe i should be fucking with jisung right now but instead i'm-"

before you could finish that sentence, you felt changbin's grip on both sides of your neck "go on, keep on talking"

the lack of oxygen, the sudden movement of changbin against your body and his gaze flooded with anger made your legs tremeble "keep on fucking talking"

you could barely swallow by how hard his right hand was grasping onto your neck "look at you" you whispered with broken words, smirking as your eyes unconciously closed because of the pleasure "are you jealous, changbin?"

"why don't you answer the question, y/n?" he asked, his hold on your neck becoming softer as his lips approached your right ear "how did you felt when you saw me with that girl earlier today?"

an ironic laugh left your lips, trying to shield yourself from the obvious thing. "i don't know what game you are playing, changbin, but i didn't felt shit"

"really?" he hummed, his raspy voice near your ear made you squeeze your thighs together unconciously, and even though his hand was merely just resting on your neck, the arousal you felt from his grip was still there. "i know you saw me with her, and i could tell how that made you dance for jisung more... enthusiastically"

"you are wrong" you replied, pushing him slightly away "and pathetic, getting jealous when you were the one who cutted things off since the beginning"

"he is an asshole" changbin said with a mocking and sarcastic tone, his fingers tracing the naked skin of your arms as he licked his lips "and i must protect you, like arthur said. isn't that right?"

"he is a good kisser" you answered "i bet he fucks better than you too, not that i would know though because i never got to fuck with you"

changbin's eyes drifted from your skin to your eyes in a matter of miliseconds and for the first time in the evening you regretted saying something. "you are just begging for me to fuck you, aren't you?"

"don't get confused" you spitted "i don't want to have anything to do with you"

his hand traveled slowly to the end of your dress, lifting it up and reaching for your, now soaking, panties. his digits traced your slit and you swallowed hard in anticipation for whatever humiliating thing he was about to say. "are you sure?"

he removed his fingers from your core and were now glistening thanks to the light coming from the window of his apartment. "look at me and tell me that you don't want me to fuck you"

"look at me and tell me that you didn't felt jealous when you saw me with jisung" yo fired back, a faint smirk appearing on his face.

"i did" he admitted "i can't even begin to explain how mad i felt at the sight of your precious body pressing against his. all i wanted to do at that exact moment was to fuck you right in front of everybody, including him"

his hands toured to your back, unzipping the dress you were wearing as he looked directly into your eyes trying to decode if you actually wanted this or not.

"i know what i said last week" changbin mumbled, his fingers helping you to drag the straps on your dress all the way to your wrists "but your existence is fucking me up"

your heart started to beat even faster, your breath accelerated "and it wasn't until i saw you with someone else where i realized that i needed to make you completely mine, even just once"

you soon found yourself in your underwear right in front of him, his eyes looking at you up and down several times making you feel intimidated. you had two options: loose your self-control for the third time and do something that you truly wanted to, or leave his apartment feeling proud.

but you already made that choice when you didn't fought back enough to stop him from driving you to his place.

"please ruin me" you whispered, your soul immersed in arousal, guilt and regret.

[wlntrsldler]

paper rings (o.w one shot)

Hii! I've just read your Oliver fic and it's amazing. I need more, and I don't know if your requests are open but if they're, can you write something for him with a slytherin!reader. Maybe they're are some kind of rivals, but end up becoming friends and then lovers. Thank you!!

Hi again haha! I was the one requesting something for Oliver, can you add or based it on paper rings by taylor swift? Like the part where she sings “i hate accidents except when we went from friends to this” 🤍

PROMPT: based on paper rings by taylor swift. Oliver and Y/N never got to know each other when they were in Hogwarts— years later, they finally do. 

WC: 4.2K+ (im sorry)

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

-

paper rings (o.w one shot)

It seemed that life never meant for you and Oliver Wood to become a part of each other’s lives. You were a year below him at Hogwarts and by the time you entered as a first year, Oliver had already established his hatred for the rival house of Gryffindor— Slytherin, which just happened to be the house you got sorted in. Over the years, neither of you really went out of your way to become friends with each other. In fact, the only time Oliver saw you outside of shared classes was when Gryffindor played against Slytherin, which your boyfriend— or ex-boyfriend— Cassius Warrington was the chaser for. 

Oliver knew very little about you and he was never kept up at night by the thought of you. You weren’t really a popular student either. He didn’t even know your name. In his defense, his Hogwarts years were centered purely on Quidditch. You were just the girl he occasionally bumped into in the hallways while he was trying to do last minute revisions for their game plans. Or the girl who happened to check out the exact book he needed to write an essay for Snape. Or the girl he saw occupying the same seat in the Slytherin stands during the Gryffindor versus Slytherin matches.

It wasn’t until three years after the end of the war did Oliver finally meet you— officially. He decided to come back and give a summer camp opportunity for Hogwarts Quidditch players, a request from Professor McGonagall. Oliver thought his return to Hogwarts was long overdue, missing the grounds where he got his first real shot at playing Quidditch. You were hired by Professor Flitwick, the same summer that Oliver was asked to come back to Hogwarts, to take over Potions, as it was always your strongest class during your years. After a few years as a Healer, you realized that teaching was your calling and since then, you’ve pestered the Hogwarts staff to allow you to teach on campus until they finally caved.

When you arrived that summer, you were expecting to be greeted by an empty castle, with the exception of the house elves and a few professors. You weren’t expecting a group of thirty students of all ages lined up on the Quidditch Pitch. 

As you dropped your bags on the steps leading up to your room, you turned to Professor Flitwick, “What’s that all about? I thought students were out of the castle around this time?”

He ushered you to continue going up, “They are, typically, but Professor McGonagall invited an old student to help some kids with their Quidditch skills. You know her and Quidditch, big fan, she is.” 

You hummed in agreement, the explanation enough for you to drop the subject. You found yourself watching the students fly around on their brooms, thinking about how it didn’t seem so long ago since you watched your own classmates doing so. You vividly remember wrapping yourself up in your house colors, cheering on Cassius, but knowing deep down you wanted the other team to win. You were never a fan of the dirty plays of the Slytherin house. 

You were so caught up in a daydream that you didn’t notice a bludger flying rapidly towards your opened window. Your eyes widened in fear, anticipating the painful impact. However, it never came. A flash of colors blocked the bludger from hitting your window. When you finally got enough courage to look at what saved you from the bludger that could’ve taken you out, you saw a boy sitting on his broom, a beater bat in hand. His face was turned away from you, his features unable to be seen in the angle he was facing. 

“Thank you,” you squeaked, clearing your throat once you realized you were out of harm’s way.

The boy turned around, flashing a concerned look to you. He looked oddly familiar. You were sure you’ve seen him before. He eyed you up and down, grinning when he realized you were safe. He rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, “Sorry bout that, miss. These kids are out of practice it seems. Didn’t think they’d need this much help.” 

You returned his smile, leaning against your desk, “Well, that’s why you’re here, innit?” 

“That’s true,” he smiled. He flew closer to your window, extending his hand, “Oliver Wood.” 

You looked down at his shirt, not missing the emblem of Puddlemere United sewn proudly on his chest. You grasped his hand in yours, “Y/N Y/L/N.” 

“Say, did you go to Hogwarts?” he asked, titling his head to the side as if trying to figure out if he’d seen you before.

“I did. Bit offended that you don’t remember me, Mr. Star Gryffindor Keeper,” you teased.

“Sorry, I was a bit oblivious to anything not Quidditch related back in school,” he said, sheepishly. Then his eyebrows shot up in realization, “You’re Cassius Warrington’s girlfriend, aren’t you?” 

“I was, yes.” 

“Was?” Oliver asked, emphasizing your usage of the past tense. 

“Was,” you confirmed. 

Before he could speak again, he was interrupted by the sound of students arguing on the Quidditch Pitch. He let out a defeated sigh and brought the whistle that was dangling from his neck, up to his lips. A shrieking sound caught the students’ attention and they immediately fell in line. 

He turned his attention to you, “I would love to hear the story behind that but unfortunately, I have students to take care of. Will you be down for dinner?”

You nodded in response, making him raise a thumb up and watched him fly back down to the group of clamoring students. As you began to unpack your belongings, you couldn’t help but keep looking over your shoulder to watch Oliver coach the students of various houses. You laughed as he got into a playful argument with one of the Slytherin students who insisted that Puddlemere United was a terrible team. You could tell that Oliver didn’t really take much offense to it, knowing that at the end of the day he was just glad to be playing for such an elite team. 

