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dreamwritesimagines · 4 years ago

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Twisted 30 - Epilogue [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Omg here it is my loves, the final chapter! ❤ Thank you so much for your wonderful support throughout the series, you made me so happy and I hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I did! ❤❤ I love you! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Mentions of sex and drinking.

Word Count: 4100

3 Years Later

The deep comfort of sleep surrounding you as you snuggled deeper into the covers slowly disappeared as you felt yourself being pulled back, a smile curling your lips. You heaved a sigh as you felt soft kisses on your neck, making you giggle.

Both of you had gone to sleep quite late thanks to your…late night activities, and you were nowhere near ready to face the day, but this was a nice way to wake up.

“Hi,” you said without opening your eyes and felt his breathy laugh warming your neck.

“Hi.”

You whined into your pillow as his arms tightened around you and he buried his face to the crook of your neck while you ran your fingertips over his arm.

“Don’t start what you can’t finish, professor.”

“Who says I can’t finish?” Spencer murmured into your skin and you opened your eyes to turn your head.

You were one hundred percent sure that you would never get tired of this view. Spencer’s hair was a mess, quite literally the meaning of bedhead while he watched you with a smile on his lips, his hazel eyes gleaming with mischief.

“I can think of two people who might disagree with you,” you said and as if on cue, you heard the pitter-patter of little feet along with some gleeful squeals echoing through the hall. Spencer let out a chuckle, dropping his head to your shoulder and you grinned.

“In three, two…”

“Mowning!”

“Open? Open?” you heard the sweet babbling overlapping with each other and you grabbed your dressing gown off the floor, then put it on and went to open the door but as soon as you did, a little figure wheezed past you to climb to the bed while the other one clutched to your leg, looking up at you with bright, shining eyes.

“Hi Daisy!” you cooed and bent down to pick her up while she held her plushie tightly and you turned to see Spencer lifting Laura in the air, making her let out a screech which turned into a giggle.

“Whoa, did you get bigger in a night?!” Spencer asked Laura who nodded fervently, babbling something with only a couple of words clear. You approached the bed to drop Daisy on the soft fluffy covers, making her laugh happily before she scrambled to give Spencer a big kiss on his cheek.

“Where did my kiss go?” you wondered out loud and in a second, you were attacked by two overly enthusiastic toddlers. You burst into laughter and pressed a kiss on top of their heads, then stood up again.

“Okay, who wants to come downstairs with me?”

“Me!” Laura jumped in bed while Daisy bit on the ear of her plushie before she shifted closer to Spencer, obviously still sleepy.

“Daisy?”

She shook her head and rubbed at her eye with her small fist, and Spencer reached out to push back a curl falling over her eyes as she yawned.

Your mother had a point, even if they looked almost identical, their personalities were way too different. Daisy was quite possibly the calmest toddler you had ever seen, she barely cried when she was focused on something, and especially when you put one of her picture books in front of her for her to color them. Spencer had said she most probably took after him.

But Laura? Laura definitely took after you, and your mother and Mina swore by it.

She was a tiny hurricane, completely unstoppable once she had decided to cause chaos. She had even started walking two months before Daisy, and you could barely take her eyes off of her without her sneaking off to somewhere to hide and “scare” you.

But even if they couldn’t be more different, there was one thing for sure. You loved both of them so much that it surprised you how full your heart felt whenever you looked at them.

“Alright then,” you hoisted Laura up, “Let’s go, little monkey!”

“Go!” she repeated, her voice full of excitement and you made your way downstairs, walking past Spencer’s study, then your study before you reached the huge living room with the open kitchen. You put Laura down, then opened the fridge.

“Okay Lulu, which one do we want today, milk or juice?” you asked but met with silence. You frowned, then closed the fridge door to look around, but she was nowhere to be found.

“I looked away for one second,” you muttered to yourself, then peeked your head around the doorframe to see the flash of a familiar mop of curly hair disappear into your study in full speed.

“No no, that’s mommy’s work, that’s mommy’s work!” you rushed to the study and lifted her up before she could touch the board, standing on her tiptoes. She let out a whine, still trying to reach the board and you shook your head.

“Nope, we are not messing up this seating chart, it took me days to complete it,” you said and turned around with her in your arms, then pointed at the two pieces of sample napkins on your table, “Want to help me?”

Laura nodded fervently, “Yes!”

“Which one is pretty?”

Laura looked at you, then looked at the napkins before she pointed at the one on the right.

“This.”

“Oh the pink one?”

“Pink one.” she repeated and looked up at you, “Good job!”

You let out a laugh,

“Yes baby, good job!” you said and walked out of your study with her, closing the door behind you just in case, then entered the kitchen again to find Spencer putting Daisy in her seat. Daisy gave you a big smile, letting you see her baby teeth and you blew her a kiss, then sat Laura down next to her.

“Was she in your study?” Spencer asked as he pulled you closer and you nodded.

“I’m telling you, she can teleport.”

“I doubt that’s the case,” he laughed, handing you a cup of coffee before sipping his own and you inhaled the scent of the coffee as you checked your e-mails.

“Oh babe, dinner tonight at my mom’s place,” you looked up from your phone, “You didn’t forget, right?”

Spencer shook his head, nuzzling into your neck. “Nope. At 8.”

You giggled, running your fingers through his curls, “You’re going to be late for work, professor.”

He heaved a sigh and nodded before he pulled back almost hesitantly and pointed at the twins with his thumb, “Do you want me to drop them off?”

“I got it, no worries.” You stood on your tiptoes to peck him on the lips, “Go. Don’t be late tonight!”

“Cross my heart,” he smiled at you before he kissed both Daisy and Laura, “Hey, you two behave for mommy, deal?”

“Hm?” Laura asked, blinking up at him as she grabbed Daisy’s toy from her and he let out a laugh before he grabbed his satchel.

“See you later!”

“Bye time!” Daisy waved her hand and Laura’s head shot up,

“Bye bye!”

“Okay,” you clapped your hands together as Spencer closed the door behind him, “We will have breakfast, then we will go and see grandma, how does that sound?”

***

The best part of having your own company was that you could pick and choose your own clients while letting the rest of the clients to the others. Especially after the twins, that had made things so much easier.

Your business was flourishing and you got to choose your working hours and the couples you wanted to work with.

“I know you guys said you wanted something small,” you said as you walked through the doors to the wedding venue, “But I wanted to make sure you know you have other options.”

There was no answer for a moment and you looked over your shoulder to look at the couple.

“Garcia?” you said and Luke let out a whistle.

“I mean it looks… it looks good.”

“It looks like something out of a fairytale.” Garcia whispered and turned to you, “But Y/N-“

“I know, you have a budget.” You snapped your fingers, “The thing is, the owner of the venue is a good friend of mine, so I’ll talk him into lowering the price a lot. Besides, he owes me one after I got him so many weddings.”

“Wait, are you serious?” Garcia stared at you, “We could have this venue?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I have four other venues to show you, but if you want this one after seeing those, yes. Oh and, before I forget—“ you grabbed your phone and tossed it to Luke, “How would you feel about this car for the wedding?”

He looked at the screen and blinked a couple of times. “You’re joking.”

“Not really.”

“Let me see,” she said and took a look at the screen, then turned to you, “Whose car is this?”

You shifted your weight, “Uh- mine.”

“No it’s not, your car is outside. I know that because Luke stood there and watched it for a whole minute.”

“Well,” you cleared your throat, “Nolan bought twins ponies the other day and I guess while he was at it, he decided to throw in a car for me. But I’m not much of a bright red car person, I prefer mine in black. So?”

“Penny?” Luke turned to Garcia, “Please?”

She held up her hands, “I don’t care about the car, I care about the venue.”

“Yes!” Luke pumped a fist in the air and turned to you, “You sure about this?”

“It’s just there in the garage man, I’m more than happy to let you drive it whenever you want.”

Luke pulled you into a tight hug, making you let out a laugh and he pulled back when his phone started ringing.

“Sorry, it’s Emily.”

“Oh tell her I said hi!” Garcia said and he pecked her on the lips, then answered the phone and walked out of the hall.

“I’ll never get tired of being right,” you motioned at her, “Told you.”

“I know, I know…” she let out a squeal, “This is so pretty though, Y/N! I mean I knew you were good at your job, I just didn’t know you were this good.”

You fixed your hair in an exaggerated smug manner and winked at her.

“Seating chart is ready too,” you said, “Laura almost crashed it today, but…”

Her smile widened, “Aw, how are my Lulu and Daze?” she asked, “You should’ve brought them with you!”

“Trust me, we wouldn’t get anything done,” you said with a laugh, “I can’t really focus on anything else while they’re around. And you know how they get when they see you.”

She pressed a hand on her chest, “I swear, you and Reid made the cutest babies I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

You grinned at her as Luke walked into the hall again, flipping the phone in his hand.

“There’s a case,” he said almost apologetically and Garcia nodded.

“Go, I’ll handle this.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah!” she said and kissed him, “I won’t decide on anything without you, I promise.”

“I fixed a pre cake tasting for you guys at this new pastry shop but she can try them first,” you told Luke and he let out a whine.

“You know, in times like these I get why Reid quit.”

“Right, because he quit over pastries,” you deadpanned and he heaved a sigh.

“I’ll see you two later.”

“Be careful!” Garcia called out and he nodded, then walked out of the hall. You threw an arm over Garcia’s shoulder, then turned to her,

“So, cake tasting?”

“God yes.”

***

You unbuckled your seatbelt as Spencer pulled over in front of your mother’s house, then turned to you to peck you on the lips.

“See, told you we could make it.”

“We’re half an hour late,” you giggled as you ran your fingertips over his stubble and he tilted his head.

“That’s not completely my fault.”

“Oh it isn’t?”

“You were the one who joined me in the shower,” he reminded you, and you shrugged your shoulders, playing coy.

“Still doesn’t make it my fault,” you stated, “And if my mother asks, you were—“

“Grading papers,” he finished your sentence for you and stole a kiss from you again, “Got it.”

You opened the car door, then got out of the car and climbed up the marble stairs with him until you reached the front door. You rang the doorbell and soon enough the maid opened it, the cheerful laughter and squealing reaching you. You and Spencer stepped in, and Daisy and Laura rushed to you as Spencer crouched down to hug them both.

“Finally!” your mother walked into the hallway as you pressed a kiss on top of Daisy and Laura’s heads, then straightened up to hug her, “You’re late honey!”

“Spencer was gradi—” you were cut off as Daisy came to hug your leg again, tugging at your sleeve, “Daze, baby-“

“Lulu!” she corrected you, pointing at herself and you let out a laugh, then hoisted her up.

“Aw, I’m sorry!” you said as you set her on your hip, and made your way to the dining room.

“Spencer was grading papers,” you told your mother as you entered the room and put Laura down, then she and Daisy ran to Lily who was sitting in their playground but as soon as she saw you, a smile warmed her face.

“Hi!”

“Hi there bug!”

“I’m teaching them animals, see!” she said as Daisy and Laura sat down and she opened the big book, pointing at a page.

“What is this?”

“Coo!”

“Cow, yes! What does the cow say?”

“Moo!” Daisy said before Laura could, looking up at Lily and she nodded.

“Exactly!”

“Good job!” Laura said quickly and Daisy nodded, clapping her hands together as if clapping herself. You could swear your heart melted and you smiled softly, keeping your eyes on them.

Soon enough, the dinner was ready and the nanny took the twins and Lily to the play room because they had already eaten and insisted they wanted to play there. Your mother had renovated the house around the time they were born so now they had a huge room filled with toys and games which the twins loved.

“So is everyone okay for Venice?” your mother asked as you sipped your wine, “It will be beautiful, we already made the arrangements.”

“Next month works for me,” you held up a hand, “Spencer?”

“Sure thing, it works for me too.”

“Kenz?” you asked and she bit on her lip, stealing a look at Mina and you tilted your head.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m good with next month,” Kenzie said quickly, “But um…”

“I might not be.” Mina said and your mother groaned.

“Mina, come on. Even you need a vacation.”

“It might not be the best idea at this time,” Mina said and you turned to Kenzie,

“What’s going on?”

“I’m not saying anything, it’s her news.”

“Mina?” Nolan said, “Is everything okay at work? Do you want me to make a call?”

“No no,” Mina shook her head, “It’s good- great, actually. I just didn’t want to tell you guys on the phone the other day, I was waiting for this dinner.”

You raised your brows and she entwined her fingers with Kenzie, shooting her an excited look.

“Two days ago, I was called into a meeting,” she said, “With Bradley and Paul. They…. They want me to be a partner.”

“Oh my God!” you covered your mouth, then pushed your chair back to rush to hug her. She hugged you back tight, a giddy laugh escaping from her lips.

“Honey!” your mother said, joining you “Finally!”

“You deserve it, Mina.” Nolan said, “Ditch the wine glasses everyone, we’re opening the champagne!”

“Congratulations!”

“You traitor, why didn’t you tell me?” you pointed at Kenzie who held up her hands,

“She bribed me.”

“She’s your wife!”

“Exactly, she knows what to bribe me with!” Kenzie exclaimed and you went to sit beside Spencer, still smiling as your mother took her seat as well.

“Did you know?” you turned to Spencer and he shrugged, grinning.

“I knew they were hiding something.”

Kenzie gasped, “Spencer!”

“I’m sorry Kenz but you have a terrible poker face.”

“He does have a point, babe.” Mina said as Kenzie pouted.

“Whatever.”

“So,” Spencer cleared his throat and turned to your mother and Nolan, “Speaking of people with terrible poker faces and something to say…”

You sat up straighter, “Wait, what is happening?”

“What is he talking about?”

“Spencer?”

“I’m not saying anything,” Spencer said, a look of mischief crossing his face, “They might, though.”

Your mother tilted her head, “When did you notice?”

“When I walked in.”

“Told you,” Nolan said, and your mother smiled slightly, pointing at Spencer.

“You, young man, are dangerous around announcements.”

“What is it with everyone betraying me tonight?” you asked, looking between them, “What’s going on?”

“So, Mina isn’t the only one who didn’t want to give big news over the phone,” your mother said as Nolan held her hand and squeezed it, and it dawned on you.

“Wait a minute…”

Your mother let out a laugh and held up her hand so that you could see the huge diamond ring on her finger, “We’re getting married!”

Instantly, there was an uproar. Spencer cheered while Kenzie let out a small scream, Mina lunged out of her seat to rush to them and you gawked at them, your jaw hanging.

“Jesus Christ,” you said as you made your way to your mother while one of the maids brought the champagne and your mother squealed like an excited girl and pulled you into a hug, making you laugh.

“Congratulations, you crazy kids,” you said as you pulled back “You deserve to be happy. And you-“ you pointed at Nolan, then smiled and hugged him, “The original deal still stands.”

