#At some point I decided 'screw subtlety'

[xavier-elrose]

Look, bottom line, you've just gotta muddle through.

Did I understand things in school? Hell no.

I mean, I understood some things. I was, not to brag, easily averaging at least an A- on remembering to put my name on tests. A lot of the other stuff didn't quite make sense so much as I remembered it, though.

And obviously I never remembered it for long, but...long enough. You get good at studying, after a while. If you just muddle through, you'll eventually figure something out, if you get the chance.

That's about how life went for me. Wake up, go to work, be confused about basically everything, try the things that usually work, and if they turn out not to work...hey, my shifts up, now it's someone else's problem.

It's not a great approach for romance, I'll admit.

But things worked, is the key. Was I good at things? No. Was I competent? No. But was I productive?

...I mean, if you squinted your eyes, you could kind of argue I was. From a certain point of view. It's not like I ever burned the building down or anything. Though they did forbid me from taking matches to work after That One Incident.

I still maintain my insistence on my complete and total innocence, if only because I still don't actually know what happened. Pretty sure that means it's not my fault.

Anyway, today was pretty much like any other day. I mean, I skipped breakfast. Didn't really feel like food would fill the void inside me, you know? Coffee didn't really take, either. Went right through me. I actually had a bit of an accident as I tried to get to the bathroom. Pissing brown.

I should probably see a doctor about that. Throw it on top of the 'should probably see a doctor about that' pile.

Kind of a big pile. I'll go one of these days.

I also kept dropping my phone? I had to really concentrate to hold onto the thing. I don't even know how I dropped it some of those times, it was right in my lap. Freaked out people on the bus, though. You'd think they'd never seen someone drop a phone before. They were giving me a lot of space, all things considered.

Work was honestly pretty normal. I felt a lot more chipper than I normally did, actually. Maybe I'm finally getting used to this place. I always used to feel dead inside, like I was slaving away for nothing, but now work just felt...normal.

Skipped lunch, though. Still not hungry. Maybe I'm sick? Is there some disease that gives you brown piss and butterfingers?

I'll bet there is.

Home was about the same as always. Goofed off on the computer, doomscrolled...really didn't feel any different at all. Maybe I just need to spend more time online, take care of this illness.

Or maybe I should just see a doctor. Maybe. Kind of expensive, though.

Sleep, now, sleep felt amazing. I swear I slept like the dead. I was out like a light, and it felt so good. Like I was finally in my element, or something.

I still had to get up in the morning, though. I had another big day ahead of me, after all.

You died the way you lived: having no clue what’s going on. You are so clueless that you didn’t even notice that you died and just got up and went to work like normal the next day.

[aipilosse]

This is probably a stupid question, but you said you're open to ones about Sauron: do you know what he was doing after Morgoth was defeated the first time? It doesn't make sense that he would be in Valinor, but I see people say that he was. Am I missing something? Thank you

Anon, this is not a stupid question at all and I've also puzzled over where the idea that Sauron was in Valinor after the otherthrow of Utumno came from. From reading the Silm, it really sounds like Sauron defected to Morgoth at a very early point, well before the elves woke up, and did not leave him after Morgoth's defeat.

I guess at a high level, here's the timeline of events:

World is created. Valar arrive.

Melkor decides he want to be king of the world, screw Manwë and Eru.

Tulkas arrives and chases Melkor out. Melkor begins to sulk away from the Valar.

The Valar make the two lamps. Everything is beautiful and nothing hurts.

THEN we get this first information about Sauron (from the Annals of Aman in Morgoth's Ring):

Now Melkor knew of all that was done; for even then he had secret friends and spies among the Maiar whom he had converted to his cause, and of these the chief, as after became known, was Sauron, a great craftsman of the household of Aulë.

So, yeah, Sauron became a follower of Morgoth at a very early point, before the making of the lamps. He also had to have been not aligned with Morgoth exclusively at some point in order to become known as a great craftsman of the household of Aulë.

So when does he leave? I don't know, but I think it's before the elves leave Cuiviénen.

I think it's actually an important plot point that Sauron is out in the world working as an agent of Morgoth after Utumno is overthrown, and crucially Utumno is overthrown because the elves have woken up and the Valar want to defend them but have not yet contacted them. One of the highlights for me in Nature of Middle-earth was all the references that Sauron was causing chaos while Morgoth was in Mandos and then in Valinor. This was already in the Myths Transformed chapter of Morgoth's Ring, but there were even more details in NoME.

Here's Myths Transformed because I don't feel like fishing out NoME (and I think this is more complete and canonical anyway):

We my assume, then, that the idea of breeding the Orcs came from Melkor, not at first maybe so much for the provision of servants or the infantry of his wars of destruction, as for the defilement of the Children and the blasphemous mockery of the designs of Eru. The details of the accomplishment of this wickedness were, however, left mainly to the subtleties of Sauron. in that case the conception in mind of the Orcs may go far back into the night of Melkor's thought, though the beginning of their actual breeding must await the awakening of Men. When Melkor was made captive, Sauron escaped and lay hid in Middle-earth; and it can in this way be understood how the breeding of the Orcs (no doubt already begun ) went on with increasing speed during the age when the Noldor dwelt in Aman; so that when they returned to Middle-earth they found it already infested with this plague, to the torment of all that dwelt there, Elves or Men or Dwarves. It was Sauron, also, who secretly repaired Angband for the help of his Master when he returned; and there the dark places underground.

So, I think we can conclude Sauron spent time in Valinor during the Age of the Lamps, but was already leaning or completely converted to Melkor's agenda at the time, and he left well before the elves arrived, very possibly before the elves woke up. I am not aware of any information that suggests otherwise, though if anyone has it, I'm happy to hear it.

So I think the many stories of Sauron in Valinor with elves are just playing with the idea and having fun with it, because it is an interesting idea, and not really worrying about the timeline. And I will end on that non-judgmental note!

[twistedtummies2]

Christopher Lee: A Sinister Centenary - Number 2

Welcome to Christopher Lee: A Sinister Centenary! Over the course of May, I have been counting down My Top 31 Favorite Performances by my favorite actor, the late, great Sir Christopher Lee, in honor of his 100th Birthday. Although this fine actor left us a few years ago, his legacy endures, and this countdown is a tribute to said legacy! It's time for the penultimate entry of this special countdown. Today’s Subject, My 2nd Favorite Christopher Lee Performance: Lord Summerisle, from The Wicker Man.

SCREW THE NICOLAS CAGE REMAKE!!! Ahem…sorry, I…seem to be programmed to say that anytime I mention The Wicker Man-SCREW THE NICOLAS CAGE REMAKE!!! Ahem-hem…sorry again. From this point on, I’ll just call “Wicker Man” for safety’s sake. It helps if I don’t say “the.” :P ANYWAY…alongside “Jinnah,” Lee considered “Wicker Man” to be his single favorite and best film, and it’s hard to disagree there. This very strange, surreal, and EXTREMELY dark picture is a genre-blending, one-of-a-kind thriller. It’s part horror film, part twist-turning murder mystery, part musical…and all around HIGHLY disturbing, even nowadays. The story follows a police officer, Neil Howie, who attempts to solve the mystery of a small girl’s strange disappearance on the island colony of Summerisle. A faithful Christian, Howie is appalled to discover the island’s residents practice rituals resembling a form of Celtic Paganism. As the story goes on, he discovers a massive conspiracy…a conspiracy that ends in his EXTREMELY horrifying downfall. A central figure in the unfolding madness is Christopher Lee as the leader of the colony, and a descendant of the island’s founders, Lord Summerisle. Summerisle is a mysterious, strange figure, one who – even all the way up to the end – we’re never able to fully unravel. He is a walking enigma; in some ways a civilized gentleman, reasonable and rational, and really quite friendly. But the fervor with which he commits his crimes and practices the dark rituals of the story creates an air of deep unease. It’s also not entirely clear how truthfully Summerisle BELIEVES in the pagan trials, or even how true they are to any kind of spiritual following: is he a mad cultist, a charlatan leading a band of disillusioned followers, or something else entirely? Perhaps the most disturbing question is if Summerisle is actually RIGHT in what he does, since it's left unclear if all his wicked workings even have the desired effect in the end or not. Only the audience can truly decide for themselves what is true and what is false. This role, in essence, gives one EVERYTHING they could want out of a great Christopher Lee performance, giving the actor a chance to show nearly the full breadth of his range as a performer all in one shot: he gets to sing, and he gets to dance. He has scenes of manic, wild power, and scenes of subtlety and softness. He has scenes where he is terrifying and intimidating, and scenes where you almost forget to be scared at all. The ambiguities of the character only help to add to the power of the part. It’s easy to see why this was one of Lee’s personal favorite roles, and I actually very, VERY nearly gave Lord Summerisle the number one slot…but the more I thought about it and inspected the situation, the more I felt that wasn’t quite right. Lord Summerisle is phenomenal, but there’s one Lee performance I like more…but I mustn’t say more, or I shall spoil what’s coming next. On that note…tomorrow, we reach the end of the countdown. Who will be my number one favorite? You’ll have to stick around to find out! ;)

[softholand]

in a heartbeat - h.o

pairing: harrison osterfield x reader

summary: dancing in the kitchen, a kiss, and a whole lot of feelings

warnings: angst, fluff

words: 2.5k

a/n: yay, my first harrison one shot!! if you feel like you’ve seen this before, you probably did lol i posted this yesterday but t*mblr decided to glitch, eat the two firsts paragraphs and don’t let me fix it, which was great :)) but it’s here now and it would mean the world to me if you guys read it and let me know your thoughts <333 ily all, enjoy!! xx

This was not how you expected your last month to go. Sharing a house with one of your best friends and another three, almost unknown, boys. It’s true that you also didn’t expect to find your boyfriend, now ex, in bed with another girl, and not just any other girl, it had to be your roommate. You were left with no choice, and no house, that’s how you found yourself at Harrison’s door all those days back. He welcomed you with open arms, before asking if you wanted him to punch your ex in the face, which you denied, even though he totally deserved it.

Yes, living with four boys was chaotic, but you couldn’t deny you liked being the “mom” of the house. You helped them with things that, before you, they had absolutely no idea how to do. Like operating the washing machine and how to properly clean a bathroom. It was fun and at the end of the day, you were grateful you had Harrison to accommodate you while you figured things out.

Yes, living with four boys was chaotic, but you couldn’t deny you liked being the “mom” of the house. You helped them with things that, before you, they had absolutely no idea how to do. Like operating the washing machine and how to properly clean a bathroom. It was fun and at the end of the day, you were grateful you had Harrison to accommodate you while you figured things out.

You had met Harrison through work and immediately hit it off. He was the sweetest and funniest guy ever and in just a couple of weeks, you two were practically glued to the hip. Okay, maybe you had a crush on him at the beginning but after not being very successful with subtlety letting him know, you gave up, and then you met your boyfriend and the feeling simply went away.

But now, sharing a house and spending most of your time with him, you had your doubts about said feelings. Like right now, where you two were currently doing the dishes, after a delicious dinner you and the boys had cooked. Harrison had his favorite playlist playing on the speakers, and while you washed the dishes, he dried them, sneaking some dance moves between each utensil you gave him.

Every Breath You Take by The Police suddenly came in and it was like your friend’s whole personality suddenly changed. He sang and danced to the lyrics while putting the already dry stuff away in the cabinets. His energy level was so high you couldn’t resist, joining him on his little performance.

You sang the lyrics at the top of your lungs, playfully turning your eyes to Harrison every time the song said “I’ll be watching you”, which made him laugh. At one point, he wrapped his arms around your waist, spinning you and your wet and foamy hands around. “You idiot, look at what you’ve done!” You smirked, splashing some of the soapy water at him. “No, you didn’t!” Harrison exclaimed, before also putting his hands on the sink, joining your little game.

Minutes later, both you and the kitchen were dripping wet, covered in foam, still laughing and playing around. Harrison kept splashing water around, while you tried to get away from him, without falling on your butt given the damp floors. Your laughter was loud and it didn’t stop until the song Iris by Go-Go Dolls started to play on the speakers. You immediately tensed, abruptly stopping your movements, which of course, caught Harrison’s attention.

“You okay?” He promptly asked, clearly concerned by your sudden change of behavior. “Yeah, no… it’s just, this was mine and Brad’s song.” You said, feeling stupid for even saying your ex-boyfriend’s name. “Oh, do you want me to change it?” He questioned, to which you shake your head. “No, it’s okay! I won’t let him ruin one of my favorite songs.” You sighed, propping yourself up on the kitchen counter.

In seconds, he was by your side, bravery putting one of his arms around your back, making you smile, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry!” He mumbled, to which you scoffed. “It’s okay, Haz! It’s not your fault he’s a dick.” You said, managing to laugh, which was enough for Harrison to smile. “It just makes me sad seeing you like this.” The blonde breathed, squeezing your side. “Don’t worry, Haz! You’re already doing more than enough for me.” You smiled, facing him.

Only then you realized how close the two of you really were, mere centimeters between each of your faces. You took your time to admire, even more, his eyes. You never understood why people called it ocean eyes but after meeting Harrison, you did because there was not a word to describe the intensity his blue eyes carried.

Subconsciously, or not, he leaned in, meeting your lips in a sweet kiss. It was like the world stopped and everything you could think about was Harrison. He was in every one of your thoughts, invading your mind the way his lips invaded your mouth. Your hands were on his hair, while he kept pushing your body closer and closer to his until you were almost on top of him.

“Hey, Haz! Have you seen my…? Oh, sorry!” The sudden voice made you both jump, completely startled, looking in the direction of it. Harry was standing a few feet away, with an apologetic expression. You quickly got out of the kitchen counter and tried to avoid both of the boy's eyes. “I’ll just… go!” That was the only thing you said before taking off to your room.

“Man, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know…” Harry tried to apologize but Harrison just shrugged him off, assuring him it was fine. It wasn’t though. “What happened?” The ginger-haired boy asked, taking a couple of steps closer. “I don’t know, we were just listening to music and doing the dishes, we started dancing and playing around with the water and… fuck, I don’t know. She said the song was hers and her ex-boyfriend’s and I tried to console her and we both kinda went for it.” Harrison tried his best to explain, while nervously passing his fingers through his blonde locks.

“I mean, this is good, right?” Harry asked, knowing his friend's growing feelings for you, but Haz shrugged, shaking his head. “I don’t know, Harry! I don’t think she was ready for it. Fuck, I’m an idiot!” Haz groaned. “Hey, stop that! Just let her, give her some time, and then you can talk and solve this whole thing up.” Harry said, trying his best to calm his friend. “Yeah, you’re right! I’ll talk to her tomorrow!” The blonde sighed, going back to his kitchen chores.

A day turned into two, then three, and suddenly a week had already passed and you and Harrison hadn’t had that conversation. You spend most of your days in your room, getting out to cook, eat and help your roommates with house chores, not once directing words differently than “Good morning!” or “Goodnight!” to them.

To Harrison, you didn’t really seem to mind but he was honestly losing it. His friends could tell he was miserable for the last week, so they finally sat him down and talked, encouraging him to talk to you. Harrison was apprehensive in the beginning but after a little bit of convincing, he decided the boys were right, he had to talk to you. So when he saw you in the backyard, with a book in your hands, he knew it was his perfect chance to do that.

Carefully to not startle you, he opened the sliding glass doors and joined you on the patio. “Hey!” He breathed, getting your attention. “Oh, hi!” You said, immediately closing your book, having an idea of what was about to happen. “I’m sorry, y/n! I was an idiot and shouldn’t have kissed you without asking you first.” He blurted, making you sigh. “Haz, it’s okay! You don’t have to apologize!” You assured him. “I think I have!” The blonde whimpered. “You don’t! I told you, it’s okay! It just took me by surprise!” You said, taking his clammy hands on yours.

“Does that means….” Harrison trailed off, getting his hopes up, only for it to come crashing down at your next words. “I don’t really know what it means, Haz! I’m sorry, it’s still too soon, my feelings are a little confused right now to say at least.” The sound of his heart breaking was so loud, he was almost sure you could hear it too. “Oh, o-okay…” He smiled sadly, making your own break this time. “I’m really sorry, Haz!” You tried apologizing, but he was quick to stop you. “No, it’s fine! You don’t have to apologize, y/n!” He sniffed, and you could see a single tear fighting to come out of the corner of his eye.

You kept holding his hands, feeling completely broken for what you just did, but you were indeed extremely confused. Your feelings were everywhere at the moment and you felt like you really needed some time to think. “Listen, I’m going to stay with Elsa for a little bit.” You started, making Harrison widen his eyes. “What? Why?” He inquired, feeling guilty already. “I just… I need some time, Haz! And don’t get me wrong, I’m so grateful you offered me a room and let me stay when I needed to, but I think I have to stay away to understand what’s going on here.” You said, motioning to your head.

And true to your words, you left the very next day. Harrison hugged you goodbye and wished you luck, even smiled while watching you get into the cab, but as soon as he closed the door, he collapsed in front of his friends. “I’m an idiot! I shouldn’t have kissed her! Now she’s gone and it’s my fault!” He cried while Tom rubbed his back, trying to comfort him. “She just needs some time, Haz! You guys would be alright!” The brunette assured him once again, but Harrison wasn’t having any of it. “No, it’s all my fault! I screwed up and ruined our friendship! Now she’s gone!” He cried, getting up from the sofa, slamming his bedroom door.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into a month without you living with the boys. Harrison was terrible the first days, he felt empty and like it was his fault you weren’t there anymore. But, as everyone says, time heals everything, now, a whole month after, he was feeling better. He realized, on the time you were gone, that he could live without you, of course, he could, that’s exactly what he’s been doing for the last month. The thing is, he didn’t want to, he wanted you by his side, even if you decided to be just friends, that was fine, he just really missed his best friend and so, he decided to go to Elsa’s place, where you were currently staying and tell you just that.

