#and others annoying and inconvenient as i have put them off too long

[peekawoocc]

LAW X READER

CW - 18+, smut, really long fanfiction. Lots of words, went too big brain mode on this.

P.s. I noted the sections where smut was in case you just wanted the juicy parts (relatable). Also, I tried to stay with plot similar to the show, so spoiler warnings if you haven't started Wano yet. I literally just started it.

This was really fun to write and definitely was a full day hobby project because I have no self control or concept of taking breaks 🙃

Pretenses - You're a straw hat, and while you're not as strong as the monster trio, you can definitely hold your own and then some if nessacary.

Cockblocked in Wano

You had just arrived in Wano with Nami and the others. Finally, ready to be reunited with everyone, and secretly excited to see Law again.

After running into Luffy, you all made your way into the old ruins to gather an update from Kinemon. After being caught up, Kinemon began giving instruction to everyone about their role. You were the last to receive your instructions.

You were excited to find out what you could contribute to help everyone. Instead, you felt as if your eyes were going to pop out from how wide they became, in complete shock. T-there's no way, you told yourself.

Everyone continued on with doing as Kinemon said so he could provide the proper outfits for each role. You didn't even seem to notice your clothes become a blue floral kimono and your hair now in a bun being held by a beautiful hair pin. You were kind of dissapointed you didn't have a more important task, but the shock was still there. As you came back to reality, it seemed like everyone was already trying to head outside, until you spoke up.

"Wait, why don't I have my own role?"

"My apologies, y/n, I did not have another role in mind. I felt it was best to put you with someone to provide assistance in gathering the nessacary troops," Kinemon answered.

Law came back into the ruins to fetch you, making everything set in completely. I have to be with Law for a whole 2 weeks and pretend to be his wife!?! Noticing the blush spread across your face as you were drowning in your own thoughts, Law caught your focus with a sigh.

"If you don't want to, that's fine, I'm sure you'd rather be partnered with one of your own crewmates," he said, sounding a bit annoyed at the inconvenience.

"N-no, it's fine. Plus, I know you won't bring me more trouble than I bargained for. You think things through so I know I can rely on you if anything happens,". You wanted to say more, but seeing Laws lips turn into a slight smirk you thought it better to just stop talking. It was true though. As much as you appreciated the spontaneous nature of your captain and fellow crewmates, you felt most confident when you had more details and facts to rely on. Knowing your enemy and even your environment can help end a fight more quickly and more efficiently. Or maybe, just maybe, you had anxiety. Which is also perfectly understandable.

"Then shall we be off...y/n?" Law said after finally coming up with a fake name for you.

"Definitely!" You said with appreciation for his thoughtfulness. You had a feeling he was always going to be a few steps ahead of you, as per usual. You both followed the others outside.

And then everything went to hell in a hand basket.

You all started to notice something flying, fast. The huge mass had a very commanding presence.

Yep, that's Kaido.

*time skip to after Luffy and Law dissappear after Kaido*

You had no idea where your partner in crime was, nor your captain. You knew Luffy could hold his own, it was Law you weren't sure about. Rather than go hunting for them, you all decided to go into your roles. Not really sure where to go, you decided to follow Sanji, knowing he wouldn't find you to be a burden. It wasn't that you couldn't hold your own, you were actually quite powerful. However, your task was simply to assist with passing out flyers to future fellow fighters, so you followed the cook in putting up a soba stall.

"I'm so glad I get to spend some alone time with you, y/n~," Sanji said with hearts for eyes.

"Yeah, I guess it's more efficient than trying to hunt down Law right now," you said, not being able to hide the dissapointment in your voice. Sanji noticed the worry on your face, even if he was a little jealous of your attention being focused on another man, he was still your friend and wanted to be there for you.

"You sure you're ok with this?" He asked, trying to help shoulder your troubles.

"Yeah, I just hope he's ok. Not that he's not powerful. Anyway, let's get to work!" You said, deciding to distract yourself with the task at hand.

*time skip to Law showing up*

It had become dark now, and you sat down next to the stall as Sanji began cleaning up from the hard day of cooking he just had. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned your head towards over your shoulder and looked up.

"So there's my partner, was wondering where you went," he said with a smirk, but you could see the exhaustion in his eyes.

"That should be my line!" You giggle as relief washes over your face.

"No time to chat, we've gotta go. Sanji, they're looking for you," Law suddenly became extremely serious.

"Who is?" Sanji asked.

"Kaidos men, we'll walk and talk," Law answered.

As you all moved together, you ran into Usopp and Franky. Law filled them in on the details and became interrupted as you saw a building get thrown into the air.

*time skip to when they get to Ebisu town, where Zoro supposedly was*

As you all sat together in the tiny home, you had a huge grin on your face. Who would've thought that the man next to you, who was so intelligent and strict, was also a huge nerd? You began to giggle thinking back to how excited Law was about Sanji's germa raid suit. Thinking about how Law was completely nerding out like a fan boy with a deadpan expression on his face started to make you giggle more. Law noticed how you began to hold your stomach from how hard you were laughing, and he began to raise an eyebrow at you.

"Whats got you giggling so much, sister?" Franky asked, matching Law's confusion.

"I was just thinking about how Law knew so much about the Sora Comics," you began giggling hysterically again, Franky and Usopp joining in your amusement.

Law instantly became flustered.

"I TOLD YOU ALREADY, THEY WERE POPULAR IN THE NORTH BLUE! EVERYONE WAS READING THEM!"

"I know, I know. It's just really cute when you nerd out like that. Plus, it's good to know I wasn't the only one who hated germa in the comics,".

Law started malfunctioning when you called his nerdiness "cute". With his whole face red he got up and stormed out of the house, making the excuse of needing fresh air. You gave him 3 minutes before you decided to follow his lead.

*sexy build up*

He was sitting, legs crossed, upon a freshly dusted off mat on the ground. You walked up behind him and placed your hand on his shoulder as you sat down beside him. With his eyes closed and brows furrowed, it looked like there was still a blush across his cheeks but you couldn't tell with it being so dark out.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you, but you really were cute. I'm also glad to know we share a similar interest," you said cheerfully, trying to bring the mood back up. Cute. There it was again. He looked like he wanted to say something, then began stammering until he just gave up and sighed. Finally opening his eyes, he just stared straight ahead as if he was trying to puzzle his thoughts together.

"It makes me happy to get the opportunity to know more about you. Really makes the mysterious, cunning Surgeon of Death even more attractive than you already were," you brought a hand to your mouth, shocking both you and Law at the realization of what you had just said. Then his face began to soften as he turned his gaze to you. He ended up letting out a small chuckle at seeing you sitting there as if still frozen with shock. The sound of the low chuckle broke you out of your trance and you began to relax, thankful that he didn't look at you with disgust after finding out your true thoughts of him.

"Attractive, huh?" He said in a knowing tone, a smirk on his face as you started tripping over your words.

"U-uh...um...yeah,"

"Likewise,"

"Wait, huh?"

"You're pretty attractive as well," he looked away for a moment before looking back at you.

"I thought so when we first met, but didn't think much of it. After getting to know you in Dressrosa, the feeling grew. What about you?" He asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, it's the same with me. At first I thought you seemed kinda scary back in Sabaody,".

Locking eyes with you now, it seemed like he was asking for permission for something. Noticing the puzzling expression he had, you felt the need to reassure him with a smile. However, you still felt the need to properly explain yourself.

"I-i mean, I don't find you scary anymore. Actually, thinking back, I think it was more of a feeling of intimidation. I wasn't that strong back then either, so the thought of ever having to hold my own against you was a bit anxiety inducing-,".

Before you could keep rambling, he cut you off with a soft kiss. It wasn't that long, but it felt like time had stopped and nothing in the world mattered but him. Your mind completely blank, you felt the tension in your shoulders release and the dull ache of pain that came with it. It seems you had been on edge the whole time, which looking back isn't all that surprising considering the bottled up feelings you had for him. No one knew, because you were too scared to tell anyone. Especially since you weren't sure in the beginning, but now, you're more sure of this than anything else.

As he pulled away, seemingly reluctantly, he locked eyes with you again and happily matched your smile with his own signature smirk but there was something new that you'd never seen before. There was a light in his eyes. You only saw them light up with anger in the heat of battle. This was the first time you felt that you were witnessing Law looking truly happy. Any of the questions bubbling up in your head about What are we? or Am I going to be a Heart Pirate now? were suddenly pushed aside with the new details you were taking note of while looking at his handsome face.

"That was amazing," you said dreamily, you wanted to slap yourself out of embarrassment with how hypnotized you knew you had looked.

"We should do it again sometime," he said with a flirty tone.

You instantly pressed your Thighs together. They weren't that open, but the sexiness of his voice was doing things to you below the waist. Suddenly, you were feeling a bit brave.

*sexy time ensues*

"How about...now?" You asked shyly, expecting him to refuse. He looked at you for a moment as you watched as his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed, hard. He leaned back into you, just barely away from your lips, awaiting for your physical invitation. As you leaned in closer, the kiss had started again. It started slow and became more needy and feverish. He licked your top lip, asking to deepen the kiss, and you allowed it. You then wrapped your arms around his shoulders, lifting yourself up to sit in his lap. You pressed your chest against his, causing him to lean back on one of his arms, which made his hat fall off as he tilted his head back. He broke the kiss, both of you panting for air as you looked into eachothers eyes. His expression hungry and predatory now. You started trailing your eyes down his face to his neck and they stayed there as you subconsciously bit your bottom lip. You decided to stop wasting time looking and decided to give in to your desire as your lips met the side of his neck. Kissing his neck until you found a comfortable spot to sit for a moment as you lightly sucked and bit the spot. You weren't there for more than a few moments, thinking it wouldn't be a good idea to mark him no matter how badly you wanted to. He sucked in his breath, head falling back more as you went a little lower to his collarbone. You kissed and sucked at the defined bone structure until you heard a hushed groan.

"There, you can leave a mark there,".

It was as if he had known what you were wanting to do to him. You hovered for a moment, admiring the rise and fall of his chest in the moonlight. As much as you'd like to see more of his exposed skin, you'd have to settle for the portion of his chest that was seeable thanks to his sluttily open kimono. Law let out a frustrated groan as he became impatient, having no idea that you were actually admiring him, he grabbed a handful of your ass with his free hand. You pushed him back onto the mat, forcing him to lay down. You looked down at him, which allowed him to drink up the view of you on top of him, outlined in light blue moonlight. He sucked in his breathe as you dove your head back towards his neck, going back to his collarbone to finish what you started. You kissed, sucked, and then sank your teeth into him. You deeply sucked on the small bite mark, making it viewable even in the darkness of the night. You went back to being face to face with him, wanting another makeout session. Just when you were only seconds away from having your lips on his, you hear a voice from inside the house.

*PAUSE THE SEXY MUSIC! We got cockblocked guys 😔*

"Uh, where's Sangoro?" Usopps voice said.

"Didn't he say something about spying on girls in the bath house?" Franky continued.

Shit.

You hadn't thought about it until now, but you realize you don't remember him being in the house with you all before you and Law started sharing this moment.

After realizing your lack of acknowledgement of your missing crewmate, you sat up and face palmed yourself.

"Damn straw hats, I swear," Law said annoyed. It was clear he was sexually frustrated about being cockblocked due to Sanji's pervertedness.

"Sorry," you offered a dissapointed smile to Law, begging for forgiveness. How could you overlook a missing crewmate?

"Don't apologize, it's not your fault," he said reassuringly, "I didn't notice he was gone either. Not that I'm mad he's gone. I didn't like the idea of you being all alone with that pervert," he sat up and crossed his arms. With furrowed brows he released another frustrated sigh and grabbed his hat.

"Hang on just a moment. Wait right here for me please," you say, clearly scheming something. Before Law can protest, you stand up above him and walk towards the frantic house. Law watched as you walked towards the house, then down at himself. His once hard erection beginning to lose blood flow due to his annoyance for Sanji. I am so going to go after you first if we become enemies, Sanji, he thinks to himself. He sits still and waits, just like you told him, and starts listening to your crews conversation from in the house.

"Franosuke, Usohachi, why don't you guys go look for Sangoro at the bathhouse nearby, while Law and I stay here in case he comes back?" you asked with a confident smile, knowing they're going to think that's a good idea on your part. Until Usopp opens his mouth.

"Wait, why do you and Law get to relax here? What if that t rex guy shows back up? That's not fair! You just want to be alone with him!" Usopp was unfortunately right on the money, but you were prepared for this due to his squeamish nature.

"Mr.Yasuie? Are the bathhouses in this country seperated or mixed?" You ask, already sure you know the answer.

"Some are seperate, but most are mixed. The closest one here is mixed. I wouldn't recommend you go though, y/n, ma'am. Most of the women around here don't have as many curves as you do, wouldn't want those men getting their hands on a pretty thing like you," he said smiling all the while.

You smiled triumphantly, but this battle wasn't over yet.

"Why can't Law go, you can protect yourself!" Usopp once again protests.

"Because, it's a bathhouse. Law has his jolly Roger tattooed all over himself. Even if this is Wano, they know what pirates are. And Laws jolly Roger looks nothing like Kaido's. That'd bring unnecessary attention to all of us," you argue back, you start to think up another excuse until you see Usopps face become skeptical, the debating lawyer look now faded from his face and voice. Bingo! We have a winner.

"Oh, ok. That actually makes sense since we're trying to lay low," Usopp says as Franky nods in agreement.

"You sure it's ok for us to split up again?" Franky asks, still needing a little push to be convinced.

"Yeah, you guys are strong enough to hold your own if the enemy shows up. Even moreso if you can find Sanjiii-I mean, Sangoro. In the case you do get captured, it wouldn't be good if they caught all 5 of us at once," you say, hoping you just put the final nail in the coffin.

And with that, they started to head off.

"Ok, we're going, but call me on the snail if anything happens or if Sangoro comes back,"

"I will,"

"Oh, one more thing," Usopp leans in to whisper to you, "Don't let nerd alert make you fall for him. He's been eyeing you up ever since we left that dinosaur in the dust. If he tries anything funny, use this,".

Usopp hands you 2 little red seeds.

"What's this?"

"They're puff puff plants. They release a red mist and if it touches your face it feels like it's burning your face off-"

"Nope" you say as you shove them back into his hand.

"But what if he tries something? What if he hurts you?"

"Usohachi, as much as I appreciate you looking out for me, we both know I can hold my own. Plus, I trust him," you say reassuringly.

"You trust him? Well I guess I can hang that 'don't fall for him' mess up. It's too late, you've already been infected," he shrugged.

"Alright, when he gives your heart over to the navy to become a warlord again, I don't wanna hear it," he said crossing his arms.

"Hey, he needs this alliance just as much as we do. And don't worry, if he does give my heart to the navy, I won't complain. Won't have anyone to blame but myself, so I won't cry to you about it,"

"YEAH, BECAUSE YOU'LL BE DEAD!" Usopp yelled as he and Franky exited the house. You made sure to flip him off before turning to Franky.

"Good luck Franosuke! Come back safe!" You waved as they went off into the night.

"Well miss y/n, I'll be retiring for the night. I'm sorry I can't offer you any nice places to sleep or any blankets, I only have one and I'm skin and bones!" Yasuie laughed.

"That's ok, we'll come back inside and sleep on the floor if you don't mind,"

"Not at all, goodnight!" He said as he walked to his room and closed the door behind him.

*sexy part resumes*

You jogged back to where Law was waiting patiently, feeling horrible for how long it took to convince Usopp to leave.

As you walked up to him, he looked peaceful. With his arms under his head, back to the large mat on the ground, eyes looking at the stars. You got closer and noticed that his hat was off again as you laid down next to him. You looked up at the night sky with him for a moment until you decided to speak.

"Sorry about taking so long. I didn't expect to play lawyer with Usopp,"

"It's ok, and I get why he's worried. I'm not a very open personality like most people,"

"That's another quality I like about you, just makes me want to know more,"

"I will say though, I didn't get why he thinks I'd betray you,"

"Me either, after all you told Luffy you wouldn't. Not that I wasn't skeptical at first, but I've learned that you're always honest,"

He glanced over at you gazing at the sky. He didn't expect to be this comfortable around you. This feels almost foreign to him. There was only one other person he remembered being alone with like this and that was a long time ago and in a different sense. He snapped out of his memories as he sees you suddenly shiver.

"Cold?"

"It is a little chilly," you say as you look back at him. Before you can take your eyes off of him, he's getting up and above you. Pinning you as he puts his hands on the ground. He looks into your eyes seeing a reflection of both himself and the starry sky.

"Figured I could be a gentleman and warm you up," he says.

Damn. There it is again. That sultry voice.

You begin to brace yourself off the ground and up into him, but he swoops down to kiss you before the thought becomes an action. It feels like a do over from earlier. Kiss starting slow and then burning into something more again. However, you don't plan to hesitate this time. It was even later into the night, around 2 a.m. now. Everyone in the village would definitely be asleep. He starts trailing down from your lips to your jaw, then to your neck. You suppose that now it was his turn to leave a mark, and he wastes no time doing so. As he makes work of your neck, making it sting so sweetly, one of his hands trails down to the bottom opening of your kimono, sliding his hand up the side of your thigh. He moves to another part of your neck to make yet another mark and moves his hand up to your hip, unintentionally loosening the bow of your kimono and giving him more of your skin to feel. He stops for a moment, hovering over you, he removes his hand from your hip. You whine in frustration at the loss of contact. He let's out a low chuckle as he moves to look down at you.

"How far do you want to take this, y/n?" He asks looking down at you carefully to read your expressions. You shot him a lustful and longing look and before he could start to say "Use your words,", you bucked your hips up in the air to meet his. You let out a quiet moan, never breaking eye contact as you felt his need to be inside you. That made something in him snap into his own desire. The once careful and cautious look of furrowed brows and frowning, now a dangerous smirk with half lidded glazed over eyes. He kept eye contact with you as he lowered his bottom half onto you, grinding against where you needed him most. As he began biting his lip, he slipped one hand under one of your knees to spread your legs out for him, trying to get as much friction as possible. You put a hand over your mouth, not trying to wake up any neighbors with your feverish cries. He stops for a moment, somehow regaining his senses enough to look around and really make sure no one was out and about. Once he makes sure the coast is clear, he takes an extra precaution.

"Room,".

A blue filter surrounded the 2 of you. He wanted to make sure that if someone were to walk upon you 2, that it wouldn't cause another interruption. He couldn't handle stopping now.

"Law, what're you-aaa," you cut yourself off with a moan as Law brought 2 fingers to your entrance and his thumb to your sensitive bud. And he gave a devilish smirk as he realized just how wet you were for him. All for him.

"I wanted to make sure there were no more interruptions like the perverted cook situation," he whispered into your ear as he slowly inserted his fingers into you. Once he was in he began curling his fingers to hit your sweet spot as he rubbed small circles into your clit. You involuntarily bucked your hips to met his rhythm as he started working on you. He contemplates biting and sucking on your ear, but your moans made it evident you needed help with muffling them out, so he kisses you. And he kisses you more desperately then before. He has quite a way of surprising you. It's almost as if he's been planning this moment for a while, taking mental notes on what to do if the moment ever came. He was thoughtful and strategic like that, which made him even hotter.

As he removes his lips from yours, he takes his fingers away at the same time. Denying you the pleasure of having one sensation without the other at the moment. Then he finally opens his kimono, making quick work of stripping his undergarments. You decide to follow his lead, opening the front of the light blue clothing. Before you can remove your panties, he's already doing it. He takes a moment to appreciate the feast in front of him, feeding his eyes at your bare flesh, noticing every freckle, scar, birthmark, all of it. He loves all of you even more than he already did. It felt like the final puzzle piece falling into place. And it was everything he wanted and more still. You were just as transfixed as he was. Studying every single detail of his tattoos as you could. How godly he looked, bare and bathed in moonlight.

"Hey, don't tell me I've bewitched you or sometheing" Law said jokingly, but there was enough worry in his voice to tell you you've been spaced out for a little too long.

"Hmm...what...uh yeah, I-I mean no...sorry," you were tripping and fumbling over your words, trying desperately to form coherent words and sentences.

He looked at you with a smile that was a mixture of the pride in the fact that he had made you a mumbling mess and of how much he adored how cute you were.

"Law,"

"Yes? Able to speak now?"

You nodded, a little embarrassed for feeling so dumbfounded under this extraordinarily intelligent man.

"What is it, y/n?"

"I need you,".

He let out another low chuckle and pressed his chest against yours. He then had his lips next to your ear as he dangerously spoke.

"Tell me how badly you need me, y/n," he said has he lined himself up with your entrance. You practically feel that he was smirking without even looking at him.

"F-fuck, I need you in every conceivable way possible," you whimpered, hoping desperately that he had heard you quiet plea. And oh, he definitely did.

He slowly sheathed himself within you, taking the opportunity to hear every lewd noise you let out as you felt him become one with you. His pace started slow, controlled, but it seemed as time went by he felt more and more the need to lose himself within you. All the bottled up feelings that had been bubbling up between you was being taken out on your body with every rhythmic thrust, becoming quicker and more aggressive by the second. He made sure to keep rubbing circles into your clit, wanting to make sure you enjoyed every second of this. That was the only consistent controlled place of motion he kept on you as he gave in to the rolling of his hips and need to make you his. The louder you got, the more it sounded like praise to his ears. Paying attention to both of your needs as he listened to every beautiful sound you made under him. Once you started to sound a bit too loud, he crashed his lips to yours. He knew that if someone were to show up that he wouldn't have the energy to stop anymore. The coil in your stomach was tightening, you were almost there. You were about to speak up about it, but Laws mouth was still on yours. So, you let your body tell him instead. Walls tightening around him as he gasps, thrusting through every wave of your high until he reaches his own. He looks at you, a bewildering questioning look on his face, sweaty and flush.

"Cum in me," you say, and he does so.

Once he finally catches his breath, he slowly pulls out of you and plops down beside you on his side. He lifts his head to look at the mess he made of your lower half and it's quite a sight. Almost enough to make him want a second round, but quickly dismisses the thought when he looks back at your face. Your eyes are closed, lips slightly parted as you're still trying to get your breathing under control.

"Sorry for dirtying your kimono," he giggles proudly, pressing a kiss to your temple. He's never been more sure of anything in his life as much as he is about you right now.

"If you really feel guilty about it, buy me a new one," you smile at him, eyes dreamily again.

"I don't feel guilty in the slightest about any of this," he smirks.

You giggle as you turn towards him and kiss him, your body shudders, breaking the kiss.

"Whats wrong, is it difficult to move?" He becomes worried so quickly you'd think his personality switched.

"U-Uh, no. Just...um...we should definitely look for a way to clean me up. Kind pouring out like a faucet down there," you say shyly.

He follows your gaze as you open your legs, revealing quite the mess. If the kimono wasn't dirty a moment ago, it definitely was now.

Luckily he had another kimono packed in his bag, he used shambles to get you both inside, switching your bodies with the 2 seeds Usopp had left on the table even after you refused to take them.

He cleaned you both up with a small water bottle of clean water that he had kept secret and a rag from his bag and gave you his second kimono. Of course, it had his jolly Roger on it, and you knew Usopp was going to give you hell when they got back.