“Wouldn’t dream of anything different,” he pressed a kiss into your hair and grabbed the champagne before he opened it with a loud pop, making everyone cheer. He quickly filled your glasses and you made your way to Spencer who wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer.

“I wanted to ask sooner,” Nolan announced, “But you know, you two got married, and then the twins…”

“We figured we would need to find a time you weren’t as busy,” your mother pointed at you, “To plan the wedding and all.”

You heaved a dramatic sigh, “Well unfortunately, my client list is-“

“Not full!”

“Lies!” Kenzie and Spencer said at the same time and you let out a laugh, then raised your glass slightly.

“I was going to say available,” you winked at them, “I’ll send you the plans tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” your mother asked and you grinned.

“I’ve been planning your wedding for the last three years,” you said, making her gasp and Nolan laugh, “You guys seriously didn’t think I’d let someone else do it, did you?”

***

By the time you got back home, the twins were way too sleepy. You and Spencer put them to bed as silently as possible, then you went to check the plans in your study while Spencer changed his clothes. You ran a hand through your hair and left your study to make your way to the living room before you put some music on and walked to the window to take a look outside.

The city was really beautiful at night.

“Thinking about the plans?” Spencer’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you looked over your shoulder, then a smile warmed your face.

“Something like that,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and standing on your tiptoes to kiss him, “You know it’s gonna be chaos, right? That wedding?”

“Oh, absolutely,” he said and caressed your hair, “You got this, though.”

“Do me a favor,” you said, “Remind me that a lot in the future, at least until we send them off to their honeymoon.”

He let out a small chuckle, but before he could say anything, you felt small footsteps coming closer and you looked around his arm to see Laura peeking around the doorframe with a look of excitement.

“We have a fugitive!” Spencer said, making her squeal and run back to the hallway.

“I’ll be right back,” Spencer pecked you on the lips, making you laugh and you watched him leave the living room, but out of the corner of your eye, you saw a mop of curly brown hair behind the couch, along with a giggle.

“Oh well, I’m sure Daisy is sleeping!” you said loudly, walking around the living room, “She wouldn’t be here, would she?”

The giggles got louder and you found yourself smiling,

“Or is she….here?” you checked behind the curtain, and put your hands on your hips, “Not behind the curtain. Hmm, I wonder where she is?”

“Hewe!” Daisy jumped from behind the kitchen, and let out a gleeful scream when you lifted her up.

“Here she is!” you said, “What are you doing up baby? It’s sleepy time.”

“Lulu hewe too!”

“And she’s going to sleep too,” you tickled her stomach to make her giggle.

“Mommy, love you!” she said and you could feel your heart skipping a beat before you smiled at her brightly.

“I love you too baby,” you kissed her cheek, “Now let’s go to bed, hm?”

“Mkay!” she said and rested her head on your shoulder as you made your way to their bedroom.

“Hey, I was wondering where she was,” Spencer whispered as you put Daisy to bed while Laura hugged her teddy bear tighter. You pressed a kiss on Daisy’s head, then went to Laura’s bed and kissed her head too.

“I love you,” you said, “Now sleepy time, okay?”

“Love you mommy!” they both said and Spencer turned their nightlights on before he switched the light off, and both of you left their room to go to the living room, where the music was still playing. Spencer went to kitchen to get two glasses of wine and you pulled the curtain a little to look outside.

“I swear they get more energetic every day.”

“It’s normal,” Spencer said, handing you your glass and you took a sip as he wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling to your neck. “You know your mom will make them flower girls, right?”

“You say that as if I don’t already have their dresses in mind.” You mused, making him chuckle.

“Of course you do.”

“I’m telling you, that trip to Venice will be a nice break from the future chaos,” you said, “That is if you are ready to listen to my ranting about the wedding venues on a holiday too. Are you sure you want to go there with me?”

A small smile pulled at his lips and after all this time, it still managed to make your stomach flip pleasantly,

“I’d go anywhere with you,” he said, “With or without you talking about what color the napkins will be.”

“I’m torn between ivory and pearl,” you told him “Knowing my mom, she will want to put seashell into those options and spend a month trying to decide.”

“Should be a fun month,” he said, “Do you want me to tell her the percentages of those shades used in weddings? It could help.”

You scoffed a laugh and turned around in his arms so that you could look up at him.

“What does it say about me if I said I find that incredibly romantic?”

He clicked his tongue, pretending to be deep in thought, “That you have a strange understanding of romance?”

“Maybe. But you still love me,” you tilted your head, “In fact, one could say…”

“That I have a lot of oxytocin for you,” he finished your sentence, making you giggle.

“Very romantic, professor,” you said, and heaved a sigh as his fingertips caressed over your neck.

“You know I’m so in love with you, right?” you asked him, making him smile and nod before you stood on your tiptoes and brushed your lips against his, wrapping your arms around his neck, the warmth spreading through you.

This, right here.

This was happiness.

The End.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #spencer #reid #spencer reid x you #twisted

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romeoandjulietyouwish · 2 years ago

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hiii <3 oh man i haven't sent an ask in a while (i've missed it) but that whole teacher au! i love it! Vex teaching elvish is so good! maybe she could also teach economics? It also immediately made me think of Abbot Elementary ,which I don't know if you've watched but I def recommend, it's a great workplace mockumentary about teachers in an elementary school and I really love it

And like, there are two characters who will def get together eventually and he def has a crush on her already, and right now you can see them getting closer to each other, and there was a scene in the most recent ep with him making a special knock on the wall cause their classrooms are adjacent and she realizes it's him and comes out to the hallway and they talk for a bit? I could def see Percy and Vex doing something like esp as you said they share a door (and I Love him pretending to run out of supplies so he can talk to her) And like, something they tackle a lot on the show and obviously happens a lot irl is how underfunded schools are and how they have to make do when stuff gets broken and they can't fix it right away cause Budget Issues and not having enough supplies etc... and it makes me think about Percy definitely helping out Vex, maybe fixing some stuff for her? And she in turn gets him some decorations for his classroom and makes sure he gets lunch and doesn't overwork himself too much? ohh and just. spending time grading papers together. oh man I love teacher aus Also. hmm. Allura either as the principal or as a more senior teacher there? (Kima could also be a more senior teacher there or something, and it's that thing where they don't tell anyone they're married but also don't hide it and one day one of them says it nonchalantly and vm are all like. :o) And maybe Tary comes as a sub when Scanlan takes a sabbatical eventually to spend more time with Kaylie (ohh maybe Kaylie confronts him at school for the first time?), and eventually stays with them permanently? Cause Vex and Tary and Percy besties is vital to every AU i think And maybe Gilmore teaches theatre? or does all the customes and stuff. or both oh this is making me think many thoughts and I haven't had AU thoughts for vm in a while so this got really long, oops

BROOO first of all I missed you, but second of alllll this is so amazing (and I love abbot elementary)

I truly have nothing to add holy shit this is all amazing!

#teacher au #critical role #vox machina #percahlia #lis makes hcs #or rather sharon makes hcs and lis cries

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luvspence · 4 years ago

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shared jackets

spencer reid x reader

synopsis: you may have forgotten your jacket (on purpose) and spencer lends you his

a/n: i have an obsession with things that say my name (it’s the narcissist in me) and i have an even BIGGER obsession with stuff that says my s/o’s name. so i saw this scene at it came to me. just babie spence in his little jacket AAA

master list!

you rubbed the back of your arms, braving the new york night in nothing but a t shirt

“we had to budget for the jackets and i always forget it in the car” you said while shaking your head

“well, i think they were a good investment. so people are actually aware i’m an fbi agent and not just some nerd with a gun” spencer replied

you laughed and looked at him

“seriously?”

“well no ones out right called me “nerd with gun” but one time we were giving the profile and someone asked me if i was the guy to fix the copy machine”

he said sticking his hands in his pockets

“god why would the copy machine guy need a gun”

he shrugged and laughed as you two continued to walk, the suvs still being a good distance

a breeze blew by and you shivered once again

“it is so cold”

“well yes, but the wind does not make it any better. it’s actually called the ‘wind chill factor’ and it refers to the rate of body heat lost due to the wind, which makes it feel colder than the actual air temperature”

you nodded and continued to rub the back of your arms to try and produce some heat

spencer watched at your hair blew over your face, and you laughed and picked the stray pieces out of the way, as it sticked annoyingly to your lip gloss.

he reached out his hand to move one last piece of hair that you missed, his cold hands gently passing over your lips and your cheek until the hair was blowing behind your head

you shuddered when his hand touched your face

“oh i’m sorry”

“oh no it’s okay! thank you actually, i’m just really really cold and your hands are very very cold”

spencer nodded, tugging on the fbi provided windbreaker he had on

eventually he pulled it off and stuck it in front of you

“here, this will keep you warm” he said with a smile

“then what’s gonna keep you warm?”

“well, w-ell i’m much taller than you! and well um heat rises so”

“i don’t think that’s how it works”

“it’s not, but given that i am taller i do carry more body weight meaning i produce more body heat. so i will be fine. but you seem to not be”

he said as he waved the jacket in front of you

“okay, thank you” you said as you put on the jacket

a couple sizes too big, spencer was right. he was tall. so the jacket hit your lower thigh, not to mention that “dr. spencer reid” was embroidered on the front

your hands didn’t even come out of the sleeves, they just awkwardly hung in the balance as you walked

“that’s infuriating” spencer said was a raised eyebrow

“what?”

“it looks better on you than it does on me”

you laughed “not even! you look great in this jacket come on, you look great in everything!”

you didn’t mean to say the last part, but it just kind of slipped

“i do?”

he said as he laughed and straightened the tie he was wearing

“yeah, you’re the only person i know who can pull off those button up short sleeve shirts”

he blushed “well t-thank you” he said was a tight closed mouth smile

and uncomfortable amount of time went past before spencer said

“you also l-look good un everything! i mean you look good always! uh regardless. yeah. y-you’re very pretty is what i’m g-getting at” he said basking in the awkwardness

“why thank you spencer that’s very kind of you” you said

you followed up “i think you’re very pretty too”

he just smiled and shoved his hands in his pockets as you finally reached the car

you got in the middle seat, smushed next to spencer and derek on the other side

you still had his jacket on, honestly forgetting it all together

spencer didn’t though, he spent most of the car ride nervously counting the days since he had washed it, and wondering if it smelt bad, and wondering if you would notice the curry stain on the inside or the hole in the pocket

while spencer was worrying, your eyes became heavier and heavier before you eventually fell asleep, leaning your head on spencer’s shoulder unconsciously

spencer didn’t move a muscle, just carefully sliding his hand over to move a piece of hair from your face, being careful not to wake you

he sat and stared at you, your eyes shut and your face perfectly rested on his arm

his day dreams of you borrowing his jacket and sleeping on his shoulder on a normal, non-platonic basis was interrupted by morgan

“kid”

“what?”

“this is getting sad to watch”

“what? and shh don’t wake up y/n”

he laughed

“oh i’m sorry you wanna keep your girlfriend all nice and comfy”

“shut up! she’s not my girlfriend. and what’s getting sad to watch now???”

he said as he looked down to insure you were still asleep

“you and y/n. y’all obviously got something, and you obviously are in LOVE with her, don’t think i don’t notice. the jacket she’s wearing says “dr. spencer reid” for a reason!”

“okay sure whatever maybe i enjoy her company and her laugh and her face and whatever okay just her! but, it’s not reciprocated. no way she totally just sees me as a colleague”

“you know what pretty boy, i’m gonna tell you something you don’t hear often. you’re wrong”

immediately after derek said that you opened your mouth, eyes still closed

“yeah you’re wrong spencer”

he looked at you in terror “you’re up?!”

“have been ever since you shushed morgan”

he laughed nervously

“so i’m wrong?” hes asked again

“yup, so wrong. i actually purposely left my jacket in here so i could wear yours” you said sighing into spencers shoulder “it just smells so good”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluffy #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer x y/n #mgg #mgg fic #mgg x fem!reader #mgg x y/n #mgg x reader

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thefanficmonster · 3 years ago

Text

Corpse Infested

Corpse Husband & Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Mentions of dysfunctional family, Family problems, Swearing

Genre: Humor, Comfort, Platonic fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When your friend disappears for a long time, seemingly having lost interest in what fueled the most passionate fire in their life, you cannot not worry about them. Even if you wanna give them space, you will reach out, you will offer your help. You will tell them they always have you to rely on and talk to.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! I’m really sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post your request, but here it finally is! Hope you come across it and if you do I hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

For me, it’s never hard to find things to do. I’ve constantly got things on my mind and tasks to tend to, keeping me occupied and my mind focused at all times. I think that comes with living in a home as dysfunctional as this one. I honestly can’t recall a time when my parents got along nor can I think of a time where there was at least one second of peace while the two are both present in the house. It’s always a warzone up there. I’m saying up there because I tend to live out of the basement of their home. I know living in your parents’ basement is considered a peak loser point, or the bottom of the bottom, but you’d have to believe me when I say - I wasn’t always like this. In fact, I only recently came back to this hell-hole and boy do I regret it. I mean, it was a decision forced upon me by circumstances. Trust me, I tried every other option there was. When my dorm was to be closed down and demolished, we were given a notice to start planning our next move about a month early. You can bet I immediately started looking at places but my very tragic and miserable budget didn’t allow such a purchase. No rent was adequate for me and my near-empty wallet so my second option was moving in with my best friend who was also not in the greatest of situations but I thought I’d give that a shot too.

Spoiler alert: it didn’t work out. She lived in a tiny apartment with her boyfriend and his best friend at the time, so four people in one apartment was a nightmare. Still a lesser nightmare than this one but a nightmare nonetheless. Some unwanted and downright traumatizing events chased me out of that place after barely managing to pack my stuff. Therefore, finding myself on the streets again, I had no other option other than the obvious and least liked one: moving back in with my parents.

Making money during my first year of college hasn’t been easy. Working two jobs at once and also streaming video games on the side was what my time was filled with all throughout the first semester but then this damn pandemic started and now ruined everything for me. I had things going for me, I was slowly getting my life together and now it has all fallen apart yet again. The places I worked at closed down due to quarantine and I haven’t been able to steam, not only cause I’d be the victim of my parents’ comments but also cause my terrible home life would be exposed to all my fans and viewers. It’s not like I could cancel out the commotion going on right above my head, it’s a livestream and this house’s walls are cardboard thin meaning all the arguing I hear almost 24/7 will serve as background noise for my streams.

I haven’t reached out to my friends or fans to inform them of this which I feel slightly guilty about but I’m really not looking forward to having to lie to them, just as much as I’m not looking forward to having to tell them the truth so instead I’ve picked silence which is probably either worrying them or driving them insane. Either way, I’ll make my comeback soon.

