#we advance more when we the people at the bottom fight and work together

[hydrosspyross]

Monkey Man said ACAB

Monkey Man said there is no fighting without solidarity

Monkey Man said he is all of us, we are all him

Monkey Man said there is no tool of power or symbol of power on our side, even the tools of the past were no better

But also Monkey Man said if you're stuck, have you tried biting?

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 11 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: When Anna hits rock bottom, she knows she needs to figure out how to put herself back together. But she also knows that leaving Kevin behind once and for all will require her to give up the only thing she wants from him. Maybe a shot at happiness with Bob would have been worth it.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, 18+

Length: 4400 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

If this wasn't rock bottom, Anna didn't want to know what was. She spent Sunday night laying on the floor next to her bed alternating between crying and hyperventilating. Apparently she couldn't do both at the same time, because her body kept giving each activity its full attention before switching again. When she finally started to fall asleep around three o'clock, her ribs were aching so much, she didn't see how she would be able to teach in a few hours. But it didn't matter. She wouldn't be going to campus anyway.

When she woke up at six, she crawled to her computer and emailed everyone in her classes, informing them that she would not be in today and to work through the syllabus independently until their next class with her. All of the other professors pulled this kind of thing all the time, but she still felt guilty which triggered more tears. If Kevin somehow cost her a full time tenure position along with her happiness, she didn't know what else she had that he could possibly take from her.

When she thought about Bob, it hurt so badly she had to run to the toilet. And when she thought about Advanced Calculus and Advanced Physics, it hurt almost just as much. She was in love with so many things in San Diego, but she'd dragged her past here along with her even if she didn't want to acknowledge that fact. She'd brought this dark shadow along that tainted everything and left her wondering if she could fix any of it at this point. If she could even figure out how to start.

As she hiccupped alone in her bathroom, she knew she needed to mentally backtrack to New Jersey for the first time in a long time before she could focus on San Diego. When she crawled back toward her bed, she located her phone and found the contact information for her lawyer's office. It was late enough on the east coast that someone answered after one ring, and soon Anna had to use her scratchy, raw voice to try to communicate.

"When will my divorce be final?" she managed to ask as she propped herself against the wall. She left herself hungry every day, and she was living in this tiny room simply so she could pay these people to help her sort out her life, but the response she got was not ideal.

"Ms. Webber... your husband still has three days left to comply, but he has not done so yet."

Anna wanted to scream, but her throat felt like it was constricting. Why wouldn't he just let her have the one thing she wanted? She wasn't asking for anything extra, just the thing she worked so hard to make her own. She didn't even care about all of the money. But he wouldn't let her have it. Even though she didn't want to fight for anything else in the house, he still wouldn't comply. He was making hundreds of thousands of dollars now, and she wanted none of it back, but he knew that her manuscript was the one thing meant something to her. He would happily drag this out until she had nothing left.

She knew she needed to wait it out. It was her fault she hadn't filed sooner. She let Kevin's words destroy her even when she knew he was sleeping with Alyssa. She let him convince her that she needed him for way too long. "What happens in three days?" she finally asked.

"If he doesn't comply, then you can restructure your end of the divorce agreement, and we can try again."

Anna knew what that meant for her, but she didn't know if she could pull the trigger. Restructure it? There was only one thing she could remove. Kevin would come out clean as a whistle, and she would lose everything she hadn't already.

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

When Bob knocked on the door at seven in the morning after barely sleeping at all, Jessica looked concerned when she opened it, and Jake looked annoyed. "What's wrong?" she asked, reaching out and running her hand along his stubbled cheek. "Why haven't you shaved? Why do you look so upset?"

"Why are you even here?" Jake called from the kitchen where he was cooking breakfast in his uniform.

"I need to talk to you," Bob croaked, and Jessica pulled him inside and gently guided him toward the couch. She rubbed his back and didn't rush him as he sat there, and Jake even stopped turning to glare from in front of the waffle iron.

"Did you know Anna's married?"

Bob could tell by the sharp intake of breath and the way Jessica's hand came to a screeching halt on his back that she had no idea.

"She's what?"

"Married," he repeated without any feeling whatsoever. The handful of hours he'd spent around her were some of the best of his life, but he would have never let his friends try to push them together if he'd know. He should have let her keep him in the friend zone when she tried to let him know that's what she wanted. Mutual attraction be damned, she'd made marriage vows to someone else. He just wished he would have known.

"No," Jessica said adamantly. "How? She's got no rings, and she said she lives alone. She mentioned an ex before, but I'm virtually certain he's still in New Jersey. She... struggles with certain things, and if she was married, someone would be helping her make ends meet. I don't know where you came up with this, but no."

Bob took his glasses off and set them down on the arm of the couch while he ran his hands over his exhausted eyes. "Jessica. She told me she was."

"Well," his friend said as she wrapped her arm around his shoulders, "I'll ask her about it at lunchtime today. There must be some sort of miscommunication."

"I don't think so," he groaned softly. "We... slept together, and those were her parting words as she ran out of my house."

"You slept together?!" Jessica practically shrieked. 

"It's about damn time!" Jake called from the kitchen, clanging his spatulas together and whooping loudly.

But Bob was shaking his head and staring at the floor through his slightly fuzzy vision. He had his phone in his hand all night, trying to decide if he should call or text her, wondering if she went home to climb into bed with her husband. Scared that this was the reason why she squeezed herself into her apartment door before closing it abruptly when he drove her home.

"I should have backed off when she friend zoned me the first time. I should have never believed that I could be with a woman like her." A woman that inspired the best poetry he'd ever written in his life. A woman who made him want everything.

It finally dawned on Bob that there might be an irate husband in his future, and he would just have to take whatever came his way. Because there wasn't a chance that Anna didn't have her spouse wrapped around her fingers. Even if she had a lapse of judgement when it came to Bob, Anna's husband would know how good he had it and want to fight for her. Bob would just have to take it on the chin.

When Jessica kissed his cheek and whispered, "I'll try to sort this out," he just nodded with his shoulders slumped and his elbows digging into his thighs. But there was nothing to sort out. Anna would never be his, and now he would have to pay the price for the way she told him she was married about an hour too late to take it all back. Honestly, he never thought accidentally sleeping with a married woman was something he would ever have to deal with in his wildest dreams, and now that he was forced to do it, he was getting pretty mad.

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

Anna managed to give her Classics lecture on Tuesday morning with a sore throat after screaming into her pillow off and on for most of Monday afternoon. She hadn't eaten in days, and if anyone noticed her puffy, red eyes, they didn't mention it to her. She had quizzes to grade and reports to read, but when she went back to her office, the overwhelming scent of bread from the cafeteria made her gag.

There was a pack of peanuts in her desk along with a room temperature can of ginger ale, but she had no appetite yet. She was just in survival mode until she decided what to do when Kevin's time was up. Until she worked up the courage to talk to Bob and apologize.

He was the sweetest man she had ever known, and her lapse of judgement was going to cost her any chance with him in the future as well as her friendships. In fact, none of them were ever going to want to speak to her again, and that's what she deserved. If she would have just been honest with Bob, she wouldn't be in this mess. But San Diego was like a balm for her senses, making her feel normal where she knew she wasn't. Maybe Bob would have been willing to wait a few more months until she figured out her next steps. Maybe he would have accepted that she was legally separated from Kevin if her husband would just sign the fucking paperwork.

Tears were burning her eyes again just as someone knocked on her office door. She sat perfectly still, silently begging them to go away, praying that everyone would leave her alone until she could sneak out and go home later.

"Anna?"

She knew that voice so well, and she was shocked to find that it sounded more concerned than angry.

"It's just us," came the second voice, and without another thought, Anna was on her feet, wrenching the door open as she started to sob. "Oh, Anna," whispered Jessica as she collected her into her arms.

Anna stood in the middle of her tiny office and cried and cried in Jessica's arms while her other friend studiously locked the door and dimmed the lights before reaching for the box of tissues on the shelf. "Here," she whispered, and Anna accepted a wad of tissues from her.

She tried to mop at her face, but it was a lost cause. Jessica pushed the loose strands of her red hair back from her eyes as she said, "Anna, we're here for you, but I think we need to talk. For real."

"We have some... concerns."

Anna tried to take huge gulps of air into her burning lungs as she gasped, "I'm really not okay. I hurt Bob."

Her friends looked at each other before Jessica said, "I think it's time you backtracked a little bit. Maybe all the way back to New Jersey."

"I hated it there," she told them immediately, wiping at her eyes as she sat on the edge of her desk, bracing herself for the interrogation to come. 

Advanced Calculus eyed her sympathetically before a look of steel locked in her gaze. "Are you married?"

Anna nodded slightly, cringing as she pictured Kevin's face. "Technically, yes."

"Anna!" Jessica exclaimed. "You slept with Bob!"

They knew. They knew everything. Bob told them, and they knew what she'd done. She cradled her forehead in her hands and said, "I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I hate Kevin. I don't think we were even married two years before he started cheating on me. I'm trying my best to divorce him, but he just won't fucking let me."

"What do you mean he won't let you?" Advanced Calculus asked, cutting off Jessica before she could screech again.

"He is ruining my life," Anna whispered, finally starting to feel more anger than anything else. "Like an idiot, I've let him ruin my life. I put him through medical school. I dropped out of Princeton to work two jobs to put my husband through medical school." Her voice faded into a soft yet harsh whisper. "Kevin promised he'd take care of me after that so I could finish my Ivy League PhD. But then he started cheating on me because I was always tired and boring and no fun. Because all I was doing was working to pay his tuition for four years straight while he fucked another medical student between classes. I caught them having sex in my car."

"No," both women gasped at the same time. But she just nodded as the memories she had tried so hard to keep at bay since she moved to California came roaring back.

"That's not a marriage," Jessica practically growled, reaching out for Anna's hand that she hadn't even been aware was shaking. "Not really."

"You're right," Anna agreed. "I'm a joke." She honestly felt like one. Images of Bob's face and the memory of his kind voice flooded her system. The way he looked at her and touched her felt like love. The things he wrote about her had her almost convinced he could love her back.

"You're not a joke, Anna," her friend told her. "You're a smart, capable woman who should have come to her friends months ago with all of this information."

"I hate Kevin!" Jessica shrieked before biting down on her own fingertips, and it was so comical, Anna might have laughed if she was in a better frame of mind.

"Yes," Advanced Calculus agreed. "Kevin sounds like an asshole. But you know who isn't an asshole? Bob. But right now, he kind of feels like one."

Anna closed her eyes as the tears started welling up faster. "I tried so hard. You have to believe me. But Bob is perfect. And he didn't think I was boring. But I wasn't planning on falling in love ever again."

"You love him?" Jessica snapped loudly. "You love him? Because Bob thinks you are in a loving marriage with your spouse!"

"Jessica, go sit in the desk chair and calm down," the other woman commanded, and Anna watched the petite, bespectacled blonde stomp around her desk. "Now, Anna, why didn't you explain this all to Bob before you rocked the man's whole world and then ran off into the night like Cinderella?"

"I freaked out," Anna whispered, swallowing hard. "He's the perfect man. He did everything exactly right, and he was exquisite." She looked down at the floor as she said, "I haven't been touched like that in years. Like I was worth something. I'm not even thirty yet, and my husband ditched me for someone else while actively bankrupting me." She was mortified by what she was telling them, but she couldn't stop herself now. "Kevin always said I should dye my hair, and he loved it when I wore makeup. But Bob... he likes my hair and my freckles. He likes the books I read. He thinks I'm smart." She felt her face warm up as she thought about his poems. "We had sex, and then he was looking at me, and he started talking about us. I can't be an us with someone when I can't shake Kevin."

Anna could practically feel Jessica freaking out in the chair behind her, but she kept her eyes on the floor. "If you need help with Kevin or money for a lawyer or something-" Jessica said, but Anna cut her off.

"No. I'm fine. But he's going to force me to decide if I'd rather have my freedom or my self worth. And right now, I can't decide what I want to let him get away with when he already took so much."

"Hey," her much calmer friend said softly, and Anna finally met her eyes. "We're here for you. Anything you need, okay? But I need you to promise you'll talk to Bob. The sooner the better." Then Anna watched her reach for her tie dye lunch box which she apparently brought in with her and pulled out one of her fancy containers. "Bradley made you some hummus, and I packed you crackers and veggies to go with it. Please make sure you're eating. And please talk to Bob. I need to go teach Differential Equations, but I'll text you later. Jess, you have Physics III in fifteen minutes."

Anna received two hugs that she barely returned, and when the two women were gone, she sank into her chair and managed to eat some of the hummus without gagging. Then she texted Bob, because if nothing else, she needed him to know how sorry she was for running out on him. How sorry she was for all of it.

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

Anna wanted to talk to him on Thursday evening. Bob had to fight the urge to offer to pick her up on campus and save her from having to take an Uber to his house, especially after the few details that Jessica told him about her finances. She confirmed that Anna was married. She also promised him that there was no angry spouse waiting to jump him in the In 'N Out parking lot. She also told him that he needed to give Anna a chance to clear the air. So he agreed. He was free on Thursday. It wasn't like he'd been doing anything except going to work and coming straight home all week, even avoiding Suzanne as much as he could. And he wasn't going to break his promise to Jessica, even though Nat told him to delete Anna's number.

Bob sat in his living room, staring at his new bookshelf in disgust. He'd let himself fall into a fantasy where he imagined someday Anna's books would get mixed up with his on the shelves. Where all of her dog eared novels would live alongside his pristine ones. He'd been subconsciously thinking about it since he met her.

His insides were churning with anxiety. Part of him wanted to scream at her that none of this was fair to him, but the other part knew that no matter what, he still didn't want to see tears in her brown eyes. He couldn't let her take all of the blame for this anyway. He'd even told Jessica that she pushed a little too hard and that she shouldn't do that again in the future.

When there was a knock on his door, it was hard for him to stand up. How was he supposed to do this? He dragged himself across his living room to his front door and carefully opened it to find Anna with the saddest expression imaginable on her face. She looked somehow smaller and paler than she should. She looked like she hadn't slept. And that's when Bob realized he must look the same way to her.

"Hi," she whispered, brown eyes darting around his face nervously. She held out a small bouquet of blue flowers and the books she had borrowed in his direction, and Bob noticed her hands were shaking. "Um, I got these for you. They look like the flowers on the cover of the Whitman poems, and I thought of you when I saw them at the store."

"Anna," Bob groaned as he took them from her along with the books. He moved out of the doorway so she could come inside, and somehow he still couldn't decide if he was angry at her or not.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, turning to look at him once she was halfway across the room. There were several feet of space between them, but he could smell her hair. She was wearing the jeans she wore last time she went to the Hard Deck. He knew what that shirt felt like between his fingers. He could tell she was trying not to cry as she said, "I'm just really sorry."

"Why didn't you tell me you're married?" he snapped, unable to hold back. He knew his tone was harsh as he added, "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"Because I should have been divorced by now!" she practically shouted, and Bob was instantly more soothed by that sentence than he should have been. "You think I want to be married to the worst man I know?" He had so many questions already, but something told him to just let her keep going. "That's why I'm here. In San Diego. He was supposed to sign the papers so I could get on with my ridiculous life, but he won't!" She sucked in a deep breath before she said, "And it's eating me alive knowing what I kept settling for when you exist! Knowing that I could have been with a man like you."

Her lips were moving like she was shivering, and her eyes were wide and watery. Red blotches covered her freckled cheeks, and Bob just knew she was going to panic again. She made a helpless noise and rushed forward, ready to run, but this time he caught her in his arms, the books and flowers falling to the floor. He let her struggle for a few seconds as she cried, but he held on tight.

"Anna," he said softly. "You can't keep running."

Her body slumped against his. She looked up at him as he held her, and a few seconds later, she let her cheek come to rest against his chest. She nodded against him as she whispered, "I don't really have anywhere to go anyway."

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

Bob kept his distance while also somehow always being nearby. Anna knew he was probably expecting her to vanish again if he turned his back for too long, but she was too mentally and physically exhausted to move from his living room couch while he fixed some tea. It was getting dark outside, and it was nearly impossible to try to think about anything other than Sunday night when she felt truly free for the first time in years. 

Similar thoughts must have been on Bob's mind, because he was still occasionally looking at her like he used to. Then his cheeks would turn pink, and he'd duck his head before showing her a completely neutral expression. She took the mug of tea he handed her and whispered, "Thank you," as he sat down as far away from her as he could. She cleared her throat as she looked into her drink and said, "You're one of the kindest, most generous people I've ever met." She forced her gaze to his face. "I'm sorry I took that for granted. And I'm sorry I wasn't honest with you and the ladies."

Bob nodded but didn't speak for a minute. His voice was as gentle as always as he eventually said, "I'd like it if we could talk."

"Yeah," she agreed softly now that she felt like the fight inside her was gone and the tears had finally dried up.

"Where's your husband?"

She pictured Kevin standing in the perfect kitchen in the beautiful house on the cul-de-sac. "In New Jersey."

"Right," Bob replied in a reassuring tone. "You said you should have been divorced by now, so does that mean you don't want to be married to him?"

"I hate him," she whispered, back to staring into her mug. "And I'm sure he hates me, too. No, I don't want to be married to him any longer."

"You're separated?" he asked softly.

Anna shrugged, wishing more than anything that she could scoot a little closer to Bob and feel his hand on hers. "Not legally. He won't sign anything."

"Right," Bob repeated again. "Would it be too much for me to ask what happened? Because I really don't understand. I'm trying, but I'm still so confused, Anna."

Her brain was screaming at her to start crying again, begging her to fall apart or hyperventilate, but she didn't even have the energy for it. She took one long sip of her perfect cup of tea before setting it aside and turning to look at him. Even now, he had sympathy in his eyes. Whether that was because he now knew she and Kevin weren't really together or because he was always this sweet, she couldn't say. But he was everything she wanted and would never have again. 

"The short version is that I put him through medical school while he cheated on me. The long version is that he used up every bit of my money, let me work myself ragged, prevented me from finishing my PhD at Princeton, belittled me, and flaunted his extramarital relationship in my face. It was humiliating knowing he was cheating. It's humiliating eating sandwiches and peanuts for every meal now. But the worst thing is that he is holding my manuscript hostage, and no matter what I do, he won't let me have it back."

"Jesus, Anna," he gasped, making the slightest move like he wanted to reach for her before pulling back.

She slowly stood, and he looked up at her, trying to gauge what she was going to do, but she just looked down at him as she tucked her shaking hands behind her back. "You're perfect," she whispered. "You're Sky Writing. You're the handsome man from the bookstore who smells like tea and soap. You're Bob, the guy my friends knew I would fall in love with as soon as I met them." She took a step back, barely able to handle how he was looking at her like she still mattered. "But I don't know how to be an us with you. I know that's what you want, but I never wanted to fall like this again. I tried my best not to. I can't do this with Kevin's shadow behind me all the time. And I'm just really sorry I let it go as far as it did. Because now that I know so much about you...."

That's when the tears arrived, and that's also when Bob stood up. "Anna, I feel like-"

When he cut himself off, leaving the sentence hanging in the air for a few seconds, she took one long, last look at him and whispered, "I'm going to go." He didn't stop her from stepping over the flowers, walking out the door, and heading to the end of his street where she waited for a ride as the night air made her shiver, and her tear streaked cheeks finally started to dry again.

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

Oh, they both fell for each other. I'm not sure if Bob feels better or worse now. Kevin is an absolute dick, and we will hear from him in the next chapter. Keep fighting, Anna. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 12

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[snickerdoodie]

Summary: you and miguel kick back and relax at the lake, which leads to more fun being done

A/n: there may or may not be horribly translated Spanish in this because I don’t speak it, so sorry if the translations are off. Also, this isn’t proofread so if there’s any grammar mistakes I apologize in advance, but otherwise, hope you enjoy!

It was a hot summer day at the lake, most of the spider people thought it would be a joyous activity to go and have an off day after a hard weeks work. Turns out, it was a *brilliant* and *pleasurable* idea for both you and Miguel. The two of your were relaxing on top of a slightly uncomfortable foldable lounge chair along the sides of the lake, you laying on his strong chest while he lays back nursing a beer, the two of you enjoying the collapsing sunset together. After a while, you feel Miguel’s rough hands start wondering further and further from their resting spot on your waist to closet and closer to your clothed core. Opening your eyes, you lazily glare at his hungry yet cold stare, the small smirk on his face sending shivers through your veins.

“We can’t do this, Miguel..there’s people around..” you mumble out half-hazardously, knowing there was really no reason to fight back; you always lose when it comes to Miguel and his horny needs.

“I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side, no one will notice.” He reply’s, smirking. *damn him and his irresistible grin.* With one last glance at him, you lift your head to look around, there’s no one around that could *actually*see what you two are going to do; you’ve been cuddling here for the past hour anyway, nothing different. With a grin of your own, you scoot up closer to your chests are pressed together, your face coming in contact with neck. Your breathes leaving goose bumps across his smooth skin.

“Did you really expect me to not do anything when you’re walking around with those strings you call a bikini? Mi amor, we both know I couldn’t.” There’s an airy chuckle at the end of his sentence, indicating his poor excuse of a joke. With a roll of your eyes, you situate your legs to either side of his waist then grind your hips into his pelvis, earning a low groan from his mouth and a tighter grip to the inside of your thigh. You smirk at the sound, your lips coming to suck at the column of his neck, leaving red and purple cruises in your wake, the occasional bite mark as well.

“Mi vida, stop distracting me, mierda de mierda…” he groans out, earning a laugh out of you, but you never cease your attack on him, thought you do lick and kiss the markings you’ve left. Miguel’s lets out a hum at your kisses and sighs when you suck on a particularly sensitive spot, another shiver surfing his body. With not much warning, his pointer finger pulls the thin string of cloth away from your folds before his middle finger comes to slowly trace circles around your hole, teasingly sliding in a bit before pulling it out and tracing consecutive patterns on your clit.

“Ai,,Miguel…you wanted this, no..no teasing..” you manage to huff out from his assault to your most sensitive parts. With a low laugh, his long and thick finger glides in with ease into your canal. You let out a shaky and loud moan, trying to cover it by biting down roughly on his shoulder; the man lets out a slight hiss at the feeling, yet he doesn’t complain. As the one finger inside of you starts gently moving and thrusting inside of you, a second one starts to inch it’s way inside, nudging in with the other one, the slight stretch making you whimper quietly. Miguel’s bites his lip as he closes his eyes, smirking, he loves how he can make you melt with only his hands…just wait to he takes out his awaiting *package*..

Your nails start leaving crescents on his biceps, chest, and even his forearms as well, anywhere you could reach had your markings on them. Miguel bit his lip harder at the contact, reminiscing in your sighs and moans. With a groan, you finally give him, with a beating heart and laboring breathing, you move up so you’re completely face to face with him, your faces mere inches apart, you can feel his hot breath on your already sweaty face.

“Miguel…” you huff out, hands coming to cup either side of his jaw, “If you don’t fuck me in the next 2 seconds I’m leaving.” You threaten, you both know that it’s not true but the warning was there. That’s all that Miguel’s needs before pushing the padding away and finally sliding his eager cock into you, the both of your letting out dangerously loud moans. His mouths falls open in a silent moan, his eyes squeezed shut in hopes to forever remember this moment.

“Oh, mi amor, oh mierda.” He calls out gently, breathing deeply at he fully sheathed himself inside of you, filling you up entirely. “Fuck, I love how your pussy feels, so tight, just for me.” He grunts softly, his hips coming to ever so slowly retreat then push back in, making you moan out again, more drawn out at his slow pace. His large hands come to grasp the flesh of her waist tightly, his fingers digging into your soft flesh roughly, the feeling of them making you become mush in his palms, much to his pleasure. As you both reminisce in the feeling of him filling you to the brim, Miguel realizes that there isn’t much time to spare and soon enough starts bringing more power to his once gently thrusting. Knowing that speed would just bring more attention, he resorts to deep, slow thrusts, you don’t mind at all. Getting to lay on his chest while his dick completely and utterly turns you into mush is amazing. Just as you thought it couldn’t get better, one of his hands from your side carefully slides its way to your neglected, swollen clit and starts rubbing medium paced circles on it, causing your eyes to cross and for you to latch your mouth onto his own, trying your very best to muffle your loud sounds (in which it never actually worked.) With a short chuckle and smile, his hips continue their attack on your pelvis, but as he slides into you over and over again, he grinds his hips up for more friction, which causes the two of you to let out groans and whimpers.

“Cariño, estoy cerca, joder..” he pants out, his grinding becoming more frequent the closer he gets to his release. You nod in agreement, the feeling of his rough patted fingers against your sensitive clit has you seeing stars, *he always knows how to rub you the right way, literally.* “You like it when I stuff my cock in that pretty pussy, mija? You like it when there’s so many people who could catch us right now? Yeah? You like that idea of being caught, huh?” You can only hide your face in the crook of his neck at his words, whimpering when his pace gets slightly faster when he’s about to cum.

“Oh Miguel,..I’m gonna cum..I’m cumming I-I’m cu-cumming!-“ before you can even finish your sentence, the familiar waves of ecstasy wash over you. It crashes onto you like the shallow waves of the lake, crash after crash it has you whining and clawing at any part of Miguel’s body, legs right and shaking around his hips, which would have caused him to laugh if it weren’t for him also hitting his orgasm at the same time. You feel the squirts of cum shoot into you the second his hips still, his grip on your hip gets uncomfortably tight as the hand on her mound slows down to a slow stop.