#one piece #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #fanfic

[anxious-lee]

|| Huskerdust Tickle Headcanons ||

A/N: I know I'm kind of a one-trick pony with these two but like someone has to suffer for these queers right

-------

Husk:

- switch

- not big on lying but WILL lie about being ticklish

- unless you're angel

- only after the cat is out of the bag (😄✋️🫳) will he admit it (begrudgingly)

- not SUPER ticklish, but if you persist long enough, he'll go hysterical

- most ticklish spots are his wing pits and belly

- angel once was planting kisses on husk's tum and husk had to tell him to cut it out because it tickled; angel then proceeded to go FULL HAM on the kisses

- equal parts embarrassed of his ticklishness and annoyed by it; angel gets him to appreciate it though eventually 🥰

- will fight for his life to keep from laughing, but depending on how long you tickle him, he's probably gonna lose

- laughs start out as deep, rumbly, chuckles then further escalates into high pitched giggling and then finally culminates in breathy, wheezy, snorts and cackles

- tickling seems a little too flirtatious for him, so he doesn't like it unless it's with a significant other (angel dust)

- if you tickle his neck very lightly or like with a feather, his whole body of fur stands up on end lmao; picture a cat that got struck by lightning

- won't admit to angel how much he enjoys getting wrecked unless he's in a delirious state; after a good and thorough tickling, husk might say "how much he needed that" in between gasps of air

- the little yellow heart on his foot-paws are VERY ticklish!! Do not touch them unless you want to get kicked in the face

- will panic if you restrain him, pin him down semi-firmly instead 😊

- purrs when tickled

- flaps his wings too

- PURRS WHEN TICKLED

- he loves to be a ler for his boyfriend, its like his other favorite thing (beside getting tickled obvi)

- is very conscientious of angel's harmful past and takes very good care not to overstep any boundaries

- with that low, rumbling voice you KNOW he's a vicious teaser

- teases angel with smug or sarcastic comments ("you're not doing a very good job of pretending to get away" "maybe this'll teach you to stop pesterin' me while I work" "'wait?' wait for what? because you and I both know. you. love. this")

- claws are his primary tickle weapons, but his feathers and tail plumage are excellent helpers

- never takes his smouldering eyes off of angel, which drives the poor man crazy

- when he's not doing the usual pin down method, he's a big fan of the hug-from-behind tickles as a ler

- the kind of tickler to stay at your weakest (or favorite) spot and tickle it till you're all good and laughed out

- finishes each tickle session with angel with attentive aftercare, the gentleness of which one wouldn't expect from husk

- they have a safeword established but even still husk stops immediately after hearing the word "stop"; this reassures angel that husk values his consent but it also makes it pretty inconvenient when angel cries it out accidentally and then is like "actually could you keep going please? 😗👉👈" husk: 😑

Angel:

- lee-leaning switch

- like 90% lee I would say

- LOVES to be tickled

- will NEVER admit it

- it's one thing for him to say tickle fights are a turn on, it's entirely another for him to reveal that they make him feel loved

- husk knows through context clues (look up "Ask" fic) and verbally teases him about it while he's tickling him

- is extremely ticklish, which as husk has pointed out, is odd considering his whole profession involves people touching him

- ^ the trick is: he's not crazy ticklish in all places, just SOME places

- most of his body is a-little-above-averagely ticklish

- but his armpits are killer

- giggles adorably at every other spot, but the armpits make him cackle (also adorable)

- squirms like you would not believe

- pretty likely you'll get smacked in the face by one of angel's swatting hands

- despite everything valentino has put him through, he still does enjoy bottoming and- wait ITS GOING NSFW LET ME EXPLAIN-

- ^ he still has fun surrendering control when he trusts the other person. and who does he trust more than husk? normally husk wouldn't be too keen on restraining him, but it adds to the spider's enjoyment and helps him stay still enough to enjoy the treatment, so he obliges. as said before, they have a safeword handy. husk knows that angel enjoys the pretend helplessness, so he puts on an act pretending that angel is helpless to escape his tickly fate, as if husk wouldnt drop everything the moment he thought angel really wanted him to stop. nothing makes angel happier than getting tickled senseless all tied up and vulnerable to his boyfriends loving teases

- blushes a nice pretty pink when laughing 😊

- surprisingly good at handling teases. the normal cutesy stuff (ie baby talk) doesn't do much to him and he can keep a cool head. but blunt observations? and facts? (the kind of teasing husk is best at) completely disarm him

- husk: "you're jumping an awful lot for someone who's NOT ticklish" "you love it when i touch you here don't you?" "I'll keep going alllllll night long, I'll tickle you till you can't even think, it's just you and me, and my wiggling fingers"

- angel will point out later that husk could make a lucrative career in the adult film industry with his verbal talents (husk politely refuses)

- remember that little squeak that angel's bosom made when husk poked it in ep 4? Yeah his whole body makes those sounds when you poke him 😊; alongside angel's hysterical giggles are the sounds of rubber duck squeaks. husk loves it

- this isn't news, angel is a criminally talented ler

- he can make each set of hands give a different amount of pressure and different technique, confusing your brain and making it all the more unbearable

- husk isn't just his favorite lee because he loves him. no no no, he's his favorite lee because you really have to work for it. husk won't open up to just anybody. and when you do, it's the most precious thing you've ever seen. angel thinks so anyway 🩷

- respects husk's boundaries just as much as husk respects his; after the teasing and anticipation is over and angel is JUST about to go in for the kill, he'll lean down and whisper "this ok?", to which husk can only look away and nod slightly, too mortified to say much else. every now and then throughout the tickles he'll repeat the question and wait for the ok signal

- he tried to give husk a relaxing foot massage (paw massage?) but he was too ticklish around the heart-shaped area so you can probably guess how that ended ;)

- they have a mutual agreement: no tickling (except maybe a poke) outside of their bedroom. they don't want any prying eyes on their private business

- tickle fights are always fun, just them wrestling and taking turns getting each other, trying to gain the upper hand

- favorite thing to do after a particularly rigorous tickle fight? naps 😊 <3

--------

Finally finished! 😁

#tickle #tickles #tickling #ticklish #tickle community #lee talks #tickle headcanons #hazbin hotel tickles #lee!husk #ler!husk #lee!angeldust #ler!angeldust #huskerdust tickles

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for possibly getting my coworker in trouble?

I (early 20s f) work with this guy (late 20s-early 30s m) in fulfillment (online orders) at a retail store. He seems like a pretty nice guy but he sucks at his job. Multiple times when we've been cross-scheduled he's just left without telling me, or giving me the equipment, or finishing the orders he had open. I tolerated this because a. it normally isn't that busy and it doesn't cause that much of an inconvenience and b. fixing stuff without causing a problem is just what i do.

Until black friday.

We have 2 types of orders: instore pickup orders and larger batch orders of items that we ship out. Unopened orders can roll over to the next morning but neither of the order types are supposed to be left open overnight and we're supposed to stop pulling items and have all orders closed at least 30 mins before closing. We also can't pack and ship batch order items until the entire batch is finished. Normally we have around 25-75 orders a day in total but on BF we have well over 500. At closing it was me, him, and another guy. I was working both batch orders and instores until closing, he was doing batches until an hour before closing, and the third guy was working instores until closing.

All day long he did annoying things like slowing down our shipping by not going to the manager about items he couldn't find (we're supposed to do that pretty quickly so we don't get backed up) and instead just kept opening a new batch and pulling items for that, leaving his full buggy in the middle of the walkway in the packing area without telling anybody what he was doing with it, and also going outside to smoke repeatedly. I had to take over his batch orders to close them out because he was just not doing it and when i went to double check on stuff he couldn't find i found most of it. he also may have typed in SKU's of items he couldn't find because a lot of ship orders are missing items that are marked as being picked.

like i said before he left an hour before i did. i was packing ship items in the back and he came in, put a few things in the rack of batch items, acted like he finished everything and then left for the night. knowing the way he is i checked the batch orders and he left THREE open (around 45 items between them out of which he picked like 10). one of the orders he literally opened 10 mintues before his scheduled clockout time and he only picked one item out of it, i was able to simply reset that order but for the other two i had to rush to pull the rest of the items because there was too much pulled already for me reset without causing a problem for people working the next day. he did not tell me about any of the open orders even though he knows they can't roll over to the next day open.

i was super pissed off that he did that and also pissed about with the way he'd acted all day so i showed the manager what he did + bitched about it to some of the girls i work with (one of them is a sales lead who was helping with orders and it's almost certain she'll tell the fulfillment lead about it)

i feel bad that he might get in trouble or even lose his job over it but i also feel like i shouldn't have to do this mans work for him and deal with him making my job harder.

AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[moodymisty]

Off The Beaten Path

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's Note: This is technically a reheated meal, but Ao3 seemed to like it and it deserved a revision since it was the first smut I ever posted. I hope at least one person here likes it as well.

Summary: “Death! We’re-” A neutral voice interrupts you, already knowing what you were going to say. “You seemed quite fine with the location when it was just your hand.”

Relationships: Death/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, it's like 20% porn if that, Porn with feeling, No use of y/n, Outdoor sex, Established relationship, Fluff

Word count: 7,392

Ao3 Mirror

Your feet hurt. 

As in really hurt, more than you had ever thought they possibly could. Your boots have been through so much in such a short period of time they're on the verge of truly falling apart, even after numerous small repairs. But those small repairs were like putting a bandage on a gaping wound, largely failing to stop their slow descent into complete disaster. You were partly wondering why Death had still insisted you come with, even if you’d said straight up you were going to slow him down.

And while you did technically slow Death down, as he would never let you forget, apparently you were enough help- or entertainment- that he kept bringing you along. Even if he’d try and act like he was forcing the words out, he never complained beyond the first initial shows of inconvenience.

It also helps that you actually enjoy talking to the denizens of the other realms like the Makers, the undead of the Eternal Throne, even Vulgrim; Whom he had to deal with this time around. Death seemed to have a hatred for loose ends, and with only one Death Tomb left for him to seal up, it entailed having to wretch the final key from Vulgrim's grimy, greedy hands.

All but shoving the bound pages into your hands he forced you to do it, standing a good ten meters back down the path with his arms crossed as if the mere sight of the demon was too appalling for him to go any further.

He was still positioned so that you were clearly in line of sight however, just in case.

You just find it all hilarious, trading Vulgrim for the Tomb key with little fanfare and refusing yet another lowball offer for your soul as he takes the pages from your grubby little mitts, before walking back down the dirt path and tugging on the frayed edges of Death’s scarf. You know he's aware that you've returned, it's just fun to annoy him now that you know that his attitude towards you is mostly bark.

“Finished?” His eyes slowly open, looking down on you and hefting himself off of the hillock he’d been leaning against with his arms crossed.

You dangle the prize off of your index finger in front of your chest, the size and weight of it quite considerable for a key.

“One key; No strings attached.”

Long, pale fingers take the key from you and casually examine it, a jewel of a different color than the others embedded in the handle's side. He tucks it away in a pocket, looking down as you smile and speak:

“Vulgrim says hello, by the way. He told me to give you his greeting and I figured I’d pass on the message. He seemed upset he didn't get to talk to you face to face.”

Death’s prolonged sigh only serves to feed your snicker, as he denies amusing you with a real response. When he turns and starts walking not long after, the sound of your boots stumbling on the dirt as you struggle to catch up pricks his ears.

Something Death has frequently caught himself doing was listening to the sound of said footsteps; The consistent beat of them not too far behind him. When you were bored and kicked rocks, or if you started to jog trying to catch back up with his significantly longer stride. If you started to slow down, or were unable to keep up he would sometimes make as if occupied by something to let you catch his pace again.

Death largely has no need of breaks, apart from very few circumstances. Necromancies require a significant part of his energy, sure, but only a few could manage to make him weary enough for any rest. he can count on his hands the amount of times he's had to do so. Humans however need it constantly, wearing down and tiring after what he considers not much effort at all.

Though even if Death would complain about it, he’ll always keep a keen eye on you for reasons he won't admit.

“I truly wonder how the human race has survived as long as it has, if this is the length of your specie's stamina.” Even if Death plays it off, he isn't immune to the sugar of your satisfied smile, walking beside him and swaying your arms back and forth. “Because we learned how to work smarter, not harder.” You turn to look up more fully at him, still trying to keep pace. “Besides the point; Weren’t you the one who insisted I come along with you anyways? You could’ve just left me with the Makers again.”

Death goes largely unaffected by your attempt at catching him in a corner, keeping his eyes ahead while continuing forward. “Because I don’t trust the Makers as far as I can throw them.” You highly doubt that was the reason, raising your eyebrows. He’d no problem trying to force you with them when he’d gone to fight the Guardian... Or when he attempted to forbid you from following him to the Death Plains.

“You can throw them pretty far, at least last time I checked.” The glaring look in Death’s eyes is more than enough to cover you in an icy heat; But in the end he doesn't verbally chastise you for the snarky comment. “That pup can’t tell his own feet apart- and his teacher has had his head caved far too many times.” You start to raise a hand, but quickly lower it once that icy stare returns to beam down right at you. You speak anyways however, just to poke at him. “What about Alya and Valus?”

The resulting change in energy is enough to dislodge Dust into flight from his perch atop Harvester, who is formed as a single long scythe against the expanse of Death’s back.

“You're not a forge, so I imagine they would have a hard time keeping sight of you for more than a second without trouble.” While you find it amusing he cares so much, even if disguised as irritation, you cross your arms and huff anyways. “You really think I have such bad judgment that I need a babysitter constantly?” Death doesn't miss a beat in responding to you, almost as if he had the response pre-prepared. “You choose to be in the company of a Horsemen. As well as throw yourself at anything that doesn’t immediately attempt to split you in two pieces. Yes, I do doubt your judgment about your own safety. Immensely.”

Ignoring his own self jab, you roll your eyes and keep walking even through the ache of your sore feet. Leave it to Death to find a way to make the mere act of befriending someone sound so haphazard.

Sure befriending Draven hadn't been your smartest idea, but it turned out fine, hadn't it?

But while it hasn't been the first time you've traveled with Death since knowing him, it is the first time since he had returned from the Well of Souls.

Not much has changed in hindsight; apart a generally lighter mood on your part and a tiny bit of an attitude change on Death’s. Unnoticeable, if you hadn't spent so long with him before; Noticing every little tiny tell he has that gives him away. But it was nice now, not having the fate of Earth heavy on your mind. It was nicer to have Death back again however, head held high as he examined the freshly trodden path in front of him.

When spring arrived in the Maker’s realm, it hadn’t much arrived with a graceful and even entrance; More so with a slam, the snow melting and giving way to millions of leaves in what seemed like just overnight. The evenings still get chilly, but you’d much prefer it then the freezing winds and sleet you’d been dealing with not too long ago.

In your effort to keep pace with the Horsemen you notice patches of odd looking flowers along the tree line, and are unable to resist the temptation to pluck one. It’s stem is soft in your grip, covered in a peach fuzz, and smells delightful when you take a whiff. The color is a soft blue, yellow in the middle, reminding you of something you’d find in a valley of rolling hills.

Death notices you fawning over it, but doesn’t comment. It's not like he isn't used to you finding entertainment in seemingly menial things.

It was one of the things that actually made you pleasant to be around; He's been so numbed to everything over his long and unforgiving lifetime, seeing someone's eyes light up over something so uninteresting is, nice. Every now and again he wonders what the world looks like through your eyes.

Until you suddenly stumble forward, thankfully catching yourself before your tired feet manage to send you toppling into the dirt.

“Keep looking at the path instead of plants, and you might not fall.”

Holding the plant in your hand, you roll it gently in your fingers to feel the soft fuzz again while scowling at Death. It fades quickly though, taking another whiff of its familiar sweet scent. The soft petals tickle your skin with the softest touch.

“It just reminded me of something,” Your voice trails off, running through the rest of your sentence in your head instead of actually speaking it. It wasn’t until Death calls out to you, that you realize you hadn’t actually spoken aloud.

“Well?” His sharp tone startles you for a moment, seeing his eyes looking down at you.

“Are you going to finish speaking, or leave me in suspense?” Almost having forgotten what you were going to say, you twirl the flower between your fingers again.

“There’s this cute little plant on Earth called a Snap Dragon,” You can't resist the urge to pluck a different flower, smelling that one as well. “Comes in a ton of different colors. When it starts to wither though, the flower looks like a skull.”

Death let out a huff, and a mumbled: 'How charming', but you were unable fully tell if he was being sarcastic, or was just amused by the description of such an odd little plant. The sentence he speaks after however seems to lean towards that he was the ladder.

“Do tell me it doesn’t bite, will you? I’ve had my fill of violent plants.” You shake your head and smile, letting out a soft laugh.

“No, no biting. Just smells nice.”

Not moments after you finish speaking you twist on your ankle again, the uneven and partly detached sole of your boot sending you off balance and almost crashing into the dirt. You manage to save yourself again, but the flowers in your grip get partly crushed at the stems.

One of Death’s hands quickly darts out to catch you, prepared this time, but returns to his side in a flash once you right yourself. Since it's now been the second time you’ve almost fallen, Death decides it might be a good time for you to sit; Before you actually take a real fall.

“Go sit, before you topple over into the mud.”

Confused, you look up at him after tossing the flowers gently down. Death was normally quite the one for punctuality, and to simply sit for awhile wasn’t much his type. At least as far as you've known him.

And while you’d normally be correct, he wasn’t in much of any actual hurry to clear this last Death Tomb. Even if he’d never say it out loud.

A slight clearing between a few of the trees is where you decide to plop for a moment, just enough off the path. Slipping your pack off of your back with one hand, you plop it onto the ground with little effort, given how light it was.

The sack was yet another thing from the Makers- who you were beginning to think were coddling you- pulling a blanket from it and holding it in both hands. Death sighs but continues to watch.

“Do you truly intend on setting up a camp?” You brush out the blanket and sit on it with a huff, looking up at Death. “Well I was just laying down a blanket, but now I’m all self-conscious about it.” Even if his iris isn’t visible with the Nephilim glow of his eyes, you can tell Death was rolling them.

Letting out a soft grunt as you sit, the first thing you do is lean forward and try to re-tie the laces of your boots; Not that it would do much, but at least they’d be snug again. “Don’t get comfortable. We’re not staying for long.” Death notices the frayed and quite honestly sad state of your current footwear, as you tie them unaware.

Of course out of all the things the Makers chose to lavish you with, a pair of good boots wasn’t one of them.

“So, any reason in particular we're not just using Despair right now?”

Death, standing in front of the tree directly to your right, slides down it until he was leaning against the trunk in a sit just off your blanket. His one leg is bent, supporting an elbow.

“If I summoned Despair every time I needed to travel somewhere, I’m quite sure the beast would come to hate me.”

You're sure there's more to it than that, but he just takes the opportunity for more sarcasm; And you won't get much more out of him than that. Unbeknownst to you however Death would struggle not to crook a corner of his mouth upward as you laugh at his joke, moving to lay completely on your back.

It's nice to stare up at the tops of the trees, watching the light poke between them. They were so unbelievably tall compared to you that sometimes it was easy to forget they even had tops. But you continue to watch, spotting Dust circling through the leaves. He hasn’t landed since being disturbed off of Harvester, and must’ve found something at least somewhat entertaining in the skies. At least more entertaining than what was down here with you.

Death has since closed his eyes, opening one for a moment to see you silently looking upward. You have one arm in the air, a finger pointed as you follow where Dust was circling with a relaxed look. Why he had nary a guess, but it seems to keep you quite well occupied. ‘Thank the Creators.’ He doesn't find himself uttering that phrase very often That not only did you actually enjoy his presence, much to his apprehension; But that you actually knew the pleasure of a peaceful silence. You don't fill the air with constant whining or talking, much like a brother of his. It's something beyond rare to him, and he uses the moment to actually rest his eyes for once.

Death has no need for such a thing, but he can’t deny that it was a rare luxury he would like to partake in every once in awhile. Strife probably would’ve called him old, was he around to do so.

With your weight off of your feet for once they finally stop crying out, sighing as your muscles slowly loosen. What you’d give for a nice, soothing massage. That word perks a small part of your brain, wandering off as your eyes blur unfocused on the treetops. They were all starting to blend together, becoming one giant mass and no longer interesting.

Dust is no longer in view either, flown off somewhere far enough away that you can't even hear the distant echo of his caws; But even without it, the forest is just so, peaceful. With the Corruption gone, not a single thing other than the natural predators stalks these woods with ill intent.

Moving to adjust your top into a more comfortable position, which had bunched up into a wrinkled mess, it was the sudden jolt of feeling from the fabric of your bra against your chest that makes your thighs jerk together.

That wasn’t exactly the type of thing you had been thinking about moments ago, but once your mind starts to wander, you find it near impossible to get back on track.

Leaning up to look around there was not a creature in sight, the forest seeming empty. But it still always feels like it's alive; Watching. But if Death is able to sleep, you can say with absolute surety there isn't a soul in the leagues of forest around both of you.

Well, at least Death looked like he was sleeping- it's hard to tell for sure. His eyes are closed as he leans against the base of the tree, head tilted ever so slightly forward. He seems almost a statue, nearly frozen with his arms crossed over his chest. Maybe he's just thinking, but either way, his attention isn't on you.

The shoddy blanket you have laid out muffles the sounds of movement as you roll on your stomach. As long as you were slow, he wouldn’t hear a thing, and you were good at being quiet; When you had to.

Fair to say, it had been a trait you were forced to learn quite quickly.

Using the arm more obscured from Death’s point of view, you slowly slip a hand between the blanket covered ground and your body. A tight fit it squeezes between your stomach and the ground, slipping past the waist of your trousers. Quickly diving past the fabric of your underwear wetness quickly covers your fingers as they gently move, slow and deliberate as you try to keep your breathing quiet. You can't help but take a wayward glance over to Death, who is still unmoving. Good; Enough that your mind focuses more on your hand as it slides between your folds, teasing at your most sensitive areas that are still begging for more and more. Which you were quite intent to fulfill, as long as fortune continues in your way.

It's been awhile since, and now that you've paid attention to that inkling in the back of your mind, it's hungry; Borderline starving.

A harsh swallow makes your throat tense as you try to stay completely quiet, moving your mouth more against your forearm to muffle the sound of your breathing. It works enough to smooth your anxiety about it, fingers pushing harsher against yourself. It felt like you were making not a peep, surely you could go a little farther... Even the rustle of the trees was drowning out now as your mind focuses in on that tightening in the pit of your stomach, even if it hindsight wouldn’t be the most satisfying. But you were desperate for that little bit of paradise, letting out the tiniest of sighs against your arm, so close yet so far to- “You are far less quiet than you think you are.”

Gasping and almost letting out a shriek Death was suddenly close to you, body leaning partly over yours. When you attempt to wiggle away he pushes his right palm down onto your right shoulder blade, holding you in place. Even with such little effort he has you completely trapped you against the ground, the movement making your shirt rise a bit to show some of your lower back. “Death! I-I though you were-” “Asleep?” Trying to find the words to speak but also the power to pull your hand from your trousers, both were failures as Death holds you firmly in place. “Do you fail to remember the time I told you I have no need of sleep?”

You’d completely forgotten, to be honest. It was an offhand comment you’d made whilst in the middle of the whipping winds aboard the Eternal Throne, saying he had ‘bed head’. Death had said in response he couldn’t possibly, because he doesn’t sleep. Or at least his body didn't require it. That realization that he had heard everything combined with Death's almost scolding tone, sends a shiver down your spine.

No matter how many times you swore you’d snark back at him this time, take the leading role, Death always seemed to know how to completely end that line of thought before it could even begin.

“I-I, sorry I can,” His body weight shifts causing you to gasp for air a tiny bit, looking back as much as you could seeing his silhouette hover over you.

“Death, you’re,” You purse your lips tight together as you try to force the words out. But you only push out a breath of hot air through your tight lips, trying to gather enough of a coherent sentence to tell him off.

It seemed Death was trying to scold you for this, but…. “You’re, not exactly making this any easier.”

He's silent, feeling your thighs press together tightly and the tightness of your breathes, and when you turn your head, he can just barely see the colors of your eyes with how blown out your pupils were. It's always nerve-wracking to look at the Reaper; To stare into bright, unreadable eyes.

Granted, this isn't the first time; Your own personal room in the Tri-Forge, the halls of a now much more friendly Eternal Throne, a cave in the Dead Plains. Each time the Reaper had bared more to you than he probably had anyone else in an uncountable number of years. But Death’s lack of change in personality towards you had left you wondering if it was permanent, or merely a temporary indulgence.

When he’d gotten back from the Well of Souls however he’d said a few choice words that felt odd on his tongue, and you finally didn’t have to read between the lines; At least not as deeply. Death has never and probably will never be the most forthcoming.

Unless he wanted to be, shifting his body weight to better support himself as bony knees on either side of you dig into the dirt underneath your blanket.

It was a movement that seemed almost unintentional, except for the fact that it very much was.

It presses his groin harder against your ass, pulling the fabric of your trousers tighter over your hidden hand. Gasping as your body moves forward ever slightly from his weight, the Reaper’s body follows. You try your best to turn around and face him, but when it didn’t quite work, you look ahead with a sheepish expression. The woods hold nothing but trees for your eyes to focus on, a barren seeming wild.

“Death! We’re-” His deadpan voice interrupts you, already knowing what you're going to say.

“You seemed quite fine with the location moments ago when it was just your hand.” Death doesn't necessarily feel embarrassment- at least not nearly as often as others might. Living as long as he has weathers one down beyond such largely meaningless things. And while he has no issue teasing you- at least what he would consider teasing or as close as he could on the matter, it's only because the possibility of any matter of life seeing you effected by it was absolutely zero. Call Death greedy, but he would sooner slice himself width-wise at the gut than let any other see you even just flushed like this. Though maybe he had a reason to be that greedy when he had originally thought he was too far gone for love- let alone including the physical kind in the definition. “Well, I- that was a little different!”

Even if the forest was well empty, beyond the occasional wildlife, the situation seems to keep your voice barely above a whisper. “Oh really, is it? I fail to find a difference.”

You hate how often he could render you silent, pursing your lips tighter in an almost pout. He can hear, and see, the harsh exhale through your nose, almost shaking under his grasp. It had just been arousal at first, but now he’s succeeded in making you embarrassingly irritated as well. “You just love dangling things in peoples faces and then taking it away, huh?” He’s silent, body barely even fidgeting above you. It almost makes you nervous, your arm starting to fall asleep from where it’s still pinned underneath your torso. Death is always thinking, and not often could you guess what it was about. “Ask nicely.”

Death replays the abashed scoff you let out multiple times, a hot flush on your face. The pins and needles you feel in your arm almost seem to vanish as you get too distracted by the overwhelming heat on your cheeks. “You want me to beg?” Death hummed, faking some sort of contemplation. “That would work as well. Though I would prefer the former.”

Damn this reaper, damn him to hell. “You’re awful.” You’d never dare mean it of course, pursing your lips and trying to hold your knees from shaking. You have no problem with pleading to the Horsemen, but hearing your voice in the open like this, catching in the wind, it almost feels like someone would hear. Even if there wasn’t another living soul for an incredible distance. You take a deep sigh, the flushed heat all over your body only getting hotter, no amount of air able to snuff it.