Well....not very soon by the looks of it...

I have to gather the money, then I have to find a place, then comes the packing, moving out of here, moving into the new place...oh God, there’s so much to it that I don’t even wanna think about. Just that thought that I’ll be inactive for that long makes my stomach turn. Streaming’s where I’ve been channeling all my negative emotions, turning them into something positive and entertaining with the help of my friends.

Speaking of my friends, I should probably put emphasis on how amazing they are. Basically the older siblings I’ve always wished I had. I’m the baby of the group, the eighteen year old freshman in college, powering through life the best they can cause they are constantly getting tripped up by inconvenient occurrences such as this one for example. I tend to have the gang poke fun at me quite frequently - all lighthearted and with good intentions obviously - but they are also the ones to get super defensive if anyone gets the balls to talk shit about me. They’d never allow me to be the victim of any smack talk or online rumors and ‘cancel culture’ or whatever the hell people will come up with to leave others restless and wondering if they did something shady a decade ago. Well, to be fair, I didn’t even know about the concept of social media a decade ago and I’ve never been one to post much but I still have a protection squad in case anyone decides to come after me.

Little do they know the people I need protecting from are the very people that are supposed to protect me - my parents. Luckily, they don’t venture into to basement very often if at all and I have my own exit to the outside world so I don’t have to run into them unless I absolutely have to. The only time I emerge to the surface of the house - aka the ground floor - I do so to leave my share of rent money on the dining table and I usually do it when they aren’t home or when they’re asleep - that happens often with how many bottles they each knock back on the daily.

*sigh*...at least I don’t have to talk to them, right?

Anyhow, remember how I mentioned I always have things to do? Well, right now I’ve tasked myself with rifling through the large boxes containing random stuff I found in one of the basements down here to see if there’s anything I could possibly sell online. For starters, I’d like to hope there aren’t any severed body parts in here because this was one shady-ass basement before I moved in and un-creeped it a bit so I wouldn’t have to become an insomniac due to the paranoia of there being a homeless person down here with me or some paranormal entity. Regardless, old basements tend to be, apart from haunted, also filled with junk no one would find valuable despite it actually being worth something after all. That’s basically what I’m hoping to find at the moment.

As I dig through the contents of the first box, the YouTube playlist I have put on on my phone cuts off causing me to furrow my brows in confusion for a second before my ringtone pierces the silence the lack of music created.

I quickly mute the ringing and take a look at the Caller ID to see a name I never thought would pop up on my screen as an incoming call - Corpse. I, as well as many of our friends, know that he’s not the biggest fan of talking to people on the phone so this is rather surprising. Still, I pick up the call in case it’s not a mistake and an odd chance that it’s somethin urgent cause Lord knows Corpse doesn’t call people willy-nilly.

Thank God it’s quiet up there at the moment.

“Hello?“ I try my best to cover up the confusion in my voice but I can only assume I didn’t do the best job considering Corpse replies with a slightly awkward chuckle.

“Surprised you, didn’t I?“ He asks, getting my cheeks to redden a bit, “You can’t blame a guy for calling after up and disappearing on him and on the whole internet. Where’ve you been?“

I open my mouth to respond when I hear the sound of glass breaking a shouted curse from upstairs.

Oh for fuck’s sake!

“Um...you know, places?“ I’m aware the answer isn’t only nonsensical but also sounds more like a question, but I can hardly focus on that right now. I’m too buys praying to an entity I don’t fully believe in for the situation above to not escalate.

“Uh, is everything ok over there? Where even are you right now?“ The teasing tone to his voice is all but gone at this point, replaced with deep concern, having obviously heard the commotion that did the exact opposite of what I prayed for - escalated.

“Y-yeah, it’s ok. It’s just another Thursday, you know.“ I attempt a small laugh but it’s blatantly miserable, “I moved back in with my parents when they announced the quarantine so that’s where I’m at now. They’re not the quietest of folks as you can tell so...“

“I FUCKING HATE YOU, YOU PIECE OF SHIT! I HOPE YOU DIE“

Oh crap, here we go.

“...So I can’t really stream a lot...or at all.“ I mutter, cringing with all my might, “But it’s only temporary! I’ll get back in the saddle as soon as I find another place to stay.“ I don’t dare mention how long that’s gonna take me, it’ll be too disappointing and depressing for the both of us. “So yeah...um...thanks for showing concern but there’s really nothing to worry about. I’m ok, everything’s ok, things are just...a bit off the rails, but I’ll fix em no problem. Like I always do!“ I attempt to sound as cheerful as possible with little success due to the overwhelming anger I feel towards those people upstairs and the gut-wrenching nostalgia for the world of streaming I can no longer be a part of because of them. Actually, I put the blame first on the pandemic and second on my parents - if it wasn’t for Covid I’d probably still be in my dorm!

“Hey...um, I think I know an affordable place where you can take up residence. Only if you want to, of course.“ He sounds hesitant but I easily overlook that as excitement bursts throughout my entire being at the sound if an escape being offered to me just like that. Had I known I’d find the solution to my problem in the very people I spent time avoiding because I was afraid of their pity, sympathy and judgement.

“Oh please, it could be a rat and roach infested shoe box and I’d go running to it. How much is rent?“ I ask through a gasp of hurried laughter that’s a result of my inability to contain said excitement. Listen, I’ve been sitting here in Hellsburg for three months now and haven’t gotten a proper shuteye during that whole period, whatever Corpse is offering has to be better than this misery.

“Rent can be discussed once you move in...“ He trails off, “And it’s not rat nor roach infested but there’s a slight issue...“

“Which is?“ I’m honestly expecting the worst: in a bad neighborhood; faulty wiring with a high chance of being electrocuted; faulty piping with a high chance of flooding; people have died there; things get randomly moved around in the middle of the night etc. However, I don’t voice any of them to avoid getting laughed at for my wild imagination.

“Well, uh, it’s corpse infested.“ He says a little awkwardly, causing me to let out an inaudible sigh.

So my ‘people have died there’ guess was on point, huh?

“People have died there, huh? Well, I can turn a blind eye to that as long as I don’t find their bodies in the closet or meet their spirits at 3AM.“ I attempt to joke, now second-guessing my eagerness to accept the offer.

Corpse bursts out laughing his ass off at my statement, getting me to furrow my eyebrows in confusion and wonder what I said was so funny - it was a poor attempt at a joke, it in no way deserves that sort of reaction, barely a chuckle in my opinion.

“You’re golden, Y/N, I swear.“ He says once he forces the laughter to subside, “I meant corpse infested as in Corpse Husband infested.“ He breaks out in another fit as my brain slowly starts connecting the dots.

Oooohh he’s asking me to go live with him

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait, hold up for a sec. Are you aware of what you’re offering me? I mean, we’ve never met IRL, you barely know me and....and for all you know I could be the serial killer in this situation!“ I have no idea why I’m pushing my luck, don’t ask. I just don’t want him to make a decision he’ll later regret, I guess. “Like, I could kill you in your sleep!“

“Would you?“ He asks confidently, silently stating he already knows the answer.

I roll my eyes, “Of course not! But...” He cuts me off.

“Great, the offer stands on my end. I’m not a noisy nor nosey roommate so I suggest you start packing. If you choose to live in that hell-hole over living with me, I’m sorry but I’ll be hella offended, just so you know.“

Corpse sounds like he’s about to hang up on me, a decision already made, so I hurry to stop him. “Wait! What about rent?”

“Fuck the rent, pack your bags.“ And just like that, despite my efforts, he hangs up on me.

Well...this is a chance of a lifetime that I know refusing would lead me to not only remain stuck here but also put me in the hugest loser bin. There’s also the fear of being Corpse’s burden which I’ll try my best not to be - I mean, I’m a super independent person and Lord knows that if this offer came any other time or from any other person, I would’ve declined asap, no discussion.

But streaming

But sleeping properly

But having a normal life again

Yeah those are most certainly the reasons I get up and go into the closet in search on my emptied suitcase. Time to fill it up again, I guess. This time with a smile on my face and excitement fueling each and every movement of mine.

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cloud9in · 3 years ago

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You’re the only one who’s writing poppy x mc fics sooo, i have a request “ bea is a bad girl (like in a gang) in high school and also went jail couple of times for getting in trouble in high school senior year poppy was new transfer student and after 2 months bea join back school and met poppy bea and they just click yk like a connection slowly they started dating and in school everyone was shocked to see bea in a relationship ( bad girl and new girl) poppy is always worried about bea and few days before graduation bea got hurt really bad and poppy gives bea 2 options that she has to choose between her or her this (gang).. bea didn’t say anything to her so poppy left, after 2/3 years they met in college bea was a different person but so does poppy they become enemies (no one knows why they hate each other) one day they were arguing and poppy shout at her and says why you're back and bea put her hand on her cheek and smile and say i am here to win you back because i love you 😬

Promises (Poppy x MC)

Part 1/?

Can i just say I'm absolutely invested in this plot? You've got me hooked on my own story, as hectic as my life is, this is enjoyable to write. I hope you like it as well @iamsimpforpoppy

Word count: 1.8k (i got carried away)

“You know what to do Jackson, same old shit.”

“Yeah but it feels like a movie every damn time”, Bea responds confidently as she unbuckles her seatbelt. She sports a black mask with a yellow bandana, a vivacious color worn by only the Southside Spades, a notorious street gang who were known for robbery, and occasional blood.

Bea found herself wrapped up in the world of gangs when she turned sixteen. But before that the brunette would assist in transporting goods, also known as hardcore drugs. There was plenty enough to go around so Bea could indulge in any she wanted. Drugs didn’t give her the high she craved though, instead it was the thrilling game of cat and mouse with the cops.

Every now and then she’d get thrown in the slammer overnight. But this particular evening earns her one year in the NY State Penitentiary. See, the cops never gathered significant evidence to build a case against her, even though she was well aware of Detective Steinhelm who had some sick obsession with her. Following her everywhere, until Bea confronted her directly after noticing the same black sedan parked a street down from her house.

But she played the game right, and nothing ever led back to her. Until now.

“Where’s the money Bradley? I feel like I’ve been kissing your ass all week, the boss needs it now.”

A skinny blonde boy who looks like he had better days grunts in annoyance, “You’ll get your money...I’m just a little short right now.”

“Time’s up Ken doll, you know Carter will have your head for this.”

“Maybe he doesn’t have to know. Maybe this can be between us…”, Bradley strides carefully towards the blonde, a disturbing grin on his face which screams junkie. “Back the hell up now.”

Bea pulled her knife out with ease and pointed it towards him. She didn’t plan on actually using it. Murder was way out her budget for a simple money pickup but she knew that it would scare the boy easily. Except he kicked the blade out of her hold which prompted it to screech across the concrete before coming to a stop. Before Bea could think her fists reacted as she intercepted a punch that aimed straight for her jaw. She twists Bradley’s arm and he falls on his knees in pain. With his back to her, she kicks him down until he’s flat on his stomach.

“What is it exactly that you plan on doing now Bradley?” The blonde boy struggles under Bea’s foot but manages to reach around and slash at her ankle with a surprise shiv. Bea yelps in pain before kicking his head, rendering him unconscious.

“Stupid idiot. Had to make this harder than it should’ve been.”

Bea eventually finds the stash of money hidden under his mattress, an amateur hiding place at best. She congratulated herself for another job accomplished (kinda) and headed home. What the seventeen year old didn’t expect was the repulsive sound of a siren filling her ears as she stepped out onto her driveway. Her blood rushed to her head when she spotted Detective Steinhelm among the police officers surrounding her and retorts, “oh come on. I thought I told them about you harassing me. What do you want? Back here to strip search me again?”

The older woman only watches the blonde in eerie silence before smiling and gesturing to a police officer. “Beatriz Jackson you have the right to remain silent, anything you say or do can be used against you in a court of law-”

“What the actual fuck!” Bea yanks her arms out of the officers reach which initiates a struggle for dominance. This was nothing new to her, but it still felt sickening. Like she was some pet.

“You have the right to have a lawyer present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you if you so desire.” Detective Steinhelm finishes speaking and approaches the still scuffling blonde, “if you keep resisting I will tase you myself.”

Bea bites back the urge to headbutt the old hag right in her stupid face but she didn’t need any extra charges, for whatever the hell it was she was being charged for.

“Tell me why the fuck I am being arrested and I’ll calm down.”

That’s when Bea notices a familiar (bruised up) face from earlier. His smirk was enough to eat at her skin and she felt burning hot rage.

“Your blood was found at the scene of Mr. Denbroughs assault. You are being arrested in the case of second degree assault with intent to hurt someone with a deadly weapon.”

***

Bea only got one year in prison due to her kickass lawyer Ina Kingsley who played the minor card at every opportunity given. She also pointed out the fact that the knife wasn’t bloodstained, and Bradley never had any stab wounds so there is no proof the weapon was ever used against him. And it technically wasn’t. Good thing she didn’t bring a gun instead.

She did miss her 18th birthday though. And a few months of her senior year. But that’s what summer classes were for right?

All eyes were on the blonde when she returned, and whispers spread throughout the school about a certain new girl. Bea paid no mind to the fingers that pointed in her direction but the newcomer did manage to catch her attention, and pretty quick at that.

“Hey Jackson, how was solitary confinement?”

“I heard they make you use the bathroom right through the tiny food slot.”

Bea rolls her eyes and pelts a piece of not-so-fresh bread right at Ford’s head. The other people at the table join in on the laughter and Bea shakes her head and smiles, “it was Juvie you dumbass, and they made us sit in a circle together every Thursday like we were in an AA meeting.

“That’s jail for babies, goldilocks here wouldn’t last a minute in a real prison”, Carter joins them at the table with a cocky smirk, yet his eyes soften when landing on Bea. She shares a similar look with him knowing they’ll have a real conversation later. Because they definitely didn’t get to have that when Bea was getting dragged away to the police station in cuffs, and every event after that.

“It’s our girl’s first day out, we have to celebrate. And it’s not like she’s on probation...right Bea?”

“I do have a curfew, and I’m on juvenile probation so…when we partying?” The crew laughs as Bea shrugs. Her mother will deal with it. Zoey scoots in next to the blonde and wraps her arm around her shoulder in a side hug. “So glad to have you back Bea, and we are not risking you breaking parole so let’s just go to a sport’s bar tonight.”

Bea nods her head in agreement as the first warning bell goes off and everyone starts to clean up. Zoey taps on her arm and points towards one of the farther tables where a lone figure sits, wiping her hands with a napkin. All Bea saw were blonde tresses until she turned and they made brief eye contact.