When he got that, his hands were sweating and he could feel his body shake with nerves, having to take deep breaths to calm himself down. “It’s just y/n, Harrison! It’s just y/n!” He tried to remember but that was exactly the reason why he was like that. It was you, his best friend, the most beautiful person he’s ever met, the only girl who could make him laugh, and the only one who’s seen him ugly cry. It was you and your dreamy eyes and hypnotizing laugh. The girl that could make his heart do somersaults on his chest and the one he wanted by his side for the rest of his life.

Before he could even ring the bell, the door swung open, revealing you on the other side, carrying a trash bag. “Haz?” You inquired, surprised. “Hi!” He answered, feeling his throat suddenly dry. “What are you doing here?” You asked, confused with his presence. “I was— I was hoping we could talk?” The blonde murmured, swallowing his nerves. “Oh, yeah! Come in!” You smiled, getting out of the way. “You were living? I can come back if you’re busy.” Harrison asked but you just shrugged him off. “No, I was just gonna take the trash out but that can wait!” You chuckled, disposing of the plastic bag, before offering him a seat.

“So, how are you?” You smiled, making Harrison even more nervous. “I’m good! Thanks! The boys miss you though, I miss you!” Haz admits, making you blush. “I miss you guys too, trust me, living with Elsa is not half as fun as living with all of you.” You laughed and just then Harrison realized how much he missed hearing this sound.

“I know you asked for time and if you need more, I understand, I just— I had to talk to you.” The blonde started, ready to let his feelings out. “It’s funny, you said you needed time to think and when you were away, it gave me time to think too. I didn’t know I needed it but turns out, I did.” He laughed. “I— I like you, y/n! Like… a lot! And I don’t know but the last few days made me think about how much I want you in my life. It doesn’t matter if it’s as a friend or something more, I just want my best friend back.” Harrison breathed, looking into your eyes for answers.

After clearing your throat, you answered, “I want you in my life too, Haz! You’re my best friend and I missed you like crazy.” Harrison smiled. “And I mean, Elsa’s girlfriend is moving in next week so, I kinda need a place to stay.” You told him, watching his eyes widen. “This means you are coming back?” He questioned, to which you nodded. “If you and the rest of boys are okay with that.”

You squealed, feeling Harrison’s arms around you. “Yes! Of Course, we’re okay with that!” He beamed, before realizing what he did. “I’m sorry!” He quickly apologized, trying to move away, but you stopped him. “There’s one more thing though.” You said, sealing your lips to his. You were dying to do it since the last time he kissed you and now, with him in your arms, you could finally feel his lips again.

“Turns out, I really like you too! And this time away only made me realize that. I want you in my life, Haz! But as you said before, a little bit more than friends this time.” You smiled, feeling insecure until Harrison’s stunned face made you smile. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to rush things just...” You cut him off with another kiss and this time, he smiled into it, pulling your body closer to his. “I mean it, Haz! I wanna be with you!” You reaffirmed, smiling into another kiss.

Just as Harrison pulled you into his lap and went for another kiss, you both heard the song Iris by Go-Go Dolls playing. You gasped, looking at Harrison. “Did you plan this?” You asked, completely shocked, but Harrison shook his head. “I have no idea where this is coming from.” He laughed, squeezing your sides.”Well, it seems like it’s destiny then!” You smirked, kissing him again.

You knew one of Elsa’s neighbors was loud and always listening to music but at that moment, you decided to believe in your theory, after all, the song that broke you apart now had also brought you two back together.

✧･ﾟ tagging some of my mutuals ✧･ﾟ@soft-haz @bi-writes @duskholland @sinisterspidey @uglypastels @screamholland @sunsetholland @hollandharrison @wazzupmrstark @missnxthingg @farfromparker @londonspidey @mrs-hollandstan @osterfield-holland-andcompany @peeterparkr @rosyparkers @veryholland @hollandbroz-n-haz @hotforharrison @storybookholland

[normalaboutdntm]

That's when Frank brought on Ivan Manchell to help write the story. The show became amazingly successful in Japan and Korea, with over 500k people seeing it. Ivan: How did the creative team adapt the complex themes & characters and stay faithful to the source material while also adding your own input?

Ivan: I'd just done Bonnie & Clyde with Wildhorn so writing a musical about killing a bunch of people was like “Here we go again.”

I wasn't familiar with Death Note; I read the manga and was blown away and it immediately became clear that it was mine to not screw up, like Michelangelo finding David in the block of marble: “it was all there, and it was really a pleasure finding it, how to tell it onstage.”

The first thing I did was look at the manga and think about all the things that absolutely HAVE to be onstage. "You know them, they're all iconic. The only one I couldn't get in was the freakin' potato chip - that deserved its own song, but you gotta kill your darlings."

Musicals are usually about all this emotion but DN kinda shies away from that, it's an action-packed game of cat and mouse. When working on Bonnie & Clyde I had decided not to have shoot-outs on stage and this was a similar challenge of really delving into the characters to find what the story was about. The writing and images from the manga are so powerful, "how can we capture that?" A lot of scenes happen simultaneously - Light's bedroom, the police station, Misa's recording studio - to keep that steamrolling energy from the manga.

I did find that love story, there were actually a lot of love stories: familial love (Soichiro for his son), narcissistic love (Light for himself), unrequited love (Rem for Misa, "which is one of the most beautiful stories I've seen on stage and I really wanted to push that as far as I could go"), and love of justice.

A big challenge was inventing an ending; there was no way we could fit 13 volumes on stage. I read the manga only because I didn't want to be influenced by too many other things. I wrote four endings [he did not elaborate], they went to Oba and Obata who approved the ending we have now. I've still never seen Oba, but having that collaboration was a "huge moment in my life."

At this point I'd worked on 4 shows with Wildhorn, who started producing melodies at the same time I was organizing the story and Jack Murphy was writing "some of the best lyrics you're gonna hear anywhere." Frank would come up with Hurricane, an amazing moment in the show, and I’d figure out visually what I’d want to see, Jack would come up with the lyrics, and I’d negotiate between the two of them, and I’d start to form these moments in the show and then kind of link them, see what we had. Frank and I created an architecture to the score that we felt was compelling, was exciting, not overly emotional. We wanted to keep it very powerful and keep things huge. There’s massive themes and i think that’s why it has so much longevity - people are just in love with the themes of this manga and the way they’re treated. You can talk about it forever, all the intricacies, all the subtleties, so it was really important to get everything in the show. And in the end we felt we had created something absolutely faithful to the manga but that had its own DNA and felt like a musical that belonged onstage.

The greatest gift we were given was the acceptance of the fans. Acceptance of musical theater people was one thing, but the acceptance of the fans was everything. That was how we knew we’d created something that was worthwhile in the world of DN.

Playbill Presents: Death Note: The Musical Panel at NYCC2023

As described on the NYCC site:

"Following acclaimed productions in Japan and Korea and after two star-studded sold-out concert engagements in London, DEATH NOTE: The Musical is coming to New York Comic Con. Playbill will present a panel about the show featuring stars from the recent London concert (cast to be announced) and will offer a sneak peek into the developing production. "Based on the best-selling Japanese manga series (60 million copies worldwide) of the same name by Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata / Shueisha, this groundbreaking musical (Winner Best Musical, Korea Musical Awards) has a score by Frank Wildhorn (Jekyll & Hyde, 4 years on Broadway, The Scarlet Pimpernel, Bonnie & Clyde) with lyrics by Jack Murphy, book by Ivan Menchell, and orchestrations and arrangements by Jason Howland."

And on Playbill.com:

"October 14's programming kicks off with a Death Note: The Musical panel at 10:30 AM. Set to appear are cast members Adam Pascal, Joaquin Pedro Valdes, and Dean John-Wilson; producers Yuzo Kajiyama and Jamie Chapman Dixon; and book writer Ivan Menchell, with producer Haley Swindal hosting."

For context, this was the earliest panel slot on the third day of a four-day con. Not quite prime territory (especially with the listening party as the last slot of the same day) but they still secured a really good turnout with a lot of cosplayers. Need I remind everyone, the manga is twenty years old, and the anime isn't much younger. So it's really a sign of DN's staying power and the love that people have for this show that congoers showed up in droves to check out this preview.

Unfortunately nothing of consequence was announced at this panel or at the listening party. I was hoping we'd get confirmation of the West End run or even a Broadway concert performance, but no such luck. I was also looking forward to the audience Q&A but tbh all the information we received was so fascinating that I'm glad Haley let the panelists talk instead of trying to keep time for that.

[ID: Adam Pascal, Joaquin Pedro Valdes, Dean John Wilson, Jamie Chapman Dizon, Ivan Menchell, a translator, and Yuzo Kajiyama sitting on stage at NYCC while Haley Swindal stands at a podium.]

After thanking sponsors and bringing everyone on stage, Haley opened by asking each guest a question, starting with Yuzo, the producer of the original Japanese production.

[everything here not in quotation marks is paraphrased]

Haley: Yuzo, what about Death Note inspired you to turn it into a musical, and what were the steps you took to get there?

Yuzo's translator: When he started at Horipro in 2006, at that time all the musicals were imported. He felt the need to produce original musical shows from within Japan. And that was when he had his eyes on Death Note. Horipro already had a relationship with Shueisha, the rightsholders, from the DN movie.

He had two things he felt were important in making this:

The content had to be something that was internationally popular.

Light Yagami’s actor would always get recognized when he went abroad.

It needed to have some kind of extraordinary element to fit with the spontaneous singing.

The concept of the comic, a person who has their name written and dies and the presence of the shinigami, he felt was a perfect fit for the musical.

He also knew that since Shonen Jump, the magazine Death Note originally appeared in, is sold for 2 dollars, the show therefore needs to be a low price.

So that’s when he went to Shueisha. He remembers the first words that they said were “Death Note is gonna be a musical show?" At that time there was only one manga-adaptation musical: The Prince of Tennis. He convinced the people at Shueisha that this would be a first-class show.

Yuzo knew the most important part of the production was the music. At the time Horipro was involved with the Japanese production of Jeykll & Hyde, which also had themes of justice. Yuzo approached Frank Wildhorn about DNtM, but Wildhorn turned it down because "it had to have a love story element, which he felt was the most important aspect" of a musical. Yuzo was impressed by this.

Wildhorn went back to the US and spoke to his son who was a big fan of Death Note, and his son told him he needed to take the job. [Everyone cheered.]

(continuing in reblogs)

[peachtree-dish]

A Te Che Sei Il Mío Grande Amore

Chapter 3: Senza che tu mi dica niente tutto si fa chiaro

Luglio 01, 1969

Luca’s birthday rolled around faster than anyone expected, the day arriving with clear skies and high temperatures. Luca awoke to his mother’s voice echoing through their home as she prepared breakfast. Stretching, the fifteen-year-old shook his nonna as gently as he could to wake her. She grumbled at his attempts and swatted at his claws.

“Nonna,” he sighed, shrugging with a smile and swimming into the kitchen to greet his parents. During his time in Porto Rosso, Luca enjoyed every moment he could swimming and spending as much time in the water since he couldn’t do as much in Genoa. He, along with Giulia and Signora Mia, had snuck to the shoreline in the early hours of the morning every few weeks or so just so Luca could refresh his scales and get the nutrients he needed. It was especially necessary when the temperature had become too cold and made him lethargic and ill. Luca shook his head softly, sending bubbles rippling above him in search of the surface. Signora Mia had been just as kind as Massimo, and just as headstrong in a lot of ways. He made a silent promise to call her with Giulia to make sure she was doing well, even if he were sure nothing could fell the infamous Mia Berni.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Daniella kissed Luca’s cheek and handed him a plate full of seaweed and fish flank on his way to the table. Returning the sentiment, the youth sat beside his father and informed his parents that grandma had decided to sleep in a little longer.

“Ugh, she does this every time. MA!” Daniella shouted in frustration, only to be startled by her own mother swimming around the corner.

“You’re being dramatic, dear. I only do it when I think it will annoy you.” The elderly sea monster smiled toothily at her disgruntled daughter who muttered, “Which is every day,” and finished setting the table.

“So, how does it feel to be another year older, son?” Lorenzo floated a piece of fish to his mouth and chewed animatedly, his gaze never leaving Luca’s. Luca shrugged in response and picked at the seafood drifting across the coral table.

“Not any different than last year, honestly. I still feel like I’m fourteen, so nothing special.” He slurped the seaweed into his mouth, much to his mother’s chagrin, and instantly missed the taste of pasta.

“Fifteen is a pretty big deal, though, you’re becoming a young man and that means changes and more responsibility.”

“I hardly think now is the time to discuss any of that at the table.” Luca’s grandmother scoffed before he could reply.

“What, it’s just the basics; Longer tail and fins, not to mention attracting the pretty lady gills, eh?” Lorenzo nudged Luca in the side who nearly choked on his food and spluttered white bubbles over the table, his scales flushing darkly.

“Lorenzo!” Danielle cried, her claws slapping the table in mortification.

“What? We were around his age when we met. If I remember correctly, you thought I was quite the catch.” He batted his eyes at her, pursing his lips teasingly.

“I was young and silly; I didn’t know any better.” Try as she might, Daniella couldn’t stop the smile that threatened to break her scowl. She busied herself by shredding the fish flank and wrapping it in seaweed. Undeterred, Lorenzo lifted from his chair and leaned in closer, trying to further fluster his wife.

“Yeah, maybe, but you still accepted my courting pearl after the Spring Swim Festival.” Lorenzo pulled a reluctant Daniella out of her chair and began to lead her around the room in spins and pivots, grinning madly as she shrieked with laughter. Luca watched with a mixture of amusement and confusion, his discomfort fading as he pushed the idea of ‘lady gills’ far from his mind. When he peered at his grandma, she appeared nonplussed and continued munching on her food although a genuine smile lifted her aging scales.

“You were skinnier and more handsome then, of course, she fell for you.” Lorenzo pouted at his mother-in-law and led both he and Daniella back to the table.

“I simply grew into my man body,” He emphasized his point by sticking his gut out even farther and patted it proudly. The table burst into laughter and Luca quickly finished eating after, his stomach nearly as full as his heart.

After he finished, he turned to his mother and asked, “Is it ok if I go visit Alberto and Giulia for the afternoon?”

Daniella conceded with a content nod, “Just don’t forget about our dinner tonight at Massimo’s, we don’t want you kids to be late.” Luca agreed cheerfully and kissed each family member on the cheek before swimming out the entrance.

“Hey!” Luca turned mid swim to see Daniella at the entrance. “I love you.”

“I love you too, ma!” Grinning, Luca took off, the water gliding past him as he made his way to the surface and his friends. As he leaped through the blue waves, he imagined he was like the superhero from the newspaper comics that Giulia and Mia both read. Pointing both fists forwards, Luca broke the surface with a whoop, water streaming behind him like a cape.

When he arrived at the Marcovaldo residence, the only beings there to greet them were Machiavelli and a few of his kits, each of whom wanted his attention and brief affection. Finding some of his spare clothes in the drawers of Alberto and Giulia's shared room, Luca quickly left the house and wandered the streets, eager to find his friends. Judging from the sun, he knew the morning fishing trip had come to an end not too long before which should mean Giulia, and Alberto was out delivering. Walking through the town square, Luca waved to a few of the patrons he recognized, mentally wincing as he remembered his first attempts at greeting Porto Rosso’s patrons. If anyone had been the stupidi, it had been them.

Chuckling as he went up the city’s hill, Luca caught sight of two familiar heads of curls along with two faces he was not expecting. Tensing at the sight of Guido and Ciccio, Luca prepared himself for a fight and made to run the rest of the way before he heard laughter. Guido was laughing at something Alberto had said and lightly touched his shoulder. Somehow, the movement was worse than if he had punched Alberto instead. A dark and ugly feeling reared its head within Luca’s belly, causing his face to burn and his hands to clench. Clenching his teeth, the young sea monster marched up the cobblestone pathways, intent on not showing his discomfort.

“Ciao,” he muttered shortly, arriving beside Alberto, and instantly causing Guido to lift his hand from Alberto’s shoulder. Giulia nodded hello from her seat on the bike as Alberto wrapped an arm around Luca’s shoulder.

“Oh, hey Luca,” Alberto cheered even more so upon seeing Luca. “You remember Guido and Ciccio, vero? I helped their families in the off-season while you were away.” Luca looked at the two teens who stood abashedly in front of him and offered his hand after a moment of hesitation.

“It’s good to see you both again,” Not, he thought as he shook the brunette’s hand. Ciccio spoke up, his round features coloring.

“We realize we never officially apologized to you before you left, si? We’re really sorry about last summer, Luca.”

“Si, Ciccio, and I were very foolish and ignoranti, we hope you can forgive us, and we can start again.” Guido smiled warmly, his gaze sincere. Taking a deep breath, Luca felt his earlier feeling of… whatever it was, fading away. If Alberto and Giulia both felt they could trust these boys again, then he could follow their lead.

“Lo apprezzo. I know being around Ercole wasn’t the easiest either, it’s all water under the bridge now anyway.” He smiled genuinely this time, heartened when the two ex-henchmen immediately relaxed.

“Bah, no lie, I’m so happy to be rid of that jerk,” Guido nodded at Ciccio who nodded and twisted his hands anxiously.

“He ate so much of my family’s bread,” Ciccio whispered horrified, his gaze wide. Giulia shared a weirded-out expression with Alberto who only shook his head.

“I didn’t know your family baked,” Luca interceded, ignoring his friends’ lack of subtlety Snapping back to the present, Ciccio grinned widely showing his perfectly white teeth.

“Oh, si, Pasticcini al sale Marino is the pride and joy of Porto Rosso and my family. Our baked goods bring customers from miles around; you should see the line of people who want to buy my mother’s Sfogliatella.” He leaned in conspiratorially to whisper, “My siblings and I have been helping since we were little, so only we know the recipe.” He puffed his round chest out proudly, only to be poked by both Alberto and Guido.

“Knowing a recipe and following it correctly are two different things, Ciccio. Your batter was not very good the last time you tried to make Bombolini.” Guido teased and Alberto nodded knowingly.

“I still don’t know how you mixed up salt and sugar,” the older sea monster screwed his face in disgust, remembering how the supposedly sweet treats and mistakenly been made with copious amounts of salt. “Seriously, Ciccio, even the ocean’s not as salty as those things were.” Ciccio pouted good-naturedly as the group laughed.

“It’s still not as bad as the time Guido set the auto garage on fire,” the blond argued mildly to which said boy grimaced.

“I thought we agreed to never speak of that again; I thought my papa was going to skin me alive.”

The teens chatted a bit more and Luca began to warm up to the two boys who had hurt him so much the past year. Perhaps, he reasoned, they had been good all along and had simply needed the chance to prove themselves.

Bidding Guido and Ciccio farewell, Luca joined Alberto and Giulia as they made the rounds. Luca asked a question that had been on his mind since arriving in Porto Rosso.

“So, whatever happened to Ercole? I haven’t seen him since we’ve been in town.” Alberto placed the cash from his previous sale into the leather pouch of the cart before answering.

“Honestly, the guy kind of disappeared after the race. I think he was embarrassed enough to keep his head low for a while, but other than that, I’m not sure. Maybe he left?” Giulia thought for a moment, her gaze focused on the road ahead.

“Maybe, I don’t think he went away to university, but he could have. His family is really wealthy, so they could afford it no matter the grades he got.”

Luca kicked a pebble, his thoughts skipping back to that one word: university.

“What’s the point of grades anyway, doesn’t that, like, stress you out more?” Alberto mused.

“It certainly does for me,” Giulia huffed. She bid Buongiorno to a young mother who bought the last of their fish and both Luca and Alberto filled the empty space as they headed back down the hill.

“I think it’s mostly competition, to see who really wants to be an academico or no,” she contemplated. “Sometimes if you have really good grades, the universities will pay you to study in their schools. That happened to mama when she moved to Genoa.” Alberto winced slightly at the mention of Giulia’s mother, the story of her separation from Massimo fresh in his memory.

“I wonder if I was good enough, they’d do that for me?” Luca hummed, his eyes following the drains that spread across each building they passed.

“Well, duh, they’d be stupid not to; you’re better than good enough right now,” Alberto bumped his shoulder with a smile. Luca blushed and tossed his friend a grin.

“Hey, happy birthday by the way. It’s about time you got to my age,” the older boy winked and wrapped his arm around Luca again, causing Luca’s skin to hum with energy.

“Oh, yeah! Are you excited for tonight?” Giulia asked over her shoulder.

“Thanks, you guys, really,” Luca felt warmer with Alberto’s arm around him, and he was sure it had nothing to do with the afternoon sun. He wondered briefly if said boy could feel how hard his heart was pounding. “Should I be excited, I thought we were just having dinner?” Luca asked, brow furrowing in confusion. He twisted around to face Giulia as she pulled into the plaza and made her way towards the small coastal home. Alberto lifted his arm when Luca turned away, causing him to feel its loss.

Giulia glanced at him and grinned excitedly. “Papa saved some fireworks from the Festa Della Repubblica since we were in Genoa, and he wants to set them off for tonight.” Luca gasped and jumped in his seat.

“Santa mozzarella! Are you serious?!” He shared an animated glance with Alberto who smiled as he hopped off the cart.

“Of course! I mentioned to him how much you had enjoyed the fireworks during Vigilia di Capodanno last December. He decided that would be his gift to you this year.” Giulia locked the bike and carried their bag of earnings inside, the two boys following after her.

Inside they found Massimo at his stove, his presence filling up the majority of the room. He turned to greet them as they entered, placing a kiss upon Giulia’s curly head.

“Buon cumpleanno, Luca. May you live to see many more,” Massimo rumbled fondly, patting Luca on his checkered shoulder. Luca returned the sentiment and wrapped a short hug around the large man, his arms too small to wrap fully around him.

“Grazie, Massimo. For your wishes and for your surprise gift,” Luca pulled away while Massimo smiled happily, his eyes disappearing behind his bushy eyebrows.

“Giulia,” Massimo chided lightly, turning to his daughter who was counting out money, “I thought we agreed to keep it a secret until after dinner?” Giulia smiled apologetically.

“Scusa, papa, we were just too excited,” She and Alberto began counting the coins on the table while Massimo ushered Luca over to the stove.

“Come, Luca, you will help me prepare dinner,” Massimo handed him a bag of clams and ordered him to wash them thoroughly in the sink. Luca would be the first to admit he was not a cook, but Massimo was gentle in his orders and easily guided Luca in making a perfect pasta dinner.

Once the Paguro family arrived along with Ciccio and Guido, once again to Luca’s surprise, the night was filled with much laughter and filling food. The linguine pasta alle vongole was instantly a hit and paired nicely with the red wine Ciccio had brought on behalf of his family. To the teens’ disappointment, the adults were adamant that they were still too young for alcohol. At one moment, Lorenzo laughed so hard, he inhaled his pasta and sent part of it into his nose much to the delight of the children. After dinner, the group trouped outside with fireworks and dessert in hand. While Massimo and Lorenzo set up the fireworks near the edge of the waterline, Daniella, Giulia, and Ciccio helped serve gelato and watermelon.

With a happy sigh, Alberto nestled himself into the sand alongside Luca, happily chewing on the red-fleshed fruit. Luca’s eyelids were drooping as his body felt full and warm, accompanied by his own friend’s radiating heat. His gaze lingered as Alberto licked gelato from his lips, the cream dripping from the corner of his mouth. Forcing his eyes to look anywhere else, Luca shifted closer to Alberto. Instead, his gaze landed on his father asking animatedly about the fireworks in Massimo’s hand, the larger man looking both confused and entertained by Lorenzo’s energy.

“I know I already said it, but happy birthday,” Luca dragged his eyes back to the tanned boy next to him and smiled. He jumped slightly at the first explosion, watching in delight as the light of the fireworks made his friend’s skin glisten with multicolored hues.

“Thank you for sharing it with me,” He replied easily. Neither made comment as their arms brushed or as their hands splayed out behind them with barely any space between. Up above the merry group, bright color after bright color bloomed across a starlit sky, the stars twinkling their own delight.

[benwllbond]

If you are still taking Robin/Julian prompts, can I please get some fluff with the two of them teaming up to play online chess and talking smack about their opponent?

i hope u enjoy this!! sorry its taken a little while for me to get done, i hope its kind of what u had in mind?? trying to write dialogue for julian is very difficult but i hope its okay!! if anyone has any more robin/julian prompts feel free to send them to me :)

i don't believe this has any spoilers for s3, but if u r super worried, this is written through the lens of having seen season 3, so there may be subtleties or something but i dont think so?

---

Chess had been Julian and Robin’s “thing” for as long as Julian had been at Button House, give or take a few days. They would spend hours sitting at the chess board, initially attempting to teach Robin the basics of the game, and then later trying to keep in their minds the placements of all the pieces as they played.

The board that had sat for years, when Heather owned the house, untouched and gathering dust, had been a host for years of memories, chronicling so many of the major points in what was shared between them, from the very beginning, when Julian had died and Robin had first elected to take part in the game, to now, with Alison and Mike in the house, shaking up their routines completely. It seemed to Julian that all of the most important moments in his death could somehow be linked back to that chessboard.

As such, it made sense that the both of them were resistant to change. The idea seemed sacreligious, almost, and although that would usually push Julian in favour of something, this all felt entirely wrong to him. Alison’s offer to let them leave the table where Julian had first learnt of his ability, the pieces Robin had learnt to play with, although tempting, had initially seemed too much.

Vaguely surprisingly, it was Robin who came around first; possibly it was the man’s familiarity with change - nothing much was left the same over the thousands of years he had lived on the land of Button House - or maybe it was just the intrigue offered by the prospect of the online medium, but after a brief consideration, he was more than willing to give Alison’s suggestion a try - and to pester Julian about it.

“We make good team,” he explained one evening, as they sat in one of the sitting rooms, enjoying the ambiance of the fire, “And we can both win game then!”

Julian did have to concede that he had a point there, but despite how much he enjoyed utilising Alison’s new technologies, he couldn’t quite find himself willing to let go of their little chess board, no matter how ridiculously sappy and pathetic it sounded. The temptation to try this online chess game was strong, but Julian couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

“You just want to make all this extra work for me, don’t you,” he whinged, “Of course you’d go along with it, it's nothing to you!”

He didn’t even have to look to see Robin’s eyeroll.

“You as whiny as Thomas.”

Julian screwed his face up at the idea, before dramatically falling onto Robin, spreading himself out across the couch, his head in the caveman’s lap.

“I guess I can possibly consider doing this,” he groaned dramatically, and Robin couldn’t help but shake his head - he really was becoming far too much like the poet.

Nevertheless, however, he smiled down at Julian, who still had a ridiculously put out expression on his face.

“Love you.”

--

Julian didn’t like admitting he was wrong, but despite the awful cramps he was getting in his hand, if he were being honest, this was awfully fun.

He was still unsure if it was as good as playing against Robin, trying to keep up with where all the pieces had been moved, but it certainly had proven to be fun, so far at least, to play with him instead. It was nice to shake things up a bit, he figured, after 30 odd years of almost daily games, something new was nice.

“Take his prawn!” Robin exclaimed from next to him, animatedly pointing at the screen.

Obligingly, Julian agreed, wincing as he clicked the touchscreen to move the piece. “This is the last game for today, okay? This is hard work for me!”

“You not know hard work if it right in front of you,” Robin muttered, unhappy at the thought of losing his new favourite hobby for the rest of the day.

Before Julian had even had the chance to respond indignantly to that comment, Robin interjected,

“Dickhead!”

When Julian returned his focus to the screen, he saw that their opponent had taken their queen. Yeah, dickhead sounded about right.

The pair spent a moment in silence, staring analytically at the screen, contemplating their next move, calculating their next step. As the timer on the side of their screen continued to count down, Julian’s eyes widened in realisation and he began attempting to click the screen. When he saw what Julian was trying to do, Robin let out a pre-emptive celebratory cheer.

“Checkmate! We win!”

And sure enough, after a couple of attempts where his hand passed through the screen, when Julian managed to move the piece, the screen lit up with the message that they’d won.

“Aha! I told you, not just a handsome face!”

Robin rolled his eyes, but nonetheless, raised his hand, grinning, and Julian high fived him, somewhat reluctantly, because he knew what was going to happen next - the caveman was, if nothing else, predictable.

“We play again?” He asked, looking hopefully at Julian and he grimaced, both from the pain because his hands really were cramping really quite badly, and because he knew, as much as he prided himself in his ability to act in his own self interest, that he wouldn’t be able to say no to Robin.

“Genuinely though, one more game. That’s it, or you have to make Alison come and press all these buttons for you because my hands can not take any more of this! I am a respected politician, and will not stand for being treated like your slave, pressing all these buttons for you… I guess that is the burden of being the most skilled…”

Robin let Julian’s ranting and raving blend into the background for a moment, before deciding he had most definitely had enough - jabbing him in the ribs with his elbow proved to be a good enough solution to that problem.

Before Julian could start on a whole new tangent about his deserved respect, Robin gestured to the screen, reminding him of what was actually important.

“Game on!”

[mercurysstars]

The Shadow Thief (part 3)

Summary: What happens when Peter has to work with the girl he hates to possibly save the world.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Swearing, Blood, Violence.

A/n: Sorry it took me so long to post again! I’ve wrote like 3 different versions of this chapter because I didn’t know what direction to go in just yet.

_

"Woah, dude. Did you see this?" Y/n held out Peter's phone shoving it in his face.

Y/n had gone over to Peters house early that morning to get the last finishing touches on their project done. So they both reluctantly decided to walk together to school.

Peter snatched his phone out of Y/n's hands as they crossed the street. "How did you even get my phone? It was in my hands." She shrugged and pointed back at the article.

Peter scrolled down the page. Incoming reports say Avengers went on a mission and since gone MIA. How didn't he know about this? And why didn't the Avengers at least tell him they were going to be gone. Peter was confused, to say the least. Were they in trouble? No, they couldn't be they are the earth's mightiest heroes. Right?

"They probably just had to extend their mission and forgot to report back in." Or at least he hoped. He didn't want to think of the latter. He decided after school he would go to the compound and make sure everything was alright.

"If you say so." They walked up the stairs to the second floor of the school.  Peter opened the door and they both walked into English. Y/n took her seat next to Mj and Peter next to Ned.

The thought of the Avengers missing did worry Y/n a bit. She wasn't a big fan of superheroes but she also was not, not a fan. It was complicated. Sure she liked the security of having someone to save the day. But she hated that they pretended to be better than everyone else. They judge criminals as they themselves have never done anything wrong. They tend to blame everything on everyone else and never take responsibility.

Y/n felt a nudge to her arm. She turned her head to face Mj. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"No, no it's alright I'm just thinking," Y/n said. She pulled out her laptop and opened her and Peter's presentation to have it ready just in case they had to go first.

Their opening slide was a picture of Anne Frank surrounded by a pretty border and Anne Frank’s name in cursive in the middle. Peter insisted their project had to look nice and not like some shitty last-minute one like she had originally done. Y/n had teased Peter relentlessly about it saying maybe he should be a graphic designer instead of Spider-Man. And he of course huffed and pretended to ignore her.

"Well, you just looked worried. Anyways tell me if you need any help." Y/n gave Mj a grateful smile. Y/n knew Mj could have this cold, hard exterior but she knew she secretly cared.

The bell rang signaling the first period started. The teacher stood up from her desk and walked to the front of the room clasping her hands together. "Good morning class. Today is the first official day for our presentations. We'll be picking who goes first by random. Any questions?"

One girl toward the front of the classroom stuck up her hand "Yes, Betty."

"Did you see the news? About the avengers?" The class erupted within hushed conversation everyone stating their theories of what happened and their worries.

"Alright, class settle down. I did see but we will continue like normal." She said. It kind of seemed like to Y/n she didn't care at all but she didn't really think anything of it.

The phone rang and the teacher quickly excused herself. Y/n picked at her fingers mindlessly. The teacher muttered a few words into the phone and hung up "Y/n, Peter." Her eyes snapped up at the sound of her name "They want you down in the office. And bring your things."

Y/n furrowed her brows. Her eyes met Peters "What did you do?" He mouthed just as confused as her.

What did she do? What the hell did he do. She hasn't done anything wrong. Well, at least nothing she gotten caught for.  "Dude if anyone did anything it was you! I've only been here for like 3 weeks." She whispered-yelled back.

He put his hands up defensively. Y/n shoved all of her things in her bag and zipped it up. Mj raised an eyebrow at her and Y/n just shrugged with a clueless look on her face.

Y/n walked over to the door opening it with her free hand while her chrome book was in the other.  Peter followed not too far behind. They step out and began to walk down the hallway shoulder to shoulder not a word muttered between them.

The hall was empty. No teacher, no janitor, no late students, not even the common lost freshman. It was strange to Y/n. She turned to Peter "This is weird. It's almost like it's too."

"Quiet." He finished for her. Peter felt off. His spidey sense wasn't alarming him with anything but it was almost like a gut feeling you'd get when some strange guy came up to you at a party being a little too friendly.

"Yeah." Exactly. They continued down the hall both on high alert. When they passed a window Y/n could see two men dressed in suits around the corner through the reflection.

"I think they're following us." She whispered to Peter. Y/n has picked up a thing or two of trying not to be noticed but the men behind them didn't seem like they cared much for subtlety. They had their eyes set on Y/n and Peter taking wide quick steps.

This time his spidey sense went off. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Peter reached for his web-shooters "We need to get out of here."

"You think?" Y/n back said in an aggravated tone. The next time they passed by a window she could see them screw something together slowly by their side.

Y/n glanced down to get a better look, it was a gun. All she could hear was the beating of her heart thumping loudly in her ears. Thinking quickly Y/n shoved Peter into a locker. A bullet whizzed past where his head once was and made a tiny thump when it hit the wall.

His eyes went wide momentarily stunned before he sprung into action. He shot out a web, grabbed the gun out of the man's hand, and flung it across the hall, making sure he couldn't get to it.

The men paused for a minute before muttering something to each other end breaking into a spring toward them. Well mostly at Peter luckily for her but still in her direction. Peter began to fight the one whose gun he had stolen hand to hand. The man got in a punch to Peter's face. Peter tripped him and tied him up with his webs.

The second man was coming toward her. Before she could second guess herself Y/n took her chrome book and slapped the man across the face with it. The man was momentarily shocked and Y/n opened an unlocked locker hitting him in the face. She watched him slide down the lockers unconscious.

More men turned the corner and came down the hallway. Y/n kicked a waist-length garbage can with wheels toward them as a small distraction. Peter grabbed Y/n pulling her into an empty classroom.

Y/n locked the door before she grabbed Peter and dragged him further into the classroom into a supply closet. They both crouched behind a mop bucket leaving the door cracked for a tiny bit of light.

"Would you like to tell me why there's someone outside this classroom trying to blow my brain out!" She huffed.

"Don't ask me. For all, we know they could be after you!" They both flinched as they heard the door handle shake.

"They were attacking you. Shooting at you. And you'd have a bullet in the back of your head if I didn't push you out of the way if I might add." She poked him in the chest.

The men began to start kicking at the door trying to break it down "Maybe if we figure out who they are we can get out of this."

"You know what I have an idea." Y/n reached back and grabbed the gun out of the waistband of her pants. Y/n started not to care much for introductions when they tried to assassinate her. Her motto was to shoot first ask questions later because she was not going down without a fight.

"What the hell Y/n! Where did you even get a gun?" Peter tried to put some distance between them but failed and ended up bumping into a shelf.

"Calm down bug boy I'm not going to shoot you." She rolled her eyes "I grabbed it off the guy while I smashed my laptop over his head."

"You are not shooting anyone!" He exclaimed. He was going to die with a psychopath. A literal psychopath. What would his uncle Ben say if he could see him right now?

"Fine whatever. How many webs do you have left?"

"Only one." He muttered.

"Only one! How the hell do you only have only one web left?" Oh lord. She was going to die in a janitor's closet with an idiot.

"Oh well, I'm sorry I didn't know I would have someone trying to paint the walls with my organs. I must have forgotten to mark it on my calendar!"

"Oh god, Okay." Y/n rubbed her forehead with her free hand.

She took the clip out of her gun and counted the bullets she had. Two. Okay, she could work with that, Somehow. She just had to live long enough to beat Peter up for almost getting them killed.

She turned back to Peter "Alright here's the plan so we are going to jump out of the window and see just how far that web can exactly get us." She could hear the pounds on the door getting more frequent and if she was being honest she was surprised it held this long.

"Are you crazy! You going to get us both killed." He didn't need the answer because he already knew she was. He swore he could see the shadows swirl around her for a moment but as quickly as it was there it was gone.

"Do you have any better ideas because I'm all ears, Parker?" He didn't say anything and just ran a hand through his hair letting out a frustrated sigh.

"That's what I thought." Y/n knew there was a good chance that they get hit by incoming traffic like a bug on a windshield but it was either that or the SWAT team outside.

"Let's get this over with." Said Y/n. They both stepped outside of the closet. The men outside the room gave the door one last kick and it broke off of the hinges. "Go." That was all Peter said.

Y/n shot the window with the two bullets she had. Peter ran over to Y/n and grabbed onto her tightly. They jumped through the window shattering it. Peter shoots out his last web hooking onto a nearby tree. At the peak of the swing, Peter let go of the web. They flew over the traffic narrowly avoiding the cars.

When they finally reached the ground they hit it hard. Peter took most of the impact but Y/n still hit her head. They continued to hold tightly onto each other as they rolled through the grass from the momentum of the swing.

They came to a slow stop and Y/n landed on top of Peter. She slumped off to the side of him and sat up. Peter did the same but with a groan feeling all of the bones in his body.

He noticed blood began to trickle out of Y/n's nose. "You got something." He pointed to her nose.

She wiped under her nostrils with her fingers and then again with the bottom of her shirt without a second thought "Oh, Thanks."

Peter rested his head on his knees. What was he going to do? As much as he didn't like Y/n he felt bad for dragging her into this. "We need to get going they are going to come looking for us soon."

"Where are we going to go?" The light was starting to become too much so Y/n put her hand over her eyes to shield her from the sun. She was starting to get a headache and just wanted to lay down. Peter stood up and dusted off his shirt and pants.

"Avengers compound." He held out a hand to her. She took it and he pulls her up onto her feet. They began to walk toward the street.

"I just don't know how we are going to get there." He added. They made it onto the sidewalk. Y/n was stumbling around so Peter kept his pace slow so she could keep up with him.

Y/n stopped walking "What do you think of this car?" She nodded to a 1997 Honda Accord.

"It's cool I guess." He said confused the car was a little old but he didn't say anything.

"Alright good. Now hand me your web-shooters." She held out her hand toward him.

"Okay?" He didn't really know what she was trying to get at. Peter just assumed she hit her head too hard but he complied anyway.

Y/n crouched down facing the car. She broke his web-shooters over her knee taking out two long curved metal pieces. She handed him back the rest of his broken web-shooters. Peter stared at her wide-eyed as she stuck the two metal pieces into the lock of the car.

"What are you doing." He hissed. Peter walked closer to Y/n trying to cover her as she picked the lock to the car.

"I just gave our problem a solution." She said without looking. She continued to twist the pieces around until she heard a little click. She gave a little cheer and opened the door.

"Yeah by stealing someone's car. Need I remind you is illegal."

" I like to think of it as borrowing. Besides I will happily leave you if you wish." She rolled her eyes. God, her head was throbbing.

Y/n took the plastic cover off of the steering column. There were three sets of wires and she grabbed the middle one. Y/n cut the red and blue wire. She touched the wires together until she heard the car start. She smiled to herself and lastly twisted the wires together.

She turned to Peter "Are you getting in or what?"

Peter looked around and then sighed "Fine, but I'm driving."

"What? No way, you don't even look old enough to drive." She crossed her arms.

"You have a concussion so I'm our best bet at not dying." He gave Y/n a sarcastic smile.

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes but got out of the driver's seat.

"You know if you keep rolling your eyes they are going to get stuck like that." She flicked him off and he laughed.

Y/n basically collapsed into the passengers seat. Peter closed his door and started the car. He pulled into the street and Y/n rested her head against the window. The cool glass felt nice against her forehead. She notice a bruise on Peter's pale cheek from when he got hit earlier.

Every now and again he would glance at Y/n to see how she was doing. He figured she must not feel the best because she hasn't said one witty remark since they got into the car.

He hoped by now the Avengers were back at the compound and could Tell them what's going on and who was following them.

He looked over to her again and she had her eyes close. He jabbed her with his elbow "Hey, don't fall sleep. You might not wake back up."

"Hmm Okay." She said but didn't budge.

"I'm serious Y/n, open your eyes." Peter was starting to get worried. It wasn't that he cared about her. But he didn't know what to do with a dead body. Or at least that's what he told himself.

"Don't get your panties into a bunch, my eyes are open."

They pulled into the road of the compound. When it came into view Y/n suddenly sat up wide eyed "Holy shit."

"What?" Peter took his eyes off of Y/n and followed her line of sight.

"What the fu-"

Part 4

Taglist

@fandom-strumpet • @ginger-swag-rapunzel • @libraries-and-coffee

[miss-nov]

Over-Emotional: Danny Phantom Oneshot.

Original idea by @amabsis on their post right here!!

[Originally written on a reblog of the prompt but it went all screwy and left an incomplete version so I made it it's own post and I've made a few grammar and spelling edits. Sorry for any confusion!!]

(This is the first thing I've ever written for the DP Phandom so I apologize if it's a little OOC)

⚠️(TW: DESCRIPTIONS OF A PANIC ATTACK AND GORE!!!!!)⚠️

  Danny drifted through the skies of Amity Park, following the streets which were slick with recent rain. The stars twinkled merrily above and the beams from the street lights seemed to buzz through the comforting, crisp air. Not a sound disrupted the mellow atmosphere and ghosts had appeared to leave tonight alone and retired to their lairs. A soothing night such as this would have been Danny's favorite; it would have been a much needed break from his overly stressful life.

  Yet Danny couldn't shake off the creeping apprehension even as he twisted in and out of alleyways back into the lit roads.

  His parents had been working tirelessly  on a project that they wouldn't tell him and Jazz about. Jack, their father, would always jump at the chance to describe what he was doing and couldn't keep his antics quiet for long. Maddie's, their mother, eyes would have brightened as she recounted the innovate idea she had conjured and the necessary calculations she could toy around with. These facts coupled with Jazz and Danny casually inquiring about their latest project would make them incredibly ecstatic.

  But whenever the two had asked about it, put off by the unusual quiet of the parents, had only been given an amused smile and an occasional wink.

  Tonight, before Danny's patrol and during dinner, Jazz had managed to weasel some information out of them. Though, it left more questions than answers.

  "So, you guys have been in the lab a lot recently," Jazz said conversationally. "Working on some new ghost stuff? It seems important if you're spending most of the day down there."

  Maddie had given her a deliberate look like someone who'd finally decided to take a second cookie.

  "It's our greatest invention yet," she said lowly and excitedly. "I think your dad and I have found the solution to our little ghost problem."

  The siblings gulped and tried to suppress their shudders.

  "It's not going to hurt them is it? Phantom and the other ghosts." Jazz's voice was even and didn't show a hint of a tone shift.

  "Surprisingly, no. No harm will be dealt to them. It's not like they can feel anyway. That's exactly the problem," Jack chimed excitedly before going back to his ectoplasm contaminated lasagna.

  "Besides, we wouldn't want to hurt the object of our daughter's affection.  We all know about your crush on Phantom," Maddie teased but then added with a small frown. "Though it's not healthy to have a crush on ghosts at all."

 Jazz gave an aggressive gagging noise and Danny was torn between hysterical laughter and a gag of his own. Dinner resumed as normal —well, as normal as you could get being a Fenton— and Danny took note of the fact his parents had refused to say anymore.

  Danny was busy going over and dissecting the conversation and lax in his attention to his surroundings by the inactivity that he didn't notice the two shadow-cloaked figures tailing him. The taller one with a broader build was holding an intimidating gun, that looked like it was straight out of an eighties sci-fi movie, on his back.

  Maybe I should head back, Danny thought to himself. I have so much homework due and a test tomorrow. A pop quiz in calculus and a lab in science. I have to meet Nathan at my study hall period and at lunch. Liz needs my help…

  On and on the list went as Danny subtlety started flying home. Just thinking of things that needed done was making him more anxious and tired.

  "Phantom, we'll have you now," Jack cried, his voice echoing in the hollow streets.

  Danny turned around, slightly aggravated when he was struck by a violet beam and plummeted, crashing to the sidewalk.

  "Jack! I told you to wait," Maddie chastised as they walked over to Danny who had barely sat up.

  His head swam and Maddie and Jack looked like the reflections of a carnival fun house mirror. Though his vision corrected itself quickly.

  "I think you might have given him a concussion. But that doesn't make sense, ghosts don't have brains," Maddie said, slightly confused. She reached out to gingerly place her fingertips on Danny's temple and he flinched.

  "Don't touch me!!" Danny had yelled louder then he meant to and his voice came out with an extra echo; like he had been about to use his ghostly wail. The three stilled before Danny began crawling backwards, keeping his eyes on Jack and Maddie at all times.

  "I don't wanna hurt you," Danny whimpered and tears sprang to eyes like a line of men ready to battle. Why the hell was he crying!? He didn't cry easy, at least not of late, and he'd been in these situations and worse without crying so why was he breaking down now??

  Maddie looked at him with wide eyes and her hand, which had still been suspended in shock, dropped to her belt and Danny panicked.

  "Don't hurt me!" Danny tried to pick himself up to fly, to get the hell out of dodge but when he went to stand his vision and black an —god why were his veins burning with adrenaline???

  Danny's chest was caving, that was the only explanation as his ribs seized and threatened to crush his lungs. His heart had left its place and sprinted from the back of his throat down to right beneath his collarbone before starting all over again. Has his hands always been this sweaty??? Tremors wracked through his limbs —he couldn't deal with this now!! He needed to finish his Hamlet essay, and review his history notes, and hadn't Liz asked him to buy popsicle sticks for their art project??? That's what he had forgotten!! He can't think of this now!! Maddie and Jack could easily catch him now —but oh, God was he screwed when —if— when he went to school the next day.

  "Phantom, you're having a panic attack," Maddie said calmly.

  "No, shit there, Sherlock." Danny bit his bottom lip to prevent another scathing comment from escaping. Usually he had better control of his mouth believe it or not. He put his head between his knees, closing his eyes and trying to focus on, well, nothing. He felt tears slip from his eyes and barely stopped himself from screaming.

  "You know what a panic attack is?" Jack titled his head as he scanned over his shaking form.

  "Jack did you put the settings up too high while we were following him?"

  "Of course not! I was very careful not to bounce anything out of place. You've Done the math, four times, it should be perfectly calibrated." Jack twisted the purple and silver metallic gun in his hands, giving it a thorough look over.

  "What the fuck are you two talking about!!" The scientists' head whipped back to see Danny's eyes glowing a tad brighter than before and his mouth transfixed into a snarl. Maddie slid a careful hand to her holster.

  "Our newest invention. Ghosts, well most of them, are just whispers of feelings that people once had. They can't actually feel and so they do bad things or... or they mimic human behaviors really well to make it seem like they do, like they're human." Maddie's voice trailed off at the end as if seeing if he would explode.

  Danny felt that normally he would have but he started to hyperventilate. How was he going to reverse it??? Was there even a way to do so or did they not include a reverse button by mistake (on purpose?) like they had mistakenly put the 'on' button inside the portal??

  "We're going to take you to the lab. Check your... concussion and to stabilize your mood. Run a few tests..."

Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodoh—

   They would strap him down and cut and lay his chest open like a butterfly steak and their hungry eyes would roam over him and their hands would devour him by pulling at his nerve endings and removing his organs and Danny would scream until his voice was hoarse and then some like a helpless lamb. Would he bleed blood or ectoplasm when they drained him? Would they take turns as he bleed out?? Or would they flow out together like some sort of demented, holiday dinner?? Or—

  "Phantom! You need to calm down." Maddie was at his side (when had she gotten there?) and was squeezing his hand. Danny briefly noted her eyes were filled with worry as her goggles hung at her neck. "Just breathe with me okay, please."

  "Breathe with her, buddy" Jack, who sat on the other side of Danny, whispered as he gently rubbed circles on the boy's lower back. "It's gonna be okay. We aren't going to hurt you."

  Danny wanted to say a smart aleck remark about them not having the same sentiment five minutes ago but instead focused on his breathing. He faced his head skyward and tried to count the stars. Nothing but him and the stars, no home— just the stars.

  Danny was reminded of the time he went stargazing with the rest of his family. A rare occasion as Maddie and Jack seemed to always be working. They had smiled so big at him as he pointed out constellations, awestruck. Jazz had nodded along as she listened attentively with a smile of her own. The night hadn't been more clear in months and more stars then usually were out. The picnic blanket they laid on was soft and him and Jazz had rested in between their parents and God they had been so happy then—

  Danny let out an involuntary sob. The melancholy seemed to come from the depths of his chest but at least it seemed to push out the panic.

  "Phantom," Maddie asked as she huddled closer to him. Phantom, not Danny. It hadn't really bothered him before; they didn't know it was him so why would they call him by his name?

  But it still made him cry harder. He wanted to tell them. He wanted to so, so bad.

  Jazz had urged him to tell them. But Danny had always been afraid. Scared that they wouldn't want him anymore.

  Now the sadness had overwhelmed the fear and the panic. He felt so isolated even when his parents were next to him, right there, trying to coax him into being calm. He had to tell them. He had to do it now because he wouldn't be this impulsive again.

  He felt the white rings gloss over him and heard Jack yell out "Phantom". When it was over he heard them gasp.

  "D-Danny," Maddie choked out.

   "I'm so sorry," Danny said through his tears. He chanted it over and over again as his parents reassured him that he had nothing to be sorry for and that they should apologize.

  The three sat there for quite some time, huddled close and crying together.

  Soon they would head home and take care of Danny's quickly healing concussion and reverse the effects of the gun. They would ask questions tomorrow after school but, for now, they tucked him into bed, something they hadn't done since he was eleven, and gave him their good night kisses on his temple before creeping to their room unaware of Jazz watching them from her bedroom door. She would text Sam and Tucker an explanation and ask them to give Danny the answers to the homework in the morning. She slipped into bed and fell asleep.

  The streets were barely slick with rain anymore. The stars twinkled merrily and the street lights buzzed. The crisp, cool air was calm and mellow. The night soothing and the Fentons were a family once again.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Soulmarks, Part 16

First part

Previous

~~~

Man, talking solely through text is really irritating when you’re running to go make sure your soulmate doesn’t ruin someone’s life.

Adrikins: Alya.

Timberly: Well why didn’t you just say that

Timberly: What was I supposed to do look up lady wifi in the phonebook

Adrien looked at his phone and rolled his eyes, then narrowly avoided running into a streetlamp.

Adrikins: Because you’ve only been in class for a day and Lady Wifi was the answer to the riddle. And stop being rude.

He sighed.

Timberly: Sorry I’m just a bit anxious about hurting her

Adrikins: *Hurting her for a second time.

Timberly: Shut up

Adrikins: Lol. And don’t be. She’ll be fine once the akuma is gone. We’re the ones who’re screwed.

Tim’s memories of the last akuma fight were pretty hazy. He vaguely remembered thinking that Marinette was capable and smart. It had been a good thing then... but now that they were about to fight her and she wasn’t going to be holding back to make sure they didn’t get too hurt.

Adrien was right. They were screwed.

They needed a plan, but…

Plans usually rely on information, and Inamovibi-Lady’s powers were mostly unknown. They knew for a fact that she had three items (the microphone, gavel, and yoyo), but there was nothing saying that they couldn’t mold them into other things.

Speaking of the microphone…

“Time for hearing number three!” The akuma’s voice echoed through the streets, and both of the heroes cringed.

He wanted a magical yoyo to swing through the streets. All he had were portals that he couldn’t even use because he needed them to get close to Inamovibi-Lady.

“I’m currently here with our favorite Ladyblogger, a good reporter for the most part… but!”

The apartment building finally came into view and he winced at the sight of a broken window. At least they knew which apartment to look into.

“Every good reporter needs their proof, don’t you think, Alya? And, god, do you ask for proof...”

“Marinette?”

“Inamovibi-Lady.”

Adrien sent a tiny wave and used his baton to vault through the window. The sound of the glass breaking was caught on the microphone, which was about as pleasant as you’d expect. Tim fought the urge to cover his ears as he started climbing a nearby drainpipe.

“Wow! I didn’t expect you to show up so soon, darling! You’re shockingly productive. Is Cheval coming?”

“Yep! He’s on his way up the wall right now.”

Tim winced. Really? He decides to speak and it’s only to sell him out?

Inamovibi-Lady laughed quietly. “C’mon, I know you’re a better partner than that, darling. Not able to work with him, huh? Too bad. I guess I can change up my order to give him more time…”

Oh. So Adrien was using their new curse against her. Nice.

“Cheval, darling, if you don’t get here in time I’m going to Master Fu’s next. He’s right where you dropped in from America the first time.”

“Wait, what did Master Fu do?” Asked Adrien, the frown evident in his voice.

Tim finally reached the window and slowly peeked his head over the sill. Adrien had moved to a spot that had Inamovibi-Lady facing away from the door, which Alya was slowly creeping towards.

The akuma giggled. “Like you don’t know. But for the rest of Paris, it’s a secret until his hearing… which I can’t get to until this one is over.”

Her microphone morphed into a yoyo and she tossed it over her shoulder at the door. Alya barely dodged it, but apparently that wasn’t what she was aiming for. The yoyo hooked around the doorknob and with a flick of her wrist the string cut through the brass like it was butter.

“There, with that temptation gone, let’s get back to the whole ‘you literally believed everything Lila said but apparently I need to give proof’ thing, yes?”

Adrien sighed. “Sorry about this, Nette, but… I can’t let you do this.”

The akuma tipped her head to the side as they seemed to consider this, before she shrugged and pulled her yoyo to her hand. “If you say so.”

The two ex-partners eyed each other warily. Adrien lengthened his baton and attempted to get a quick hit from a distance.

“Aw, scared, darling?” She teased as she ducked the blow.

He scoffed and ran at her.

Tim used the distraction to sneak through the room. He gave Alya a tiny smile and pressed a finger to his lips to tell her to stay quiet, then turned his attention to the knob and he cringed.

He grabbed a pencil off a nearby desk and started attempting to trigger the door mechanism. If worse came to worst, he could always break down the door, but he’d prefer to get Alya out without Inamovibi-Lady noticing.

He glanced back and winced.

Inamovibi-Lady had managed to hook her yoyo around Adrien’s baton, and now they were in an awkward game of tug-of-war. Their boots scuffed the wooden floors as they tried to pull the weapons out of their opponent’s grip.

The metal of the baton was, slowly but surely, crinkling. He winced and let go, sending both of them flying backwards.

Which would have been fine if Adrien hadn’t gone careening into Tim and Alya.

Inamovibi-Lady hit the opposite wall and her eyes narrowed in on the fact that Tim was attempting to open the door. He gave up on subtlety entirely and kicked the door down. He grabbed Alya and started making a run for it.

Man, why did akumas have to be so one-track minded? Now that she knew that her target was escaping, Inamovibi-Lady apparently couldn’t care less about Adrien chasing after her with a glorified stick.

And Tim? Tim had discovered that it was extremely hard to throw a boomerang, run, and carry a civilian all at the same time.

He knocked over things in the Césaire apartment as he ran around (he’d pay them back if he could later), desperate to put as much distance between himself and the akuma as he could, but she didn’t seem all that affected.

And then he came to a window. He pushed the curtain to the side and looked out over the streets. They were around five floors up… Fun. If he was alone it wouldn’t be much of a problem to jump out, but with Alya…

He cringed and set her down, pushing her behind him and bringing his hands up to fight.

Okay! Plan time!

He was just going to assume that she only had those three different weapon types. She probably would have used other things by now if she had the options.

The microphone was just a microphone…

The gavel seemed to be just for judgement…

So the only weapon she had really used was her yoyo. It was also the one she had the most practice with, which wasn’t great, but at least she didn’t really have any close-up attacks…

She stumbled out of the hall, Adrien on her back as he attempted to choke her out with his baton.

Oh, good. He’d noticed, too.

Tim looked around for a close-range weapon and pulled the curtain down. He brandished the curtain rod. It wasn’t quite his bo staff, but it would have to do.

She slammed back into a wall and Adrien hissed in pain, loosening his grip just enough for her to twist free. She grabbed her partner by the arm and threw him at Tim.

The two crashed to the ground in a tangle of limbs and two sticks of metal that jutted out at annoying angles. The akuma looked at the two and then threw the curtain over them to add to the confused scrambling.

“Right! No more interruptions, if those two know what’s good for them!” Said the akuma, and Tim could tell from the volume that she was using her microphone again.

That would be great if Adrien would just.. fucking... get off! He elbowed him in the face and mumbled a “sorry” before starting to try and untangle himself.

“You opted to believe everyone but me without proof, but why should we let that stand? It’s unfair! So, how about you ask everyone for proof about everything from now on? Sound good?”

“No!” Said Alya, and from the sound of it she was trying to run away.

Tim managed to pull his head out just in time to watch light envelop the girl. He shielded his eyes and looked away, using the time to grab the curtain rod again.

When he could finally look again, he found the akuma leaning over him with a hand out to help him out properly.

He narrowed his eyes in slight suspicion, looking for her weapon. He found her yoyo fastened to her waist. Okay, so it probably wasn’t some sort of ploy.

“Oh, did you get hit with some of Alya’s sentence?” She joked quietly.

He slowly took her hand. She wouldn’t hurt him too badly, she needed him to go after Joker and Harley…

But he couldn’t let that happen. As much as they deserved it, he didn’t want to chance Marinette feeling bad about it when she got deakumatized.

Inamovibi-Lady pulled him out, only for her eyes to widen as he brought his makeshift staff up to bean her over the head.

She had to fall back to avoid it and he used her momentum to tackle her, his hands grabbing at her waist until he’d managed to pull the yoyo from her.

He tossed it over at Adrien, who was just now managing to get out, and he stared at it confusedly for a second before he seemed to understand what was going on.

“Cataclysm!”

The ashes fell to the floor and the heroes breathed a sigh of relief.

Sure, they’d failed to save Alya, but at least Inamovibi-Lady’s reign of terror was over.

Tim grinned and helped the akuma to her feet. He pointed at her earring. She knew she lost, but even if she did try to fight back he figured she’d be pretty helpless without her weapon. He’d fought her in hand to hand before. He could beat her, especially if he had Adrien’s help.

Now, to get rid of the akuma...

They watched her touch her earring and start to pull a weird substance from it. After a few seconds she’d pooled a good amount into her hand. Their mouths fell open as she molded what she had into a new yoyo.

Adrien threw his hands up in frustration. “OKAY HOW IS THAT FAIR?”

Tim didn’t even have time to complain before the yoyo had wrapped around him and pulled him to her side.

“Gotham. The Batcave, if you can. Please?” She chirped.

Tim considered this for a few seconds. At least they had some allies over there…

Well, if they were actually in the Batcave and not on patrols. But there had to be at least one person, right?

He gave the akuma a tense smile and opened a portal underneath them.

She smiled and gave him a tiny pat on the head, then carefully pulled her yoyo off of him.

Dick looked up from the computer and his eyebrows scrunched together. “Uh… what happened to Nette?”

“Akumatized,” said Tim, giving him a glare. “You know, that thing I told you about?”

Was it Dick’s fault that he hadn’t believed him? No. Was Tim still bitter? Absolutely.

Adrien stepped through as well and the portal closed behind him.

“So we’re in Gotham,” he said with a set of sarcastic jazz hands. “Amazing. Now what? Do you have a plan that you just decided not to use in the months we were looking for him or what?”

“Actually, yes!” Said Inamovibi-Lady brightly. She pointed to Bruce, who was just pulling his cowl over his head to prepare for patrols in an hour. “I need your help, good sir!”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed slightly. “With what?”

She winked and twirled her yoyo until it was a microphone. She fiddled with it for a few seconds and then pressed a tiny button on the handle. Her voice carried through the streets in perfect English:

“Citizens of Gotham! Ignore this message! It’s not for you, I’m specifically talking to Joker right now. Put in your headphones or something.”

She hummed for a few seconds, then nodded.

“Great, now that it’s just you and me: Hi! Fuck you! You’re the absolute worst and I hope to destroy everything you’ve ever cared about! Starting with your favorite bat. I’m dropping him off of Gotham Cathedral in five hours, it’ll be great. Come meet me properly, you can even bring your girlfriend… I want to chat!”

~~~

Next part

And for my next trick I’m going to fail my econ test because I did this instead of studying :D

Taglist

@pawsitivelymiraculous @golden-promises @salty-fang @kitsunebell @sassakitty @octobitch @glastwime859 @miyla-lokidottir @onlyabatfan @ira-sairain @2confused-2doanything @ultimatetornshipper @ladybug-182 @laurcad123 @we-want-mini-mini @roguishredaxion @just-reblogs-by-h @futursworld @magic-miraculous @nathleigh @smolplantmum @vroomtaka  @emimar7 @toodaloo-kangaroo @charme-de-malchan @spicybelladonna @fusser90 @indecisive-mess-named-me @rosesgonerogue @celestialsiren @bluesimani @loysydark @trippingovermyfeet

[thegoodprincess]

Together We Are Apart, but Apart We Are Together | KTH Ch. 2

Author: thegoodprincess

Pairing: Kim Taehyung | Original Female Character

Genre: romance, fantasy, action, forbidden love, human KTH | angel of death OC, supernatural au

Word Count: 2.1k [series, ongoing]

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Mentions of violence [a stabbing occurs]

Summary: After admiring a handsome boy from afar, an Angel of Death reluctantly rescues him from his own demise. As a result of going against her better judgment she inadvertently invites him into her world.

(I recommend listening to this song while reading)

Together We are Apart, but Apart We Are Together

Chapter 2. Fate

“Fate has a funny way of intervening in people’s lives.” ― Katie Ashley

It was a few months later in the dead of winter when I was walking near the Han River. Due to the icy temperatures the river was partially frozen. The ground surrounding it was coated in a fresh blanket of snow that came down earlier in the day. A chilly breeze nipped at the tender flesh of my cheek, causing an involuntary shiver to rake down my spine.

Sighing out my condensed breath formed a cloud that mingled with the crisp air. I glanced up at the sky. Overhead the pale moon glowed bright, illuminating the night sky against the backdrop of countless glittery stars. Looking around I stood alone admiring the the way the shadows created by the city lights flitted across the pavement. It was quiet, not eerily so, but in a way that emphasized the bare stillness of wintertime. Most people were at home presumably getting ready to go to sleep as it was fairly late.

I was waiting for my next patron to arrive: a man who was going to be murdered during a robbery gone wrong. This was a common occurrence for me. I was one of many angels of death. I was not a malevolent force. I did not decide who lived and who died, and how the act itself was carried out. I simply collected the souls of the fallen and escorted them to the afterlife.

It was bittersweet condoling the newly deceased once they realized their predicament. I would allow them to say their last goodbyes to loved ones and others they deemed fit before they departed into the light. But it was harrowing having to witness death first hand and being strictly forbid from interfering.

I had seen countless people perish a variety of ways. I had seen it all from natural deaths having to do with diseases or natural processes like aging, to accidental deaths like car fatalities. Suicides and homicides were some of the worst. While death was inevitable, loss of life done by the hands of oneself or by another wasn’t. There always lied a choice, humans just choose to be masters of their own and sometimes other’s destinies.

While I was a creation of purity, I had been become well acquainted with grief. It was almost as if I was stuck in an endless cycle; each time the metaphorical wound was healed it was being habitually ripped open. In the grand scheme of things it was woefully the one major downside of the duty. Tonight would be no different. I would again begrudgingly be a bystander to yet another fateful demise.

As if on cue an older man adorn in designer clothing came into view, walking cautiously with shifting eyes assessing his surroundings. His shoulders were tensed and his pace was quick as he shuffled across the sidewalk. He looked genuinely frightened as if he was paranoid that someone was following him, and I guess he wasn’t wrong.

Then seemingly from the shadows a man wearing a black ski mask and gloves appeared from behind some foliage. He snuck up and roughly grabbed the older gentleman from behind with gloved hands, startling him.

The two men fought for a short while until the masked man managed to get his forearm around the older gentleman’s neck. He began to strangle him. However, I don’t think the masked man’s intent was to maliciously murder him. Rather he was meaning to strangle the older man to the point of him passing out. This would ensure that the masked man could steal his wallet without the risk of being followed and potentially caught.

But nevertheless, the masked man exerted lethal pressure for way longer than necessary to the elder’s neck. The older man’s knees began to buckle and his struggling became less erratic. Regardless of the older gentleman involuntarily becoming compliant, the masked man had yet to let up his hold on him. The older gentleman’s arms dangled limply at his sides. He was dying.

Just then a third party came into view. I was bewildered as I wasn’t expecting anyone else to show up. A young man with a bag slung over his shoulder was inching closer and closer, until his face came into view. He seemed vaguely familiar, the distance between us was making it hard to distinguish certain features.

Then almost instantly I recognized him. It was the boy whose face I had found to be bewitching. He was indelibly engrained into my memory. While I had stopped secretly hoping to catch a serendipitous glimpse of him when I was out, there hadn’t been a day that went by where I didn’t wonder what he was doing, who he was with, or if he even frequented the same places.

He still looked the same dressed smartly in a white turtleneck, tan trousers, wool trench coat, and tartan print scarf. It was apparent that the overcast winter weather had subtly lightened his complexion by a few shades. The only significant difference about him was his hair. His once dark locks had been dyed to a golden blonde hue. In addition to the new color, the parting of his hair now showcased his entire forehead.

Regardless of the butterflies that had erupted in my abdomen from seeing him again, the feeling dissipated all too soon as my stomach sunk. There had never been a greater time where I wished he hadn’t show up, especially considering the circumstances of this situation.

He wasn’t supposed to be here.

My veins ran cold, as if the very ice water of the river before us, coursed through them. Every hair on the back of my neck rose on end. I silently prayed he would turn around back in the direction he came from and not involved himself. But I was sorely mistaken. He stopped in his tracks, witnessing the killing of the elder. Swiftly dropping his bag, he ran over to help.

What ensued caused me to let out an audible gasp. The boy threw a hard punch and was able to stun the masked man momentarily, as the criminal fell to the ground. Assuming the masked man to be knocked out, the boy then attempted to help the older man who fell to his knees gasping for breath. Crouching down, the boy pulled out his phone to call for an ambulance. But his attempt was short lived.

Rising from his place on the ground a bit disoriented, the robber fumbled around in his front coat pocket and hastily pulled out a small pistol rashly pointing it at the pair with a quivering hand. The older gentleman cowered low behind the younger boy, almost as if he was using him as a shield. The boy’s arms immediately came up to surrender, remaining perfectly still. The gunman agitated at the boy’s heroics fixed his aim directly to the boy’s chest. He was purposely planning to deliver a fatal shot to his heart. All to quickly the gun shot’s sound reverberated off the concrete. I could only watch in horror.

In that moment the world seemed to turn upside down. My mind was reeling. I felt dizzy, bile crept up into my throat while all I felt was I was my heart slamming against my ribcage. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as the bullet exited the barrel of the gun. Naturally the boy screwed his eyes shut while he tensed his entire body, bracing himself for the inevitable impact. A second later he flinched backwards.

Shortly after the deafening crack of the bullet penetrated my eardrums, I squinted my eyes to check where the boy had been shot. To my relief the middle of his chest was still intact, but a bright red substance began to slowly spread from his shoulder region and seep down into the area where his heart lay beating. The gunman had indeed missed his intended target, and instead shot clean through the boy’s left shoulder. The boy’s facial expression twisted into a state of confusion, shocked at what had just occurred. I assumed the adrenaline numbed his senses, altering his frame of mind.

The older gentlemen looked like he wanted to help but he remained unmoving still afraid to come out from behind the boy. The gunman tried to shoot again but to some miracle his trigger jammed. Seeing this as an opportunity to escape, the older man quickly abandoned the boy, scurrying off without looking back. But the boy was too weak to follow, he remained holding his shoulder nearly doubled over. The pain was beginning to set in.

In an effort to make due with the boy, the gunman reached into his interior coat pocket to withdraw his hand holding an odd black object. It was revealed to be a switchblade when he subtlety flicked his wrist and the blade sprung out. Since the older man escaped on the boy’s behalf, the masked man felt it was only fair the boy be robbed instead. The boy assessing the situation held out one of his hands as if to plead for mercy. A pained grimace painted his pretty face.

Then I saw the boy’s lips begin to move. The two appeared to be exchanging words. I felt petrified, so I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Their voices came out distorted, sounding more like unintelligible mumbles than any actual language. It was as though they were talking underwater.

In a last ditch attempt to save himself from further harm, I saw the boy slowly reach into his back pocket with his good hand and pull out his wallet. He dangled the wallet in front him to show the criminal before he chucked it into the snow at the criminal’s feet, hoping this would satisfy the man.

The man hastily grabbed the wallet off the ground and excitedly opened it to reveal its contents. But his smile soon faltered, boiling anger brewing in his eyes instead.

Originally it seemed he didn’t intended to stab the boy after already shooting him in a fit of blind rage, the knife was just the extra assurance he needed to intimidate the boy into cooperating. But the boy stuck his nose in business that didn’t concern him and ultimately costed the masked man.

Not only did the boy escalate the situation and cause the victim he purposely targeted to get away, but the masked man wasted time and energy grappling with the boy which increased the likelihood of him being seen and or arrested by the authorities. He went through all that troublesome effort and for what? Some chump change he could have easily pickpocketed off someone on the subway. He was throughly pissed.

The criminal was going to teach the boy a lesson. Taking the measly amount of bills out, he hurled what remained of the wallet back into the snow. He stalked closer to the boy ready to attack with a sadistic smirk.

Slowly the boy began taking small steps backwards subconsciously putting distance between him and the impending danger. Unfortunately he was unknowingly inching closer to the water.

But all hell broke loose when the boy accidentally slipped on some dangerously slick ice that caused him to lose his balance. He then clumsily stumbled backwards and plunged into the frigid water of the river, breaking through the ice in the process.

The gunman realizing the gravity of the situation, almost instantly snapped out of his aggressive trance-like state and stood there with a blank expression. It was then that he began to visibly panic, nervously looking around to see if anyone else had witnessed what had just happened. He apprehensively neared the edge of the river and looked as though he was debating whether to help the boy or not. But he knew if he did, it would only further incriminate him.

Deciding to conceal his involvement in tonight’s events, he plucked the jammed gun and wallet from the snow and hurriedly planted the two respective items by the river’s edge.

The gunman made it appear as though the boy had committed suicide by first shooting himself and then falling into the river. He subsequently raked his feet sloppily over the snow in a back and forth motion to disguise his shoe prints. Once he was pleased enough with his work, he bolted off fleeing the scene.

Quickly wrenching myself from my deep stupor, I rushed over without taking a second to assess the severity of my actions and immediately jumped in to rescue the boy.

[chcrrysprite]

DIALOGUE PROMPTS - fluff #3: “i like your rainbow shoes”  for gwen and hayden requested by @retoxjusttodetox

summary: hayden’s been noticing some signs coming from the girl she has a crush on, so she makes sure to put out some of her own.

notes: i knew i was going to get some gwayden requests when i posted the list, and i’ll be happy to do more of them for the ones who want them :)) + and ofc thiam and other stuff as well :)

prompt list by @promptedintowriting

+++

Hayden’s problem isn’t that she doesn’t have any romantic experience. She does. She’s been a relationship before, so she’s been through all of the steps of one: the tentative eye contact from across the room, the awkward talking, the flirting, the titles, the sex, and eventually, the breakup, and she has a basic understanding of how teenage boys work, so she knows her way around. No, the issue isn’t that she doesn’t have any experience - she just has the wrong type of experience.

She’s not saying that her relationship with Liam was wrong or anything like that, but things with Liam were very...simple. Hayden has a good understanding on how to be in a relationship with a boy, since not a lot was expected out of her. Liam was happy with pretty much whatever she did when they were together, and it had been so, so easy to flirt with him. All she’d really had to do was look at him a couple of times and brush her fingers up and down his arm the right way, and she had him hooked. Liam liked clear, obvious signs, and he had no finesse at all to speak of when he’d been flirting with her, so everything was pretty straight forward and easy to navigate, but none of that is really helping her right now.

The thing about girls is that they’re complex, complicated, and intimidating in a way that Liam and the other boys Hayden’s liked in the past aren’t, and she has no experience at all with that level of difficulty. With a girl, Hayden can’t just bat her eyelashes a couple of times and expect it to work. That would either come off as being randomly friendly, concerning, or both. And how is she even supposed to figure out if a girl is straight? It’s not like she can just go up to someone and ask that. She’s never had to deal with that with boys before. Hayden’s new to this whole “liking girls” thing, and she’s way in over her head.

It’s especially bad now that she really likes a girl. Sure, there have been times that she’s looked at other girls and known that she felt something a little different for them, but when she looks at Gwen Masters, the girl who sits one row away from her in third-period English, her stomach flutters in a way that it hasn’t with any of the others. Gwen is quiet most of the time, but Hayden admires the way that she’s always up to answer the teacher’s questions and the wide grin on her face when she gets one right is possibly the cutest thing she’s ever seen. Hayden’s already almost been caught staring at her way too many times to count, and each time she ends up having to jerk her eyes back to the front of the class and pretend she isn’t looking, she feels her crush get a little bit worse. She’s definitely starting to understand the widely-known angst of falling for a straight girl.

Hayden’s pretty convinced for a few months that she’s going to go through her last two years of high school a dumb gay mess because of this girl who will never look at her any way that isn’t friendly - until one day, the guy who sits between the two of them doesn’t show up.

For the first few minutes of class, Hayden goes through the normal routine of getting out her homework from the night before and trying her hardest not to look at Gwen at all, but it’s hard. Her hair is pulled up into a ponytail with little pieces in the front hanging out to frame her face, oblivious to Hayden’s gaze as she gets her own stuff set up on her desk, and Hayden’s brain is sort of malfunctioning over it. She bites back a sigh and makes herself look away completely, eyes laser-focused on the lines of her notebook paper until the bell rings and their teacher starts to take attendance.

She doesn’t look back up again until Mrs. Anderson gets to the name of the guy who usually sits in the desk next to her and gets nothing but silence in response. Hayden glances over to the empty seat and notices Gwen doing the same, a lot more absent-mindedly than she is, and their eyes meet for just a split second. Hayden, the dumb gay mess, just barely manages not to completely jolt as she averts her eyes. 

After that, Hayden makes even more of an effort not to look at her at all, already feeling like she’s hit the obviousness-level for the day, but around forty-five minutes into the class period, she fails. The teacher has just stepped out to take a phone call and the class is quietly doing an independent assignment when she notices the sole of Gwen’s shoe out of the corner of her eye as the other girl idly swings her foot around under the desk.

It’s rainbow.

Hayden’s brain does that short-circuit thing again when she realizes this. She’s seen those shoes before - they’re a part of the Vans pride collection that was released not too long ago. She knows this because she’s spent way too much time debating with herself on whether or not she should buy them before she decided she shouldn’t with the abysmal state of her bank account. She knows this because she’s gay. 

Gwen’s wearing the pride shoes. The shoes from the specific pride collection. The shoes that everyone knows are for LGBT pride and probably wouldn’t buy if they’re straight. Is Gwen-? Does she-? I mean, she must-?

Hayden realizes that her brain really has completely left the building, because she surprises herself with the sound of her own voice, and by the time she hears it, it’s too late to stop it. “I, um-” She stutters, clearing her throat. Luckily - or unluckily, Hayden’s really not sure - Gwen seems to get that she’s talking to her and looks up with interest. “I like your rainbow shoes.”

She really wants to cringe at the way she said that, making herself sound like the nervous idiot that she usually isn’t, thank-you-very-much, but she stands her ground and makes herself meet Gwen’s eyes. She sees the second that what Hayden said registers in Gwen’s head. Gwen’s eyes do a weird sort of thing that goes in a specific order - recognition, surprise, and then hesitation - and Hayden can tell Gwen’s thinking the same thing as her: is she-?

It takes a second or two, but one corner of Gwen’s lips eventually turns up in a small smile and she nods. “Thanks,” She says, her voice light and slightly curious, and that curiosity is even more punctuated by the way her eyes linger on Hayden for just a little longer than they need to. 

As Hayden turns back to the front, heart jumping anxiously, she wonders if that might really be enough to know. It’s...probably not, if she’s being completely honest with herself, but she just managed to get a full sentence out of her own mouth and make Gwen smile, so she’s willing to try. Maybe the way girls flirt with each other requires a lot more effort and subtlety to pull off correctly, but now that she’s (albeit accidentally) taken the first step, it might not be too hard to try the next one. After all, if she’s subtle, that could mean there’s less of a risk of her screwing up.

So Hayden has a plan, a subtle plan, that she’s putting into play by the next day. 

Hayden gets into English class a little early so she’s one of the first ones there, gets out her homework as usual, and waits until Gwen walks in, buzzing with anticipation. She tries to be low-key about watching the door and seeing who’s coming in, but once Gwen finally makes her way into the classroom, Hayden can’t help but rush into action just a little.

When Gwen walks in and is still in the front of the classroom, Hayden makes a point of it to brush some of her hair over her shoulder, accidentally-on-purpose getting it out of the way to show the little rainbow that she has on one corner of her shirt. When Hayden had talked over this plan with Mason yesterday afternoon, he’d told her that she shouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t work since it was so simple, but Hayden can now safely say that Mason was wrong. Gwen’s eyes catch on her and then fall down to the rainbow almost immediately, and it just gets better from there.

Hayden watches with interest (and quite a bit of nerves) as Gwen completely ignores the assigned seating chart and sits down right next to her in the space that had been empty the day before. “Hey,” She says like it’s nothing, and Hayden manages to nod in response.

“Hey,” Hayden says, biting her lip. Gwen’s eyes fall back down to the rainbow again, that same smile starting to tug at her features.

“I like your rainbow shirt,” Gwen says, and there it is - the recognition in her eyes that Hayden had been looking for. It makes her smile despite herself, and Gwen follows it, widening her own. “So, I didn’t really get what was happening on last night’s homework assignment,” Gwen says, nudging her stolen desk just a little closer to Hayden’s. “Maybe you understood it better?”

Hayden knows immediately that Gwen not getting something on their English assignment is a flat-out lie, since Gwen gets everything in that class, but she sure as hell isn’t about to point that out. Instead, Hayden follows her lead, pushes her own desk closer, and starts to give Gwen the help she doesn’t need. As she points out some of the details, she can feel Gwen’s eyes on her, and her face goes pink every time, but it’s not out of nerves anymore. Maybe flirting with girls is a little harder than it had been with boys, but she thinks she’s doing pretty well, if the way Gwen’s steadily smiling at her.

[shimmeringclouds]

♔ | 𝐈𝐈𝐈

»»-----　♔　-----««

Chorosuke sighed deeply, pressing his forefinger and thumb against the bridge of his nose with his eyes screwed up in frustration. The knocking became more frequent and obnoxious the longer Chorosuke sat there, with you and Dayoko glancing at each other with unease.

"My apologies," he spoke through gritted teeth as he tried to keep his composure. "I'll have this issue sorted soon. Please, continue to eat." Nothing more was said as he swiftly got out is his seat and left the room, grabbing a rolled up newspaper from somewhere and rolling up his sleeve before closing the door behind him.

The silence was somewhat tense and awkward as you held your utensil up in midair. Did you really want to keep eating? A dark pit was forming in your stomach.

Clearing your throat, you looked over to Dayoko, who was chewing her food slower than before.

"Dayoko..?" You asked cautiously. She looked towards her, inclining her head. "Do you.. Do you know who's at the door?"

"D-Dayon!" Her smile was tense and shaky. She isn't too sure? Somehow, that made you feel worse. Even though you had never been to Akashika before now, you knew that the District as a whole was small. Everyone would know each other, right? That was what you had initially thought.

You decided to drop it, seeing as the girl was clearly just as uncomfortable as you were. The small voice in your head began filling you with doubt as you chewed on your food. Had you made a mistake coming here? Were they right, saying this was a dumb idea?

A loud thud from the hallway made you jump. Fear crept into your veins for a moment, only to hearing Chorosuke's annoyed tone.

"I am not giving you a meal! Not after the mess you made last time!"

"Huh? But you're rich! Just hire some maids or something to clean it up!"

The arrival of a second voice startled you. You spared a look at Dayoko, who's face and turned sour. So she did know who it was. Your curiosity was peaked.

It sounded... familiar, the voice in the hallway. Slightly more boyish than Chorosuke's, maybe a little too laid back. There was a teasing lilt that hung onto his words, although whether it was intentional or not was unclear to you.

"Choromatsu-niisan is hiding something!" A third voice called out. It was cheerful and loud, giddy and child-like, and a lot closer than the other two, sounding right outside the door. The door itself began rattling, sliding itself open. Dayoko appeared tense in her seat, glaring wearily at the doorway.

The door slid away to reveal... Chorosuke? Only it wasn't Chorosuke. Was it? Your brain was hurting from the confusion.

He had the face of Chorosuke, only his pupils was larger and his smile was more of a normal curve than a 'V'. His clothing was different, too; he wore a pale yellow polo-shirt with grey slacks, and he walked barefoot, not bothering to put on any house slippers. Your gaze landed on the paper bag in his hand, slightly crumpled from where he held it, with two large holes on the front. What was that for?

His own dark eyes bore into your own for a moment, though to you it felt like a long, drawn out time. It was like he was studying you carefully, even though his eyes were glued to your face. A small chill ran up your spine. Was it cold in here?

"Osomatsu-niisan!" He suddenly called out, making you jump again. You were glad you had settled your food onto the table earlier, or else it would have been thrown onto the floor by now. "There's a girl in here!"

"It's just Dayoko! As if this guy could pull a girl— OW!" 'Osomatsu' (a peculiar name, you thought) cried out in pain after a 'thwack' was heard. It seemed that Chorosuke had put the newspaper to good use.

"No, it's someone else! A different girl." The man glanced down at your chest briefly before looking back at your face. "She's pretty!" You flushed deeply, quickly covering your chest with your arms. Dayoko places her arms around you, her angered glare doing nothing to deter the man from leaving the room.

"Oh?" Osomatsu sounded much closer now. "Has she got a nice pair of tits?" Another 'thwack' followed by a pained whine. "I'm just kidding!"

"Stop terrorising my guest, you idiots!" Chorosuke hissed.

"We haven't done anything! Jeez, chill out, will ya? So uptight all the... time.."

The other man had stepped into the room, half of his body peeking through the doorway as he paused. Your gaze was drawn to his, locking onto his familiar large brown eyes, tracing the curve of his soft-looking face and over his slicked back dark hair, a few locks falling over his forehead. He wore a white dress shirt, with the tie and upper buttons loosened greatly and his over-coat draped over his shoulder.

His own eyes were looking you over, too, albeit with less subtlety. He followed the way your hair framed your face, the curve of your shoulder down to your chest, lingering there for a moment before going back up to your [e/c] orbs.

"Woah... WOAH!" His dazed mutter was overtaken by a yelp of surprise as he stumbled into the room, looking back with a glare at Chorosuke's outstretched arm. "What was that for?!"

"You were blocking the way," Chorosuke seethed, his glare burning into the man before he rushed over to you. "[Y/N]! I am so terribly sorry for these imbeciles! Had I known they were coming, I would have made sure to keep them away!"

"Why are you acting all high and mighty all of a sudden?" Osomatsu cut in, his brow raised incredulously. "You're even worse than we are, Chorofappyski!"

Chorosuke paled, freezing in place. His eyes looked devoid of life as he refused to move. It was beginning to concern you.

"Chorosuke..?" You waves a hand in front of his face, receiving no response.

"Dayon.." Dayoko stood up with a roll of her eyes, easily dragging her brother by the arm and laying him down in his previous seat, making sure his head was resting against the pillow.

"Don't mind him. It was the only way I could get him to shut up." Osomatsu sat down with a sigh, a cat-like grin crossing his lips as he studied you once more. "So. Do I get a name for that cute face?"

Your cheeks were set ablaze again. You averted your eyes down to your lap, fingers fidgeting with your clothing. You mumbled your name timidly, picking up the way he repeated it, each syllable rolling off of his tongue like honey.

"I'm Akashika Ozo! Always at your service," he winked, leaning closer to you. You furrowed your brows slightly in confusion.

"'Ozo'...? But, didn't he say your name was 'Osomatsu?'" You pointed out, glancing to the other yellow-shirt man to see that he was busy grabbing the food from Chorosuke's bowl.

"It's just a.. nickname he's come up with," Ozo answered quickly, looking away from you. The man in question raised his head towards you, smiling widely.

"I'm Jyushimatsu!" He laughed. You didn't know why he was laughing, but it was certainly contagious, causing you to smile back at him.

"Stop telling people that that's your name!" Chorosuke rose from the dead, pointing a finger accusingly at Jyushimatsu.

"Call me Jyushimatsu! It's way better!" Came the reply.

"His real name is Ogami Toshio," Chorosuke sighed, "He's the son of the mayor in Akatsuka Village. He's quite unpredictable, so I highly suggest you stay away from him," he whispered the last part to you, only to be pushed out of the way by Ozo. He settled comfortably next to you, grabbing a bowl for himself and ignoring Chorosuke's protests.

"This food looks great! Let's just eat already!" Quickly following Jyushimatsu, Ozo piled his bowl with various morsels of food before digging in, noisily chewing away at his food.

"Hey! Where's the beer?"

"You're not invited to this dinner!" Chorosuke cried, powerless to the two 'intruders' in his house.

»»-----　♔　-----««

[hotchslut]

believe it’s the fright

spencer reid/reader (strangers to enemies to lovers)

week one | week two | week three | week four | week five | week six | week seven | week eight | week nine | week ten

summary: though horribly unqualified, somehow (y/n) lands a gig interning for the bau department in quanitco. already nervous beyond belief about starting her new job, the first person she meets seems determined to make her time with the team a living hell.

a/n: because the internship period with the fbi is ten weeks, this is going to be a ten part fic with each part being a new week. i always wanted spencer to have a girl in his life who wouldn't kind of baby him like the rest of his friends do and also love the idea of opposites attract when it comes to such a specific character like him. i also think spencer can unknowingly be a bit of a dick sometimes and we never really talk about that, so here's to exploring that side of his person a bit more. this first chapter acts more as a prologue, introducing you to the characters and circumstances. next chapter will have more of the two interacting and working together. please enjoy!! <33

The goal was simple. Finish the 10 week internship at the Quantico division of the FBI without screwing everything up. Hopefully, she’d leave a positive enough impression to secure a job for herself immediately after. Realistically, she knew she would end up barely scraping by, but at least she’d have enough practical experience to write a believable award winning screenplay about the ins and outs of a special agents life.

She knew she wasn’t in the right field. She was basically just a film student. But after graduating from a school she hadn’t even left her hometown to attend, she was desperate for some real life experiences, and how many people could say they had worked with the FBI, even for just a little bit? Her electives in journalism and visual arts had been enough to meet the internship requirements, her GPA was undeniably impressive thanks to a fairly easy course load, and no one could argue that she was one hell of an interviewee. So there she was, all alone in a new state, walking into the biggest and most intimidating building she had ever stepped foot in, to start working an internship she wasn’t even sure how she booked. She had been told it was her passion which had gotten her there, but she couldn’t help but thinking about how painfully stupid the other applicants must have been to allow her to be in this position.

“What floor?”

As she stepped into the elevator she looked up to see a man, she assumed was only a little older than herself, with his fingers hovering over the buttons. She was shocked, or maybe annoyed - which definitely translated to jealous - that someone so young could have such a stable career already. He must just be another intern.

“Six, thank you,” she said, a little louder than she intended. The man pressed the button but looked at her with hesitance.

“Are you sure?” He asked, still waving his fingers near the buttons, as if he was waiting for her to correct herself so he could make sure she got to the correct floor.

Fuck. This is exactly what she had been worried about. She had checked her introductory email 3 times just on the walk from the front door to the elevator so she could be absolutely certain she was heading to the right floor. “Uh, yeah, I can check the email again,” her voice wandered off as she pulled out her phone to quadruple check. The elevator was going up quite quickly, like a ticking clock, as she scrolled to find the information she was looking for before they arrived. “Yeah, no, it’s the 6th floor.” she turned her phone for him to look at, but he didn’t, he just looked at her. There was nothing she hated more than a starer.

“My bad,” he said excruciatingly slowly. “I’m Spencer. I guess I’ve just never seen you around.”

Guess that meant he wasn’t an intern. Something about him was putting her off. She had hardly spoken a word to him and she could already feel his raging superiority complex. “Well, it’s my first day,” she explained as the elevator doors opened. He started to walk out, giving her a faint smile.

Spencer made his way over to his desk, briefly looking back at (y/n) to make sure she was out of ear shot. She was standing uncomfortably, looking at her phone, which he assumed she was using as a shield to mask that she had no idea what she was supposed to be doing.

“What’s with the new girl?” He asked JJ and Derek who were already seated.

JJ almost instantly perked up. “I didn’t know we were getting a new girl,” she confessed, looking over at (y/n), who was still in the same position.

“She’s a little underdressed for her first day, don’t you think?” Spencer judged. The three of them started examining her, with little to no subtlety.

(y/n) had been anxious about this. She spent three hours the night prior, trying to decide on an outfit that she thought would be appropriate. Everything she tried on either felt under or over dressed, but in the end she felt that comfort was the most important thing. Besides, in ten weeks time, no one was going to remember what she wore on her first day.

So there she stood, at the front of the bullpen terrified, in a black crewneck with a collared shirt underneath, french tucked into some black mom jeans and vans on her feet. She had absolutely no idea where to go. All she knew was she had to find Aaron Hotchner’s office, as she was supposed to be shadowing him for her time there. She quickly read and reread the email, trying to find any hint of where Hotchner’s office could be. She didn’t look up until she sensed someone walking straight towards her.

“You look a little lost,” Derek said, stopping in front of her.

A forced laugh was all she gave him, as she looked through her phone. She didn’t want to admit that she needed help already, but when he didn’t move, she brought her eyes back up. The first thing she saw wasn’t even Derek, it was Spencer, sitting at his desk, looking right at her. Why was this guy so weird? Did he send this other guy to check in on her? “I’m, uh, looking for Aaron Hotchner’s office,” she finally explained, turning to Derek for some unwanted but highly needed help.

“Just up there,” he explained, pointing to one of the only offices even in the room. His voice was soft, and she didn’t feel judged by him for not knowing anything. “I’m Derek.” He held out his hand, which (y/n) was happy to take.

“I’m (y/n),” she shook his hand with a genuine smile. “I like that you shake.” She wasn’t sure why she said that, and tried to fix it with a simple, “Thank you,” before nodding towards him and heading up to Hotchner’s office.

The door was closed, which left her feeling more uneasy than it should have. Didn’t he know she was coming? It would have been a lot less threatening if he had just left it open for her to peak her head in. Nothing about this experience had been exactly welcoming thus far.

After some hesitation, she finally knocked on the door. Definitely louder than she meant to. As she waited for someone to open the door, she could feel eyes on the back of her head. She wasn’t sure if it was because Spencer was actually still looking at her, or if it was just the feeling he left her with. He was like a spider in the distance that once you see, you can suddenly feel crawling all over you. Luckily these thoughts and feelings were interrupted when Hotch opened the door and ushered her in.

“Hello, (y/l/n), come in. Take a seat. I’m Aaron Hotchner, it’s great to have you with us,” he remarked, waiting for her to take a seat before he followed suit behind his desk. (y/n) thanked him quietly before he continued, “(y/l/n), I have-”

���I am so sorry to interrupt, but I kind of hate that, so can you just call me (y/n),” she pleaded, laughing slightly so he knew she wasn’t trying to be mean.

Hotch was taken aback, but politely obliged before explaining the role she would be taking on with the BAU. He was about halfway through speaking with her, when she realized she had not been processing any of the information she was being given. She couldn’t help it - she was a visual learner and Hotch was doing nothing to accommodate that. Not that she thought it was his fault, either.

“I know you passed all your training very well, but obviously you’re not cleared to be in the field, so when I do have to leave with the team, we’ll have you stay behind to work on the paperwork and be a resource to us here,” Hotch paused, noticing how overwhelmed she looked by all the information.

They maintained silent eye contact while (y/n) tried to process everything before piping up. “Can I have a gun?”

Hotch continued to look her in the eyes. Always the profiler, he was irritated that he couldn’t read if she was joking. Taking a risk in assuming she was, he wittily replied, “When you solve your first case.”

“Deal.” She smiled in return, as she noticed Hotch’s lips curl just slightly as well. She could tell he was going to be a tough one to completely break, but she was willing to accept that challenge.

“Now, unfortunately we don’t have any active cases for you to look through,” he began again before being interrupted by his phone beeping. He immediately looked down and sighed, “I stand corrected.”

(y/n) laughed, a genuine laugh before remarking, “I was literally just going to say, how funny would it be if that was a case coming in.”

Hotch didn’t react, he just grabbed his things and stood up, prompting (y/n) to do the same.

Everyone had gathered around the round table, with Garcia standing in front, ready to present the case, when Hotch and (y/n) walked in. “Everyone, this is (y/n) (y/l/n), she’ll be joining the team as an intern, she’s been assigned to shadow me,” Hotch introduced the girl who observed the room full of people. She quickly grew uncomfortable when she saw Spencer, giving her a quizzical look. Hotch continued to introduce everyone by name, but (y/n) was hardly listening. “And this is Doctor Spencer Reid,” he finished off.

“We’ve met,” she spat coldly, earning a head nod from the apparent doctor. She suddenly noticed there were only two remaining seats, one of which was next to Spencer. Before she could get moving, Hotch began walking over the other seat, across the table. She stepped forward, trying not to broadcast the reluctance she was feeling. As she moved to get comfortable she saw Spencer trying to give her a welcoming smile through her periferal, but her stubborn nature forced her not to acknowledge it.

“Alright, if everyone’s settled and comfortable, you won’t be for very long,” Garcia spoke with slight disgust of what she knew she was about to say, “Thomas Victor, 34, found dead in his girlfriend's kitchen.”

The team all leaned forward slightly as Garcia put up photos of the victim and crime scene. (y/n) was the only one smiling; she had never seen crime scene photos in real time before. Being a fan of horror and true crime, she found this to be almost fun. It wasn’t until she noticed Spencer noticing that she herself noticed, and had to remind herself this was, in fact, real, and probably not something to get too giddy over.

“Zoom in on the neck,” Derek instructed. Garcia followed, never turning to face the screen. “Look at that stab wound.” He was right - That stab wound to the neck was nasty… And oddly circular.

“What could’ve caused something like that?” JJ pondered out loud.

Garcia’s eyes lit up before remarking, “Aha. That we know. There was a bloody corkscrew on the ground. There was also a very nice bottle of red on the counter, so my guess is the unsub caught poor old Thomas preparing some wine for him and his lady and-” She shrugged, allowing the team to infer the rest.

“Where’s the girlfriend in all of this?” JJ asked.

“Nowhere to be found,” Garcia explained, scrunching up her face, as if she felt bad for not being able to help out any further.

Hotch sat up straight, asking, “Garcia, what more do we know about the victim?”

“Relatively low risk. Worked a 9-5 office job downtown. Rumour on the street is, he had just started seeing this girl, um, Melaney,” Garcia looked down at her notes, “Paulinchuck. Friends say they had been talking on an online dating site for just a couple days before meeting for the first time. Last night was supposed to be their 5th date.”

“You know, with online dating on the rise, so are the numbers of first dates resulting in violent crime,” Spencer chimed in, adjusting himself in his seat, “Just in the last five years alone, reports of abuse and even murder spiked drastically within the online dating community.” Just as (y/n) thought he was about to shut up, he kept going. “In fact, police in the UK are dealing with approximately 20 online dating related crimes a week. You hate to think about how bad it could be here in America, a statically more violent country.” He nodded to himself and sucked both of his lips in, waiting for a response from anyone.

“Very cool, Spencer,” (y/n) whispered sarcastically, hopefully not loud enough for everyone to hear.

JJ tried backing him up by adding, “So, there’s a fairly high chance this missing girlfriend is actually our unsub.”

The team started bouncing ideas off each other while Garcia kept spewing off potentially helpful information, but for the life of her (y/n) could not focus. She didn’t want to fuck up her first case by not being able to recall important information from this initial meeting, but if Spencer clicked his pen one more time…

“We’ve got a lot of digging to do on both the victim and his girlfriend. Wheels up in 30,” Hotch eventually announced. Everyone stood quite hastily, going to grab their things and head to the plane. Garcia stayed put, gathering all of her belongings, while Spencer seemed to be moving at the pace of an injured turtle. (y/n) just sat, relatively unsure of what she was to be doing. She knew she was to stay at the headquarters and process the paperwork from the case and be readily available to help the team in any way she could from her position, but there wasn’t exactly anything to work on until they actually arrived on the scene. Plus she didn’t even have a desk.

Not wanting to look like she was stalling from getting any work done, she decided to strike up a conversation with Spencer, who was still placing papers into his file. Without looking at him, she said, “You’re a little young to be a profiler, aren’t you?” When he didn’t immediately reply, she assumed it was because he heard it all the time and she was either boring him or accidentally offending him. Unfortunately, the curse of her anxiety forced her to continue, “I mean, I’m 22 and I’m only an intern, I can’t imagine having a whole ass career with the FBI already. And a doctorate, huh? How do you even find time to accomplish so much in so few years?”

Spencer had finished getting himself together while she rambled, and threw his satchel over his shoulder. “Well, I’m not 22, I’m 33,” was all he gave her in response.

(y/n) was taken aback. “Could’ve fooled me. You look 20.” She wasn’t sure if he would take that as an insult or a compliment, but she wasn’t quite sure which she meant it to be anyways.

“But I got my first doctorate at 17, so either way,” he trailed off.

His first doctorate. (y/n)’s blood boiled. The way he was basically standing over her and rubbing in her face just how smart he was. Not that he had actually done anything wrong, she knew he was just answering the questions she had initially asked, but she hated people who were smarter than her. More, she hated people who were smarter than her and weren’t shy about letting her know. Granted, she knew she wasn’t all that intelligent, so most people were significantly smarter anyways, but she couldn’t help the way she felt.

“I have to go. Good luck with your first case, intern. You’ll need it,” He spoke, emphasis on “you’ll” as if anyone else wouldn’t need the luck.

(y/n) watched him leave, like she was throwing daggers to the back of his head with her eyes. “He’ll grow on you,” Garcia smiled, about to leave the room herself, octopus mug in hand. (y/n) wanted so badly to retort with how certain she was that he wouldn’t, but refrained. She didn’t want to come across as a judgemental bitch on her first day. “I’m heading to my lair, so just holler if you need me!”

About an hour of scrolling her facebook and instagram feeds had passed, before (y/n) decided she should probably take some initiative and get some work done. The issue was, she still didn’t know exactly what it was she was supposed to do until she got some information from a profiler. It took some internal convincing, but eventually she walked out towards the hall, looking for Garcia’s office. She figured she might have some work she needed help with, and (y/n) was happy to help until she had a task of her own. She didn’t know where her office was, but it only took a few minutes of wandering around like a fool before she found it. The door was locked and needed a keycard to open which (y/n) clearly didn’t have yet, so she knocked. She didn’t know why she was so scared, she just didn’t want to get anything wrong. It was no secret she was going to be the dumbest one on the team, and she didn’t need another thing for Spencer to have against her.

Garcia must have been waiting, or, alternatively be a really fast runner, because the door opened almost immediately. “Yes, hello, how may I assist you padawan?”

“Um, I don’t really have anything to work on yet, so I thought maybe you could make use of me? I also, uh, don’t have, like, a desk, or space, to set up,” (y/n) laughed as if she was telling a joke, which she wasn’t, but the nerves were building up.

Garcia lit up, radiating enthusiasm. “Yes, yes of course,” she practically squealed, ushering (y/n) into her office and pulling up a chair. “We will get you to work right away, and I’ll set you up with a desk immediately after. But first, work.”

Suddenly any trace of anxiousness disappeared, and for the first time all day, (y/n) was completely absorbed with excitement. Maybe it was the motherly tone of Garcia’s voice, or maybe it was the assortment of figurines and toys surrounding her computers, but something about this dark room was comforting.

Garcia spent the next few hours with (y/n), showing her the basics of her program; the stuff anyone could pick up on. As she was explaining how to follow a phone’s GPS on the map, a phone rang, startling (y/n).

“Hellooooo, my big brained beauty, I am at your service,” Garcia quipped into her cell, as she put it on speaker for the two of them to hear.

“Two things. I need you to check Melaney’s employment history, go as far back as you can. I’m talking about high school jobs. I also have a hit on her new phone number since the one on file was out of service, so I need you to see if you can track it,” Spencer didn’t ask, he instructed, before reading off the number.

“Yes, yes, easy peasy lemon squeezy. (y/n), you got the phone?”

(y/n) didn’t speak, not wanting to converse with Spencer, she just nodded and got to work. She was still a little hesitant around the system, so she knew it would take a couple extra minutes.

Spencer didn’t speak for a moment either, but as (y/n) was coming to learn, that boy didn’t stay silent for long. “(y/n)’s there?” he questioned Garcia, as opposed to just speaking to (y/n) directly.

“Aren’t you going to say hi?” (y/n) teased.

“Aren’t you an intern? Shouldn’t you be bringing Garcia her coffee, not trying to intervene with the case the adults are working?” Spencer snapped. Though nothing in his tone would suggest it, she knew it had to be a joke. There was no way he was that mean.

(y/n) dug back almost immediately, “I’m not that kind of intern, dumbass.” She didn’t mean to call him that, it just came out. It was what she called all her friends when they were joking around, the only difference being Spencer was not her friend.

It felt like minutes passed before Garcia yelled, “Hit ya back!” and hung up the phone.

Four days had gone by, and (y/n) was loving her new job. She had finally had the chance to help out every member of the team, at least over the phone. Garcia had kept her promise and helped her pick out a desk. The catch being, there were only two available, so it was either across from Spencer or squished in with another team. Since Spencer was away, she didn’t exactly mind her new spot, but she also knew that would change the moment they had to spend a whole day just feet apart. Garcia was still insisting that the two would grow close, because according to her, no one ever disliked Spencer. But also according to Garcia, he was charming and had one of the kindest souls she had ever come across. Sure, she technically knew him much, much better than (y/n), but somehow she found those claims hard to believe.

The case had closed, and (y/n) was working on the last bit of her paperwork when she heard the team wandering into the bullpen.

“What are you doing there?” a shrill voice asked from behind her, and it didn’t take a genius to know it was Spencer trying to accuse her of something. He made his way to his side of the desk and took a seat, staring her in the eyes, waiting for a response.

“This is my desk, Spencie. I’m like a real team member now.” She grinned, gesturing to her space, which she had set up with a few personal items and had organized neatly.

He didn’t smile back, he just quietly mumbled, “Not really.”

Spencer didn’t try to continue the conversation, but (y/n) wasn’t done. Besides, she was dying to talk to someone who wasn’t Garcia. As lovely as the woman was, (y/n) found she appreciated her more in small doses. “So, is four days, like, average? Like, for solving cases?” she asked, genuinely curious as to what to expect in the future.

“2.367,” Spencer spoke, not looking up from the piece of paper in his hand.

“Okay, yeah,” she replied, with an influxion in her voice that told Spencer she had no idea what he was saying.

“That’s how many days it takes us on average to solve a case, from the time we get debriefed on the details here to the time we’re getting ready to board the jet back home.”

(y/n) dropped everything and leaned forward. She made sure to catch his eye before speaking, “I just love how you’re so specific about everything. All your statistics? Absolutely fascinating to me. Anyone else would’ve just said it was about 2 and a half days, but you… You’re clearly so much better than anyone else, because you give exacts. Super cool.”

Spencer subconsciously started playing with the pen on his desk, indicating he was getting upset, but beyond that, he kept his cool. He couldn’t let her win. Not that easy. “You don’t find it fascinating.”

“No, I find it weird. And annoying.”

Just when Spencer was about to completely rip into her, Hotch came down the stairs and interrupted. “That was a draining one, I want everyone to head home, get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he gave his farewell. Before heading to the elevator, he turned to (y/n). “Good work, (y/n), it’s great to have you on this team.”

She smiled and thanked him, making sure to throw in a joke in an attempt to crack him, before turning back to Spencer, who was already on his feet and raring to go. “Night, Spence,” she spoke while gathering her things up herself.

“Don’t call me that,” was all he said as he left the office. Something about the way he said it made (y/n) feel bad for the first time. All she was doing was wishing him well on his way out and he had to make her feel like shit over it. Over a nickname. She made a mental note that “Spence” was apparently crossing a line while she waited for the elevator that he was on to go down, so she didn’t have to leave the building with him.

[capesandshapes]

The Last Resort: Chapter Six (Adrienette)

Summary: After an akuma attack goes wrong, Adrien finally learns Ladybug’s secret identity and finds himself falling even deeper in love with his friend. He thinks he’s finally gotten lucky when she declares to him that she’s currently in the business of falling love with anyone but her previous crush… until that crush turns out to be him. Now Adrien has to somehow convince the girl of his dreams to fall back in love with him, while keeping his own identity a secret from her. Well, if there was one thing his father taught him, it was how to multitask. Chapter Summary:

Adrien Agreste: Master of Subtlety, Tact, and Timing  Marinette reacts to finding out that her not a date is a date, Alya points out an important detail, and the boys are roped into the world's worst field trip. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eons seemed to pass, but it was actually only a matter of seconds before Marinette responded, her body releasing hair in a low hiss. Slowly, she sat up, her eyes wide and her hands bunched into fists on her thighs as she looked to Adrien with a horrified expression. Her shoulders rose and fell with every slowing breath, and he could tell that her mind was racing through a thousand different scenarios to explain the statement. Finally, her eyes cast away from him, directing themselves to the floor as she decided to speak. 

“You don’t have to say that just because Alya told you I might think it’s a date, or that I might like you or something weird,” she said, obviously having settled on some sort of explanation. 

“I’m not.” 

With a sharp inhale, Marinette flew back into staring at him, her hands clenching visibly tighter. “Oh.” 

“Oh,” he echoed.  

“Um, I…” She began with a blink. “If I’d have known, I wouldn’t come dressed like this...Or maybe I would have tried a little bit harder to get to the movie-- Not that I didn’t try! I just… I would have, you know, been a bit better.” Taking in her previous statement, she cringed, leaning towards him a bit more before jumping into a new explanation. “That’s not what I mean; this isn’t how I meant it to go. I mean-- I, you, wow! That’s…” 

“No, it’s okay!” Adrien grimaced, “I should have been clearer. That’s on me, that’s…” He trailed off, shaking his head to himself. “Me, all me.” 

“Not you! No, um, me. My fault. I did this.” Marinette’s eyebrows knitted together, “I understand if you don’t want to-- I mean tonight is just-- I’m really sorry that I ruined things here.” 

He shook his head. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he admitted. “If you didn’t want to, we could just spend time together or you could leave, whatever you’re more comfortable with. I don’t want you to feel like you have to be a part of a date that you didn’t even technically agree to.” 

“I…” Her eyes drifted down to her hands and Adrien’s followed, noting how she gripped herself hard enough to turn the skin white. “I want this to be a date,” she mumbled, wringing her hands. 

His hands landed on top of hers, just the contact of his skin being enough to cause her grip to soften. Her eyes rose to meet his softened expression, coaxed by his reassuring squeeze. “Then it’s a date,” he whispered, eliciting a smile from the girl. 

“I’m on a date with Adrien Agreste,” she repeated, and though he knew it was more for her ears than him and he snorted. 

“You make spending time with me sound so much cooler than it really is.”  

“Because it’s not like every girl in Paris has fantasized about this exact moment,” Marinette replied, her face red as she attempted the joke. Seeing the overly proud look on his face, she added, “not me.” It was a clear lie. 

“Riiiiiiiiiiiight,” he struggled not to laugh and besides herself, she actually did. 

With that laugh, she allowed her fingers to loosen even more, Adrien’s filling the gaps where they were once knitted together. With a small tug, he pulled her up closer to him. She obliged him easily, throwing her legs over the side of the couch to slip into a sitting position beside him, the nerves still visible on her face. 

“I don’t think I’ve watched a minute of this movie,” she began, still looking at him rather than the screen. She sounded slightly nervous as she said it, like he’d be offended that she didn’t take in a second of a cheap horror movie in between all that had happened.  

“I don’t think I have either,” he reassured her, his fingers tightening around hers. “What do you think is going on?” He asked. 

She looked back at the screen, cocking her head as she did so. He couldn’t help but notice that she also shifted a bit closer. “I think… Maybe they’re coworkers?” Almost as if on cue, the couple on the screen began to kiss and Marinette’s face fell, “maybe not?” 

“They’re coworkers at the military base outside of town,” Adrien began to theorize, “and before all of this they didn’t like each other, but now?” 

“They’re the last two people alive,” Marinette shrugged. 

“And his lips have the cure to zombie bites,” Adien joked, earning him an eye roll. “It’s a b movie, don’t expect high-quality plots here.” 

The two spent the rest of the night hypothesizing, each trying to nail down the movie’s plot but never really getting close. Somehow his arm winded up around her, and her legs ended up in his lap. They both made no moves to acknowledge it, but they were acutely aware of it all. Every time she scooted closer, his heart soared. Every time he whispered dumb observations about the movie, one of her hands rose to cover the bottom of her face. And every time they looked at each other out of the corner of their eyes, they caught the other one looking. 

They’d both spend the night wanting more but never asking. Just their hands remaining intertwined the whole time was enough for then. 

 *****

“I could kill you,” Alya proclaimed, her body pacing across the length of the picnic blanket as Nino and Adrien looked on. “I could honestly just, right here and now, murder you with my bare hands.” 

“I think it went well--” 

“No, Nino. It did not go well, not as well as it should have gone,” Alya said, rolling her eyes. “Marinette didn’t even know she was on a date at first, and even though she agreed, Adrien ended up forgetting to do two of the most important things: kissing the girl and Getting. Another. Date.” Alya cringed, “you could have lived without doing both of them, but at least one of those two things needed to happen.” Her hand flew to her hair as she let out an exasperated sigh, “and now we’re stuck in limbo again.” 

“But he’s on her mind,” Nino responded with a wink, sticking his hand out to Adrien for a fist bump.  

“As a maybe,” Alya said. “As in, maybe this will happen again. Maybe in this life, I might have the slightest opportunity to go out on another date with Adrien. Maybe I didn’t screw things up completely, because if I definitely didn’t then some sort of sign that he liked me would have come flying out of the sky by now! But. It. Didn’t.” 

“She could have asked as well,” Adrien argued. “More than that, I didn’t want to kiss her if I wasn’t sure. Maybe she didn’t have as good of a time as I hope--” 

“She had a great time,” Alya groaned. “She had an absolutely amazing time,” she flourished her heart emoji covered phone screen to him for a mere moment to confirm this statement. “It’s all I’ve been hearing about for the past eight hours!” 

“Well, that’s good,” Nino interrupted. 

“She couldn’t even get out a word around you before,” Alya was not done with Adrien yet. “You really think that Marinette is going to stand up in front of you and ask you on a date? Please, with all that’s happened, the girl is freaking out. It would take an actual miracle for her to manage to do it.” 

“Marinette is a lot braver than you think,” Adrien mused, leaning back on his hands.  

“Oh, I know that Marinette’s brave. The problem with her isn’t bravery,” Alya grimaced, “it’s that she cares too much about everyone else. If anything, now she’s worried that she’s made you feel uncomfortable or done something wrong. More than that, might I remind you that Marinette isn’t the only one who was into you? And she’s hardly forgotten about Kagami’s feelings--” 

“Neither have I, and might I remind you that Kagami very clearly stated that while she enjoys my company, she knows a lost cause when she sees it.” 

“Congrats on being a lost cause, Sunshine--” 

“Well, I’m not proud of it; I’m just saying that Marinette knows--” 

“That you and that Kagami had a relationship that was very important to the both of you--” 

“--And that relationship was cherished but is now over--” 

“She wasn’t a part of that conversation, so imagine how she’s feeling!” Alya declared, and with another flourish, she showed Adrien a row of crying faces on her text screen, her hand moving away too quickly for him to read the messages beneath them. “She’s freaking out, even if she won’t admit it. Right now, in the back of her mind she’s going through a thousand reasons why she shouldn’t have even gone to your house last night.” 

“I asked her to be at my house, why would she think--” 

“Because you didn’t kiss her!” 

“I’ll do it next time!” 

“When is next time?” 

“Dudes,” Nino interrupted. “Honestly, love the back and forth, it’s really great and all, but-- Where’s. The. Food.” Having lost his patience with talking about Marinette, Nino focused on the facts at hand more than the speculations of his two friends. “You said this would be a picnic, Alya, so where’s the actual picnic part of this? You’ve been sitting by that basket all day and I’m really starting to think that it’s empty.” 

Adrien blinked, remembering the actual point of coming to the park in the first place. He looked to Alya as well, his mouth slightly agape just as Nino’s was. Alya had called the two of them out for a fun day at the park, but the fun part hasn’t exactly started before she began probing him for information about his date. Now that he was looking at Alya’s guilty face, his stomach began to sink. 

 “About that…” She raised her hands defensively, her face taking on a sheepish smile. “You two wouldn’t have agreed otherwise. And, well, Marinette would do it too...Plus, I’m not going to lie and say it isn’t fun.” 

“No,” Adrien was the first to reply. 

“Oh, come on! You aren’t the least bit curious?” 

“No,” he groaned once more, his hand slapping over his mouth as the realization hit him. Beside him, Nino stiffened, sporting the same blush that Adrien had begun to form.  

“It’s not today, is it?” Nino muttered. 

“Oh, it is,” Alya grumbled, “and after the very confusing events of last night, she’s asked me to sit here and watch. Of course, she didn’t outright say it was a date, but I can put two and two together.” 

 *****

In case you were wondering, there are a few things that you should not do when you are sickly in love. Adrien couldn’t list them all, there were probably twelve or more, but he was confident that one of the very first things not to do was this: 

Do not, absolutely do not, spy on the date of the person you love.  

Especially if you are not a part of it. 

Apparently, Marinette didn’t follow those rules though, much to his surprise. But still, out of the kindness of his heart, he diverted his eyes. It was hard, hearing the light laughter of his lady and persistent strumming of a guitar, but he knew that it was best for everyone if he didn’t look. So he fell onto his back, staring at the sky as Alya and Nino chattered beside him, trying to tune out visions of all too familiar smiles and softs touches, pretending that he was anywhere else in the world.  

The thing that bothered him most was, why couldn’t he get himself to leave? 

[shirtlesssammy]

9x05: Dog Dean Afternoon

Welcome to our last hellatus recap. This is one of our themed episodes and it’s not too late to guess what that is. You’ll win bragging rights forever! Anyway, our show is back tomorrow!

Then:

Obligatory Teddy Bear shot of how AbsUrD this show can be. Note to Show: Don’t highlight the absurdity of this show when you’re about to air a so-so episode. 

Now:

As a very dedicated taxidermist works on his Game of Thrones masterpieces, his very smart, very loyal German Shepherd, Colonel, alerts him to danger. They head through the halls of stuffed animals (but they’re all fake because who the fuck is stuffing these bears and shit? Also, a dog? Aren’t tigers endangered? WTF is all this?). Anyway, a man with a snake tongue attacks the taxidermist and Colonel sees it all. 

At the bunker, Sam’s got a case.

Once at the Taxidermy shop, they find it covered in red paint, and a little paw print symbol. Sam takes a picture.

Agents and Michaels and Deville enter the crime scene. And by crime, I mean all the dead animals. WTF? Like. WTF? Let’s assume all these animals died of natural causes, so we can pretend the victim was “a good egg.” Sam heads off to tour the place and Dean stops to interview Mr. Stevens. As Dean learns about “entrails” and such, Sam looks over the merch. 

Poor Dean Bean continues to have frightening reminders about why he’s a germaphobe. 

The boys are thinking witch, but decide to keep digging. 

At their motel, Sam discovers the “wiccan symbol” is really an animal right’s group symbol. (LOL, I totally don’t remember this episode and I’m totally NOT changing my caption from above.) 

Dean and Sam head to a vegan bakery where we learn that Dean knows the smell of Patchouli. Yeah, you might mask that with disdain for non-meat eaters, Dean, but we see you. They head to interrogate Olivia and Dylan, two founding members of S.N.A.R.T., the animal right’s group. They’re wearing sunglasses inside, so Dean thinks they’re douchebags. The brothers flash their badges. The couple sits down to talk about the victim. “You know how hunters are. They’re selfish dicks who define themselves by what they kill.” 

They explain that someone attacked them with pepper spray and that’s why they look like douchebags. 

Back at the motel, Sam further investigates the attack and the brothers surmise that they were attacked by venom.

At the local animal shelter, Brad gets a visit from Snake Man. Brad knows the guy and gets a $100 to let him walk into the kennel. The dude gathers ALL THE CATS and Brad wanders in to watch him EAT ONE. Yeah, we’re technically not on hate watch week anymore, BUT I STILL HATE THIS. 

Brad doesn’t last long. 

At the new crime scene, the brothers try to piece together the new information. Dean sees Colonel in a cage and ACCUSES HIM OF BEING A SUSPECT. GUH. Dean, just say you hate dogs and go home. Colonel doesn’t react to silver and Sam guesses they “can rule out killer.” Colonel starts barking. 

How would you like to come home with me and live in a nice big bunker and go for car rides all the time and eat liver sausages and help solve mysteries? 

Dean THE SMARTEST BEAN AROUND Winchester notices that Colonel is reacting to the local cop’s hat, so he tries it out. Bingo. Colonel was a witness to the crimes. 

Sam thinks there’s a way to communicate with the dog to find out what he’s seen. 

Kevin gets them a spell to talk with the dog. Dean agrees to drink the Mind Meld concoction because he doesn’t want Sam to take on more than healing from near death even if he doesn’t know if because he has an angel possessing him. Whew. 

The spell doesn’t seem to work (But it DID, so can I like get said spell? I’d really love to talk with my cat on the regular, lolz, I’m not crazy.) 

After eating lunch, Colonel sits up and asks for the channel to be changed. DUDE. It’s Foreigner. No one puts Foreigner in the corner. Dean’s on my side and has a nice argument with the dog while Sam watches confused. 

Dean gets to the point of the situation and asks about the cowboy hat. The killer wears a hat. WBK. As he throws away his food wrapping, Sam wants to know about the cats. Dean retrieves it like a good boy. (but seriously, German Shepherds ARE NOT RETRIEVERS. Good luck getting them to return anything!) 

Suddenly, there’s a noise outside and both Dean and Colonel head to the window to harass the mailman. Yep. 

Back at the motel, Sam tells Dean that side effects of mind melding with an animal can include developing animal urges. Suddenly I’m reminded of Dean’s fascination with the dog familiar from season eight and feel horribly uncomfortable. Dean angrily opens a chocolate bar, only for the dog to warn him off of it. No chocolate? This is an outrage!

Outside, a pigeon poops on Baby. “Hey, dick move, pigeon!” The bird returns anger with insult. “Screw you, asshat!” Apparently all animals have a universal language just sprinkled with insults! Dean shouts at the pigeon with all the subtlety of a very large human-shaped dog.

Sam manages to drag Dean into the car, but not before I make a diorama of this scene and place it on my Supernatural altar of Very Good Things. 

Dean and Sam argue over whether they should leave Colonel in the car. “You think we like that?” Dean asks, ROYALLY insulted. Hell, no. Colonel’s going in with them. In a moment where I curse my horrific prescience, Dean gives a lusty once-over to a nearby tied-up poodle. I…just…

Inside the shelter, Dean interrogates all the shelter animals. There’s only one dog who can give any good intel, and the dog only delivers in exchange for a belly rub. From Sam.

The dog gives them a tip: they’re looking for a cowboy hatted villain who works at a nearby restaurant. Dean lets all the animals free before they leave. “I didn’t peg you for a softy,” Colonel remarks. But WE all knew. Dean Bean <3

The Winchesters break into the restaurant that evening and discover a giant stash of prescription medications and…a cage of mice. The mice give Dean a tip: animal bits and pieces are stored neatly in the refrigerator. Sam finds a spell: with the right magic, ingesting a certain bit of animal helps the magician to temporarily gain that animal’s power. The guy’s mixing various animal parts to experiment on the effects and fun new powers he might develop. 

Dean and Sam encounter a chef and waiter preparing a private dinner (featuring shark fin) and shoo them out under the guise of health inspector. 

Chef Leo nibbled on a chameleon, which allows him to get the drop on Sam. 

He swipes at Sam’s throat. Gadreel flashes to life and heals Sam’s terrible throat slash. Leo witnesses this miraculous healing and decides that Sam’s the ultimate snak - I mean, meal. 

Leo sniffs out a dog, only to turn around and see…Dean. When the chef learns that Dog Dean and Angel Sam are brothers he is many levels of confused, but that doesn’t put him off his plans to chow down on Sam Fucking Winchester and his creamy angel filling. Dean, being a dog, immediately sniffs out some new information about Leo: he has cancer. Traditional treatments did nothing to help Leo, but his animal power worked. While his quest began sympathetically, murder is a side effect that Leo’s totally cool with as long as he can keep pushing the boundaries of man and beast. “Guess you eat enough predators, you start to become one.” 

The chef pulls out a wolf heart so he can tear Dean - a mere dog - into little kibble sized bits. Dean breaks free just in time and leads Leo on a merry chase outside. He looks oddly triumphant for being cornered by Leo in an alley, and whistles sharply. A pack of the stray dogs come running and tear Leo to bits. 

Dean races back to check on Sam and calls for Sam…or Zeke...to wake up. “Don’t make me lick your damn face,” he pleads dramatically. Sam snaps awake. Hooray! Happy ending!

We jump to the Colonel meeting the vegans from earlier. They wuv that cute widdle puppy wuppy! Dean regrets that they can’t take Colonel along with them but it’s no life for a dog! It’s vegan dog treats from here on out. 

The spell wears off just as Colonel tells Dean, “Dogs aren't really man's best friend. I know it sounds like a conspiracy theory, but the real reason we were put here was to…” He starts barking, and the spell’s done at last. I’m sure we’ll finally learn the truth about dogs in the final scene of season 15, right? RIGHT? 

At the car, Dean checks in with Sam. Sammy’s fine, but he’s a little weirded out by what Leo said about him - why did he want to know WHAT Sam was? Dean dissembles awkwardly and they take off for further adventures, played out to the credits by sad guilt violins.

These Quotes Have Fleas:

The slippery nipple shots at the Dolly Parton Dixie Stampede nearly killed the guy

Always knew I'd find the source of all evil at a vegan bakery

You know who wears sunglasses inside? Blind people. And douchebags

I need a Raquel Welch poster and a rock hammer

I’m getting extorted by a dog

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