“Please, Death.” He will never admit it to you, will never saddle you with the emotion that he had only wanted to hear those words; To actually hear someone wanted him. Let alone desired him. Those words bring him closer to your body, a hand of long, thin fingers coming to brush the stray hairs from your face. It was a completely silent gesture, but his uncharacteristic gentleness is more than enough to get it across. His knuckle brushes against your cheek for a moment and feels the inconsolable heat rushing across your face. He is as cold as the grave, and you are the first time in an uncountable number of years he’s felt the flush of heated skin.

He lifts off you enough that you could roll just enough and pull your hand from underneath you, moving to lay it in front of your chest.

Moving his own hand away from your face, it was a jolt to suddenly feel cool skin through your shirt. It was deliberately slow, trailing down the knocks of your spine and succeeding to send multiple shivers down with it. Slipping down the back of your trousers, he uses his wrist to push them downward until they, along with your underwear, lay like a cinch around your thighs. You won’t be able to get them off without much more effort, and it wasn’t something that you- nor Death it seemed- wanted to do.

You wouldn't have had the time anyways, as cold fingers quickly pressed against your folds and cause your thighs to tighten in surprise. Never would you say you hated the deathly chill to his skin, his body, but it always sent shivers up each time he’d surprise you with his touch.

They slide between your outer lips, back and forth pooling and drawing forth more slick wetness against your groin and thighs. It was a merciless tease, groaning from the horribly empty feeling you were now overtaken by as he kept just barely avoiding what you wanted.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t been indulging yourself not minutes ago on your own, but it felt different when it was Death. Leagues different.

“You’re being impatient.” 

The angered groan you let out couldn’t have done less to motivate Death; If anything, it only served as kindling for him to toy with you more. He scolded you only to then finally press ever so slightly, two fingers gently but consistently making their way inside. It was barely moments before they were deep enough that you were gritting your teeth, gasping as they curled and you tightened around them in response.

“And you’re the one being a tease.”

Death didn’t respond, having no need to, as your sentence had absolutely none of the bite you had clearly intended it to. Your voice wavers too much, affected by the feeling of cold, deft fingers being driven deep in the heat of your cunt.

Death had once made a largely passed over comment about how his skin felt like the dead- and while you couldn’t disagree, you’d never get over how intoxicating it felt against your own.

Especially in this context, his other fingers grazing over your other lips and collecting the myriad of wetness glistening against against you. It was the source of multiple egregious noises, only beaten by the sound of moans you were attempting to muffle. But Death never once falters, dragging each movement out with an infuriating level of patience. Infuriating for you at least, as you can just feel the smugness dripping off of him.

The silent kind, knowing with an absolute surety you were crumbling underneath him. He was always confident when the tables were like this, focused away from him. The times you had tried to turn those tables, he could so deftly change them right back before you had the chance to do a single thing.

You’ll still continue to try though, pushing your body against him as much as possible feeling his weight against your back. Stubbornness will win out eventually.

With the inner parts of your thighs slick as well as what seemed like a good portion of Death’s hand, you move to lay your forehead against your forearms, feeling the heat of your face against them. It was almost as hot as when you stood next to one of the forges for too long, just on the edge of beginning to sweat. The motion as well helped to cover the sound of your whines, thighs shaking as your cunt tightens around his moving fingers.

A pocket of hot air forms in the area around your face and arms, thick against your face. But you dare not leave it’s comfort, as Death’s stare would easily render an even tighter feeling in your chest.

“I would find it quite insulting, if you’ve fallen asleep.”

In about a day from now you’ll probably have a million different comebacks that would perfectly fit this exact scenario, to bite back at his snarky little comment. But at this moment, the most you can muster was a light throw of your body and spit a single insult:

“Jerk.”

You’d bet your soul right now he was smirking behind that mask, even if you can’t see it.

Fingers slipping from you they trailed upwards, over your thighs and leaving a sticky trail. You can just barely feel the back of his hand and wrist ghosting over your skin, removing whatever clothing was impeding himself. Only just enough it seemed, as you can still feel cloth against your lower legs.

It was obvious, but even as you suddenly feel him press against you, your thighs still tighten and hips jerked in shock.

It was something you’ll ever dare say aloud, but it wasn’t the first time you realized just how much larger of a person Death was compared to you- in multiple regards.

Your eyes were too big for your mouth, latching onto a Horsemen.

The same hand moving upwards, he grasps just under your ass, pulling outward and leaving yourself exposed enough that he can press against you; Ever so slowly slipping between your outer lips. Methodical, Death was what you'd assume to be the slowest he could possibly be; Pushing inward slowly, slowly, until his hips pressed against your ass.

Three, four, five, six.

Soft and deliberate Death was until he was dragging soft moans from you, your body unwound and no longer tense. It was only then he sped up, the slightest bit, your own hips attempting to reach up to meet him with what tiny amount of force you could muster. It wasn’t much, he had you caged so close to the ground it felt like you’d go through it- the forest but a backdrop to him surrounding you almost entirety.

It almost instills a sense of vertigo, surrounded by his shadow as Death’s body weight was overwhelming against your back, forcing you into the ground as he fucked you. It's all so overwhelming; Grasping at the dirt, the grass, your blanket. Your toes curl as moans turned into cut little gasps. “Breathe, girl.”

It's nigh impossible to, almost feeling like the Reaper was taking the air right from your lungs. If you raise your head any little bit you’d be able to feel his mask against the back of your head, looming just over top.

Deep down you’ve always wanted him to take it off; To see his face. Even if it was more so to kiss him, hold his face smoothly in your hands. But you know he won't- not now, and probably never. You’d never have the heart to demand it, either way. It doesn't matter that much to you.

Caged by both of his arms parallel to your shoulders, you can only keep your head upright for a moment before moving to lay your head against your forearms again. His body weight against yours was almost impossibly heavy, far more than any human. But it wasn’t uncomfortable, keeping off of you just enough. Death is always meticulous, the perfect amounts of everything. Especially with you.

But even if he tried to hide it infinitely deep within him, you knew he always held back. You're the most fragile thing he's been around in an uncountable number of years. “Death…” You say his name wrapped in a breathless whisper it trails off as if a question, pricking his ears. “Harder.”

Death always is as gentle as he could possibly be, as your human frame would often bruise or cut from things that wouldn’t be even noticeable on him. But you beckoning him to teeter you closer to edge of pain however, is tempting. His body becomes faster, rougher, heavier, hips pressing against your with an aggressive abandon. It would’ve kept sliding you forward along the blanketed ground, had Death not yanked your left arm from under your head- pressing his hand around your forearm to hold you steady underneath him.

Fingers stretching out struggling to find anything to grip, to keep yourself stable, the only thing was still just the ground underneath. But Death doesn’t buckle even a little; Almost stoic. It was frustrating how unaffected he always seems, compared to you being almost always a near total mess. Managing to lift your head up enough to turn it and look back at him, you can see his hair falling over his shoulders and around his mask, shadowing it.

But it was the expression behind the mask that surprised you; You hear him let out the smallest shaking breath of air while turning his head away from your gaze. Death is a very quiet, indomitable being. To hear him let out even the smallest reaction, showing the slightest chip in his armor- meant he was crushed under such emotion that even he couldn’t hold it back.

But it had faded just as quickly as you’d heard it, going back to silence other than the most quiet noises of movement from him. It had been a delight, and you’d love nothing more than to hear it again.

It could easily be said you were making enough noise for the both of you, your stomach in wonderful knots, about to snap. You were so, so close, trying to arch your back to push your hips against him more.

You’ve never felt anything to this degree before Death- an almost overwhelming about of pleasure that could send your mind reeling. Seeing stars wasn’t that far off an expression, gasping loud enough that you instantly try to cover your mouth as Death laid almost completely down on you; Hips grinding enough you swore they’d leave marks. But he is just as silent as ever, listening to the sounds of you coming undone beneath him.

He struggles to think of anything that could compare- to hear someone cry out for your everything pleading for more. It makes his chest tighten with a feeling he can’t quite place.

Your thighs press tight against each other as you cum, almost too tight for Death to even move. He slows to a crawl, you tight like a vice around him as you feel a delightful shiver run through your body. It almost overwhelms your entirety, hand clapped over your mouth to muffle what would’ve probably been quite a loud gasp, if you hadn’t stopped it. Had you been anywhere else, Death would’ve peeled your hand away to hear it.

Still grinding against you with an amount you’d say was almost too much, you had to peel your hand away from your mouth to support yourself. You try to wrap around and reach for him; Desperate for touch. But you can barely grab anything other than his scarf, feeling his cool skin just barely against your fingertips. Your hand falls back to the ground with a thump, grasping at almost nothing.

His hand on your bicep tightens, the skin underneath surely bruising, as he finally slows to a halt against your own still tense body. A breath of air pushed through his teeth as a soft hiss, being almost completely muffled by the mask to where even you didn’t hear it. You might’ve thought he’d be short of breath as well, as you had been after you came, but how could one be short of something they didn’t even technically need? Death always had an odd relationship with natural functions like breathing.

It also seems now he realized how tight of a grip he had on your arm in his distraction, fingers loosening around the soft skin. But red marks still remained, and would continue to do so.

It wasn’t like you minded, in all honesty.

Breath finally leveling out you still lay limp, only moving slightly to adjust into a more comfortable position as Death pulls away. You can feel movement, presumably him adjusting his trousers and gaining what minute fraction of decorum he’d lost. When finished, you've barely begun to try and tug at your own clothing to right it.

It takes you a few seconds to do so, before managing to wrangle back full control of your arms which had both at one point been asleep due to the unnatural positions, now tugging down your shirt to fix it. “Ahh, there you are. I thought you dead.”

Pulling your bottoms upward, you had loosened your belt to help lessen the pain as they brushed against areas that would surely soon, if not already, become sore. A nice warm shower to clean up and relax would surely be nice, but a bit of out reach at the moment. “So now of all times is when you finally decide to crack a joke?”

Death doesn’t hesitate to respond, voice sounding absolutely coated in mirth. The Reaper moves to sit in the same position he had before everything, only this time actually joining you on the blanket he’d originally found pointless. He still did, but humans and their constant pursuit of comforts was in a weird way also amusing; At least when he was watching you. “Oh, so now you disapprove? I thought you were the one who wished I would ‘lighten up’. ”

You attempt to roll over and sit on your bottom to join him, but the sudden ache makes it a slower, gradual transition to a sitting position. If you had intended on this whole break being to lessen the amount of general discomfort you were feeling, it seems to have been a complete failure. A lovely, incredible failure. “There’s a time and a place, Death.” “I could’ve said the same to you not long ago.”

You’d be more tempted to come up with some sort of snappy comeback, If his two note chuckle at your embarrassment hadn’t caught you so off guard.

You just smack his chest instead, before looking away and trying to avoid any sort of eye contact. Moments later and his teasing comment well past gone, you sigh and lean against his arm in an over-dramatic motion adding to what you were about to say. Your lips just barely graze against the skin of his shoulder in an almost-kiss; something you’ve gotten used to doing.

“I think I need a little bit more rest though.” Death turns and even with the mask, you can tell he had a decently mirthful expression; By his standards. He’d spotted the way you’d looked up at the sky and noticed a familiar bird, fingers flexing as if you waited to lovingly squeeze the carrion eating pest. “Are you actually going to rest, or use the time to coddle Dust?” Almost as if he heard his name called the crow descends through the treetops, and plops into the lap of his preferred affection giver. Which is you, of course. Death watches the bird puff up, a nearly shapeless mass of feathers as you scratch to rid him of any dirt and douse him with, at least what you thought was, deserved affections. “The blasted bird already never listens, the last thing he needs is your wily affections making him any lazier.”

Death then suddenly notices the way you’ve been leaning against his arm, laughing and smiling, fingers toying with a torn bit of his armor. Your face was still slightly flush, hair and clothing a bit of a mess, and he couldn’t help the hand that darted out to fix a stray piece of hair without you noticing. It all feels, nice. Like he isn’t Creation’s most reviled being. “Summon Despair, I’ll win him over too. Horsemen without a horse.”

Death wouldn’t comment on how you more than likely already had, with how much you scratched behind his ears and call him ‘A good boy, The smartest boy,' and 'The best undead horse in the universe.'  To think, Death could remember a time you’d been utterly scared out of your wits by the horse, and him by extension.

How you had changed tune about them so drastically in such a short amount of time continues to baffle him. He wonders sometimes if other humans would be as similarly forgiving.

“The realms surely tremble with excitement from the mere thought.”

The scowl that is being sent at Dust from his owner would’ve surely melted any other bird; But Dust is of a different breed, and simply sits content and continues preening.

“Quite the shame they don’t know then.” If Death had tried to contain his feeling of complete exasperation with you and all your antics, it didn’t work, letting out a sigh.

“Take it to the grave then, will you?”

You can only chuckle, extremely pleased at his exasperation. Dust joins in only in timing with a soft warble, overjoyed that you were scratching the puff of feathers behind one of his ears. How lucky Death thought he was, to have not one aggravating travel companion, but two.

Not that he would ever complain out loud. If anything, half of the reason he was out here was because you’d found the last Death Tomb so fascinating, even if for him it was just another monotonous journey.

You had been wide eyed looking at vases and murals, spinning around to see every little thing. So easily entertained humans were, as Death had watched you eye a variable mound of golden coins. It was part of the reason he insisted you accompany him, beyond an admittedly selfish desire to have you alone; And away from hovering Makers.

When was the last time something had caught Death’s interest so tightly? Besides you, he can’t quite remember.

“I could take it to the grave with me…” Death can feel the ‘but’ hanging just off the end of your sentence, waiting for whatever chaos you were going to concoct in the same way he prepared for the brunt of battle.

“Or you could introduce me to Strife, and I could joke about it with him.” You’ve said many a stupid thing before, both to and in earshot of Death, but none had gotten such a lightning quick response of:

“Absolutely not.”

#darksiders x reader #darksiders death x reader #Death/Reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

[newkatzkafe2023]

@lara-legomonkiekid

What if Y/N was like Jax from tadc!

(Lmk Wukong) Wukong thought that he was the king of pranks That was untill he met you. Your a rather Unusual looking rabbit demon. You're smiling constantly and you at wearing pink overalls. Not to mention it seems you are have very full curves. Look relatively harmless until Showed everyone that you're not. He was the main target of your pranks. Whether it be the candy apple that was actually an onion trick or the cookies filled with toothpaste, He was not pleased with what you do. And the final straw was that you once put a family of spiders in mk's bed. Then he went to confront you and before he could scold you. For your actions, you were like it's about time You came to see me. I was wondering win the king was gonna give little me some attention. Ok now Wukong is perplexed You mean to tell him that the reason you are doing? All this is because you want his attention. You couldn't just went up and talked to him. You finally responded with well. Where's the fun in that. This is the beginning of a rather interesting relationship.

(NR Wukong) Okay would you believe me if I said this all started with a bowling ball. You were over hear dropping balling balls on random demons and unfortunately that ended up being him. You quickly saw that that was the monkey king himself and boy did you run Like your life depended on it. The next day this dude somehow found you, He demanded to know why you hit him with a bowling ball effort. She was trying gonna play dumb to it. But it looks like he means business so you just told them that He wasn't your target. The exchange gets heated and he finally says that I hope You know that this means war. Oh he came to challenge you to a prank war Game on hot old man monkey.

(MK Reborn Wukong) You are the bain of this monkey's existence. This rabbit demon has been messing with him and his group for weeks. Fun fact you once Wrote the word nerd On master tang forehead. You put spicy peppers in pigsy's soup and feed a lemon to fruity. Yeah you are freaking menace and your relationship was a lot like tom and jerry. This man was always yelling and trying to fight you. But you would always quickly escape with your infinite stamina. This goes on for far too long to the point where master Tang decided, To just bring you along the journey to enlightenment and You told him that the only reason you're accepting is because of the hot Angry monkey who always tried to chase you. The look on his face was priceless

(HIB Wukong) You make this man so tired you are just to full of energy for him. And he tends to brush off your pranks. As little inconveniences which annoys you alot. You guys me On his travels to Hun Dun. You of course was flirting with him a little bit before offering your hand To introduce yourself with he did want to shake it he got shocked. You explained to him that you picked up static before making contact with him. He already knows that this is going to be a long day

(Netflix Wukong) Oh how you have made the world's most hilarious enemy. This guy would engage with a prank war with you with no problem. Weeks of onslaught pranks on each other, while sometimes getting people caught in the crossfire was quite thrilling. You guys decided to take a break and actually Talk to each other and found that. You guys have a lot more in common than you think. Not to mention he's quite cute to you. I guess you can always see what this adventure would take you two.

Feel Free to Reblog😇👍

#monkey king netflix #monkey king reborn #monkey king x reader #lmk monkey king #nezha reborn #x female y/n #monkey king hero is back #the amazing digital circus #tadc jax

[unsupervised-meatsuit]

Inconveniences, Cultists, and the Warehouse of Rejected Toys

Cross posted on AO3!

If there was one thought that Marinette could attribute to describe the entirety of this situation, it would be that Thursdays suck.

It is not the most commonly hated day of the week, since that dubious honor belongs to Monday, for rather obvious reasons. Since it is so universally hated, however, it never comes as a surprise when the bad things come out to play. Oh, there was a fire in the office next door over the weekend, and now the air conditioning smells like burnt rubber and brick dust? That's just Monday for you. A villain attack in the warehouse district caused a shipping delay and that package you ordered got lost somewhere? Disappointing, yet unsurprising. The subway is so packed that a sardine tin would be spacious in comparison? Well, that's the subway every day, so it doesn't really count.

Tuesdays and Wednesdays are just that, days. Nothing exciting, nothing awful. Middle of the line, going through the motions, monotonous. Whether trudging through or in the zone, things get done and nothing exciting happens. Fridays are, of course, celebrated as the finish line, the checkpoint in the marathon of life that says 'you made it! You can take a rest now'. The final stretch before the glorious work-free weekend. The one where you can go home with the comfort of knowing there are no alarms coinciding with dawns break, just waiting to sneak up on you too soon. No annoying coworkers waiting with their metaphorical talons and too-cheerful-to-be-real attitudes, ready to interrupt your flow at the worst possible moment. Fridays are the tantalizing breath of freedom, just awaiting for the clock to strike.

But Thursdays? Thursdays are the worst.

They are the day you always forget. The one that sneaks up on you, where you wake up with the inkling of hope and relief that the end brings, only to have the crushing realization that it is not, in fact, Friday. Like seeing a finish line on the crest of a hill in front of you, only to watch as the closer you get the further away it seems. The one where you cram every ounce of procrastinated effort into the projects you have been putting off until right before the deadline, wishing for nothing more than an IV drip of straight espresso into your veins, followed by a three century long nap.

The day where you get kidnapped by an evil cult and strung up from the ceiling next to an unconscious vigilante, simply for the crime of being a nice person in Gotham.

Or maybe that is just Marinette.

'Embodiment of good luck and creation my ass,' she thought bitterly, rope digging painfully into her elbows and just below her ribs. 'Oh yea, let's go to Gotham. The city is unbalanced and needs a Guardian to fix all of the curses. That is such a great idea. Nothing bad will happen! Well what do you call this then, Tikki?!' Marinette sighed, the feeling of pins and needles creeping down towards her bound wrists as she swung precariously some twenty-five odd feet above the concrete warehouse floor, trying to ignore the worry she felt being separated from the little deity. Beside her was none other than Red Hood; former(maybe? she's not sure) crime lord, gunslinging vigilante, and too freaking heavy for his own good. Seriously, for someone who uses firearms almost exclusively, there is no reason for him to be so damn muscular. Or tall. Completely unfair for someone to hog all the height like that. It's what got them into this whole mess to begin with!

Well- That wasn't entirely true, but still. If he didn't weigh so much, Marinette could have easily grabbed him and run from the masked, potato-sack-wearing, nonsense-spewing, second rate fanatic occultists before they even knew she was there. But no, Red Hood just had to be the size and weight of a small bear, and now they were both in this mess.

"I should have never gotten out of bed this morning..." She muttered despondently, hearing a groan come from the limp figure beside her.

"Son of a bitch..." Red Hood murmured, voice changer in his helmet distorting the words to be near incomprehensible. The following string of curses as he presumably opened his eyes and took in their predicament was much more audible, however. Looking down, Marinette couldn't even begrudge him the swearing.

The two of them were currently hanging from a catwalk suspended in between two of the six total concrete pillars and directly above where the aforementioned potato-sack-wearing cultists were busy drawing out chalk guidelines for some kind of complex ritual circle. She couldn't quite make out what it was meant to be yet, seeing as it was in the early stages, but she could assume that it wasn't anything good for their would-be sacrifices. They were really dedicated, too, not even glancing up at the vigilante that was giving his best impression of an angry drenched cat. One of them even had a protractor and was double checking all of the angles in the twelve pointed star. Clearly, whatever this ritual was meant to be, it was going to take a while to complete.

Red Hood clearly didn't appreciate the attention to detail, which honestly? Fair. But the way he showed his displeasure at the situation involved thrashing around in the cocoon of thick chains wrapped securely around his whole body. (Marinette was only a little bit jealous at the differing treatment, since if she had more than a single rope wrapped around her torso, it wouldn't hurt nearly as much, but also it would make escape harder.) The thrashing wouldn't bother her if it weren't for the fact that A) they were both tied to a rickety catwalk, and B) every time there was movement on said rickety catwalk, it caused Marinette to bounce around and dug into the already forming bruises on her arms and abdomen.

"Hey, could you cut that out?!" She snapped, wincing in pain. Her voice caused Red Hood to whip his head in her direction and freeze, "You aren't the only one here strung up like a pinata, and unlike you, I'm not wearing any armor. I would personally rather not be split in half and spew my intestines all over the place like a macabre birthday celebration, thanks!" There were several long moments of silence while he stared at her and she attempted to alleviate some of the pressure of the rope. She was unsuccessful, sadly, but at least she was no longer bouncing. After a few moments, the swearing started up again, much more vehement than the last time, though without the accompanying thrashing, thankfully.

Marinette huffed, turning her attention to the warehouse below, allowing him to get it out of his system. It was very clearly disused and permeated with the smell of dust, but not quite abandoned as she would expect. Various sizes of wooden crates were scattered and stacked all around the stained brick walls along with stacks of empty pallets and cardboard boxes. The center of the large building was a two stories tall square, held up by four concrete pillars fading into darkness and broken windows. The empty space was only broken by the catwalks that were claustrophobically close to the exposed, rusty rafters, and a disused... crane thingy on an I shaped track above the two truck-sized doors to the right. In front of and behind them were what she guessed to be offices with windows that overlooked the main floor and connected to the catwalks through discrete side doors. The bottom floor continued underneath the offices where there were stairs resting against the back wall, though they were barely visible through the deep shadows and pallets of stacked boxes.

Directly underneath them, the cultists had cleared out a large area and hung up bright florescent floodlights that cast stark shadows pointing down towards their try-hard craft project. They had a cheap table set up to the side covered in candles, chalk, various liquids, jars, and bowls of different white powders, which Marinette guessed was salt or bone dust or something of the sort. Oh, and rumbling minifridge full of blood bags. There was that, too.

"-toe-eyed shit monkey fuck-tard motherfucking piece of-" Red Hood was still going, but seemed to be somewhat running out of steam. Or different ways to say the same swear words. Or maybe breath, Marinette wasn't quite sure yet.

Down below, the cultists remained focused on their ritual. Or, at least most of them did. Only about four total were actually doing any drawing or plotting out, with exactly twelve seated a little ways away from the star's points, all meditating. There were three more that Marinette could see, and from what she could tell, they weren't very focused on anything work related, if the one holding the weird, green-haired doll was any indication.

Marinette squinted in concentration, calling on her connection with the Kwami to sharpen her senses and hear past the still-swearing Red Hood.

"-whole box full of the creepy little things." The one holding the doll said, her voice disdainful. I hereby name you Dolly, Marinette thought, eyes flicking to the medium sized crate she had pulled the doll from. It had some kind of toy company logo on it, though not one that she recognized.

"Why would you even go looking through those?" the other cultist asked, somewhat judgmentally. And I hereby name you Judgy.

"I was bored." Dolly replied flatly, inspecting the green haired doll in her hands.

"Aren't you supposed to be watching the sacrifices?" Marinette squinted, tensing slightly despite the flare of burning pain it caused, but the cultists didn't even bother looking in their direction.

"No, that is Mark and Jacob's job." She waved dismissively, not glancing up from the doll. 

"Ah." He paused for a moment, before letting out an exasperated sigh. "Who thought it was a good idea to put those two together?"

"No clue. Better them than me, though. I hate watching sacrifices. They always cry and yell at me, or try to beg their way out. It is so annoying. I'd rather just be bored." Judgy nodded in agreement, shifting his weight and crossing his arms. Marinette couldn't help but scoff quietly. As if.

"Well, at least you get to look through dusty crates and find creepy dolls this time." They both stared at the doll for a few moments as Dolly scoffed.

"Yeah, and that totally makes up for the fact that we are a day early. I had to call out of work for this shit." She said sending a small glare at the cultist with the red trim decorating their burlap 'robe' before looking back at the doll. Dolly turned the thing over in her hands before finding something on the back of it. "Oh hey, there is a switch here." 

Marinette could barely hear a tiny click as the switch flipped and the two went quiet as they waited for it to do something. Dolly shook it, but got no response aside from the sounds of chalk scraping concrete, plastic rulers clattering, the constant drone of the minifridge, and the sound of moving cultists that overlayed the faraway screeches and honks of the city outside the warehouse walls. The two(plus Marinette) waited to see what the doll would do for several more moments to no avail.

"Does it need batteries or something?" Judgy asked. Dolly opened her mouth to reply, but didn't get the chance as the doll's eyes lit up and laughed, long and loud, to the cadence of Judgy's voice. It was unsettling, and very clearly reminiscent of a certain clown. The way it echoed around the warehouse amplified the creepiness. It was somewhat comical how Dolly jumped and scrambled to flip the switch back off as almost everyone stopped what they were doing and turned their heads towards her in unison, though. Or, well, it would be if it weren't for the fact that these people had strung her from the ceiling up and were waiting to sacrifice her to whatever entity they worshipped.

Marinette was jolted out of her concentration by a throat being cleared, and her head snapped towards the source. Beside her, Red Hood was looking in her direction(or at her, it was hard to tell with the helmet) and very clearly no longer swearing.

"You done, now?" She sassed, glancing back at the cultists she was so rudely interrupted from eavesdropping on. Dolly and Judgy were looking sheepish(as much as one could look sheepish, wearing *that*) as most of the others glared at them(presumably). The one with the red trim on their potato sack seemed to be scolding them, and about half of the ones sitting at the star's points weren't looking, continuing to meditate unbothered after the initial interruption. Interesting.

"Yeah. Sorry about that." Red Hood said, sounding somewhat uncomfortable, though it was difficult to tell through the voice changer. Marinette didn't look back at him, scanning the warehouse for the two that were supposed to be watching them.

"No, it's fine. Not everyone can be cool under pressure." She said smoothly, squinting into the deep shadows on the ground floor, sharpening her vision with as much of her magic as she dared, though there weren't any people hiding that she could see. They will be somewhere that they can easily see us, but won't have to pay much attention...

"Excuse me?" He asked, taken aback. Marinette began scanning the catwalks above them, craning her neck and analyzing them for hiding spots. Or rather, for comfortable areas to hang out and pretend to be working. Clearly, these cultists have gotten too used to their routine. Which is a bad sign for all the previous sacrifices, but good for us.

"I mean, it's not every day that you get kidnapped and hung from the ceiling, so your reaction is understandable." She turned her head to the vigilante after determining that the lookouts were not visible, who was looking at her, the feeling of incredulity coming through loud and clear.  "Though I would have expected you to be a bit more used to this kind of thing." She spoke with a note of scorn in her voice. He was the one to lead the cultists outside her apartment in the first place. She was just trying to take out the trash when he flopped over unconscious right in front of her. And Red Hood was unnecessarily heavy. And muscular. And well proportioned. And tall. Is that a tailored leather jacket? It looks well made, even through the chains. He would make a great model, honestly. Broad shoulders, long legs, nice chest- Gah! No! Focus!

"Wh- it-, no I am not used to waking up chained to the ceiling." He said with a growl in his voice that she could almost feel in her chest. Marinette suppressed a slight shiver. Why do warehouses always have drafts?

"Really? Huh." She said absently, looking around the grimy and broken windows that lined the upper wall above the truck doors. Unloading dock, I think it's called?  "I got the impression that Gothamites were unfazed by stuff like this." Beside her, Red Hood scoffed, head turning to look below them and presumably analyze the cultists.

"Being kidnapped, sure. Happens all the time. Sometimes, it's even on purpose. Being tied to the ceiling, not so much." The obnoxious red helmet ticked to the side, eyeing her presumably. "What, is this normal where you come from?" From the small huff she could tell the question was clearly meant to be rhetorical, but Marinette answered it anyway.

"Eh, it's not my first time." she looked down at the ritual circle and 'bored' cultists who were completely ignoring the two, having opened up another box filled with what seemed to be... bags of gumballs? Interesting..  "At least it's just cultists and there is no swimming pool full of boiling soup." Marinette shifted, attempting to regain feeling in her fingers without putting her full weight on her bruised ribs. She had never wished to be transformed more than she did right now. Heck, she would even take the old onesie she used to call a superhero suit. She really did feel like she was about to be split in half. "Though whoever tied this rope did a much worse job than Kung Food." She said with a grimace, rocking from side to side and scooching the rope downwards a little bit. It stung, and the balance was a little more precarious now, and she just knew it was going to be hell on her back and core muscles, but at least it didn't hurt as much, so she took that as a win.

"... please tell me you are joking." Red Hood asked with a note of desperation in his voice. She grimaced, thinking back to the wafting steam and the smell of the since renamed 'Marinette Soup'.

"I wish I was." Marinette said, resigned. The thought was sweet in theory but thinking back, having a soup that you almost got cooked into renamed after you is pretty morbid.

"Jesus fucking Christ." He muttered with what she could only assume was mild distress. She knew the feeling.

"It's fine." She said, stretching out her fingers that wanted nothing more to curl in on themselves from the lack of blood flow. Marinette twisted her wrists and reached her hands in a way that just barely let her nails latch onto the poorly tied knot of the hemp rope. Seriously? This is just sad. I don't even need help from the Kwami to get out of this.

"It is very much fucking not." Red hood said pointedly while, assumedly, pinning her with a glare. Not that I can exactly go anywhere yet, anyway.

"I would shrug if I could, but as you can see, I am physically disinclined to do so." She looked at him with a sardonic smile, vaguely gesturing with her head at their general predicament. Eyes unfocusing, she concentrated on the feeling of the rope latched underneath her fingernails and started pulling at it.

"Could you be any more nonchalant about this? That is supposed to be my job." The deadpan response so monotone it sounded nearly robotic through the voice changer caused her to let out a small huff of a laugh. Ow, that hurt. Come on, you stupid rope, work with me here!

"Would you rather I be freaking out, screaming and crying about how we are going to die tragically?" She asked, pulling a face as one of her hands started cramping from the curled position. Ow ow ow ow-

"Absolutely not." Hood said without hesitation. So close... YES!

"Then I don't see what you have to be complaining about here." Marinette smiled triumphantly as she finally felt the rope around her wrists loosen, stretching the discomfort away as much as she could. Red Hood was silent for several long moments as she took in a few deep breaths, attempting to shake the few strands of hair that had escaped her high bun out of her face. Okay, wrists are free. Next are the ankles, then I can slip out of the rope and climb up onto the catwalk without falling to my death/serious injury in the process. Easy peasy. I just need to-

"You are something else, you know that?" He said in a tone that she didn't quite know how to name, distorted as it was. Marinette paused before she could start to move onto the next step, looking into the expressionless helmet of Red Hood that somehow still failed to hide that she had his full attention. She blinked several times, confused. "I don't think I have ever seen such a pretty smile, especially not in a situation like this." He clarified. Marinette couldn't stop the pink rising to her cheeks, and she had absolutely no idea what to do about the sudden flutter in her chest, but what she did know was that this hot vigilante/crime-lord had just(maybe?) given her what sounded like a compliment, and she needed to say something.

"Why thank you. You aren't too shabby yourself." Marinette said, realizing as soon as the words left her that her automatic response might have not made sense.

"... Thanks?" Red Hood said, tilting his head slightly. And then Marinette opened her stupid, stupid face hole.

"I mean- you have quite the impressive mouth on you." She said, followed by a long moment of silence as he stared at her. "WAIT- NO! I didn't mean that! I meant- well- I didn't not meant that, I'm sure your mouth is just fine- but not like fine fine, or it could be, I'm not saying it isn't, it's just with the whole bucket-head thing I can't tell either way so like- I'm not commenting on how nice your mouth is- I just- What I am trying to say is that your ability to use your mouth is what is impressive." The vigilante made a faint choking noise, and Marinette had approximately the half a second it took for her to register what she just said before wishing that she could cataclysm herself in the face. "NO! WAIT! NO! That's not what I meant! It was- talking- using mouth, but not like-" she started sputtering, words tumbling out of her without control, and the faint choking noise coming from Red Hood turned into full blown coughing.  "SWEAR WORDS!" She finally shouted, face bright red and a shrill note in her panicked voice echoing faintly through the warehouse. None of the cultists so much as looked up, clearly ignoring them, for which she was thankful. Oh my Kwami, kill me. Please. Right now. Strike me down without remorse.

Red Hood was gasping for air beside her in between wheezing laughter and coughs that rattled the catwalk above. Marinette honestly couldn't remember a time she had ever been more embarrassed. Not even in Lycée. Honestly, if Hawkmoth were still around, she might be in danger of being akumatized out of pure embarrassment. A high pitched whine escaped from the back of her throat as she glared at the vigilante, trying to hide her misery behind anger.

"Don't laugh at me!" She tried to sound intimidating, but it came out more petulant.

"Fuckin'," he said in between wheezes, "swear words!" If he were standing, rather than hanging, Red Hood would undoubtably be doubled over in laughter. As it was, he was curled up in the air in the shape of an unnecessarily beefy shrimp. Marinette was just thankful that he wasn't looking at her, or she might just explode. In an effort to distract herself, she quickly kicked her legs up behind her and began untying the rope around her ankles, putting her focus into remaining balanced rather than the laughter beside her. Unfortunately, it only took a few seconds and a couple precarious wobbles to free her legs, leaving the loop around her torso and the two free strands in her hand. Oh, and the Red Hood who was taking in deep breaths like it was an Olympic sport.

"I will fight you." She said, something burning in her chest as she glared at him.

"You're adorable." he said, getting his laughter under control.

"I will fight you, and I will win." Her scowl deepened as she glared into the lenses of his helmet.

"I appreciate the threat," he quipped back, voice filled with mirth, "but no offense, you look about as dangerous as a feather duster." Face still bright red and heart still pounding painfully, Marinette's eyes narrowed. Then, she smiled sweetly.

"I take full offense and I will make you eat those words." She said with the full confidence of a Ladybug.

"Uh huh. And how exactly are you going to do that?" Hood said teasingly, sounding as if he were just entertaining her. Her only response was to grin toothily, tip forward, and then fall.

Marinette allowed the precarious balance she had carefully kept for the past however-long it had been to fail and slide through the single loop of rope. The friction of the rough hemp fibers burned as it scraped along her arms, but it was worth it to hear his panicked gasp and the rattle of chains as her bent knees caught the rope(ow- that'll bruise), the only thing keeping her from plummeting two stories. She swung back and forth a couple times, building momentum as she allowed her muscles to relax for the first time since she got kidnapped and Red Hood hissed out something unintelligible from above her. With one last swing and a flex of her poor, abused core muscles, she sat up and grabbed the rope, climbing her way onto the catwalk with little trouble. She let out a small sigh of relief at finally having semi-solid ground underneath her feet. She hasn't exactly been afraid of heights since before her time as a superhero, but being in the air for so long get stressful, especially without her transformation.

"What the hell were you thinking- Are you okay?!" He asked somewhat frantically, the catwalk under her feet swaying as he twisted in an attempt to look up at her. No. That fucking hurt. She smiled before replying cheerfully.

"Of course I am! What, worried for my little feather duster arms?" She dropped the two rope pieces on the catwalk and then reached up to undo her bun which had become tragically loose from the kidnapping.

"Oh, ha ha." he muttered with a sigh of mild relief, "Point made. Okay, so it looks like there is an exit near the stairs which you can go through those offices to get to. It is really dark, so if you are careful and stick to the shadows, you should be able to get out and find a way to call Commissioner Gordon and tell him to-"

"Nope." She interrupted curtly, holding her hair-tie in between her teeth and running her fingers through her hair a couple times.

"-What?" Red Hood asked, tensing. Marinette grabbed the hair-tie before responding.

"I said no, I am not going to do that." She took a deep breath, shaking her head side to side to test the security of her new high ponytail. Good enough. "First of all, you weren't awake when they brought us in here, but those doors sound like hell itself trying to escape into the mortal realm via rusty hinges, meaning there is no way that I can get out without being noticed." Hood grunted disgruntledly, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Marinette took the opportunity too look over everything from this new vantage point, now just barely able to see into the dirty windows of the offices behind them, one of which had faint light coming from within.

"There are other doors and windows, you could find a way out." he said pointedly, head turning briefly to glance at the rope she had been hanging from previously. She couldn't quite see any movement in them, but the farthest one had a broken window, so she could only assume that the office with the light was where Jacob and Mark were.

"Second of all," she continued, "there are two cultists who are meant to be watching us, and no matter how negligent they are, they still managed to catch you. From what I have overheard, they have done this enough to have a solid routine, so they can't be all stupid. If I were to leave, we would only have a limited amount of time before they noticed." Down below, Dolly and Judgy seemed to have gotten bored of looking through crates and were both hovering over a phone while leaning against the foldout table, watching something. The third cultist that appeared to be on watch had tucked themself into a dark corner and seemed to be taking a nap against a pillar. Perfect, let's hope they stay like that.

"You would still have time to get away and call for help. The streets are a maze, they wouldn't be able to find you once you got away." Red Hood said with a light growl. Marinette could feel the catwalk move underfoot as he shifted slightly, swaying back and forth like a cranky pendulum. Her eyes flicked to each of the cultists down below, all looking consumed by their respective tasks.

"Yes, however, the chances of them just continuing with their ritual and ignoring the missing sacrifice are not great. They could panic and scatter, rush through and sacrifice you with a half done ritual, or any other not great outcome. So again, a time limit. Which brings me to point number three," She said, holing up three fingers. "We are currently in the warehouse district, which is a forever-and-a-mile walk away from anywhere I could find someone willing to lend me a phone. Even if I were to walk right out of here and they don't notice, they would have plenty of time to finish up their evil scheme and get the heck out of dodge before help arrives."

"Drive, then." Hood shot back. Marinette held back a wince, her eye twitching instead, thinking about the last time she drove a car. Or, tried to drive a car.

Marinette and Grandma Gina looked into the turbulent lake, drenched and covered in mud, listening to the slowly approaching sirens, smelling of burnt rubber and smoke. The previous panic fueled screaming echoed in her ears now that it was silent. Her Nona turned to her, pale and somewhat shaky, but with a smile on her face.

"I won't tell your parents if you don't."

"Deal."

"Do I look like I know how to hotwire a car? Or how to pick pocket someone's keys?" She asked rhetorically, already knowing what he thought she looked like. 'Adorable.' 

I'll show him 'Adorable.'

"Then," he said slowly, posture wary and tone frustrated, "What exactly are you going to do?"

"I already told you." Marinette replied, leaning down and looking directly into the glowing eyes of the Red Hood's helmet with a smile, "I am going to make you eat your words." Marinette didn't allow him to respond, standing in one swift motion and walking quietly across the rickety metal and towards the open archway of the offices behind them. 

Time to get to work.

Marinette was careful to keep her steps light an even, hand ghosting over the steel cable railing that ran along the side as she made her way towards the office with the intact, if filthy, window. She was fairly confident that was where the two cultists that were meant to be watching them, Mark and Jacob from what Dolly said, were hiding based off of process of elimination. Once she took them out, she could take her time with the rest since it will be less likely that they will notice her missing. With how adamant these cultists were about not looking up, she could almost think they were video game characters. The time she had spent hanging from that damn rope wasn't completely wasted, as she was able to put together the beginnings of a plan for how to do that without outing her superhero abilities or skills. Sure, what she had said to Red Hood wasn't *completely* truthful, as she was certain she could find a phone and call for help in ten minutes if she really wanted to, but...

"-no offense, you look about as dangerous as a feather duster."

That's not happening. She had something to prove.

Okay, so steps. She thought as she reached the wall of the office and creeping towards the window in a crouch, trusting the darkness and the cultists inattentiveness to hide her. First, take out the lookouts.

Marinette looked over her shoulder and out into the shadowed building, finding the darkest place from the perspective of the window and shifting herself into that space before slowly lifting her eyes over the dusty window ledge. Her gaze flicked quickly through the room, dimly lit by a small camping lantern on an old desk situated just in front of the door with a chair on either side. On the opposite wall was a couch where the two cultists were-

Marinette jerked downwards, flattening herself against the filthy brick wall with a newly bright red face. That was a lot of- Where did they get the- Okay! Not thinking about that! That's fine. This is fine.

…

"At least they won't notice I'm missing..." She took in several deep breaths, staring intently at the patterns of rust on the catwalk's railing. 

"I am never going to unsee that."

After a few long moments, Marinette crept her way around the edge of the office, through the arch and into the hallway. The door to the office the cultists were in was closed, *thank the Kwami*, but the empty one was cracked open. The stairs downward were straight ahead, swathed in darkness and shadows. There was less echo, and it was in general quieter in the hallway except for faint- not thinking about it. 

"Step one, focus on step one." She whispered to herself, straightening up and slipping through the cracked door into the empty office, careful not to catch her clothes on the door handle. This office wasn't as empty as the other one, and seemed to be much more dusty, though that might be attributed to the broken window more than anything. There was a desk in this one as well, though it was pushed against the wall on the far side with paper scattered all over the floor on front of it. Instead of a couch(Not thinking about it), this one had a stack of chairs, a duffle bag, and a hefty looking toolbox. Dumped dead center in the room was a frankly ridiculous pile of guns, knives, and what looked like a miniature version of a harpoon. In a much smaller pile next to it was her purse.

"Tikki!" She whisper-shouted, diving forward and scooping up the bag.

"Marinette!" the small Kwami excitedly yelled back, muffled through the fabric. Once it was opened, she whizzed through the air to hug her holder's cheek.

"Are you okay? Did anyone see you? It's not another Chloe situation, is it?" She blabbed with worry until the Kwami pulled back and smiled reassuringly.

"No. I'm okay, no one saw me." Marinette let out a sigh of relief, slouching where she stood. "Are you okay, Marinette?"

"A little bruised, but fine." She replied, examining her arms for a moment to see what was going to be a line of ugly bruises and some serious rope burn, before turning back to her friend with manic energy. "But, Tikki, I have been challenged!"

"Challenged?" She echoed with a tilt of her head and a sparkle in her eye.

"Red Hood thinks that I am 'as dangerous as a feather duster' which is frankly ridiculous- just because I am small does not mean I am not mighty!" Marinette said with a pout and a defiantly raised fist, to which Tikki giggled.

"So what are you going to do to meet this challenge?" the little goddess asked, floating higher in excitement. In response, Marinette bounced on the balls of her feet with a near feral grin.

"Here's the plan-!"

"Hey, Oracle, have you heard anything from Hood tonight?" Nightwing asked as he swung between two of Bludhaven's buildings and away from a foiled break-in. He was still catching his breath from the quick but brutal fight. He managed to leave unscathed for the most part, barring one lucky hit the woman with a crowbar managed to get on his bicep that left a shallow, if jagged, gash and was already forming a nasty bruise. It was going to make his night job rather unpleasant the next week or so, which wasn't great, seeing as he and Red Hood were meant to bust up a cult that had had been causing trouble tomorrow.

"Last I herd from him, he was chasing you through the house with a serving plate." Came Oracle's quick reply, the sound of clacking keys hiding under her flippant and amused voice. Nightwing rolled his eyes with a fond smile as he alighted upon the edge of a building, taking a moment to sit down and rest.

"Oh, har har. He was supposed to be doing recon for our bust tomorrow, I want to make sure he hasn't gotten himself in trouble." He said, settling down and kicking a leg out over the edge of the roof.

"From what I heard," Red Robin chimed in, "There was no 'our' about it. Hood made it very clear that he was going to go after them without you."

"Mhm," Oracle hummed in agreement, "I distinctly remember something being said about 'forsaken bonds of siblinghood' and that you are 'beyond dead' to him." Nightwing remembered that. He had been so excited at Jason actually referring to them as family out loud that he hadn't really paid much attention to what was actually said beyond that until afterwards, though.

"Oh, please. He was just cranky because he was too slow and I got the last of Agent A's cookies." Nightwing said with an eye roll. "He wouldn't go after a dangerous cult by himself just because of that."

"Are you sure about that? This is Hood we are talking about." Red Robin said skeptically. Nightwing opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off.

"Chatter on comms." Came Batman's gruff voice, silencing everyone. "Oracle, check in with Hood."

"Already done. His comm is off and all of his trackers are showing that he is in his safehouse on the border of the Narrows." She replied promptly, there was a pause as more keys clacked in the background.

"His security system is armed, too, with a window having been opened and closed at around eight forty-seven pm and no activity since." The silence between them was loud as the vigilantes digested the information.

"I'm on my way." Nightwing said gravely as he sprung up from his spot and shot his grapple gun in the direction of his motorcycle.

"Enroute." Batman grunted over the sound of revving engine.

"I'll try and track down his location." Oracle said, her amusement from before gone.

After a few seconds, Red robin chimed in with a deadpan voice.

"Even after all these years, you still underestimate the pettiness of this family."

Nightwing's sigh was lost to the buffeting wind as he swung down to the streets below.

Locking the two lookouts in the office was probably the easiest step of any plan that Marinette has had in years, being able to check that off after simply sliding a chair underneath the handle in order to lock the two inside. Thank all the Kwami I don't actually have to go in there and interrupt whatever it is they are doing... Still not thinking about it!

The next step, while still relatively simple, wasn't going to be nearly as easy.

Step One: Take out the lookouts, Check. Step Two: Gather Supplies.

Which means finding supplies, which means sneaking past the 19 remaining cultists on the main floor without being caught or seen. Simple as can be, but not exactly easy. Add in pilfering through and opening the many crates, some right next to the main area for the cultists? Not easy in the slightest. Thankfully, Marinette wasn't exactly someone to give up that quickly, and she wasn't alone.

There was a quick glimmer of light that burst through the dim room and a tingling feeling in her fingers as the summoning spell completed, burning up the small sticky note she had drawn on and replacing it with the inert foxtail pendant, dark orange fading to a white tip separated by five segments, hanging off of a delicate gold chain. As she pulled on the necklace however, its appearance changed to be purely silver with the segments disappearing, the bright glow of another Kwami appearing before her flashing through the shadows.

"Guardian." the Kwami greeted, bowing respectfully in the air before looking around with his bright purple eyes, taking in the dirty office.

"Hello Trixx." Marinette responded with a smirk, "Ready to cause some mischief?" The Kwami's ears perked up as he smiled brightly.

"I always am, Guardian! What did you have in mind?" He responded eagerly, following Marinette as she crept to the cracked office window.

"Okay, down there are nineteen cultists who we need to take down before they manage to activate their ritual and sacrifice the vigilante who I got captured with." she began, pointing out the shifting shapes moving through the harsh brightness of the floodlights and Red Hood, who was mostly obscured by the rusty catwalks and shadows. "We are going to need to get them all at once, or else we will be caught, and I can't transform without revealing my identity."

"I am happy to lend my Illusions to keep you hidden from their senses until it is time to pounce!" Trixx said eagerly, twirling around in the air, illusory sparks dancing in between his paws.

"Thanks Trixx, but I will be channeling your magic this time, we don't want another dancing Eifel Tower incident." The Kwami pouted, but agreed, diving into the inside of her jacket and joining Tikki in the small pocket dimension sewn in there. Marinette took in a fortifying breath, strengthening her connection to the two Kwami and feeling the magic course through her. She *probably* pull this off without it, but there was no way that she was going to let any opportunity pass her by. She promised Red Hood that he would eat his words, and she was going to serve them to him on a silver platter. With a final exhale, she turned away from the window and went to examine what she had in the room that she could use.

The first thing she checked were the drawers of the desk, pulling them open slowly to make as little noise as possible, despite the rusty ball bearings. It was well worth it too, for the sight that greeted her.

"Yes!" she exclaimed in a whisper, pulling out one of the three and a half rolls of duct tape and an unopened reel of fishing line, ideas already springing to mind. "This couldn't be more perfect!" she whispered with a grin, looking in the remaining drawers. Aside from the various bits of paper, she pulled out a container of thumbtacks and paperclips, six carabiner clips(two of them being broken), an unopened packet of yellow sticky-notes(she already had some light pink ones in her purse, but she wasn't going to pass up more), and an oily can of WD-40.

At the opposite end of the room, were the duffle bag and the toolbox, which aside from the pile of weapons that she assumed to be Red Hood's, seemed to be the only other potentially useful things here. Marinette started with the toolbox, finding a couple of hammers, a mallet, a huge red monkey wrench, some screwdrivers, a jar of assorted rusty screws and nails, and a thing of Allen wrenches. Out of everything, she only took the monkey wrench and set it with the other useful objects on the desk. Next was the duffle bag, which when she opened it, revealed itself to be full of a bunch of other duffle bags.

"Huh..." she muttered, staring at it and running her fingers along the hefty cloth. It's a good thing that it is cloth, and not plastic. Though this does feel like polyester, it won't have that crinkly sound whenever it is moved, so I can use it to transport things from the crates downstairs. With a definitive nod to herself she stood, dumping the extra bags on the desk and pulling the now empty bag's strap over her shoulder.

"Okay, here we go!" she whispered to herself before slipping out of the room and towards the dark stairs.

Jason didn't know whether to be amused, pissed, or suspicious, so for the moment he was settled decidedly on 'bewildered'.

The cult had been somewhat out of the ordinary from the beginning. The string of disappearances that led to him finding them were, sadly, not too uncommon. The cult aspect of it however, was a bit of a shakeup from the usual human trafficking, territory disputes, or straight up murder cases they normally take on. Just different enough to make it interesting. What *hadn't* been ordinary was the glowing tranquilizer darts that could go through his Bat-approved armor. Bruce was not going to be happy about that when he found out. Hell, Jason wasn't happy about it now.

All of his memories from that point on were fuzzy in that familiar way that could only be caused by drugs, but he remembers getting away. At least, he thinks he remembers getting away, but clearly he didn't seeing as he woke up dangling from the ceiling next to some tiny, blue-haired French woman.

A tiny, blue-haired French woman who Jason was stuck watching sneak around the shadowed edges of some warehouse with a duffle bag slung over her shoulder and a smile on her face, surrounded by murderous cultists.

He was surprised with the skill she moved around with. Despite her confidence, he had expected her to get caught near immediately, and was mentally preparing himself for a whole slew of situations that could arise from that inevitability. But, much to his chagrin, she practically waltzed right past the cultists without so much as a curious head turn in her direction. Her style of stealth was much different than what he was accustomed to. She didn't meld into the shadows like the bats did, but she moved silently and with a confident sort of grace, using her surroundings to their fullest. Her path around the edges were calculated, he could tell, keeping obstructions in between her and the cultists as much as possible. She even climbed over and across a few crates to stay out of the peripheral of the two occupied with their phones, keeping her weight on the corners and junctions to avoid making noise or breaking the old wooden boards. It was something that Jason himself wouldn't have been able to do(not that he would need to in the first place), and it spoke of either years of practice sneaking around, or a lot of talent. All in all, he couldn't help but be grudgingly impressed. Not to mention suspicious.

She was clearly more experienced in these situations than he first thought, even including that concerning comment about some ridiculous food based(and possibly cannibalistic, which is a red flag for multiple reasons) villain she mentioned, and the damn Bat Patented Paranoia that Bruce managed to instill in every one of his wards was coming to light. Who was she? Is she a threat? An ally? Or just some random girl with more skills than sense? He didn't know and that was bothering him, so he watched.

It's not like I can do much else.

And he had tried. Despite how easily she had slipped through the rope they tied her with and climbed up with a strength and fluidity unexpected from her tiny frame, Jason remained stuck in his swaddle of chains. After searching for his hidden weapons when he had first woke up and finding them missing, he had reluctantly reached for his backup comm, before remembering the small argument with Dick he had that led him to stupidly spitefully take on this cult by himself in the first place, as well as leaving his comm and trackers in a safehouse along with a rather heartfelt 'fuck you' note. So, there was no way for him to get out, no way to call for his fam- the bats. His whole escape rested on the shoulders of the four-foot-tall-at-best, blue-haired girl with a smile too carefree for Gotham's rough edges and baked-in soot. The girl who was currently carrying around an empty duffle bag doing god knows what as she somehow silently pried open a large crate with confident motions and said mischievous grin, as if there wasn't a cult of psychos one mistake away from catching her.

No, he wasn't worried about her. He was frustrated that he was currently damseled. There is a difference, Dick.

"I already told you. I am going to make you eat your words." 

And... maybe a little intrigued.

Though, despite his years of vigilante experience, time on the streets, growing up in Wayne manor, and his training with the League of Assassins, he had absolutely no fucking idea what she was going to do with a duffle bag full of Harley Quinn inspired rubber chickens.

It took nearly all of Marinette's willpower not to giggle with glee when she found the crates of rubber chickens in her search for the Joker-inspired dolls(Which, seriously, who's idea even was that??). They were about three crates full that she could identify, all with the same logo as the boxes full of creepy-laughing-fake-clown-things and they were all fortunately placed near-ish to the opposite staircase that she came down from. This side of the warehouse was more crowded, mostly covered in pallets of cardboard boxes and some crates interspersed throughout.

This is perfect!

It took her a few trips and a couple close calls to get enough of the rubber chickens up to the office without accidentally setting them off, but thankfully she didn't have to sneak around the main floor for it, using the catwalks above instead. Admittedly, she used a bit of Luck to avoid the overly creaky paths and get away with it, but no one else needs to know that. Gathering up the neon-green-haired-monstrosities was quicker since she already knew where they were, but a tad more difficult seeing as the boxes were just behind and to the side of Judgy and Dolly(She could practically feel Red Hood's stress while she was doing that). For that, she called on more of Trixx's power to stay as silent as possible. Next, she went though the boxes farthest from the cultists, sifting through them quickly and making several trips up to her designated storage office.

Step four of The Plan had gained some wonderful additions in the form of metal BB-gun pellets, jacks, bouncy balls, and the gumballs that she had seen the cultists looking at as well, but she was getting ahead of herself.

There was one thing that she almost passed up, though, but the smallest of tugs from her Luck caused her to take a second look.

And by the Kwami, is she glad she did.

If the abundance of warnings on the package hadn't peaked her interest, the bold lettered label she read afterward sure did.

'FAST ACTING, WATER ACTIVATED SUPER GLUE POWDER'

"Hehehehehehe" Marinette couldn't help but giggle near breathlessly from where she crouched, shrouded in the darkness of the stairs, holding onto the sturdy plastic container with an evil grin.

Bruce loved his kids, he really did.

If he for some reason, in some way, ever lost all of his memories or sense of self, he would remember that. If there were nothing else left of him, be it from mind control, magic, head trauma, or for whatever reason, having to sell his soul to some malicious entity, all it would take is just looking at one of them and he would know.

Bruce loved his kids.

He loved them when it wasn't easy. Through all the fights, be them together against criminals and supervillains, or against each other with harsh words and silent treatments. Through moral differences, his failures and communication issues. He loved them when it was stressful. Through all the injuries and sickness, tough nights on patrol, prank wars that cost him thousands of dollars in repairs or teasing that ends in brawls over the dining table. He loved them when it was easy, too. Family dinners, game nights, public outings, or just working quietly in the same space.

Bruce loved his kids, and wouldn't trade them for anything.

But sometimes?

Sometimes he really wished he could give them back.

"This is Red Hood speaking, bringing you your top of the hour weather report," came the all too glib sounding voice from the speakers mounted in the corners of the warmly lit room. "Be careful out there tonight folks, because it looks like the clouds are heavy with betrayal and the threat of tyrannical and patronizing vigilantes!" The fake newscaster voice called out, echoing around the bare off-white walls that were splashed with black paint. Some were splotches or droplets, abstract Rorschach-esque compositions surrounded by messy and dripping quotes. The section directly opposite the window where he stood read 'Et tu, brute?', surrounded by twenty-seven kitchen knives, stabbed into the drywall.

"Condescension is an epidemic, easily spread through contact of those near you, so he careful to keep limited contact as to not fall prey to it's effects," Hood's voice spoke, glee very clear in his tone. Next to the circle of knives there were two more quotes on either side; 'Stab the body and it heals, but injure the heart and the wound lasts a lifetime', and 'For there to be betrayal, there would have to have been trust first.' The second quote he recognized to be from the hunger games, though Bruce couldn't quite pinpoint the origins of first.

"If you are hearing this, you clearly didn't take my message to leave well enough alone seriously," the newscaster voice dropped, leaving Red Hood's sounding all too proud of himself. "To whom it may concern; consider all future collaborations null and voided, you are all dead to me, I never had a family, yada yada, etcetera etcetera. Any who enter my territory are personally liable for any and all actions or damages against them, including but not limited to inconveniences and humiliation via glitter, slime, paint, and dye. Please vacate the premises or suffer the consequences. Have a pleasant day."

"Oh, and tell Nightwing that he is a little bitch."

Bruce spent several moments to just stand in the empty apartment, staring at the pile of trackers on the table laid out in the shape of a middle finger. He sighed.

I love my kids.

Step two of Marinette's plan was coming together well, and she was close to moving on to the next phase.

The good part of hanging from the ceiling for longer than was even mildly comfortable was that she could see a lot with the bird's eye view. Many parts of her plan had gaps when she first started out, since she didn't know all of the materials available to her, but step two fixed that quite easily.

If there was one thing that Marinette had learned from her years as a Superheroine, especially one who fought a villain that preyed on people's emotions, it was how people reacted to sudden danger. Adrenaline does funny things to a person, taking perfectly rational thought and turning it into blind action. Fight or flight is a strong, instinctual reaction for all kinds of creatures, not just humans. When there is nowhere to run? You fight. When there is nothing to fight? You run. And when you run, what is it that you look for?

Step One: Neutralize Lookouts, Check. Step Two: Gather Supplies, Check(mostly). Step Three: The Path of Least Resistance.

There are four main exits and nineteen total cultists on the main floor. Two normal doors on each side underneath the offices that lead out of the building, and two large truck doors. With no real way to predict exactly who would go where, she has to assume that the best case scenario is each door having four or five cultists exit through them, and her traps being able to take out all of them at that number. Realistically, that isn't feasible. It could be all of them go through the same path, and most escape, or it could be that they scatter so far, they bypass the majority of her traps, leaving all of her work to be for naught. With how things were now, there were too many variables, too many obstacles, and too many unknowns. 

But this was Marinette. This was Ladybug. And it was time to do what a Ladybug does best; even the odds.

Marinette crouched on one of the catwalks that was hung in the direct center of the warehouse, just to the side of the cultists' ritual, her small travel sketchbook in hand. She was drawing out her plan and doing her best to ignore the prickling feeling of Red Hood's eyes on her as she marked out the best way to do this.

Two pillars on either side of the circle with the table and minifridge set nearest to the one towards the back side of the warehouse. The other one is down and to the side of the right most truck door, giving the least amount of room for error. To the left, further out and underneath the offices is the door we came in from, and it is the most likely exit that they would choose, seeing as it is at least marginally familiar, easier to open than the truck doors, and second closest. On the opposite side of the warehouse is the other normal door, which has the benefit of being in the darkest section of the warehouse and having a much longer path to set traps up on, but less likely to be chosen...

She leaned forward against the thin railing of the catwalk, staring down at the activity below and tapping her pencil against her chin as she thought. She heard a rattle of chains and couldn't help but lift her gaze to look at the source. The faintly glowing eyes of Red Hood's helmet stared at her intently from where he hung. She smirked at him, giving a little wave with her fingers, before an idea came to her and she looked back to the rightmost truck door.

If I block that one off and make a longer curved path from the side of the circle, it gives more of a chance to take out a few on the path. I could... Yes, that'll work.

Marinette quickly doodled a whole bunch of little boxes on her paper.

Then I could use the fishing line here and here, then all of the jacks, pellets, gum and bouncy balls on this side, then- hmm...

She looked up with narrowed eyes, examining all of the rafters and catwalks above where she was planning for the paths to go. Then smiled. That would work perfectly. Within another minute or so her sketches were finished and she stood, feeling giddy to see the end results of her plan. Before turning back to head down she looked again at Red Hood's intense stare, and gave him a wink.

Marinette spent the next half an hour moving boxes from one pile to another, shifting crates, and pushing pallets to create solid looking barriers, all while trying to remain as silent as possible, and there had only been a couple hiccups along the way. Along with a couple interesting discoveries. The first had been while she was creating the longest path, creating a good number of empty pallets for one of her planned traps.

Marinette had stopped as she brushed up against a solid feeling thing wrapped in plastic, and took a moment to examine the pallet next to her. It was hard to see in the dark and with the little light there was reflecting harshly off of the plastic wrap, so it took her a few seconds to figure out what it was she was looking at. Two adjacent pallets stacked taller than she was(Not that that was difficult, but good luck to whomever mentioned it cough cough Red Hood), completely made up of heavy paint cans. Marinette looked around, noticing that the path she had been making came directly toward the paint can pallets. There was no way in hell that she would be able to move them out of the way, let alone without being noticed, but... She looked up at the catwalk directly above, to the sides where she could curve the path around the bend and at the conveniently placed pillar, and back at the straight stretch of space she had been making. She smiled as another trap added itself to her list.

The second discovery was while she was clearing the shorter pathway towards rightmost door. To counteract the small amount of distance she had to work with, she decided to split this one in half with what was essentially an island of boxes that tapered off just before the doors. She was doing the shorter path first, despite it being closer to the cultists, because where the longer path was meant to go was filled with heavy crates of what she thinks are car parts which, for some reason, smelled faintly like smoke. Add the fact that Nappy was napping against the pillar over there, she didn't want to risk getting found this early. Needless to say, she was working extra hard to make as little sound as possible.

Marinette's heart had leapt into her throat when something shifted under her foot with a faint metal clank sound, very clearly not the solid concrete ground she had been expecting. Her head snapped up as she froze, straining her ears and glancing around her hidden spot in the shadows to determine if anyone heard. She was still for several long moments, sounds of the cultists washing over her, before determining that it was safe. With careful movements and a momentarily stronger draw on Trixx's power, she moved back slowly. Looking down, she found a slightly warped metal plate that was about the same size as her with a handle in one side. Curiously, she shifted the box she had been moving out of the way and gently pulled the metal plate up.

A shadowed abyss. An all consuming void. A dark, dank hole.

It was a maintenance tunnel, right in the middle of her path.

Marinette gently set the metal covering back down, mind racing. What could she do with this? It was much too good of an opportunity to pass up, and thankfully, she had an idea. Near the back of the warehouse, she could remember seeing a pile of cloth tarps. She could use those if she could just find something stronger than the fishing line...

An idea popped into her head. Very likely a bad idea but... well, she's sure Red Hood couldn't be too mad about her taking apart his weird harpoon-gun if it is to save him from being sacrificed, right? He probably has extras anyway.

She glanced up at the vigilante, then went back to moving boxes with a quiet snicker.

Jason still had no fucking idea what this woman was doing, and it was stressing him the fuck out. His escape rested solely on the shoulders of a woman playing high stakes ring-around-the-cultist instead of calling the cops like any sane person would do!

Jason wasn't as stupid to think that she couldn't have found a phone like she claimed. In face, he was certain she already had one in her purse, which, had to be some kind of pocket dimension to fit all that shit inside of it. Why would someone carry around a whole ass sketchbook and unopened roll of fishing line of all things?

(Jason was ignoring the fact that he knew several people who would, could, and have carried around that and much weirder. In all honesty, he just wanted something to be annoyed about. It was cathartic.)

It had been about an hour or so since she practically skipped her way out of being kidnapped like it was no big deal, and he had spent it with nothing to do but become more appalled and concerned by the second. If it weren't for the fact that he was watching this happen live and in the flesh, he wouldn't believe some of the stuff she managed to get away with. 

The blue-haired woman(he really needed to find out her name) had nearly gotten herself caught already. Not by climbing up one of the support pillars like a spider which the ones on watch missed by conveniently turning away from at the right moment, or making a frankly ridiculously sized pile of boxes in front of the truck door which the sound of was drowned out by the fridge seemingly having a mechanical seizure, or even moving a crate right fucking behind two of the cultists who somehow didn't notice because of a supposedly funny video on their phones! No, she almost got caught by a fucking sneeze.

She had been picking up some pile of cloth from a dark corner that she was undoubtedly going to use for some weird-ass thing that would make perfect sense well after he finally managed to finally get the fuck down and out of this god damned warehouse. But, from his vantage point, Jason could see that in getting so comfortable moving around in enemy territory(helped by the fact that she must be the luckiest person in Gotham. Seriously, share some of that with the rest of us, would ya?) the blue-haired woman had gotten complacent.

He winced as the fabric slipped from her fingers and sent a massive cloud of dust right into her face. Both he and the woman tensed as a long moment passed, Jason in anxiousness, while the woman seemed to be winding up, holding her hands tightly over her face. Then, she sneezed, full body convulsing and letting out a squeak that even he could hear from his vantage point.

…that was adorable.

One of the cultists blow looked of from their phone and looked in the direction of the noise, then asked their partner something.

Oh shit-

"Hey, did you hear squeaking?" Dolly asked, head raising from where she was hunched over her phone. Marinette felt panic rising as she dropped into a crouch as fast as she could, pressing her side into the heavy crate beside her, holding her nose and blinking through watery eyes, the dust making her entire face feel as if it were being attacked by tiny, sword-wielding specks.

"No? What are you talking about?" Judgy responded, looking up from his phone, pausing some video that she could faintly hear playing through their earbuds. Marinette's sinuses stung and eyes watered as she took deep breaths through her mouth, full body seizing several times with the force of holding back the sneezes. She made as little noise as possible, slowly crawling around the edge of a box to be out of sight of the cultists. Owowowow, my everything-

"Dude, are you deaf? That sounded like a mouse getting stepped on."

"Why do you even know what that sounds like?"

"I had cats as a kid."

Taking one hand away from her face, she pressed it to the ground to help her do an awkward crab walk further down the line of pallets to a mostly empty one that lead to an enclosed area where she could die in peace.

"So you've stepped on a mouse before?"

"No I- just- shut up and come check it out with me."

"Hell no, I don't want to see any mice. They're like, the size of rabbits in this city."

"Those are rats you fucking dumbass-"

Marinette crouched next to the pallet, taking more careful deep breaths and wiping the tears from her eyes. She watched carefully from her place in the shadows until they were both fully turned away. She was mostly obstructed by boxes but not willing to risk it. After what felt like an eternity, but was likely just twenty seconds or so, her chance came in the form of Dolly opening a box. She practically dove through the gap left for her and curled up on the floor for a while, recovering her senses as Dolly and Judgy talked. Marinette was only half paying attention, lamenting the existence of dust and wallowing until her half-formed bruises stopped stinging, when the shifting of cardboard and something Judgy said caught her attention.

"That is an unholy amount of glitter."

Marinette paused, a grin pressing against her hands.

I take it back. Worth it.

Marinette can't say that she had ever been particularly talented at sneaking around. It just never came naturally to her. Disguises and hiding in plain sight? That's just like an extension of sewing or acting, easy peasy. Hiding? Sure, she's great at picking the right spot and fitting in tiny spaces, it's just an extension of luck and strategy. Sneaking? That's a different story all together.

That isn't to say that she is bad at sneaking, she's just not talented at it. It means that every bit of skill she has was hard earned through extreme situations and years of practice. Being a superhero made her learn a lot of things, sink or swim style, with no safety net to fall back on. So, despite how... unusual and high stakes this situation is, Marinette isn't quite out of her depth yet.

That's what she told herself at least, standing fully upright with a wooden pallet hanging from her shoulders as she walked with it to a dark corner of the warehouse where another fifteen wooden pallets lay stacked, silently begging the universe that none of the cultists look over at this exact spot. Of course, she planned for this particular trap to be set up just before the leftmost exit, meaning she was as far from the cultists as she could be and had many obstacles in between them, making it very unlikely to be seen, but still. The chance was there.

Luckily, this was the last pallet she needed to set up this trap in particular, so she didn't need to haul any more all across the place. And extra luckily(Thanks to the magic she borrowed from Tikki and Trixx, no doubt), no one saw her walk around the edges of their circle and through the now complete pathways. Well, no one except Red Hood, who had been staring so hard at her this entire time, she wondered if he was trying to spontaneously develop the ability to shoot lasers from his eyes. Or maybe telepathy so he could yell at her for 'unnecessary' risk taking, she could only guess.(Well, he may have a point about the risk taking, but there is no way in hell she would ever say that. She was doing this to prove a point, practicality be damned.) She ignored him, as she had been doing since the beginning, setting the pallet down as quietly as she could despite the two stacks both reaching above her head. After a moment to breathe and admire her hard work, she pulled out the roll of fishing line and her extra pair scissors, tying the two stacks of pallets together and then working her way back through the slightly curved path until she reached the pillar.

Trap list;  Web of Ouch, Check.  Series of Unfortunate Tripwires(1), Check.

Onto the next!

Time flew by as Marinette gleefully set up the rest of her planned traps. A grapple gun, disassembled for its wire, and a cloth tarp carefully placed in front of a slick patch of WD-40. A block of wood suck in the opening mechanism of the truck door and a huge, precarious pile of various sized wooden crates that really tested the limits of her Tetris skills. A person-sized mat of duct tape woven together and placed sticky side up after another Series of Unfortunate Tripwires along the winding path to the leftmost door. A wooden wedge carefully positioned underneath the back edge of the two huge pallets of paint cans to slightly tilt them forward, and another paint can tied to the I-beam above and held to the underside of the catwalk by a thin string. Boxes filled to the brim with bouncy balls, gum balls, BB gun pellets, and metal jacks tied above two of the four exit pathways, a stolen steel-toed boot filled with rocks ready to swing at the turn of a handle. And, her personal favorite so far, a wooden plank positioned just above the cultists' plastic table and mini-fridge, piled with the superglue powder and the wonderful addition of rainbow glitter.

She had managed to test the superglue powder on Nappy, using it to fuse his clothes to the concrete he was resting on, and it was wonderful. There is no way that he is getting up with his clothes still intact. She kind of felt a little bad for the ones who are going to get this dumped on them, but oh well. She's sure the hospital will take care of it.

Probably.

She had managed to find a working water spout and long hose, complete with attached nozzle, that would reach all the way to where Red Hood was hanging, so that was one less thing for her to worry about doing herself. The last thing she set up was the discount Joker Dolls and the Rubber chickens while sitting in one of the disused offices. The whole room had become a sort of base of operations, and looked just about as chaotic as the end product of her plan was going to, but Marinette didn't care all that much. To get the effect she was going for just right, she had to be very careful in how she went about it. Packing in the rubber chickens at the bottom of the crate as precisely as possible then slowly lowering heavy bags of all the black and red glitter she could find to make the chickens stay in their deflated state. She carefully poked holes in the tops of the bags with one of the thumb tacks she had found, before carefully switching on all the joker dolls and placing them in the box.

Marinette will admit to using a lot of magic to make sure this step didn't go wrong, but once the four boxes were attached at their points on the catwalk and connected to her activation pull cord, she couldn't help the little giddy happy dance. It was ready!! The only thing left was letting Red Hood know his part, then the trap is set!

Jason wanted to throw his previous resolve to just wait and see how things turn out through the fucking window, because this was getting ridiculous. Patience has never really been his thing, which is becoming more and more apparent to him the longer he is forced to watch the sheer, unadulterated audacity on display.

He will admit to being mildly entertained in the beginning, watching the woman doing whatever the hell it is that she's doing like it was some kind of soap opera. When The Sneeze(TM) happened, he had been near certain she was caught, but seeing as she somehow had to be the luckiest person in the whole god damn world, she got away scot-free as the two cultists with the same skill level and attention span as low level videogame characters got distracted by industrial sized bags of glitter.

Which of course she later took to use for whatever unholy Rube Goldberg Machine she was making, alongside with a mysterious white powder that came from boxes absolutely covered in warning labels.

But the craft herpes and unprecedented luck were not what made him want to scream at her from two stories up and eighty feet away, cultists be damned. No, that urge came from the very familiar line of cordage she had looped through some kind of tarp and tied in knots, knots!! She took apart his grapple gun and used it for some kind of dirty picnic blanket! HIS FUCKING GRAPPLE GUN! The AUDACITY! He was fuming, glaring as she wrapped a hose over her shoulder and started trekking up the stairs and over the catwalks towards him. 

Finally!

"My fucking grapple gun?!" Red Hood hissed with indignation as soon as she was withing earshot, if barely. Marinette huffed and rolled her eyes, adjusting the hose wrapped around her shoulder to let more slack down.

"Well hello to you too." She said, tone filled with sarcasm and sass in equal measure, but internally she was beaming. He's not ruining her good mood when she is so close to success. She gently laid the hose wrapped around her shoulder down onto the catwalk as she crouched, careful not to make any suspicious noise. Not that the cultists would be likely to look up even if they heard it(After being subjected to the eye-searing glare of the floodlights herself, Marinette didn't exactly blame them, though still...), but it doesn't hurt to be careful.

"You took apart my fucking grapple gun?!" He repeated, voice inching higher. Clearly, some people don't think the phrase 'better safe than sorry' applies to them. She looked up at the rafters, rolling her head back in mild annoyance, as she drew on more of Trixx's power to muffle their conversation before taking a dramatic pose and poorly mimicking Hood's voice.

"'Oh, hi Marinette, thank you for risking your life to save me from being sacrificed by these scary cultists, I really owe you one.'" She shifted her stance and changed back to her own voice. "'No problem, Red Hood, I'm glad you understand that sometimes sacrifices must be made for the continued freedom of the innocent.'" She crossed her arms and looked pointedly in the faintly glowing eye of the Vigilante's helmet with a slight pout. She couldn't see it, but Marinette imagined that he took a split second to blink.

"Was that a pun?" Marinette tilted her head, thinking back over her words before silently grinning. "So not only do you take apart my god damned grapple gun, you fucking pun at me about it?!" Marinette chuckled, uncrossing her arms and going back to carefully untangling the hose.

"You can get another one, cant you?" She asked flippantly, Red Hood grunted in displeasure.

"Ugh... Yeah, but that is so inconvenient." If it weren't for the voice modulator, Marinette would *almost* call his tone petulant, but for now she simply thought of it as pouty.

"Welcome to the club." She responded, to which he huffed.

"What, the club for inconveniences and cultists?" She could hear the smirk in his voice, and had to hold back her own.

"Yep." She responded cheerfully instead, "Meetings every Thursday in the warehouse of rejected toys."

"Why Thursdays?"

"Because Thursdays are the worst day of the week." She said with certainty, staring off into the middle distance as she remembered all the bad things that happen on Thursdays.

Well, at the end of it all, this might not end up being one of the bad things after all...

"Isn't that supposed to be Monday?" Marinette rolled her eyes and huffed in exasperation before shaking her head.

"I'm not going over this again." Red Hood leaned his head back, seemingly nonplused.

"Again?"

"Anyway," Marinette continued, cutting him off from speaking further. "I have everything ready except for this one last thing, which I will need your help for." Hood straightened(as much as he could anyway), as if remembering something and his voice pitched slightly deeper in a commanding kind of way. As a former superhero herself, she was very familiar with it.

"Yeah, actually, I'm going to need you to exp-"

"Shush shh shh." Marinette said, waving a hand at him while distracted with straightening the rest of the hose and turning the nozzle to 'shower' mode in preparation to lower it to him. Despite this, she could feel the affront radiating off of the vigilante. She fought down a smile as she continued. "Don't interrupt people, its rude."

Red Hood made a strangled noise, like he was trying to start several different sentences at once but nothing managed to make it past the first syllable, very effectively cutting off his demand for explanations she absolutely wasn't going to give him. She wished that she could see what his expression looked like right now, it would keep her giggling for weeks.

"Okay, so I don't know how much you were paying attention-" That's a lie, she knew he has been watching her like a hawk this whole time, "but you see the boards I set up with the piles of white powder and glitter above their supply table?" she asked, pivoting on the balls of her feet to look at him, wrapped in chains and hanging above a half done ritual circle.

"Yeah?" The word sounded like he wanted to growl it, but was too off kilter to fully manage. She held back a laugh, but couldn't help the smirk that slipped through.

"Well." She said, holding up the hose next to her head for him to see, "What I need you to do, is spray water on the cultists that powder drops on." She finished with a sunny grin. There was silence for several long moments as they stared at each other, sounds outside their little bubble left ignored. Marinette didn't falter, expression as solid as Hood's helmet. When he finally spoke, it was loaded and laced with emotion and demand.

"Why."

Marinette blinked and tilted her head. There were a lot of ways that she could answer him, ways to interpret what exactly he was asking about. Why the water, why him. It could be why she insisted on being so... Cavalier about this whole situation, or why she stuck around to help instead of running. Or, most likely, it could be why go through all this trouble? Why spend hours setting all this up when a single phone call would have gotten them out of this mess in minutes? And yet...

She felt the magic in her chest swirling, Luck and Misfortune dancing across her shoulders. Creation and Destruction chasing each other through the blurry seams of the world around her. Her connection to the Kwami hummed in her ears, and she felt the Balance on the verge of a Shift. Her words here could change the Fate of this city. A small action could tip the scales of Order and Chaos.

No pressure.

"Because," she said slowly, earnestness in her eyes as she stared through Red Hood and into the Destruction and Misfortune clinging to him like leaches, tainting and feeding on the Hope and Safety in his Soul. Magic seeped into her voice, spreading through her like invisible veins of sunlight and guiding her words. "When life takes you down a path that gives nothing but blood and darkness, the only way to make it to the other side is to create your own light."

She got no response, the vigilante seeming frozen by her words, staring intently from behind glowing lenses. She herself took a few moments to collect her thoughts as the Magic dissipated, the feeling of Balance fading to the background, leaving behind no indication on if she said the right thing. 

But she did, she knew she did.

With a comforting smile loaded with memories of long nights, suppressed feelings and more responsibility than any child should ever have to shoulder, she reached down and handed him the hose. He took it automatically, still processing her words. Marinette stood to leave, before looking over her shoulder and saying,

"Enjoy the show, Hood." She smirked at him, turning and walking away. "Maybe you'll learn a thing or two about how dangerous 'feather dusters' can be."

"I got something." Oracle's spoke suddenly through the uncharacteristic silence of the coms.

"Report." Batman ordered, the speed of his reply being the only indicator of his worry, but after knowing him for so long Oracle could read it very easily. Keys clacked rapidly under her fingers as she hacked into phone satellites and pulled up tracking software.

"A phone call, asking specifically for Commissioner Gordon." She paused for a moment, skimming over the auto-generated transcript from the audio file.

"Hn." Batman grunted impatiently. She could almost feel his signature stare through the computer.

"Hold your horses." She muttered quietly, speaking up again shortly after as several blue dots started appearing and disappearing on the map of the warehouse district on her other screen. "Someone called in to report cult activity and kidnapping approximately two minutes ago."

"Is it Hood?" Red Robin asked, voice calm if slightly winded. A quick glance at his body cam footage showed him finishing up a fight with a couple muggers.

"It seems likely," she said, refocusing. "The video feeds I managed to find earlier put him near the reconnaissance point N gave me before he disappeared, and the call claims two people were kidnapped." Her eyes narrowed at the screen, the tracking software taking somewhat longer to pinpoint the origin of the call than normal, only giving her the general area, but...

"But?" Nightwing interrupted, much more subdued than earlier in the night. Barbara smirked a little at his words aligning with her thoughts. She started combing through traffic camera feeds from the estimated time of the kidnapping to pinpoint the location manually as she spoke.

"It was a woman with a French accent who called it in, and from the sound of the audio, she was suspiciously calm. Almost excited sounding, even." Barbara frowned, finding a suspicious looking beat-up brown van and several cars all driving to one warehouse approximately 3 hours and 28 minutes ago. "There was no mention or description of who exactly the kidnapped people were, though the caller implied she was one of them." There were no cameras pointing towards where they parked, and any security the disused warehouse had was either completely broken on or a closed circuit. She started back tracking the path of the van while she ran the license plates she managed to get from one of the higher quality traffic cams.

"Think it's a trap?" Red Robin asked. She hummed, chewing on the inside of her cheek for a moment. She started looking into the warehouse's utilities, searching for any any weirdly high power draws that would indicate a villain lair, but didn't find anything on that scale.

"I'm sending you the address, B." She said quickly, inputting it to the Batmobile's navigation system before answering Red. "There's not enough evidence to say, but I don't think it is a trap, exactly. All the information we have about the cult from previous reconnaissance doesn't indicate them being a setup, and the call, despite specifically mentioning the Commissioner, was for the police, not us." She checked the rout on the Batmobile's map against hers, looking it over for roadblocks.

"But it is suspicious." Red Robin replied, a calculating edge to his voice.

"But it is suspicious." She confirmed. Construction blocked off the block with the most direct route from Batman to the warehouse, looks like a fire in a machinery overlay facility that took out a corner of the building. The traffic cones and interspersed equipment would be little obstacle for Bruce the Broody Dad-Bat, though.

"Enroute, eleven minutes." Said the aforementioned Overprotective Flying Marsupial. Oracle looked at his tracker.

"Take a left in two blocks and you'll be there in eight." She typed in several commands and a new path showed up on his map. "Careful for the piles of bricks." A flash from another screen caught her attention and she turned her head.

Ah, good.

"Red, I'm sending you the address of where it looks like Hood was taken from. N, I'm sending you files for the owners of the cars that the cultists used. None of them have been reported stolen, so see if you can confirm or find anything incriminating we can give to the police." From their body cam footage, she could see Red pulling out his grapple gun and shooting off while Nightwing quickly looked through his wrist computer.

"What would we ever do without you, O?" Nightwing asked with a laugh, the first one since Hood turned up missing.

"Die, probably." Red Robin responded as he leapt off of a building. Oracle snorted.

"Probably." She agreed

Marinette was in position, crouched behind the cultists' table of junk and fridge of dubiously sourced blood. All of her traps were set and ready to go, the few she needed to activate all connected back to this one spot. She went over her mental checklist with a feeling of satisfaction.

Step One: Neutralize Lookouts, Check. Step Two: Gather Supplies, Check. Step Three: The Path of Least Resistance, Check. Step Four: Traps, Check.

It was a simple plan, though by no means easy. The bruises and rope burn had made friends with the muscle fatigue and aching joints from all the crawling, climbing, and carrying that she had done to get to this point. The close calls that made her heart race with adrenaline bled into giddy anticipation for the payoff. Finally, the culmination of all of her hard work was here.

Step Five: It All Falls Down.

She looked up, past the eye watering glare of the floodlight and directly at Red Hood. With squinting eyes and a toothy grin, she shot him a thumbs up. After a moment, he responded in kind, holding up the hose. Marinette looked back down, blinking a few times to clear the spots from her vision and then steeling herself with a deep breath.

Go time.

Creeping forward, Marinette reached the extension cord that powered the mini-fridge. The very same mini-fridge that filled the warehouse with the constant gurgling drone of an appliance on the edge of complete and utter non-function. With a quick and simple yank and a careful dive back behind cover, the warehouse suddenly descended into silence.

"... The hell?" One of the cultists that had been drawing runes into the edge of the circle muttered, looking up at the sudden quiet, quickly followed by the other three.

"What happened?" Dolly called from the other side of the circle, voice echoing as she stood up from where she rested against a large crate with Judgy.

"The fridge just turned off." Drawing Cultist number two said, setting down her protractor.

"Well no shit-" the third one said, before being cut off by the one in the red-trimmed potato sack.

"Figure it out without disrupting meditation, lest our hard work go to waste." He said in an excessively haughty voice that gave her flashbacks of a certain blond. Marinette couldn't see their faces, but from their posture she could deduce that the four drawing cultists and Dolly weren't too happy about this guy. If she had to guess, it would probably be because his version of 'hard work' consisted of sitting with his eyes closed and bossing people around.

Oh well, that's what you get for being in a cult that kidnapped people, I guess.

The four Drawing Cultists made their way over, two stopping next to the table, one going directly to the fridge, and the last hung back with their arms crossed, just beside one of the meditating cultists. Marinette shifted, hand wrapping around the first fishing line, pulling it until it was just taught.

"Hey, who unplugged-" the cultist never got to finish their sentence, as Marinette *yanked* the fishing line and four crates balanced on top of the catwalks above tipped. Then spilled...

Then it all fell down.

----

Jason had never been big on the Internet. Sure, it was beyond useful for investigative work, but from growing up poor, to living on the streets, to being dead, there wasn't much time for him to get immersed in 'internet culture', as Tim called it. But, he did remember one of Dick's attempts at 'brotherly bonding night' where he spent several hours putting up with far too many compilation videos meant to 'catch him up on what he missed while dead'. He remembered them, at this one very specific moment, because of the one 'Vine' Dick showed them of a rubber chicken falling off a roof. It had been mildly amusing at the time, enough keep him around longer than he otherwise would have stayed. He had even laughed a little, and made a joke about it being accurate to what Dick sounded like when pushed off of high places. The responding squawk from his adoptive brother proved his point perfectly, to the amusement of the rest of the room.

Jason was not laughing now.

If he had been asked before to imagine the bone chilling sound of hundreds of screaming rubber chickens falling through a warehouse like an unholy rain, nothing would have come close to the reality. He doubted anything could come close to reality; the single most unsettling sound he had ever heard freezing everyone in place with held breath as the screaming and thwaps of rubber hitting concrete stopped. That was, until the dolls activated.

From inside the dispersed mounds of toys and clouds of glitter slowly spreading over the floor in a way that reminded him of fear gas, more pairs of red eyes than he could count lit up like beacons, followed by laughter.

Screaming laughter.

Jason knows that if he wasn't hanging from chains at this moment, he would either be running or shooting. His fist clenched around the hose in his hand, and water started raining down below him. At the same time, he heard two separate thunks, followed by what sounded like a rain of vaguely spherical objects and confused screaming from below him.

White powder fell in a heap, coating the cultists and spreading over the floor near the table they had set up, and he remembered what the woman- Marinette- told him. Swallowing down the adrenaline induced haze, he aimed the water as the cultists scattered.

It was chaos.

The three cultists closest to the table had the most powder on them, and when they ran directly under the path of the water, something unexpected happened. The first one fell, foot stuck to the ground, and the other two tripped over them and didn't get back up again, writhing where they had ragdolled against the floor, stuck to it like a glue trap. The white powder got on two more, one of the people who were meditating and the person standing next to them. They ran, only getting partially soaked before they were out of range. They ran for the door behind Jason, clothes becoming stiff and sticky with glue, but not managing to fully stop them. They didn't get far, because as soon as they got to the border of the boxes they tripped over the balls of various sizes scattered over the floor. One fell to the side, catching themselves on a heavy crate while the other fell face first into the floor. Neither got back up, despite how much they struggled.

On the path next to them, two more cultists had tried to escape, but instead of sticking to the floor like the others, they slid on it. Crashing into each other, they both fell head first into a dusty tarp that seemed to swallow them whole as they fell into a pit. The cord of his mutilated grapple gun pulled taught, closing around the edges of the tarp, leaving only a single flailing leg sticking out of the top.

Across from him, on the longest and darkest path, the two cultists who were meant to be on watch followed behind a third at a dead sprint. They gained speed unhindered, until they were around twenty feet away from the door when the one in front hit a tripwire, stumbling but keeping momentum. But then they hit another tripwire.

And another tripwire.

And then another tripwire.

They managed to dodge by jumping over the last tripwire, only to miss the clothesline that hit them directly at neck height. The cultist fell, slamming their head on the ground, knocked out cold with a muted thud.

The two behind didn't stop for their friend, simply jumping over the prone form and ducking past the clothesline, speeding up for the last stretch to the door. They almost made it, but we're stopped dead by the web of fishing line and stacks of pallets that collapsed around the two, trapping them in a tangle of limbs and splinters.

Just behind them, almost at the same time another cultists barely dodged a paint can swinging down from the rafters, only to be buried under the resulting cascade of paint cans that spilled from two huge pallets. The one behind skid to a stop and backpedaled, watching four of their companions go down trying to get out that way. They then turned around, seeing a fifth person groaning on the ground stuck to a mat of tape they fell on after running through another series of tripwires and singular clothesline. In a panicked haze, they looked around until spotting a couple of others at the truck door that wasn't blocked off, trying to open it. The panicking cultist rushed over just as they managed to crack it open, incidentally causing a veritable avalanche of boxes and crates to fall on all three.

There were three left standing. The one with red trim, who was yelling obscenities while standing in the middle of their half done ritual, and the two who were walking through the minefield of tripping hazards that got the ones half-covered in glue. They reached the other side without falling within just a few seconds of each other, the one who got there first sprinting forwards and throwing open the door with a screech of rusted hinges.

Then was promptly knocked the fuck out by a boot to the face.

The last one made it out the door, then screamed. Their footsteps fell silent.

Jason was gaping.

Holy... Fucking... Shit...

Below him, he heard cackling. Not the unsettling, mechanical and screaming laughter of the joker dolls, but the nearly evil delighted glee coming from the small blue-haired woman dancing around with a monkey wrench the size of her arm held in one hand. Her high ponytail bounced behind her, covered in cobwebs and dust. Her clothes were rumpled and dirty, and even from this distance her arms looked like she went ten rounds with an octopus and lost. But despite this, she was practically glowing.

"IT WORKED, YES!!! HAHA!" She shouted out, twirling out from behind her wall of boxes, head whipping around in every direction, taking it all in. The lead cultist whirled around, gaze locking onto her.

"YOU!" He shouted in outrage, immediately charging at the much smaller woman. Jason sucked in a breath, whether to warn her or just shout, he is not sure, but the sound never left his throat.

Marinette turned her feral grin on the charging cultist, and when he was in range, swung her heavy monkey wrench and hit him right in the shoulder. Jason could hear the bone snap. She hit him again, this time in the stomach with a forwards jab, then another swing to the knee with a sickening crunch, taking him down completely and then stepping far enough away he couldn't reach her, just in case. She spun, turning to look directly at him.

"You still think I'm adorable and harmless, Hood?!" She shouted up at him, dropping the wrench with a heavy thunk. "I told you that you would eat your words," she threw her arms out wide "Now eat them and weep!" She cackled madly, not waiting for an answer as she turned and skipped away. Skipped.

Jason was left speechless, open mouthed and hanging above the groaning and unconscious cultists who had kidnapped and were prepared to sacrifice him with only one thought.

I think I might be in love.

The Batmobile skid to a stop in front of the warehouse and he practically flew out of it. The outside was dark, but he could see light seeping out through broken and dirty windows and hear a commotion coming from the inside. He ran towards the closest door, only to be mildly surprised as it was thrown open with a near deafening screech of the hinges when he was still a few paces away. The surprise didn't stop, because even as he was getting into a fighting stance, the person(whom he identified as one of the cultists his sons were investigating) was knocked out by a boot swinging down from the crude mechanism he only barely had time to noticed before it activated.

… What?

Pushing his confusion and surprise away, he focused on the second cultist that came running through the loudly closing door. They made it a few steps out before noticing him in the dim lighting. Expression already contorted in fear and panic, the shock of seeing Batman standing in their way was too much, and they screamed.

Bruce punched them in the face, then spent a few precious seconds zip tying their hands and feet so they couldn't escape when they woke up. Creeping forward to the door that was held open by the unconscious body of the first cultist, he peered inside to where he could hear a woman's manic laughter. Once he did, he stopped to take it all in.

His son, in full gear, was hanging from the ceiling, wrapped in chains and holding a leaking garden hose. Below him was a small woman covered in dirt and injuries, laughing maniacally as she stood above an even more injured cultist who was trying to crawl away with one arm, and another pile of people somehow stuck to the ground. He could see a hole of some kind to the left with a single still-moving leg sticking upwards, and to the right two people splayed out like ragdolls. He could hear muffled arguing and curses from the other side of the warehouse, along with creaks of pallets and groaning from underneath piles of boxes. Bruce felt a very familiar feeling creeping over him, one his kids loved to induce for the sole purpose of causing grey hairs.

What the hell happened?

But this time, it wasn't one of his kids who were responsible. He watched as the woman turned, looking directly at Jason and yelling up at him.

"You still think I'm adorable and harmless, Hood?! I told you that you would eat your words, now eat them and weep!" Then she cackled madly, turned, and skipped through to the opposite side of the building.

Well, Bruce thought with a restrained sigh, maybe he was at least a little responsible.

Bruce slid through the door, creeping around the edges of the circle before emerging from the shadows in front of his son. Hood jerked, whipping his head from where he was staring after the woman to Batman. He grunted, clearing his throat before speaking.

"Uh, hi- hey." Jason cleared his throat again, attempting for casual and failing miserably. "How's- uh, how's it goin'?" he stammered, glancing back to where the woman disappeared. Stammered. Bruce didn't answer, tilting his head and scanning the carnage again, before spotting the loop of rope hanging next to his son.

"...How long have you been here?" His tone was harder to decipher with the voice modulator, but Bruce would recognize it easily from any one of his children. Jason was flustered.

"B?" Hood asked, unsettled as a small grin grew on The Batman's face. Whoever that woman was, whatever Jason said to her to cause this reaction, Bruce would likely thank her for the opportunity to get back at one of his children for all the grief they cause him. Uncrossing his arms, Bruce pulled a phone out of his belt pouch. "B? B don't you fucking dare-" He still didn't respond, holding up the device with one hand, and snapping a picture. Ignoring his son's vehement protests, he sent the photo to Alfred with the attached message:

B: please print and frame this for display in the cave.

A: Of course, Sir. I suppose the bulletproof frames will come in useful after all.

Red Hood continued to swear, attempting to spray him with water from the hose he still held tightly in hand. Bruce just put the phone away and reached up to tap his comm with his small smile still in place.

"Oracle, please send Nightwing and Red Robin to my location." He said calmly, concerned exclamations immediately coming through only to be drowned out by Hood's booming voice.

"B, DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE!"

#MLBxDC #mlb x dc #jasonette #maribat #Feral Marinette #my writing #this took me literally six months to write #Jason Todd #marinette dupain cheng #Jason Todd x Marinette Dupain-Cheng

[spuffybot]

The new season of Vanderpump Rules is airing in a month and I’m so not ready for the world to turn on Ariana.

For those of you who don’t know, Ariana’s long term bf (9 years, owned a home together) was cheating on her with one of her best friends and cast mates for 7 months. The discovery and fallout went viral and became a pop culture sensation (covered by the news, major talk shows, etc etc). The world rallied behind Ariana and she turned the scandal into lucrative business deals including a book, a majorly successful run on DWTS, and now a role in Chicago on Broadway.

The problem is, people have short memories, especially when it comes to women and their pain and anger.

I’m reading a book called Trauma and Recovery by Judith L. Herman, and in it she discusses how people are more comfortable siding with the abuser / oppressor because it requires nothing of them except to pretend the abuse never happened. When we side with the “victim” we take on their pain, we empathize with them, and this can take a toll. It’s a lot easier to put it out of your mind than it is to take up for the person who was harmed.

We already saw this start to happen after the reunion aired (in Bravo reality tv, the cast watches the show and then gets together for a reunion where they confront each other over what they watched). At the reunion Ariana was angry and she didn’t hide it. She had only found out about the affair a few weeks prior and the pain was fresh. She didn’t hide her hurt, her rage, or her pain. It was truly cathartic and beautiful to watch, but many people started to turn on her. They were willing to rally behind her when she was the saintly victim of an affair, but not when she was vengeful and raw and open. Comments online went from calling her “queen” to saying she “went too far” a common occurrence when women are vulnerable and express their emotions without censoring them.

It’s been months since that reunion aired and Ariana has used that time to shine. She had an amazing run on DWTS and just announced a run on Broadway as Roxie Hart. Though she gained notoriety through the scandal she has more than proven she deserves these opportunities, demonstrating her incredible dancing skills week after week. And yet, already I see people saying it’s “too much” that they’re “over” Ariana and it’s “unfair” that she get these opportunities.

As we gear up for a new season, I fear the tide will continue to turn. Ariana has even expressed concerns herself:

Add to the situation the fact that her ex, Tom Sandoval is a fan favorite who has been on the show since day 1 and you have an audience who is primed to turn their backs on Ariana in favor of the comfort of enjoying Tom and his antics.

We see this scenario play out in real life all the time. It’s much easier to ask women to bottle up their pain and “be the bigger person” than it is to hold men accountable for their actions. No one’s life should be ruined over an affair, Tom is worthy of forgiveness and moving on, but why do we prioritize men’s comfort over women’s pain? Why can’t we create space for Ariana to still be angry and hurt, even if it’s awkward and uncomfortable for those around her? Why can’t we root for her to win, regardless of how much time has passed? Why are we always turning on women the second their pain becomes inconvenient?

We see this narrative play out in all corners of life. Those with chronic pain are viewed as complainers and fakers because accommodating their lived reality is inconvenient. We turn off social media or “check out” when the weight of suffering in the news becomes too much. We get annoyed with friends who are depressed and won’t “snap out of it” and we avoid those who are grieving or suffering heartbreak because it’s awkward.

There’s a cultural push to judge and condemn those whose pain is “too much” and who don’t let it go. But pain and trauma and healing doesn’t work like that.

I don’t have the answers but I hope I’m wrong. I hope this season airs and we can continue to root for Ariana, to show up for her pain and her joy in equal measure and to continue to believe she is worthy of success. It may seem silly to care so much about reality tv, but this situation just mirrors things I see play out every day. I hope we can collectively learn to hold space for the uncomfortable, the awkward, and the painful even when we don’t understand it.

#vanderpump rules #ariana madix #scandoval #bravo #reality tv #vpr

[2n2n]

ch 107

HAVING THE TIME OF MY LIFE....! Ah I can't believe it is ALL Tsukasa x Nene ! I always anticipate that we'll spend time elsewhere on the other guys... ahhh so many pages ♥♥♥ wonderful....!!

something so pleasant about the attentive, patient, listening Tsu... how he goes about his business navigating a boundary....

in Japanese, the word Tsukasa uses for Nene-chan here ["fussy"] is the same Amane uses to describe what Tsukasa will be like if he's interrupted at Katanuki.... ♥ Amane seems to feel very differently about 'fits' than Tsukasa does ... wwwwww.... hm, it's actually bad that Amane feels like... ♥ tantrum ... you're the one I worry about

it's too funny Tsukasa just does what Nene-chan says when she no wanna be upside-down....

I'm so sorry about your future boyfriends Nene-chan. Kidnapper and Abusive Boyfriend. they are both stupid and you hate them, I know I know....

but a pause to say, it's so funny how pairings can be as kids, ahahaha... Hakubo was, so annoyed by Sumire, such a brat child she was, so inconvenient.. apparently young Akane could be possessed to yell I HATE YOU! at Aoi....! Amane got so mad and shoved Tsukasa, and he used to call him dummy when he was frustrated too.... even Kou acts childishly and insults Mitsuba when annoyed (and isn't Mitsu such a brat haha ...) even in My Dear Living Dead and Narisokonai Snow White, we really have some "ugh!!!!" between the pairings, ahaha.

ah its funny to see Tsukasa say urusai wwwwww

GET HIM!!!! Nene-chan ♥ so bold so brave haha, Mitsuba wouldn't DREAM of doing this, haahahaha!!! you know the way people imagine Tsukasa VS Nene-chan, they'd imagine he'd rip her face off like a chimpanzee for this, I'm glad for some people to be proven wrong... lol...

meanwhile... wwwwww.... Tsukasa-chan, you complain about all of this fuss and tantrum and violence and such but... wwww.....

the atmosphere is so different wwwww all Yugi are so frustrating and make you cry, huh, Nene-chan? They wanna do things you don't and you're along for the ride, hehehehe....

Fascinated in the small gap in memory... maybe things that aren't so important to you, are easily forgotten in all that time, in a mundane way. What did mom do...? I don't remember... ah. I really like to see Tsukasa talking to his joudai so much; we don't see it as often as we do with Hanako... they seem to be saying something like, "well, children are different..." and "what did your mom do?" ... I like that they seem to not want fickle Tsukasa to lose interest or gumption hehehehaha they wanna solve this!!! nooo we can't just give up, we gotta-- do the things--- ngnngn!!!

such wonderful and magical things Tsukasa can doooo uwwaaahhh! Sometimes I get why Amane's name has the 'normal' kanji... with Amane he'll take you to a beach to do normal summertime things like whacka watermelon, go to festival stalls supernatural and non... I feel like only Tsukasa would wrangle a giant owl and steer you all around to delight you....

so sweet you're just trying to entertain her... make her happy... a natural talent

such a nice face.... ♥♥♥ Tsutsu please you...

it's like I'm having a beautiful dream... their little faces...

MOUUU IKKAI ahahahhaha, you were too good... ♥ you made her manic .. overstimulated... zoomies... soooo cute haha NENE-CHAAAN!! you're overwhelming no matter what hahahaha....

fickle.... ♥.....

the poor joudai really being put to task wwww it makes me feel like Hanako is much kinder to his, he is not this rude to them!! He is apt to pet them and thank them... I can't wait to learn what the hell these orbs are.... they are too personable lol

and then I start dreaming... madness madness... I can't bare it.... it can't be said enough, how long I've wanted this...! How it's felt so "set-up", with Tsukasa and Nene-chan both loving to sing....! I believed in my heart it was inevitable! Of course, it would be beautiful!

I can't believe Tsukasa can play this kind of coy and baiting little game....! whaaaaat? You're suddenly as adept as a children's show host... and it wasn't even your plan to send her to sleep! So what for? Just to invite her to sing? It's too cute....

ahhh.. I hope for a volume promo we get this in color. It's too sublime.... the steam off the hot gears as the boundary's water runs over them... knowing these gears are a golden color... and can you even imagine, in the anime? Both Tsukasa and Nene-chan's VAs can sing!!!! The sound is plausible....;;; it's too lovely... I can't believe such a beautiful scene can happen so 'soon' in their dynamic. I thought I'd wait so long for this, even though in my heart I knew it would happen at some point. It's amazing ... in some way, TsuNene lacks resistance.... it's their open and free natures ... impulses ... it can just 'happen'....

too serene... I wonder what it's like to not understand Tsukasa's hidden grace, the gentility? This scene is so gracious of him.... invite you to sing with me.... there are expressions only Tsukasa makes, and, suddenly the twins feel worlds apart. They feel impossibly different.... poor Amane, he doesn't often reach serenity...

I wonder what you feel, Nene-chan...? Comfort... warmth? Safety, even for a second? A sense of security... enough to fall asleep. So glad she turns to watch him sing...

Looking at it. Why is it like some sort of date ... TsuNene is impressive. You took a girl on an amusement park ride .... you serenaded her ... Amane, look out....

two things... 1. it's crazy you can just catch Mirai like this when Amane could NOT at ALL, even with how desperately he wanted to prevent her from touching Nene-chan in the Clockkeepers arc. and 2. you suddenly have this violent agility to stop this inhuman speeding mouse, but you simply let Nene-chan evade your sleep fingers just earlier? Tsukasa really is avoiding using violence with Nene-chan....

ah, you remind me of someone!

the Yugi can be so different and then so alike. It's a pain, isn't it? tedious things... the mysteries. And here Mirai is, droning on about justice and crime and rules.... all of the things we don't need. If we want to change the future, we'll have to break all of those. The Yugi look at other mysteries as chores in these circumstances. You'd just like to do as you please without annoying interruptions. Of course, it has to happen... sigh.

Interesting to hear Mirai refer to their 'Court of Law'. I suppose that 'space' we see is some sort of body of their boundary, and some aspect of their themeing. These gavels ... how annoying. This truly is a force opposite to the destructive and villainous Yugi who are trying to bend fate to their desires. Strictures... ! Governing ... bleh.

#avvy's JSHK

[the-worms-in-your-bones]

tell me about your ocs 🫣🫣 i liste

thank you for unlocking my side quest. this is probably definitely going to be a very long post

okay, so i've got five time lord ocs, but the main one is Fox (short for foxilquinn, because of course i had to give him a weird time lord name)

so he kind of started out as the kid in a doctor/master child au type story, and hes not not that anymore, but also he's got much more lore than just that now

to start off at the beginning he was born (or loomed i should say) on earth during the third doctor's era. i still haven't figured out why or how they had a loom, but they had one. the unfortunate thing for fox is that this loom was mildly broken so that leads to some problems for him (mainly his hair color will stay the same across all regenerations (which isn't really a problem but whatever, and its also where he got his name since the hair color is about the same as the color of a red fox's coat), he doesn't have a typical injury/stress threshold for regeneration, he has to literally be dying or he can't regenerate (this ends up with him losing a leg and an eye during his first regeneration, but it doesn't kill him so he doesn't regenerate from it), and he's really time sensitive to the point that being near anything paradoxical or too out of sync with the time line just kind of makes him pass out)

(also side note, fox is trans, it isn't like a big part of anything but i just like making my characters trans)

anyway when he's like six the cia show up and are like 'hey we're going to take your kid and put him in the academy on gallifrey' and then basically kidnap him. and since he's still got two years before he's initiated into the academy they stick him in the care or brax because a) he's the doctor's brother and therefore closest available family member on gallifrey and b) i thought it would be funny to stick brax with a child, he does not seem qualified for that

fast forward a bit and he's at the academy doing academy stuff. this is mostly uneventful, he does some mischief, but nothing big happens here. he does end up being in like the same year/class as romana though because this is my story and i like romana so she can be in it if i want her to.

after graduating fox steals a tardis and runs away because hes seen what gallifreyan society is like compared to the rest of the universe and he doesn't want to spend the rest of his life in that society not being able to do what he wants.

anyway he kind of just travels around for a while until he one day runs into the doctor and romana and him and romana have a fun little reunion and he travels with them for a while.

after romana returns to gallifrey fox starts sneaking in and out of gallifrey to see romana. this gets a cia agent assigned to his case because he's now a threat to security (he isn't really all that much, his main goals other than seeing romana are to not get arrested and being annoying to gallifreyan government officials that aren't romana). of course this cia agent is narvin because he's one of my favorite time lords so he goes in the story as well

anyway things happen, romana gets captured by the daleks and imprisoned on etra prime. fox goes looking for her, does not succeed but does get blown up and has a building fall on him, resulting in him losing most of his right leg and left eye (also he builds himself a futuristic prosthetic leg and also uses forearm crutches that can fold up really small (like fit in your pocket small) because that's something i desperately want to exist so i'm giving them to him and just calling it time lord technology instead of finding a way for it to make sense) (forearm crutches are so inconvenient to bring anywhere if you're not actively using them and also sometimes when you are)

after romana gets back she gets a bit concerned about fox just running around the universe and getting into dangerous situations because of the events mentioned in the previous paragraph and basically goes 'why don't you teach a class at the academy' so she can make sure hes not out there somewhere getting himself killed

he agrees and ends up teaching a small class of students that (maybe they know this through like matrix prediction or something idk) are all probably going to be renegades. the goal of this class is basically him teaching them how to not die out in the universe (the high council also make the rule that if he's going to be employed on gallifrey he needs to stay there and try to take his tardis from him, but he basically tries to fight them about it (i like to think he tries to bite one of them) and they let him keep his tardis as long as he doesn't go on any unplanned trips)

(there's other stuff about him, like he survives the time war because i don't want to kill him off and theres a few regenerations here and there, but i've already said so much about fox so i'm going to talk about my other ocs now)

the other four are all fox's students who i actually just made up to be placeholder characters for like a scene then i got attatched. they're Azdran, Ensil, Jerex, and Maxin

Az is probably the one i have the most stuff for, they're from the house of oakdown and their parents really want them to be like some kind of politician, but they just want to get off of gallifrey and live a normal life without the expectations of their house behind all their actions. they're nonverbal and use a data pad that they modified as an aac device, this data pad is pretty old and it's a miracle that it still works, but az manages to keep it functioning somehow. they're also the only one of the students that survives the time war, they fall through a rift in time and space opened by the war and end up on earth (something something that rift in cardif)

I honestly don't have much for ensil, hes arcalian (the others are all prydonian) and finds the whole time lord society thing stifling and wants to not deal with that for the rest of his life

Jerex was raised by tardis engineers and likes tardises more than people. he already is bonded to a tardis by the time he enters fox's class and would prefer to spend his days working on upgrading and fixing it rather than having to do classes. if it weren't for the time war getting in the way of things he probably would have just settled himself on a quiet planet with his tardis and helped with repairs on the tardises of renegades who stopped by. i think he still ends up as a tardis engineer/repairer during the war because its what he's good at, but he'd rather not be involved in the war

Last there's Maxin. she's the daughter of maxil and i honestly can't remember if she started out that way or if i made her design and then named her and went 'yeah that could make sense'. anyway because of that she often disregards a lot of rules because her father has like some power and can get her out of things. she also definitely breaks into his office and looks through things she shouldn't be. after the academy she ends up joining the military and pretty quickly climbs the ranks (all of them graduate pretty close to the start of the time war so the gallifreyan military is actually like a relevant thing that does stuff at this point). once the war actually starts though it doesn't take her long to figure out that she a) kind of hates rassilon and thinks he's just making everything worse in some sort of power play against the daleks and b) she can't actually do all that much of what she wants or thinks is best in the military both because of it's structure and because, even despite her rank, she isn't often taken seriously since shes pretty fresh out of the academy, so she defects and starts helping the resistance

#thanks for giving me an opportunity to info dump about these guys #i have so much to say about them all the time #dw oc #asks

[theweirderstuffblogdontlook]

A short one shot fic about Bob’s disguise as Barbra.

Check it out under the readmore.

Alright, moment of truth. Time to see if all the practice and costume tweaking would pay off.

While the possession amulets were extremely handy for going out in public without anyone getting suspicious. 

Since when Bob hid inside her, he was totally hidden from the world. And when she was hidden in Bob, so long as no one saw them switch, their association with each other would be similarly hidden.

It had been getting increasingly clear that this "only one of them existing at a time" thing was not without its own inconveniences. 

In particular, feeding into Bobs cabin fever. 

Cabin fever makes him want to go out more. 

And going out more means more cannibal serial killing.

She doesn't have access to drugs or jail bars to hold him. Her capacity to protect people from him is painfully limited.

So she's been trying to get creative with the damage control.

So came the idea for Barbra.

And the disguise has been made, and the acting has been practiced. The backstory, hopefully memorized.

Now all that was left was a test run.

They parked the truck in front of a small, nowhere sort of bar. Place where there shouldn't be many people, generally a bit more rough and tumble group without super easy targets, and especially no kids that could get caught in the crossfire.

Though her mind and nerves were still buzzing with everything that could go wrong.

"Alright, tell me again the number one rule of this whole scheme."

Bob rolled his eyes from under his sunglasses, but was more amused at her stressing out than annoyed.

"Don't try huntin or hurtin people while playin Barbra."

"Right. If you act suspicious as Barbra, it puts both of us at risk, because people can use me to track down the house to catch us unawares. Then we're either in prison or on the run with no money. Or possibly dead if someone tracks us down who doesn't care to take you in alive."

They start walking towards the bar as she continues.

"So remember, you're Barbra Freeman, a butch lesbian truck driver, but you got in a car accident awhile ago, and had been recovering for a few months. You're wearing sunglasses even while indoors cus the accident left you with a light sensitivity. Just, smalltalk, and not being suspicious."

"Sugarcube, I spent years playin innocent with nobody suspecting a thing. I know how to play nice."

"Yeah and that was awhile ago and you're clearly years out of practice, because in all the time I've known you, you've just been a deeply weird and unsettling person.

Also you're in public in costume Barb, Use the Barbra voice, don't break character."

Already she was losing confidence in Bob's ability to follow the plan. Though Bob, if anything, seemed overconfident. He switches up his tone to a more feminine sounding one, snaking an arm over her shoulders and teasing.

"Right, I'm supposed to be your hot piece of arm candy today. Well, I wouldn't want to deprive ya of a bit of extra time alone with your girlfriend."

She had liked how he hadn't had any problem with disguising himself as a woman. After all it'd be a pretty big insult to write off your whole gender as something gross and embarrassing. Though him being a bit too into it is something her asexual antisocial ass doesn't really know what to do with. 

Least beyond getting embarrassed by it. Which in turn gets a chuckle out of Bob. 

They head in, and Bob confidently goes to take a seat at the bar, while she takes a moment to nervously scope the place out. There were a few people, not too crowded, not to empty. And they don't seem to be turning many heads.

Before going and taking a seat next to him.

Where Bob puts his arm back around her to mumbles in her ear.

"Loosen up honeymuffin, or you'll be the one making us look suspicious."

Yeah, he's right. They're supposed to at least be friends. Even in a relationship in order to explain away if Bob gets too affectionate. 

She tries taking a deep breath and calming down.

Just order something nonalcoholic and chill for awhile. Try to make some small talk. 

Despite how terrible she is at small talk in general.

Though Bob was already well aware of her not being the chatty sort. So he takes more the lead for talking with the bartender, and with her.

Though really that more ends up with him teasing her while she tries not to look too embarrassed.

At least Bob could do a pretty convincing imitation of a tough middle aged southern woman though. 

Still a relatively deep voice, but not so overt that it couldn't be passed off as "Barbra" having just being a big woman who used to smoke.

She had the feeling he'd gotten some first hand experience learning a number of nuances, and was probably doing an impression of female relatives or family friends or something from his past. 

Probably from where he'd gotten his own accent, but she didn't like to pry. 

And if she did, now wouldn't be the time for it.

Her head was still on a swivel, despite her attempts to keep it casual. It was hard not to be paranoid. Too many things that could go wrong. Bob was keeping up a conversation with the bartender, so might be a good time to stretch her legs a bit.

"I'll be right back, don't get too crazy without me Barb."

"Heh, you got it darlin."

She went to the back, and thankfully the women's bathroom was empty, so she took a moment to try and calm her nerves and catch her breath. 

It's one thing to be around Bob, worrying what he might do. But it was another to put on a cheerful facade on top of that, instead of being her usual irritable self.

She really didn't want to go back out there, and her mood is only worsened as she mentally scolds herself for her hesitancy.

It's unpleasant, but this is the better of her options. The longer she can keep Bob busy the less time he'll have for killing.

Come on.

Get back out there. 

You have to supervise the serial killer. This is your idea he's going along with. 

Just gotta have him keep his word. Shouldn't be that hard.

And even if it is, no amount of discomfort is worth an innocent persons life.

Suck it up.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror and tried smiling. It didn't last long before her face quickly sunk 

"Uggh, this is what I get for not putting any effort in with those customer service jobs when I had the chance."

Maybe she can still keep attention away from Bob and not clue people in that she's basically a hostage, while still acting like a miserable unpleasant person who'd rather eat gravel than chit-chat about the weather or the news or some shit.

She leaves the bathroom. 

“!!!!” Shit!! Someone's gone to sit with Bob! Looks like some kind of biker guy, on the big and tall side, kinda weathered looking. The kind of guy who could probably take care of himself. Her panic spikes nonetheless. 

Ok, calm down, he's out in public, he's gonna talk to some people. It's expected. Doesn't mean the worst is gonna happen yet. 

Sure he can always just overpower her if he decides to change his mind and not go along with the plan. But that hasn't happened yet.

She goes to sit down at the bar, on the other side of Bob, not interrupting his conversation with the biker guy. Just quietly listening. Supervising.

And…. Dang this dude really is just outright flirting with Bob. Guy must be into large women. 

And Bobs rolling with it. Just liking the attention and teasing the biker guy back.

Well, it's better than Bob getting offended, and he's having fun with it, so this is probably fine so long as it doesn't go anywhere. 

And she expects that this is a pretty solid bit of evidence that the Barbra disguise is working. So guess the experiment is a success. They could probably be seen in more crowded locations without people recognizing Bob.

Get him out wasting time doing random stuff so he's too busy to stalk victims.

Uggh, this means she'll have to get out of the house more to do random stuff too and - HOLY SHIT BIKER GUY JUST ASKED BOB OUT.

She'll have to mourn the loss of her weird hermit life later, because NO WAY IS SHE LETTING BOB TAKE THIS GUY TO NO SECONDARY LOCATION!!!!

Shit! How the heck is she supposed to play this off??? Uuuuuuuggghhhh this is gonna be so embarrassing. 

She puts on a pissed off face and threatens.

"Excuse me pal, that's my girlfriend you're hitting on, and believe fucking me, this…"

She gestures up and down at Bob.

"This lady right here is a lot more than you're prepared to deal with. Come on Barbra."

She grabs Bob by the hand and starts tugging him towards the door, to which Bob smiles and lets himself be led out, while the biker guy just looks kinda flabbergasted at what just happened as they quickly leave the bar.

She walks for a moment, heading towards the truck, still holding onto Bobs hand. 

Before Bob interrupts her anxious mood, saying in his normal voice, though with an additional low suggestive tone layered on, rather than his Barbra affect.

"Yuh know, I think I like you gettin jealous over me for a change."

Her face goes red. And she lets go of Bobs hand.

"Shut up Barb, it's not jealousy and you know it. I just didn’t want you hurting that man."

Bob grabs her hand again to pull her into a hug.

"Fightin over me for other reasons ain't half bad either."

#bob velseb #spooky month #inner demon #Possession #yandere

[virginpornstar]

Gay Friendships Die At 30

Once my gay best friends turn 30 the friendship is over. Doesn't matter if we've been friends for 5 years or 15+ years. Gays want to start acting different and doing immature shit we weren't even doing in our 20s. I'd rather be former friends than fake friends. So once the fake shady immature bullshit starts, I gotta exit. Well make them exit my life.

The reason this friendship ended is so stupid, and I knew it was stupid from the beginning, but I can't repair things with someone on a mission to want to destroy them.

So my BFF (well former BFF now) and I were planning to meetup in LA. I was going to already be in California anyway or a work trip, and I wanted to go to LA anyway. I had a bad experience in LA last year, and I wanted a do-over. Plus I really wanted a picture with the Hollywood sign since I didn't get one last year.

My BFF was going to be in LA because he was flying to Asia with friends for his bday trip. Which I chose not to go on since I've never really had any interest in going to Asia. Plus the trip was originally supposed to be to Europe, but he randomly changed it. I was excited to go to Europe with him, since we had originally planned to go in 2020, but Covid happened. Plus I ended up going to Europe with another friend earlier this year, and had an amazing time.

Granted I never told him I was going to Europe until after I landed there. Which was shady and passive aggressive on my part. There's been a lot of shady and passive aggressive things over the recent years, which I'm sure slowly contributed to the demise of the friendship. It's like on Insecure when Molly and Issa fell out. It didn't just suddenly happen, but a gradual buildup. I'm definitely Molly and he's Issa.

Since we were both going to be in Cali at the same time, it made sense to be there together. Even though he basically told me I was inconveniencing him with hotel costs since he was planning to spend his first night there with some random guy he was talking to there, and then then the next night with his friends that were coming.

Granted...I don't even share hotel rooms with friends when I travel. The last friend I ever shared a hotel room with was him last year. When I travel with my other friends we get our own rooms. I prefer to have my own space. My job has me spoiled with my own hotel rooms, and when I travel I just prefer to have my own room. Plus I'm a slut. I love to be able to have a guy over whenever I feel like it.

Both of us were financialy strapped, and had put off booking a room as long as possible. I had sent him a suggestion the day before I left, but he said not to book it now. He was going to look the next day. Well I was already in Cali the next day, and was starting to get anxious about not having my next hotel booked since I had to be out of my work hotel Monday.

After I woke up from my nap, I saw he'd texted me that he booked a room at a hotel by the airport. I was immediately annoyed, because I don't stay by the airport. Usually airports are so far from everything, and everything I wanted to do in LA was in the Hollywood/West Hollywood/Beverly Hills area.

Granted LA is so big, that the airport isn't even that far or inconvenient, since everything is far an inconvenient in LA. I was looking at a hotel in Koreatown, since the places I'd originally wanted in WeHo/Beverly Hills were too expensive/taken now.

So I was like whatever. I wanted to book my own room anyway since I wanted the Hotels.com/HIlton points that I'm trying to upgrade my status before the year is up. Plus when he said he booked a room already the message said "if you're interested". I interpreted that as I have the option to still book my own room.

I tried to call him for clarity, but we were on different times. So I just booked a room at the same hotel for 2 beds to be safe.

Then when he woke up he told me he'd gotten that room for his friends, and he could get us a different room at the same hotel for the same price. I told him I already booked us a room.

Then he asked the price. It was nearly $400 for 2 nights, but the double bed room was more expensive than had I just reserved a single bed room.

Then he got pissed at me because I had already booked the room and it was more expensive than whatever random site he was using. I didn't want to use the site he was using, because I'm already loyal to Hotels.com, and also it's sketchy. It like shows you pictures of a room based on how much you're willing to spend, and you pick the one that looks best, and then it tells you the details of the hotel afterwards. WTF.

Also I wanted the room in my name since I'm already in Cali and would most likely be at the hotel before him anyway. I want to be able to just get there and check in, and not have to wait for someone else to get in my room. So that's easier if it's just in my name anyway.

Then he was pissed because he didn't want to pay more to stay at the same hotel where he could get a cheaper rate, and I wasn't willing to cancel because I already booked/paid for it, and I wanted my points to upgrade my status before the year is up.

Then he got booked that I booked something else when he booked something, but he'd already told me he just booked that for his friends earlier. Then I explain that I wanted to book something ASAP since I'm already in Cali and prices are going up each day we don't have something booked. Plus he booked something at a hotel without even asking me first. I was going along to get along, by just going for the same hotel, since there were cheaper hotels in other parts of LA.

Then he said I was "acting like a bitch, but what else would he expect" for saying the "if you're interested" leaves the door open for me to book my own room. Which is my preference. Then he says "girl fuck you" to me after I say I'm not being a bitch since I went with whatever hotel he picked to book a room.

I said "if I was acting like a bitch than I would've booked the cheaper room with one bed" but instead I paid extra to make sure there were 2 beds for both of us.

Then the next morning he texts me with a fake ass apology saying he was half asleep, and was mad because he thought I'd booked a room at a different hotel in another part of LA.

WTF. You clearly complained about the price of the room I booked at the same hotel you already booked a room.

He apologized for calling me a bitch, and then quoted neNe "well I said acting like a bitch".

I sent him a meme of Molly from Insecure looking annoyed. He then doubled down on being half asleep and claimed he reread the messages. Hence his apology.

WTF. You were mad about the price. It was very explicitly clear that I had booked a room at the same hotel, and also calling me a bitch and saying "fuck you" to me was a ridiculous response for this trivial situation.

So I was annoyed his apology didn't even match what was said. Like don't say you misinterpreted what I said, when you very clearly were upset about having to spend more money at the same hotel. I don't like bullshit apologies. Honestly I don't like apologies in general. I'm a Scorpio. I'm not going to forgive you regardless, so I'd rather you just not fuck up in the first place.

So then I say that he wasn't arguing about me booking at a differnt hotel, and he was mad about me booking a more expensive price at the same hotel. Granted I don't even know if he made sure to make sure he was booking rooms with multiple beds, or just going for the cheapest price, which would've been a room with one bed. I only think he apologized because of realizing he may not have booked a room with 2 beds, and had just gone for the cheaper price.

I didn't even want to keep this argument going. But I also wasn't accepting an apology that wasn't real. Like apologize for what happened, not make up some bullshit when the texts clearly say otherwise. He kept trying to say he was sleepy and thought I booked somewhere else on the other side of LA, when the words he texted me never mentioned any of that. No one is about to gaslight me into some bullshit.

Also don't tell me you "reread" the messages, yet what your saying was never mentioned in any of the messages. So I wasn't backing down, and he kept defending his lie. then he had the audacity to say all he's apologizing for is ccalling me a bitch, and then said if I think he's such a liar than we don't even gotta link".

That was the dealbreaker for me. We didn't talk for 2 weeks after that. That is some bullshit I don't play with. Like you're my best friend of 5 years, we haven't seen each other in 5 months, and we've talked about going to LA together for years. So you're going to just essentially abandon me in LA by myself, since he had his other friends he was traveling with coming, because he refuses to apologize for the bullshit he caused and the fucked up things he said to me.

I'm an only child, so I don't mind being on my own. I actually do better that way. Thankfully I had an amazing time in LA. Both nights I met local guys that showed me a great time. I had more fun in these 2 days in LA, than I had last year when I was in LA for 2 weeks.

I did everything I wanted to do in LA. I got the pics I wanted, and when sight seeing to see the places I'd not gotten to see. I went on dates, got dick, went bar hopping in WeHo, and even went to the dispensary. I had an incredible time in LA. Regardless of my BFF abandoning me.

But I still find it incredibly fucked up that he'd even be that childish to rather we both be in the same city at the same hotel but not speaking, because he refused to apologize for what he actually said to me.

Also that's such bum nigga shit to cause an argument to get out of paying for room. Granted I already paid for it, and got my wish of my own room with one bed, so I didn't care. But this is exactly why most gay friendships end due to trips. The broke friend causes all the problems, and then the friendship is over.

But I also am pissed because i knew this was a dumb argument from the beginning. I knew that. I was willing to move on, but I also wanted the apology to be genuine and not some made up bullshit. Even re-reading the texts now this whole thing is so stupid. Yet I'm not letting someone talk to me crazy, and then refuse to apologize for acting ridiculous.

He's an egotistical Leo, and I feel like after he moved to Florida and got his own friend group. he feels like he's Regina George now. In our friendship he was always the Nicole to my Paris. Guys have literally called him my "ugly friend" to his face. Now I never viewed him as my ugly friend. He has no problem getting niggas, but I was always the more social media famous of the 2 of us.

I feel like he's even more big headed thinking he's queen b now because he's "in charge of the girls" of his friendgroup. That ain't me, never been me, and I'm not afraid to be all by myself. I don't even do friend groups, because I am a selfish bitch and don't give a fuck when people hate me. I can't fake anything to get along with a group.

Which is why I fell out with my ex BFF of 16 years. His new friends didn't like me so he chose them over me. Once he had a huge 30th bday, and invited all of his friends from all over the country, but didn't invite or tell me about the party, when I had just taken him out to lunch for his bday the week before, then I was done. We're clearly not friends if you're not inviting me to your big milestone events you planned celebrating yourself, and then not even having the respect to tell me. I had to find out on social media. WTF. That's so childish, and high school. We're in our 30s. We weren't even doing fake shit like that in high school or our 20s. Yeah...I just saw the best option was to end the friendship.

Now with this. I didn't want to end the friendship. After 2 weeks of not talking I sent him the mughshot I found of Zimbabwe. He's the only person that I could talk to about Zimbabwe that would understand. I'd already given up on expecting my BFF to take accountability or genuinely apologize for what he really said. I was just ready to sweep it under the rug and move on. We'd already not spoken in 2 weeks, and we'd both been on multiple trips. We'd missed out on so much of each other's lives already, and LA has passed.

But he refused to move on. He said he's not ready to talk to me until we revisit our previous argument. WTF. It's been 2 full weeks...I don't even care anymore.

Then I say "I'm not sure what's left to revisit. You started unnecessary drama, refused to apologize for what you actually said, and then didn't want t hangout with each other in LA and we didn't...

Then he says "yeah I'm cool on you. So I was petty and responded with "k" and then blocked him everywhere.

I'm over it. LIke I'm not waiting for a 30 year old man to decide when he's ready to be my friend again, when this drama was caused by him.

I was rude and inconsiderate. I knew his financial limitations, and didn't care because I wanted to book my own room for my own benefits.

Still I don't think that warranted being called a "bitch" or having him say "fuck you" to me, on top of saying he didn't even want to see each other while in LA. That's the part that really pissed me off, because I would've never said that to my best friend. Like petty drama over money isn't going to make me want to not see you while we're in the same fucking city and haven't seen each other in 5 months. Then being in the same hotel at the same time, and not speaking. Like we both still had each other's locations and were in the same fucking hotel at the same time.

It's so stupid and petty, and we both decided to escalate the drama instead of neutralizing it. Well I feel like I tried to neutralize it. I said early on that I don't want to dwell on this drama, but I'd rather if he's going to apologize to apologize for what he actually said.

I hate liars more than anything. You're not going to lie and say you're mad over a reason which literally had nothing to do with anything you said the night before. Read the fucking texts. The whole convo was in text. Right there. You're clearly mad because you didn't want to pay more when you could pay less. Don't make up some bullshit saying you thought I booked somewhere else, and then keep doubling down on the lie.

He is being a Lying Leo. That's a fact. He's clearly lying. It's there in print. That gaslighting me bullshit is what really set me off. Like all you had to do was apologize for the truth, instead of continuing to perpetuate a lie. Then this could've all been avoided.

Then we're not getting that time in LA back. it's not like we can just go fly across the country again next week. Like to miss out on that time together that we aren't going to get back, over this dumb shit also really pisses me off. Like I would've never said I don't want to see you while in LA. Especially not over this dumb shit.

Then the fact that weeks have gone by, and I'm sending you messages and want to move on and talk like normal, and he's continuing to want to stay in this negative space and keep having the same damn argument.

Like you're still not telling the truth or taking accountability. Then on top of that LA is gone. We didn't see or speak to each other, despite being in the same hotel in the same city. There's no point still arguing over a trip that not only passed, but we both had other trips since then. Like it's the past.

All I wanted was to have my best friend back to gossip about more dead gays in Atlanta, and to talk about my ex that's been in jail for months.

Instead he wants to keep having this same dumb argument, and i'm over it. Again. I refuse to wait for a 30 year old man to decide when he wants to be my friend again. Especially when he's mad about the drama he started.

I don't give a fuck how mad you are...don't disrespect me by calling me a "bitch" or saying "fuck you" to me, and then saying you don't even want to see me while we're in the same city. I have blocked many gays for flaking on plans with me.

I don't think the disrespect I received was warranted with this petty drama, and then the fact you'd be fine just leaving me alone in LA because you knew you had other friends coming was fucked up. On top of refusing to move the fuck on when weeks have passed.

Yeah. Friendship over. This is so immature and stupid, but gays don't mature with age. Yet another of my closest gay friendships has died.

I'm also probably less motivated to salvage the friendship because I've been fucking this guy he really likes behind his back for months.

I really am a terrible friend. That's always been my biggest fear with gay friendships was having my friend fuck my man behind my back. 2 of my exes tried to fuck my BFF to get back at me, and he valued our friendship enough to resist.

Yet I was weak. Maybe not weak because it involved not temptation, as much as giving into dark urges to self sabotage. 2023 has been my year of chaos. Choosing chaos any chance I get. Blowing everything in my life up, and then finding order amongst the pieces.

I have no choice but to take accountability for my own actions in the demise the closest friendship I've had for the past 5 years. I'm still devastated things ended this way, or that I made the choices I made. I really thought he'd be my best man at my wedding...if that ever happens.

Yet that's the Scorpio way. We can't keep a friend...

#BFF #Best Friend #end of a friendship #ending a friendship #friend breakup #bad friend #toxic friendship #ex bff #ex freind #former friend #fake friend #toxic friend #toxic friends #gay #gay black #black gay men #gay men #gay blog #gay blogger

[thychesters]

ok backlog of thoughts on the one piece arcs i did not think to liveblog! putting a bunch under a read more because this got long and i don’t want to make a ton of separate posts for retroactive takes.

- luffy really just set out to sea with the thought process of “if i die well lmao.” decidedly unlmao, but don’t tell him that. he also immediately decided koby made a perfect punching bag

- the entire exchange with zoro was basically “join my crew!” “no.” “i think you should.” “guess i have absolutely no choice but to join.” and that is now their entire story

- luffy getting anyone to join his crew is basically just that gif that cuts between bryan cranston dancing and pointing at himself. luffy isn’t asking, either. welcome to the crew, you start in an hour.

- also, love this dinghy. two dudes, chilling in a small boat two feet apart because there’s no room. luffy’s having a blast with his two man crew and zoro’s just along for the ride. completely unfazed. gonna work on his tan and nap.

- also, also. they showed it later in the anime but it was the first thing in the manga, but luffy stabbing himself in the face. see, i remember reading the first volume in middle school so i was waiting for that scene. i also had vague memories of other characters like zoro and sanji, so it was nice to see them appear again. not so nice to remember my first introduction to one piece was the 4kids version lmao

- i love makino. this woman is like 20 on the outside but you know after dealing with luffy and shanks & co. she’s gotta be feeling 50 on the inside. i hope she gets to hit someone with a broom at some point. or go on vacation.

- shanks is like the cool uncle you’ll let watch your kid for a few hours, but only because you called another adult to watch shanks. the dude leaves a devil fruit on the bar in plain view of a hungry child and goes yep, surely nothing will come of this. of course he fuckin’ ate it. freaked out for a minute and went damn, well what can you do lol this is inconvenient

- these bandits coming into the bar and giving shanks shit, only to have luffy give the leader shit back and the guy decides well! guess i, a grown man, have no choice but to beat up a child.

(karma said lmao)

- nami showed up and said she’ll fuck luffy’s shit up if she has to. and then she did. good for her.

- i think the introduction of buggy was the first time i really went oh, so we’re weird weird here, huh. i mean, with a name like “buggy the clown” being taken seriously that’s when it clicked. AND THEN HE STABS THE STRAW HAT? sir you’ve crossed a line. luffy’s gonna chop chop your head clean off and drop it in the ocean.

- when i got to the syrup village/kuro arc i was like damn, how long is this battle. oh you fool, you pathetic fool. you knew nothing.

- jango got sent after some kids to go kill them and like. not for nothing but if i had a nickel for every time someone went after a kid in this show ...

- ok but when kuro was doing his whoosh whoosh invisible move or whatever the hell it was, why didn’t someone just get out a stick and trip him. fight’s a lot shorter then.

- zoro’s backstory thus far is just here’s his friend! and now she’s dead! he has no friends but he has a dream! he + the others need therapists.

- see when we got to sanji i knew him!! i remembered this man. 4kids also gave him lollipops instead of cigarettes. lolly suckin’ loser. love zeff too. between the anime and manga i’m not sure which canon i want to lean into more: him severing his foot to save sanji, or him eating it.

- mihawk fight!! the way luffy SCREAMED when zoro nearly got slashed in half and the weight behind “i will never be defeated again. YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT, KING OF THE PIRATES?!” ohhh these two boys in a dinghy. there are a lot of promises being passed back and forth.

- the don krieg fight! idk that guy was just annoying. not much else to say about that aside being glad when it was over. also hilarious how for each of these fights everyone took their turns. like no, no, like mihawk and zoro fight, and then we’ll go next. and meanwhile those not involved are just pivoting to watch each fight.

- i feel so bad for baby sanji. i still want to study the grown man like a bug, but that baby has been through a lot. (hey, so, does this show hate kids or something.)

- arlong park! ok this was the first arc that really shows how deep the story can get, i think, or at least the first glimpse into it. this was more than “i took over this town to get some money.” this was using a young child to get something he wanted and her using him in return. and she had to work for the man who murdered her mother! who he shot right in front of her and then laughed and dragged her away!

- zoro beat up a bunch of fishmen because he got BORED. luffy told him to wait and “what do you do while i’m gone?” “wait for you to get back” except there are bodies everywhere

- NAMI STABBED HERSELF IN THE ARM SO MANY TIMES how does she not have serious muscle pain after that? AND THEN LUFFY GIVES HER HIS HAT. that’s the first time we’ve seen that one. oh my god

- also zoro is still heavily wounded from his fight with mihawk, arlong rips his bandages off and even he’s shocked he’s alive, nami and the others are horrified, and then luffy just fuckin’ tosses him into the ocean

- luffy’s secret move in a boss battle is just to piss them off. what’s the difference between their species? idk, noses? he’s going to break arlong’s. AND HE DID.

- luffy: “huh, maybe we should get a doctor on our crew first instead of a musician.” zoro, getting his innards sewn back in: “why do you say that?”

- he’s so excited about his bounty! good for him. he’s a wanted man.

- i like this smoker dude. seems like an okay guy.

- roronoa “can i borrow money but also jk i got two swords for FREE” zoro who has so much debt his credit score has plummeted. he’s never going to be able to financially recover from this.

- usopp v daddy fight. words i didn’t think i would say and yet.

- only luffy would nearly get executed and treat it as a “WHOOPS LMAOOOO” only to have an act of god save his life.

- the millenial dragons arc. oh my god. why does apis SCREAM LIKE THAT. they spend five episodes going back and forth to two different islands. “is this the right one? oh jk actually it’s the one we just came from.” is this what hell is like

- because sailing UP a mountain into the grand line makes perfect sense

- THE WHISKY PEAK STORY AHHHH the first moment where luffy jumps to conclusions and zoro doesn’t get a chance to explain himself, but also why should he have to? and luffy yells that he’s going to kill him? they’re supposed to trust one another implicitly! since day one! and then luffy punches him in the face and he’s not holding back and neither his zoro

- luffy says “i’m going to beat the shit out of you” and zoro says “go ahead and try” and nami says “WATCH THIS”

- love that vivi’s like don’t say his name too loud! and luffy immediately goes “who, CROCODILE?”

- an island with dinosaurs. because it just makes sense.

and that’s about caught up to where i started blogging during little garden

#kate watches op #one piece #can you believe i only started watching this show because i had the one piece 4kids rap stuck in my head #and now three months later i'm on the skypiea arc #listen you're getting typos whether you like it or not. i breezed through this thing as best i could LMAO #i was gonna plug fic links into where they feel into the given timeline but that felt a little gratuitous #romance dawn #east blue #grand line

[blackbirdsaltzman]

a nd!jj (this could be adhd or autism) hc of mine is that she always has new interests and hobbies and she will be like extremely fixated on them for a while (putting them above anything else) but also has a huge tendency to leave things unfinished which would result in her starting big projects (ex.gardening) and then them just being left lying around never to be touched again in a few days/weeks/months. when she was a kid instead of her parents supporting her and helping her not to loose focus when working on something they would always scoff and roll their eyes when she tried to start a new project relating to one of her special interests. her parents always made her feel guilty about that trait and now she is incredibly insecure about it. so much that now she tries to suppress all of her special interests in fears of annoying or bothering other people and being a burden :(

it would be amazing if u could write a fic where elle/emily is her gf and lives with her and can just feel the insecurity radiating off of jj whenever there is talk about special intrests. eventually they find out why and then try to support jj in every way possible to help finish her projects, they always make sure she isn’t losing focus and if she is too focused they remind her to have something to eat and drink and overall just let her ramble about things that are important to her <3.

woah, this was long

I love this. ADHD JJ and autistic JJ are my loves. She deserves so much love and support. She 10000% has special interests but her parents have made her feel weird for having them so she repressed them. She doesn’t want to seem inconvenient to anyone, especially her significant other. Elle was definitely the first one to notice when JJ would slowly stop talking about something and isolate herself like something was. Elle is just so soft and holds JJ letting her know that she wants to hear about them and it’s not stupid.

Mi Amor ~ JJ x Elle

(CW: Mild meltdown, harmful stimming, autistic Jennifer Jareau, ableism)

Elle walks through the door of the apartment hoping JJ is already ready to go. They’re supposed to be meeting the team in 30 minutes at the restaurant, so she knows they are going to be pushing it and she has to get ready fast. She makes her way into the living room seeing JJ curled up on the couch, but luckily dressed and ready to go.

“Hey, amor.” She smiles as JJ fidgets with her fingers.

“I’m going to go change real quick and then we’ll leave.” She adds kissing the top of the blonde head before heading to their bedroom. She makes quick work of changing before heading back out to the younger woman.

“How was your day?” She asked as she drives them through the city. JJ had a mandatory day off so she wasn’t at the bau.

“Okay,” JJ whispers not fully engaging. Elle looks over concerned but drops it for the moment. They get to the restaurant and meet up with the rest of the team who was already there. JJ curls into Elle as they sit down in the corner. She starts to mess with the brunette’s hair as everyone else begins to talk. She feels the nagging and buzzing feeling of a meltdown coming but she doesn’t want to ruin everyone’s night.

“JJ you like hockey don’t you?” She shoots her head up seeing the whole team looking at her. She shrugs but Morgan pushes.

“You were just talking about the Capitals and Penguins game the other day. You said you grew up a huge penguins fan but since moving here you became a capitals fan.” JJ blinks but doesn’t respond as she tightens her grip on Elle.

“What about the islanders kiddo?” Rossi asks as JJ grunts.

“Jen, you okay?” Elle whispers noticing the anxiety radiating off her girlfriend. JJ tugs on her hair not wanting to show weakness.

“Jen honey you know you can’t do that,” Elle whispers firmly but softly taking the blonde’s hands in hers.

“JJ are you no longer a hockey fan? That’s a big thing to change?” Spencer asks causing JJ to fully go into a meltdown. JJ begins to throw herself back against the booth and bite down on her lip causing Elle to wince.

“No, no love.” She states trying to keep the blonde still but JJ whines fighting against the older woman’s grip.

“I’m gonna take her outside for a minute.” Elle quickly states to the team before easily getting the blonde out to fresh air.

“Amor calm down. You’re okay.” She hushes tracing patterns on the blonde’s hands.

“No talk!” JJ cries.

“Shh we don’t have to talk about hockey anymore. Can you tell me what caused this?” Elle asks. She knew her girlfriend still loved hockey but recently hasn’t been talking about it as much.

“Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” JJ cries trying to hit herself but Elle quickly takes her hands.

“Baby it’s not stupid. Do you want to go home to calm down?” JJ nods.

~ Few Days Later ~

“Amor you know they weren’t right?” Elle asks. She finally learned how JJ’s parents treated JJ’s autism in her childhood and she’s beyond angry but trying to stay calm for the younger woman.

“Not normal,” JJ states not looking up from the craft she’s doing.

“You’re not but JJ that’s what makes you, you and I wouldn’t change a single thing. You’re perfect the way you are.” Elle states lifting the blonde’s chin to meet her eyes.

“Come on mi amor, let’s go eat as you haven’t today.” She states smiling softly.

#jennifer jareau #elle greenaway #jelle #autistic Jennifer Jareau #my asks besties

[vanaglorie]

"Hahaha, don't you just like me because I'm being nice to you?" It's mostly a joke, but there's some sort of truth beneath those words and warm smile. It may have been one of Dino's concerns regarding the other's visible show of attraction.

The two of them are in Dino's office, as is their daily routine at this point. While Byakuran doesn't have any responsibilities to carry out, his favourite activity of choice is to — obviously — bother Dino. Byakuran had been lounging on the plush sofa, usually reserved for welcoming and entertaining guests, when the question suddenly came up in the conversation, seemingly in response to something he had said about liking Dino because he'd said something that made him laugh.

It's not a habit of Byakuran's to hide his feelings. If something is funny, he laughs. If he's happy, he smiles. If something makes him angry or annoys him, he deals with it. Similarly, this attraction he has towards Dino is a reality he's come to terms with already, and Byakuran isn't embarrassed about showing it.

He wants to be around Dino, wants to hear his voice, see him smile, make him laugh, share in his burdens. And so far, Dino has had no objections about the time they spend together. They've gotten to know each other quite well over the course of his time here, so why not enjoy these precious moments, while he still can?

They've had their fair share of thought-provoking conversations, and even some absolutely ridiculous ones. For the first time though, something about Dino's question irks him.

Byakuran tilts his head to the side, eyes narrowing as an amused smile tugs on his lips. He senses that Dino's trying to make a joke out of it in an effort to play it off as an insignificant question, but he knows this isn't the kind of question you just ask for fun.

Byakuran stands up from his seat, and makes his way over to the desk that Dino is sitting behind. "Ah, so you think I like you just because you're nice? That I may be confusing indebtedness with adoration because you saved my life?" He stops and places both arms on the desk, before leaning over and closer to the man, this object of his affections. "You think I would be swept off my feet by such heroics?"

Before the other man can respond with some other ridiculous sentiment, Byakuran reaches over and hooks his index under Dino's chin, nudging gently to tilt his head upwards, urging him to meet his gaze.

"I like you because you are strong, because you are kind; you see the best in me even when I don't deserve it. You are a good leader who works too hard and selflessly. My wasted heart has chosen to inconvenience itself with the deliberate choice of caring for you.” His grip tightens ever so slightly. The look in his eyes is earnest and firm. "So, don’t think so lightly of me, and don’t think I like you only because you're "nice" to me.”

He lets go of Dino with a smile. While Byakuran has made a show of expressing his obvious interest in Dino, this is the first time he’s put those feelings into words. The question of whether Dino would ever return his feelings isn't one that Byakuran has, perhaps surprisingly to some, dwelled on for very long. Because it doesn't matter. There are probably a thousand reasons why reciprocating the feelings from someone like him is a bad idea, and he wouldn’t be able to blame Dino for any of them.

#answered #dyingresolve: dino #dyingresolve #( ` does this count as an official confession kek )

[foxtricksterwriting]

Mata Aetara MC; Hayanori Kajiyama

Author's Note: 4 of 4, will link the others Below. I can't get over how freaky this boy can be like SHIT what have I done? Be warned, they'll stare straight through you lmao

| 1; Mao Amachi | 2; Eiichi Itani | 3; Aina Kubota | 4; Here |

Credits: This is a MC for the interactive fiction game/book Mata Aetara, found @mata-aetara-if. Check it out if you like Naruto!

Preferred Name: Hayanori Kajiyama ("Nice to meet you....")

Alias: Nori

Gender + Pronouns: demiboy + he/they

Sexuality: gay

Chakra Affinity: wind

Summoned Animal: A raven

Weapon: kunai

Romance: Inoru/Ryoku

More About Him: It’s hard for Hayanori to express his emotions. People question whether he feels at all. Their speaking voice is monotone, not giving away their thoughts or feelings much to their dismay. This leads to them outright stating how they feel, with sometimes comedic timing. He often misses social cues and generally has a hard time reading the room. If he says something wrong he’s quick to apologize, but might not get why whatever he said is wrong and would ask someone to properly explain it. They can be a bit too blunt, which can also upset people. Nori often does things to show people that they care for them and ended up becoming a medical ninja due to the reasoning “What better way to show people I care for them than physically taking care of them when they’re hurt?”

When not worrying over people’s wellbeing, he likes to play pranks on others and generally be a menace. Notable examples are moving objects people put down to inconvenient spots, chasing people around with bugs and making noises to purposely annoy people. This tendency to cause trouble for others and his blank expression makes people think he’s quite creepy. They don’t mean any real harm to others. He just thinks it's funny to mess with people.

Fun Facts:

Pinterest here

First name can mean “Fast love/affection” and surname can mean “Key mountain”

Has really big eyes, like arachnidray on tiktok (Videos for reference)

Speaking of eyes, can go an excruciatingly long time without blinking and likes scaring people he doesn’t like by staring into their soul.

Idk but I have this scene in my mind where Nori is eating something and it gets smacked out of their hand. They stare at it for an awkward amount of time before just saying “sadness” and walking away lmaoo

Nori is inspired by Souichi from Junji Ito’s works and Sai from Shippuden.

If someone wants to vent to them, they’ll ask “do you want advice? Or do you just want to get it off your chest?” so he don’t accidentally give unwanted advice.

Uses writing as an emotional outlet; because their writing is like a glimpse into their mind, he’s very protective of his notebook and only lets close friends read whatever’s inside. ("No, you may not look in my notebook. Do not ask again.")

Has very colorful clothes and a surprisingly big closet. Will let people borrow or even keep his clothes, provided that they fit.

Eats because they need to, not because he wants to. Also doesn’t have a favorite food. They do have a favorite drink, it’s watermelon juice. ("For me? Thank you. This makes me happy...")

On the topic of food, his taste buds are fucking broken. Most things either taste bad or have no taste at all to him. If you give him a lemon, they’ll eat it like an orange. Same with a lime.

#MC #MC: Hayanori #MC: Nori

[divorcingjimmatthews]

A, e, k and L for the otp ask for my very own otp jade and Diane!!!!

OMG ffdsfs thank you so much for the ask Mel I love rambling about them so much 🥺🥺 This is long, be prepared.

A: How long did it take for them to get together?

Officially? They don't get together until two or so months post-escape, because neither of them is concerned with the status of their love life while they're trapped in the town. In practise, though, they become each other's comfort person pretty fast... they don't talk about what any of it means, but Diane is always there to hold Jade after a vision or a nightmare, and Jade is always quietly keeping her company because he knows she doesn't know how to ask for help or admit that she's struggling. Once they're out, they each have their own lives to get back to, and that makes them drift a little apart—should they be trying to move on from what happened? Maybe. But they miss each other like crazy so it's only a matter of time before they're sleeping in each other's arms again.

E: What AU would you want this couple involved in?

OK this is my moment — Fantasy au. The town is an enchanted kingdom under a mysterious curse and it's been like that for a long time. Jade would be an alchemist obsessed with finding a way to lift the curse when everyone else has given up (he used to be a wealthy man, has since spent most of his fortune in his experiments) and Diane would be a badass knight in the city guard (the guards in the day shift are cop-coded jerks, while the ones in the night shift fight the nightmare creatures and are shrouded in mystery). They meet when Jade gets himself in trouble while investigating and can't get back home in time: Diane saves him and escorts him back to his place, where he shows her his experiments. She dismisses him at first but then she grows intrigued — big mistake. She will never know peace again.

From that moment on, Jade keeps reaching out to her to get special access to off-limits areas, books and documents. She keeps helping him because she knows things are getting worse and they need a solution and also because he's cute and she wants to keep seeing him. Visual vibes: Netflix's Castlevania or OUAT.

K: Who's faster to get jealous?

Jade absolutely. I don't think either of them are the jealous type but Jade would get super offended if he feels like Diane is paying him less attention than usual. He thinks he's sooo above it but one singular day where Diane is too busy to hang out and he'd already be thinking "where are my kisses from Girlfriend who I love so much???". Man's clingy but he'll deal. He'll hug her extra tight that night.

L: When did they first start having feelings for each other?

Jade got the biggest crush on Diane years ago when they first met (she's a firefighter, and she rescued him from a fire at a fancy new year's party in NYC), which he tries to play off as nothing more than an annoying inconvenience*. Diane barely remembers him, but it doesn't take her long to see there's something warm and special about him while he's keeping her company at the clinic. She can listen to him talk for hours and it puts a smile in her face. Catguy venting ASMR? Apparently. Either way, that's how they both know that she's about to fall hard.

--

* "You know, it's a good thing that we met here, because if we met anywhere else then I'd probably be tripping over myself trying to impress you." (Proceeds to move to close a curtain, immediately trips and falls over. Diane starts mentally planning the wedding.)

#jade x diane #oc tag #asks