It didn’t take long for the sun to set, an indication that dinner was now being served. You happily made your way down the familiar hallways leading up to the Great Hall. You greeted the various house elves that remembered you from your Hogwarts years and stopped to talk to some young students who were still too scared to talk to the professors on their own. 

“I’m going to be one of your professors next year, you know,” you said, walking beside an upcoming second year. “What house are you in?” 

“Gryffindor,” he replied, his voice a bit shaky, “Though, I don’t think the sorting hat made the right decision. I’m too scared to talk to professors on my own, how cowardly is that! I’m not a true Gryffindor.” 

“Hey, the sorting hat makes no mistakes,” you reassured him, nudging him a bit, “You were sorted into Gryffindor for a reason, okay? Don’t doubt yourself.” 

“I suppose,” he sighed, still defeated, “I just wish I was more like Oliver Wood. He’s a true Gryffindor. Plus, he’s such an amazing Quidditch player! I want to be just like him!” 

You laughed, opening the door to the Great Hall and allowing him to go inside, “I guess he’s alright.” 

“Alright?!” the boy shrieked, eyes bulging out of their sockets, “I’m sorry Professor Y/L/N but Oliver Wood is more than alright.” 

“Whatever you say,” you shrugged, walking over to Professor McGonagall to accompany the boy. Once you knew the boy would be alright in his conversation with the professor, you made your way over to the table with the rest of the faculty. 

You sat on the corner of the table, waiting patiently for a certain Quidditch star to make his way over to you. He was too preoccupied talking to another Professor, most likely about Puddlemere United as she kept motioning to his shirt. Oliver met your eyes and he sent a friendly wave, signaling that he’ll be there in just a second. You waved him off, starting to fill your plate with some food. 

“Hello, Y/N,” Oliver greeted, pulling up a seat beside you, “Sorry for the wait.” 

“No worries,” you moved your plate to make some space for him. You took a bite of the steamed vegetables you had on your fork, “I should consider myself lucky that you even made time for me when all these students idolize you.” 

He blushed, chuckling at your comment, “I wouldn’t say idolize.”

“Respect?” you offered, sipping from your cup.

“Definitely not respect,” he shook his head, grimacing. “Tolerate, maybe?” 

“That’s fair.” 

“So, what brings you back to Hogwarts?” 

You looked out into the Great Hall, watching the students chat and eat with their friends. The students were still divided by house, despite being there for the summer, “I realized teaching was my passion so I decided to pursue it here.”

“Godric, I don’t know how you do it,” Oliver confessed, taking a big bite of the chicken he piled on his plate, “It’s my first day with these kids and they’re driving me mad.” 

“That’s because you’re teaching Quidditch players,” you said. He furrowed his eyebrows, silently asking you to elaborate. You rolled your eyes, “I forgot you’re like the worst of them! Quidditch players are stubborn and headstrong. It’s hard to get anything through the thick skulls of yours.” 

“Hey,” Oliver warned, though there was a teasing tone to his voice, “Not all of us are stubborn.” 

“Weren’t you the same boy who had a full on argument with Professor McGonagall when she cancelled Quidditch?” 

“I can’t believe you remember that after all these years,” he muttered, the tips of his ears turning red from embarrassment, “I will say that was not my finest moment.” 

“How about the time you guys lost a match to Hufflepuff and you had a very dramatic moment in the showers?”

“How do you know about that?” he groaned, hiding his face behind his hands.

You let out a hearty laugh, opting to put your cup down instead of drinking from it, “News spreads fast, Wood. But not to worry, those are the only things I remember from our years at school.” 

“Good,” he sighed, taking another bite. “I wish I had dirt on you too but the only thing I remember was that you were dating the Chaser from Slytherin and you’re a Slytherin yourself, I believe, so by proxy, you’re an enemy of mine.” 

“Aren’t we a bit too old for house rivalries?” 

“Never,” Oliver winked. He cleared his throat, looking down at his plate, “Speaking of, what happened between you and Warrington, if you don’t mind me asking.” 

“I don’t mind at all,” you responded. You swirled the food on your plate with the tip of your fork, thinking back to your failed relationship, “Let’s just say we chose different sides when it came down to it.” 

“Ah,” he nodded, understandingly. “Are you busy until term starts?” 

“Depends on why you’re asking. If you’re going to offer for me to join you in Quidditch, then yes, I am busy,” you shuddered, remembering the last time you were on a broom. 

Oliver chuckled, “Well, no. I was wondering if you wanted to go out to Hogsmeade some time, if you weren’t busy.”

You blushed, looking down at your lap, “I’d love to.” 

He mimicked your actions, the blush returning to his cheeks, “Brilliant. This weekend okay with you?” 

-

“Do you ever get tired of people asking for your autograph?” you asked, kicking a stray rock from the walkway. You were on your way to Hogsmeade with Oliver when a few teenagers rushed over to gush about the Quidditch player. 

“Never,” he grinned, his hands stuffed in his front pockets. His eyes gleamed with proudness, no doubt ecstatic about his success, “I’ve always wanted to be an athlete that kids could look up to, you know? I want to be a good role model so I’m always happy to sign a few things here and there. If it bothers you, I’ll tell them off, if you want.”

Quickly, you shook your head, “No, no. I don’t mind at all. I was just wondering. Your life has changed a lot since Hogwarts then?” 

Oliver whistled, raising his eyebrows, “Yeah, you can say that. The war took its toll on everyone and they wanted to escape so they turned to Quidditch. The sport has never been this popular before.” 

You nodded, understanding. You gulped before asking your next question, “Did you lose anyone?” 

“Almost,” Oliver admitted, tilting his head over to the direction of a bench, away from the entrance to Hogsmeade. You followed his lead, sitting beside him, knees touching. He continued, “Weasley. Fred, you remember him?” 

You hummed, a pang of pain hitting your chest, “Yeah, I do.” 

“Nearly died, that git,” a sad smile grazed his features. His voice began to crack and you immediately placed a comforting hand on his arm. “A wall fell on him and he wasn’t breathing for a bit. Thought we lost him but he pulled through. Thank Merlin he did.”

“How’s he now?” 

“Better, I think,” he smiled— genuinely this time. “Visited their shop before I got here. Their joke shop on Diagon Alley, have you heard of it?” 

“Yeah, I have. Those two were always brilliant when it came to that, weren’t they?” 

“Too brilliant for their own good. Say, did you guys ever figure out that they were the cause of Slytherin’s many misfortunes?” 

You raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smile tugging on your lips, “Who do you think let them into Slytherin chambers?”

“You were their secret conspirator?!” Oliver exclaimed, shocked but impressed that you would help the two troublemakers terrorize your own house, “Godric! Why did you help them?”

“Not many people know this but I’m Muggleborn and my house wasn’t the kindest to me,” you cleared your throat, thinking back to the horrible days in Hogwarts once the Dark Lord’s followers became braver, “They only left me alone when I was with Cassius but obviously, when it came down to the real thing, he ended up just like the rest of them.” 

You felt a hand grip yours. You stared at Oliver’s thumb, drawing circles on the top of your hand. When you looked up, you saw he was staring at your intertwined fingers, as if trying to figure out what to say to your sudden confession. 

After a few beats of silence, you decided to continue speaking, “The twins saved me from being terrorized once in my fifth year. I was a year older than them but they had more courage than I ever did. I made a mistake, honestly it was an accident in an assignment. The guy I was paired with was cursing my name and calling me some nasty things and Fred and George stepped in and hexed the bloke. Got them like a month of detention but they never, ever, complained about it. Lost touch with them after I graduated.” 

“I didn’t know you knew them that well,” he replied, leaning back but not moving his hand away from yours. 

“I don’t,” you chuckled, looking at him, “We weren’t really friends, per se, but when they needed help, I was there. Same goes for me. I think it was just unspoken between the three of us, if that makes sense. But like I said, after I graduated, I lost touch with everyone from school. Muggleborns were targeted so I just tried to keep my head down. Didn’t even know about what happened to him until you said it just now.” 

Oliver paled, “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

You shook your head, squeezing his hand for comfort, “Not your fault. Glad to hear he’s doing better. I don’t think the world would continue turning without Fred Weasley.” 

“I second that,” he laughed, getting up and pulling you with him, “Now, I’m in the mood for some Butterbeer and I would love your company. You alright with that?” 

“It’s like you read my mind.” 

As you walked to the entrance to Hogsmeade, Oliver piped up, “You should come visit their shop. They’re doing really well.” 

You pondered it for a moment, unconsciously leaning against his shoulder, “You reckon they still remember me?” 

“Hard to believe someone would forget you,” he mumbled, eyes widening when he realized he spoke out loud. You looked down at your feet, a blush coating your cheeks. Oliver mirrored your expression, the tips of his ears turning beet red, once again. He cleared his throat, “I reckon they’ll be over the moon to see you.” 

“I’ll go if you come with me,” you looked up at him, hopefully. You didn’t miss the small smile on his lips and the way his eyes twinkled when he looked down at you, practically leaning on his broad chest.

“Then it’s settled, we’ll hit Diagon Alley before term starts.” 

-

The rest of the time that you and Oliver were in Hogwarts, you spent most of your time together. It became evident to the rest of the professors and even some of the students that there was something going on between the two of you. Everyone knew of it. 

Everyone except you. And Oliver. 

You spent your days looking at the Quidditch player longingly, acting like you were a lovestruck student. You lost your senses whenever Oliver came around— stumbling over your words, blushing furiously when your hands brushed, or laughing too loud for too long over one of his terrible jokes. Some students have tried to get you two together by staging run-ins or inviting you to their Quidditch practices where the kids would purposely mess up just so Oliver could swoop in and show off his skills. It left you breathless, much to your dismay and the students’ excitement. They wouldn’t admit it either but sometimes they’d engage in very, rough plays that would result in Oliver getting a scratch or two so that he was forced to come see you to heal his wounds, as you were a trained Healer. 

Now, it was the final day of the summer camp and you were going to board Hogwarts Express with the students and Oliver. You both decided to visit Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes later that day. You had three weeks before the term started for the school year and before you were going to be an official Hogwarts professor. 

You plopped down on one of the seats, leaning your head against the window. It brought you back to the days when you were a student, waiting eagerly to arrive at Hogwarts to embark on whatever adventure was laid out for you. Oliver sat across from you after putting his trunk in the bin above you. 

He nudged your foot with his, “You’re about to be a professor in a few weeks. How’s it feel?” 

You grimaced a bit, “Nerve wracking? I dunno… I feel like I’m not ready.” 

“Nonsense,” Oliver said, “I’ve watched you with the kids. Quidditch players too, the worst of the lot according to you, and you were fantastic. They’ll love you.” 

“They only liked me because I know the famous Oliver Wood.” 

“Knock it off,” he rolled his eyes, smiling playfully at you. He got up and situated himself beside you, “Stop it. Take credit for your greatness. You’re going to be an incredible professor.” 

You turned red because of his praise. You cleared your throat, unsure if you would be able to handle anymore of his compliments, “What about you Quidditch star? Excited to be back on the pitch?”

He nodded, “Very, but I will miss Hogwarts and the kids. Didn’t think I’d get attached to them but here I am. It felt good to be back there, you know? But I feel like I’ve seen it in a new light now that I’m older.” 

“Ah yes, the old and wise Oliver Wood,” you teased, resting your head on him. 

He immediately wrapped his arm around you, wanting to feel you closer to him, “Oh, shut up.”

You remained silent. You didn’t know if it was the right time to say something but you couldn’t deny the feelings that flourished over the span of time that you got to know Oliver. It was hard not to fall for him— charismatic, talented, patient, brave, and not to mention, handsome. He was funny and kept you on your toes with his energy and youthfulness. He had a moral compass that steered him to the right thing, every single time, without fail. He was sure of himself but not cocky or arrogant, but so secure in what he wants himself to be— both career wise and personally. Oliver Wood was not someone you simply meet. He was someone you had to experience because letting him slip past your fingers was a crime on its own. 

You sighed softly, burying your face in the warmth of his thin jumper. You felt his heart thumping against your cheek and his thumb caressing your back. 

His chest rumbled from under you as he spoke, “What’s on your mind, darling?”

In a surge of confidence, you replied, “I’ll miss you.” 

You could feel him melt. He wrapped his arms tighter around you, as if you would keep him from completely falling apart. Oliver was hesitant at first. His lips ghosted over the top of your head and you could feel him retreating a few times before he let himself kiss you. You let out a breath of satisfaction when you felt his warm lips touch your crown and his mumbled words engulfed by your skin. 

You didn’t hear what he said so you pulled away, ready to ask him to repeat it, “Pardon?”

Oliver looked at you, his eyes empty except for one glimmer that you’ve never seen before. A sad smile made its way to the lips that was once on your skin, before he shook his head, “Nothing, love. We’ll write, won’t we?”

“I’d be disappointed if we didn’t.”

“Well, I couldn’t live with myself if I disappointed you.”

“Oliver…” you trailed off, pushing yourself off of him for a minute. You cursed under your breath when you missed his touch as soon as you pulled away. 

His eyebrows furrowed, confusion evident on his face, “What’s wrong?” 

“Do you ever think our friendship—” You stopped for a moment when that word slipped past your lips, not realizing how painful it was to admit that you two were nothing more than friends. You failed to notice the grimace that danced upon Oliver’s face as he wished, more than anything, for you to be more than his friend. 

You continued, “—was an accident? I mean, we had what? 6 years at Hogwarts and didn’t once talk to each other? What were the odds that we’d be at Hogwarts the same time years after we graduated and after a bloody war and get to know each other in a few weeks better than we ever did in 6 years?” 

“If there’s one thing I learned, life is unpredictable, Y/N,” Oliver said, looking directly at you. “I signed up to help kids play Quidditch for a summer. I didn’t think that I would meet you, but I thank my lucky stars that I did. I always associated the word accident with something horrible but if this— if we— were an accident, then so be it. But it’s a happy accident… at least I think so.” 

You gulped, slowly inching over to him. Your hands were shaking and it wasn’t because it suddenly felt so cold in the compartment where you sat. It was because you were getting closer to Oliver Wood— so impossibly close, you could feel his breath tickling your lips. He didn’t make any moves to push you away. He just nudged your nose with his and let his eyes drop slowly, until he saw only fireworks behind his eyelids and felt nothing else but the feeling of your sweet lips on his. Oliver pulled your body as close to his as possible and kissed you so passionately, you swore you forgot how to breathe. 

When the two of you finally pulled away, both of your eyes were still closed, afraid that once you opened them, the other would be nothing but a fragment of your imagination. But when your eyes fluttered open, you saw a sheepish Oliver Wood, flushed red in his cheeks, smiling at you like a little boy on Christmas Day. Your shaking hand was engulfed by his stable one, warmth and belonging coursing through your body. It felt right. 

His voice sliced through the love-hazed air, “I hope that wasn’t an accident.” 

“I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this,” you confessed, leaning in to kiss him again. Before you connected your lips, you spoke, “I fancy you, Oliver Wood. If that wasn’t obvious enough.” 

“I fancy you, too, Y/N Y/L/N,” Oliver responded, placing a quick kiss to your lips. He pulled away, cupping your face in his palm. His lips brushed yours, “If that wasn’t obvious enough.”

**NO LONGER DOING TAGS

[aturinfortheworse]

continuing in the trend of most of my creative projects - i am drafting a pattern for a kind of skirt that ive never seen before, probably because there's no good reason for it to exist. i have spuriously practical justifications for this but the real reason is that its fun.

all i know at the start is that the top has to fit around my waist and the bottom should be near my ankles.

thats it.

when i start trying to work out the pattern i do not even know the shape of the pieces.

maths, especially when applied to real world problems, has a kind of eldritch quality for me. it is alluring and mysterious and just beyond the reach of what my mortal brain can comprehend

but ive failed high school maths twice, which is often enough to have remembered some stuff. and i do know some other things about the skirt. I know that most skirts are bigger at one end than the other. I know that I want the seams to be straight lines. I know that I have a ruler. So I draw a trapezoid.

I spend a good (meaning here both entire and enjoyable) hour working out what length the bottom edge of the trapezoid should be. I can't measure it bc I haven't drawn it to scale - bc I don't know what the bottom edge should be.

I divide it into triangles and rectangles, bc those are the shapes I can work with.

I get enough information out of this monster to calculate the angles of the blue triangle, which tells me the angles of the GREEN triangle, which lets me calculate its edges which gives me the edges of the trapezoid.

The answer is 65!

I show this to a friend and he's like "The bottom of the triangle increases linearly with distance - so 58/110 = 5/y then x = 45 + 2y."

I, briefly, see a glimpse of the fundamental machinery of the universe. I'm looking through the eyes of an entity so vast and perfect that even this brief reflection of its sight makes me want to rearrange my life in pursuit of it.

Why the fuck am I making stuff? I have, at the outside, if medicine gets really good and my liver continues to hold the line, maybe ninety years left in which to do things. I have to dedicate every fucking second of it to learning about maths, I decide.

I realize I don't know how to turn that algebra into an answer. I definitely could work it out - I was almost okay at algebra! - but the clock is ticking on my one precious human life so I ask him for the answer.

It's 64.

Close enough! I know all the things! I can cut out the skirt!

It occurs to me to just quickly (one precious human life slipping through my fingers) just quickly check that hem length against an actual skirt. I realize that I'm actually pretty much just making a half circle skirt, albeit in two pieces.

The triangles are now irrelevant. The hem length is insane. I have invented the world's worst hobble skirt. Precious human life to live, skirt to make, maths degree to enroll in - I move on.

What I REALLY need, I tell myself, is half of a half-circle skirt.

Picture a flat circle of fabric. Cut a circle out of the center, the size of your waist. Put it on so the waist bit is on your waist. That's a circle skirt.

A half-circle skirt is the same thing, except that you have to cut a circle (your waist) out of a semi-circle (the skirt.) That complicates things a little, but there are calculators for whatever-fraction-of-a-circle skirts. You give them waist circumference and skirt length, they give you waist radius and fabric length.

But I want the measurements for a shape that is half of a half-circle. That might be the same as quarter circle skirt? I'm not a visual thinker and I'm having fun learning about maths, so I discard that possibility.

What do I need? I ask myself.

I don't know the answer, so I make a NEW diagram.

I realize that what I need is Y, which is X+110.

What I have is a quarter of a circle with a bit missing.

But quarter circles make right angles and that 40-cm-edge is basically a hypotenuse, right? What is a quarter-circle if not basically a triangle? If I find the other angles of the "triangle," I can find the other edge lengths.

How the fuck do you find the angle of a corner where a curve intersects a straight line? I ask myself. But that's coming at things backwards. Really the question is What can I do with the information I have?

I know that 213 is 1/4 the circumference of a circle. The 40-cm-curve is parallel to the circumference of that circle. Maybe the angles are the same for the curve as they are for the circle?

But I'm not convinced 213 is the right number, and that seems Very Important, so I go through my notes and make sure I've calculated the right circumference.

Waist measurement eighty, skirt length 110, half-circle skirt calculator, radius, circumference... wait, what was that first one again?

Forty and eighty and half all collide in my head and I finally realize that forty is half of the circumference of my waist. Because a curve that runs parallel to a circle is a fucking circle.

Well, that was a stupid mistake, I say. Maybe I shouldn't dedicate my life to uncovering the hidden mechanisms of the universe. I'll spend the rest of eternity distracted by the crankshaft of the infinite. And I still won't have a good winter skirt.

But I've got it all sorted out now. I just need the radius of my waist measurement. And my this is a quarter of a circle, so 40*4=160 cm circumference, chuck that in the calculator, radius of 25, all good!

The most complicated piece of math I actually needed to do was radius+110. Oh well, no harm done, no fabric cut. I'll take a break and tell tumblr about it.

And then I write the post and I realize that I found the radius of a 160cm circle which is still, notably, not my waist.

[something-fanfiction-ie]

24 Hours

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: You get buried alive and uhm... I think a curse word or two?

A/N: So, before you notice, yes this is largely based on season two episode nine of Bones, Aliens in the Spaceship. Also, yes this is a criminal minds imagine and yes I’ve hopelessly and irrevocably fallen in love with Matthew Gray Gubler. Please like, comment, reblog, and send me asks, I love that shit. Also, if you’ve never seen criminal minds, you should watch it. Even if only for Dr. Spencer Reid aka Matthew Gray Gubler. You’re welcome in advance.

___

“Hey Spenny, I’m going out to get some coffee. Do you want anything?” Your voice echoed around in Spencer’s head, the image of you waving at him from the door as you walked away imprinted into his mind. Would it be the last time he would ever see you?

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N) has been buried alive,” Hotchner stood in the front of the room with Spencer’s phone on speaker. The whole team sat around the table with varying degrees of horror displayed on their faces as the realization dawned on them, “Wire transfer five million dollars to the following Grand Cayman account.” Spencer buried his head in his hands, his fingers tangling into his hair.

Your eyes were on him as you waved over your shoulder, stepping through the door with just a glance and a smile. He kept playing it through his mind in slow motion. Now you were underground, running out of air and running out of time.

“Upon receipt of the wire transfer, I will provide you with Agent (Y/L/N)’s GPS coordinates. You have 24 hours. This will be my last communication.” The BAU jumped into action, people pulling the files from the previous abductions and swapping theories.

“Where in the hell are we going to get five million dollars? The FBI has a strict policy about not paying ransoms.” Morgan slammed a fist on the table, gritting his teeth as his mind raced.

“Her parents.” Spencer looked up, pulling himself out of his head. He needed to be actively helping. They had twenty four hours and sitting at the table with his head in his hands wouldn’t help anything.

Pushing away from the table, the young doctor stood up to look at Agent Hotchner.

“When her parents died they left everything to her. She’s never touched it, said it felt too much like blood money.” Hotchner nodded, looking across the room to Garcia who looked as shell shocked as Spencer felt. Not only had her dear friend been abducted and buried alive, but she had been telling secrets about her parents to Reid and not her?!

“Garcia I need you to find out who she banks with, JJ get them on the phone and see what you can do. If we can pay the ransom we will. If not, we’ll have to figure where she is.” Both women nodded, rushing back to Garcia’s office. The remaining agents started to map the location of every burial site.

“Well, at least we know she’s in Virginia.”

...

When you woke up, rolling into the leather backseat in you car, your brain felt like it was exploding. Your entire body ached, and for a minute, too focused on the pain, you didn’t realize where you were.

It hurt to sit up, to breathe, to look around, and when your brain connected every dot it hurt to think.

“I’ve been buried alive.” You said it aloud, staring at the rocks and dirt that pressed against every window. Thinking felt like walking through sludge, but why?

You’d been working on a case. Four victims in four months, all buried alive, all coming from wealthy backgrounds. Every victim varied in age, race, and sex. It appeared you were number five. There would be a call, maybe two hours after you’d been buried. It would be the only means of communication, there would be a high ransom.

None of this information could help you though. You were underground, what is around you, (Y/N)?

In your glove compartment was a small digital camera, a pen, and some napkins. In your center console was a bottle of water, a small tube of sunscreen, and some loose change. Your phone was on the floor but the battery had been taken out, and sitting in the backseat was a box with a book delicately placed inside.

A first edition copy of Sonnets from the Portuguese, the pages yellowed with age. To just anyone, it was an old book with some poems inside, but you knew that Spencer would understand the moment he opened the box. Elizabeth Barrett Browning had written the series of sonnets to her husband as they were courting. Inside was a poem you had confessed to Spencer was your absolute favorite.

“I’m kind of a cliche hopeless romantic,” you laughed, afraid to look at him for the fear that he would think you were just a silly girl. “But my favorite poem is How Do I Love Thee?”

“By Elizabeth Barrett Browning?” When you looked at him, his expression hadn’t changed from that of a simple curiosity. You relaxed a little, glad to reveal the intimate detail about yourself without backlash.

You had spent such a long time trying to bury the persona of a teenage hopeless romantic underneath the facade that you were only concerned for logic, knowledge, and psychology. You’d never understood why wanting to love and be loved made you any less intelligent.

“I’ve dedicated that poem to the man I hope to marry one day.” A small smile twitched at the edges of his lips as you looked down at your nails, picking at the dirt underneath them. Your face felt like it was on fire. Why had you told him that?

In an uncharacteristic display of affection, Spencer reached across the divide between your desks and put his hand over yours. He squeezed, his expression gentle when you met his gaze.

“He will be a lucky man.”

Tears pricked at the back of your eyes at the thought of Spencer. Would you ever see him again? Would you even be alive in twenty-four hours?

Panic seemed to take control, propelling forward. You screamed, crying hysterically as you pounded against the windows.

“Help me! I’m in here! Please!” You didn’t stop until your hands were bruised, not caring about the amount of oxygen it had taken from your already limited supply. After the panic came a numbness that spread through your body and mind. You weren’t sure how long you stayed staring into your hands, sitting cross-legged in the front seat, but when you finally came back to yourself you knew you had to truly fight.

Gathering everything you’d found in your car, you started to think of what you could do. A camera, a phone, a pen, a napkin, some change, a book, sunscreen, a bottle of water.

Think, (Y/N), think. What is around you?

“Dirt.” Then you gasped, scrambling back to the front of the car. Using the window crank, you let bits of the dirt fall inside before rolling the window back up and grabbing a handful.

Just by looking you could tell there was ash, a couple of sniffs told you there was nitrogen and sulfur. You spit into the dirt. Coal rich soil. But that was all of Virginia, that didn’t tell you anything.

Think, (Y/N), think.

A camera, a phone, a pen, a napkin, some change, a book, sunscreen, a bottle of water. A camera, a phone, a pen, a napkin, some change, a book, sunscreen, a bottle of water.

“That’s it!” Carefully, you shifted the dirt to the top of the center console. Mixing a dab of sunscreen into the dirt, you powered on the camera and grabbed the pen which, conveniently, had a laser on the end.

Just like that you knew where you were. You just had to find a way to tell the others.

...

“We can’t get the money from the bank, she has it completely closed off from anyone touching any of that money. They won’t even tell us how much she has.” JJ ran her fingers through her hair, turned in her chair to face the team that had gathered into Garcia’s office.

“It was a long shot anyways, you typically have to have your name on the bank account to be able to withdraw any money.” Hotchner looks to the rest of the agents clustered next to him, hoping that one of them would have something.

“Did we get anything from the geographic profile?” He made direct eye contact with Reid, watching as he stepped forward and nodded for Garcia to pull up a map. Red lines popped up at each of the four crime scenes, connecting to the location the victim lived. Salem to Lovingston. Stuart to Winchester. Boydton to Marion. Louisa to Yorktown.

“Each of the burial sites is two to four hours away from where the victims lived which would put (Y/N) in this general vicinity.” Using his finger, Reid circles an area on the map around Quantico. No one mentions the shaking of his hand.

“There’s nothing else to narrow down the search.” His voice cracks at the end and no one can meet his eyes. JJ flinches at the sound, tightening her hand around the edge of the desk. It isn’t until Hotch goes to send the team back to work that a chime breaks the silence in the room.

Reid scrambles for his phone, fishing it out of his pocket and flipping it open.

“Who is it from? The Gravedigger? What did he say?” Everyone crowds around him, trying to get a peak at the message.

“It’s from (Y/N).”

6 7 16 M1.4

“What the hell does that mean?” Penelope says.

...

You’re not sure how long its been, but you can feel the oxygen getting low. Your eyes feel heavy, like you’re tired, and if you move just a little too fast the world shifts and sways like you’re on a boat.

After hot wiring the phone to the car, you’d leaned against the horn and typed the shortest message you could as fast as possible. When the phone sparked and died, you weren’t even sure if the messsge had gone through. You could only hope.

For now, you’ve crawled into the back, opening the book to read through it. If you’re going to die, at least you can read your favorite poems one more time. With every sonnet comes a memory of Spencer.

“Actually,” Spencer begins, stepping forward to point out something no one had even thought of, gesturing between pictures and referencing something only he could see in his mind. You’d worked a couple of cases with the team at this point, getting to know each individual who sat at this table with you.

Spencer turned back to the group and there it was, for just a fraction of a second he looked at all the older people at the table like a little boy looking for acceptance and recognition. Looking for approval. Your heart flipped over itself and your crossed your arms, hoping this wasn’t the start of a silly crush.

You flip to the next sonnet, reading it in a whisper as another memory hits you.

“I’m scared, Spencer.” You met his eyes, heart hammering in your chest as JJ strapped a mic to your bra strap. You were going undercover in an attempt to lure out the unsub, and although you knew every single one of your team members would be ready to have your back at a moments notice, you couldn’t shake the fear.

“Why?” It wasn’t harsh the way he said it, looking at you from the desk he was sitting on as JJ stepped away and out of the room to give the two of you some privacy. You started to button up your shirt, trying to breathe away the shaking of your hands.

“I’m afraid something is going to go wrong. That I’ll say or do something that will tip him off and he’ll kill me.” Spencer stepped forward, not touching you but looking into your eyes as you smoothed your hands down your sides.

“I’ll be there before he has the chance. I’ll take that shot. But I don’t believe I’ll have to do that because I know you have the ability to do this without a hitch. You’ve got this.” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to be okay. He wouldn’t let them send you in if you didn’t give him the okay. You could see that in the way he positioned himself between you and the door, ready to take the brunt of any frustration in order for you to feel safe.

“Okay. I trust you.”

And you did trust him. That’s why you were saving your last trick, waiting for him to put together the last of the puzzle piece he needed in order to save you. Spencer was going to find you, you had no doubt.

You just weren’t sure if you would survive the trick or not.

...

“Six, seven, sixteen, M, one point four.” Spencer stood staring at the board where they had copied the text, going over every possible meaning he could think of.

A book? No.

A math problem? No.

Coordinates? No.

Theories were being thrown across the room at rapid fire, everyone trying to think of the meaning to the cryptic message. They were all still huddled into Garcia’s office, so the voices echoed and bounced around the room.

“She’s been down there for fourteen hours, we’ve got nothing! She’s already running out of oxygen, I’m honestly starting to doubt it means anything.” Derek passed a hand over his face, patting at his cheeks as his eyes grew heavy.

“No. She’s highly intelligent and extremely resourceful, the message means something but wh-” Reid froze. In his mind he could see the periodic table.

“What is it, Reid?” Gideon looked at him, watching as his brain started to fly.

“Garcia pull up a map of Virginia.” She did as she was told, pulling up the map with one point in Quantico.

“Six on the periodic table is carbon, seven is nitrogen, sulfur is sixteen. She’s telling us the dirt she’s in.” Quick to catch on, Garcia zoomed the map onto coal rich soil in Virginia. It wasn’t enough.

“Coal can’t be distinguished by mineral composition, it’s all the same. However, macerals are unique in that they flouresce at different levels. In this case, 1.4, which is rare. It only occurs when there are high concentrations of inertinite.” The map zoomed, Penelope’s fingers flying across the keys as Spencer spoke.

“Got her.”

...

Settling your napkin letter atop the book, you nestled the lid to the gift box back on top. You tied the bow tight before tucking the whole thing into the waistband of your jeans. There was no guarantee it would make it, there was no guarantee you would make it, but you had waited long enough.

Grabbing both ends of the wires you’d stripped, you climbed into the back, hands shaking at the thought of what you were about to do.

“I’m scared.” You said. You heard Spencer, saw him leaning against a window seal in your mind. He looked at you from behind those glasses that always reminded you of a 60’s NASA engineer. His hair was pushed back, the ends curling around his ears in a way that made you itch to loop them around a finger.

Why?

“What if I never see you again?” Tears you hadn’t even known were in your eyes spilled over onto your cheeks, dripping onto the thighs of your pants. He changed now, taking on various Spencer’s from your past.

Spencer looking up from paperwork to listen to a question, eyebrows raised and eyes wide. His lips parted ever so slightly while a piece of his hair dangled out of place on his forehead.

Spencer leaned against the bar, waving down the bartender mid laugh. His tie is loose and his shirt is untucked, his hair is adorably disheveled and his eyes are crinkled around the edges.

Spencer asleep on the jet home, his cheek cradled in one hand, his elbow propped on the armrest. His long legs are stretched out, his other hand splayed on top of his chest which rose and fell with each breath.

Spencer standing in the elevator, the surprise of someone calling his name turning into a small smile when he recognizes you racing to the doors. He reaches out to press a button before using both hands to grab onto the strap of his bag. He looks down at you as you enter with a look in his eyes you’ve never been able to identify.

And the Spencer you’ve only ever dreamed about.

His eyes fluttering open after a long night spent proving his love, the sun filtering through the window and reflecting on him in such a way that it makes you wish you could paint. The sheets are bunched around his waist, his chest is bare, and his smile is so sleepy that it swells your heart to ten times it’s normal size.

We’ll see each other soon. You’ve got this.

“Okay,” you say it with conviction, forcing your hands to stop shaking, “I trust you.” And then without a moments hesitation, tears still running down your face, you touch the wires together.

The world explodes.

“There!” Spencer races for the place he saw the puff of dirt, nearly tripping over himself as he runs faster than he’s ever run before. Everyone follows, dropping to there knees with Spencer as he starts to push at the stone and sand at his feet.

“Please be here. Please be here.” He keeps saying, his heart climbing into his throat with every passing second he doesn’t find you. That is, until his fingers brush across an arm. He shoves down into the dirt, ignoring every instinct that tells him to stay clean. It’s you, it’s your arm. Then it’s your head, your shoulders and chest, your stomach, your legs, and then it’s you.

He pulls you on top of him, laying in the dirt with you pulled so close that you could meld into one person. You groan into his ear, pushing up just a little to get a better look at the man under you.

“I forgot your coffee.” He laughs, tears spilling onto the sides of his face as he wraps his arms back around you.

...

It’s late by the time you’ve been seen by what feels like every doctor and psychologist in the state. There’s bruises on your wrists and ankles you hadn’t noticed during your time underground and a cut on the back of your head where you’d been hit in order to be knocked unconscious. Not to mention the tiny cuts all over your arms and face from crawling through a shattered windshield and up through rocks and dirt.

You stood in the conference room, arms crossed as you leaned against the table and stared. Staring back at you was your own face, tacked to the evidence board with four other victims.

“I tried going to your apartment, but nobody answered the door.” Spencer is standing in the doorway of the conference room, holding a box in his hands. You look down at it before looking back at him. Try as you might, you can’t tell if he’s opened it or not, either you aren’t a good profiler or you were just really tired.

“You left this at the hospital. I figured it was important if you brought it up with you from the car.” Moving into the room, he holds the box out for you to take from him. The ribbon you tied around it is still tightly knotted, the ends shredded from being dragged above ground. There’s specks of dirt that you reach out to brush to the floor before looking back at Spencer.

“It’s yours.” You reply, scooting back to sit on the table, watching curiously as he looks back down. Pulling the box back to his chest, he slips the ribbon off in one fluid motion. The lid is next and you watch as he reaches in to pull out what you had believed to be your last words.

It isn’t much, and there’s a possibility you don’t feel the same way, but I’ve realized that I’m hopelessly and irrevocably in love with you. I trust you with my life and my heart. I’m only scared now of losing you. -(Y/I)

He doesn’t look up at you and he doesn’t set the napkin aside, only moves his hand so the note is out of his line of sight as he sees the book inside.

“‘I love thee with all the breath, smiles, tears of all my life.’” He says it almost in a whisper before setting the note back in the box, and the box on the table.

“How long have you been waiting to give this to me?” When he looks at you, finally, there is wonder in his eyes, amazement.

“I bought the book last month, but I’ve known how I felt about you for six months.” You pick at the edge of the table, swinging your legs ever so slightly. Spencer moves in front of you, blocking your view of the evidence board.

“I don’t believe in love at first sight. Robert Sternberg developed the theory that love is made of three components; intimacy, passion, and commitment. None of which can be present during a first meeting. But I think I knew that I would love you. I knew from the very first time you walked in those doors and you bumped into me.” He reaches his hand out, only hesitating for just a moment before he takes you cheek in his hand.

“Can I kiss you?” He leaned so close that if he were just a hair closer, you lips would brush together as he spoke. You’ve already closed your eyes, every nerve lit up like the Fourth of July in anticipation.

“Yes.” You barely get it out before his lips collide with yours, you can feel every emotion from the last twenty four hours being poured into this kiss; fear, anxiety, sadness, confusion, anger, relief, love, safety.

You reach out to loop your arms around his neck, the kiss deepening as he grabs your hips to slide you closer. When he finally breaks the kiss, his chest heaving and his cheeks flushed, it takes him a minute to open his eyes.

“Why aren’t you at home?”

“I’m scared.”

“Why?” You loop the hair that curls against his neck around your index finger, licking your lips before responding.

“Because I’m afraid this will all be a dream and I’ll wake up back in that car.” Your breath hitches in your throat, the panic grabbing at your heart and lungs and barely leaving you anytime to process the plethora of things that have happened to you in the last thirty minutes.

“Come sleep at my place, that way you wake up with me by your side.” He steps away from the table, reaching out a hand for you to take. It takes you no time at all to make your decision, grabbing his hand and sliding off the table.

“Okay, I trust you.”

[megakimathi]

Headcanon fanfiction merformer cryptid Rung/reader

@auntabysmal

1 PART (I divided  fic into parts)

- The reader is a fem human

- I leave the city names blank so you can imagine the meeting places for yourself.

----

Their first meeting and acquaintance took place on the shore (Name of the resort town).

The LL pod stopped in this city, and so far they had been here for three days. There is always room at the Aquatic Research and Rescue Center for the mers, and most of them sailed there to rest, only sending their holoforms there to scout out a human settlement. The rest settled on the beach area reserved for them, immediately finding various caves and flat low rocks and settling there.

Rung, who was in the rest of the group, crawled almost halfway out of the water onto dry land, with a caught fish in his teeth. He was going to have a good rest and lunch. The sun was warming his long orange and white body, and his tail was still in the water, just in case the wind was too dry - he could easily splash water into himself with his tail.

- FISH!

The merformer had finished his meal before he heard someone else's scream. Licking the remains off myself of his lunch, Rung looked around, thinking someone was asking for his prey, and saw nearby a human, looking right at him.

As he approached, it turned out to be a land puppy. The human puppy waved cheerfully at him with his little hand and was already walking toward him. Rung himself was in no hurry to leave the warm place, watching the child, only waving his palm back excitedly and uncertainly. In a way, his invisibility could ironically be called avoidance of the land people, while the rest of his congeners leave their places so that no one will bother them.

Of all possible human beings, he can be seen by children. He still couldn't get used to it.

- Hello big mermaid, what are you doing here?

The child stood beside me, looking at Rung with a smile. Like all human children, his gaze did not linger long on someone else's physical form, immediately looking around, sitting down next to the unknown creature. The toddler held a bucket in his hands, immediately taking to building sand castles. He was in his home clothes and had not yet changed into his little bathing suit. He had a panama hat on his head.

- What's a human puppy doing in "mermaid territory"? You're not allowed in here, are you? I don't know if your parents will scold you. Maybe they're already looking for you

Rung did not correct the child, playing along with him on the first word. The cryptid merformer lay his chest on the sand, so as not to tower over the little man too much, and show his peacefulness. Why are children always drawn to him?

The child squeaked resentfully, grabbed his panama and patted Rung's arm with it. Would have hit the creature with the bucket, but didn't want to ruin the sand mound, the merformer himself, chuckling quietly, found the fluffy hair braided into cute pigtails.

- I am not a puppy!!! I am a human being!!! My name is Y/N. My mom knows where I went...I guess.

The little girl showed him her tongue, aghast as the wind snatched the panama out of her fingers. Rung managed to grab the flying little hat in time to return it to the child. Y/N was visibly embarrassed and hid her face in it.

Rung smiles at the child's emotions and introduces himself in return. He hadn't planned on meeting people in any way, of course, but even this interaction was pleasant. He asks permission to touch her hair, and after her affirmative answer, he lowers his head further and pokes his nose lightly into her small shoulder while his large hand, compared to hers, touches the fluffy plaits. Human hair really is unusual to the touch.

After a moment, he feels a reciprocal touch, against his face. He looks at the girl - her eyes wide open, she doesn't look away from him, her hands touching his glasses, going down to his cheeks stroking them. Rung lets out a rumbling sound under the human happy smile, and swishes his tail to splash some water on his body. A couple of drops hit the Y/N, but she doesn't resent it

****

When two voices call out Y/N's name, a little girl sits on the sand and builds sandcastles under Rung supervision. They both turn at the sound, and the little girl gets up from the sand with a sigh, appraising her creation. She waves to the two human behind the merformer territory line, and they spot her, look around, and walk toward her across the strange stretch of beach.

- Will we meet again, Mr. Rung?

The Merformer meets a naïve look, to which he only smiles, shrugging uncertainly. He doesn't know the answer himself; he won't tell her it's all down to her memory. But the little man seemed pleased with that answer anyway.

He watches as the family gathers, the adults looking through him as usual as the child tells them about the "new friend of Rung" and points in his direction. Parents only sigh, gently scolding the child for entering someone else's territory, where people should not be.

When they leave, Rung returns in the water to hunt again.

The second time they crossed paths (Name of Town).

Several people gathered on the high pier because they saw dolphins swimming by. But they especially made delighted noises when they spotted the merformers.

The humans were smart enough not to jump in the water to the sea creatures, who decided to look at them themselves. But the sea creatures were close enough, and it was as if they were flaunting themselves in front of the crowd on purpose. Merformers usually avoid humans, but that's until the creatures decide to communicate themselves.

Rung looked out of the water to see the whole circus. Rodimus, as always, attracted attention by the way he splashed in the water. The rest of the merformers swam quietly at a good distance from the humans, and from him, So they don't get hit by his tail.

- The merformers are so cool! Y/N, come here and look at them!

Ears fins Rung twitched as he heard the rather familiar name. Adjusting his glasses, the cryptid-merformer carefully looks at the pier and sees two young men, one of whom called out to a rather familiar girl. He swam closer, looked closer, and saw a pendant hanging around the human neck. He recognized it immediately. Y/N hasn't gotten rid of it after all these years.

He looked at her more closely and realized that she had grown up and was not at all like the child who had kept him company for so many days, a few years ago. Except now she couldn't see him anymore.

Her wandering, curious gaze fell on him, and Rung had a blind hope that she would be able to see him. No, her eyes and brain can't recognize and distinguish Rung's figure, so she was immediately distracted by something else.

The girl herself was twirling the pendant in her fingers, looking curiously at the Merformers. Her eyes kept falling on the object in her hands, Y/N frowned as if trying to remember something. Something seemed vaguely familiar to her.

Her thoughts are interrupted when Rodimus finishes his games and calls his crew to continue their journey. The people look at the merformers for a little while longer, and leave the dock to go about their business.

Rung watches as Y/N hides in the crowd with his friend, and then catches up with his pod himself.

Their second meeting is over before it begins.

[aimasup]

Ok so from this first part I've decided to finally throw in my headcanon version of Roman and Remus when Thomas was a kid.

(Next here and next here)

@miraculousglitter

But first here's a fic as my headcanon on how they split (Tw gore and angst) :

The Seperation (oneshot)

Fun sniffled. "So... so you're saying... I need to be better...?"

Heart stared. No! No, no, no no! What was happening? Fun never cried. He never let the most piercing of insults get to him. He was always the bounciest of the Sides, bold and daring, without a care in the world. The log to lean on.

And now tears were pouring down his face.

"Fun, please, I never said that! That's not what I meant!" Heart placed his hands on Fun's shoulders, feeling like he was going to tear up himself. Somehow, he had made the unstoppable force that was the royal King Fun cry. He mentally kicked himself.

"I would never think any less of you for anything you do. Everyone else thinks so too. We all love you for who you are!" he said.

"It's just... the things you say and do sometimes. We don't hate you for doing them, what we hate is the things that get Thomas in trouble. That's what we don't want."Heart pulled Fun into a tight hug.

"It's nothing to do with you. Please don't cry." Heart choked. "You're perfect."

Fun gulped down tears. "So.. so.. so it's a - a problem? That we can f - fix?"

Heart had never thought of it that way, but as always, Fun was a brilliant Side. "Y - yeah! You're right! Maybe we can fix this! L - like a cold, or - or a bad knee owie...."

They dissolved into silence. Fun sat on his knees, tear marks still left on his tanned face. Heart had joined him on the bedroom floor and let go of him, but still kept a gentle hold on his hands.

Fun knew what Heart said was true. But the overwhelming aura of his room was pressing in on him from all directions. What no one realized was that Heart was one of Thomas' strongest sides. His room was especially influential. It would constantly shift and change to any emotion, subconscious or not.

Heart was scared.

Not of him, clearly, but Fun knew what else he was scared of. It was true. He had bad things and bad thoughts in him, and they needed to go. Then, everything would be better and everyone would love him again.

Fun hiccuped. "S - so, should we.. get Learning?" He was the one who named everyone. In his chest he knew these names weren't very 'clever' but given Thomas' limited vocabulary they were his best efforts.

Heart considered this. He shook his head.

"I dunno. I'm not sure how he can help. But I do know we're supposed to... uh...separate the problem. Separate...we could just separate the bad stuff! Right!" he said excitedly.

Fun furrowed his brow in deep thought, which was rare for the Side. "Se...perate? How?"

Heart's face dropped. He plopped back onto the floor, where he had previously stood up in a 'eureka' moment.

"... I dunno."

They sat there, pondering some more.

Fun glanced over unsurely at Heart. He noticed the unnaturally tired look on his features. Heart was clearly trying so hard to come up with a solution, which was a problem because that wasn't his job. He wasn't supposed to solve objective issues, which would surely tire him out further than Fun already had.

Fun looked at the ground. He stood up, catching Heart's attention.

"Fun?"

Everything was wrong. Was he wrong? No, it had to be the bad things, but wouldn't that make it him as well technically? Was he bad? Were the thoughts bad?

He took deep breaths, that quickened the more he thought about everything that happened in the past few years. All his friends' thoughts, all his doubts, all of the troubles because of him.

He had to banish the bad thoughts. Banish the bad thoughts. Get rid of them. Get rid of the things ruining everyone's lives.

Get rid of the things that tarnished his otherwise perfect image. Get rid of the ideas he wasn't supposed to enjoy because they were gross and wrong. Get rid of the scary stuff that would make his friends sad.

Fun choked. Rip it out. Kick it out of his body. He was supposed to extract it like a spider nest in his rib cage - no! Gross, bad, scary! You're scary, you're not me!

But why didn't it feel like it was coming out? Something was tearing away, but it wasn't a something else, it was... him.

Heart stared in horror as Fun stumbled and caught on his own feet. He was clutching at his hair and silently choking. Unholy gargled whimpers escaped his throat as golden bile bubbled out of his throat, under bloodshot, teary eyes.

Get rid of the bad things! They're awful, they're not you! They're not me!

I'm not you?

You're not me! You're you!

But I'm you! I'm me!

No! I'm me! Shut up! I'm tearing! It hurts!

No, I'm tearing, you're tearing!

Leave me! I'm leaving!

Leave me! I'm leaving!

Fine!

Fine!

Fine!

"I don't need you!" Fun screamed in a horrific layered voice, raw and primal. "You're going away!"

Heart was crying. He didn't know what to do, his friend was in a bad shape, nothing was done about it.

"I'm leaving! Fine, I'm leaving! Gone, I'm leaving! We're leaving!" Like a madman, Fun clawed at the carpet rapidly, oozing gold and black down his center. Thin red lines crept into view with bone cracking noises, the liquids stained the floor and his beautiful grey outfit, his pupils changed color, his layered voice grew more and more divided by the minute until he tore.

Right down the middle.

Heart screamed.

What fell onto the carpets were two different shapes. One hit the floor with a soft thud, with more grace and beauty Heart had ever seen. The other hit the carpet with a greasy splat, smelling as it looked.

Heart was still unsure of the situation. With heaving breaths, he scrambled over to help up the one who looked the most like his friend. He still didn't know what to do at the moment, but he just wanted to hold Fun in his arms and comfort him.

"Fun? Fun! Please, answer me, please! I'm sorry, please, wake up..." Heart shook him. "Please, please, please, please," he chanted, then broke out a little sob. "Please?"

The Fun in his arms stirred. Bleary eyes blinked and then shot wide open. "Heart!" he gasped.

Heart also gasped, staring at the face that sort of looked like Fun. Somehow he had completely different features, and his eyes were pure ruby red, but his hair and his clothes were so similar. It was definitely his rustic, bold Fun, but every move looked like a gentle dance instead of a determined lead. His voice was more airy and full of song, more than usual.

The two Sides stared at each other, still in each other's arms. A wet splat alerted them. Their heads whipped around to the noise.

To their horror, a...figure emerged from the black oily heap on the carpet. The figure shone ebony and dripped all over the thing. Somehow it was a mockery of Fun's image, but Heart couldn't help but be drawn to recognize him too.

They stared, and as it advanced slowly, the red one screamed in fright. "No! What is that?!"

Heart and his room were pounding. The answer spilled out before he could stop it, but he didn't care. "That's the bad stuff! It must have worked!"

He took up Fun's hands, now absolutely sure that it was him. "The stuff is gone! Please, don't look so doubtful, we're a family, we've always been!" Pulling him into a hug, Heart laughed in relief. Completely unaware of how his 'Fun' was feeling through all this.

The oily figure reared its head, revealing a terrifying smile and two glowing green eyes. It stumbled over itself and fell, a high, ugly voice tearing out of its orifices. "Heart!"

Heart let go of Fun and they hurried to their feet and backed off, realizing the sludge figure was still in their room. They stared at it with bated breath, like it was a cockroach ready to take flight after them. Their expressions were contorted by fear.

From the ground, it tried and failed to reach out to them. "Heart! I'm here, I've gotten rid of the bad stuff! Heart! Please, Heart!"

But they were already bolting out the room, Fun in Heart's tow. With a yelp, they had fled, calling for Learning and Careful.

The demonic creature sat in silence. Then it started laughing, cackling, a noise that was the stuff of nightmares. Tears streamed down its cheeks, smile permanently etched on its face, its shoulders shaking.

A small, crouched monster with yellow snake eyes silently watched the broken thing crumble from the doorway.

[innuendostudios]

Thoughts on... some funny games

[no spoilers to speak of]

Thoughts on Lair of the Clockwork God

The wisdom of the gaming cognoscenti insists that comedy is hard to do in video games. Having grown up with Monkey Island and Zork, I've never found this convincing. But one true thing is this: it's hard to write about comedic games. The ineffability of humor is hard enough to describe in less-interactive media; I can't even explain to my partner why Gretchen saying "I met January Jones once!" on You're the Worst busted me up, and they were sitting right next to me when she said it. Throw in the "you had to be there" nature of the player's active participation and I lose myself in a cornfield. The thing I found hilarious might come a beat to early for you, or not at all, or not be funny in text like it is in gameplay.

Why did I like Lair of the Clockwork God? It made me laugh.

The premise and particulars are a lot of "that could go either way." Ben and Dan - stars of Ben There, Dan That and Time Gentleman, Please! - have returned. Ben is still an adventure game star, but Dan has adopted platforming mechanics in an attempt to get with the times. So playing the game involves switching back and forth between a character who can leap across canyons but can't pick up items or talk to people, and one who can combine inventory but can't climb over a 3-pixel rock.

Does that sound potentially funny? Potentially grating? Yes to both!

The plot centers around our heroes trying to save the world from several simultaneous apocalypses and having to teach human emotions to a supercomputer in order to do so. (Don't ask.) These means, rather like Ben There, Dan That, traipsing through a number of fantasy worlds (read: computer simulations) until the correct emotion is provoked. This requires cross-genre cooperation: finding ways to get Ben to areas only Dan can access, getting Dan new power ups by combining objects in Ben's inventory (an act Dan insists on calling "crafting").

The best bits are at these intersections, when Dan's platforming is the puzzliest and Ben's puzzles take advantage of Dan's skills. Periodically the game gives you a Dan-centric platforming gauntlet the controls are NOT precise nor pleasant enough for, or a Ben-only moon logic puzzle that leaves you googling the walkthrough.

But I liked it! A lot. The genre-hopping seems to have invigorated the developers, Ben Ward and Dan Marshall. I discussed my favorite joke in Ben There, Dan That (in what is probably the least popular video I've ever made that wasn't asking for money), but was also dismayed that the game was never that clever again. But this one is, several times over! Progression here involves cheating your way to a better respawn zone, goofing around in game menus, exploiting "glitches," exiting out and loading up entirely other games. There is a lot of poking and prodding at what a game of this nature can or should be.

But, honestly? The only real selling point is... it was funny. The humor is as anarchic and metatextual as in previous titles, but it feels good-natured in a way BT,DT didn't. And there are, here and there, little bits of meat on its bones - the characters wondering if, as a couple thirtysomething white guys, the world hasn't left them behind, no longer comfortable with the juvenile humor of their youth but not really understanding the youth of today, but having not yet fully escaped the mentalities they used to hold. (There's an unspoken humor to Dan's idea of "modern" gameplay being 2D platforming mechanics, especially at a time when adventure games are significantly more popular than on his last outing; this is a good joke whether or not it's intentional.)

Also: this game contains the most poignant urinating-on-a-grave puzzle in gaming history, and you may quote me on that.

Having finished it months ago, I can't even remember what all the gags were that tickled me at the time. Comedy fades from memory faster than drama or frustration. Mostly I just remember having a good time.

Thoughts on The Darkside Detective

Here's a hook: sometime after the mayhem ends in Ghostbusters, The Exorcist, Evil Dead 2, or some other paranormal blockbuster that you watched over and over in the 90's until the VHS wore out, some overworked detective has to come into your town and piece together what the hell happened.

This is his story.

It's a good gag, and the devs wring every drop from it. Existing in a world where these things are commonplace and you have to fit them into some notion of "police procedure" is just funny. Like, it's one thing to have a running gag where you keep observing the moon in outdoor scenes, commenting, with increasing hostility, that its behavior is suspicious (it has been present at multiple crime scenes); it's a slightly different thing when, given the things you've encountered, the moon being the Big Bad is actually somewhat possible.

The game is divided into six main cases and three bonus DLC missions (which come included in the base game now, and the third of which is the proper ending/setup for the sequel). You are the cop tasked to deal with The Other Side - and, when The Other Side bleeds into our own world, its cops have to deal with you. You have a sidekick with a mental maturity of about 6, which I guess makes you the straight man. (You have to grade on a curve to find a straight man in this game.) And you solve tasks like rounding up escaped gremlins or finding an AWOL lake monster all juxtaposed with mundane problems like inter-office squabbles and having not bought your Christmas presents early enough. It's (pleasantly) lo-res and sparsely isolated, so the dialogue and premise do most of the work, but they are ably up to the task.

The gameplay... not so much. I'm an adventure game lifer, so I can put up with a lot of nonsense. It's mostly straightforward inventory puzzles and occasional minigames. Most of the puzzles are fine enough. As the cases progress, things get more involved, and the DLCs especially involve some awful moon logic. And the minigames are not above using that same jumping peg puzzle you've solved in a dozen other games already. So gameplay ranges from serviceable to irritating, but it mostly exists to string together funny lines and silly images. (Christmas mall elves being secretly in service to Krampus - that's the kind of thing we're talking about here.) You won't feel much guilt for opening up a walkthrough; the puzzles aren't why you're here.

The sequel has just been released, and both games are cheap, so check them out if you feel like smiling.

Thoughts on The Procession to Calvary

It's rare for a game to be hilarious to look at.

The Procession to Calvary takes its name from the Bruegel painting. It also takes all it's graphics from Renaissance oil paintings, and the designer delights in making famously rendered heroes and religious icons steal, stab, fart, and swear.

A strong Terry-Gilliam-with-After-Effects vibe is what we're describing.

You play as a lady knight from a war that's just ended, which sucks for you because, in this age of peace, you're no longer authorized to kill. And killing's, like, you're whole thing. But the one person your new, pacifist king wouldn't stop you from killing is the warlord you just deposed, who fled to the South. So you embark on a nonsensical journey to seek out the one human on Earth you are authorized to kill, because killing is just The. Best. Ever.

Of the three games we're discussing, this is the most overtly cheeky, and, at times, the most scatological. I could've done with a bit less scatology, if I'm being honest, but the cheekiness is very winning. As with Lair of the Clockwork God, a lot of jokes could go either way - a field of people being tortured and a woman on a blanket selling commemorative torture merch could be painfully try-hard. But something about the victims being seemingly everyone ever crucified or broken on the wheel in a famous painting, and having them writhe on their crosses in a way that is both gruesome and goofy, and having a cacophonous soundtrack of their screams and moans that you will now imagine every time you look at one of those elegantly elegiac paintings from now on... it works. That the music score is being played by an extremely jaunty piper who dances behind you just out of sword's reach as you traverse the field pushes it over the top.

Oh, and the puzzles, while never hair-pullingly obtuse, will leave you stumped at times. Push past that to get the proper ending, but, if you're sick of trying, you can, at any point, just start stabbing your way through problems. Which, again: it takes a very deft touch to make "protagonist resorts to violence" actually funny rather than lazy and obvious. And maybe, in another game, the perfect timing of every animation, the clever quips, the careful contrast of cathedrals and high-society music halls with gleeful sword-swinging wouldn't be enough. But something about it being frickin' Renaissance paintings carries it the last mile.

This is probably the basest game of the three, but it's also the one that made me giggle the most. Having a BFA that required several art history classes may have something to do with it. But check this thing out.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

#10: Felix, Part Two: The Episode Itself

Here’s Part 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

Adrien: I think I already know, father.

Gabriel: But, how?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Someone cue the Imperial March.

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

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

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

Gabriel: These rings are obviously very special to me.

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

Gabriel: We'll discuss it later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Felix: Loser.

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

Felix: Freak.

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

Felix: Chloe. Just as annoying as usual.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

BULL. SHIT.

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

But maybe I'm being too hard on him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’m not that big a fan of Felix.

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

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

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

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