“She’s the new girl, Poppy Min Sinclair. Rumor is she’s got a rich white daddy. You should totally invite her to the party.”

“And why would I do that?”

Zoey squints her eyes and leans in closer, her hands under chin in thought, “she seems like the broody type, you two would click.” She laughs at Bea’s comical expression but the blonde can’t bother to look in her direction, she’s way too wrapped up in what little the stranger a few tables away had to offer. She would sit on that thought, Bea was not one to shy away from anything.

***

The two became friends quicker than anyone could think.

One day after school, Poppy’s car wouldn’t start. It just didn’t comply. You would think she’d be poised and call her mechanic to come fix it, but instead the blonde slumped against the driver’s side window and let out a visibly frustrated, high-pitched yelp. Bea watched her pace around the car and even...kick?...the front bumper with her heels in efforts to wake it up.

“You know I may be wrong but I think that only makes it worse..” She approaches the helpless blonde with a small grin. Poppy’s persistence amazed her though, she’s never seen anyone determined to beat a car up. An expensive one at that.

“I hope you have some idea how to fix it, unless you’re here to waste my time and ask me on a date.”

Woah.

Okay that definitely threw Bea on a whim. She lets out a sharp laugh and bites her lips in amusement. She strolls towards the front of her car, holding Poppy’s gaze the whole way. She liked that the blonde didn’t avert her eyes. “And if I did? We couldn’t take your car of course, it’s obviously impaired.”

Poppy smiles and turns to look at Bea properly. She checks out every inch of her with no visible shame. An assessment so to say, and she likes what she sees.

“It’s your lucky day Poppy, I happen to know a thing or three about cars, and I desperately want to get this thing working so we can go on that date.” She winks playfully but god does she mean it. Bea silently prayed that the blonde wouldn’t take it the wrong way, but she knew she won when Poppy didn't protest, instead getting comfortable under some shade and holding her hand out, “the stage is all yours Jackson.”

***

“So what you’re trying to tell me is that I can’t jump over this obvious not-so-protected fence?”

“Judging by the sign right next to it that says...oh wow who would’ve thought, “DO NOT ENTER”, I don’t think so”, Poppy deadpans. It didn’t phase Bea of course because she was already halfway up the fence when the blonde turned away from the sign. The girl had a point to prove, maybe not a valid one, but still a point.

Poppy pinches her eyebrows in exasperation before looking back up to a nonchalant Bea swinging her legs from the top of the fence. She winks down at the blonde, “join me?”

Poppy didn’t expect to be climbing fences with a charismatic girl who had the same color hair as her when she moved schools, but she found herself embracing every moment of it. Although the trip up there was a struggle and some.

“I swear to god there’s a wire in my ass.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“And we’re both going to end up in the hospital. Get. me. Down.”

Bea tries to hold in her laughter the whole way down but lets it loose when she sees Poppy still up there, partly hovering in the air. “Pops...I’ll catch you, don't worry. Climb down slowly.” She doesn’t. But Bea had her feet planted and ready because any moment with the sassy blonde was unpredictable. And she loved it. Especially because she had Poppy engulfed in her arms and they were so close their noses touched.

Bea promised herself she’d kiss the girl next time.

***

“You’re...in a gang?”

Bea felt a clasp of cold air enter her lungs as she stared ahead. It wasn’t like she could hide it from Poppy. She has a reputation, and word has gotten around about the two getting close. This was just like that one time at the end of sophomore year where Bea met Kelly Hall, a beautiful girl with golden rimmed glasses. Unfortunately she only could imagine what could’ve been after whispers ended up right on the doorstep of Kelly’s parents, and she suddenly changed her number, and switched out of every class she had with Bea.

The blonde didn’t want to entertain the thought of Poppy doing the same, but this was a lifestyle she chose.

“I mean...how?”

Bea sighs and turns to look at her, “I fell into the wrong crowd. Or maybe it’s the right one because I never found a true home until I met them. They’re family, I wouldn’t expect you to get it though and I understand if you want to distance-”

“I of all people know what it’s like to not fit in Jackson. You’ve found people who make you feel safe. Maybe I don’t agree with the troubles that come with being in a gang but I don’t know the whole story.”

“Do you want to?”

Poppy wraps her arms around Bea’s and lays her head on her shoulder, “I want to know that you won’t get yourself hurt but I know that’s nearly impossible.”

Bea exhales slowly, not knowing what to say. She knew that this would upset Poppy but her acceptance meant more. She didn’t know what this would mean for the two of them, if there was a “them”, but she felt more encouraged to share more of her other life with the blonde.

“Just promise me one thing Jackson.”

“Yeah?”

Poppy’s voice comes out softer than expected, and Bea ingests every emotion that comes with it, “Promise me you won’t ever put yourself in a position where you have to choose between me or the gang.”

Bea finds her hand in the space where their thighs touched and latches onto it like a lifebuoy,

“I promise.”

***

“I just remembered something Poppy.”

“What, that you have half a brain cell? I thought that was established Jackson.”

Bea launches a pillow that (purposely) misses Poppy’s head by an inch. If she actually hit her and frizzed up her locks then she’d never hear, or see..or walk again.

“I’m being serious. I just remembered this too, we never went on that car date we talked about.”

Poppy squints her eyes in confusion, but was fully aware of what Bea was referring to. “You mean the first time we met?”

The blonde smiles to herself as she replayed that day in her head over and over again. She couldn’t decide if Bea’s openly flirty behavior is what drew her in or if it was her ability to fix any of her possessions with ease. And for free.

Bea pulls Poppy up by her hands until her back is against the lockers. Another perfect opportunity for the blonde to make do of that promise she made to herself, but something told her to wait just a bit longer. “So what do you say? Poppy Min Sinclair, will you go on a date with me?”

Poppy rolls her eyes playfully, pulling Bea in closer by the collar of her letterman, “now who’s being dramatic?”

“I didn’t hear a no”

“I think you know what the answer is.”

That night Zoey helped Bea prep for her first date with the girl that she could say she was almost in love with. The taller girl brushed some dust off of Bea’s jacket and planted her hands on her shoulders, “remember Jackson, give her the ride of her life. And I mean that in every way possible.”

Thanks Zoe.

Bea watched Poppy drive up in front of her house and something inside her mind couldn’t deny the pang her heart let out when she saw Poppy smile the way she did.

Bea took control of the driving and told Poppy to recline her seat and enjoy the ride, with her seatbelt on of course. Safe sacrifices. They cruised through an empty highway blasting Poppy’s spotify playlist named “Rich Bitch Songs” because that was their ideal perfect date. It’s amazing that the two could even come to an agreement, but here we are.

She watched the beautiful blonde sing her lungs out and couldn’t help but mirror her joy, taking her hands off the steering wheel. The pump of adrenaline prompts a new excitement in the air and Poppy wraps Bea into a secure hug, her hair flying wildly with the wind. Bea slows the car down but the rapid beating of her heart made it seem they were going 100 miles per second.

“I feel so alive Jackson.”

Bea stared at the girl in the passenger seat with a look that could only be described as love.

“You make me feel alive.”

Poppy kept talking and Bea found a way to focus on both the road and the blonde next to her. Because when you truly enjoy something, you’ll find a way to keep experiencing it. And Bea enjoyed hearing Poppy’s voice, she loved everything about her.

“I feel like kissing you.”

“Then what’s stopping you?”

“...Nothing. I should’ve done this a long time ago.”

They kiss when Bea pulls over. A hot feeling consumes them like fire when their tongues collide and Bea plants her hands around Poppy’s hips, pushing her back into her seat until she’s on top. The windows easily start to fog up in reaction to the heat, and not once did they take their hands off each other.

Promise 1/2 kept

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

End Note: This chapter was to build their relationship, more angst incoming. BIG THANKS to @somewillwin for letting me use Jackson <3333

Taglist: @samanthadalton @somewillwin @clowneryme @baexpoppy @poppysmc @doey-eyes8 @veenast @straightlikewetspaghetti @phoennixxsblog @a-ghost-girl

#poppy min sinclair #queen b #playchoices #mc x poppy #a huge bug flew onto my screen during the writing process #gave me motivation to HURRY MY AAAAAAASSS UP

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yoolee · 3 years ago

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Actual, real world advice from Lee: Useful corporate phrases

I have no idea if anyone still checks this blog, and if they do, this has nothing to do with what usually gets posted, but I’ve done two of these, so here’s a third!

“Thanks, you’ve given me something to think about.”

Use it: When you get feedback you don’t agree with - especially if you have an immediate emotional reaction to it.

Why: Because it acknowledges but doesn’t agree. Basically buys you time to react privately without damaging the relationship. Immediately (and emotionally) jumping into telling someone why they’re wrong is only going to strain the relationship. When you’re getting feedback, you want the other person to feel heard (science says even having the opportunity to air negative feelings makes people feel more positively about the thing). That doesn’t mean you have to AGREE. This statement lets you acknowledge, while buying you time to process. This also gives you an out on things like opinions people have on presentations or projects: if they bring it up later you can say you thought about it, but decided to keep what you had because A/B/C and by then you’ll have had time to craft an ironclad response.

“I can’t, I have a prior commitment.”

Use it: When you’re being asked to work hours that your coworkers aren’t, or that you are not part of your regular schedule, or, you know, when you have a prior commitment and don’t want to give details.

Why: Your time is your time and you don’t owe an explanation! Yes, it’s important to be a team player, and it’s important to be flexible and get the work done when it needs to get done, bit if you’re in a situation where, say, a parent isn’t asked to come in the weekend because your boss knows they have kids, and you are because they know you don’t, draw the line. There’s often a temptation to justify unavailability (lie and say doctor’s appointment, family event, traveling) but you do not owe justification for your time being your own, and not wanting to take the burden of additional responsibility without additional compensation in return. Being in the habit of not providing justification will come in handy if you ever don’t want to disclose something later (eg, private appointment, interview at another workspace) - it won’t seem suspicious that you’re suddenly being vague.

“The goal/outcome for this meeting is...”

Use it: When you’re running a meeting.

Why: You would be amazed how different everyone’s perceptions of their role in a meeting are, and setting expectations so obviously may feel silly but wow it helps. Let’s say I schedule a 1:1 with my boss. I just call it, Lee/Boss 1:1. I walk in and start venting about how Coworker is always late in responding to my emails. What does my boss do? In this case, my boss doesn’t know if I want them to fix my problem, if I want them to just let me air my grievances, or if I want them to give me advice, etc. If they do something other than what I want, we’ll both be frustrated. If I instead I preface it by saying, “I’m going to handle this on my own, but I just need to say it and be heard.” or “I need some advice.” then we both go into the convo knowing our roles. This works on big meetings too, “I’m going to make the final decision but I schedule this meeting to hear your input…” “At the end of the meeting I want to walk away with a budget we’ve all approved…”

“What is the most important thing for us to accomplish [during this meeting]?”

Use it: When you don’t know the expectations for a meeting, you don’t think you need to be in the meeting, the meeting has a lot of people on it, or you’re getting frustrated because you don’t know why there’s a meeting in the first place.

Why: So that you and the person leading the meeting don’t focus on different things! See the above entry :)

“Hypothetically, what would the ideal outcome look like?”

Use it: When someone is stuck on a problem (including yourself).

Why: We tend to artificially impose limits on our problem-solving, which stops us from being creative, going into an open-ended hypothetical offers a new vantage point.

A lot of times when we’re stuck, we try so hard to make do with what we’ve got that we fail to consider how much more is actually available to us. Start with the ideal and figure out which components of it are accessible. Then work backwards with what/how/who questions. What/how/who are open-ended. They make you think! Consider: “Can you rent space by this weekend?” this is a closed decision, it limits you to yes/no, and puts limiters on the delivery (what comes to mind are event halls, restaurants, etc) Compare to: “What kind of space do you need?” which could prompt something like, oh, just space for 10 people - what about a park? Open-ended questions are your friend when trying to help someone solve a problem (even if that ‘someone’ is yourself!)

(not a phrase) Save ‘I’ for remediation, passive voice for problems

Use it: When you have to communicate a problem that is not your fault.

Why: Because you shouldn’t take responsibility for something that isn’t your responsibility - but throwing someone else under the bus is NEVER a good look. Putting the ‘I’ on action shows you’re working on it. Consider, “I don’t have bandwidth to take on this project right now” vs “This project will require more analysis than that timeframe allows, but I can start on it [later ETA].” The latter is stronger - the fault is on the project, not your time management (or your leadership’s inability to see that your plate is full). Also, “I haven’t finished because Bob hasn’t sent me the graphics.” vs, “The project’s just waiting on graphics. I should be able to wrap up by Tuesday if they arrive Monday. I’ve reached out to Bob, his ETA is [ETA]”. Same thing - it’s communicated that the project isn’t finished, but the fault is left sort of nebulous. You’re not artificially taking it one, and you’re not tossing Bob under the bus. Takes some practice, but definitely makes life easier. Caveat (there’s always one): If you screw up, take ownership and do it fast. It is always, ALWAYS better to control the narrative of failure than for your leadership to find out you failed from someone else.

(not a phrase) KEEP TALKING

Use it: When you’re interrupted by someone being obnoxious.

Why: Because you’re not done, and they’re being rude, and this communicates that without calling them out. Legit, just finish your sentence like you don’t hear them talking. Don’t miss a beat. Not to make this about gender, but this is something I, as a female on mostly all-male teams, have found to be EXTREMELY effective, to the point of other people reaching out to me after like wow that interrupting person was kinda bein’ an asshole, sorry, and me being like no biggie thanks for noticing and taking my back. Has that secondary reach out ever happened when I just meekly cut myself off for them? No. Caveat - maybe don’t do this if the person interrupting is like, a VP/CEO they won’t take it well. Also, second caveat, have some grace for your coworkers if it’s not something they do often and you work with them frequently - we all get overexcited and interrupt unintentionally. This is specifically for use in scenarios where a) you are not being heard and you need to be b) you are the authority (either by knowledge, seniority, or scheduling) c) to make someone who interrupts habitually aware they’re doing it to you.

Edit: The fantastic and wise @han-pan offered as well, “Can I finish?” quoth she: “I find it helpful because it identifies that person has interrupted, it is stark and direct enough to startle someone out of talking louder and louder until you finish, and it’s really hard to be mad at someone for asking your permission when you’ve fucked up.” AND I AGREE. This is a good one to use in those ‘have some grace’ moments, as it’s less likely to damage the relationship.

“Sorry, but I don’t have the decision-making or budget authority.”

Use it: When someone on LinkedIn wants you to try their service...

Why: Because they’ll leave you alone, usually.

“What’s the most important issue for you to solve/question for you to answer?”

Use it: When you’re disagreeing on approach with someone.

Why: Again, expectation aligning!

Sometimes people just dig their heels in on something. There’s usually a reason. Let’s say Coworker A and Coworker B are both working a presentation for Director C. Coworker A is frustrated because they’ve been given strict instructions to keep it to 15 minutes, but Coworker B keeps adding slides, even after A deletes them. By asking B what the most important question for them to answer is, A can use that as a guidepost to focus the presentation. (Likewise, if B asks, what’s the issue, they’ll understand A is really concerned about going over time)

#wtf do I tag these I don't even remember #lee is procrastinating #hello I'm alive #I hope you're all doing well and staying safe and healthy and more happy than not!#sometimes I take a break from samurai #to pretend I'm a functional adult #advice

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ssa-babygirl · 4 years ago

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Out of my League [Part 5]

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Single mom!Reader

Word count: 4.1k

Summary: A night out with the team leaves you and Spencer with so much unsaid, despite how much he spills to you while you’re drunk and half asleep.

Warning(s): Mentions of past addiction, alcohol consumption, some swear words, mentions of past bullying, EXTREME PINING

Author’s Note: I told yall this chapter wouldn’t take 10 years. just like... a week and a half. I promise I’ll do better lmao also enjoy the fluff cuz uh,, yall are gonna hate me next chapter oops

[Previous Part] [Series Masterlist]

Washington D.C., 2009

(Reader POV)

Rossi’s dinner party would not be the last time Spencer had to drive your drunk ass home. It happened two or three in the two years since that night. Dave meant it when he said you were one of them. Whenever they went out for drinks after a case, you would get a text from one of the girls asking if you wanted to come. Your mom living a few blocks away from you was helpful because you just needed to drop Jamie off and head over to O’Keefe’s. You very rarely went overboard because you normally had to drive home, but tonight was not one of those nights.

The team had just gotten back from a local case in Bethesda, so Emily offered to pick you up on her way back. Hotch gave them all the rest of the night off after they made the arrest, but Spencer, always the workaholic, still wanted to finish up his paperwork before going out.

Your mom came to get Jamie and take him back to her house, so you were free to get all dressed up for a night on the town with your friends. You didn’t want to look too formal since most of them were still going to be in their work clothes, so you got out a cute green button-down blouse and tucked it into some high-waisted jeans. You put on your favorite locket and let your hair down. You went with a light makeup look, just brows, cheeks, and lashes. You were all set by the time Emily pulled up in front of your place. You strapped up your wedges and grabbed your purse, heading out the door, excited to see everyone after they’d been so busy.

“Hey! You look nice!”

“And you’re not so bad for fresh off a crime scene.”

“Should’ve seen me catch the guy, I looked amazing.”

“I’m sure you did, Em.”

Emily told you about the case, or rather just the ending. You only liked to hear her stories when they had happy endings. This one was pleasant enough, but you had a feeling that she was leaving some details out since it was apparently so bad that even Spencer would be tagging along for drinks.

When you got to the bar, Derek and Penelope were already sitting at a booth in the back with Aaron and Dave. Penelope hopped up from her seat to give you a hug as soon as you approached the table.

“Hey, there she is,” Morgan smiled over his beer.

“Reid’s not driving tonight?” Aaron asked.

“He texted me, he’s on his way, he wanted to finish his paperwork back at the precinct.”

“So what I’m hearing is you finally have time to tell us stories about Reid in high school,” Dave said with a smirk.

“No, come on, he’ll kill me,” you settled into the booth.

Emily snorted, “I’d be surprised if he even found it in him to be mad at you.”

“Oh, it’s happened before.” Your face scrunched up at the memory of what happened that day on the football field.

“Really?” Penelope seemed shocked.

“Yeah I’d… Rather not talk about it.” You didn’t know if Spencer had told the team about the Alexa Lisbon incident, so you didn’t want to talk about how he had been so angry with you for babying him.

“Oh, come on, the kid was in love with you,” Derek prodded, “What’d you do?”

You elected to ignore his comment, “No, it was just stupid.” You could still talk about Kyle, though. The team knew the story of how you’d met Spencer, they just didn’t know about how upset he was when he found out you got back together with Kyle just a few months after you dumped him.

“We love hearing about the stupid things you did!” Garcia squealed.

You stared at the table and fiddled with a napkin to avoid eye contact as you said, “I dated one of his bullies.”

Dave was the first to break the silence, “But Reid said you broke up with him when you found out.”

You bit your lip and hesitated before owning up to it, “Did he tell you that Kyle is Jamie’s dad?”

Emily gasped, “No way!”

“We barely spoke outside of tutoring after that between him being scared of Kyle and basketball season. We were both busy with our teams.”

“Reid played basketball?” Aaron asked, amused.

“He was the coach.” You managed to crack a slight smile, “Budget cuts. But, hey, it was for the best, that was our best season in years.”

“Hard to believe he could focus on strategy with you cheering from the sidelines.” Derek wiggled his eyebrows and took another sip of his beer.

You were quick to change the subject, “So is JJ coming?”

Emily shook her head, “She went home after the case cuz she missed Henry.”

“Oh that boy is the sweetest little thing, I miss when Jamie was that little.”

Aaron sipped his whiskey, “How old is he again?”

“Ten. I’m old, don’t remind me, it’s fucking me up.”

“Ah! Language, bella.”

“Sorry Dave. But speaking of getting effed up, I’ll go get the next round.” You stood and took everyone’s drink orders: Dave and Aaron were sharing an expensive bottle that Dave had already paid for, Emily wanted a martini, Derek just asked for another beer, while Penelope ordered the most elaborate cocktail on the menu, but luckily it was her usual, so you had it pretty much memorized by now.

You strolled up to the bar and gave the bartender the order, which he got right on. He started with giving you Derek’s beer, then Em’s martini, then your rum and coke, before getting to work on Penelope’s ridiculously fruity drink. An older man stalked into your field of view with a beer in his hand, grinning dumbly.

“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

You snorted, “Has that line ever worked?”

“Truth be told, I’ve never used it.”

“Well you don’t have a great success rate right now, bud.” You looked over the man’s shoulder and made eye contact with Penelope, who turned to Derek and gave him a heads up.

“Well let me buy you a drink, maybe it’ll work better the second time around.”

“Oh, no, thank y—”

“No, come on, what’s one drink?”

You grabbed the tray with everyone’s drinks and started to pass him, “I should really get back to my friends.”

“Hey, I won’t keep you long,” He caught you by the arm and the last thing you saw before he turned you to face him again was Penelope leaping up from her seat to let Derek through, “what are you drinking?”

“Babygirl, how long does a beer take?” Derek stepped up behind you and placed a delicate hand on the small of your back, “This guy bothering you, doll?”

The man dropped his hand from your arm, “We were just talking.”

“Really? ‘Cuz to me it seems like you were trying to put the moves on my girl.”

“Babe, it’s fine,” you caught on quickly, placing a hand on Derek’s chest to keep up the ruse of holding him back, “I’m just waiting for Pen’s drink.”

“Get the hell out of here, man.” Derek glares and the other man leaves reluctantly. “You okay?”

You nodded, “Thank you.”

“Hey, no problem, sweetheart.” He withdrew his hand from the small of your back, “Wouldn’t want Pretty Boy to get jealous.”

You felt your face heat up as your eyebrows knit together, feigning confusion.

“Oh, come on, Y/N, you can’t seriously tell me you don’t see it.”

You played dumb, “See what?”

He sips his beer, “You don’t need to be a profiler to see the way he looks at you, Y/N.”

“Oh, god, first my mother, now you too?”

“I’m serious, I’ve only seen him like this one other time.”

“When?”

“On a case a few years ago. There was this actress we were helping out, Lila Archer.”

“Lila Archer? The Lila Archer?”

“Yeah, she had a little crush on Reid for a bit. They made out once.”

“They what?”

He laughed, “What’re ya jealous?”

“No!” Maybe? “It just seems so unprofessional, I wouldn’t have pegged him for a guy who would--”

“Hook up with a movie star? Yeah, I didn’t think so either. It didn’t work out with them, obviously, he said she only felt that way about him because he saved her life.”

“What does this have to do with me?”

“Ever thought about how you protecting him his whole life may have had a similar effect?”

“Showing him basic human decency didn’t make him fall in love with me, Derek.”

“No, but saving his life did.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think that’s more of a question for Pretty Boy himself.” Derek nodded his chin over your shoulder. You followed his gaze and saw Spencer coming up behind you, grinning as he neared the bar.

“Hey.”

“Hey, haircut! Lookin’ good!” Your fingers laced through his shaggy locks and messed up his new boy band-esque style.

A faint blush spread across his cheeks as he fixed his hair, “T-Thanks.”

“When you lovebirds feel like talking to the rest of us, I’ll be at the table with the rest of the team.”

You roll your eyes and turn back to the lanky boy next to you, “Lemme buy you a drink, Spence.”

“Oh, no thank you. I’m driving. And also did you know--”

“You can just say you don’t want it.”

“No, I do. That’s the problem.”

Your face contorted with confusion until it suddenly clicked, “Oh… Has that ever been a problem for you before?”

“Not anymore, and not alcohol, but yeah.”

“Wait, Spence, why didn’t you tell me? I-I’m not mad, it’s your choice, obviously, but I could have helped.”

“You did.”

“I did?”

“Remember that one time I was too sick to talk on our Saturday call?”

“Yeah?”

“I had just gotten back from a case in New Orleans. Remember Ethan from school?”

You nodded, holding onto every word.

“He’s in a jazz band down there now. He talked me into getting help. When you called, I was at the lowest point of withdrawals, shaking so hard I couldn’t sleep, and completely alone. I almost didn’t pick up, but I knew you wouldn’t accept that,” he laughed nervously, “and when I heard your voice…”

He trailed off, finally meeting your eyes.

“When I said I wasn’t feeling well, you said ‘I’m putting Jamie down for the night, wanna hear his bedtime story?’”

You both found yourselves smiling slightly at the memory.

“Not once, during any book I’ve read, had I fallen asleep so easily as I did when you read me The Very Hungry Caterpillar.”

He took a deep breath, almost shuddering, “It was the first time I slept without nightmares since Tobias Hankle.”

You remembered that name. He’d come up in conversations from time to time but you never heard anything about his case. He was always a touchy subject for the team, and now you knew why.

“How long ago was this?”

“Almost three years ago.” He didn’t even have to think about it.

“Spence, you could have told me. You can tell me anything.”

“Anything?” He gulped.

You reached for his hand on the bar and felt it tense under your touch. You’d think after how long you’d known him his touch aversion wouldn’t be an issue with you anymore, but apparently not. Feeling your cheeks heat up, you withdrew your hand as if you burnt your hand on a hot stove and let out an awkward scoff, turning away to look back at your friends, who tried and failed miserably at making it look like they weren’t watching you and Spencer.

“We should…”

“Yeah… w-we should.” Spencer passed you and sat down next to Derek in the booth, leaving you in your usual spot next to Emily with your first of many drinks that night.

3 Hours Later

(Spencer’s POV)

I helped her into my car and buckled her up after she couldn’t find the seatbelt. When I got into the driver’s seat, I glanced at her to see if she was still conscious, only to see her dopey smile directed at me.

“What?” I laughed nervously.

“Nothing,” she slurred, dragging out the ‘ing’ and turning her head towards the window.

“You okay?”

She nodded and leaned her head against the glass as I pulled out of the parking lot. She was quiet for the most part during the drive, so I assumed she was asleep, so imagine my shock when she piped up as soon as I parked in front of her place.

“Can you walk me in?” she asked as if I could say no to her.

“Of course.” I was going to regardless. I helped her out of the car and she stood on wobbly legs. She groaned and looked at her feet.

“Hold this.” She shoved her purse into my arms and placed a hand on my shoulder and hopped up to take off one of her heels, tossing it onto her seat before repeating her actions on her other shoe. She grabbed the pair and marched up the path to her front door. I trailed close behind, just in case she stumbled, which she did.

She fumbled for her key when she suddenly remembered that I had her purse. I dug through the pockets and fished it out, tossing it to her once I got close enough. She instantly giggled as soon as I met her eyes.

“What’s so funny now?”

“Nothing, Spence,” she failed to stifle a smile as she tried to open the door, “You have nothing to worry about.”

I stepped in beside her, “Well you’ve been awfully quiet since we left and now you’re laughing at me!”

“I’m just thinking!”

“That can’t be good,” I joked, prompting her to lightly slap my arm, “Kidding! What are you thinking about?”

“Don’t worry about it!”

“No, now I’m curious!”

“Just something stupid Derek said before you came tonight.”

“Oh jeez, now I have to know.” She climbed up the staircase and down the hallway in front of her bedroom. She twisted the knob and pushed open the door. I stepped in after her and placed her purse down on the dresser. She flopped down on the bed, shuffling under the covers, not even bothering to change out of the clothes she wore to the bar. I grinned down at her. She looked like an angel snuggled up in the sheets.

“Comfy?”

“Very.”

“Good. Call me if you need anything, Y/N,” I started to walk towards the door.

“Did you have a crush on me in high school?”

I paused.

“W-Where’d you get that from?” Nice job, genius, that doesn’t sound guilty at all.

“That’s what Derek said.” She was now sitting up in bed.

Okay, but how did he know that?

“How did this come up exactly?”

She explained how the team was trying to get her to tell them embarrassing stories about me as a kid (sidenote: not cool, guys) and my dear old friend Kyle came up. She said that Morgan brought up transference, where a person experiences something traumatic and associates their “hero” with safety and feelings of relief after being helped.

“He said one girl you helped in a case had feelings for you and the way you explained transference to Derek sounded like you were speaking from experience.”

Great. This is what I get for only having friends on the team. My best guy friend is also a profiler who can read me like a book. Awesome.

I let out a deep sigh and sat down in the chair next to her bed, “I was.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“Yeah. Because that’s where it all started for me. A pretty girl told off one of my bullies and showed me basic human decency--”

“Aw, Spence, you thought I was pretty?” She teased, eliciting a chuckle from me.

“Of course I did. Y/N, you were the head cheerleader that came to me for help with chemistry and tousled my hair and bought me McDonald’s whenever our study sessions ran late. To twelve-year-old Spencer you were this perfect, unattainable princess--”

“Princess?” She giggled and it was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard, “I like that.”

“Yep.” I laughed with her, “A princess who lived in a beautiful castle with posters on the walls and sparkly beads on the curtains and Doctor Who playing on the TV and a mom that always invited me to stay for dinner and I’m rambling again but that’s perfectly fine with you because you actually cared about what I had to say, especially when I would talk about Shakespeare because A Midsummer Night’s Dream was your favorite assigned reading and--” I stopped myself before it slipped out.

I love you. I’ve said it a million times to her in a million different ways but I knew at that moment that if I said the actual words that I wouldn’t be able to take them back, not that I would ever want to, I just want her to be present when I told her the first time. If I said it now it would be the first time she’d hear it from me and she wouldn’t even remember it when she woke up.

“And what?” She still smiled at me so brightly that the dimly lit room was lit up by the gleam in her eyes.

I smiled back, “You’re my best friend.”

Her grin somehow grew wider, her eyes scrunching up, but the sparkle was still there, “You’re my best friend too.”

If I hadn’t already decided against it, I would have said it then. I would have repeated those words over and over again until the words lost all meaning, only they never would because they felt like they meant the world to me. But I wouldn’t let myself start. Instead, I just looked at her like she was the moon and stars and all the space in between and said, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Spence, wait,” she murmured, further burying herself in her covers.

“What now?” I whined, the smile still present on my face.

“I think you’re pretty too.”

It had never been harder for me to resist the urge to kiss her than in that moment. Every fiber of my being screamed to sit back down, lean over her pillow, take her face in my hands, and crash my lips to hers. And for a split second, I thought I would. I almost did. I almost gave myself everything I had ever wanted for sixteen years, four months, and eleven days, but I couldn’t.

“And I think you’re drunk.”

“Spencer Reid!” She squealed, “Just cuz I’m drunk does not mean that you aren’t pretty!”

“Oh really?”

“Yep! ‘Cuz guess what, genius?”

“What?”

“I think you’re pretty when I’m sober, too.”

If I didn’t know any better I’d say she was trying to drive me insane. And you know what?

It was working.

While I was lost in my thoughts, no doubt staring at her, she let out a tiny yawn and snuggled deeper into her pillow. A piece of hair fell in front of her eyes, hooded yet still shining. I brushed the hair out of her face and told her to get some rest.

“Good idea. I’m sleepy,” she dragged out the e and yawned again, “Goodnight, Pretty Boy.”

“Goodnight, princess.” I chuckled softly. My fingers still lingered just behind her ear, so I stroked her hair once more and pressed a small kiss to her forehead once I was sure she was asleep. Her cheeks twitched in a barely conscious smile, making me grateful for my eidetic memory again. I went to the kitchen and took a glass from the cabinet, filling it up in the sink and placing it on the nightstand with some aspirin.

I took a sheet of some stationery and scrawled out a note for her in the morning:

Make sure you stay hydrated. There’s more aspirin in your cabinet but wait a few hours to take it. Call me if you need anything. -S.R.

The Next Morning

(Reader’s POV)

The coffee machine made too much noise. Your head was pounding despite the fact you took an aspirin a few minutes ago. Now you played the waiting game, hoping it would kick in soon. When the pot was finally done, you poured yourself a cup, hoping it would help wake you up. You normally wouldn’t drink coffee this late, but you needed it. Just as you took your first sip, your mom came through the front door with Jamie in tow carrying his pajamas in a shopping bag. He said good morning to you and ran upstairs to his room.

“Did you just wake up?”

“Yes.”

“Y/N, it’s almost noon.” You could hear the judgment in her voice.

You took a sip of coffee, “It’s 11:05.”

“I take it you had fun at O’Keefe’s last night?”

“Yeah,” you grumbled, rubbing your eyes.

“How’d you get home?”

“Spence drove me.”

Her eyes widened, excited. She lowered her voice to ask, “Is he still here?”

“Mom!” You whisper-yelled.

“I was just checking!”

“No, he’s not, he dropped me off and went home.” You decided to leave out the whole “putting you to bed” part.

“How’s your hangover?”

“Better with aspirin.”

“Have you been drinking water?”

“A little,” you lied.

“No more coffee until you finish a glass.” She took your mug and dumped its contents down the drain.

“Wh—” You start, “Mom, I’m not a kid.”

“Just drink your damn water.”

“Jesus,” you groan, still making your way to the stairs and heading up to your room, where your water had been put on your nightstand the night before. Under the glass was a note that you didn’t notice when you first woke up. You recognized the chicken scratch handwriting immediately: Spencer.

“Make sure you stay hydrated. There’s more aspirin in your cabinet but wait a few hours to take it. Call me if you need anything. -S.R.”

You smiled as you read the words over and over. You put the note down and took a sip from the glass. You reached over to your phone on the nightstand and dialed his number. It rang twice before Spencer’s voice crackled over the speaker, “Hey, how’re you feeling?”

“Better, thank you.”

“Of course. Did you drink the water I gave you last night?”

“Some of it.”

“Good, did you eat?”

“No.”

“I’m going on my lunch break in a bit, wanna meet up?”

Your heart fluttered at the offer, a small grin tugging at your lips. You nodded, unable to find words enthusiastic enough to express how much you’d like that, before settling on “Yeah! Sounds good!”

“Perfect! There’s a new thai place downtown I’ve been meaning to check out, how about there?”

“Sure! I’ll meet you at Quantico?”

“See you then!”

“Bye,” you all but sighed into the receiver before snapping out of it. You always tried to keep that part of you beneath the surface, but it wasn’t as easy as it used to be. You didn’t remember much from last night, but you did remember calling him pretty boy and making him blush. You remember him tucking you in and calling you princess and brushing your hair out of your eyes. You remembered how your chest swelled with light as he pressed his lips to your forehead, and the soft chuckle he let out seeing you smile against your pillow.

You hopped in the shower and got dressed, fixing yourself just enough to pass for a functioning adult who did not get sloppy drunk in front of her best friend’s coworkers last night. You told your mom you were going out for lunch, and she happily agreed to babysit for a few hours while you were with Spencer.

“Have fun on your date!”

“Not a date!” You almost couldn’t tell who you were talking to, her or you.

You got to Quantico about a half-hour later and were met by Dave in the bullpen.

“Oh, look who’s joined the land of the living!”

“Oh, come on, I wasn’t that bad last night. I could have been Penelope.”

“That is true, bella, but it was still a Thursday,” Dave chuckled, “The kid’s in Aaron’s office, he’ll be out in a sec.”

“Thank you,” you said and walked over to Spencer’s desk, sitting down in his chair and making small talk with Emily while you waited. A few minutes later, you saw him walk out of the office, eyes immediately landing on you.

Taglist~~~

Lmk if you wanna be added! Some names didn’t work so if you don’t see your name as a tag just dm me a url and I’ll try to fix it

@lawnmoa @ellvswriting @baby-pogue @purelyprentiss @confused-and-really-hungry @thatsonezesty13 @deni-gonzalez @irjuejjsaa @randomfandomshitposts @bisoner @moonstarrnghtsky @smurfflynn @eldahae @t0xicllama @undeniablyyou @staplernpaper @theweirdobella @sammypotato67 @k-k0129 @helloniallslovelies @dazzlingnights @uhuhuh @booksarekindaneat @crimeshowtrash @carlgrxmes @collectiveuniverses @annesauriol

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #mgg smut #mgg x reader #mgg imagine #mgg fanfiction #mgg #cm imagine #cm fan fiction #CM #criminal minds imagine #Criminal Minds Reid #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #Criminal Minds

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years ago

Text

Satisfied, Part 28

First

~~~

The pair sprinted out of the store, blonde in tow. It took about half a minute for Chloe to finally process everything going on, and another ten seconds for her to finally catch her footing enough for them to let go.

Marinette chanced a look back and cringed. A few people had stayed inside the store for various reasons but most were following after them, phones in hand. She pulled up her hood.

Dick glanced at both of them as they neared a crowded escalator. “Can you guys hop a railing?”

“Obviously,” said Marinette.

“... No? What the hell?” Chloe said.

Marinette and Dick gave each other a look before he groaned.

“Sorry for this.”

“For wha --?” The girl began but she, unfortunately, got her answer pretty quickly. He picked her up and held her to his chest, resting a hand over the back of her neck.

The two vigilantes gave each other a small nod before they jumped over the railing. Neither of them pointed out the fact that they both had perfect form, or that it was clearly an everyday thing for them. Because now more people were staring.

“Didn’t think this through, huh?” Chloe commented as she was let down.

“Shut up,” muttered Dick.

And then they were running again.

A quick look back at the crowd chasing them made her face pale. Fun! Now security thought they were thieves.

“Oh, come on, do you guys have to do your jobs?” She whined.

Ah, crap. They were losing Chloe. Dick was distracted, pulling out his wallet (for some reason) and hadn’t noticed.

Marinette bit her cheek. They could just leave her. A glance at the security footage would clear her name. It would be fi--.

She skidded to a stop and wheeled around. Damn it.

When Chloe got to her, she threw her over her shoulder and started up again. She raced to catch up with their third member, who was now dropping money on the floor.

She blinked a few times to process this, then shook her head and ran faster.

“The hell, Dick?” Chloe yelled as they stepped out into the sun.

“The less people chasing us the better! I can afford it!” He said.

They gave a pause at the edge of the parking lot. Their car was... well, they didn’t know.

“Random alley and hope we don’t get mugged?” Marinette offered.

“Yeah,” Dick said.

They passed off Chloe like a baton and then broke into a run again.

Five minutes later, they were panting in an alleyway. Marinette looked down to check her clothes weren’t originals before dropping onto her back and spreading out in the grime. Dick all but dropped the girl he was holding and leaned against a wall as he tried to catch his breath.

Chloe, who hadn’t run in a little while, was mostly just holding her probably bruised stomach (Marinette hadn’t taken time to make sure she was positioned properly on her shoulder).

“The PR team is gonna hate meeeeee,” complained Dick, who was sliding down the wall very slowly.

“You know...” Began Chloe, who seemed a bit hesitant to say anything.

“What?” Hissed Marinette, squeezing her eyes shut.

“You probably could have said that Mari was going to be future Wayne adoptee number 453542 and no one would have batted an eye.”

There was a short silence, then a string of very creative cursing from both of them.

After they had cursed enough to feel marginally better, Dick turned to Marinette. “Remember when I told you that you should let go of your anger?”

“Mhmm...”

“Not with her. Stay mad. She’s smarter than us. That’s not allowed.”

Chloe gave a short laugh and held out a hand to each of them to get up.

Marinette smiled and took it.

It took a week for her to be allowed on patrol again. This was good for her job, she was actually getting work done (she had even finished Adrien’s outfit!), but also dreadfully boring at times.

So, when she was finally told on the comms that she could come back, she was somewhat disappointed when Red Hood said that he was going to take the day to teach her sparring.

There was, unsurprisingly, a bit of an argument over this.

“Red Hood can’t mentor her! She already has less morals than us, we can’t just let him corrupt her!” Nightwing hissed.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.”

“I’m doing this to teach her to communicate her injuries. Would you like me not to do that?”

Batman sighed. “No, but maybe someone else would be better suited than you to --.”

“I’m better suited than all of you!”

“Why don’t we just go over and abduct Ladybug?” Chimed in Robin.

“Yeah, do your weird dad thing and track his credit card,” said Red Robin.

Batman sputtered for a response, then sighed. “I guess I could...”

“Suckers! I’m using cash!” Red Hood said, which was met with a string of cursing.

Marinette turned off her comm with a small roll of her eyes. “Tikki, spots on,” she muttered.

Only to scream.

Because the hands and feet of her costume weren’t appearing.

She stared at the glowing purple at her wrists and ankles. As she watched, it retreated up her arms very slightly. Her costume was disappearing before her eyes.

She swallowed thickly. What could she do? She couldn’t really switch miraculi. Ladybug was already well-known enough there to have a costume made of her. But, ethically, could she continue on like this, knowing how Tikki must be suffering? And even if she did, how? The purple was glowing. It would be hard to miss.

Marinette mulled this over for a bit before walking around her apartment. She picked up the pro-fighter gloves she’d stolen from the Waynes and a set of parkour shoes. At least they were black. She didn’t know what she’d do if her outfit didn’t even slightly match.

A few minutes after she’d pulled them on, Red Hood opened the door to her apartment.

She blinked. “Didn’t I lock that?”

“Yeah, I learned how to pick house locks while you were out,” he explained.

She gave a small frown but shrugged it off and pushed past him. He caught her hand and raised his eyebrows at her new look. Dang, she hadn’t even gotten out the door.

“What’s up with the new outfit?”

She shrugged casually and pulled her hand from his grip. “Honestly? I was getting tired of the plain outfit. Figured I’d start upgrading it over time.”

He looked a bit skeptical. She couldn’t blame him. The last time he’d seen her in this costume she’d been shot. She’d think that she was getting weaker, too.

And she was. But he didn’t need to know that.

Okay, so maybe Jason had had a point. So what?

They slipped out the window and started making their way across the rooftops.

“You’d tell me if there was anything wrong, right?” Red Hood said as he hopped another roof with ease.

She tipped her head to the side and considered this. It was the whole point of what they were doing, getting her to admit when she needed help. But she brushed this aside. She couldn’t get help for this. The only way to fix it was to give someone the cat miraculous.

And she didn’t know if she trusted Robin enough yet.

So she smiled and shook her head. “Honestly, you worry too much. Relax. I’m a designer, remember? Of course I’d want a more intricate outfit than plain spandex.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly and he nodded. “Good.”

She bit back her guilt. “Where are we going, anyways?”

“Private studio.”

She nodded and they continued on in silence. She always hated silence. It gave her way too much time to think. About the way she was getting weaker with every transformation. About how she was supposed to hide it. About whether it was right to do so.

Marinette was glad when they finally touched ground outside a dojo.

They stepped inside and the person at the front blinked a few times. “It’s really you,” he said.

Red Hood rolled his eyes. “Take a picture, it’d last longer.”

She swatted him over the back of the head when the attendant actually began to take out his phone. “You can take one afterwards, okay? We’d prefer not to be hounded right when we leave.”

The man nodded and sheepishly put his phone away. They were led into a private room not unlike the one the Waynes had (though, admittedly, far lower in budget).

Red Hood crossed his arms. “Right. Ground rules: we fight until one of us gives up, we have to give up when we’re in pain or completely pinned, and two taps on whatever you can reach is a give up.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Why two taps?”

He gave a shrug. “It’s what Nightwing and Batman drilled into all of us. My guess is one could be an accident and three just feels excessive.”

Marinette nodded. Fair enough.

She could feel him watching while they stretched and groaned. “I’m fine. I barely even feel it anymore.”

“We can postpone if you need, I don’t care about the money.”

She rolled her eyes. “Relaaaaax.”

All he gave her was a stern look in return.

“Kwami, you’re beginning to look like Batman, scowling like that.”

He gasped. “You take that back!”

“Nope,” she grinned, pushing herself to her feet.

They both got into fighting positions.

They eyed each other warily as they circled each other. Marinette didn’t know Red Hood’s fighting style for close-combat, and Red Hood seemed to be considering his options.

She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she eyed him up and down. He was certainly strong, a quick glance showed that, but did he know how to use it? He had years of vigilante experience, surely he must know some hand-to-hand combat, right? Then again, he was only really known for using guns. Maybe she could beat him, maybe not. She didn’t want to underestimate him...

He lunged forward and she had to jump over him to dodge, using his back as a vault so she could land on her feet. He stumbled forwards a step and whipped around just in time to earn a kick in the stomach. To her surprise, though, he didn’t double over all that much, only giving a small wheeze at the blow. He must be used to hand-to-hand, then, if he could take a kick like that.

Damn.

They narrowed their eyes at each other.

He ran forward, hand coming up for a punch. She grinned and dodged the easy attack. He must be trying to figure out her style. She’d just have to make sure to stay inconsistent --.

His leg swiped under her and she cringed as she hit the ground with a dull thud, only just managing to roll out of the way when he came down after her.

A hand locked around her leg and she cursed, kicking up in a weak attempt to break his grip, but he held fast. With a quick twist she was forced onto her stomach to avoid messing up her ankle and she groaned as he leaned forward to press her head onto the mat. She wiggled around awkwardly underneath him, only to sigh when she realized she wasn’t getting out of it.

There was a beat.

She reluctantly tapped the ground twice.

His weight shifted off of her and she sent him a glare as she flipped onto her back.

He gave her a small smile, holding out a hand to help her up.

“You know, if I didn’t think Nightwing would infect you with his stupid morals, I’d let him train you. You have similar fighting styles. Very... jump-y.”

She scoffed and took his hand, allowing him to pull her up. “Fight with him often?”

“You have no idea,” he said with a slight grin. “Best two out of three?”

She nodded and brought her hands back up to her face.

After a little bit of fighting she’d managed to get a grasp on his fighting style. It seemed a mix of a bunch of different martial arts, but he seemed to put an emphasis on pins rather than genuinely painful attacks.

With this in mind, she was actually able to win some. He definitely won more than she did, he wasn’t going easy on her at all, but it was nice to not lose every time.

Red Hood handed her a water bottle and rested an arm around her shoulders as she drank it. “Same time next week?”

She grinned and wiped her mouth. “Don’t trust me to tap out all the time, yet?”

“You’re getting better,” he admitted, then ruffled her hair. “You’re finally tapping out at the moment you realize you’re not getting up, but I’d like you to start doing it while you’re being pinned instead of after.”

She nodded thoughtfully.

“Fine, fine. I’ll... consider it.”

He sent her a halfhearted glare. She smiled cheekily and rested a hand over the doorknob. “Ready for the press?”

“Never am,” he muttered.

They both brought their widest smiles to their faces as they stepped out to greet the paparazzi.

~~~

Taglist

@comet-kun @thatonecroc @trippingovermyfeet @swiftie-miraculer13 @nickristus-dreamer @moongoddesskiana @i-am-ironic @indecisive-mess-named-me @thebooki3h @insane-fangirl-of-everything @deepestobservationwombat @theymakeupfairies @fatimaabbasrizvi @clumsy-owl-4178 @fanofalittletoomuch @iamablinkmarvelarmy @nathleigh @lilkymilky @silvergold-swirl @dino-lovingreen-angel @thestressmademedoit @kissa-chan @ladybug-182 @alysrose-starchild @t1dwarrior-of-earth @spyofthenightcourt @rowanrouge @nik-nak-3 @momothefemur @aestheticnpoetic @labschaos @our-preciousss @mochinek0 @eliza-bich @mythogaychic @severelyenchantedwonderland @sashakoi @smolplantmum @bluesimani @tropestropestropes @kitsunebell @keepingupwiththemalfoys @sassakitty @2confused-2doanything @too0bsessedformyowngood @all-mights-asscheeks @demonicbusiness @meg-an-ace

#maribat #satisfied #timinette #timari #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #tim drake #red robin

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marmotish · 4 years ago

Text

🎄👻 Duncan Christmas SQ 👻🎄

Part 3. The Crossing

(~2500 words under the cut)

The bus ride down to Cairnryan was awkwardly silent, with neither Duncan nor Freyja really ready or willing to discuss what had happened. Less awkward than actually speaking to each other though, from an outsider’s perspective.

Not a word was spoken until they had boarded the ferry, with the exception of Duncan hissing “one ticket!” when Freyja initially asked for two at the port.

With most passengers choosing to enjoy the onboard amenities, it was reasonably empty up on deck. No surprise though, given it was late December. The winds coming off the water were chilly to say the least, and the overcast sky did nothing to improve the scenery. But they would have to speak eventually, and better it happen out in the open, away from a larger crowd. That was when Freyja decided it had been long enough avoiding the subject.

“So what was it like?”

“What?”

“When you were inside -“

“DON’T SAY IT.”

Freyja stopped talking, and returned to watching the ocean. Looked like the blunt approach wasn’t the best way to start. But the question was still hanging in the air, unanswered. It was now up to Duncan to resume the conversation. But when? Who knew. Minutes ticked by without another word being spoken.

Well, if he wanted to spend the next couple of hours in silence then that was fine. Nothing was stopping her from enjoying everything else the ferry had to offer. If she got moving now, she could -

“It was really quick, I don’t know...”

OK, forget that.

“I didn’t even know what was happening, but then everything kind of hit me at once. The smell of the street, the cold air on my face, the clothes on my body, the ground under my feet... well, your face and all...”

He hesitated, as though he might have said too much. Freyja waited for him to continue, watching his face carefully.

“It was almost like - being alive again.”

Well FUCK.

Freyja didn’t know how to respond to that. Duncan had always seemed more life-like, more alive than any of the other ghosts she knew. The way he moved through the world was reminiscent of a living person.

Not like Professor Binns, who acted like he didn’t even know he was dead. Quite the contrary, Duncan was more than aware of the fact that he was dead. That was just the problem.

Sure, he floated around like any other ghost, but it was little things that Freyja noticed while they were in Glasgow that kind of set him apart. He never took shortcuts through walls, he moved through the appropriate doorways and corridors. He stuck to moving along the sidewalk. He waved away car exhaust even though he couldn’t smell it. When it had started raining, he pulled up the hood of his cloak, even though he couldn’t get wet.

All these behavioural quirks told of someone who was trapped in an existence they didn’t want, who was instead trying to hang onto any threads of humanity, of a real existence. But pretend as much as he like, he would never be able to replicate the feeling of really being alive. And he had never come closer to being alive than for the few seconds he had taken over Freyja’s body.

Choosing the blunt approach again, Freyja broke the silence with another question.

“Would you do it again if you had the chance?”

“What?!”

Duncan leapt back, putting plenty of space between them. Freyja raised her eyebrows in question, waiting for a reply.

No, it was a terrible idea. As much as he wanted to feel almost alive again, he didn’t know if he would be able to handle it. He barely made it to 5 seconds before.

“You know,” Freyja shrugged her backpack off her shoulders. “I’ve been up for almost 30 hours straight, and I’m just now starting to feel it. I wouldn’t mind switching off for a bit.”

Duncan almost imperceptibly shook his head in confusion, watching as Freyja pulled out an impossibly large blanket and sets it on one of the boxy seats on the deck.

“Think I’ll have a rest. Might be my only chance before we reach the port.”

“Up here on deck? In the cold?”

“well I could sleep inside, but then you wouldn’t be able to smell the salt in the air, or feel the wind in your face. Anyhow, this blanket’s thick and heavy enough to keep you warm.”

“You keep saying ‘you’, but -“

Freyja settled down on the seat, pulling the blanket around her shoulders while Duncan hovered from a safe distance looking understandably perplexed.

“Though you’ll probably fall asleep before too long. If you were able to feel what my body felt before, then you’re going to feel tired too. Think of it like we’re 2 drivers of the same car, my body being the car obviously. If the car runs out of petrol, it doesn’t matter who’s driving. It’s not going anywhere.”

“JUST GET TO THE POINT.”

Freyja glared at him. “Oh NOW you want the blunt approach.” Rolling her eyes, she continued. ”Fine. I’m saying if you wanted to try the possession thing again, then that’s fine with me.”

OK. She really said it. He wasn’t really expecting her to.

But possessing someone just to fall asleep? What would be the point in that? Then again, it would be less intense than possessing a body that was being fuelled by pure adrenaline. Surely something like falling asleep should be enough for him to handle. God knows he was emotionally exhausted. Not being able to sleep and spending every moment with your own thoughts would be enough to exhaust anyone. Who knew that would also be the case after death?

“Why would you let me do that again?”

Duncan was wary. On one hand, he was tempted to take up the offer. But this didn’t seem to be an offer made from the goodness of her heart. From the past year, he’d come to realise that Freyja rarely did anything seemingly selfless without some kind of underlying motive. That or she was just bored, and he didn’t know which one worried him more.

Freyja shrugged. “Why not? Besides, I’m curious. I want to know if the theory about cars and drivers is right. I have two conditions though. One, that you get out before we hit port. Two, if you’re somehow able to cart my body around, don’t lose my blanket or any of my other stuff . That includes money. I’m on a budget.”

With that, Freyja dropped her backpack onto her lap and hugged her knees up towards her chin, enveloping herself in the blanket. She watched and waited for Duncan’s response.

He was grabbing at his own sleeves, unsure about what to do. It was strange to see him look so uncomfortable, and he was silent for so long that Freyja regretted ever making the offer.

“Hey, forget it-“

“I don’t even know if I can do it again.” Duncan started, rubbing his arm. “But - I want to try.

“Alright?”

“And I don’t want you watching me.”

Freyja nodded. “Fair enough.” She slumped a little further down on the seat and closed her eyes.

Duncan shut his eyes as well, and took an un-necessary deep breath. He took a moment to steel himself, then peeked out of one eye. Freyja’s eyes were still closed, but her legs were jiggling under the blanket. Impatience or anticipation? Hard to tell.

Screwing both eyes shut, he flew forward, meeting a sudden feeling of warmth followed by a shiver up his spine. Gasping, Duncan opened his eyes. He brushed a silver fringe out of his face. Seated in the deck chair now, he observed the world from this borrowed body. Steadying his breath, he closed his eyes, focusing on each new sense in turn.

Now, having spent more than a few moments in this body, he could also feel Freyja’s consciousness at the back of his mind, and it was slipping steadily towards sleep.

Well, she was right about two things. One, he could definitely feel the exhaustion from this body. It was a wonder she kept going this long. He could feel his eyelids drooping, try as he might to keep them open.

Two, this blanket was undoubtedly warm enough to keep out the winter chill. It was heavy though, weighing down on his body. Not that he minded, it was a comforting weight, like being held in a warm embrace.

He pulled the blanket up to his ears, slowly breathing in the salty sea breeze, feeling the gusts of winter wind across his face. Wrapping his arms around himself, he allowed the sounds of the sea to lull him to sleep.

---

The sounds of screaming (laughing?) children running across the deck jolted both Freyja and Duncan awake, with the latter being suddenly ejected from the former’s body, practically hurtling over the railing.

“Are we there?”

Duncan reeled himself back in on deck before taking a look ahead. “Not far off, the port’s further inland.”

“Ok, ok that’s good.” Freyja rubs sleep from her eyes, stretching herself out. “You have a good rest?”

Duncan turned his head sharply in Freyja’s direction, ready to catch any hint of mockery. But if she was being anything other than genuine, he couldn’t tell by her face. “it was fine.” He answered.

Freyja wandered over to the railing next to Duncan, carefully bundling up her blanket to avoid tripping. He waited for her to interrogate him about the possession, but she didn’t press further. She didn’t even look at him. Rather, she kept her gaze fixed on the water’s edge, taking in the sights. “Can’t wait to see the city.”

Again, Duncan tried to gauge Freyja’s tone. Was she being serious? Sure, a relatively neutral zone like the city centre was nice enough by comparison, but surely she knew the state of things once you ventured past the ring of steel. “You keep up with Muggle news, right?”

“If you’re talking about the situation over here, then yes, I’m aware.”

“I kept up with the news while I could, and I wrote to Gran while I was away as well. But I get the feeling she downplayed a lot of the stuff that happened when I wasn’t there.” Duncan shifted his gaze towards the approaching port. “Now I haven’t been able to write or keep up with the news since ... you know. But I can’t imagine things are much better than when I last came here.”

Freyja took a deep breath before answering. “It’s not the kind of thing that just blows over in a few years.”

“You know what was ironic though?” Duncan let out a mirthless laugh. “My parents told me it would be safer here with my Gran.”

Freyja frowned, but didn’t say anything. Duncan continued. “You know the First Wizarding War started not long after I was born? My family was scared shitless, and they didn’t even see the worst of the attacks, if you can imagine. Muggles were copping the worst of it at that time, and not just from the Death Eaters.”

Duncan’s jaw clenched, and he appeared to be gripping the railing tightly. “sometimes I don’t think my family ever stopped to consider what was happening outside their magical little bubble. Hell, they barely even paid attention to me until I started at Hogwarts. Then they saw that I could be a valuable, contributing member of the magical community.”

The children from before came running and laughing past them again, momentarily filling the silence that had fallen.

“Whether I was at home with my parents or with my Gran, it made no difference to me, safety-wise. There was no escaping what was happening out there. It’s funny - it all seemed so normal, I thought everyone’s childhood was like that. I guess if you never knew any different, you didn’t realise just how messed up it was. “

“By the time the Wizarding War ended, I was already at Hogwarts. I hadn’t been allowed to see Gran since First year. When we heard that You-Know-Who had been defeated, the first thing I did was run off to write a letter to my Gran telling her it was over. Asking if I could come over again.”

“But she said the same thing she’d been saying since I was 11. Not now, we’ll wait til it’s safer.” Duncan sniffed, his expression darkening. “It probably killed her to know that after all the effort she put into protecting me here, I died in a fucking explosion anyway...”

Oh God, things weren’t meant to get this heavy. Freyja had been silently pleading for him to stop talking. But it just kept coming, and she could say nothing. But what could she possibly have said? What input could she have given?

Like Jacob, Duncan’s childhood had been constantly shadowed by the War. Unlike Jacob however, Duncan was unfortunate enough to be caught between two different conflicts from two different worlds. It must have been confusing for him as a small child - not knowing where one finished and the other began.

Freyja racked her brains for something appropriate to say, when the arrival announcement sounded, alerting passengers to gather their belongings and prepare to disembark. Grateful for the interruption, she quickly moved back from the railing and started to fold up her blanket to pack it away.

She stopped mid-fold and ventured a look back at Duncan. He hadn’t moved from the rail, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

“Duncan, I -“

“Don’t bother hurting yourself trying to squeeze out an emotion, that’s not what I was going for.” Duncan turned to face her, his usual fed-up expression back in place. “But I do want to say that... I appreciate what you’re doing. I know Belfast isn’t exactly one of the top tourist destinations for Christmas right now.”

Freyja nodded in acknowledgment, continuing to pack up her blanket.

“Are you scared?” Duncan asked.

Her head snapped up, fixing Duncan with a stern gaze. She tightened the loops on her backpack with a little more force than necessary, and swung it over her shoulder. “An outsider walking into a decades-old sectarian conflict? Should I be scared?”

“Outsider or not makes no difference if you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time. You’d be stupid to not be scared.”

Bristling, Freyja jammed her hands into her jacket pockets. She knew perfectly well that being from out of town wasn’t going to be her get-out-jail-free card. She knew that waving her wand around wasn’t going to be any help if she was outnumbered. But part of her just wanted to know if she could do this. A stupid, selfish, insecure part of herself. The same part that reared it’s ugly head when Jacob once again dismissed her as some sort of unnecessary baggage in the Portrait Vault last summer.

“And I know you’re not stupid. Bloody Ravenclaw, and all.”

“My stupidity runs deep, don’t let the blue and bronze fool you.” Freyja grimaced, studiously avoiding eye contact. “but I’m not so stupid to believe that this is going to be a walk in the park.”

The other passengers were filing past now, a more insistent cue for the two of them to get moving. It took two shoulder collisions to bring Freyja out of her reverie, and shake her head clear of nagging doubts. She looked up at Duncan and gave him a decisive nod.

“Come on. We’ll make sure the only one of us who gets back to Hogwarts dead is me, ok? There’s no way I’m sharing my bathroom with you for the rest of eternity.”

---

#hogwarts mystery #duncan ashe #hphm mc #freyja young #this one’s really long I’m so sorry 😂😂#it’s gets a little heavy #but this is where we start kinda getting into Duncan’s head and I didn’t want to cut more out #it’s a bit more comprehensive than my last two to be fair #probably the first thing I’ve uploaded where I’ve put more effort into the text than the pic #the next art I post will definitely be something a little more positive or silly #don’t shoot me I haven’t written this much since uni #Duncan SQ

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clonemando · 4 years ago

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Had a bad day and am stressed out so I wrote some Father/Son Jaster and Jango hurt comfort to make me feel a little better. Please enjoy!

Jango hasn't been eating like he should after hearing rations are low and Jaster isn't pleased to find out.

Jango smiled as he sat next to one of the foundlings being looked after by the Ha'at after the last campaign and offered them a second bowl of tiingilar. "Shh, just a secret between us." He said with a wink at them when their expression lit up amd he took the empty bowl in exchange. Jaster couldn't know he had been giving his portions away or he'd be furious but Jango knew what it was like to be new and hungry and too scared to ask for food. Especially when their rations were as low as they were at current. Death Watch was targeting any settlement that traded with Haat they could find and it was leading more and more to turn them away and refuse to trade with them. That with all the crop burning and more foundlings being left behind with no where else to go meant slim pickings for food. Jango was older than most of the others. He was used to missing meals while out on the field with Jaster. Plus the less he ate the easier it got to ignore the slight pains of hunger that would occasionally pop up. It was fine. He wasn't starving himself. He still ate midmeal. He just only at midmeal and whatever snacks Jaster occasionally would share with him.

He got up and walked around to another new kid and snuck them a ration bar that was supposed to he for his breakfast. They smiled at him in thanks and he nodded back before heading to turn in the empty dish.

"You finished that off fast Alor'ika! We should enter you in a competition." Bari said with a bright grin that showed off some fangs she had inherited through mixed genetics. She looked mostly human but so did most Mandalorians, years of adopting any species or race into their own had played with all of their DNA in weird ways. Jango himself was certainly some sort of mash of things as well but it's never really mattered since he was human enough.

"I guess the mission earlier just really had me hungry. I'm all filled up now though. Delicious as I expect from the best cook in the camp." he said kindly but she just raised a brow.

"You really are Jaster's ad with a tongue that smooth Alor'ika. Speaking of which, I haven't seen your buir yet. Take him his portion for me? He's probably still going over those maps." She asked handing him another full bowl and Jango nodded.

"Of course. Honestly how he got anything done before I was here to remind him life exists is a mystery." He chuckled and headed back towards his father's room getting nods from a few verd as he passed them. He felt good about his position. He wasn't cocky enough to think he was special or anything like that but he hot along easily with the other Haat'ade and most seemed to think he belonged with Jaster. It felt nice to be wanted and to have other people confirm his place with them. Even if he didn't become Mand'alor after Jaster, he'd always belong there.

"Buir! Bari sent me with your food. You get lost in that romance novel again?" He asked teasingly as he set the bowl down on Jaster's desk after clearing some space.

Jaster jumped a little in his chair glasses askew on his face before he relaxed at the sight of his son. "I actually think I fell asleep after calling a few more friends to make sure Tor hasn't bothered them." He admitted ruffling Jango's hair fondly and picking up the bowl and sniffling the stew inside.

"Mmm. This smells great. Bari really is a miracle on this whole operation. Only she could manage Tiingilar on such a meager budget." He chuckled and Jango nodded.

"Yeah. It's great! She's an amazing cook." He said clearing his throat when his stomach growled at him to cover the sound.

Jaster took a few bites while Jango looked over the list of numbers Jaster had been going through.

"Hmmm, something about this tastes different." He said after a while and Jango hummed absently.

"She said earlier that she ran out of the normal spice paste she used and started using Clan Rook's stuff instead." Jango said surprised when Jaster choked on his bite causing him to pat Jaster's back.

"Clan Rook's? Are you sure? And you ate it?" Jaster asked eyes fluttering over Jango with concern.

"Of course! It's not like I'm going to turn down Tiingilar! What are you scared Clan Rook is out to poison me or something?" Jango asked playfully though he was trying to understand what had Jaster so upset.

"Jango... Clan Rook uses vash nut powder in their spice mix." He pointed out and Jango winced. Right. Of course they did. And he just happened to be extremely allergic to that particular nut.

"Well... I... Actually wasn't that hungry tonight and didn't want to worry you. I'm sorry Buir. I shouldn't have lied about it. I'm fine though. It's a good thing too it seems since it saved us me swelling up and needing to go to medical." He tried to joke but Jaster was staring at him with a considering gaze now that made him uncomfortable.

"Well you still have your breakfast rations right? You can have that tonight and I'll talk to Bari and make sure there's no more surprises like that again." He offered and Jango reached into the empty pocket head ducking.

"I... uh... I don't have my breakfast ration anymore buir." He said letting his hair fall forward to hide his eyes feeling heat burning his face in shame.

"What happened to it? Did you drop it?" Jaster asked and Jango cleared his throat as his stomach growled again but this time there was no hiding it.

"I'm really not hungry Buir! Really. I'm fine." Jango said knowing he couldn't lie and especially not to Jaster.

"Jango, what's going on? Why aren't you eating? Are you feeling sick?" Jaster asked setting his bowl aside to feel Jango's forehead but Jango pushed his hand aside.

"No... I just... gave it to the foundlings. They need it more. Many are too nervous to speak up and rations are low right now. I don't mind. When things pick up again I'll eat more. I promise." he admitted quietly.

"Jango... why didn't you say anything? You... How many meals have you been skipping? How long?" Jaster asked looking concerned.

"I've been giving away my breakfast rations and late meal. I still eat with you obviously. It's enough. I'm used to it. It doesn't even hurt anymore." He said quickly then regretted it.

"Anymore?! It doesn't hurt anymore? Oh no. No no no. Come on." Jaster stood and grabbed his arm gently but firm enough he couldn't jerk it away easily and started dragging him out of the room.

"Buir! Buir wait! You're overreacting! It's really fine! Some of the verd were even impressed by how good I'm looking!" He said and Jaster almost growled.

"Looks don't matter! None of that matters! You haven't been eating Jango! You're a child! If anyone should he cutting portions it would be the adults and even that there are ways to manage it so we all take turns so no one misses meals the way you have. If you had just said something I could have been giving you extra breakfast rations to give to the others if they're too nervous to ask. You shouldn't have been starving yourself! Do you have any idea how it feels to hear you talking like this? Like you deserve to eat less for some reason? You're my son and I've failed you by not even noticing you were doing this to yourself. I thought maybe the weight loss was because of a growth spurt coming on. I never had an ad before but you... You've been hurting yourself. We're going to medical. They're going to run tests and we're going to figure out how badly you've thrown your diet out of whack. Hopefully not too badly. Then we're eating every meal together until I'm certain I can trust you again." Jaster ranted and Jango just stared at the floor fighting tears. He had just wanted to help.

Jaster took a deep breath and let it out. "Jango, ner ad, you are a good boy with a good heart. But you matter just as much as the new foundlings, you know that right?" he asked more gently as he knelt and tipped Jango's face back up.

"Of course I do. But I'm going to be a leader one day and I have to make sure that our people are all taken care of first. You would have done the same thing!" He argued feeling the tears start to spill down his cheeks and hating it. Being eleven sucked.

Jaster wiped the tears away with his thumb. "Jango, if that was true why am I still eating normally? We have plenty of food Jango. Yes it's a little tight, but nothing to where you need to skip out on everything besides midmeal. And I'm your leader. So, again, it would be me or the other adults, who would be responsible for figuring out how to ration. Which we would need you to be honest about how much you need to eat to be able to do. You're my son. I love you and want you to be living a happy healthy life. Something not hurting anymore, is not a sign of you being happy and healthy. It should never hurt to begin with. You're not in trouble. I'm not mad. I'm scared and upset with myself for not noticing and fixing this sooner." He murmured more calmly and Jango wrapped him in an embrace he eagerly returned.

"Do you promise to actually eat all the meals I give you and tell me if you or anyone else needs extra from now on?" Jaster asked and Jango nodded from where his face was tucked into Jaster's shoulder.

"Good. Then let's get you examined and then I think we both deserve a treat tonight. After you eat a proper latemeal." He said firmly but lifted Jango up and carried him to medical.

#star wars #jango fett #jaster mereel #fanfic #star wars open seasons #young Jango #tw food scarcity #Jaster is a good dad #Jango is a good son #Being at war is hard

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quickspinner · 4 years ago

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Haste to the Wedding

Here’s my fic for the @lukanette-exchange, for @misslenamooney! I hope you like it! The prompts were “Lukanette, happy Marinette, and if you’re feeling a bit salty, you can salt on Alya and Lila.“ I only have the faintest sprinkling of salt here, more like an echo of the past than anything else, but it was a convenient frame for the story. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! This will be up on AO3 later today.

Come haste to the wedding ye friends and ye neighbours The lovers their bliss can no longer delay. Forget all your sorrows your cares and your labors, And let every heart beat with rapture today. ~ Haste to the Wedding, traditional Gaelic jig.

“Oh, Marinette, it’s so perfect,” Alya breathed, bouncing slightly and then stilling before Marinette could reprimand her. The gown was lovely, the white lace making beautiful patterns against Alya’s darker skin where Marinette had left it open, and forming a more subtle texture in the areas where the dress was lined for modesty. It skimmed Alya’s body beautifully before flaring in a subtle trumpet shape towards the bottom, with just enough train in the back to form a nice shape on the ground behind her. All in all, Marinette felt very satisfied with it. Sophisticated and strong enough for the tough reporter, with a touch of the whimsy and fantasy that one expected in a wedding dress.

Alya was glowing with happiness, and Marinette smiled absently as she selected another pin from a cushion on her wrist. They’d grown apart a bit, going to different lycées and both traveling extensively for their careers, so they didn’t get to see each other often and sometimes didn’t speak directly for months at a time, but they were still good friends, and when Alya had called and asked Marinette to personally design her wedding dress, there was no question of saying no. Marinette had even hesitantly offered to work with Alya on the wedding planning, since she’d be in Paris much more than Alya over the coming months, but somewhat to her relief, Alya had dismissed her offer, telling her she’d run into another old friend who was starting up a wedding planning business and that she was taking care of everything. Marinette wasn’t sorry to be exempted from the planning (and also from bridesmaid duties, since Alya had decided to have only her sisters attend her).

Now she need only worry about the dress, which Alya of course insisted only Marinette could do. Alya had opted for a crisp white pantsuit look for the civil ceremony at City Hall, saving her wedding dress for the fancifully American-style wedding reception they had planned for the next day.

Despite her faith in her friend, Alya had been a bit nervous, Marinette could tell, about having most of their consultations long-distance, but Marinette was used to it, and she had treated Alya like any of her several high-profile clients that couldn’t always meet with her in person. Marinette’s professionalism and smooth process had seemed to soothe Alya’s worries, and they had managed a couple of in-person meetups for the most critical stages.

The only thing that had given Marinette pause was the idea of not having a final fitting until the day before the wedding, but it really couldn’t be helped. Marinette preferred to have multiple redundant contingency plans and plenty of time to implement them. She’d had several mini-meltdowns at the very idea of a huge last-minute problem, and had actually been in the middle of one when Alya walked in the door, fresh from the civil ceremony and glowing with happiness and excitement. The irrational panic that Alya wouldn’t like the dress had melted away as soon as Alya caught sight of it and let out a deafening squeal, and once the dress was on, it became apparent that Marinette’s assistant had been right in telling her to have more faith in her own skill. The dress was nearly perfect. No emergencies, no last minute creative fixes, no (or at least, no more than usual) stress. Marinette only had to pin the hem to the final length for Alya’s shoes and finish it that night, and it would be ready for tomorrow.

She just had to endure Alya’s teasing until then. “Marinette, come on, spill,” the bride urged. “I know something’s going on with you and Luka since he got back from his tour. I just want to know what it is!”

“So do I,” Marinette muttered, selecting another pin from the cushion on her wrist. “I don’t know, Alya, we’ve been flirting a lot and there’s been...I mean, he’s always been a touchy-feely person, so I don’t know if it means anything—”

“Girl, when it comes to you Luka has always meant something and you know it.”

Marinette blushed, but she couldn’t deny it. Luka had never pressed his admiration on her but he never hid it, either, and Marinette had never been unaffected by it. Busy as they were with their own careers, both made it a point to make time to see each other whenever the two of them were in the same city, and the meetings were always comfortable, enjoyable, brief, and just on the edge of flirtatious, charged with potential they never had time to explore. Since he’d come back from his tour and she’d actually managed to be in town for a few months consecutively, they’d met up a few times now (more than a few) and it was—it was so fun, and Luka was so sweet and smooth and it felt so good to be the center of someone’s attention, and they’d always had so much chemistry together, and she was really starting to think that maybe—

Focus, she thought, sticking some pins in her mouth as an excuse not to speak. Fortunately, