Please enjoy my second favourite turtle! 💕

Out Tonight (Part 6)

K!nktober 2020 Kink Bingo!: Nipple Play

<- Part 5

Summary: Backstory, Spanish lessons, and finally some sober sex! 🥳 (This chapter is very NSFW/18+)

For @thatesqcrush​​’s Kink Bingo challenge! And with this, I finally finish a row! 

5,420 words

The twenty-minute coffee date Rafael Barba had been dreading somehow turned into hours without him realizing it. The summer morning passed quickly until the sun was at its zenith above the turtle pond, and all of the work-related responsibilities he would have been grinding himself to death on had slipped his mind as he wandered through the park with your hand in his.

It turned out that you did have a few things in common. You both grew up in the Bronx. Though when you told him where, he snorted and joked, “What is an upstanding young lady from Spuyten Duyvil doing with a boy from the projects?”

Your jaw dropped when he told you what neighborhood he grew up in. It was an area you were familiar with mainly as a place to avoid, especially, god forbid, at night. The clean-cut lawyer in a sharp suit did not look anything like what you’d expect from the poverty he came from. You just assumed his family was wealthy.

“That’s incredible,” you said, a new surge of admiration for him stoking the fire of your attraction. You scooted closer on the shaded bench beneath a tall oak you’d stopped to sit on, your bare leg pressing against his slacks. You still hadn’t kissed, everything just barely skirting the romantic. The touch of his hand shot electricity through your skin, just from his fingers brushing yours. Neither of you wanted to push things too far, too fast, considering the guilt still lingering between you. “You must be a genius.”

Instead of boasting with the sly, cocky grin you had learned was among his favorite facial expressions, he grew serious, all but a trace of a smile leaving his lips. “I just worked hard,” he said.

“Really hard,” you said, knowingly, squeezing his hand. “Even people who work hard, who are smart… it’s almost impossible to escape that kind of poverty. The fact that you did it is…”

His inquisitive eyes, matching the foliage behind him, were strained as if deciding whether to share something or not. But he did, quietly. “I still work hard. Every day. It feels like if I make one false step, everything could fall apart. But, I have enough to support my mother.”

“And an impressive collection of ties,” you chimed.

He smirked, lifting your hand to casually press a kiss to the back of your knuckles. “And suspenders.”

Your pulse raced. Looking up and down this flawlessly stylish man, it all made sense. “Dressed to kill,” you muttered. “You wear it like a disguise.”

He frowned, the warmth leaving his eyes. You had touched a nerve. “Would it be a disguise if you wore it, or just because I’ll always be poor deep down?”

“I didn’t mean—OK, I get how that sounded. I just mean… you are exceptionally attractive. Like, really attractive. I mean, why am I telling you? You know that. Look at you.” You continued the obsequious flattery until a sarcastic smile appeared in the corner of his lips. “You know, actually,” you admitted, “I only grew up in a good neighborhood because my dad re-married rich. The weeks I was with my mom… she worked three jobs just to support me and a crummy apartment. I could never actually count on what the step-family would pay for, so sometimes I rode on boats with rich people, and sometimes I lived off canned pasta. It was weird.”

He looked at you appraisingly as he assimilated this new tidbit of information. “It isn’t easy, straddling two worlds.”

“Except you worked your ass off to break into one, and I ran away into the woods and got really into trees. Trees don’t judge you for not fitting in.”

“I’m sorry for judging you,” he whispered, his voice turning surprisingly tender. He lifted a hand and gently brought it to your cheek. You closed your eyes as it made contact, his palm warm against your skin, the pad of his thumb soft as it began stroking your cheek. You leaned forward, and he closed the remaining distance, his lips capturing yours, slow and sweet. It was chaste at first, and careful, but neither of you wanted to break it, and as it continued, his arms wrapped around the small of your back and your shoulder, drawing you in deeper as his heady scent enveloped you, the taste of coffee on his tongue as his lips parted.

“Barba?”

Rafael practically jumped out of your arms as an inquisitive voice called his name, leaving you kissing the air. The voice belonged to a tall brunette woman pushing a toddler along in a stroller.

“Liv!” he practically shrieked in alarm, straightening himself.

You looked between them and the kid, and felt like such an idiot. “Oh my god, you are cheating!”

Liv gave you a look, and burst out laughing. “Sorry, sorry, nothing like that. I’m Sergeant Benson, SVU,” she extended you a firm handshake and explained, “I work with Barba on a lot of cases.” She turned back to Barba with an amused smirk. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your date, I just couldn’t believe my eyes. Counselor, I didn’t realize you had a personal life.”

“It’s a new thing I’m trying. How’s Noah?”

“He’s perfect,” she smiled, cooing at the curly-haired child. “He loves the turtles, so we’re going down to the pond. Beautiful day for a nature walk.”

“She knows every tree,” Barba volunteered, puffing his chest out with the same cockiness he used to talk about himself, tipping his head at you. “Go ahead, test her.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Liv said, bemused. She gave a polite nod and a reminder that she still owed Barba a coffee for some legal thing he had come through on (which only gave you a slight pang of jealousy), and then waved goodbye, walking down the path toward the water.

You sat in silence, recovering. Barba was obviously scandalized to have been caught in a compromising position by a colleague, the tips of his ears turning red. You were glad she wasn’t his wife, but didn’t love having to suddenly confront the fact that he had an entire social life you knew absolutely nothing about. It sort of ruined the intimacy of the moment, tearing the cardboard moon out of your sky too soon.

Barba broke the silence first with a low, drawn-out groan. He turned to you, his eyes soft but flashing with passion, taking your hands in his again. “If we start seeing each other… there is a good chance you will get to know Liv in some capacity.” He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, and on the exhale beseeched, “You cannot tell her how we met.”

The earnestness with which he implored you, holding both your hands, made you burst out laughing. He did a poor job hiding his smile as he watched you double over. When you finally contained yourself, you pecked an innocent kiss to his lips. “We can say we met at a bar. We don’t have to mention all the, uh...” Karaoke. Drunken shenanigans. Dubious consent. Whatever you call we-didn’t-have-penis-in-vagina-sex-but-you-fingered-me-until-we-orgasmed. He grimaced with you as you both recalled all of the things you would not be telling anyone about your meet-cute. Then you started remembering his fingers gliding in and out of you, his hungry lips marking up your skin, and a warm shiver ran down your back. He swallowed, seeing the lustful heaviness creep into your eyes and responding with his own.

He nearly kissed you again, wrapping you in a passionate embrace that would have hastened you to a bedroom, but you pulled back. He said “seeing each other.” You thought this was a fun fling with no strings attached, and the idea that he was already thinking about more made your heart sink with guilt. “I should tell you...”

You never got to finish your thought. Liv had only gotten fifty feet when her phone rang. She was yelling into it frantically, demanding answers. Barba’s phone buzzed with an incoming message. Liv stormed back up the path, waving to him. “There’s been a… development,” she said, censoring the case details in your presence. “They need me at the precinct. You’re probably going to want to come, too.”

“I believe I am already being summoned,” he replied, checking his phone.

“Good. I need to call the sitter. Please let everyone know I’m on my way.” She hurried off, and any hint of flirtation was gone from Barba’s eyes as he stood, fully back in cold lawyer mode as he made a phone call, then another to order a Lyft.

He was already walking with quick, purposeful steps toward the nearest exit of the park when he hung up his last call and turned back to you apologetically. You had been trailing behind him, unsure if he wanted you to follow, and didn’t miss that you were an afterthought. But his regret was sincere. And the truth was, you didn’t mind this serious version of Barba at all—the sober Barba who poured his soul into getting justice and would forget a date he had been enjoying the instant duty called—because you’d seen the drunk version who fell apart, sobbing in your arms when he let down the victims. He had a hard side and a soft side, and so far, there was nothing about him that you didn’t like.

Oh god, you had a crush on him.

“I’m sorry, I have to go. It’s an emergency,” he explained, brow furrowed heavily over yearning green eyes.

Oh god, this was only supposed to be a one-night stand. Maybe a few nights, but a stand nonetheless. How dare he look at you like that?

“It’s alright. It sounds important,” you half smiled.

“Can I call you later?” he asked. His hands were shoved into his pockets, and he had none of the confident swagger usually in his voice. It was a small, hopeful sort of question that told you there were real emotional stakes to your answer.

Oh god, did he have a crush on you, too? Did you have a crush on each other? This was terrible!

Drawn in as if by a magnetic pull, you closed the short distance, threaded your hands between his arms and body, and clasped them together behind his back. His lips quirked as his confidence returned. His hands cupped the sides of your face, then his mouth crashed against yours, fired with all of the passion of desire realized and reciprocated, relief, and longing. It was the type of kiss that would have been drawn out and sensual if it hadn’t been condensed by necessity into a hurried goodbye. You were out of breath and overheated when he broke it, seconds later.

“I’ll be waiting,” you breathed. He gave a hungry growl and a sharp, promising stare that sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core before running to catch his ride.

***

Barba hated intelligent psychopaths. Even after they’d been put away, there was always some new appeal to fight, a new witness to come forward, some clever misdirection to cast their crimes into doubt. He’d been running around since noon working out deals with witnesses, obtaining warrants, and warning Liv’s detectives that they were being played. Now the sun was hanging low in the sky, and he realized he had never heard Carmen’s futile warning for him to go home already because his secretary didn’t work on weekends when he was pulling overtime. It was just him and his headache.

The time. What time was it?

He sat bolt upright in his leather office chair and groped for his phone. There was a notification from you from an hour ago that he vaguely recalled hearing buzz.

“How’s the emergency?”

He cursed and checked the time. It was getting late. Too late to make a reservation at any of the swankier restaurants he could take you. But he called you anyway, and was delighted when you answered.

“Hey. It’s Barba,” he said.

“I know,” said your amused voice on the other end of the line. “Your contact is in my phone, Sexy Karaoke Lawyer.”

He groaned in a way that was secretly a laugh. “Alright, Lorax. Are you free tonight? I’d like to take you to dinner. Actually, I thought I could make dinner. At my place?”

You gasped with mock scandalization. “Is this a booty call, Mr. Barba?”

He choked. “No. I just—” He stopped stammering when you started cackling like a grinning idiot, and his voice dropped low. “What if it is?”

The sudden shift in confidence caught you off guard, and he heard you swallow. “Then I’ll be there.”

***

It had been ages since he’d had time to make his abuelita’s costillas de puerco recipe. Or rather, it had been ages since he’d made time, considering he hardly had the time to do it now. He rushed through the corner deli at lightning pace to pick up what he needed, and rushed through prep, knowing you’d be over in less than an hour.

He had no idea why he felt such a drive to impress you. Why he needed to see you again so soon when you’d spent hours by his side that morning. The entire short time he had known you had been strange, anxiety-inducing, and guilt-ridden, but instead of hating you, he found himself wanting more.

The truth he didn’t want to admit was, every interaction with you, no matter how awkward, had been underscored by a potent sexual chemistry, and at the moment, he was nothing but a horny teenage boy who wanted to get laid.

That was all. This was some mid-forties hormonal resurgence. Madre de dios, it was a midlife crisis.

Or maybe this was what happened when he stopped getting in his own way. He’d spent years nursing a broken heart, years that turned into decades guarding himself against anyone getting too close. He never thought he’d feel this way again for somebody new. It was too late in life to meet someone who would know him as well as his childhood friends from el barrio, and they were all married by now. But he’d opened himself up just an inch, just for a night, by mistake, and let someone see past the hard, cynical facade, and now he wanted you to know him. He wanted to know you. He wanted to see how this ended. Maybe this was a revelation.

His heart jumped in his chest at the buzz of the door intercom.

***

“Hola, Rafael,” you greeted, and he grinned at the way you pronounced his name with the correct accent. “Oh my gosh, what smells amazing?”

He stood aside and nodded you in. The apartment was tiny, as most city apartments are, but tidy and well decorated. You were immediately drawn to the sturdy dining room table made of solid burl, and admired the natural chaotic pattern of the grain.

“It needs fifteen more minutes,” he said, observing with amusement how you completely ignored the good silver he’d broken out and started stroking the wood.

“What ever shall we do to pass the time?” you pouted innocently. Barba growled low in his throat, cupping a hand around your hip to draw you close, and you responded by pressing your hips flush against his, smiling lustily. Well, you had more or less agreed that dinner was a pretense for a booty call—no reason not to get right to it.

You hadn’t changed, but he was wearing a more casual wine-colored cashmere sweater, and you ran your hand up it, relishing the velvet softness under your palm as well as the shape of his chest. His lips met yours hot and searching, but didn’t stop there. They trailed over the side of your mouth, kissing down your jaw. He pressed wet, hungry kisses along your neck, and you moaned as his tongue lapped over the soft underside of your throat, his hands gliding over your hips. He pulled back by an inch. “Are you sure… you want this?” he murmured.

“God yes,” you moaned with your lips in his perfect salt-and-pepper hair, arousal raising your temperature as your body responded to his touch. “You haven’t been drinking this time?”

“Not a drop,” he replied huskily, somehow making it sound lewd as he resumed kissing the crook of your neck, and over your shoulder. You curled your fingers through his hair, and backed you up until your legs hit the edge of the table, and rested your weight against it, enjoying the feeling of being pinned as you angled your pelvis to grind against his growing erection.

“Oh, Rafa...” you moaned. “Can I call you Rafa?” you asked, not sure if the nickname was too personal. With the emotional baggage of your first night together, you hadn’t been sure if being on a first-name basis was respectful enough.

“You can call me anything you want,” he purred, his teeth gently pinching your shoulder.

You made a deep, chesty noise, sinfully considering that. “Don’t give me such broad permission, or you might regret it… papi.”

He groaned, and you felt his cock kicking against your cunt. Bunching up your skirt over your hips, you rocked your hips against him, panting just from feeling the strength of his arousal through his clothes. “Yes,” he hissed softly, holding you firmly against him as he worked his clothed erection against your panties, growing more excited with every mewl and shudder it drew from your lips. “That night was… moronic… but I remember the way I felt… how much I wanted you.” He turned his head and sucked a light bruise into your neck. “Do you still feel that way?”

You dipped your head to coax him back to your mouth, his pink lips wet with saliva as your tongue tasted them. “I wanted you to fuck me so bad,” you groaned, jerking your hips for emphasis on the word fuck. “But your fingers are very skilled… and your mouth...” You kissed him again, and felt his hand reach between your legs to slide your panties off.

His fingers paused halfway down the elastic. “Is this moving too fast?” he panted, suddenly trying to be reasonable. The kind of thing you would worry about if you were building a long-term relationship.

“Shh,” you hushed him gently. “I don’t want to think about too fast or too slow, or how different our lives are, or what’s going to happen after tonight. We’re just two strangers having fun. Can’t it just be that?”

He kissed you so softly, then. So tenderly that he could only have been subliminally trying to convince you of something more. His heart drummed with possessive affection; he already knew he wanted more than just tonight. At least the primitive, reckless part of him that didn’t overthink and over-plan every decision did. The rational part of him and the part that would say anything to please you came to an accord as he nodded, lips moving against your skin, “It can be.”

You grabbed his wrist and helped him slip your underwear the rest of the way off, stepping out of them and kicking them aside. His fingers didn’t immediately plunge themselves into your drenched folds, and his hips didn’t immediately return to grind against your wetness. His intelligent, cocky green eyes gave you a probing stare.

“Y qué quieres hacer esta noche?” he purred, low and seductive, giving you a choice.

“Oh, papi, me encanta cuándo hablas español. I want you to do anything you want to me. Anything,” you moaned, fairly certain that, with one or two exceptions, you really meant it. This man turned you on in ways you’d never experienced. There was nothing you wouldn’t try if he wanted it, and you knew he’d stop the second you asked, which made you feel bolder.

He chuckled. “Don’t give me such broad permission, dulce naturalista.”

The promise of mischief in his voice made you shiver, your cunt dripping. “Anything, papi. I just… want to know that you want me.”

He hummed. “This dress, this flimsy thing,” he hooked his index fingers through the narrow shoulder straps and tugged. “Did you know I’ve been staring at it all day, thinking about doing this?” He pulled the front down, just by a few inches, and freed your nipples. He dipped his head, and you gasped as he took one in his mouth.

“Oh god, it feels so good,” you whined as he began to suck, rolling the other between his thumb and forefinger. It was like he had a direct connection to your clit. He wasn’t even touching you there, but a hot pressure began to build between your legs as he devoured your sensitive nipples.

Then he suddenly released, your hard peak popping out of his mouth with a wet sound, and you whined for him not to stop. “Tu no dominas el español, verdad?” he asked.

“Qué?” you blurted, confused, but answering his question by not understanding it.

“I didn’t think so,” he said, a devilish look in his eyes. “You need practice, so I’ve decided I’ll only give you what you want if you say it in Spanish.”

“Pero… Qué pasa si… yo no sé… how to say it in Spanish?” You did want to learn more dirty talk, but this game didn’t seem fair. You wanted him to keep sucking your tits.

“You said I could do anything I wanted...” he reminded you, bringing his hand back to one of your breasts and kneading it tormentingly slowly. “Si no lo sabes, intenta. Practica, practica, practica.”

You wondered if this was some sort of dominance thing, or if he just liked watching you struggle with his native language. It was a bit exciting, though, you had to admit. Your pulse was racing with a mixture of arousal and embarrassment, because you genuinely had no idea how to say what you wanted. “Mis… pechos? Tu lengua. Por favor.” you pointed from his mouth to your breasts.

“Por favor, chupa mis pezones,” he corrected. “Repite.” You repeated it, and before you’d finished the last syllable, he replied, “Con gusto,” and began stimulating your nipples to the point of torture with his nimble lawyer’s tongue.

“Oh god,” you whimpered, your voice high and pleading, “It feels so good.” You bucked your hips into his and curled your fingers around the back of his head trying to force him to keep going, but he pulled back.

“En español,” he chided.

“En serio?!” you complained, but he simply watched you with his eyebrows quirked, waiting. “Me siento bien?” you tried. He smiled approvingly and lowered his sultry mouth to your skin again, flicking your hardened peak while pinching it between his lips. This time he pushed his hips back against yours so you could feel the heat of his erection on your pussy, and it sent new waves of electricity coursing through your body, which was already heaving just with the attention to your breasts. “Por favor, más... Oh god, yes,” you whimpered.

“Qué sabor muy rica, tu piel,” he murmured, muffled in your skin. “You taste delicious.” The vibrations from his speech tore a choked whimper from your lips, and you bucked your hips against his cock.

You bit down on your lower lip, fighting your rising climax even as you lifted one leg, wrapping it over his hip, to hasten it. “I’m gonna—oh god, you’re going to make me come just from this!”

“Voy a venir,” he coached you in a firm, teacher-like voice that nearly made you double over with arousal. “O puedes decir, ‘Me vas a poner a venir.’”

“M-me pon… ah!” he lightly nipped at your sensitive peak, turning the rest of what you were trying to say into helpless babble. “Please, please fuck me… oh god.” Before he could correct you, you remembered what he’d taught you in the bar right before begging you to leave with him so he could fuck your brains out. “Dámelo duro, papi.”

His whole body shuddered as he took in a shaking breath, but sober Barba never lost control until he decided to surrender it. As much as he wanted to fuck you, he was having too much fun teasing you. “You could also say, ‘Quiero que me coges,’” he explained academically, and you growled with frustration, writhing under him, your cunt seeking purchase against his cock. “If you’re going to speak a language, you’ve got to practice it,” he said, his voice far too calm and even for the circumstance, even with its wicked undertone.

“Dámelo! Por favor! Dáme tu pinga!” you begged frantically, rapid-firing off every way to ask for his cock that you could think of. You reached between your bodies and grasped his engorged sex through his tightened pants and stroked him hard from balls to tip. Your efforts were rewarded with an involuntary whine, Barba’s hips jerking forward.

“Me rindo,” he whimpered in surrender. His breath was ragged and he looked ready to fall apart. You purred with victory, but as you slowed the furious pace of your stroking, he recovered enough of his senses to smirk through his lust. “Pero primero, quiero saborearte.” His voice was thick, and his eyes dark as a tropical storm on a Caribbean island. He lifted the leg you’d wrapped around him up onto the table, and knelt beneath you. “Con tu permiso?”

You nodded, gasping sharply even before his tongue made contact with your soaked pussy just from the obscene expression on his face as he opened his mouth and extended the point of his tongue as he slowly leaned toward you. Your hands braced behind you on the table for support. Then you cried out loud when that tongue did hit you, slightly cold from the air, but quickly warming to match you as his mouth closed over your whole cunt. “Ah, que rica,” he sighed into your pussy, lapping at your slippery arousal with broad, languid strokes of his tongue, unhurried, as if he were aiming for no particular goal but to enjoy your flavor. “So wet for papi. Qué buena estudiante eres. Good students should be rewarded.”

He finally stood back up to his full height in front of you and removed his pants and underwear, letting them fall around his ankles, and his cock sprang free. You gaped down at it in awe. “Oh god, look at that cock,” you practically drooled. You automatically reached down and started stroking it, babbling on about what a thick, beautiful cock it was. He was too lost in the touch of your fingers wrapped around his shaft to even complain that it wasn’t Spanish.

“Ah, condoms!” he interjected before pushing himself inside you like every muscle in his body was screaming to do. “I’ve got some in the bedroom.”

You chewed your lip, not sure if this would come off the wrong way since he wanted to be responsible, but you slowly said, “We don’t need to use one if you don’t want. I’m on the pill, and I don’t have any STDs.”

His stormy eyes pierced into you, clearly tempted, but he couldn’t help remarking cynically, “If you give me a disease, I swear...”

“I’m afraid I don’t have my medical records on me, so I understand if you don’t want to take my word for it. I don’t know why I’m blindly trusting you.” That was a lie. Everything about Rafael Barba screamed precision, caution, and consent, and even after such a short time knowing him, you were absolutely certain he would never put you at risk. In fact, there was no way he’d ever have unprotected sex with a stranger.

Except his very next words were, “Fuck it,” and he hooked his arm under your elevated leg, and began rubbing his thick cock through your folds, coating it with your slick arousal. “You are absolutely sure you want this?” he looked at you with soft, understanding eyes, checking for any doubts.

You let out a needy whine, rolling your hips to rub your pussy against the tip of his fat cock. “Te quiero,” you whimpered, intending to say you wanted it, but his cheeks reddened and his heart flipped as you said something better translated as I love you.

You wouldn’t realize your mistake until much later, thinking back on it, or understand why his face was suddenly frozen between tenderness and panic, and then dawning realization, relief, and a small, barely noticeable wince of disappointment.

He entered you slowly, letting you feel every inch of stretch from his cock. Like the rest of his build, it was not the longest you had ever seen, but it was impressively girthy, and each blissful inch he worked you open brought the slightest fraying edge of pain. He knew his size could be a challenge, and was practiced at preparing, and patience. You were already so dripping wet, you didn’t need extra lube, though he had it on standby, and watched you carefully, pausing to let you rest every time he advanced. As he waited, feeling your walls relax to accept him, he ducked his head to your breasts, savoring the helpless squeals you made when he gave attention to what he learned was one of your most sensitive erogenous zones. Every time he flicked his tongue over your nipple or sucked its hardened peak into his mouth, your cunt twitched around him and your back arched to take more of him. It worked so well, he never stopped teasing your breasts, and your silent cries of, “Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god!” grew in intensity until you were screaming with pleasure, fist clenched in his hair as you held him to your chest, and his balls were pressed tight against your ass.

Panting hard and moaning into your breasts, he began to thrust, slowly at first, but you wrapped your legs around his back and used them as leverage to buck your hips into him, pushing back into each of his thrusts, deepening them and coaxing him to increase his pace. As you angled your hips, he began hitting a deep point inside that made your legs turn to jelly. “Dámelo bien duro,” you tried to say, but it mostly came out as unintelligible gasps and whimpers. His mouth never left your tits and you loved the angle it gave you, being able to watch his face, strained with concentration and clouded with lust, and his tongue working diligently to bring you to a climax that took you off guard with how suddenly it crashed over you. You couldn’t say there was no buildup to it, because you had been in throes since he first pulled down your dress, but he had barely begun to thrust when the heat coiling in your lower back suddenly tightened and snapped, shooting sparks behind your eyelids. “Ah—Rafa!” you wailed, squeezing your fingers in his hair.

He gasped, releasing the globe of your breast from his mouth at the wracking of your body in his arms. Your pussy convulsed, clenching tightly around his cock, coating it in your sweet release, almost too tight for him to thrust through. One more jerk of his hips through your rippling, fluttering muscles and he let out a string of swears, and you felt his abdominal muscles tense up against your belly. He pulled back and thrust into you once more, balls swinging against your ass, and his hot seed flooded you. He panted, trembling, still trying to hold onto you, though halfway sitting on a dining table without knocking off any of the plates was not the most ideal location for post-coital recovery cuddling. He grabbed a few paper napkins from behind you to catch the drippings as he pulled out.

It was over too fast, a testament to how long it had been for him. Both of you, really. But you weren’t disappointed. He made you come almost entirely with that silver tongue of his, and you were still shaking too much to take your weight off the table and put it on your legs.

The timer on the oven rang shrilly, announcing dinner was done.

“After dinner,” he promised, pulling his pants back on. “Quiero más de tu cuerpo.”

You were satisfied, but not yet sated, and looked forward to round two.

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

@beccabarba​ / @caked-crusader / @itsjustmyfantasyroom / @thatesqcrush​ / @dianilaws / @permanentlydizzy​ / @mrsrafaelbarba​ / @da-po / @madamsnape921 / @charlottegrice / @onerestein

The Miys, Ch. 100

Whaaaaat....?  I never get over seeing that chapter number.

This is the chapter that will wrap up the Cult Panic story arc. I honestly didn’t intend for it to go this long, but after rushing the Plague arc, I was determined to focus more on making sure I liked how this one went than finishing in a certain timeframe.

After this chapter, our crew will go back to more ‘Humans are Weird’ content, with the fluff and comedy I think we need in current times (especially if you’re American).

Once again, thank you to @zommbiebro for letting me play with Jokul, and @baelpenrose for beta reading and helping me particularly with this story arc.

After our conversation with Jokul, he agreed rather quickly to meet with the Council.  I could even say - truthfully - that no threats were necessary.  Instead, Antoine and I had explained the level of concern Jokul and his group had eventually caused, the former cult-leader had offered to make amends and set the record straight.  The only point I had to convince him of was that the session needed to be recorded and distributed across the ship.  In the end, he conceded only for the reason that such a broadcast was the only way to regain any trust among the population of the Ark.

Two days after our meeting in my office, the Council was gathered in the same room where Arantxa’s trial had taken place. As this wasn’t a trial, instead of each Councillor having an administrator present, the six of us were joined by Jokul,  with Tyche, Antoine, Parvati, Simon, and Arthur as witnesses to attest to Jokul’s statements.

Pranav Ranganathan, as the most neutral member of the Council, opened the meeting. “Jokul Bjornson, you are here of your own volition to account for your recent actions.  To be clear, you are not on trial, there are no charges against you.  You have voluntarily submitted yourself to be questioned by us and to offer to make amends for the interruptions you and your group of followers have caused among the social structure of this ship. Do I understand that correctly?”

To his credit, Jokul was entirely unflinching. “Yes, Councillor Ranganathan. When I arrived on the Ark, I realized that humanity had endured Ragnarok, and our journey to Von was our way of emerging into the renewed world.  I never intended to start a cult, and did not realize that is what happened until very recently.”

It took everything in me to keep from cracking up laughing, just to avoid ruining the recording. The reality was, Jokul had nearly fainted when we explained to him that his group of ‘followers’ had a religious-level worship of him.  He was actually queasy at the concept, it turned out - sure he wanted followers, but he abhorred cultish behavior, ironically.

Without batting an eyelash, he continued. “I will readily admit, I am not the most socially savvy person.  The people I considered to be my friends rephrased every piece of information I received, either by providing it to me directly or by being of one mind in their conviction regarding the underlying meaning of what I learned independently.  In the end, I believed that Councillor Reid had nefarious designs towards not only myself but the entirety of people on this vessel.”

Pranav nodded. “And how did you come to realize that you were acting in bad faith?”

“Let’s simply say I had some sense knocked into me,” he managed to joke.  My chest hurt from restraining my laughter, and I was envious of the snorts Tyche and Arthur indulged in.

That, combined with the presence of witnesses who were not likely to lie for him, seemed to mollify the Council enough regarding his intentions.  Pranav took his seat, opening the floor to questions.

With an entire half-second of hesitation, Xiomara surged to her feet. “I’m sure it will come to the surprise of no one that I’m going to cut to the chase: How can we be assured that you and your allegedly-former followers pose no danger to the society we are trying to establish?  We have no jail to hold you in, our economy is currently calorie-based but we do not agree to any manual labor as punishment. How do we hold you accountable?”

He gestured to where I was sitting. “Councillor Reid is recording the entirety of these proceedings, with the goal of distributing them to the ship.  None of this will be kept in the dark, and everything I say and admit to here will be public knowledge. The entire Ark will be able to hold me accountable to my actions and promises.”

“And what are those promises?” Xio asked, refusing to give an inch of slack.

“One of the demands I made to Councillor Reid was that, should I win the challenge, she would be required to step down from the Council and would never be able to hold a position of leadership at any point in the future.  I feel it is only fair that I make the same commitment.”

My jaw dropped at this. This was a surprise, even to me, and so much so that the iron grip I was keeping on my composure snapped. The rest of the Council was in an uproar, demanding clarification.  Xiomara held a hand up, drawing attention to the fact that she still held the floor. “Please explain what you mean by ‘the challenge’, Mr. Bjornson.”

Jokul paled as he seemed to realize he slipped up. “Sophia Reid came to a gathering of my - well, followers, I supposed - attempting to parlay, so to speak. I refused to listen and made demands of her, insisting she step down from the Council. When I refused to take the path of peace, Arthur Farro agreed to negotiate on my terms, so to speak. He won, so Councillor Reid was able to have her parlay.” He waved to the room in general. “And here we are.”

That is NOT what happened, I thought to myself.  I was fairly certain I was scowling with the effort of not gaping at his explanation. He wasn’t exactly lying, but I had never seen someone throw themselves under the bus like that, much less execute an Olympic-qualifying swan dive beneath one.  Still, Pranav and Eino were looking at Arthur with suspicion, while Huynh smirked his approval at the underlying story Jokul hinted at.

Xiomara arched an eyebrow but said nothing, despite the fact that I knew she had the true story. “So, no holding positions of leadership in the future. And with this recording, you can be held accountable by the ship. Neatly done. That accounts for you. What about your followers?”

He nodded in acknowledgement. “They can only be held accountable if they are known.”

Silence roared through the chamber as my fellow Councillors weighed what he just said. “Jokul Bjornson,” Xiomara ventured carefully. “Please elaborate on what you mean by that?”

Rather than an explanation, the words that fell from Jokul’s mouth were names. One hundred and seventy three names, carefully enunciated and separated only by a brief pause. At no point did his eyes drop from Xiomara’s.  Hers only glanced away once she realized what was happening, and only long enough to confirm that I was recording this for them to refer to later.

After six minutes of names, Jokul finally finished. “Parvati Fletcher. She was only present at that last gathering, but the ideas she spread and comments she made give me reason to believe that she could be a potential traitor in the future.”

Xiomara blinked slowly, processing this information, before coughing violently. Tyche shook with silent laughter, and I was getting a headache from holding my breath to prevent laughing.  Arthur didn’t even try and rolled his eyes dramatically before dropping his head to his hands.

“I would strongly suggest keeping a very close eye on her in the future,” Jokul intoned, entirely serious.

The entire Council looked at a loss for words, unable to even start to explain the issue. 

Arthur, apparently, had no such internal battle, it seemed. “Yeah. Tell you what, we’ll leave that to Xiomara, I think.” How he kept a straight face eluded me. I made a mental note to ask Miys if there were superpowers involved.

“I am quite serious. I believe the entire ship should be monitoring her,” Jokul insisted. “Why would you limit responsibility of this to only one Councillor? I understand she is over Health and Safety, but even she cannot be everywhere at once.”

Delicately, Grey spoke up while keeping one eye on Xiomara. “Parvati Fletcher was part of the group who infiltrated your organization.  I recall she acted as a distraction to provide additional surveillance.”

“But her anti-establishment tendencies - “

“Joke-skull,” Arthur interrupted drily. “They’re lesbians.”

I could hear Jokul’s jaw snap shut from across the room as he turned an amazing shade of red. “Jokul,” he muttered in correction.

Unable to speak up through her laughter, Xiomara sat down, waving at Grey to proceed while shaking with laughter at the odd turn of events.

Entirely nonplussed, Grey stood. “You said that you never set out to create a cult. I ask that you provide insight as to how we can prevent such events from recurring.”  Jokul was clearly caught off guard by the question. His face scrunched in concentration, head tilted.

After two minutes of silence, I surrendered. “Have any of you heard of a post-turtle?” I asked, earning a giggle from Tyche, who was still propping her head up from the shenanigans around Xiomara and Parvati.

Jokul and Parvati were both clearly fighting smiles, but the rest of the room looked confused.  With a sigh, I forged on. “It’s literally a turtle on top of a fence post. You don’t know how he got there by himself. He doesn’t either. But both of you know: he doesn’t belong there, he didn’t get there by himself, and he needs help getting down.” Granted, my explanation was met by a combination of groans and dawning comprehension, but it was accurate enough that everyone clearly got the point.

With a nod of acknowledgement in my direction, Jokul finally spoke. “I ended up where I was because of isolation and a very narrow group of opinions.  I insulated myself in the familiar, and that led to all of my information and discussion coming from sources with an agenda.  To prevent that, I would suggest continuing to encourage that people meet and become familiar with people they normally may not.  Cultural sharing.”

I shook my head as I heard the man who tried to kill me for my actions actually encourage those actions to continue.

And then, he took it further. “Not only with entertainment, which is optional, although they are essential I realize. Take cultural sharing into account when allocating work assignments, which are not optional.”

The last person I expected to speak up defied my last tenuous hold on reality. “I would add class assignments, as well,” Arthur insisted. When I turned, eyes so wide I thought they would fall out, to stare at him, he shrugged. “What!?  You know as well as I do that we learn through the lens of our culture. Mix up culture, you get questions you would never get normally.  Is this dish from this planet halal? I don’t know! You don’t know! But I would love to find out.”

Damnit. He had me there.

“What about further surveillance to prevent clandestine meetings?” Grey asked, dragging us back on topic. 

Jokul firmly shook his head against the notion. “There is plenty of surveillance, and you cannot increase it without creating a police-state. Ordinarily - I guess ordinarily for humans? - travel is the enemy of narrow thinking. We are already travelling at light speed to another planet, but we also cannot go anywhere but this ship. The next best thing is spending a prodigious amount of time around people who are as different from you as possible, I would think. At a certain point, no matter how hard you try, that person becomes a person, and they start to matter to you. You start to care. And you learn whether you want to or not.”

Oddly, that seemed to be the answer Grey was looking for. “I concede the floor to Eino Wiitala,” they intoned officially before taking their seat.

With a nod of recognition, Eino stood. “You just mentioned adjusting our class rosters to provide a more diverse group of students in each class, which I agree with. From an educational perspective, what other flaws are lending themselves to situations such as this?”

Without hesitation, Jokul responded. “The only compulsory course we currently have is the Galactic Core curriculum, and I do agree - now, at least - that it is essential to our new start. However, there is no course in existence that covers the late 20th century through contemporary times. That would be a solid start… Divisiveness ruined our world, did it not?” 

Nods echoed around the table, as he had a solid point.  I had to admit, he thought through this far more than I had anticipated.

Suddenly, the tables turned. “But you - “ he gestured at the entire Council, “do realize that most people on this ship don’t actually know any of you?”

Again, silence filled the room. I felt horrible as the accuracy of his question hit home, but Eino’s infinite calm only went so far as to nod in acknowledgement and encouragement for Jokul to continue.

“One of the underlying flaws that led to all of the recent events, I’ve realized, is that I saw Sophia Reid as a foe to be conquered. And I believed it when others told me she had designs for sovereignty. Had I known her? Were she more familiar to me as a person?” He scoffed, and for once I didn’t get offended. The fact that even Huynh had to stifle laughter at the idea that I was plotting to rule supreme may have helped. 

Jokul spread his hands, gesturing at how absurd everyone found the idea. “Everyone close to her finds the concept of her seeking power laughable, it seems. Anything approaching what I thought of her would not be possible for more than a few minutes of rational thought if people on this ship knew any of you, beyond being the people in power.”

Eino nodded and started making notes. “A series of workshops or seminars, perhaps? Open forums where one of us can be asked any question, get to know people better?”

Huynh grumbled. “Or you snots could just eat in the cafeterias once in a damned while.” Everyone turned to him, stunned. “What? I know I’m the only one who eats with everyone else on the Ark on a regular basis.  Somewhere that I’m not ‘Councilor’ anything, I’m the grumpy Vietnamese guy in the corner who ordered whatever someone was eating that looked good when I walked in.”

Fair… I thought guiltily. It had never occurred to me that my love of cooking meant I rarely ate with people outside my social circle, and I realized that I had been the same way Before.

Xiomara nodded thoughtfully. “Cooking classes.” 

Almost everyone looked confused.  The only exceptions were the smirk Tyche threw my direction and the look of horror I knew filled my face.

Sure enough, Xiomara turned to me. “Sophia loves to cook. What if she did some cooking classes for people on the Ark? And had other people - not the Council - come in and teach her how to make something, as well as the class?” 

While that sounded marginally more bearable, the idea of hosting a cooking class in general flooded me with anxiety.  I decided in that instant that, if I had to host education courses, so did the other Councillors.  Either they would back down, or everyone would be in the same position. I could handle either solution, honestly.

Eino conceded the floor absently, intent on his notes. Pranav was next. The first thing he asked about was the proximity alerts, which Jokul shamelessly admitted to being something they found out by mistake. After Miys confirmed that they would have to replace the implants with some rated for higher electrical current in the brain, we moved on. “It is known that a significant portion of your perception of Sophia Reid stemmed from the similarity between her primary traits and yours.  However, this information is not publicly accessible. How did you obtain this information, and who among your group was able to provide her file? Educator Farro’s as well, for that matter, seeing as you are on record as referring to him as Sophia’s, quote, pet warlord, end quote.”

I was dying to know the answer to this question. I had been waiting for this question. Derek and Zach had been working around the clock for close to a month to find out the answer to this question, to no avail.

However, the expression on Jokul’s face screamed that I was about to be disappointed.

In what could only be described as extreme confusion, Jokul actually removed his data band and passed it to Pranav. “I have nobody’s file but my own. I’ve never had anyone else’s file. You are welcome to perform whatever test you need in order to confirm the truth of that.”

Taking the data band with a nod, Pranav continued his line of questioning. “Assuming what you are alleging is true, how did you obtain information you should not be privy to?”

I should have been clued in by the sigh from Simon and the subsequent look Tyche fixed him with. I should have. But, in that moment, I thought nothing of it. Like an idiot.

Slowly, as though wanting to ensure we understood what he was saying, Jokul answered. “I was freely given this information, when I first woke up on the Ark.”

My stomach dropped when Tyche kicked Simon, who managed not to yelp but tried his best to scowl at her.

If anything, the majority of the Council looked more confused. Xiomara, however, groaned loudly. “When you woke up, who did your initial interview?”

“Interview?”

“Who was the first human you spoke to on the Ark?” she clarified pointedly.

With relief, Jokul’s expression relaxed. “Simon Rodriguez. When he explained why I was on this ship, he stated that there was another person with similar attributes who they were searching for. One Sophia Reid.” He gestured to me. “When we discussed my history in the After, he also mentioned that his previous conversation was, ironically, with another warlord.” Here, he pointed to Arthur. “This information was freely given. Certainly nothing obtained by devious means.”

Recording, hell. The sound of my palm hitting my forehead was echoed around the room and punctuated by a loud crack. When I peeked around my fingers, I saw a smug look on Parvati’s face and bright pink mark on Simon’s face.

After a couple more minutes, Pranav stood hesitantly, all formality gone. “That.  That satisfies my questions? I believe so. Giang?”

“No questions,” he barked. “I will keep that suggestion in mind for the engineering crews,” he added, pointing at Jokul. “He has a good point, and we should listen to that.”

I never, in my life, thought I would wholeheartedly agree with Giang Huynh, but I found myself nodding hard enough to risk injuring my neck. When he turned to me with a pointed look, I realized it was my turn. “No questions,” I held my hands up in surrender. “All of my questions have been addressed, quite publicly.” I couldn’t resist, in the end.

Arthur smirked in satisfaction and reached for the hilt of his sword but managed not to stroke it. Jokul scowled deeply, but at Arthur instead of me.  I could live with that.

It was astonishing what I had just learned I could live with, it turned out.

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Me Rewatching ML: Princess Fragrance

Chat puts hand on LB, LB not in the mood for touch. Since usually Marinette is very physically affectionate and is usually fine being in touch with Chat; I’m guessing he was a real big goof this fight and LB wasn’t in much of the mood for it. 

LB comforting the victim, Jean Duparc, a boy that attends Francoise Dupont. He was Magician of Misfortune, first akuma we hear that doesn’t get actual focus, suggesting that there are other akuma battles we haven’t seen. 

...Why did he want to make the Eiffel Tower disappear? I suppose it would’ve been the ultimate magic trick? Also, by this, Jean Duparc likes magic, and was likely akumatized because he didn’t have an appreciative crowd or he wound up messing up. 

I like that Marinette’s bangs hang down more when wet, it’s a small detail but it’s nice to include. 

Tikki is sick from being in the miraculous during the rain. It’s actually really curious since Plagg was exposed to the cold and he seems find, suggesting that between the two, Tikki is a lot more sensitive than Plagg... or maybe delicate would be the better word?

A kwami being sick is serious enough that Tikki is inclined to go Fu, even before Marinette is officially ready to know about the Guardian. 

Marinette doesn’t question there’s a kwami doctor. And it escapes her logic that if a doctor can treat kwamis, they probably know what a kwami is. 

And by looks of it, I say this happens with lunch at school ending, and Marinette is late to return to lunch. And by the events of PF with Chloe taking Tikki, it’s after school. This gives enough time for the events of PF and for Rose to spend time with Ali with no worry of returning to school. At least I’m guessing. 

Tikki is willing to wait till Marinette’s out of school to head to the doctor. I’m guessing this likely is happening not long after Jackady and her parents may still be on guard about Marinette skipping out and Tikki is inclined to avoid that issue. 

Ivan sleeps trhough physics. 

Prince Ali is hosting a toy fundraiser for a children’s hospital. 

PRINCE ALIIIIIIII. Why do you get so little attention my sweet son? There needs to be more Prince Ali, he is so adorable and sweet and precious I love him. 

Rose gets watery eyed when talking about her celebrity crush. 

Juleka looks amused with Rose’s reactions. 

Rose just really wants to let Ali know how much she admires him. 

Oooch. That looks like it hurt, and probably wasn’t good for Tikki. 

Mendeleiev isn’t amused by Marinette’s lateness. And either Marinette has lied about being locked in the bathroom or she has actually locked herself in the bathroom before... I wouldn’t be surprised. 

There are physics formula on Mendeleiev’s lab collar. 

Mendeleiev is one of those teachers that notices a lot, locking onto Rose not paying attention in her class and messing with perfume. 

Chloe doesn’t like the smell of Rose’s perfume, though that could be her just being mean since I think she has the exact same perfume in her locker (Lady Wifi).

Marinette takes the chance to sneak to her desk. Alya is amused by Marinette’s fib. 

Mendeleiev has a shirt covered in formulas. 

I wonder how many kids the principle winds up seeing, cause they seem to go to him for the smallest things. Speaking up, drawing in class, not paying attention; and it seems it’s Mendeleiev who usually sends kids. I can only think of once that Bustier sent someone to the principle’s office (Lady Wifi). 

Mendeleiev will be quizzing them on lab safety, she was inspired and wanted to do a refresher and see how many students do remember lab safety. Not too bad an idea. A bit of an oh shit quiz though. 

Adrien was gone long enough to miss the rest of school. Since Fu healing Tikki didn’t take that long, and Plagg seems much sturdier than Tikki when facing the elements, I think it’s more likely that Adrien was at a shoot. While it is possible Adrien might’ve met Fu, I do think that would’ve gotten focus. Plus, there is the factor that Adrien isn’t ready to meet Fu yet since he doesn’t take heroing as seriously as Marinette. And if Adrien has already met Fu, Plagg would’ve probably suggested to take the book to Fu, just stating that Fu could be trusted with it. But Plagg doesn’t bring up Fu to Adrien at all, so I think Adrien went to a shoot instead of taking care of a sick Plagg, which I think is much rarer for him since he was able to take being frozen and came out fine. 

Clever Alya doing her matchmaking. 

It doesn’t immediately click in Marinette’s mind that she could be the girl to give Adrien notes for the class(es) he missed. Another instance where Marinette is inclined to keep to her other responsibilities (getting Tikki to a doctor), Alya though wants to see her ship sail. It almost feels like a mom sending her kid out on a mission they’re reluctant to go on. 

Tikki is probably regretting agreeing to wait till after school. 

Oh hey Justin Extra.

And there she goes. 

There they both go, poor Tikki. 

Adrien moves in to catch Marinette. 

Tikki that’s a creepy face. 

This makes me really wonder the kwami texture, how they feel. Does Tikki feel smooth like a ladybug’s shell? Does Plagg have fur? Does Wayzz have scales? 

I wonder when Chloe gets Pollen, will she remember Tikki and note the similarities, and remember who wanted to get Tikki back? If there’s a reveal s2, what if the reveal is Chloe learning LB’s identity? 

“Prince Ali will forget all about those sick kids.” Godamnit Chloe you are awful. I really, really hope we see you have a hard redemption. I feel you need one. 

Chloe and Sabrina sass squad team-up. 

Poor Rose. It’s even sadder that she’s just left alone gathering up pieces of the torn letter. Marinette hurries after to get Tikki, and Sabrina just walks away smiling. 

Chloe is fully aware that Tikki belongs to Marinette and is enjoying the idea that Marinette won’t ever get her back. I do think she could maybe realize LB’s identity if Pollen does make her think of Tikki. 

 ROOOOOOOOSE. Her being sad feels like seeing someone kick a puppy. I don’t like it. 

I do like that she’s an akuma who likes to sing. And she makes others sing. It’s a cute touch that feels very Rose. 

“Chloe doesn’t have any friends.” The doorman doesn’t count Sabrina as Chloe’s friend, despite them hanging out here a lot. Not too surprised, I wouldn’t count them friends either. 

Convenient trash is convenient. 

Doorman falls for Marinette’s disguise. 

“It’s usually sushi.” Sushi confirmed to be Chloe’s favorite dish (she also thinks that’s what Wang Cheng should’ve made in Kung Food). 

Chloe refers to pizza as peasant food. 

Angry Marinette mutters. 

Fragrance refers to herself as an actual princess, and does take time to request to be let in. 

PRINCE ALIIIIIIII. My son you’re beautiful. And would really rather be somewhere else. 

Ali is excited for fireworks, suggesting that he doesn’t get to see them often. 

Ali is still learning French. 

The mayor is sad that Ali has a busy schedule and may not have a chance to see the fireworks. 

The mayor refers to Chloe has his princess. 

Chloe offers her hand for Ali to kiss, something saved for a woman that is above you, and Ali raises a high brow at this gesture. Even his aide looks a little surprised. 

Ali counters it with hearty handshake. Can this be how he continues to greet new people? Hearty handshakes? 

Chloe eye twitch. Lmao, this isn’t going how she expected. Ali isn’t charmed at all. 

Chloe takes a selfie with Ali, something she does with those she deems friends or she likes. This makes me think back to a post that shows selfies between best friends, how Marinette, Alya, Nino, and Adrien all look at the screen together smiling, while Chloe and Sabrina selfie, only Chloe is looking to the screen and not Sabrina, which could symbolize future issues between her and Sabrina (there are issues there). Considering this and how they both stare at the camera, I wonder if it’s a foreshadow of a possible friendship that could form between Chloe and Ali, especially if Chloe winds up loosing Sabrina, and Ali I do feel will come back and probably join their class. 

Chloe is horrified to be stinky. 

Rose likes having a bit of a flashy entrance. 

Ali is baffled and curious to see his first akuma, Chloe presses close to her father who wraps his arms around her. 

Plagg likes to hang in the trash bin. 

To Plagg, eating Camembert is more important than akuma trouble. 

Lmao, even in danger everyone still backs away from Chloe. 

Yeeeees, Marinette untransformed facing an akuma. There is no hesitance in her actions, Antibug has backed for Marinette that she is capable in and out of the suit and we see her acting out on that this episode. 

The mayor mistakes Marinette for another akuma. 

“But he is your father!” 

“Who cares!” Damn Chloe. 

The butler doesn’t react at all to pink smoke coming in. He is so chill. 

Ali’s aide is holding his hand as Fragrane approaches. 

Going down a staff is far more dangerous than an akuma, apparently. 

Ali and Adrien are going to be ultimate bros, I can feel it. 

Ali notices Tikki’s sneeze and is like wtf. Tikki’s oh shit face is beautiful I love it. Ali is very suspicious, eyeballing Tikki. 

Ali’s aide has a priority of keeping to Ali’s schedule as much as possible. Chat thinks that’s crazy. 

Tikki purposely dropped out of Ali’s pocket to avoid the smoke. 

SCOOTER! SCOOT SCOOT.

Fragrance caused a huge accident. Where did all those people go? 

Tikki deems LB is more important than her health and LB should go and stop Fragrance. I am curious on what could happen if Marinette did, if Lucky Charm and ML would even still work, or would she have a more limited time? 

Tikki shivers. It’s so sad to see. 

A gong is involved in healing kwamis, and the phonograph that contains the miraculouses is also playing. 

Fu likes to proverb. Marinette is confused by proverb. I want Fu to be like Iroh please! That’d be amazing. 

Either the dormant state of the turtle miraculous is a pale turquoise and activated it takes on a more green appearance (possibly), or maybe being a Guardian makes the turtle miraculous unique? Or maybe they don’t have a dormant state down for the turtle miraculous? We do see that the earrings, ring, and brooch have a dormant state, so technically the turtle should too. Either being a Guardian makes it unique,  this is the turtle’s dormant state, or it’s just not done yet. 

Fu requests Marinette to be quiet, but is the one making small talk. He’s enjoying Marinette trying to keep kwamis a secret from him. 

Fu has a balcony garden. Red flowers I’m suspecting to be roses. 

Tikki’s tail wags when she sees Marinette. 

Miraculouses likely originate in China. 

CUDDLES. Another really cute scene between Marinette and Tikki. 

Fragrance calls Chat servant. 

In Fragrance’s minions, Ali is the only one who isn’t a servant. The rest respond to being servants. 

LB knows how to use Chat’s staff. 

Cataclysm answers to Chat’s want, and for this, instead of destroying the ship, he caused the system to malfunction and set off the fireworks. This suggest he didn’t rush in with the intent to destroy LB, I thinkt he intent was to cause her transformation to malfunction and force it to drop. 

Chat, under the spell, was licking himself clean. 

Ali is surprised and curious about Rose, definitely starry eyed to see LB. Actually doesn’t know LB, asking who she is. This suggest that LB and Chat aren’t globally known yet. 

LB is aware that Rose is Ali’s fan. I wonder if Rose also talked about Ali to Marinette, though it is something Marinette can easily piece together. 

Ali is touched that Rose likes him for how kind he is.

Ali is able to kindly refuse Chloe and is up to go to the children’s hospital with Rose instead. 

Rose actually wishes Chloe goodbye. This girl is too pure. 

Chloe rages and Ali and Rose are able to enjoy the fireworks together, Ali more excited than Rose by looks of body posture.

Stay clear of The Complying with Blunders To Your Dress For Excellence.

Don't forgeting and lamenting money mistakes-instead of forgiving and forgetting-can in fact harm your initiatives toward monetary improvement. Although we have all heard the scary tales from folks acquiring capitalized on by technicians that have created ideas for fixings or even companies that were actually certainly not needed, you do not would like to jeopardize the odds that your mechanic is being actually honest along with you, just because you are being or even affordable. One of my favorite authors, F. W. Boreham, created this observation: Leave your residence early in the early morning and also the 1st person you get to know have them aside and also create their bio. For the reasons of this particular article as well as to keep within the world from my adventure, I'm certainly not going to deal with service mistakes that threaten lifestyles, even when a 10,000 tag misprint can easily feel that intense. He wound up swiping $35,000 dollars from me. 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For technical computations, a party may have the capacity to reserve the deal on these reasons supplied that the other celebration does not aim to capitalize on the error, or even 'snatch up' the provide (entailing a deal that people did certainly not mean to make, betrayed through an inaccuracy in math and so on). This will be viewed by an unprejudiced criterion, or if an affordable person would have the ability to know that the error would not make sense to one of the events. Absolutely accept the notion that your youngsters are actually performing their absolute best, and also they'll learn much faster regarding their blunders if they are in a setting that accepts errors. Sight what occurred as an encounter that will certainly strengthen your routines and behaviors, therefore you will not create the very same mistake once more. Acknowledging blunders suggests toughness: Agreeing to check out, head out on the brink, as well as fail, particularly facing others, suggests someone who relies on herself as well as her capacity to be successful. Like I stated above, my greatest error after passing was tingling as well as acquiring a cars and truck too early. Do not make the blunder from waiting on somebody or something to follow along and make you pleased. Simply puts, the oversights that occur in suggested profiles and also items accounts are actually the events that have an effect on the internet revenue. Very most essentially, he learned from the oversight as well as started to take a much more disciplined approach to cash flow. OVERSIGHT 5: Poor interior connecting- Hyperlinks are actually the links in between web sites and are actually crucial in improving the internet website traffic. Don't forget, no matter the amount of oversights you create or just how sluggish you progress, you are actually still way in advance of everyone who isn't really attempting. The No 2 error that many Foreign exchange investors produce is to begin increasing up on a dropping business and, once more, they create this oversight for exactly the same factor. There are actually others who refuse to accept the mistakes that they perform and criticize them on others. The key is to maintain removaling as well as pass over each individual real estate putting in error that you create, especially early! Nonetheless, a lot of home owners create a series of errors when it pertains to mounting this kind as well as purchasing from home windows and also a number of these errors are additionally below. This will definitely alert the medical center or even surgical treatment to the action in question and they will manage to ensure that the same oversights to not take place once more. They tried it, discovered just what will create that better the next opportunity, brought in the renovations as well as maintained practicing. If you are actually off a technological history or certainly not, syntactic mistakes offer a really negative impression and this does certainly not matter. The third typical car fixing error automobile proprietors create is certainly not being actually readily available for dialogue along with the auto mechanics regarding the repair service process. Poor choices or even flawed processes may sometimes lead to errors, however that does not mean that every negative end result is an error. When you have any questions with regards to exactly where as well as the best way to employ yellow pages online australia (momentoperfettopermangiare.info), you can e-mail us at our own web-site. As opposed to wallowing on the error you've made, concentrate on just what you can possibly do to deal with the concern. This is actually all important and need to be properly considered when creating an instruction plan specifically created you, and as your body and also bodily health condition modifications so ought to your system. The most ideal way to stay away from sensation like you created the wrong choice or missed out on a great opportunity is to create sure you are actually entering into the method along with a strict grasp about what this indicates to end up being a home owner. One of one of the most common car repair shop errors car managers make is failing to give sufficient details about the concern. Right now you know what they were carrying out to your web site if you have been actually devoting any of the above stated blunders and were actually naive regarding their influence. The third blunder is that as quickly as the company experiences a tough time, they cut their marketing spending plan and draw inside their shell like a turtle. And if you do have somebody in your life which is attempting to keep you coming from forgetting and removaling on, recognize that this is their very own world they are actually creating and also they may take pleasure in holding those feelings as well as ideas of past errors over you. An error through only one event to a deal regarding the hidden simple facts from the contract, not usually a manner for staying clear of the arrangement. By the legislation from tourist attraction, we will certainly make the same error over and over once more, till the outcomes harmed so much that our team perform gain from this! However now, you do not intend to overdo it admitting you have actually produced oversights ... this is along the very same lines as begging and pleading, as well as surely won't cause him to transform his mind concerning the break up. What others considered his errors and also failures, he considered to be measures to excellence. Some of the absolute most popular credit scores error is actually co-signing on a car loan for friends and family participants that do not spend there bills. They said to the headlines site that the exact operation for dealing with such a mistake was unfamiliar because such inaccuracies had actually never been actually created in the Oscars' 88-year background. Do not defeat yourself up. Go back to the very first step where you assess the mistake. While some artists could mention that it had them a lifetime to accomplish their pursuit from being a master within this area, a regular Joe might actually locate it simpler discovering how to play piano with the help of the devices provided today and also along with the existing modern technology. Instead of wasting your opportunity dealing with that made the oversight or even which is actually very most accountable, check out the condition as a whole as well as see exactly how you can modify this for the better. The right strategy from correction is carried out by passing the publication entrance in such a way whereby the correction is actually created by offering result to the uploaded access that must have been passed. But when you carry out, take the time to go through the analysis process so you can easily learn from this and after that let that go, knowing that you may certainly not transform the outcome or the collection from scenarios through which the oversight was actually developed. Sadly, a lot of females trying to receive their ex-boyfriend back make a variety of errors that wind up ruining their possibilities. In this post, I am going to take a look at the improvement songs technology has actually made as well as how it creates popular music making a lot easier. If you could poke fun at yourself as well as your broken initiatives, you will certainly manage to keep in the positive energy required to attempt once again or take the following step.Mistakes are actually usually not devastating. I am which I am today due to the amazing trainings I gained from behaviors I when phoned blunders." I no more find all of them as damaging, half-witted or poor. . Then there are actually the private mistakes that some people carry about for a life-time; their unclean little keys. Yet our team performed not obtain exactly what we wished, and also severe oversights were actually made in trying to do so. Our experts are going to acquire to the bottom of this, and I will definitely take whatever action is actually asked for An entrepreneur will actually need to function harder as a result of the lack from a corporate identification.