As the shocks of the orgasms ware off, you take a minute to admire Miguel’s body and face; features all sweaty, that crease in his brow that only ever happens when he’s concentrated, his eyes have fluttered shut as his long lashed rest of his chiseled cheeks, his mouth is open in heavy pants as is yours, but what makes it even more admirable, is his hair basically framing his face, sticking to his forehead and cheeks, it makes him look like an angel.

“Oh (y/n)…fuck, I love you, you’re perfect,” he suddenly slurs out, a dreamy smile on his face. You can’t help but let out an airy laugh at his words, a shaky hand coming to floss the hair from his face to his back into the rest of his head of hair.

“Yo también te quiero, Miguel,” you respond, making him smile even more dreamily. You don’t even care if you get cause at this point, all you want is this amazing alone down together, intimate as the moon light reflects off of the abounded water of the lake. It was perfect

Feel free to comment something you liked or not! :)

[dingochef]

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x You (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (MDNI 18+ Only), Dirty Talk, Mutual Masturbation, Comeplay

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: A rainy day and a random board game lets you and Jake to get to know each other better and more intimately.

Masterlist

Truth

"El, I'm bored," Jake whines from the couch where he is stretched out. You're assuming he's still there because the back of the sofa blocks your view from the kitchen. All you can see of your very tall muscular aviator boyfriend is his bare feet kicking, only slightly like a petulant toddler, in the air as he restates his current state of boredom.

"It's one day of rain, Jake. Even in San Diego it happens," you say, advancing out of the kitchen with a beer and a gin and tonic. He rolls over as you approach and perks up when you hand him the beer, an aggressive IPA he's currently obsessed with. He sits up taking the drink from you. You plunk yourself down on the couch and his arm automatically goes around you.

"Enjoy the down time, we're caught up on laundry, worked out this morning, have dinner ready to go in the oven. It's 2 pm on a rainy Sunday and we have no obligations. Let's just chill and enjoy doing nothing," you say.

"Fine, I'll take your offer of cuddling with my smoking hot girlfriend and day drinking," he sighs. You sit contentedly for a few minutes listening to the rain before Jake gets antsy again.

"Let's do something," he pleads.

"How about a board game?" you ask, not entirely sure where that idea came from.

"We have board games?" Jake asks.

You nod and pop off the couch striding towards the guest room.

"In here," you say and point to a cardboard box in the bottom of the closet. Jake pulls it out and opens it up. He pulls out a few classic games and holds them up for you to consider, including Monopoly.

"Nope, last time I played that two people got into a fist fight and we had to find an emergency dentist" you reply and Jake puts it down on the growing pile.

The usual classics like Risk, Life, and few others join the stack.

A devilish and wide smile blooms on his face,

"Oh I think we're going to play this one, El," he says, grinning as he holds up a hot pink box the size of a deck of cards that says,

"Only the Truth, X Rated Edition."

"Oh my god," you groan, "I thought I got rid of that."

You reach for the box but Jake stands up and holds the box up high above your head. He uses every one of the eleven inches he is taller than you to evade your grasp.

Crossing your arms, you give up. The urge to climb him like a tree fading as you try not to pout,

"Lydia got it for me as a gag gift. I can't believe I still have it."

Jake reads the back of the box, in a low sultry voice,

"Get to know everything spicy about your lover or someone you hope will be with this fun and exciting game. Easy setup and clothing optional."

He wags his eyebrows at the last sentence.

Rolling your eyes, you agree,

"Fine, we can play it but you have to make the next round of drinks."

Jake snickers,

"Because making a G&T is sooo hard," he grabs your hand and pulls you to the couch. He rips the box open and peels off the plastic wrap. You pick up the folded paper directions and read them.

"Umm, we can either go through the deck in order increasing 'spiciness' or," the sound of shuffling cards distracts you, "Mix them up."

You look up and Jake is sheepishly neatening up the cards on the table. "Well that decision has been made," you sigh,

"Says everyone has to answer the question, truthfully."

Jake nods and draws a card. He snickers,

"Well that's a doozy to start with. Worst sex partner.”

You take a swig of your drink,

“Second serious boyfriend in college. He was just lazy, only liked missionary and would do this weird horizontal thing every other thrust. It did nothing for me. Once he’d come he was out andI had to take care of myself. We didn’t last long after we started sleeping together. Not the greatest kisser and never gave me oral. My rule is that I have to get oral before I give. So you were a wise man to go down on me right away.”

A smile blooms across Jake's face as he relives the exact moment you're referring to.

"Your turn," you tease in a sing-song voice.

He takes a breath and groans,

“My first one night stand, while I was at Academy. Went home with a local girl and she just kind of laid there despite anything I tried to do, not that I was the most experienced at that point in my life, but I was enthusiastic. When we went doggy style, she moaned so loudly kind of like a donkey every time I pushed into her. It was distracting and weird. When she finally came, she didn’t make a sound and then just got out of bed and left me to my own devices. Yeah, that was definitely the worst.”

You snicker at the thought of a young Jake trying his hand at sleeping around. It's your turn to draw a card and you pull one of the garish pink cards off the deck and read aloud the question,

"Who was your first kiss? Huh, that must have been one of the starter questions."

“Sandra Leonard, 6th grade at a dance. You?” Jake responds.

“Mark Simmons, Homecoming dance, sophomore year of high school," you answer.

“A bit of a late bloomer?” Jake asks.

“Yeah, I didn’t really have time for much social stuff when I was training for the Olympics. Your turn.”

Jake pulls another card,

“What is your favorite genre of porn?"

“Ooh, good one. I’d probably say Gay," you answer, enjoying how Jake’s eyebrows raise.

“One, the guys are always hot and hung,” that earns a hearty laugh from him, “The guys are genuinely aroused and actually get off. There’s no exploiting a woman just for a man’s pleasure. Everyone enjoys themselves.”

He considers your words and nods in agreement. There is a brief gleam of mischief in his eye as takes a swig of beer before answering the question,

"Granny."

You're not smooth enough to school your facial features into a neutral look, whatever thought you're having is on your face making Jake laugh.

“Just kidding, I’m a pretty straight laced guy, usual man/woman couples, lesbian, and solo women.”

“Those are pretty mainstream, although that would have been the time to slip in any weird fetish you’ve been holding back. Not to kink shame you or anything."

Jake laughs,

“I promise you don’t have anything too crazy in the spank bank, just being around you is enough to get me going at an instant.”

He leans over to kiss you, the taste of the IPA heavy on his lips.

"Mmm, you taste like a pine tree. My turn!"

You read the next card aloud,

“Who was your first steady boyfriend/girlfriend?”

“Tiffany Meadows, she was my girlfriend through high school. We broke up when we went away to college. Thanks or no thanks to Facebook, I know she is happily living as a suburban stay at home Mom in Dallas with three kids.”

“Melvin Markham, freshman year of college. He was a fellow gymnast at Notre Dame. He was two years older than me.”

Jake draws the next card,

“Who'd you lose your virginity to and where?”

“Melvin, freshman year, he lived off campus. Couldn't get away with a lot of the dorms at Notre Dame, nuns and other minders everywhere.”

“I’m just laughing at the idea of you sneaking around nuns to get sexed up.”

“The joys of going to a Catholic university.”

“Sounds more strict than the academy. Which is saying something.”

“Your turn.”

“Tiffany, my senior year of high school, in her bedroom when her parents were out of town for the weekend.”

Jake picks up the next card,

"Have you ever slept with someone of the same gender?"

"First of all, what a heteronormative question, but yes I have slept with a woman, once."

Jake perks up,

"Details, please."

You pause, and then tell him,

“You have to swear never to let anyone know, especially the person I’m going to mention and their significant other. Swear you won’t.”

You hold out your pinky for the most solemn of all oaths, Jake laughs at your seriousness and agrees,

“Pinky promise.”

“Lydia and I had sex one time in college," you blurt out, enjoying how Jake's eyes bug out a little as he tries not to spit his poorly timed sip of beer out. After a few coughs his look shifts as he is probably imagining you and Lydia having sex. You give him a mock slap to stop his imagination running away on him.

“I don’t think you know, but Lydia is bisexual. She’s had a few girlfriends here and there but has tended towards men in the past couple years. Well, we were a little tipsy one night in my dorm room and Lydia confided in me she was attracted to girls, but was scared to do anything about it. She was afraid of getting involved with a girl and getting to that stage and realizing that it wasn’t for her. My tipsy brain, plus it almost feels like a rite of cliche passage for college girls now, thought the perfect solution was for Lydia and me to mess around for her to see if she liked it and I was curious too. It was good, a lot different than being with a guy, all soft and smooth versus hard muscles and stubble. I like being penetrated too much to be exclusively a lesbian, good for you.”

“What happened the next morning? Did things get weird?” he asks, his curiosity getting to him.

“It was surprisingly okay the next day. Lydia said thanks for helping her figure out some stuff. I let her know it wasn't my cup of tea, but that I was glad she got to explore that with someone she trusted. I think our friendship is so strong that that bond prevailed rather than a romantic or sexual one.”

You can tell Jake’s mind is blown.

“That’s incredibly…sweet in a way. And yes I’m glad you enjoy dick, specifically my dick.”

"You're welcome, now it's your turn.”

“Nothing quite as poetic as yours, but a few things have happened at sea. It’s really hard to say no to anyone who wants to suck your dick, female or male, when you’ve not had sex for months. You say yes and it feels polite to at least reciprocate a hand job.”

“Makes sense, and seems like a nice thing to do.”

You pull the next card,

"What sex act do you want to try?"

"I really want to watch you get yourself off, the whole thing without any help from me. I know you have some toys, but never seem to bring them out during sex."

"I didn't know you'd be okay with that."

"Want to see how you use them, give me some ideas for later. Plus it'd be like my own personal porn."

"Okay, I think I can do that."

Jake looks at me,

"What do you want to try?"

"I like the idea of some roleplay." He raises an eyebrow,

"What specifically?"

"Like the idea of us meeting up somewhere at a bar as strangers and you picking me up for a one night stand. Maybe fucking in the parking lot."

"I like that idea, we can definitely work that one out,"

The rain starts to come down harder, a dull roar on the roof.

You put your drink down on the table and take Jake's beer to join your glass. Your hands free you move to straddle Jake's strong thighs,

"All this talk of sex stuff has got me going, you want to check?"

Jake's hand slides down under your dress, up your thigh, and to your warm core. His jaw flexes the moment he realizes you forwent underwear. A strong finger ghosts over your clit causing you to gasp and slides into your wet opening.

"Fuck, El, you're soaked."

"Want to try out your idea?"

Jake nods enthusiastically,

"Yes, El, whatever you're comfortable with."

Slowly you stand up and pull Jake up with you. He follows you as you lead him by the hand to the bedroom. You pull the armchair that usually sits in the corner of the room to the foot of the bed and motion for him to sit. He complies and adjusts himself when he sits down, just the initial idea getting him excited and starting to tent his pants.

After arranging the pillows on the bed to your liking you pull out your trusty vibrator. The ridiculous pink and sparkly coloring a bit much in the muted daylight of the bedroom. The lube is fished out of the top drawer of your nightstand and placed on the bed next to the toy. Jake is watching you intently as you go through your preparations; finally you strip the dress you have on, letting it fall to the floor as you slide onto the bed naked.

"You okay, El?" Jake asks, soft concern on his face.

"I'm good, Jake. Enjoy the show," you respond. Leaning back into the pillows, you have your legs modestly together still, knees touching. You know that you wouldn't go through all these motions if it was just you, but that's the fun of the fantasy, everything is just a bit heightened, a bit more production value.

Making sure your supplies are within arms reach you start to caress yourself, long sweeps of your body and curves. Your hands glide over your breasts, down the slope of your stomach, to the outer and inner reaches of your thighs, but you don't touch your pussy yet.

The soothing touch entices you to close your eyes and just enjoy the sensations of skin on skin. On your next round your hands stop on your breasts, cupping them and rolling your nipples between your fingers gently. The action pulls a light moan out of you and for the first time since you started Jake speaks,

"El," he rasps, his voice thick, "Talk to me, tell me what you're thinking about, what you're imagining."

A slight flush creeps on your cheeks, somehow this feels so much more intimate than some of the things you done with Jake and you realize because he's really the first person you've ever let this far into your life, your mind, and your heart. You trust him with all of you, so you take a little settling breath and start to talk, with your hands squeezing your tits and nipples.

"I love how big your hands are, how they feel on me. How you can just cover big parts of my body with one hand, makes me feel protected."

You let one hand slide down to your apex and gently part your folds and your legs finally open to Jake's gaze. A deep groan resonates from the end of the bed when your legs fully part exposing your glistening cunt.

You tease around your pussy, letting your fingers dance on your lips as you hold them open with your other hand.

"The way you eat my pussy like it's your last meal drives me crazy. If it were up to me I'd keep you between my legs all the time. Under my desk at work, here in our bed, anywhere I could get you, because no one, no one, has ever eaten my pussy as good as you do Jake."

You finally give in and let your fingers slide over your clit and down into your wet slit. Gathering some of your slick on your fingers you rub small circles around your clit. A soft sigh of relief escapes from your lips as some of the ache eases with your motions. You take the opportunity to look at Jake and he has slipped his sweats and boxer briefs down releasing his dick. His hard cock is in his hand, precum leaking out the tip. His green eyes look dark and intense as they watch your every move.

Your mouth waters at the thought taking him in your mouth, you begin to speak again, your sex stream of consciousness if you will,

"Love your cock, Jake. The taste. I want it in me all the time, my mouth, my pussy. We should try cockwarming. Think about having me wrapped all around you while we do something, like watch a movie and see how long we can hold out being that close and connected to each other without fucking our brains out." The image of you just being with Jake, perched on his dick gets you going even more and your fingers begin to speed up on your clit. You decide it's time to get the vibrator involved. When you pull your hands away to get the toy and lube, Jake lets out a little whine of disappointment.

You apply some lube to the vibrator and click the cap shut before tossing it to the foot of the bed for Jake. Laying back you hear the click of the lube cap and know Jake has slicked himself up. You click the toy on, and tease it down your body to your pussy. Even then you don't go straight in, enjoying the pleasant vibrations on your clit and swirling it around your hole to heighten the anticipation some more.

"I need to get a bigger vibrator, this one feels small compared to you," you pant out as you tease yourself with the aforementioned toy. Jake huffs out a small laugh at your statement.

"I like how you stretch me when you first slide in," you try to say in a sultry voice as you slide the vibe in, slowly pumping it in and out. The sounds of Jake's breaths speed up.

The satisfaction of knowing how turned on he is spurs you to keep talking,

"I like to think of all the ways you've taken me, how we've fucked, Jake. I always love it when you push me up against a wall and just rail me," you can't help but let out a loud moan at the thought and memory,

"Going as deep as you can, can practically feel your dick in my throat and almost taste it."

A small "fuck me" rumbles from Jake's mouth and you continue to let the dirty talk spill out of your mouth.

"Or when you take me from behind, it lets you slap my ass how I like it. I love seeing your big hand prints on my ass."

With that last verbal volley, everything speeds up. You click the next level on the vibrator, pump it faster, and rub your clit harder on your quest to come undone.

The sounds of slicked up movement mixed with Jake's heavy breathing and muted grunts at the foot of the bed tell you he's getting closer to his own release. You hold your head up long enough to take in the sight of Jake, shirt discarded somewhere along the way, muscles tensed, eyes transfixed on your movements as he slides his hand up and down his cock.

Your own climax is building rapidly and you start to shout as you peak,

"So close, Jake,I'm coming, fuck yes, oh my god."

You finally break into that plane of bliss and the pleasure washes over you as you thrash about on the bed.

Chest heaving, you pull the vibrator out and turn it off. You collapse, boneless, into the softness of the bed.

The bed dips and Jake crawls up to kiss you. It is hard and messy, saliva and tongues as he keeps up his rhythm on his dick, slowly jerking it as he hovers above you.

"El, how you keep getting sexier and sexier I don't know, watching you get yourself off and knowing how much you think about me got me so fucking hard. Can't wait to fuck you after this," he pants against your lips.

You grasp his cock, displacing his hand, as you moan,

"I want you to come," you pause, "Come on me."

"Fuck, El."

You speed up your strokes on his dick, his eyes starting to screw shut as he focuses on you.

Jake lets out a deep moan as his

hands grasp and bunch the comforter on either side of your head.

"El, I'm going to come," he pants, his hips bucking into your hand.

"Want you to feel good. Come for me."

That is the magic set of words that pulls Jake's release from him, warm spurts of come land on your chest as a loud strangled grunt emits from Jake his head pulled back, veins bulging on his neck, chest heaving.

"Holy fuck, El," he groans out as he flops on his back next to you on the bed. He looks your way just in time to watch you drag a finger through the mess on your chest and bring it to your lips to clean.

He groans, almost painfully,

"You're going to kill me, El. Jacob Thomas Seresin dead by sex at age 33."

You laugh and stretch your neck over to him to catch his lips in a sweet kiss. "That was the one of the sexiest things I've ever seen," he says against your lips. You pull back enough to look Jake in the eyes.

"I'm glad you liked it."

He laughs,

"I loved it."

You find Jake's hand with your own and interweave your fingers together.

"I've never done that with anyone," you say into the space between you,

"I didn't really trust any guy enough to give them an all access pass to my brain and body.

Jake raises your intertwined hands and kisses your knuckles softly,

"I'm honored I'm the first and last man who gets this privilege."

You raise an eyebrow,

"The last?"

"Darling, I'm never letting you go."

"Ditto."

"I'm thinking we need to explore that porn shower of yours some more and clean you up," Jake says pulling you up.

"Sounds lovely, lead the way, Jake."

@mygyn

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@dempy

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[boinin]

Broken Hero: Kunigami's journey in the Neo Egoist League

Overanalysing one edgy orange

0. Background and references

This weekend, I read an excellent analysis on Kunigami on Reddit (it spawns things other than fraud allegations and thirst posts sometimes)... and I was not OK as a result.

I'd been building up to writing an analysis of Kunigami's character for some time, and when the hyperfocus kicked in, it kicked in hard.

Come with me to explore how Kunigami's character arc and journey may pan out within the Neo Egoist League. Manga spoilers throughout, including up to the latest chapters (226 at time of writing).

I'd highly recommend reading StarBurstero's analysis (and their other work!) as this piece heavily draws on the points they raise.

All manga panels are sourced from the official translations, due to the possibility of nuance and foreshadowing that may not arise in scanlations.

Like this? Want to reference these points in your own analysis, on Reddit, YouTube, wherever? Go ahead! A shout out to this post is appreciated. (Straight up plagiarism isn't.)

Pre-Wildcard Kunigami: a wannabe hero

Kunigami has his grumpier moments in the first selection (see: him yeeting Bachira, or breaking up fights), but all in all he's a stand up guy. That's clear from his interaction with Isagi in the cafeteria, where they both share his goal-point steak.

Another character defining moment for him takes place after Team Z's victory against Team V. Kunigami doesn't support Kuon's actions, but he is willing to forgive him now that all has been settled. Raichi is decidedly less forgiving. But Kunigami lingers, and helps a bloodied Kuon to his feet. The choice of dialogue is interesting.

We'll advance together. We know this won't be the case. Both Kuon and Kunigami fail in the second selection, and Kunigami is the sole participant that leaves Wild Card.

But nevertheless, this exchange showcases Kunigami's core attitude. He sees the best in people. He values teamwork and unity, even if he shows egotism in relation to his own goals. He's someone that helps others.

2. What canon information do we have on Wild Card?

...just crumbs. Information on Wild Card has been intentionally vague, with only Ego, Kunigami, and possibly Noa knowing what happened.

Ego simply calls it a secondary route for the losers, and doesn't specify whether there were any entry requirements. The pile of bodies and the attention given to hands suggests two things.

Firstly, contrary to my own assumptions, Wild Card was likely open to all participants eliminated during the second selection. Ego threw the losers a bone, despite having a very specific outcome in mind. The vast majority wouldn't have had a hope of meeting the criteria.

Is that cruel? Maybe. But it's consistent with Ego's attitude towards "lumps of talent". He admitted both Chigiri and Isagi into Blue Lock despite their lacklustre performances in high school, on the basis that the programme might bring forth their sealed egos. He was proven correct.

The focus on hands, other than being creepy, hints at ambidexterity being a key deciding factor in the Wild Card programme. Kunigami confirms this above, in a panel from chapter 213.

Kunigami himself refers to Wild Card as a survival battle, where participants had to match Noa's physical specs number for number. He implicitly confirms that he himself got the closest to Noel Noa's physical abilities, thus winning Wild Card.

3. Kunigami's mindset

We're all Isagi in the bottom corner of that last panel, wanting to know more. But Kunigami has yet to elaborate.

In the Reddit post I linked, StarBurstero theorises what's going through Kunigami's angsty little head: becoming the best striker. Not a midfielder, not a false nine - a striker, and only that. The author proposes that, having had to crush and eliminate everyone in Wild Card, Kunigami has limited empathy for those such as Isagi and Kurona, who are remoulding themselves into other roles to fit into Bastard Munchen.

This tallies with how Noa sees himself, in explaining the distinction between him (the world's best striker), and Snuffy (the world's best player) in chapter 223.

As a player Isagi is closer to Snuffy, in terms of his ability and willingness to adapt, than he is to Noa. Isagi is willing to do whatever it takes to participate in the Neo Egoist League, even if this means providing assists or playing in midfield. But he still maintains his dream of playing as a striker.

As different as Kunigami and Isagi are on the surface, they share a dream. Both want to be the best strikers in the world. In that, they're a lot more similar than the fandom give them credit for.

But the conditions of the Neo-Egoist League pose a stumbling block.

There are limited forward positions, not only in Bastard Munchen, but on the national team itself. To nab a starting position for the U20 World Cup, the characters have only two choices: outshine everyone else playing as a forward, or forsake their dream by assuming a different position. They must choose wisely.

4. Resolve versus adaptability: the Bastard Munchen test

Thematically, Isagi and Kunigami are reflections of one another. They are each others "what ifs?" in a sense.

Heroes in the first selection, both Isagi and Kunigami faced elimination in the 2v2 stage of the second selection; Isagi survived, while Kunigami lost. Isagi emerged as the hero of Blue Lock, following the U20 Japan match. At the same time, Kunigami battled to become the "hero" of Wild Card.

Eventually Kunigami joined Bastard Munchen, alongside Isagi. But they're not co-operative teammates as they were before. They're rivals, battling against one another for the role of striker on this team.

Theirs is a quiet competition, secondary to Isagi and Kaiser's more hostile conflict. But I believe there's thematic significance to their rivalry. For this reason, it's interesting to trace their dynamic over time.

Isagi considered himself outclassed by Kunigami in the first selection. Back then, Kunigami didn't the same "goal sense" that Isagi had. He wasn't particularly technical as a player. He relied on passes and his physicality to get the ball and score goals, using his strength to reliably score from a distance. He's still extremely impressive, in Isagi's eyes.

As Isagi sees it, Kunigami's key attribute is his resolve. He trains hard to maintain his physique. He has a clear vision of who he is, and what kind of footballer he wants to be. At the same point in the story, Isagi lacks this. Even at the start of the Neo-Egoist League, Isagi struggles to articulate what his ideal form is as a player, which Noa calls him out on.

It's understandable that Isagi struggles to formulate what his ideal is, because Isagi's genius lies in his adaptability. Throughout the manga, Isagi has been placed into situations that are chaotic, novel and difficult. His approach to football and his abilities have been challenged in every match, and he's been forced to rebuild himself over and over again.

This is what makes Isagi exceptional, in addition to his incredible eyesight and football sense. He's constantly evolving, constantly coming up with ways to beat his competition. No wonder he can't settle on an ideal, when he's been forced to change constantly. All he's certain of is his desire to play as a striker.

5. Chasing strikers: Isagi's journey

Isagi's problem is that he's never been the best striker in Blue Lock. It's his dream to play as one, but purely in terms of his ability to convert opportunities into goals, Isagi is outclassed by a number of players. Rin. Nagi. Shidou. Arguably Barou.

When these players receive the ball near the goal, their ability to put it through the goalposts is simply better than Isagi's. They have the physique, the strength, or the technical skill to outmanoeuvre whatever obstacles are in the way. This is also true of Kaiser: both have metavision, but Kaiser is far better at scoring, as Isagi himself admits. Kaiser is another prodigy, like Nagi or Sae.

Kunigami is also better at securing goals than Isagi is. However, he's not a prodigy, and he lacks Isagi's insane playmaking ability. Nor does he have Ness, Kurona or Yukimiya on his side. Nobody on the team has a reason to support Kunigami or his goal-scoring competence. Least of all, Isagi: his rival for the position of striker in Bastard Munchen, and his antithesis in a sense.

While Isagi assisted Kunigami in the Barcha match, he does so to stay relevant, after Noa threatens to bench them both.

In the Manshine match, Kunigami poaches Isagi's goal attempt. As furious as Isagi is in this moment, it's not obvious that Isagi's shot would have gone in by itself. He targeted the corner of the goal, but the trajectory appears to veer up and left, beyond the goal.

Kaiser alludes to the shot's inaccuracy, and Isagi acknowledges his shortcomings after the match ends. While his eyesight is his "god given gift", he realises that he lacks the physical ability to make his foresight a reality, per this conversation with Hiori.

Who else does he approach?

While he has the wrong idea (seeking Kunigami's advice on becoming ambidextrous), Isagi's dialogue is on the nose.

Kunigami has what Isagi lacks: the physique and ability needed to consistently score goals. Halfway through the Neo-Egoist League, Isagi realises that to secure a position as a forward, he needs to emulate Kunigami in some way. His hard training pays off: his ranking jumps six points between the Manshine and Ubers matches.

Kunigami is a mirror that Isagi looks into and learns from. And like a morphing reflection, their positions are starting to reverse. While Kunigami performed better initially in the Neo-Egoist League, both in training and in the Barcha match, now Isagi is coming to the fore as the strongest Blue Lock player in Bastard Munchen. His performance in Manshine was incredible. His playmaking in the Ubers match so far surpasses it.

If they are intended to be mirrors, then what can Kunigami learn from his reflection: Isagi?

6. Inert hero: Kunigami's arc

Analysing Isagi is straightforward. We have access to his thoughts and development, all the way through Blue Lock. The same can't be said for Kunigami, whose POV was shown rarely during the first and second selection, but not once since his return in Chapter 155.

There's still conclusions we can draw, despite leaning into extrapolation territory.

Kunigami has always trained hard. The Volume 3 omake (Team Z's schedule) alludes to the guy spending every hour he can in the gym.

While Kunigami entered Blue Lock at a higher level than arguably anyone in Team Z, he stagnated as his teammates rapidly developed. He doesn't have a documented awakening, unlike the other Egoist Four characters. The single moment of progression shown was his first goal against Team V, but this was more Kunigami challenging his limits than truly evolving.

My theory is that this goes back to his key attribute: resolve. His formula of working hard and playing consistently has worked so far. Why change?

Other characters like Isagi experienced failures and setbacks prior to and during Blue Lock, but we don't see Kunigami experience anything similar until the second selection.

It's unfortunate that he only experiences a first setback in losing to Team White. Had a moment of failure taken place earlier, the second selection may have played out differently for Kunigami. As it was, this segment of Blue Lock was not forgiving of mistakes. Only players who could adapt and evolve, devour and be devoured, made it to the third selection.

Kunigami just didn't have that adaptability. It's contrary to his nature of working hard, consistently and fairly.

Shidou remarks on Kunigami's resolute nature explicitly after their 2v2 match. It's why he chooses Reo over Kunigami.

Analysis often focuses on Shidou's criticism of Kunigami's heroic idealism, given that Kunigami goes on to reject this himself. But the second point Shidou makes is more important. He's really critiquing Kunigami's inability to adapt and react, not his strength or his motivation. But Kunigami seemingly only internalises the first part.

Failure in the second selection made Kunigami discard heroism as his motivation, in addition to the conditioning forced on him in Wild Card. But Kunigami continues to struggle, even after leaving his so-called naivety in hell.

He came out of Wild Card stronger, faster, and more competent at scoring. It's still not enough to out-do Kaiser and impress Noa in the Barcha match.

If Kunigami took Shidou's words to heart, he might consider his success in Wild Card proof that he can break himself down and be rebuilt. At a minimum, we can speculate that Wild Card consisted of the participants being deconstructed piece by piece, egos eroded and replaced with a drive to become Noel Noa's "vessel".

But in truth, Kunigami already had a lot of the traits needed to become Noa's copycat. Other than developing ambidexterity and packing on even more muscle, the "breaking down" that took place was really the overwriting of his idealism with that of Noa's.

When Ego considers the ways participants may succeed in the Neo-Egoist League, both Isagi and Kunigami are pictured. At the present stage in the manga, Isagi seems to be the fish adapting to his environment and thriving - slowly dyeing the fabric of Bastard Munchen to suit his playstyle.

Kunigami is the one suffocating, unable to breath in this claustrophobic environment.

His core issue - his lack of adaptability - persists. He is unwilling to consider being anything else than a pure striker. In the Neo-Egoist League to date, he has failed to make chemical reactions with anyone.

If Isagi is a universal catalyst, Kunigami is inert. For now.

7. Hero rebuilt: Kunigami, secondary protagonist

Kunigami is an important part of the Neo-Egoist League arc. Not only is he a returning character, but a significant parallel to Isagi. It's no coincidence that they are presented together in many of the panels relating to the arc as a whole.

There's a lot of symbolism in Blue Lock. The panel announcing the Neo-Egoist League establishes Isagi and Kunigami as dual protagonists, with Kaiser as the primary antagonist. The end of the Barcha match really reinforces the idea that these characters are the main heroes within Bastard Munchen.

Isagi has been on a learning journey from the beginning of this arc, starting with his underdog struggle against Kaiser. If Kunigami's journey is a mirror of Isagi's, then we can expect him to encounter his most difficult hurdle later in the arc, leading to an epiphany about his playstyle. At this point, it's fair to conclude this will happen in Bastard Munchen's match against Paris X Gen.

These are my outstanding questions about Kunigami's journey, which I believe the manga must eventually address:

What will be Kunigami's darkest hour: the low point where he realises he must change or die (metaphorically)?

When he overcomes this moment and emerges stronger, like a phoenix - what will Kunigami's true ego be? Will he return to his original heroism, or strike a balance between his past and present selves? Hero and Wild Card, accepting both?

I'm not going to delve much into Question 2. Hero, Wild Card, Dark Horse, Phoenix - all of these could work as a manifestation of Kunigami's ego. The only thing I can say with confidence is that his ego will manifest. This has been the case for each of the other Egoist Four characters (although Isagi's true ego remains in flux). Personally, I'd like to see an ego manifestation that reconciles the personas of pre- and post-Wild Card Kunigami. I trust the writer and mangaka will serve on that front when the time comes.

On question 1, the fandom (and myself) are hyped for a particular reunion. It's hard to imagine a better catalyst for Kunigami's change than the person that sent him to Wild Card in the first place: a literal demon, the manifestation of Kunigami's internal woes.

Shidou is the opposite of Kunigami in many ways, when they encounter each other in the second selection. Although both are strong with imposing physical abilities, Shidou is chaotic while Kunigami is lawful; Shidou abhors dull players, the ones that cannot spark "explosions", while Kunigami sees Shidou as a violent psychopath. Shidou has no qualms in crushing weaker players. Kunigami defends them, regardless of their nature.

But Kunigami has changed greatly since their last encounter. He and Shidou have more in common than before. In Wild Card, Kunigami had to learn how to crush the weak, despite his inclination to advance together. He's had to become more aloof, more violent even, to survive in Wild Card and in the Neo Egoist League. He's more resolute in becoming the world's best striker than ever.

But Kunigami still doesn't know how to explode. He doesn't have chemical reactions with other players. The part of him that valued teamwork died in Wild Card. Compare this to Shidou, who thrives off what he calls explosions. He adores Sae, because their chemistry on the field made Shidou soar. Sae unleashes Shidou's inner dragon.

I believe in facing Shidou, who will form reactions with his supportive teammates, Kunigami will come to realise that he cannot overcome his demons without assistance from outside. He'll realise his heroism was never the issue: it was his lack of adaptability. To overcome Shidou, Kunigami will need a catalyst to create a chemical reaction.

Luckily, Bastard Munchen has the one person capable of reacting with anyone: the embodiment of adaptability. Who better to set the true Kunigami free than his idealogical mirror? The one person who, thematically, has been by his side since the start?

A link-up between Isagi and Kunigami - dual protagonists, reflections of one another - would be an amazing way to round off both Isagi and Kunigami's journeys in the Neo Egoist League. Even better if the final goal against Paris X Gen is the result of their genuine teamwork - mirroring their resentful co-operation during the Barcha match.

I'm manifesting this and I hope you might too. If for no other reason because... can you imagine the look on Kaiser's face if this happens?

Absolute gold.

---

If you read to the end, thank you! I'd love to hear my fellow nerds thoughts on this and Kunigami generally.

Further reading: short analysis of Kunigami's effectiveness on the pitch up to chapter 232.

[pangtasias-atelier]

Fortuna's New Big Star

Kinda thought I already posted this oopsie, but enjoy this longer story commissioned by @maletfgrowthblog involving Ki-ria and male tf along with some macro and musclechub. Cause I definitely enjoyed practicing teehee. And messing with the male cast cause tms is a guilty pleasure of mine.

The crowded, busy streets of Shibuya a flurry of activity every waking hour of the day, and even well into the night, the closed off area is no shabby exception. A concert scheduled months in advance —the preannouncement done before summer had even begun— the immediately sold out concert had promptly become the summer event of the year in the entirety of Japan. And even beyond, already booked and busy hotels swamped with orders from foreigners lucky enough in scoring tickets to Fortuna Entertainment’s summer bash. Though the concert had been initially planned in drawing out the company’s enemies, remnants of mirages once again appearing despite Medeus’ defeat. So many people around, a concert consisting of their own in-house talent —each and every one of them more than capable enough mirage masters— had been the perfect excuse to have all hands on deck, the public all too happy to see Fortuna’s contracted performers all together for the first time with the company’s true reasons unknown to them.

The entire lineup drip fed to the adoring and crazed fandom over multiple weeks, the opening/intermissionary act of Itsuki had come as no surprise to anyone, the still blooming artist a perfect way to open the show and fill in between artists without supposedly wasting Fortuna Entertainment's heavy hitters in a lineup of heavy hitters. 

Which had caused every single news outfit in Japan to cover the countrywide cheer and appraisal when Kiria had been announced as the very last artist to perform on the first day of summer.

But unlike everyone else —and unlike even her fellow performers— Kiria thinks nothing of the decision, Maiko never wrong in whatever she puts her mind to. The still bright afternoon of the day's clear, sunny sky makes for the perfect weather for the outside concert. The crowd booms as they scream and cheer for yet another of Itsuki’s intermissions. The walls to Uzume Lesson Studio shake and tremble with the crowd so threateningly close to it. And to the rest of the talent hosted inside.

“Hmmph, seems like he’s finally taking to his lessons,” Yashiro having a seat like the others, his elbow rests on the arm of the adequate enough chair. The long exhausting day of work clearly affects him, Yashiro slumped against the back of his chair with his legs spread forward, no persistent vultures for paparazzi hounding him.

Kiria waits with Yashiro. The others with them as well, Tsubasa, Touma, and Eleonora keep their focus on the large flatscreen TV that has the free live feed of the concert —courtesy of Maiko after fighting tooth and nail with the bottom feeders that are shareholders.

“I trained him well, didn’t I?” The rhetorical question hangs in the air as Kiria continues to fiddle with her makeup. As the last one —and only one to still not have gone up— she touches up the small streak of pink makeup right underneath her eye, wiping off the minimal bit of excess product. The color matches the pink collar of faux fur around her neck. In her Reincarnation outfit, the song chosen to be the first of her set by her fans in a voting poll, the outfit still looks as snug as ever on her thin, shapely body. Her corset gives her little wiggle room, the enhanced hourglass shape pushing up her barely covered up breasts. Itsuki’s song blares in the small waiting room of the studio as they talk.

I know it's tough but I'll hold on, until we meet again someday

And I promise you with all of my heart that my smile won't fade away

The water swishes in his hand as Yashiro takes a drink. He has a brow raised at Kiria. 

“Is there something you have to say Yashiro? I thought you’d have turned a new leaf. Or is that princely persona you put on still nothing but that?” The edges of Kiria’s plump lips are upturned, her lips covered in a nude lip gloss to help them pop.

“I’m glad I’m not wearing that ridiculous outfit,” Yashiro fixes his tie. Wearing a plain purple suit, the outfit is what he changed into after his set, the gaudy princely attire immediately shrugged off the instant he walked back into the sanctity of the studio. “If anything, you’re the one not giving someone enough credit. Itsuki worked rather hard to get where he is,” Despite looking up at Kiria, he can’t help but glance at the screen every so often, Itsuki taking up most of the camera.

There was a new me waiting somewhere inside

Doesn't matter how much I searched, I'd never have found it looking on my own

“I’m glad we can agree on one thing then,” She gives her hair one final brush, the lengthy ponytail cascading down her back as she heads out, ready to start her part. Itsuki reaches the halfway point of his song, the end of the third verse being sung by the time she steps out.

But now, everything's clear-- we just accept each other, nothing held back

Now that we know who we are, we can all see how much we've grown

The rest of the studio is empty, besides a few security guards; she easily walks out onto the streets of Shibuya. A barricade is already formed. The crowd that spots her behind the wall of tall, brawny security scream their heads off, each and every one of them that see her calling for her as they take photos. But Kiria keeps on track. She takes her time walking to the stage, Itsuki still singing the last parts of his song. 

And to Itsuki’s credit the crowd loves him, the momentary shock in seeing Kiria washed away as they resume their shouts and cheers as he wraps up his set. “Ladies and gentlemen, Kiria Kurono!” He yells into the mic with all the energy he can muster in his usual shy, average body. He gestures to his right, walking off to the opposite end of the stage.

And as soon as Kiria reaches the stage —Kiria herself dead silent amidst the thunderous crowd— she refuses to say a word; her head facing the ground, the thunderous screams only become more booming as they expectantly wait, the uproarious crowd soon chanting her name. And their chanting soon devolves into a cacophony of screams and applause upon hearing the very first note from the guitar, Kiria beginning to sing.

But good things are unable to last unfortunately, the entire area dimming and graying as if all color were slowly being drained from the world, the once bright, big blue sky turning a fowl shade of gray as purple specters materialize. They start at the very tail ends of the crowd, only a single one arriving before numerous more of its comrades begin to appear along with it; putrid chains coil down from them, the blotchy essence of the enemy mirages channeled along with the metal as they descend onto the crowd. Which begins to slowly die down, elated cheering soon turning into mild screams of panic before the only sound from the sea of a crowd is a chorus of tired groans.

“Those bastards!” Touma is the first to rise up from his seat, already shifted into his Carnage form with Cain as naturally as breathing comes to him. Yashiro and Eleonora follow right behind Touma, Navarre and Virion summoned as well from the sudden onset of an Idolasphere.

“Wait! We should think at least! Oh…” Tsubasa trailing behind them, she’s the only one to notice the enemies’ crimson red cloaks, the group’s enemies the rare savage mirages —as Maiko had dubbed them the first time they were forced to narrowly escape them. But she continues on after them, transforming into her Carnage form with Caeda and riding atop her pegasus. “It’s my job to make sure nobody gets hurt,”

“Kiria. You know the plan!” Itsuki still by her side, he slashes at the abundance of ironclad knights swarming the concert. Watching over her the best that he can, Itsuki charges at them all. He stands between the spacious back of the concert stage and Kiria’s back, sword drawn as he swings at everything trying to get to the two of them.

The concert part of a coverup to draw the mirages, the scattered remnants of Medeus’ army easily fall for the bait.

Unlike the others, all of them fighting the small army of mirages, Kiria remains on stage. Transformed as well, she still continues her performance, herself the one to draw the short stick by being the one performing during the attack. But Kiria pours all her magic into her words nonetheless. She uses the months of planning to her favor, enchanting the soothing melody to lull the nearly numb crowd and beyond them as well, the honeyed lyrics swirling through Shibuya as Kiria does her best from the group’s practice and research into techniques to aid those less gifted with Performa and thus more susceptible to mirages. 

The sounds of combat swish and swirl around her. But Kiria thinks nothing of it as Tharja continues to hold a protective barrier over her. The shield fizzes against the few axes and swords that strike at it with all their might, but it never once wavers, the shield withstanding all attempts to break it as Kiria remains encased in it. But the mirages soon turn their attention back away from her, their next best interest lying in the more enticing, hittable target currently fighting their leader.

And winning at that, Falchion’s piercing blade already having torn through the flesh of the enemy commander. Though Itsuki’s fatigued state —and the way he clutches his sword arm— shows that the strike was far from a free hit, the stalwart scales a difficult thing to pierce even with the divine blade. And the savage mirages loom over him, blackscale riders screeching with delight as they swirl over his head. And the ironclad knight and red barbarians for once simply wait for Itsuki to make the first move, the numerous mirages ready to strike.

A dragon beside him, the being towers over Itsuki as it roars. “This world, and everything on it, is ours...The ones who intruded were you humans!” The dragon known as Xemcel shouts, a wound already leaking with purple mist where Itsuki punctured it with Falchion. The dragon roars once more, black mist expunged from its mouth as it attacks Kiria with ferocious anger, all of its attention diverted into breaking her shield with its minions keeping Itsuki busy. The shield slowly deteriorates against the barrage. The once clear tinted shield begins to crack under the deluge of power, a faint purple hue taking hold of the barrier.

“You two get out of the way!” Yashiro plunges his sword into a red barbarian, the axe wielding enemy charging at Touma and Tsubasa’s lance using selves. The group of four take on stragglers as they attempt to regroup with Itsuki and Kiria. But the myriad of axe wielding ironclad knights and red barbarians makes the task difficult. And the airborne blackscale riders make it impossible for Tsubasa to fly ahead all on her own. 

“I guess you all will finally realize how wonderful I am,” Eleonora claps her hands, her mirage appearing right before her side. “Virion, make yourself useful,” Stepping to the forefront, the group’s lone archer stands in front of her useful melee party members. She hands her bow out, the curved wooden design light in her hands.

“Of course, my fair lady,” Virion accepts the bow and launches himself into the air, bow taut and drawn. And in an instant, the dozens of enemies swiftly become only a mere handful; spectral corpses fall to the ground, littered with a flurry of arrows before disintegrating into nothingness.

Eleonora marches on. She has the other three deal with her leftovers. “See how easy it is? Now, pick up the pace,”

Most of his mirages are now nothing more than a memory with Eleonora’s backup. So Itsuki turns his attention to the enemy commander, the dragon refusing to budge from its spot despite the pools of miasma spilling forth from its body. The only being different from the rest of the common mirages, the slightly serpentine mage dragon is barely holding on, dozens of arrow wounds piercing through the scales on its back. It roars, expunging one final breath as it stares down at the ever singing Kiria, the last bit of her song for her numbed audience coming to close.

Then at least help me destroy it all---

My solitude, and all my pain

Reincarnation, Realization

Reincarnation I want to be reborn 

And the barrier breaks, one crack surfacing for an instant before it shatters into countless immaterial pieces; Xemcel and the scattered remains of his mirages soon disappear along with it.

“Kiria!” Itsuki rushes over to her, kneeling beside her limp form.

“I’m,” She coughs, hacking out saliva and spit as if she were choking. “I’m fine,” Already out of her Carnage form, Kiria’s form has none of the debilitating weakness or injuries any of them would expect. She slowly picks herself off the floor, on all shaky fours.

In fact, as Itsuki examines her, he finds her figure a bit more… filled out. Even her voice sounds odd, her usual mildly deeper pitch —compared to Tsubasa and Eleonora at least— now an octave lower.

“Kiria?” Itsuki asks this time, looking down at the back of her head.

“Yeah? I said I’m fine, Itsuki,” Kiria looks at him this time. And while her usual angular face glares at him, her chin seems larger, broader, like her shoulders and the rest of her. Well, most of the rest. Itsuki turns away after catching himself staring at her breasts, well chest, her modest bust size now flattening out as her clavicles gain a bit more definition to them. 

Kiria slowly loses her mildly hourglass figure achieved with her light pink corset. Both from her broadening torso and her loosening corset. The bit of musculature she has on her abdomen from trekking through numerous Idolaspheres and battling more mirages than she can keep count on follows with her during her transformation. Kiria slowly pulls down the zipper of her corset, letting out a groan upon getting a bit of relief. Her smaller chest appreciates the relief, Kiria’s flatter chest still having some definition to them as they begin to morph into the very beginning onset of pecs. The straps over Kiria’s chest begin to mildly strain. So she loosens the harness, hands reaching behind her broader, more defined back. Her arms start to look more toned; Kiria has a mild hint of musculature on her thicker arms. She even loosens the most minor of belts on her body, the small straps attached to her elbow length gloves adjusted to the loosest hole. She even grows a few inches taller, her garter belts straining against the taut fabric of her black pants before she adjusts them like everything else. Her thighs slowly broaden out as they begin to lose their once shapely figure.

“What are you embarrassed about, Itsuki? Never expected your senpai to get hit?”

“N-no. It’s just that…how do I put it” Itsuki finds it hard to keep his eyes off of Kiria. Itsuki continues to stare at Kiria, trying his best to not stare but unable to avert his eyes. He only manages to find a captivating interest in the ground once a slight but noticeable bulge appears in Kiria’s pants, the cut of pants not meant for such an extra appendage. “Well, you’re a man,”

Kiria simply laughs at him. He slugs him in the arm, much more force behind them with the added bit of muscle to Kiria’s own defined arms. “Same as the last time I checked. And I’d say the same about you if you weren’t acting so childish all of a sudden. We beat those mirages and this is how you are?” Kiria slowly stands back up, a hand on Itsuki’s shoulder for support. “Stand up,”

Itsuki graciously accepts Kiria’s hand. Where once he stood a single inch taller than Kiria, Itsuki is now the shorter of the two, a couple of inches of height separating the two of them. “You’re… you’re right, Kiria,”

“See. You’re just imagining things,” Kiria pats Itsuki’s head, his blue hair ruffled under his ever so soft, slightly larger hands. “Though you might want to get out of your Carnage form, Itsuki. The crowd is still a bit drowsy but the Idolashpere should slowly start dematerializing soon,” 

“Yes. Of course,” The clumped up Performa stored inside him slowly dissipates, the aura spreading back throughout his body as he transforms back, his usual attire back on him. Afterwards, he pulls out his phone. And typing from the expertise of dealing with everyone’s spam of texts and reaction images —and from sending his very own back at them— Itsuki hastily adds the rest of the group to a new chat. “MEET ME IN FRONT OF UZUME ASAP SOMETHING HAPPENED TO KIRIA HE’S PERFECTLY FINE BUT IT’S SERIOUS!” He texts without once looking away from Kiria. “*SHES” He texts immediately after.

“Wait, something feels wrong,” Kiria feels himself. His hands roam over his body, a minor frown formed as he tsks in irritation. Kiria looks down at himself. Inspecting every inch of himself, the fabric of his clothes shift and strain with them already being a bit tight at rest. He feels up his thicker arms, grabbing the newfound heft of them. He presses a hand on his chest, fingers squeezing his trim yet defined pecs that have a bit more definition to them than Itsuki and Yashiro’s but less than Touma’s own defined musculature that comes from a mildly dedicated training routine along with the natural strength that comes from lugging around stage props. Kiria even feels his ass, the less flabby part of himself the only thing to have lost a bit of size relative to the rest of himself as they don’t strain the rest of his outfit like every other inch of himself. 

“Yes! You finally realized Kiria, you-”

“Ahhhhh…” Locks of his cool dark green-blue hair sway in the freedom of the wind. Kiria runs his fingers through his extremely long, nearly knee length hair. His mess of hair looks more unkempt as before, bits and ends of hair splayed to the side in a slightly messy but still well manicured style. “I hate wearing my hair up. Don’t know how I managed to be convinced of that,”

“Ah. Well, I’ll be right back. Just stay here in case the crowd wakes up early. So just be ready to perform,” Itsuki holds his hands up at Kiria before rushing off and leaving him alone.

He finds Touma, Tsubasa, and Eleonora right where he asked them to be.

Touma is the first to speak. “You didn’t have to fix the typo, man. What happened to Kiria?” Eleonora and Tsubasa stay quiet, waiting for Itsuki to speak.

“It wasn’t a typo,” Itsuki explains the entire situation to the three of them, starting off by mentioning the strange mirage attack before divulging into Kiria’s transformation into a guy —leaving out the more saucy details left grabbed in his mind, Itsuki’s brain replaying the scene with a morbid curiosity he doesn’t quite wish to explore in such a crowded area— and finally ending the short retelling with Kiria’s obliviousness to his current state.

“Wait! So Kiria…” Tsubasa holds her hands to her chest. Tears well up in her eyes, the fat, salty drops threatening to spill at any second. “She’s a guy nowwwww,” She wails, her chance with her now feeling lost.

“Kiria may be fine. But now’s not the time, Tsubasa,” Eleonora chastises. Though she herself seems a bit downcast, the two women having their own crush on Kiria,

“Yes. She seems perfectly fine but while we still have the ability with the Idolashpere temporarily active, I know we can reverse this with your help,” Itsuki smiles ahead at the group.

Eleonora pushes back, jabbing Itsuki in the chest with her manicured finger, not a single scratch on it somehow. “Me? What, you think I know all these healing spells just because I’m a girl? How s-”

“E-Eleonora, Itsuki was looking at me…” Tsubasa meekly says, standing right beside where Eleonora once did. 

“Oh…”

A hand on Tsubasa’s back, Touma stands right beside her. “C’mon Tsubasa. You got this! You always patch us back to full health. Just think of this as another little status for you to cure. No reason for you to worry!” He pushes her forward with a couple of hearty pats on her back. 

“We believe in you Tsubasa. We know you can do it,” Itsuki similarly cheers her on.

“U-understood!” Tsubasa rushes over to the concert stage to reclaim her possible chance —no matter how slim and unlikely she is to act on her own feelings— with Kiria. 

Kiria is still right where Itsuki left him after all this time. 

And Yashiro is beside the man already. Yashiro glares at Kiria, still standing a couple of inches above him instead of the nearly half a foot difference from before the transformation of his newfound male senpai. “Hmmph. You’ve gotten taller, I see,” Yashiro plainly comments, as if commenting on the weather. The faint tinge of red on his exposed face betrays his glare. Yashiro is back to his normal appearance, Yashiro all too aware of the slowly fading essence of the Idolasphere.

“Forgive me, Kiria. But I need to cast some healing magic. Just to make sure everyone is okay,” Back in her Carnage form, Tsubasa stands almost an entire head shorter than Kiria now. She leans a bit down, hands over Kiria’s body. “Well, if she doesn’t remember anything and she’ll be back to normal, then maybe…” Tsubasa places her hands on Kiria’s chest, her fingernails giving the pecs a light squeeze. And Tsubasa feels nothing stir in her own heart. She puts all concentration into turning Kiria back into a woman.

Eleonora speaks up for Kiria, the entire groups’ senpai awkwardly chuckling. “You can’t just harass Kiria, Tsubasa! When we get back, I’m learning healing spells if you’re not going to honor our truce,” She threatens.

“Ladies, don’t fight over me,” Kiria laughs, smiling as Tsubasa and Eleonora fawn over him. “I thought I told you, I’m only into men,”

The two women go wide-eyed; both of their brains ding with enlightenment, Kiria never once showing an ounce of interest in men before his transformation. 

“Tsubasa hurry up with those spells!”

“I’m trying!” Tsuabsa cries. “Nothing’s working, not even amrita,” And Tsubasa’s outfit slowly dissipates, her wedding dress for her performance appearing back on her.

Yashiro interrupts the two of them, clearing his throat. “Why don’t you two wait at Uzume while Kiria finishes the rest of his set. The crowd should be waking up soon,” Yashiro gestures with his hand, done with them and shooing them off like a pair of inconsolable children throwing a tantrum.

“Sorry,” Kiria nervously chuckles. He waves them off as Touma and Itsuki join the two men. “I’ll make sure to put on a good show at the very least,”

Touma and Itsuki say nothing at the failed fix. “Itsuki and I are going to keep watch just in case some more mirages attack,” Touma gives Kiria a cheeky grin as he takes Itsuki with him in a headlock.

“Y-yes. Good luck, Kiria,” Itsuki nervously waves. His face is red, his complexion a positively bright shade of pink as he goes to sit in the small but fenced seating area right next to the stage.

“Good luck. Not that you need it,” Yashiro shrugs as he joins the other men.

“Private viewers, huh? I guess I really do need to do my best then. But, alright,” Emboldened from his transformation, Kiria wastes no time in flirting, Kiria no longer the brightest rose in the garden, the prickly adornment too beautiful to be plucked like all the rest.

“Alright Shibuya! Let me hear you make some noise!” He wastes no time in getting the crowd ready, Kiria jumping on stage in beat to get the crowd pumping. To the magic’s credit, not a single soul in the crowd utters a word about Kiria’s new self. The adoring crowd shows their enthusiasm over Kiria with their posters and merch. Even those are modified by the magic, pictures and drawings of Kiria miraculously changed to reflect his current form. They all continue to adore him all the same as he starts singing, Kiria moving onto the next song in his set, The Labyrinth, as if the mirage attack never happened.

The instant Kiria begins to sing, his body fills with the usual infliction of magic, a bit of purple haze imperceptible to himself and to the entire crowd. Kiria sings as if nothing is happening; he continues to slowly walk across the stage, looking out to the uproarious crowd as the magic begins to swell within him anew. 

The three men watching from the side keep their newfound shock between the three of them as the mirage’s spell continues to work its magic, Kiria still transforming once more. They all watch with bated breath as Kiria begins to expand, his new masculine figure beginning to look like a stick as he grows.

The growth is as slow as the beginning of Kiria’s transformation, but the extra bit of poundage he starts to gain becomes readily apparent on his lithe, mildly built frame. His corset is the first to struggle against the budding bit of fat on him, like bread rising in the oven. Kiria’s corset already having a difficult time adjusting to his slightly broader, more squarish figure as a man, the extra blubber from his swelling midsection does it no favors. The zipper slowly falls down bit by bit with every few pounds or so, his flat stomach turning into the very onset of a beginner's belly. Until the zipper gets caught from his tummy, the very little give of the corset visibly bulging from the visible swell of his stomach, the bottoms flabs of it forced at an awkward angle with his newfound love handles, the plump little rolls of fat more fitting on a perhaps a little too indulgent individual rather than Kiria’s once slim self. His budding breasts which he once lost begin to appear once more through the added helping of lard being slathered onto his figure. Kiria’s chest doesn’t hold their former voluptuousness. They instead have much more sag to them, the two puffy moobs much smaller than his waist. Kira’s ass and thighs swell up much the same, thighs becoming slowly engorged as they widen, his pants beginning to similarly strain like the rest of his clothes. His pants curve outward as his rear does, Kiria regaining his shapely ass with a bit of extra heft to it, his ass less defined with his extra pudge.

And yet no one says a single word as Kiria grows bigger, his clothes struggling to hold onto their dear life. Kiria even slowly begins to grow taller, a couple extra inches of height added to him as he surpasses six feet tall, Kiria now the tallest of the three as his pants begin to rise up his ankles. 

It takes Itsuki clearing his throat to regain his own attention, Kiria’s corset busting clean off after a rather sudden burst of flab on his gut. “Shouldn’t we do something? I mean Kiria probably…” Itsuki purses his lips.

“Just look at the brute. Do you really think he’s not enjoying himself?” The flushed Yashiro has his legs crossed, one svelte thigh resting over his groin. His fingers are clenched around the silky fabric of his black trousers.

Kira flaunts his extra bit of bulk, one hand testing the heft of his belly as he lifts it and then gives it a bit of a taunting smack; he throws the crowd a cheeky smile all the while. The underbit of his gut is exposed. A tiny portion of the smooth, creamy, and flabby skin peeking out with the taut undergarment for the corset struggling to cater to Kiria’s larger, growing size. Though Kiria’s added girth doesn’t stay so soft as patches of fuzzy hair begin to appear on him. Especially underneath his navel, a small but decent patch of pitch black hair for a happy trail suddenly on him as well. His voice grows gruffer as he keeps on singing, the pitch going deeper and deeper. 

“It’s just the spell!” Touma half-shouts half-whispers. He leans forward in his seat unlike the other two, but his face is just as red as the others, Touma covering most of his face with his hand. Besides his entranced eyes. “R-right? C’mon Itsuki. you were there when it happened, so tell us already!”

Kiria easily tears through his pants. They last very little longer against the surging tide of mass. Kiria’ thighs now easily surpass their former size, the two meaty legs looking more akin to those of a practicing sumo than a rising popstar. All Kiria has left to show for his pants are tatters of black fabric that litter the stage as well as his legs. 

“I don’t know. I mean, we can’t be affected since we remember what happened before this, right? I’m sure at least someone in the crowd would have to have screamed by now if they knew this was happening now,” He turns his head back to the screaming, adoring crowd and sees the same exact merchandise as before, all of it the same besides the morphing depictions of Kiria.

Yashiro hums in agreement, sagely nodding his head as if he has anything to add to Itsuki’s statement. “Kitria’s gaining some muscle too,” No bit of Kiria’s body goes unexplored, no single portion unlovingly admired. Both from Yashiro and the ever-excited crowd. 

Both Itsuki and Touma look to where Yashiro points, Kiria’s thighs.

His thighs already large, the two meaty limbs soon become absolutely positive in crushing another man in between. Both from the sheer heft of them but also from the bit of muscle that begins to appear and form on them, the loose, saggy fat slowly but surely firming up as well as they still keep on slowly growing. Not only that, but Kiria’s flabby, oh so smackable gut —which looks a bit too empty to all three party members— also gains some definition to it. Out with the old and in with the new, the fat accumulating on Kiria’s body soon becomes mingled with muscle. His gut continues to swell outward, his large belly bulging outward as if he drank nothing but beer. 

“Whatever,” Touma’s ass never leaves his seat. He reclines back into the plush chair, arms crossed over his chest. “It’s better that he gain some muscle. That way, he’s not a useless blob,” He taps his foot to whatever beat that manages to irrelevantly stay in his brain with the growing man in front of him demanding all of his attention. 

And Kiria’s figure demands all of Yashiro’s attention as well. Back as hunched as ever, he looks about ready to give himself a permanent hunch. “Tch. As if,” Though Touma’s words hang heavy in his fried mind.

“That wouldn’t have been too bad, would it?” The ringing laughter comes out like none before it. Itsuki painfully hot in the face, he tugs at his collar with a single finger.

Though the men have little reason to complain about Kiria’s unexpected turn of events. Not with his arms looking as capable as snapping them in half as they once did slinging spells at mirages, the former looking even more simple of a task. The heaping layer of fat on Kiria’s arms refuses to betray the unbridled strength beneath them. His arms soon surpass the largest biceps any of the three have seen, Kiria’s thick, virile arms wider than his former thighs; they easily surpass the waists of the three men watching. Or even the entire crowd as Kiria’s longtime fans begin to evolve with the times —and evolve with his girth— a choice few people in the crowd matching Kiria’s extra heft with a bit of flab and some muscle here and there. Though none of them even come close to Kiria’s large, beefy size. Much less his growing stature as Kiria soon surpasses being an incredulous seven feet tall as Kiria continues to grow like a beanstalk. The stage slowly begins to creak as Kiria takes ponderous steps on it, every part of the stage giving its own feedback on his size.

“Do you have any idea when it’s going to end at the very least?” Yashiro finally asks a relevant question, done simply gawking and admiring for a short while before turning his attention back to Kiria. He presses a hand to his lips. The others’ responses go in one ear and swiftly out the other, his attention firmly placed on Kiria’s growing firmness.

“Yeah, Itsuki. Though you clearly don’t seem to mind when it ends,” Touma bumps him in the arm, one arm slugged around his shoulders.

“BWOOORRRP,”  Kiria belches directly into the mic, the ear shattering belch loud enough to rival the wyverns they’ve dealt with and loud enough to finally remove the attention off the increasingly creaking stage. Having paused the song with his belch, he catches the crowd’s attention, a booming and resounding applause followed, it definitely catches Itsuki and Touma’s attention, the entire crowd of Shibuya captivated by Kiria’s size like a blue ribbon winning prized hog. Staring at Kiria’s face, the massive wall of a man —that’s now a towering dangerously eight foot, nearly nine foot adonis— has some facial hair to show for it, a small bit of messy scruff for a beard as if he hadn’t shaved for a week or two. His hair looks more fitting on a rockstar than his old self, the loose, flowing locks an untamed mess of hair that manages to still cascade all the way down to his ass even as he grows taller, the concert stage looking more and more cramped as Kiria fills out the massive platform.And underneath his face are his pecs, the two massively sized brawny tits jutting forward and obstructing his vision. They also obstruct everyone else's vision as they command awe and attention. Kiria’s broad chest resembles more a bulging table than anything on a properly sized person; his squeezable, grabbable chest is slathered with a thick patch of hair centered in between the two fat tits unlike the bit of dusting on the rest of his immense figure. The large patch of black hair covers most of his large pecs, the outer tufts of hair coming close to his nipples. Kiria’s tits begin to press up against his tree trunk sized arms, both parts of his grandeur that look ready to break any piece of furniture starting to struggle with mobility with so much of himself to go around. So much of Kiria to get an eyeful of, Itsuki and Touma don’t even think to look down on Kiria’s body. Yashiro gets enough of a look of Kiria’s bulging manhood for all three of them. It takes Kiria finally breaking the twelve foot tall threshold, Kiria now twice as tall as them, for Touma and Itsuki to finally notice; the two of them immediately do their best to not gawk, nervous glances to the side and staring at the floor only working for so long before they can refuse no longer.

Touma loses his embarrassment first. His high pitched and long length whistle is lost amongst Kiria’s groan muddled singing. “Damn. I guess it was a good thing you didn’t stop the spell, huh Itsuki?”

“I…” Itsuki hurriedly covers his crotch with his jacket. “I mean… yeah but still…” Itsuki’s eyes refuse to leave Kiria’s growing dick.

For all the magic’s little worth in keeping Kiria’s clothes adequately equipped for such a massive brick wall of a man, it does manage to keep the small strip of fabric as something akin to clothing, his underwear the sole surviving piece on him. He keeps up with performance even as he reaches the tailend of his set and by extension the concert. Through the effects of the spell, Kiria now wears a dark black jockstrap as deemed adequate with so much fabric needed to create that and that alone for Kiria. The strips of fabric deserve a promotion from the bulk they hold back, Kiria’s swelling manhood pushed forward by the taut, ever so revealing fabric. Kiria’s growing gut begins to press into his dick, the carpet for a happy trail resting and blending into the jockstrap. His thighs similarly struggle against his large dick, the size of it when coupled with Kiria’s still growing stature easily beginning to surpass every single crowd member’s entire body. Though that doesn’t stop Kiria from singing. He grabs and adjusts his junk, Kiria needing to pull up the dangerously low jockstrap that struggles to withstand the weight of his package.

Easily pushing four times as tall as the next tallest person in Shibuya, the stage finally gives away underneath the massive mountain of a man. Kiria neither screams nor panics. He only rests a hand on his massive car crushing musclegut as he lets out a pleased huff. “Thanks for coming -buuhhoourrp- to Shhibuya everyone!”

“Encore! Encore! Encore!” The entire crowd screams, everyone jumping as they demand more. Those in front try their best to reach and pick up as many scattered pieces of the stage as they can.

Kiria rubs the back of his head —albeit struggling to reach back there with his biceps squishing against his face as well as the lack of flexibility he has all around. His hairy armpit is visible to the entire crowd, a mess of camera flashes taken from every angle for everyone to post online and gawk over like they do with every concert. “Sorry everyone but our staff really needs time to clean up this mess,” He pats his belly, letting out another resounding belch. “And I really gotta fill up this tank,”

And eventually, the crowd slowly begins to dissipate, the countless staff members they have for such an event safely getting everyone out in an orderly line.

Kiria’s three watching party members go back on the ruined stage, rubble kicked around as they approach him.

Having now stopped growing, Kiria crouches down to face the three men standing in the tatters of his destruction. His outfit is completely gone with all of it in tatters. All that remains of it is a skimpy jockstrap that only pushes his enormous third leg forward. “What’s the matter, Yashiro? You’ve always been jealous of my size, but I mean, so is everyone else,” Kiria comments as Yashiro glares at him. The glare is no less softened as Kiria practically shoves his dick right in front of his face, Yashiro craning his neck the best he can to look up at Kiriia’s face and not the hill for a dick or the overhanging cliff for tits.

“Nothing,” He continues to glare up at Kiria despite his crimson red face.

“You said you were hungry, right? So c’mon already. I thought you wanted to fill up that tank of yours,” Touma wastes no time with pleasantries. Standing right next to Kiria, Touma is nothing more than a molehill to a mountain. He doesn’t even come up to the lowest bits of Kiria’s gut—even with Kiria crouching down the best that can— and with Kiria’s dick right in front of him, the massive manhood is longer than Touma is tall. And more than three times as wide as Touma rests a hand on it.

“Damn right I am. Come on, Itsuki. There should be some food waiting for me at Uzume,” Kiria stands at his full height. If not aware of Kiria’s predicament, the three would believe the world to be ending, all three men eclipsed in his enormous shadow as Kiria blots out the sun from where he stands, and the buildup of tremors as Kiria moves around very nearly knock them flat on their asses. His face is obscured from the three of them, his height making it a difficult task to bask in all of his glory; his jutting chest makes it flat out impossible, Kiria also unable to look down at them with his pecs in the way. Though his wobbling musclegut would do the same. He takes slow lumbering steps through the designated walkway just for him.

“Wait! You can’t possibly…” Rushing back around, Itsuki’s words are already useless with Kiria unable to hear such a tiny man. And his protests die down once he sees Uzume’s transformed state, the skyscraper-like building taking up the entire block now. All for Kiria most likely, the enormous man requiring the space.

Touma already follows behind Kiria. He has to run just to somewhat keep up with him, still lagging behind as he struggles to keep his balance from the tremors of Kiria’s labored walking.

“Just hurry it up, Itsuki. Clearly everything Kiria needs to be refit for his new identity will mold to it. So we might as well get used to it,” Yashiro beckons him forward, following behind the two men. He barely hides his near speed walk pace while he attempts to hastily catch up to them.

The two of them enter the much, much, much smaller entrance of the two, the regular door akin to a mousehole next to the broad, expansive entrance built just for Kiria. Which he even struggles to fit into, all three getting a view of his exposed ass wedged against the edges of the doorway as he tries to fit himself past the door despite the attempts from his gut and dick pressed up against the other end of the doorway try to stop him before he goes in at an angle. Which is difficult for him with his limited flexibility. But he lets out a contented groan once he’s inside. Kiria is at least cognizant of his size. He puts little pressure on the wall, a swarm of memories swirling in his brain of him breaking enough things. But Itsuki and Yashiro find themselves back inside Uzume just fine; only Touma and Kiria are waiting for them along with enough food to seemingly feed an entire army. Or enough just for one greedy, massive Kiria.

Only one room in the newly sized Uzume is able to withstand Kiria’s new bigger body. All the other rooms are far too small for him to even squeeze a fist inside. He waits inside the former waiting room now turned into a dual feature vocal training room and waiting room. The room is blisteringly cold as well. Kiria’s body heat radiates all around him, the confined area a sweltering sauna if not for the frigid temperature the air conditioning system set in place just for Kiria. And to Kiria, the room feels perfectly fine to him despite the cramped conditions. Kiria barely manages to squeeze inside the snug building despite being made with his own enormity in mind. The upper wisps of his hair brush against the ceiling, even with Kiria slightly bent over to make some extra room. He has more than plenty of room in the other dimensions until he sits down, the walls shaking and trembling regardless of how gentle he tries to be with his movement. He uses one end of the wall as his personal backrest. His broad, powerful back takes up most of the width of it. Kiria’s jutting shoulder blades make the most contact with it, his slightly doughy yet broad shoulders also pressed up against it. The outermost curves of his biceps —the widest circumference of them akin to an entire car— chafe against the walls of the room. They also press up against his bulging pecs, the two oversized tits plumped up with copious amounts of lard and muscle just like the rest of his body. The two jutting breasts obscure most of Kiria’s face with him leaning back. And his traps make it difficult for him to shift his head to look around him. Kiria also takes up most of the entire length of the room despite not even fully laying down, his feet pressing up against the other end of the room; the robust, sturdy walls already have a few cracks in them from other days. His bulging thighs rest comfortably against the floor. At least his right thigh which Kiria has almost fully extended, the straightened out leg pressed up against his crotch. He has his left knee bent up to help him a bit with his balance; his knee comes far above the three smaller men’s heads. His left thigh presses up against his gut, the large ball of fat pushed a bit back against the thigh big enough to seat all three men on it. His gut also looks more than capable of seating all three of them and many more, the jutting curve of it deep enough from the sheer size and heft of it despite how his powerful chest rests and presses atop it. Kiria’s gut still has some sag to it despite his gained musculature; it rests on his bulging dick still struggling to stay inside his jockstrap, the hill of his dick taking most of the weight of his gut. Kiria’s bulge rests on the ground, the jockstrap finally having some relief, the fabric visibly worn out from how stretched the tent-like clothing is.

“Time for the best part, fan food always tastes great,” Kiria makes no motion to move himself, rather comfortable in his spot. And neither do the three men, all suddenly embarrassed as they remain glued to their spots. “Well? What are you all waiting for? You guys always love feeding me,” Kiria burps. He rests a hand on his firm gut, rubbing the grumbling gut that’s shattered a few windows in his brand new memories before Fortuna Entertainment became properly equipped with handling his immense size.

“Hmmph. If you insist on being a glutton then,” Yashiro moves first. Very little room for him to freely stand in, he shuffles around the bulky, sinewy thighs to reach the overburdened table filled with food. Yashiro is practically stuck between Kiria’s thighs and the wall, the cramped fit especially warm with him practically pushed up against Kiria. But he finds himself reaching for as much as he can possibly hold with just two hands.

He also finds Touma right behind him,  over eager in loading the provided serving trays with as much meat he can grab. Almost all of the food he grabs is some meat dish or another. “Hurry it up. I thought you were eager to feed him,” Touma hands Yashiro another serving tray, laughing as the older man seems ready to swat him with it.

“I’ll-” The ground trembles underneath them, another earthquake suddenly striking as Kiria’s gut grumbles. Yashiro comes crashing onto Kiria’s immense thigh, his head not even surpassing the upper crest of the meaty, powerful limb. Not a single piece of food ends up wasted on the ground thankfully. 

The two men have their trays ready. The four trays alone would be an overwhelming amount of food for the two of them and Itsuki, but for Kiria alone, the food looks underwhelmingly insufficient.

The ground shakes once more with a small but deep gurgle. “That should be enough for an appetizer for now,” Kiria holds out his hand for the two men, the back of his hand resting on the floor with his palm open. “It’s more fun feeling you all crawl on me, but I need food. Now,” Kiria belches, the walls themselves shaking now as he rests his other hand on his gut. He also gives it a couple squeezes. That and his tits, his biceps struggling much more with the latter.

And Yashiro and Touma accept Kiria’s hand. Touma stands straight up, smirking up at Kiria the best he can with so much bulk in the way. Yashiro sits down, his legs dangling off the edge of Kiria’s palm.

“Hurry it up, Itsuki! I’m starving over here,” The walls themselves shake and tremble this time from his mere voice alone, his voice slightly raised. His rumbling gut quaking the floor doesn’t help matters, his gut almost resting on the floor if not for his massive endowment in the way.

Itsuki rests a hand on the wall, everything moving around him. Looking up at Kiria with his face just as flushed as the very first few moments of seeing him grow, he only sighs. But he obediently goes over to the table filled with a buffet of food —after adjusting his tight pants and a couple of deep, flustered breaths. And he joins the other two men on Kiria’s hands, Itsuki kneeling down on it in hopes of not falling over and spilling everything.

Three pairs of eager feet step down on Kiria’s body, Touma and Itsuki resting on his broad, massive traps that resemble a sidewalk to the two of them while Yashiro makes himself comfortable sitting atop the massive overhang of Kiria’s bulging chest. “See how easy that was. Feels good to have such handy little helpers,” Kiria expectantly opens his mouth. And he accepts every bit of food that they toss into his eager maw. 

Yashiro treats him like a garbage disposal, chucking entire meals into his mouth without thinking an ounce over it. “You better hurry it up, there’s still way too much food,” He even throws a bit of food once Kiria closes his mouth, Kiria ending up with a bit of a mess smattered over his lips. And he ends up quickly reprimanded each time he does it, Kiria using a single finger to press into him, holding him squarely in place despite his flustered protests.

“Yeah, man! If you eat it fast enough, then it’ll still be early enough for us to get you some more. You’re gonna need it, right?” Touma standing much closer to Kiria’s face, he still has to toss the equivalent of buckets of food to his gaping mouth, his experience in throwing spears and javelins leaving him well equipped for the job. Kiria only hums in agreement, urging Touma to hurry it up as Touma greedily lists all of Kiria’s favorites, the same as before.

Itsuki is far more reserved than the other two. Though still being willingly complicit in the situation has him looking rather strange to begin with. “Just make sure you take your time, Kiria. You might get a stomach ache,” He coos and worries over, slowly feeding Kiria his favorite foods, his assumption of his personal favorites not having changed a bit a correct one. Kiria only plucks him up and places him closer, clear in his hunger despite how he carefully pets Itsuki for his fretting.

Kiria simply keeps on accepting the food, none of them finding the situation of feeding a twenty plus foot tall behemoth of a man strange at all. “I can’t wait for the next concert,”

[queenlucythevaliant]

Such a Blaze You Seldom See

Written for the Inklings Challenge 2022 ( @inklings-challenge ). Inspired by Robert Service’s “The Cremation of Sam McGee.” 

January 6, 1897 

Dear Lena,

Men say that strange things can happen in the Klondike. I never quite believed them till now. Now, I tremble to recall what happened to Sam and me a month ago when we crossed from Fort Yukon to Dawson in late December, a rough trip to be sure. I halfway suspect that what I saw was the strangest thing ever to happen in that frozen expanse. Whatever the case, it was a miracle.

You know better than anyone that Sam was always keen to leave Idaho. He would have liked to go anywhere else, but from boyhood his favorite notion was that he’d go back east for a fancy college education and become an engineer or an architect. Even more than that, though—more than anything, he wanted to marry you and start a family. He would have done right by you, Lena, if only he could have.

But God was unkind. Sam never went east, never got to college, and he broke your engagement, though it broke his own heart to do it.

Da was a wandering soul, you know, and he went out the door when I was ten after years of struggling to stay put. I started getting nervous fits after Da left, though I mostly grew out of it within a couple years. They hurt like blazes and I had to treat with laudanum, but I never fell dependent on it the way so many people do. I had Sam, who was carefuler and more precise than any doctor. He watched over my laudanum use and cared for me when I was hurting.

I started healing, and that was when you and Sam finally got engaged. But then Ma fell sick with consumption. 

Sam told me what you said when he broke the engagement: “I’ll wait, but not forever.” Those words were like some morsel of food to a starving man. He put your engagement ring on a chain after you returned it and carried it around his wrist as a bracelet: “So I can wear my hopes on my sleeve,” he would say.

Ma died last summer. I’m not sure if you know that. You were long gone by then.

Sam called it a miracle when the letter came. Dear sons, it said, If you are reading this letter, you are still in Pellton where I left you. Now I have the chance to make amends for my absence. By some stroke of luck, I was in Seattle when the news of Klondike gold came down. I have staked a claim worth six dollars a pan and begun construction of a cabin on site. Come to Dawson City and join me. Five hundred dollars advance enclosed for the trip. At the bottom of the page was my Da’s unfamiliar signature. 

Of course, getting to Dawson would be difficult, but Sam and me conferred and decided to go for it. Soon as possible, we said, else Da or the gold or both might have run out by the time we got there.

*

Six days before Christmas, we were making our way over the God-forsaken trail from Fort Yukon to Dawson. It was freezing—"Proper cold,” Sam said, which I later found out meant thirty below. Our eyelashes froze and stuck together. The hair in our noses froze and it stung when we inhaled. Even through our parkas, the wind stabbed past our skin down to the brittle bone.

“Hell on earth,” I complained. It wasn’t an exaggeration either. “Didn’t some fellow once write that Hell was someplace frozen?”

“That was Dante, I think,” Sam hollered back, “’S not in the Bible.” I couldn’t see his face through the hood and the cap he had on over it, but I could picture the way his lip quirked up at the edge when he said it.

“Want to stay in back another turn? I can keep going,” he offered. It was near my turn to walk out in front of the sled and break the path for the dogs while Sam took his turn walking behind.

With sled dogs, someone has to go out front of the team on snowshoes and clear the way, else the dogs would waste all their energy fighting through snow that might come up past their noses. It’s hard work, being out front, but it would be harder still heading to Dawson without a good dog team.

Sam’s brows would be furrowed together in worry when he made me that offer. I could just see it, and it bothered me. Even all these years on, Sam was always fussing after my health.

“Naw, I’ll manage,” I said. I didn’t want Sam wearing himself out on my account.

Of course, a few miles later, he insisted and back behind the sled I went. I never could talk Sam out of anything once his mind was made up.

*

That night, we were packed beneath the snow in the shadow of the sled, which served as a windbreak. It was near fifty below, but the stars were dancing overhead in a show the likes of which you just don’t see in Pellton and I felt, if not comfortable, then at least contented. Sam turned over then, from being on his back looking up at the sky to sideways and looking at me.

“Cade,” said he, “we’ll pass near the Belle Isle Altar on Christmas day. I’d like to make an offering.”

“Mmmm. Whatever you say, Sam.” I was damn exhausted, as you can imagine.

I’m sure you’ve heard about the Altar as a legend or a fairytale, but the folks up north will swear that it’s real. I’d heard talk of the Altar a thousand times over the last few months. Once we got up past St. Michael, everyone had something to say on the subject. A tall, burly man from Oklahoma called it a miracle and a mystery. The captain of the boat that had carried us to Fort Yukon said it was the closest thing to magic that any man had ever seen. Yet plenty of people also said it wasn’t worth adding the extra hours to the long, grueling trek to Dawson.

“I’d like to offer up Lena’s ring,” said Sam.

That got me awake. “What?”

“Her engagement ring, Cade.”

No no no, I thought, You can’t!

What I said was, “It’s your token, Sam. But don’t you want to keep it so you can go back and give it to her again once you’re rich?”

Sam was quiet for a long time. “Lena’s gone, Cade. She waited, and then she left, and I expect she’s found someone else by now. And that’s alright.” Were it not for our wraps, he would have reached out and ruffled my hair.

“Now wait a minute, Sam—”

“And I’m never gonna pass by as holy a place as Belle Isle Altar again in my life, most like. I want to offer God the most precious thing I have as a sacrifice, and what better time than on the holiest night of the year?”

“You shouldn’t be so rash—”

“I ain’t being rash! Been thinking about this since we decided to come this way. If the good Lord does see fit to give me the second chance I always prayed for, then I’ll tell Lena what I did with her ring and I’ll buy her a big diamond instead of a little silver band. But if, as is my suspicion, I never have that chance—well then, that’s alright too. I’m praying for other things now, Cade.”

I bit my lip hard to keep the tears in. “You ever regret all the things you gave up to care for Ma and me?”

Sam didn’t hesitate. “Never. Not once.”

He turned a little in his snow-bed and I could just see the glint off his eyes in the starlit darkness. He was looking at me with more love than I knew how to take in.

“I’ll always wish I could have married Lena and gone east and all—but I never could have left you and Ma while either of you was ailing. Wouldn’t have been fair to Lena either, if I could only give her half my worry.”

And that was that, I guess. We dozed off, slept hard, and woke in the morning with miles and miles of frozen expanse ahead of us.

*

About midday, we were picking our way across the flats when a squall hit us flat outa nowhere. One moment, the horizon was clear, then an instant later an enormous cloud of silver was racing towards us and Sam was yelling “Hurry! The dogs! The sled!”

Well, we got the dogs dug in as fast as we could and dove beneath the sled before the worst was upon us. We bundled up tight in the snow and prepared to wait it out, both trying to work out in our heads how far it might set us back. The light had dwindled to little more than five hours each day and it was costly to lose any of it.

Then, slowly and then all at once, my vision lit up hot. I felt a pain in the base of my head, right in the place where my skull met my spine.

“Sam,” I said. “Sam.”

There must have been something about my voice, because Sam knew at once. “You’re having a fit,” he stated in a pitch-black tone.

Strange, that. I hadn’t had a fit in nearly four years. I’d been healthy, but somehow Sam just knew.

I nodded. When I remembered he couldn’t see me, I cleared my throat and murmured, “I am.”

I could sense Sam’s indecision. His muscles were taught and there was a grim look on what little I could see of his face. The moments lengthened and ticked by until finally, Sam let out a sigh. “Your laudanum’s in the sled, way down towards the bottom. Can you bear it?”

“Yessir,” I said, trying my best to be brave.

I don’t know how much time passed. Pain is timeless, even worse when you’re in the middle of a white-out storm. I only know that eventually, the pain got too much to take. I started screaming.

Sam was up in a flash. He climbed into the sled and got me the laudanum. Then he was beside me again pouring a measure in my mouth, and a short time later the pain began to leave me. (Or was it hours? Never can tell.)

I slept. Sam didn’t. The storm ended eventually, but we stayed put till morning.

*

When we rose the next day, I could tell Sam wasn’t right. Those few minutes in the storm the day before had stolen away his body’s heat and he was still chilled, even after the long rest in his hood beneath the snow. “Don’t you worry,” Sam told me, but his voice was dry and cracked like last year’s autumn leaves. He was moving real slow.

He was staggering and stumbling about before noon, muscles stiff and uncooperative. I decided to halt, but Sam wasn’t having it. “Am I in charge, or is my baby brother? We’ve got thirty miles to make today. We go on.”

“You may be older, but you’re not in charge of me. Right now, I know what’s best and I say halt.”

We halted.

I built a fire, but that blue tinge that he had all over wasn’t going away. I pulled out the extra blankets, but Sam pushed them aside. “Too darn hot,” he said, teeth chattering.

After a while, he fell into delirium. Last thing I remember my brother saying while he still knew me is, “Steady, Cade. Death ain’t such a big thing.” After that, he just clung to the sled and raved. Ma and Da, his plans for college back east, bits and pieces from Scripture, and you. “Lena, Lena,” again and again. It was all jumbled and after a while it just ran together in a long stream of nonsense.

“’S it snowing?” Sam asked.

“Not right now,” I answered.

He never moved again.

It took me a bit to realize that my brother was dead. When I touched his skin, it was blue tinged and cold as ice.

It was only then that I realized I didn’t have any way of burying my brother. The ground was frozen solid, even by the river where the snow pack wasn’t as bad. There was no way I could possibly dig a hole to fit him. I knew what he’d tell me if he could: “Leave the body and go on; it’ll only weigh you down.”

But Sam was gone, and I wasn’t going to leave my brother’s body to freeze in the snow and be food for some animal. He was a good Christian, read his Bible at night and went to church most every week. He deserved a Christian burial.

The sled had a little room free, but not near enough to fit Sam’s whole body. I thought about just trying to tie him down on top of everything, but I knew that adding him to the heap would upset the stability of the sled and tire out the dogs. Even a good team can only haul so much. For a desperate moment, I thought maybe I could somehow carry him on my back—but when I tried to lift him, I found my brother’s body a great, unwieldy block of ice. It took nearly my whole strength to pick him up at the torso and carry him all of six yards. I set him back down with a grunt and for a long moment I considered dosing myself with a little more laudanum. I wanted to be numb.

(I didn’t want to think on the laudanum too hard, else I’d think about Sam going out in that storm to get it. If I let myself think on it, the guilt would destroy me and I couldn’t let it. I’d as good as killed my brother. I owed it to him to survive.)

But wait. One of the crates on the sled was Sam’s clothes. There was no need now to bring them to Dawson anymore. I would never wear them; Sam’s a good head taller than me, and I’m not likely to do much more growing.

I didn’t want to part with Sam’s clothes. Even if I couldn’t wear them, they’d still carry his scent. But I reasoned that it was more important to give my brother a proper burial than to hold onto sentimental objects. I tossed the clothes out into the snow and chopped up the crate for firewood.

The same logic applied to most of Sam’s half of the food and the few precious books he’d decided to bring. By the time I was though, I had space on the sled big enough to stow his body.

Then, just as I was shoving him onto the sled, I caught sight of your ring on its silver chain and I remembered about Sam’s offering.

I was three days out from Belle Isle Altar. I could still sacrifice the ring for him. Even though he was dead, I had to believe that God would still honor his offering.

So, as I finished chopping the crates and packing up and I prepared to move out, my heart swelled with a new strength of determination. It was up to me now to offer Sam’s most precious treasure to the Lord on Christmas day, just like the Wise Men did. I swore I would not fail.

There wasn’t a breath in that land of death as I started away that morning. The winds let up and I made good time. Maybe even enough that I wouldn’t be hard pressed to reach my destination by Christmas. I was hopeful, at least. I had promises to keep.

I tried not to think of what the Eskimo at Fort Yukon had said: “It is good that you have each other. Only a fool ventures into this country on his own with the winter at his heels.”

I halted for the night at the edge of one of the Yukon River’s little braided tributaries. It took me two tries to get the fire started all on my own, but I managed it in the end.

When I crept beneath the snow to sleep, I could almost feel Sam sitting there above me on the sled. I must have laid there for ten or fifteen minutes, keener and keener discomfort growing in my gut, until finally I said aloud, “It’s a mighty grief not to have you down below with me, Sam.”

In my mind, I saw his eyes crease and heard him reply, “You can come join me if you like, but it'll be a tight squeeze. You’ll have to toss your own things out in order to fit!”

I chuckled softly in the silence, momentarily comforted. I talked to Sam until my eyelids drooped shut.

*

In the days that followed, I kept up a steady stream of talk for Sam. I crossed several more tributaries telling him what the new cabin in Dawson would be like: “Wood floors, windows facing west, and a little reading corner, just like you said. Da’ll give us anything we ask for, just wait.” As I went across the Flats, I talked about you and him as though you could still get married for real: “Oh, but she’s a beauty, your Lena Lindquist. Long dark hair down to her knees and a pretty little smile that turns big when she laughs. She’ll make a beautiful bride, and your children will be prettier still. Can you imagine, you and her with a strapping boy and a half-pint little girl?” I hauled myself over a series of toothy ridges one at a time, grouching and cussing and hearing Sam chide me for my foul language. “If you’re gonna cuss, leave the Lord out of it!”

I felt half-mad. I found that I didn’t much care if I was. 

Sometime in the middle of the next-to-last day before Belle Isle, I started to sing Christmas carols. “Here’s ‘Hark the Herald Angels’ for you again, Sam!” I would cry before launching into another of his favorites. In lonely, fleeting moments when the winds blew hard, I saw Sam’s body grinning at me from the sled. “Always did love that one, Cade,” he seemed to say.

As I sat and supped that night, a kind of fierce, lonesome sorrow came over me, different from the constant ache in my chest that was Sam’s death. It was Christmas Eve and I had naught but my brother’s corpse for company. It was silly, but I guess I never really believed that anyone spent Christmas alone.

“Wish you were here,” I said. The wind whistled, but from the sled, Sam spoke not a word.

“I wish you were really here,” I said again. “Wish you hadn’t gotten me that laudanum. Wish you’d let me suffer. Wish you’d let me die, if it came to that. Wish you’d just listened to me scream and not moved a single inch.”

Sam wasn’t really on the sled. Only his body was.

“Wish you were selfish,” I said. “Wish you’d gone off to Yale or somesuch after Da left and married Lena while I was still sick and never looked back. Wish you could have had the life you wanted instead of freezing and dying in the middle of the Klondike. Wish you’d had a different brother. Wish you hadn’t had any brother!”

I was nearly yelling by this point and the dogs were getting agitated. I made myself settle and softly I muttered, “Wish I had died instead.

“You never would have let me, would you? You spent up all your life making sacrifices for your kin, so naturally you had to go and die on my account. You wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

The snow fell, and my tears fell. They froze crystal on my face. My brother didn’t answer.

*

I came to Belle Isle Altar after lunch on Christmas Day. It was right on the edge of the lake facing the water, closed in by a squat little stone building with a chimney on top. Out from the chimney, maybe half a mile into the air, came a continuous billow of smoke.

“Alright Sam,” I muttered. “Alright.” I climbed to the back of the sled where I’d left your ring with its chain still wrapped around his wrist. I felt for it. It was gone.

Immediately, my thoughts began racing. I remembered making the decision to put the ring back and go through with Sam’s offering. So, I figured, it had to be here somewhere.

I wrapped my arms around Sam’s torso and dragged him off the sled, then climbed back into the place where he had been. I scoured the whole area, raked my hands along every surface, but I couldn’t find it. Panic began to rise in my throat.

One at a time, I pulled every crate and box and item off the sled and piled them there in the snow. The sky scowled down at me as I carefully opened each and found that the ring wasn’t inside. My throat was closing up, somewhere between rage and despair. I didn’t know whether I wanted to scream to heaven or curl up in a ball and weep.

Finally, as I was pulling all the bits of firewood off the sled, I caught sight of something shiny and let out a whoop. I reached down for the engagement ring, but an instant later I realized my mistake. In my hand was only a broken-off piece of tarnished silver chain.

It must have gotten caught on one of the crates when I dragged them off the sled to chop them up, I realized. The ring itself was likely still lying there in the place where Sam had died, long since covered by drifts of snow.

Now I really did weep. I sat down on the edge of the sled and howled my woes out to the dreadful wind and snow. No offering. It was Christmas Day and I was at Belle Isle Altar without anything to burn.

No, wait. That wasn’t true. All my worldly possessions were there with me. We hadn’t brought much from Idaho, and less still had made it onto the sled when we left Fort Yukon, but I still had plenty of options. Surely, somewhere in that great pile I had a fitting treasure for Sam to offer. I turned and stared at the stack of crates and boxes. There was the monogrammed handkerchief that Da had once given Ma as a Christmas gift. There was the old family Bible, and all of my clothing, including my one good Sunday shirt.

There, leaning up against it all, was Sam’s body.

Bodies ought to be buried, but I remembered hearing once how some people prefer to cremate their dead and scatter the ashes.

“Here!” I cried aloud, and I wasn’t sure if I was talking to myself or my brother or to God. “Here is your offering!”

All in a rush, I stashed everything back on the sled except Sam’s stiff, frozen body. Then, with all my strength, I grabbed him tight beneath the arms and dragged him towards the squat little building where the Altar was waiting.

I blinked when I stepped inside. There were no windows, but it was brighter than the snow outside had been.

In the center of the squat, stone room stood a pillar of flame which started at the ground and went all the way up to the ceiling where its smoke escaped through the chimney. It was untended, and no fuel sat beneath it. From the untouched snow outside, I didn’t even think anyone had set foot in the place in at least a week. The Fire never grew or shrank. It danced and flickered, but never wavered. The light it threw off was bright, brilliant gold.

Yet it was a true fire; the smoke smelled like smoke, and the flame was blistering hot as I approached it. I came away with my parka singed.

It was all true. The Standing Fire at Belle Isle Altar was real, and as near to magic as I had ever seen. A miracle.

Would you take my meaning if I said that place covered up all my grief with a feeling altogether heavier and harder to bear? And yet the Fire was beautiful. Even now, I don’t really understand it.

Beside the Standing Fire was a stone slab big enough that I could have laid down and slept on it. It was far enough from the Fire that I could stand at it without turning red, but near enough that I was always aware of just how awfully hot it was. This was the Altar itself, erected, I assumed, by the Eskimos, or else by whatever fur trader first found this place a hundred years ago.

I left my offering a few feet from the Altar and returned to the sled for some wood.

*

I started singing again as I prepared the Altar. I started with a funeral dirge because it seemed only proper, but before long I found myself on Christmas carols again. The jolly tunes should have been at odds with the somber work I was doing, but I didn’t think Sam would have minded. Matter of fact, he’d have enjoyed it.

I arranged the kindling like I was making a bonfire, mostly because I couldn’t think of another way of doing it. Once all was set, I chose a long branch and carefully reached it to the very edge of the Standing Fire. A few seconds and it caught. I lit the kindling, and before long the flames of my Altar-fire were soaring high.

I figured there were probably words you were meant to say when you make an offering to God, but I didn’t know any of them. Then again, I didn’t think anyone had ever offered a corpse before. I was already doing the thing all wrong, so I might as well do it as best I could figure out.

“Lord, here in your presence, at the Standing Fire on Christmas Day we do bring this offering—that’s Sam and me both, Lord. He meant to give you his engagement ring, the one he’d intended for Lena Lindquist, but it got lost. I’m sorry about that; it wasn’t his fault.

“But Sam here was the best brother you ever gave anyone. I treasured him, and his body is the most precious thing I’ve got with me. If an offering is supposed to be something precious—well, I hope this is alright with You.

“But Lord, maybe it’s right that his body gets to be an offering. All his life was a sacrifice, you know. Every bit of it.”

With that, I burrowed a hole in the glowing center of the fire, and I hefted my brother’s body in. Then I turned round and fled out into the cold. I didn’t want to see him burn.

The wind was blowing hard, howling cross the frozen expanse. It was proper cold, but I could still feel the heat from the Standing Fire licking all over me. Sweat rolled down my forehead and the small of my back. I went back to the sled to get something to drink.

I made camp, melted some snow for water, and ate a little food. The stars came out overhead and I don’t know why, but they seemed prettier than ever that night. I tilted my head back in awe.

I don’t know how long I waited before returning to the Altar, but I think it was a good long while. I padded back cautiously, almost frightened—though I don’t really know what I was afraid of. I opened the door.

Sam was sitting cross legged on the Altar in the midst of the flames, cool as you please. When he saw me, he looked up laughing and called, “Close the door, won’t you? Don’t let the heat out.”

It was all I could do to stop myself lunging into the fire to grab hold of him.

“Sam?” I choked out, “Is that really you?”

“I told you, Cade: Death ain’t such a big thing.” My brother reached out his hand from inside the flame. I touched it.

Living flesh.

We laced our fingers together for a moment, and his hand was just like it always was. I could feel the calluses on his palm, the little raised scar on the back of his thumb he got making a fishhook when he was nine, the strength of his grip.

And then he was gone. The fire on the Altar burned with his ashes, and beyond it the miraculous radiance of the Standing Fire blazed on.

I don’t know what you’ll make of all this, Lena, but every word is true. Like I said: strange things happen in the Klondike. I know. I’ve seen them. I burned my brother Sam’s body on the Altar of the Standing Fire at Belle Isle, but I swear he was alive again in those flames.

[soft-persephone]

Minx Season 2 Episode 7

(I apologize in advance for how long this is. However, I included markers by character.)

We have had two seasons of this show and even though there’s one more episode left, I’m gonna go ahead and call it it…..

One thing about Minx, the last three episodes are always going to be the best! This show climaxes like no other show I’ve watched before.

But my jaw is simply on the floor, more so than last week.

I always knew Constance was up to something, but as satisfying as being right is, at what cost!

I am in emotional turmoil!

But I’m moving too fast. I’ll come back to that later.

The mommy murder opening was insane!

But Doug and his bird? Hilarious.

No one takes nonsense as seriously as Jake Johnson does. I will always love that about him.

I’m guessing he has no name because everyone just calls him bird or the bird, but in my mind his name is Petey. It’s just a very birdy name.

Richie

Richie’s story arch is tied to his creativity and how he uses Minx to explore that. It’s not just his creativity, but an expression of himself, his sexuality, and his queerness.

At Bottom Dollar, Richie had complete creative control. Joyce didn’t care what these pictures looked like as long as she could write whatever articles she wanted.

But after their success and fame, Joyce is pushing back. She’s pushing more and more to have a say into the magazine. It is very much her magazine so she can do that, but she has a repertoire with Richie. He’s not some random employee, but a friend who’s been there since she started.

There is a right and wrong way to go about things.

Constance tells her about the rumor of gay readers and Joyce relents even though she believes that all kinds of people have the right to be buying and engaging in their magazine. However, Joyce respects and admires Constance, so she’ll be more open to doing what she suggests. If this idea was presented by literally anyone else, we would have gotten the regular Joyce Prigger pushback.

But back to Richie, he takes this opportunity to do what he wants. He does the bathhouse shoot. And I am proud of him for going after what he wants even though this is only going to result in backlash and a fight.

But that’s why we love this show!

The best scenes happen when these characters aren’t exactly on the same page, but we want them to be.

They all have the same goal of wanting to be a part of this magazine and wanting it to work for their careers and personal and professional desires. They can either do it together, or start stabbing each other in the back or disrespecting each other a long the way, like they’ve been doing all throughout season 2.

And when Richie takes away all of the Minx people and goes back into a creative space that probably shows why he probably picked up his camera in the first place, we finally see a glimpse into why he’s been acting the way he has. (If it hasn’t been obvious to some. This show has a lot of subtlety)

And the moment in the end when he photographs the police raid? Beautiful. Simply beautiful.

Shelly and Bambi

Shelly’s character arc has definitely been throwing me through a loop.

Clearly she can’t just cheat on her husband. She’s doubling down and recommitting to him, and then they became swingers?

Just what exactly is going on?

But her decision to come out to her husband completely??

What’s gonna happen now?!?!

Are they gonna get a divorcee? Is he going to be her beard? Is she gonna move to that college Joyce went to and be with professor Miram?

But overall the conversation she has with Bambi was one of the best scenes this episode.

It gives us more insight into Bambi than we’ve had so far and it’s amazing!

Bambi is such a dynamic character!

She’s fun and flirty and her one liners never fail to make me laugh, but it’s very easy to create an idea of who she is than actually dive into the character she actually might be, and the show playing with that idea that we have as an audience and showcasing that in this moment through Shelly is Brilliant!

I love good writing!😭

Because I don’t think we know a lot about Bambi either! All we know is that her and Shelly being together would mean a lot to us as an audience.

Shelly decided on her own that Bambi isn’t a good idea, and in her own way, maybe she’s right.

But it’s not fair to act like Bambi doesn’t have just as many feelings and thoughts about what happened between them.

Joyce and Constance

I’m not gonna lie.

I haven’t fully understood Joyce’s journey this season.

So she’s full of herself now? Is that supposed to be it?

However, I will do my best to bring out something. However, no one please hesitate to tell me off if you thought of something else! I really wanna talk to other people!!!

Joyce has always been a little insecure.

It was her biggest battle in season one. She chose to publish herself through a porn magazine and she couldn’t really handle the backlash or anything that came with it.

But in season two, she’s okay with it, but it’s starting to bleed into other factors of her life.

There are more eyes on her than before, and she now probably in a very deep down secret place, believes being unknown and overlooked was better.

There are more eyes on her than ever. She’s in Rolling Stone. People know who she is, but Joyce doesn’t actually know who she is or who she wants to be. She has idea of that, but her insecurity of herself, leaves her grasping at straws.

When Constance tells her to make sure the magazine isn’t too gay, she immediately ignored her own thoughts and desires out of some respect and admiration, but if it was Doug, she might not have let that happen. She would have pushed back.

When Constance Tells her she’s in control and every decision is hers, she doesn’t push back on Constance giving Tina the job even though she gave it to Doug. It’s safe to assume (maybe? Probably?), that Constance has only given Joyce an illusion of control.

However, if that’s true, it only works because she thinks Constance is her mentor.

And she is!

It’s beautiful to see a successful woman take Joyce under her wing. I don’t think there was any maliciousness or cold hearted business at play when it comes to their relationship.

I think Constance doesn’t want to see what happened to her happen to Joyce, but Constance doesn’t understand the friendship between all these people. She doesn’t understand that they have a bond that used to mean something to each other! That they still have in some ways! It’s just not as strong. Success, money, and fame have left them all a little distant, but I think in the finale, they will all reconnect with that bond and each other.

So when they have that final conversation by the fire, I think it finally sinks in for Joyce (or maybe not completely, but at least a little, ) that Constance might not know everything. That she might not be what she wanted from a mentor.

That she can’t rely on other people’s opinion of her and stand on her own ground a little.

Maybe this in addition to the conversation with her sister and that moment on the plane ,after she hooks up with that guy, will finally help Joyce come to terms with herself and stop relying on outward praise and attention from others.

Doug and Tina

Doug is on the Scneid!!

He said so himself.

It’s been loss after loss after loss.

Constance has taken almost everything from him, and even then she goes for literally everything.

She’s dissolving Bottom Dollar and she might take away Minx altogether!

His life’s work and his first golden ticket!

He confronts Tina and wow do they have a conversation…

Tina has been his secretary for 10 years! She helped him build Bottlm Dollar from the ground up!

And what does she have to show for it?

Nothing.

But a year and a few months with Constance (I’m making up the time skip. I didn’t do the actual math or go back and look at the episodes to figure it out, but let’s pretend!☺️)

And she has the biggest promotion of her life! She gets to go to Europe!

Doug is losing his entire life and the girl.

He might be able to stomach losing his job. He is a natural born hustler. He will dust himself off from this loss and find his next moneymaker. Lord knows this wouldn’t be his first time doing it.

But he can’t lose Tina too. Because she is everything. She gives his life the meaning. Tina is what is actually worth living for.

This will literally leave him with nothing, and it might crush him.

But Tina is getting her first glimpse at everything she’s ever hoped and dreamed for. And as a black woman in the 70s, she has to take it. That’s a no brainer!

After this episode I can’t help to think, that this offer from Constance is her thing. It’s what she’s been working her life towards.

However, she’s always wanted it during those ten years with Doug. She wanted him to give her that shiny life changing offer.

The only promotion he’s given her was to spite Joyce after she walked out on Minx after the talk show.

While she loves Doug, she can’t exactly trust him to put her first.

She’s broken her back, supported him when she knows he’s wrong, and given everything to make sure his thing works out.

But he can’t stand to see the tables turned for once.

I love Tina and Doug, I love the scenes where they smile at each other and they’re happy, where you can’t help but to think of all the ways they love each other.

However, there is something about angst that truly makes them come alive.

Idara and Jake bring out so much more from these two characters when they fight, and I want to see more!

I really hope the next episode doesn’t patch things up with a bandage and big bright bow and give us a 100% happy ending.

I want bottom dollar to be okay, and I want them to get the reigns of Minx from Constance. I also really want the relationship between Tina and Doug to build itself up to the couple they can be.

They are not on the same page. (I’ll make a post about that by itself later.)

This episode was truly something special. Everyone had their acting hats on and they were also in their bag!

I can’t wait to see how episode 8 somehow tops this one.

[boquetofblades]

Cleopatra Canna Lily

Name: Chika Shihoin Age: Old Ass man Height: 6’2 Birthday: February 2nd Appearance: Chika is a dark skinned man with short, white hair and narrow, yellow eyes. He wears the standard shinigami uniform, as well as the captain's haori. A scarf is wrapped around his neck, ending at the bottom his chest. He holds the top and bottom part of his clothing together with the obi, but underneath the obi is an orange and yellow corset.

Tenth heir of the Shihoin clan. Despite being infamous for his barbaric fighting style, as well as his high body count, Chika contributed a lot to the techniques of the Shihoin clan; such as the invention of Shunkō, Taketonbo, Kazagurama, and Tsugiraki. He also strengthened the use of Shunpo. This was all done during his time as the 2nd division captain. Didn’t care much for being roped in as a captain, since the job was entertaining for him. After the war ended, Chika was also appointed as the first head of the Onmitsukidō by Yamamoto. He was still able to keep his title as 2nd division captain, though.

Chika Shihoin is presented as a laid-back person, preferring to take the moment in rather than being so serious about everything. He’s rather casual with who he speaks, no matter the ranking or side they're on. He often tells people under him not to address him formally, to ‘talk as if we’re friends!’ However, it’s unknown if he really means it, or just saying it, as his words should not be taken at face value. Despite that, he’s genuinely a friendly guy, able to make smooth conversation with him and the person he’s talking to. Don’t mistake his attitude for weakness. Even before he was appointed as the 2nd division captain, the tenth heir of the Shihoin clan was infamous for being a cold-blooded killer; having a large body count behind him, as well as being known for rarely fighting with his Zanpakuto, mostly using his arms or legs to rip someone apart. Whenever he finds someone ‘interesting’ in battle, he’s a lot more talkative; saying as much as he can to get underneath his opponent’s skin. To add on, he’s also an extremely quick thinker in battle. He is very knowledgeable about the inner workings of Soul Society.

Shunpo. Being someone who strengthened the technique, Chika can easily close tremendous gaps of distance in the blink of an eye while remaining undetected. Hakuda Master. In his time, Chika was the most accomplished hand-to-hand combatant in Soul Society, even if there were little to no techniques for it. His mastery of the art allows her to fight almost exclusively as his form of combat, forgoing his Zanpakutō altogether.  Shunkō.  An advanced technique that combines Hakuda with Kidō. This technique surrounds Chika’s back and arms with pressurized Kidō. The Kidō itself can be controlled and fired at opponents from his body, which creates massive explosions. The technique wasn’t perfected when it was made by Chika, but it was extremely destructive, making the technique a feared one. Doesn’t use it as much, though. Kidō Master. Having been the creator of Shunkō, Chika is well-versed in Kido. 

Shikai: uhhhh Bankai: uhhhh

Strength: ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ Stamina: ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ Speed: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ Durability: ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ Intelligence: ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆

Due to Chika Shihoin being extremely powerful and part of the strongest generation of the Gotei 13, please do not expect him to easily lose in a fight. I am noting that he may be op, though, so during a fight with him, I’d prefer if we plotted things out ^^.

[lunarsilkscreen]

Mercantiles and Capitalism (or why capitals rely so heavily on socialism)

I'm going to frame this as a non-historically accurate story on mercantiles. I know I do that for everything. But I feel the need to explain that the overall sentiment in trying to convey is easier than being 100% factually accurate.

When humans started farming, we eventually started trading the things that we grew, including the tools used to farm easier and quicker. This is where the government comes into play. We needed a way to ensure disputes were settled, and that people were paid in something if something they made or grew was taken. Or fending off wild animals. Or any number of things that come out when you get enough people together.

Basically, farming and everything that supported farming, were how humans survived. And food and the tools to grow that food were currency. Until we started mining minerals to use as monetary currency to represent the trade and storage of value to use where we needed it. Petty cash.

You can't eat money, it has no other use besides an intermediary between purchasing and selling goods. But we as people, also used money as ornamentation. Jewelery, which represents a store of wealth, and could be sold off when times got hard.

Or stolen, by people who times were hard for. But in a small enough community, with customized unique jewelry, it was probably pretty clear who you stole it from. (📍)

Tribes built thriving cities, and then these cities saw that other cities had other goods to trade. So the mercantiles were created. Merchandise you couldn't get without leaving town on a journey had a high value between cities.

But again, when times get hard for somebody. Or it's more valuable to steal from somebody than do the work... (📍)

And so the mercantiles needed protections and support from their own government, and the government in the next city over. And in some cases, insurance, should their valuables be lost in transit.

And the government's role started including communicating with other cities, and creating connecting roadways, and taking on the costs of mercenaries that would be used to protect caravans. To make trading between cities cheaper, easier, and accessible to individuals.

This line of government support is what's behind the basis of socialism. Without Socialism, Capitalism is inaccessible, because it encourages fighting and theft between groups. (📍)

As cities grew and thrived from trade, we get to city-states, states, and countries. And you can see as the needed government size grows. All to encourage capitalist pursuits. Making it more affordable and accessible to the individuals who wish to participate.

And, in return, the individuals also get a voice in how their governments are run, so that they may raise issues that need addressing. Without the voice of the individuals, there can be no government. Without government, there is no socialism, and without Socialism, there can be no trade, risk taking, or capitalism.

Everytime that Capitalism has failed, everytime the technological advancement was hindered, has always been when the individuals rights were taken away. Slavery, for example, has a long history of "generating" money by owning other people. And, had the south won the civil war, would've put a halt in the industrial resolution in the U.S. (📍)

Every time individual rights are on the chopping block, or every time they're ignored for profit, we see halt in technological advancement and growth. And every time we see it resume is whenever there's war where the stakes are individual rights. As in Germany with the Jews. Or the U.S. with the Japanese, and later the Muslims.

This is an unquestionable fact: That individuals rights need protection, because when we don't have them, human progress stops.

Without Socialism, we don't have Capitalism, and without real capitalism, the real ability for an individual to take a risk, without a safety net so they can try again, from the bottom if they must, we have no technological advancement.

Stagnation occurs, and people rely on manipulating levers, like corporate Lobbyists, patents and copyrights held far longer than a single humans life span, inaccessible property, and manipulation of the stock market. They all hinder the risk individuals can take, and thus hinder humanity as a whole.

Today, we need the Government to do two things. Bring our cultures together, and protect individual rights. There will always be disputes, and that's why we need individual voices to be heard by the governments of the world, because what we have isn't currently profitable for anybody.

But what is profitable, is taking rights away from individuals. (📍)

[shesey]

Excerpt's from Annie Ernaux's A Woman's Story

For a woman, marriage was a matter of life or death. It was either the hope of making it work together, or else hitting rock bottom. I think she saw the war years as a break in the struggle to succeed. With so much misery around, fighting for social advancement had lost all meaning. When I think of my mother's violent temper, outbursts of affection, and reproachful attitude, I try not to see them as facets of her personality but to relate them to her own story and social background. This way of writing, which seems to bring me closer to the truth, relieves me of the dark, heavy burden of personal remembrance by establishing a more objective approach. In her opinion, self-improvement was first and foremost a question of learning and nothing was more precious than knowledge. She would often say, one must occupy one's mind. With him I had fun, with her I had conversations. Of the two, she was the dominating figure, the one who represented authority. Because she feared people wouldn't love her for what she was, she hoped they would love her for what she could give. She insisted on helping us through our last year at college and was always asking what we wanted as a present. The other family had originality and a sense of humor. They felt they owed us nothing. She seemed disappointed by my silence because it offered no answer to the question that was probably foremost in her mind: Does he at least make her happy? I have just read in a newspaper that "despair is a luxury." The book I started writing after my mother's death - a book that I both the time and the ability to write - may also be seen as a form of luxury.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Rage Fire Institution

Finalising. 44.

By the time Tatsumi climbed into bed, Maki had had enough time to be back on his comms. It reminded him he needed to tell his boyfriend about his Tatsa account, but that would have to wait until the morning. Lying shoulder to shoulder was a strange feeling after so many years. He’d slept next to his old teammates before, yet none of them in an intimate fashion. Maki closing his comms off then placing it on the bedside table before settling back down

“Why is there a mech poster on your ceiling?”

“So I don’t panic when I wake up”

“Does that happen often?”

Tatsumi didn’t want to lie, nor did he know how it would go sleeping next to Maki a second time

“Sometimes. It’s so I know I’m not waking up in hospital. I’m not the biggest fan of white ceilings”

“That makes sense. I’m not keen on them either. Normally I wake up to bunk bed slats and three snoring alphas”

“Wait until you’re in a barracks sharing with a dozen other men. There’ll be at least two you want to smother in the first week”

Brushing the back of his hand, Maki then took it in his, interlacing their fingers together

“You don’t have to tell me about that if you don’t want to, but you can. I can’t even imagine how different it is”

“It’s a good different for the most part. Not the war, but the people you meet. That’s how I met Samara. He was an engineer. I needed a part swapped out and wanted to do it myself, and we got into a fight over it. Friends since”

“And your squad leader?”

“Died. But he was a good man too. Firm as fuck, but not to the point of disinterest”

“I don’t know how to handle death”

“No one does. A whole life gone in an instant. It’s depressing but a fact of war”

Maki rolled over to face him, Tatsumi turning his head to look at his boyfriend, smiling fondly as he gave the alpha’s hand a firm squeeze

“It’s alright to be scared. We all get scared”

“I know, but I’m… I’m glad you made it back. You’re a good man”

“I try. And I’m probably nowhere as good as people think. I used to be the biggest shithead in school”

“See, I can’t picture that at all”

“It’s true. I was always ending up in fights or in the principals office. Had the biggest chip on my shoulder and a dire need to over prove myself”

“Because you’re an omega?”

“Yeah. That was part of it. That and home life”

Maki bit his lip, Tatsumi reminded again that there was six years between them. He’d had longer away from Eve to heal than Maki had with his family, and wanted Maki to feel like he could pry there too if he wanted

“It’s okay. Growing up was a bit rough, but you find generally the older you get the more you understand. I wasn’t exactly thrilled to present as an omega after seeing what my mother went through. I wanted to be an alpha like all my friends but my friends didn’t make a fuss over it so it wasn’t so bad”

“Tatsumi… do you have a partner for your heats? Is it okay to ask that? I tried researching omegas but it’s so complicated…”

“No. I use a sleep pod for the week then take an extra week off to recover. My glands tend to swell right up so a sleep pod is the best option”

“Did… is sharing a heat a thing we do now?”

Tatsumi snorted, he couldn’t help himself. Maki sounded concerned more than excited like most alphas would

“Not immediately. I’m due after the competition. Because of the accident it’s better that my body keeps its heat cycle. But I’m not asking you to share my heat with me so soon. Like I wouldn’t share your rut cycle with you without your permission and things being pre-organised in advance”

“Omegas have it tougher. I’ve never done that… like that way”

“Everyone’s different. Some omegas only top and some only bottom, sometimes you want to be held and sometimes you want to do the holding. It’s fine to take your time and work out the things you like and don’t like together. Just remember, there’s no such thing as too much lube. Even if omegas slick and loosen because it’s in us to breed, that doesn’t mean you can rush it and stick it straight in. Foreplay is important too, but what’s more important is the mood between you and your partner. Sometimes it’s to scratch an itch, and sometimes slow and long is best”

Maki wriggled closer to him, so Tatsumi rolled on his side so they were facing each other

“I’ve had sex before but with girls…”

“I’ve had sex too. It doesn’t have to be a big deal… and it’s not a deal breaker to wait. I haven’t had sex since the accident”

“Is it your back?”

“That’s part of it. They’re not the easiest things to look at. I’m going to be honest, it’s going to take some time to get used to someone seeing them that’s not a medical professional”

“I thought we weren’t rushing? I don’t want you to feel you have to”

Reaching out, Tatsumi tucked Maki’s fringe back behind his ear

“I know, but I also might freak out and scare you. That’s another reason I didn’t want to admit that I started having feelings for you. I know I carry a lot of shit from going to war”

“If I came back scarred, would you still talk to me?”

“Of course. It’s always easier when it’s someone else. Besides, therapy should help. I’ve got a younger lover to keep up with now”

“Are we still lovers if we’re not having sex?”

“I’d like to think so, but let’s save words like love until we’re further down the line and see how we feel about each other then”

“That sounds fair. I feel totally lame not knowing all this”

“Then let me be the cool mature one for a change. I’ve got to get my moments when I can take them. We should get some sleep”

“Can I kiss you before we do?”

“Yeah. But only a small one. If we spend all our time making out we’ll never get to sleep”

Maki did as he was permitted, sharing three kisses with Tatsumi before rolling on his back. Tatsumi doing the same, before rolling over. He felt happy, warm, and content with Maki being beside him.

***

Maki woke up late. Sleeping in Tatsumi’s bed was practically heaven compared to his bunk. He’d felt Tatsumi slide out of his hold, but the call of sleep had been too strong. He’d actually managed to kiss Tatsumi without making a mess of things… and he’d liked watching the documentary on mechs while holding hands with his boyfriend. That wasn’t to say he’d kicked his nerves, but he had loosened up after being totally lame.

Heading into the living space, Tatsumi and Eve were having breakfast. The flowers he’d gifted Eve now sat on the small dining table where the pair were eating. Tatsumi smiling as he noticed Maki

“Good morning. Come sit down and I’ll get you some breakfast”

Still tired, Maki stumbled slightly as he asked

“What’s the time?”

“Half past 8. You were more tired than you thought”

A four hour sleep in seemed too good to be true. Walking over to the dining table, Maki sat down, or rather, slumped down. Amazed he’d slept in and slept so soundly. He’d half woken a couple of times, finding he was using Tatsumi as his pillow, then drifted back off without any further thought

“Good morning, Maki. I trust you slept well”

“Really well. Better than I thought I would for sure”

“You probably needed the rest, love. Tatsumi tells me you’re to thank for these flowers”

Eve was saying a lot of words at him, Maki wishing he was more of a morning person

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you for letting me sleep here last night. It didn’t feel right to turn up empty handed”

“Eve is fine, and you have very nice manners for someone so young. They’re beautiful, Maki. I hope Tatsumi was a respectable host”

Seeing they’d made out and missed the second half the documentary, Maki felt himself blush. Tatsumi calling from the kitchen

“Do you really think I don’t know you’d have my arse if I wasn’t?”

“I’m simply making sure. What did you two get up to while I was sleeping?”

He’d sat in Tatsumi’s lap and acted like a dog with a pillow… Maki hoped Tatsumi would answer, then realised that Eve was looking right at him

“Oh. Um. We watched a documentary on mechs then slept. It was really good. The documentary. They were talking about how they’ve evolved from the first prototypes and that”

Ugh. Lame Maki was back. Tatsumi chuckling as he teased his mother

“Go easy on him, mama, he hasn’t had his coffee yet”

“You pilots sure have a weird attitude towards what makes a good night. I thought you two would get enough of mechs at that school. How goes your training? I hope Tatsumi isn’t taking it too lightly?”

“No, ma-… Eve. If anything I’m not entirely sure he isn’t torturing me for fun”

Magically coffee appeared over his shoulder, Maki immediately wrapping his hands around the mug. Immensely happy to see an allie as Tatsumi ruffled his hair

“I’m not torturing him. I’m torturing three pilots now. This time next week we’ll be in Alma Tan. Maki, toast or cereal?”

Right. People ate food… he couldn’t only have coffee

“Toast please?”

Eve skipped over the whole scene as if it were normal as Tatsumi headed back to the kitchen

“Yes, Joyce is very excited about it all. You’ll have to tell us how to watch it all. I never thought my son would have three pilots! I hope they’re paying you a teachers wage there”

Maki mentally agreed with her there. Skylark, Poaw, and Hallow were all the official help the school let them have, yet Tatsumi had done the most getting the teams ready

“Ma, it’s fine. It’s given me a lot of ideas for my dissertation in the future. Certain people keep telling me I need to hurry up and become a professor”

“It sounds like excuses to me”

“I’m fine where I am. I’m not made for teaching, and part of growing older is accepting these things. Let Maki get some coffee into him. Go ahead, I made it cool enough that you don’t need to wait”

Tatsumi made good coffee, Maki feeling much more alive by the time he’d finished breakfast, showered and gotten rid of his morning breath. He didn’t know what to do now. Tatsumi had to help Eve get ready for the day, and he’d taken off without letting Li know. His best friend would be mad at him for leaving him behind on their day off. He had promised Li his time. Only… he didn’t want to go into another shop for at least a month after the day before. Tatsumi had handled it all too well. Him showing up. His bad mood. Him kissing him. Him crawling into Tatsumi’s lap as if it were perfectly natural.

Maki couldn’t help blushing at the memory as he flopped back on his omega’s bed with his arms spread. Tatsumi was a really good kisser. When his hands had hiked up Maki’s shirt, warmth had spread right through his body where his boyfriend touched him. Tatsumi’s hands rough and soft at the same time, hands that could strip a mech down and rebuild it had been holding onto him. He’d thought they’d talk more about the rules between them when it came to being on campus, but they’d both been too tired for that. Now he had the whole day ahead of him with Tatsumi and he wanted to do something different.

The problem was, he didn’t want to come between Tatsumi and Eve. He didn’t know Eve’s level of mobility or if she’d even want to go out and do something with the pair of them. Maki wouldn’t have minded staying home either, yet with the competition coming up he wanted to do something fun. Something he and Tatsumi would always have to themselves… Kind… kind of like a date. Of course with Eve there, it wouldn’t be a date as such. It’d be him hanging out with his friend and his friend’s mother.

Despite owning his home, Tatsumi pulled on the open bedroom door, pulling Maki out his thoughts

“Eve’s ready for the day. Is there anything you want to do? Or do you have plans with Li?”

“I’m meant to catch up with him, but he doesn’t know we’re dating yet and I don’t want to put my foot in it”

“Ah… if you’re meant to see Li, you should catch up with him. He probably misses you like mad”

“Didn’t you hear the part where I said he doesn’t know? He’s in full operation to distract me from my crush on you. If I’m hanging out with him, he’ll somehow find a couple of girls and say it’s take my mind off things. I feel bad lying to him. He’s always there for me”

The bed dipped as Tatsumi sat on the edge

“Maybe you should tell him? I know you want to keep this secret too and that he has a big mouth, but I don’t like the idea of you being miserable because you can’t talk to your best friend. He’s your best friend, and you should be able to talk to him about stuff like that”

“I know. He and Fleur kind of pointed it out to me that what I was feeling was jealousy. Both of them tried to make me feel better. If I bring home fried chicken, Li will forgive me… Never mind. What about you? What plans did you have for today?”

“None. I thought I’d see if there was anything you wanted to do”

“We can’t go do something without Eve. That doesn’t seem fair. She’s your mother and she only sees you every so often because of my training”

Tatsumi laid back on the bed next to him

“I’m not sure if she’ll want to go out. Crowds can be a bit much and she wasn’t in the mood yesterday. She’ll be okay if we want to go out for a few hours”

“That’s still like leaving her behind. Mina would beg to come with us if she was here”

“I never had a sibling so I don’t know what it’s like, but I think it’s a bit different to hanging out with your boyfriend’s mother”

“Yes and no. She’s family, after all”

Tatsumi rolled over and trapped Maki under his arm, his head resting on the alpha’s right shoulder

“You really miss her, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I worry about her. I worry that my parents will make her keep going to church. I want more than that for her, you know. When we were kids I used to call her Ao. The preschool she went to… well, the kids used to make fun of her leg and her eyes. I called her Ao so much back then she forgot Mina was her name…”

“Why Ao?”

“She used to look up at the sky so much I wondered why her eyes didn’t just turn blue like it. When we got outside she’d always be looking up for birds in trees and that sort of thing. I used to think it’d be great if her eyes turned the same colour as mine. Her left eye used to droop a little at the side. And kids can be real little shit heads”

Tatsumi kissed his shoulder

“That’s a lot for a kid to take on, you were a good big brother even back then. No wonder Mina loves you so much. I often wondered what it would have been like to have a sibling”

Maki’s was on the poster above Tatsumi’s bed. His boyfriend could have lied about it and he’d have understood if he had. Instead Tatsumi had been truthful, the least he could do was the same in return

“My mother was very protective of her and at the same time I don’t think she couldn’t stand having a daughter with a disability. She loved Mina, would buy her anything, even when we had no money to. We didn’t have that much, and we still don’t. Isn’t there something about being brothers in arms?”

“All my squad was like family to me, but it’s not the same. We didn’t grow up together and didn’t do the dumb things siblings do. I guess Kaji was the closest thing I’ve ever come to feeling I had a brother. Ah… I told myself yesterday I wouldn’t mention him”

Maki still felt bad about what he’d said about Kaji. He’d been Tatsumi’s best friend and he’d gone and gotten jealous over Tatsumi preferring Kaji to him when that hadn’t really been what Tatsumi meant

“You can mention him. I shouldn’t have snapped the way I did. I want to know about the pair of you. What you did. What you were like. What he was like. I was dumb to snap but you were falling apart and I was panicking because I didn’t want you to say no”

“You weren’t dumb. I’ve been told time and time again that he’d want me to be happy and move on. His family disowned me completely after what happened. I woke up alone and confused and suddenly everyone was gone. Kaji really was my Li. We never dated but if you can have a soulmate that’s a best friend, he was it for me. He roamed the halls of Rage Fire with me as we bullied the bullies until they cried. We were arseholes when I think about it now. Skylark might say you’re a lot like Kaji or I’m thinking of Kaji when I look at you, but that’s not it. Kaji was Kaji. You are you. You remind me of me than you do him”

Maki didn’t really feel all that better for asking about Kaji… but that was on him, not Tatsumi. Kaji had been important and Maki had to accept that, even if his dumb alpha brain had the nerve to be so jealous

“Do you have any photos?”

“Of what? When I was at school? I should do. There was a big retro revival when I was at school and printing photos became the in thing again”

“Sometimes tech goes too far… I like the idea of physical traces… except when they’re in the hands of Skylark”

Tatsumi’s laugh instantly lifted Maki’s mood

“I’ll get the albums. Eve will probably be interested too”

And then it fell. Maki remembering Eve had memory issues, Tatsumi lifting his arm up and smacking him lightly on the chest

“Don’t make that face. I know you want to see me at my prime”

“I was thinking about Eve. I don’t want to upset either of you”

“I’ve gotten used to it. She worked her guts out to raise me, coupled with PTS of her own. It took years to realise when she was crying it wasn’t because of me. Were in a better place. Besides, if I leave you in my bed any longer you’re going to fall asleep on me again”

The alpha groaned. There he’d been trying to be considerate and there Tatsumi went teasing him

“Once. I did that once”

“So last night didn’t count?”

“You’re an arse. All we did was sleep”

“So you admit you’ve slept in my bed twice now”

Sitting up, Maki shoved his boyfriend playfully to cover up his embarrassment

“Fuck off. Both times were your fault. You can’t blame because you’re bed is stupidly good”

“It is. So’s the man in it. Now I’m going to go find my albums, and you’re going to get up. If I have to relive my embarrassing pass you’re not getting a free pass on sleeping through it”

***

Maki couldn’t believe his eyes. His boyfriend really had been a rebel. Shirt untucked, tie loose, a clear aura of “Don’t mess with me” hung off his the photos of his teenage boyfriend. He’d thought going out with Eve would be the best way to spend the day, but these photos had him in stitches.

Tatsumi was a good looking teen too. He had acne but it wasn’t that bad, and he had his hair shorter than Maki thought he ever would seeing the Tatsumi he knew always had that damn long ponytail of his.

“Here, I found one of your favourite person. Tell me who you think that is”

Pointing to a man with two inch longer hair and a smile on his face, if it wasn’t for the grey he’d never have picked Skylark. He didn’t look like the bullying tyrant he knew he and hated. He wasn’t even in school uniform, dressed so casually Maki felt it was wrong

“What the hell happened to him? He’s smiling”

“We’d gotten our military acceptance letters. He was happy that we wouldn’t be coming back. Kaji’s there. And I’m on the opposite side next to Rayna. She went back to her home planet once we graduated”

Maki scanned the photo, blinking as he discovered another side to Tatsumi. It was bad enough Tatsumi looked so good without glasses, but he didn’t know he had another Li on his hands

“Oh my god, you’re blond”

“Yep. We snuck out and bleached it. Well, we snuck out, got drunk celebrating being accepted, and thought it’d be a great idea at the time. Kaji did his too, but it kind of went pink. Skylark laughed so hard he turned red. Kaji thumped him on the back and ended up on the floor for it”

“See, that I can see. This I can’t unsee”

“Hang on”

Deserting that album, Tatsumi pulled out a thick book. The cover well beaten, yet he handled it with care, fingers moving as if he’d read it a thousand times and knew exactly where his favourite part was

“Here, if you think that’s bad, look at this. This was the same year”

Placing the book over the album, Maki didn’t know why every new photo of Tatsumi was so shocking. His boyfriend smiling for his year book, with an ear full of piercings. Some gaudy pink and white cartoon character hanging off the lowest piecing on Tatsumi’s left lobe. It was definitely something way more suited to Mina

“You had piercings?”

“Fake. We’d have had to have to taken them out before we got into the military. We all did it, I mean our friend group. We swapped jackets with the first years too. The photographer had no idea seeing they were a hired company for the school photos”

“You’re a total rebel”

“Wasn’t I? We really did think that things would never change”

“I can I take a look?”

Tatsumi passed the year book over

“Sure. We tried to run a con too. You know, stand in for people who didn’t want their photos taken but we got caught. Being pregnant, Rayna didn’t want her face in the year book because it was so round, so our other friend took her place”

“Hold up, she was pregnant?”

“Yep. That’s part of why she went back to her home planet. It’s part of their culture there still that most people have their first between 18 and 20. She never intended to follow through into the military like the rest of us. She wanted to learn as much as she could then take back to her planet”

That was way too young. Maki couldn’t comprehend even expecting his first at his age, let alone four years prior

“Did you stay in touch?”

“Not really. It gets hard when you’re always moving around. I’d actually forgotten about her”

Tatsumi seemed not to care, but Maki got the feeling he’d touched something he should leave alone

“I still can’t picture you with blond hair”

“It was about as opposite as we could get with a limited budget and being too drunk. Check out some of the hair styles while you’re at it”

Maki decided Tatsumi’s year book was a wild ride from start to finish. He could see why it was so thick with the science wing combined into the pilot track photos. Finding Kaji was easy with his red hair. And as Tatsumi had said, he found their other friend who’d gone the whole five yards with make up and false breasts to fill in for Rayna. By the time he raised his head, he realised his boyfriend and Eve were bickering about another album

“What’s that one?”

“Ahhh, it’s the baby photos. Eve’s favourite. You don’t get to see that one”

“Why not?”

“Because like every mother she’s got ones of me naked and ones of me in embarrassing situations”

“That sounds like something I should see”

“Nope”

“I’d show you mine”

“No you wouldn’t. I know you better than that”

Teased with childhood photos, Maki mentally huffed. Placing down the book and the album, he picked up another from the pile. Unlike Tatsumi’s baby photos, the moment he opened this one, he knew he wasn’t meant to see it. A pile of online print outs greeting him with headlines over a military mission gone wrong. Snapping it shut, he’d seen too much. “Ambush at Miteraya Ridge. Friendly Fire Gone Wrong?”. He didn’t need to go further

“What’s that one?”

He could lie, or he could be honest. Tatsumi probably wouldn’t mind, but Maki did

“Clippings. There’s too many words”

Tatsumi seemed to pause, then relax very very slightly. Yeah. He didn’t seem to believe Maki hadn’t looked inside, though he had to know he wouldn’t

“Thanks. That one shouldn’t be in with these. I didn’t know it was here”

What did he say to that? Friendly fire gone wrong? For Tatsumi to be as messed up as he had been, that… that was fucked enough. Let alone for it to be friendly fire. With all that Tatsumi had been through, the clipping must have been his way of trying to understand why things had gone wrong

“What else is there to look at?”

Tatsumi seemed grateful for the out, while Maki winced internally. Out of everything he could have said, he’d sounded lame in front of his boyfriend again

“I do have photos from when we were on leave… they should be here somewhere. So should our mechs. I’m surprised you’re not sick of photos”

“Are you kidding? These are hilarious. You were blond. Shit, I should have stolen that one. No one would ever believe me”

“Then I think it’s a good thing I’ve got the only copies. Unless you plan on sneaking and stealing it“

“Nah. I know a guy who would totally get me a copy if I asked nicely”

“Funny, I know that guy too and he definitely wouldn’t”

Maki pouted, causing Tatsumi to shove him teasingly as he laughed

“That won’t work. I don’t want these on the school forum”

“I don’t want them on there either. You’re crazy popular as it is”

“I have no idea why…”

Whatever Tatsumi was going to say was cut off as the front door opened. Both of them confused, Tatsumi more so when a vaguely familiar woman came bustling in

“Joyce? I thought you had the weekend off”

Right. Joyce. She helped Eve… She also seemed as confused as them, until Eve spoke up

“Don’t be like that, I called her and asked her to come in. You two should be out having fun”

Maki could only dream of rolling his eyes at his parents the way Tatsumi rolled his at his mother. His home had been suffocating, not like what Tatsumi and Eve had

“Ma, we were having fun. It’s been ages since you’ve had someone to show your photos off to”

Eve closed the album in her lap. Maki had been having fun until he’d accidentally found those articles

“Don’t think I don’t know you two have better things to do be doing then keeping an old woman happy”

“Maki wanted to…”

“Ah, ah, ah, I’m your mother. It’s too nice of a day and I can’t keep up with you young people. I heard you two, discussing what to do today”

Suddenly Maki felt awful. He didn’t think he said anything too bad, but he couldn’t know for sure

“I’m sorry, ma’am… I mean Eve. I thought maybe it would be nice to go out seeing I kind of crashed your time with Tatsumi”

Eve shook her head

“I’m not mad at you. This son of mine on the other hand could have manned up and told me you two were intimate”

Oh. God. Eve knew. Maki’s face burning. Tatsumi quickly trying to explain

“Ma… it’s…”

“Don’t tell me it’s not like that. Now, out. Both of you”

Eve had to be mad. She seemed mad. Of course she was mad. Maki didn’t want her being mad at Tatsumi

“You can be mad at me, but don’t be mad at Tatsumi. I asked him… not him asking me…”

Why couldn’t the sofa swallow him whole? It was his fault that the afternoon had been ruined and he was getting between Tatsumi and Eve. Had he been too excited? Or said something wrong? He didn’t think he had… Eve waved him off

“This son of mine has never been good at being subtle. I could tell from the way he looks at you. I asked Joyce to come this afternoon, just in case I was wrong. Pack your things and off you go. You two should be off on a date, or whatever you young people do now”

Tatsumi sighed at his mother

“Ma, we talked about this. Maki wanted to see the albums… We’re honestly fine looking at them. Unless you don’t like showing your son off”

“No. No, my mind is made up. Enjoy this young love while it lasts”

While it lasts. Eve said she didn’t mind, but she didn’t have to word it the way she had. He was serious about trying to figure out dating with Tatsumi. Was it because he was younger? Or was it because he was an alpha?

“Ma, we’re taking it slow. Maki and I decided to be here”

“You decided and Maki agreed. I’m plenty happy seeing the both of you”

“And we’re happy here…”

“But you could be happier out on a date. You’re annoying me now. I know how you can be, Tatsumi. You always get bossy”

That wasn’t fair to Tatsumi… but it wasn’t Maki’s place to step in on things he didn’t know. Eve was complicated. Family was complicated

“Fine. I’ll take my boyfriend on a date. Most mother’s wouldn’t kick their only son out to go on a date with his boyfriend”

“Most sons don’t make their mothers worry so much, and hide their boyfriend’s”

“We haven’t been dating long… we’re still working it out”

“All the more reason to have some fun for a change. Of you go. Don’t you worry about me and Joyce being here alone”

Maki still felt awful as he gathered up his things. Tatsumi leaving him alone while he put the albums back. He’d never meant to upset Eve, nor give away they were dating for now. It was cruel, yet he hoped for Tatsumi’s sake that Eve might forget. When Tatsumi finally came back, Maki noticed he had that album with him. The one with the articles. His boyfriend didn’t look happy and Maki didn’t know what to say. Both of them packing in silence before Tatsumi gave a nod to say he was done.

Sent ahead, Tatsumi stopped to talk to Joyce, Maki waiting on the front door step until his boyfriend came out. Silently they made their way together to the street, before Maki finally broke the awkwardness he felt

“I didn’t mean to upset your mother”

“Don’t worry, you didn’t really”

“I think I did. She kicked you out of your own home. I’m so sorry”

Tatsumi wrapped his arm around him, ruffling his hair

“You did nothing wrong. That was her mad at herself. She wants to go out and do things, but she’s an overthinker too. She thinks she’s a huge burden half the time. You could say I get my overthinking from her”

“I still feel like…”

“I promise you it wasn’t you. If she had a problem she would have told me sooner”

“But she called Joyce”

“I already paid Joyce for her time off. And like I said, that was her mad at herself. As well as her being supportive. She’ll probably be talking to Joyce about it all already. How her son snagged a handsome younger man”

“I don’t understand why she thought I wasn’t having a good time?”

“To her it’s probably too boring and doesn’t want the man actually interested in son run off because of boredom”

“Yeah, but what are we going to do now?”

“We could go on that date?”

Maki felt worse. He didn’t have the bank budget for a date

“We don’t have to. She did kind of tell us to”

“I’m game if you are”

“No. It’s okay. We can head back to the institution. We might run into people we know”

“It’s your free day anyway. They see us together basically every day”

There Tatsumi went with his logical arguments. If they went somewhere then he’d only really have enough money to pay his own way

“Maki?”

He couldn’t even look Tatsumi in the eye as his boyfriend stared at him with concern

“Let’s head back”

“If that’s what you want to do, we can. But I would rather here why you don’t want to go out”

“It’s just…”

“Just?”

He’d already messed up with Eve. He might as well ruin things completely at this stage. His words filled with shame as Maki mumbled

“I can’t afford it”

Tatsumi didn’t skip a beat

“Students have it rough. If you can’t afford it then just pick up the next one when you have money again”

“That’s lame. What kind of alpha doesn’t have money for a date?”

“The kind of alpha where something like that doesn’t matter to me. It’s not like I’m rolling in money either. And like I said, you can pay me back for today, or you can pick up on the next date. It doesn’t even have to be a date if you don’t want it to be. Call me selfish, but I’d rather do something with you”

“I want to do something to. I was having fun looking at your albums”

“I could tell. You were smiling nearly the whole time”

“That’s because you’re a total rebel. I can’t believe it. You were all Mister Serious on my arse, but you pulled the same shit”

“Face it, we both know you’re still shocked over the blond more than that I was a rebel”

“It’s both. And your hair was so short. I’ve only ever known you with a ponytail”

“No glasses either. I feel like you got the budget version of a boyfriend”

Maki shook his head. He didn’t know if he and Tatsumi would have gotten on if they’d been the same age, but he did know he liked his boyfriend now

“Don’t be like that. It was fun to see other sides of you. You’re not a budget version”

“You’re not bad yourself, either. Now, if you’re really worried about cost we can go somewhere cheaper. The only reason I really spend money is for the necessities, and on mech bits. Coffee is a treat for me too”

“See, you’re being comforting, but I feel so lame”

“You’re not lame. Coming over and thinking of Eve, that was really cool of you”

“Stop rubbing it in. And it’s not like I know where people go on dates. I’m not even dressed for a date”

“You look fine the way you are. We already did the aquarium with Mina, but there’s still the zoo, or the art gallery, or maybe not the art gallery given how much you dislike holding a paintbrush. It’s not the location that matters, it’s who you’re with”

Tatsumi’s charm was working on him. If he gamed at night and made money, he could do something real and proper like with Tatsumi as a surprise

“Next time I want to take you. I don’t want charity or pity. I know I’m younger… but I’m going to work hard”

“You want a relationship where you give as much as you get?”

A relationship where they were equals. He couldn’t match Tatsumi’s life experience but he had years to catch up on make new memories. Maki nodded at Tatsumi’s words

“Yeah… I can’t change the gap between us but I don’t want you buying things like I’m a child”

“If you feel I’m spending too much, call me out. I don’t want you feeling bad and hiding it”

“As long as you get that I get mad myself”

“Oh, I know you do”

“Still, I wish Eve hadn’t kicked us out. I wanted to talk more about us”

“I know. I guess all we can do is keep at it. No public displays of affection on school grounds. You need to keep your grades up. No turning into horny messes on random sofas in the middle of the night”

Maki pouted, hip bumping Tatsumi playfully

“I liked that last one”

“I did too. I mean… it’s a long time since I did that with anyone. It’s been a long time since I liked anyone either. You need to tell me if you scent me, or you feel you’re going into a rut. I’ll do the same for you. And if I take you to Suzu, I expect you to trust me over it”

“Does that mean I can send you to Suzu too?”

“Mmm, but if it’s me, I won’t take you with me. I know it’s not fair, but I’m trying to take this seriously”

They had to be careful for now. At least until the competition was over and the pressure had eased off both of them. Still, he wanted to be there for Tatsumi too

“I get it. It’d be weird if I take you. Don’t think I won’t want a full report after”

“Maybe not a full report. Just the highlights”

“What are you trying to hide from me now?”

“I doubt if I go to her with the shits that you want to know the in-depth details”

Maki wrinkled his nose

“Yeah. No. You can keep that to yourself. I still can’t work out how sex can feel good when it hurts to do a big shit”

Tatsumi laughed, Maki pulled right up against him

“Don’t go thinking about it too hard. It’s not that bad, really”

Maybe he should do some research on himself now that he had boyfriend? He didn’t want to mess up when they finally ready

“Mhmm. Still, I don’t know where we stand at school”

“That’s because everything is still new. Part of me still feels like this was a bad idea, but part of me is stupidly excited. I feel like a kid all over again”

“It’d be nice if you didn’t say it was a bad idea”

“I just mean timing and all that. I hardly expected to go developing feelings for anyone at my age”

Maki huffed. With Tatsumi holding him it was hard to walk, but it was also comforting. His boyfriend said he hadn’t messed up with Eve, even if it felt that way. Now he was doing all he could to make sure Maki felt better and things would relax between them. If they hadn’t been in public, he’d have hugged his boyfriend back. He didn’t like that Tatsumi had doubts, yet he knew about those doubts since the lab and he knew how his own confidence had been shaken with the development of feelings for the guy who was basically on level with Li when it came to best friend status

“You’re not that old”

“Wait until you have three pilots under your command and tell me that again. You know, I’d forgotten Stella was a beta. I was double checking the room booking and saw. You’d never know for how much shit she gives you an Anthony”

Maki had forgotten too. Stella had the bite to be an alpha and with Anthony being an alpha, he’d labelled her that too

“That’s like you. I totally thought you were an alpha”

“It’s the height, isn’t it? I’m not sure my father wasn’t a giant”

Eve was relatively tall too… but she wasn’t Tatsumi tall. His own father was thin and not very muscular for being an alpha

“Mine’s my height… He’s not much to look at either. Was it weird not having a father?”

“A bit… then I found out he was piece of trash. It messed me up for sometime… but then I decided I couldn’t help what fathered me, I could only help myself by being the better person”

“That’s heavy”

“It took a long time. We can’t go back and change the past. And feeling guilty all the time is exhausting. I’m very lucky I got into Rage Fire and the military. It really helped straighten me out”

Maki felt a strong bond with Tatsumi’s words

“It was the same for me. My parents had my life calculated to the second and it was suffocating. Rage Fire was the best option, but I hate having left Mina behind”

“I can’t imagine it… if she ever needs any help, or you need to help her, I’ll do whatever I can for the both of you. It’s not my place to parent either of you, and your business is your own, but I do expect you to know I will be here and help if I can”

“I know… I mean, you didn’t know her and you were mad at me, but you still helped give her a good day and get her home safely when you didn’t have to”

“You’re both good people. And I know what it’s like to be considered outside the norm. I’m not going to pry on your family life because there’s a lot of things that aren’t easy to say. Especially when you’re considering how your words make other people feel”

“I know that too. But what do we do now? We don’t have to be back for a few more hours”

“If you don’t want to go anywhere fancy, we can go grab something to eat?”

He could probably afford a small meal… but he’d just agreed that he’d try to swallow his pride. Maki nodding

“Alright. This time’s on you, and next time’s on me?”

“Deal. You’re going to love Alma Tan, the food there is supposed to be amazing and it’s covered by the competition”

“All of it?”

“Yep. We get our own rooms with two to a room, a meeting room in the hotel we can use to breakdown the day, free meals… It’s going to be good”

“I’m going to have to fight you to keep you out of my mech, aren’t I?”

“Maybe. I promise to behave as much as I can”

Maki snorted happily. Tatsumi would be with him, cheering for him. He also knew Tatsumi would tell him the truth about how he performed in the arena

“Remember that”

“I will. What are you in the mood for?”

His mouth acted before his brain

“Kissing you?”

“I meant food wise, but I think a kiss can be arranged”

Stopping their walk, Tatsumi leaned down, kissing him softly. Maki only getting one kiss before his boyfriend was pulling him along. He’d have been happier with a half a dozen more when each kiss made him feel dumbly happy

“That’s not fair”

“I know. I’m in the mood for noodles”

“You can’t kiss me and decide we’re having noodles”

“Then what do you want?”

Now Tatsumi had suggested noodles, that was all Maki wanted

“Noodles?”

With a light snort, the omega kissed his hair

“Come on, you. Let’s go get you fed”

[bloodybreakupscene]

Can we get some Robin Arellano or/and Bruce Yamada fluff? It can be anything your heart desires, I just think your work is adorable and we always need more great writing <33

-> 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋!!

bruce yamada + robin arellano x reader

-> bruce and robin are trying to make advances towards you. . .at the same time.

-> (this isn't angst it's comedy i promise 😣😣)

-> OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH!! it's probably stupid but comments and inbox asks like these always make me so happy, i'm so glad that you like my writing!! ur so so so sweet and i really appreciate it <33 hearts for u 🫶🫶 also i haven't reread this yet so sorry if it's inaccurate or ooc 😞😞

"thanks, come again!" the florist said, waving at bruce as he walked out the door.

he held onto the bouquet of red chrysanthemums and walked towards his bike. he kicked up the kickstand and hopped onto the bike. he pedaled and pedaled until he was at the front of the school. it was february fourteenth and the school was decked out in different shades of pink and red. his plan was to give you these flowers and then watch as you fall for him as he did for you. he parked his bike in the bike rack and went to wait for you.

bruce heard the whispers of people talking about him, like; who were those for? i wonder who those are for, and i think there for ___, someone he didn't even know. he held a bright smile as he saw you finally walk into school, you were fidgeting with the straps on your backpack when you saw bruce approach you with some red flowers.

his face flushed red and he started to second guess himself, maybe he wasn't ready for this yet, "here, uh, i got you these, for valentine's day!"

"wait, really? this is so pretty, thank you so much!" you thanked, giving him a hug as the people walking passed you guys 'awed' and gossiped about you two.

bruce walked you to your class and you both talked about school, baseball, anything and everything you thought was interesting enough to make a conversation about.

"alright, well, bye bruce! i'll see you later." you waved and went to sit down in your seat.

you put the flowers in your bag and took out your notebook and algebra textbook. not having anyone sit next to you began to get to you because you started doodling on the bottom right corner of the off white paper. five minutes went by and the bell finally rung, interrupting your autopilot like state.

"hey, (y/n)." robin tapped on your shoulder, his hand lingering on your shoulder for a short second after.

"hi! what's up?" you smiled, robin reciprocating the gesture.

"mm', nothing. got in a fight the other day, but uh, nothing really interesting." he said, subtly trying to impress you by showing you his bloodied bandaged hands.

"aw, looks like it hurts. are you—." you were interrupted by the teacher finally starting the lesson, the screech of the chalk on the blackboard making you cringe slightly. while you searched through your backpack for a pencil, robin noticed the dark red flowers wedged between your textbooks and notebooks.

"who're the flowers from?" he asked, trying to sound as nonthreatening and not jealous as possible.

"huh? oh, they're from bruce, i don't know if you've heard about him." you responded, not looking at him and instead at the board and then your paper.

"yeah i have, he's alright." he shrugged, focusing on the window that showed the outside.

the period passed and all robin could really think about was you, and bruce i guess but he wasn't the main focus. he gave you flowers? just because it was valentine's day or whatever? robin could give you flowers everyday, but he's not lame, so he'll do something better for you. the bell rung which signaled the time for second period to start.

"bye robin!" you called, giving him a quick hug and walking towards your next period.

—

you and bruce decided to eat lunch together in the field outside of the school buildings. as you were eating your food, bruce asked you a question.

"um, i have a game this weekend, do you wanna come watch?"

"aw, i'm really sorry bruce but i'm busy that day." you responded, not trying to be specific about as to not be rude.

"oh, that's fine, don't be sorry. what are you doing?"

"i'm going to the movies with my friend robin, i'll definitely be able to go to your next game though!" you said, trying to cheer him up, noticing his shift in tone.

"haha, good then." he laughed. bruce heard of robin, he was sort of a delinquent, someone who fought and caused trouble if provoked. he couldn't possibly like you, not as much as he did at least. as you both sat in content silence, bruce thought of how violent robin was. i mean, he heard about the fight between him and that one dude a while ago. did you like him? did you like bad boys?

before dropping you off at your next class he wrapped his arms around you and held you for a few moments, you hugged him back and watched as he walked to his next class, probably a few minutes late due to the fact that your classes were on the opposite sides of the school, but it was worth it for you. see, he can be a bad boy if that's what your into, he thought.

bruce zoned out while in class as he finished his work early and didn't have anything else to do. jotting down random doodles in the corner of his worksheet. he sighed and looked around the room, focusing on random miniscule details throughout the classroom, the 'READ' poster falling off the wall, hanging on by one pin. the bookshelf filled with extra textbooks. he noticed the opening of the door and like the rest of the kids in the class he turned to look at who walked in.

robin walked into the classroom ten minutes later than the second bell, signaling the start of class. he walked in and ignored the short stares at him, except for bruce. he glared and the other and then sat down at his seat, opting to stare at the window instead of completing his work.

bruce rolled his eyes; who does this kid think he is, he thought.

—

robin knocked on your door with a rose in his left hand. he shifted from left to right awkwardly as he waited for you to open the door. to kill time, he thought of movies he think you’d like; halloween? nah, the plot sounds kinda lame, texas chainsaw massacre? that sounds more badass.

"robin? are you okay?" you asked, wondering why he was staring at the ground for so long. you walked out a few minutes after he knocked and were confused as to why he was looking at the floor.

"huh—? OH, (y/n), you ready?"

"yeah, let's go," you grabbed his hand, starting to walk to the movie theater together. he felt more confident in himself now, you both approached the ticket booth in front and ordered tickets to the new horror movie coming out, texas chainsaw massacre. the title put you off a bit but robin seemed excited to see it so you tried to shake your nerves away.

an hour and twenty-three minutes passed and you both exited the theater, your house wasn't far from here and so you both stopped by various shops on your way back. it was mostly you shopping as robin didn't feel like getting anything but wanted to stay for you. as you were walking past a small ballpark you noticed a game was going on. squinting to get a better focus on who was at home base.

"it's bruce! maybe we can find some seats?"

"i don't know (y/n), aren't we late or something?"

"yeah a little, but your friend finney's there too."

"ugh, fine we can go." he rolled his eyes and you both walked to the fence where you could look into the game clearly, much clearer than the bleachers in your opinion. robin crossed his arms as he watched bruce play, praying that he trips or falls and makes an idiot out of himself.

as bruce missed the second ball he looked around, and saw you. oh god, i'm gonna fail; he thought. gaining his courage yet again, he was able to hit the ball, and got a home run. it was worth it when he was able to focus on your cheer amongst the crowd. his chest filled with pride as he walked over to you and, oh, robin.

"hey!! you did amazing out there! i do feel bad for missing most of your game though." you complimented, not paying attention to the weird look robin was giving bruce.

"thank you! it's honestly not a big deal. i'm glad you showed up anyway." he smiled, admiring your facial features, ignoring robin completely.

"yeah you did fine, let's go." robin said, wanting to leave this stuffy baseball field already. he held onto your arm and gripped your bicep gently.

"oh are you guys on a date or. . . ?" bruce questioned, a hint of jealousy in his tone.

"oh no, we're just hanging out, but we should get going soon, i'll see you tomorrow." you gave him a hug, holding him dearly.

"yeah, i'll see you tomorrow." he waved as you walked away, red blush all over his face. he tried to ignore the 'ooo's from his teammates but failed as he got even more red and giggly at the memory of you hugging him. the moment was so perfect he almost forgot robin was there, which made it even better. robin got to witness you hugging him. bruce biked home that day and passed a record store, maybe he could take you there tomorrow.

[oh-katsuki]

Don’t Tell (Armin x Reader)

Pairing: Armin x Reader

Content: professor!armin, smut, overstimulation, dub con, power dynamics, semi-public sex (classroom), oral (m receiving), sub!armin

TW: dub con, overstimulation, professor!armin, sub!armin

Word Count: 2.4k

A/n: subby armin? yeth. Archive Fic

Your ocean science professor, Professor Arlert, always drove you crazy. There was just something about him that had you clenching your thighs. He was so proper, so quiet, and so unassuming, god you would do anything to take a bite out of him. You watched as his slender fingers traced across his keyboard, wrapping up his lecture with his standard dismissal, his blue eyes meeting your own as you sat to the left side of the lecture hall. Armin’s face flushed red as he darted his eyes back down to his computer upon meeting your gaze, and you fought back a smile at the way he seemed to try to disappear into his blue sweater.

The lecture hall cleared out, scores of students leaving the room to get to their next class or simply go back home, but you lingered behind, only starting to pack up your things when the room had become slightly empty. You took your time placing your things away, the air between you and Armin growing thicker as time passed. Making your way down the lecture hall steps, you approached the lectern, Armin attempting to avoid looking at you until you cleared your throat.

“Professor?” You spoke, looking up at him and stepping a little closer than you needed to be.

His face turned a soft pink as he turned his head down to look at you. “Yes, _____?” You could hear the slight shake in his voice as you smirked up at him, taking another step closer.

God, you could do this all day just to drink in the way he reacted to you. It was precious, and the thought of what he would look like under you had arousal building in your core.

“Do you think that if- “ Your sentence was interrupted, Armin jumping back from you as the next lecturer entered the room.

“Ah, Professor Arlert, my apologies! I thought your class would have cleared out by now.” They spoke, their attitude upbeat.

“Professor Hange, I was just about to leave. ____ just had a question for me.” He hesitated, his voice catching. “What was it that you needed?” You could see the remnants of a blush on his cheeks as he made eye contact with you. It was cute how he was trying to keep his composure, cute how he was pretending that your proximity to him didn’t have him hard in his pants.

“Ah, nothing. I’ll come back for your office hours.” You chuckled, waving your hand. “Make sure you save me a spot okay? I’ve got a lot to ask.” Your gaze lingered on him for a second before you turned to Professor Hange. “Nice to meet you.”

—–

Armin knew he shouldn’t be looking at you like that. He knew that as a professor, he had to be professional, you were a student after all, just trying to get your education. Still, he found himself antsy at the idea of spending time alone with you, even if it simply was to go over course material. He’d even gone so far as to tell other students that his appointments were booked for the day, just in case you wanted to spend more time in this cramped meeting room.

However, his worst transgression in his mind was the way he’d groomed for you. The way he’d trimmed himself and showered before his office hours began because there was some part of him that hoped your real reason for coming was far more sinful. What he didn’t realize was just how correct he was.

“Professor?” You rapped gently three times on the ajar door to his office, pushing the door open slightly to peek in.

“____, come in.” His gaze found yours, motioning to the array of chairs in front of him.

You smiled sweetly at him, walking over to the chair beside him and taking a seat. His eyes widened at your choice, breath hitching as you scooched it closer to him. “How are you today?” you asked, leaning your cheek on your hand.

“I’m good, ___. And you?” He was being formal, his back straight as he pretended to occupy himself with organizing his papers, pretending he couldn’t see the way your eyes hungrily scanned over his figure.

“Better now.” You piped up, flashing your teeth at him and crossing one leg over the other.

That skirt you were wearing had him drooling at the way your thighs squished against each other and he was finding it difficult to keep his eyes off of you and the curves of your body. His gaze wasn’t lost on you of course, and you only became more aggressive in your advancements, however, each time Armin would pull himself back, attempting to gain some semblance of professionality.

The two of you continued like this for a while, a dance between two people who knew exactly what they wanted, one being too afraid to take it. The tipping point was when you put your hand on his thigh, ghosting it upwards and squeezing slightly.

“Professor, I still don’t understand.” You frowned at him, hand squeezing the meaty flesh of his thigh and eyes drifting down to where his cock now strained at his jeans. Your mouth fell open into a gentle o, meeting his eyes.

“I- I think it’s best if-” You cut him off, hand moving over his bulge as you moved your lips close to his, so they ghosted against him as you spoke.

“It’s okay.” You looked at him for a second, the way the blush rushed to his pretty cheeks, or the way his lips trembled against yours.

Fuck he was so innocent, such a goody goody. A proper and respected professor that you now had stuttering before your eyes. You wanted to ruin him. You loved the way his cock started to twitch under your hand as you kneeled between his legs, undoing the buckle on his belt while the pretty blonde stared at you, a prominent blush on his cheeks and his eyebrows furrowed in mock resistance. He was so hard by the time you’d gotten him in your hand, a bead of pre-cum gathering at the top. You wiped your thumb across it, Armin’s head falling back against the chair.

“We shouldn’t…” He spoke, his voice trailing off at the way your eyes looked as you gave the head of his cock a kitten lick.

“Think of it as a thank you.” You spoke, licking a broad stripe up the side of him. “You’re just such a good teacher.” Your other hand came to graze his balls. “So pretty too… such a pretty voice and such a pretty cock.”

The praise went right to his head and as if he couldn’t be more consumed by you, you took him in your mouth and the prettiest moan escaped his lips. You felt so warm around him, your cheeks hollowed out and your tongue pressing against the underside of his head. He tasted salty but clean, and you couldn’t get enough of the way the smooth skin of his cock felt against your tongue. His reactions were just too precious, the stutters that came from his mouth as he tried to will himself to stop you, and the way he fought the instinct to bring his hand to your hair.

“Huh, I could-” He groaned. “I could lose my- fuuuuck.” Armin’s mouth fell open when you sucked on the head of his cock, your tongue swirling around as your hands pumped what you weren’t taking. His moan went right to your pussy, arousal pooling in your panties.

“Our little secret.” You mumbled, taking him fully down your throat. You lifted your eyes to look at him, to take in his expression. His mouth was hung open, hands clutching either side of the chair beside him, and his face was bright pink as pretty whimpers fell from his lips. “You wanna fuck me?” Armin fell silent, his bottom lip trembling. He looked so different from how he normally did. Usually he was so put together, but right now he looked messy, his hair was messed up and the collar of his button down was open and out of place. This was the reaction you were looking for, the one that had you shifting on your knees to relieve the tension building in your core.

“You’ve got to say it if you want it.”

“Yes, please.” He spoke, flinching slightly as your tongue swiped over the tip of his cock. You stopped pumping him and he whimpered at the loss of contact.

“Please what?”

“Please let me fuck you.” He whined, eyebrows knit together.

You smirked, standing up and sitting on his lap, guiding his hand to your clothed cunt. You rubbed his delicate fingers over your clit. Armin could feel the wet spot, his whines becoming more pronounced as he realized that he’d been the one to get you so worked up.

“See what you did to me, professor.” You mumbled, your voice catching slightly as his fingers grazed your clit.

The words had his cock throbbing beneath you, his eyes shooting up to meet yours as he realized how desperate you were for him. Fucking you had been a fantasy for him, he’d stayed up late in his office, fucking his fist to the thought of how you’d look being stuffed full of him. He never thought he’d get to see you like this, grinding down onto his hand. Armin’s last semblance of professionalism was leaving him as he admired the way your hips ground against him, he wanted to give in, to let you fuck him, let you have him.

“Please.” You spoke breathily, your gaze meeting his. That was it, any chance Armin had at fighting back was now gone with one simple word from you and he pulled your panties to the side and pushed a finger into your heat.

Armin curled his finger a few times, hitting that spot inside of you and watching the way your eyebrows furrowed together at how he felt inside of you. He wasn’t working towards a goal, just experimenting with the way you whined and whimpered above him. Your eyes never left his as he pulled his finger from you and brought it to his lips, tasting you.

“I taste good?” You asked, raising an eyebrow as you reached down for him, rubbing the head of his cock through your slick.

Armin nodded fervently, moaning slightly as he made sure to get all of you off of his fingers. He couldn’t focus, his mind was hazy and completely clouded with thoughts of you. Fuck he wanted to be inside of you and the “let me” that slipped through his lips in his delirium had your legs starting to shake with anticipation.

You lowered yourself onto him, exhaling heavily as he filled you up, his cock stretching you open. Armin bottomed out with a whimper, his head rolling back against the chair in which he sat. Your legs straddled either side of him, and his hands came up to find your waist, running them over the dips in your hips. He’d wanted this for so long and whenever the thought crossed his mind that “holy fuck, they’re here and I’ve got my hands under their bunched up skirt and they’re looking at me that way”, his dick twitched with anticipation inside you.

With his hesitation gone, Armin started to roll his hips against yours as you rode him, bouncing up and down on him in a circular motion. You took his hands from your waist, bringing them to cup your tits and squeezing slightly. His cheeks flushed red, eyes widening as you brought his hands under your shirt to squeeze the supple flesh. You’d decided against wearing a bra, and that fact didn’t go unnoticed as Armin’s fingers pinched at your nipples, earning him a small moan.

He continued to roll his hips against yours, your lips moving to kiss his neck. Your professor’s whimpers and moans only served to bring you closer as your hips moved up and down over him with more fervor. He tilted his head to the side to give you easier access, his breath picking up.

“Fuck, feels good.” He whimpered into the hair by your ear.

“Yeah?” You breathed against him, rolling your hips. “Y’gonna cum, professor? For me?” You asked as he began to quickly unravel beneath you.

“Y-mhm.” Armin spoke, giving you no warning as he came into you, his hips snapping up abruptly into your g-spot as he rode out his orgasm.

His thrusts began to slow, but you took his jaw in your hand, bringing his attention to you. “I’m not finished yet.” You breathed, picking up your pace against him and rutting your hips forward so the head of his cock hit the spot in you that had your eyes rolling back.

You felt so full and each drag of his cock along your walls had you clenching around him. You brought your lips to his, licking into his mouth as he trembled beneath you, the overstimulation becoming too much. You leaned back, your back forming a pretty little arching as you began to rub your clit, meeting his gaze.

“Professor, do this for me.” You took his shaking hand, unsteady from the overstimulation. “I know you can.” Slowly, you began to use his hand to rub slow circles into your clit, a moan pushing past your lips.

Armin began to moan and whimper, his fingers shaking against your heat as you ground down against him. Your breath left you in shaky whimpers as your eyes found his. You could feel him twitch within you and you whined against his lips.

“Gonna cum again for me, sir?” You asked, earning another nod from Armin, pulling away to steal a peek at his face as he came again, a dry orgasm wracking through his body.

He fell forward, his free hand coming up to grab at anything as euphoria took over him.

“Fuu-uck.” He whined.

His little voice and flushed face as you fucked him through his orgasm threw you over the edge, your body shaking on top of his as your walls clenched around his sensitive cock.

The two of you sat there for a moment, bodies against each other as Armin gently grabbed at you in an attempt to ground himself. You stood up from his lap, adjusting your panties so they rested back over your cunt, stuffed full of his cum.

Your professor sat back in the chair, dumb founded, before tucking himself back into his pants, raking a hand through his hair.

“____? We- uhm I-” He stuttered as you packed your things up, watching the way you wiggled in your skirt, knowing that only minutes earlier you’d been cooing him through an orgasm.  

“Don’t worry professor, I won’t tell if you won’t.”

[getouswh0re]

pairing: clan head megumi x reader

genre: yandere, power impact, manipulation, unhealthy relationships, friends to lovers turned wrong, slight manga spoilers

synopsis: you’ve learnt not to test megumi’s limits, especially when he becomes the head of the zenin clan

****************************************************

With the two of you raised by none other than Gojo Satoru himself, Fushiguro Megumi and you have been extremely close throughout the years; despite not being related by blood, he would still treat you dearly, making sure that harm wouldn’t come your way.

While you appreciate everything he has done, at times warning bells would set off in your head whenever Megumi is being way too overbearing; you know for a fact that he cares about you, but your conscience reminds you that however nice his intentions could be, there are certain boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed. 

The number of occurrences when he trails after you is already uncountable on its own, not to mention how he questions everything you do even though it’s technically none of his business. You’ve tried to hint at him that his actions are a bit too much at times, hoping the young man would respect your privacy and personal life. 

He apologises profusely afterwards, promising he would tone it down. But of course, with his tenacious personality, Megumi will not give up. Not when it’s someone he considers his lover a pseudo-family member. 

He could hear his heart shattering the moment you shyly tell him that he could be a bit too much sometimes, such words being way beyond what he could handle. Do you not love him? How could you do that to him, when he offers you his heart and soul? The world is a dangerous place, especially with curses and how his sister ending up bedridden because of a curse. It is justifiable that he protects you with whatever means possible, right?

As the two of you grow up, the relationship dynamics shift. You have lost count of how many times you have turned a blind eye to his advances and subtle hints on how the two of you would’ve been a wonderful couple. It is not like you hate him; Megumi is truly a wonderful person of good morals, complemented with his good looks, he is one that would be sought after by the ladies. 

Nonetheless, the raven doesn’t even spare a second to bat an eyelash at the ogling stares every time he is on the streets, ignoring whispers of admiration that ring in is ears incessantly. After all, he only has eyes for you only. 

So it is devastating when you reject his confession on a certain day, telling him that while the two of you may be close, perhaps it would be better off if your relationship stays this way, that you and him aren’t the one for each other when it comes to love. 

He tries to numb the pain; yet no matter what he does, the void in his chest would invariably be there, reminding him of the brutal rejection. 

For once Megumi’s walls finally crumples to dust and releases all of his bottled-up emotions by crying until his throat is sore and his eyes puffy. You are all that he has apart from Tsumiki, he can’t just let you go, not when you are just within arm’s reach. 

And the mentality finally hits the raven hard: if he couldn’t have you, then nobody else can. 

The two of you remain close, but unknowingly, Megumi starts to manipulate people in your life. With his intelligence and connections (courtesy of Gojo), having you all to himself is simply a matter of time.

Eventually, your friends distance themselves away from you, and your employers from your part-time jobs fire you out of no reason; not knowing what is with their abrupt hostility and the unexpected plummet towards rock bottom in life, you find yourself crying into Megumi’s chest in the early hours of morning, venting about how nobody wants you and life is a bitch. 

Being the only one you could rely on at this point, he puts on his act perfectly, comforting you with hugs and soothing words of comfort, reminding you that no matter how difficult circumstances could be, you could always depend on him no matter what. 

Perhaps you are wrong after all, a thought crosses your mind; perhaps Megumi really is the right one for you. Of all the people you know, he is the only one remaining by your side, being your anchor through highs and lows. What more could you ask from his unconditional kindness? 

And so the raven’s dreams finally come true as you confront him tearfully, telling him how you’ve realised he is the one for you, accepting his confession again. 

Megumi struggles with his emotions, but he would always do his best to make you smile. Playing all the cards of a romantic boyfriend, the sorcerer pulls you closer and closer, like a spider luring its prey into the web. He is the only one who could make you swoon, whom you would have a family and grow old with together, who is your soulmate. For a long while the relationship is stable as ever, but a crack starts to form after a certain incident. 

Ever since your boyfriend becomes the Zenin clan head, matters take a bad turn for you, and it would only be a matter of time until you unveil Megumi’s true colours. 

It all starts with your promotion towards a grade 1 sorcerer. You have been looking forward to this opportunity for years since it would help the two of you to sustain a living. You know Megumi has acquired a large sum of money ever since he becomes the leader of the clan, and life would be lavish for both of you. Still, you prefer to earn through your own blood and sweat, much to the raven’s displeasure. That’s why you keep insisting on taking the mission that would impact your promotion towards a higher rank. 

However, your promotion has been revoked at the last minute without proper reasoning; and after doing some digging, you are beyond enraged when you find out the one who caused all of this is none other than Fushiguro Megumi himself, thus leading to the first huge fight between the two of you. 

“Megumi. What the fuck? I just want to get promoted to a higher rank because it would make life easier for the two of us! What about living expenses and the bills we need to pay? I’m not going to sit still and spend your family money!” 

“Why can’t you just rely on me, love? I’ve done so much so that both of us could have a better off life than before. Now that I have in command of the clan and the money on my hands, what is the need for you to work and potentially hurt yourself? Are you trying to hurt me again?” 

Obviously, tension remain rigid between you and him. But it only takes a word from you that drives Megumi over the brink of sanity. 

“We need a break, perhaps you and me really aren’t right for each other.”

He is not going to let the same thing happen twice, is he?

So when you find yourself denied of any promotion and struggling to find other side jobs to sustain your own living after moving out of your shared apartment, you know for a fact that the raven has been pulling the strings behind the scene again, forcing you to come to the realisation that you would never survive in the world unless you go back to his side. 

Begrudgingly, to Megumi’s delight, you finally return to the home you once shared with him after six months. 

In time, as a glimmering platinum band sits snugly on your ring finger and Megumi’s calloused fingers lovingly caress your growing belly bump, you are ascertained that your fate would be sealed forever. 

[checkingoutforheroes]

B.A.B.Y PROTOCOL.

Part 1.

Avengers x fem!reader

Pt. 2

Genre: Minor angst, more fluff.

Warning: Language! (cursing here & there)

Words: 1746

Synopsis: This takes place in Avengers: Age of Ultron. When The Avengers were at the rock bottom, Nick Fury and advised by Maria Hill, to initiate the B.A.B.Y Protocol. 

Main MASTERLIST

The Avengers gather in the lab after one of an ugly half made robot command a few of the Legionaries to attack them. Currently they are finding out about what or who attacked them. Some of them cleaning their wounds and Thor going out to track the Legionaries. Bruce the only one who starts first. “All of our work is gone. Ultron cleared out every research that we do. He uses internet as an escape route.” Natasha turns and lean her body to a table to say what she’s found. “He’s been in everything. Fails, surveillances. Probably know about us more than we know about each other.”

Holding his right wounded arm, Rhody said “He’s in the internet, he’s in your files. What if he decides to access to something a little more exciting?” By that, Maria has thought something. “Nuclear code.” Natasha looking at them “Nukes? He said he wanted us dead.” Steve interrupt her “He didn’t say dead. He said extinct.” “He said he killed somebody.” Clint said but Maria ask back. “But no one else in the building.” Their conversations cut by Tony. “Yes there was.” He displays JARVIS damaged simulator form and all went silent except Bruce, he checks on JARVIS.

Thor come in angry and straight to choke Tony. Being choke, Tony try talk to Thor “Come one. Use your words buddy.” Thor lift him up a few inch above the floor. “I have more than enough words with you Stark.” Steve walks closer, breaking them. “Thor. The Legionaries?” Thor update them about the Legionaries have the scepter and they have to retrieve it again. For the first time after the attack, Dr. Chow speaks. “You build this program. Why he’s trying to kill us?” Tony just laugh at that question and Bruce disagree. “Tony, this might not be the time to-“ Tony cut his sentences. “Really?! Bruce. We didn’t create a murder bot. Remember New York?” Everyone move their head down facing the floor remembering that event and Tony continue. “A hostile army of aliens charging through a hole in space. We’re standing 300 feet below it. We’re The Avengers. We can bust arms dealer all day but that up there, that’s, that’s the endgame. How do you guys planning on beating that?” Steve looking at him “Together.” “We’ll lose.” Tony say and Steve still with his answer “And we’ll do that together too.” He looks at everyone and gives the order. “Thor’s right. Ultron trying to draw us out. We start tonight. Do whatever you can to find him. The world is a big place, make it smaller.” Maria stand from her chair. “I’ll escort Dr. Chow to airport. I’ll see you guys in the afternoon.” They all nods and both of them walks out of the lab.

 Next morning.

A young girl wearing her café’s uniform walking with a headphone on her head. While walking, she notices a guy snatches a bag from a lady. That lady screaming asking for help while her baby crying to see her mother in terror from across the street. You bring down your headphone and chase that guy. Thanks for your training, you almost keep up that guy until he stuck in an ally, nowhere to go.

“You wanna give me the bag or I’ll take it from you?” You said. Looks like he’s stuck.

“Fast legs.” He said.

“I had trained before.”

“I’m not a bad guy.”

             “Well, good guys don’t snatch a bag from people especially in front of their baby! You gave me the wrong impression though. Now, give me the bag and go.”

             “I’d like to see you take it.” “You asked for it dude.” You move forward and fight him hand to hand combat. Actually, you are a bit surprise by his technique. He’s not so bad but you have been train by a professional back in the academy.

You’ve been caught one day and some guy wear uniform took you somewhere. You thought it was a juvenile school because you are just 15 that time. Turns out it was S.H.I.E.L.D. They gave you test by test and found out that you good at combat and a little bit good at common sense. After you graduated, work job by job. Gang to gang. Mob to mob. You can’t do that kind of job anymore. You want to be good and yes, you did stop working with the dark. You washed your hands and works at Donut Do It. It’s not your vibe but it is fine for your fresh start. After you slap that guy, you hear a woman voice call your name that has been long unspoken by anyone including you.

 “Baby.” A woman called.

             “Normal people doesn’t know that name.” You said while choking that guy.

She said “Maybe because you’re not a normal girl.”

             “What do you want Maria?” You ask that woman.

You immediately know who he is. Fury. “Oh God, not you too. Okay, for the record, honestly, I haven’t commit any crime that violated the laws.”

“You.” A deep voice man said.

You can hear Maria smirk when she asks you “Are you sure about that?” “…today. You didn’t let me finish. I didn’t commit any crime, today.” You said. Fury tell you to let that guy go and you look at that guy “You’re with them?” He tries to answer even you’re still choking him. “Y.. YE.. Yes!” You release him and slap him real hard right across his face. “That’s for wasting my time. Fuck off.”

Fury look disbelievingly at you. “Was that necessary?” You look back at him “What? Caressing lightly on his soft cheek?” Maria interject “That’s the opposite of what you did.” You try again just to tease her. “Okay. I, tap his soft cheek?” Maria raise an eyebrow at you “Try again.” You surrender. “Fine. I just 180-degree angle slapped him. He’s a trained agent for God sake. He’ll be fine.” You turn around about to walk back to your work place and Fury stop you.

“And where do you think you’re going young lady?” He asks you.

             You turning back. “ Work. Turns out I have a job now papa bear. Thanks for the recommendation letter though. Now, will you excuse me, I have go to work. Hope to never see you two again. Babai.” Again, Fury stops you. “You are not going to that Donut Do It.” You tilt your head to him. “I told you I work there and I’m going. If you two want donut, you know where to find it. Mention my name and you’ll get 30% discounts.” Maria’s face changes when she talks this time. “This is serious and urgent, Baby.”

“We are gathering as many as best agents that we have, and you are one of the best, Baby. Come with us and we’ll brief you.” Fury said and you stop him from saying any further. “Look, I’m gonna stop you right here papa Bear. That is where you are wrong. Aren’t you guys seen my record? I know what good is but I’m far away from good. There is still red blood stain painted on my hands that I could never leave. Even if I wash it thousands time, it won’t come off. What makes you think I’ll do it?” You feel your left chest aching but you ignore it.

Maria answers you. “Because everyone deserves a chance to be and do good. To start over. Yes, you can’t wash that much blood on our hands but this is the chance for you to do something good in your life. A do-over. You actually do something good after the academy. Take out those mobsters down, those gangs. You went inside to get the intel and you burn them to the ground and made those cities safe. Then, you just proof us again just now by caught that robber.”

             You huff and look down on your feet. “You set that up.”

Maria look at you. “But you didn’t know that. Yes, Baby. We’ve seen your record. Detail. You are far away from where you are before the academy. Or after. I mean you did killed people.” You crunch your eyebrows at her “Hey!” Fury turn to talk. “Help us this time. After that, it’s all up to you. We are no longer bugging you. You are no longer in our record. I’m not wasting my time coming here if we don’t need you.” “I thought you miss me.” Fury huff and talk to Maria “I’ll wait in the car.”

             “He never begging. That kind of begging, what he did. Is it that bad?” I ask Maria and she nod with worry face. “Earth level threat. That’s all I can say right now. Come with us to tower and we tell you more.” You let out a long sigh. “Me? Out of all agents, me?” Maria walk closer to you. “Please Baby.” You’re now messing with her. “It Earth level threat and you want a baby to involve? What kind of adult are you? Put a cute baby in danger like that. Unbelievable.” She smiles more than earlier. “The kind of person that will make sure there will be chicken drumets and spaghetti carbonara every day for your meal.”  You silently look at her and playfully sigh and she knows you better. “Caramel pudding and fluffy pillow too.” The ache in your chest getting hard to ignore now. You ask Maria some time and turn back from her. You bending, breathing like your doctor teach you and massage your chest a little. Must be from running earlier.

“Hey, are you okay?” Maria ask, worry if you are sick, but yes you are sick.

             “Yeah. Just shock. Did you say fluffy pillow? You ask her, not wanting to let her know first. They need your help, that’s what you are going to do. Help as much as you can. She let out a giggles and wrap her arm around your neck. “Yeah, you are coming with us, like it or not.” You both walk toward their car where Fury is waiting. “How many pillow though?”

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Thank you for spending your time reading this. Feel free to reblog or ask me anything, thank you in advance!

Part 2 is coming!!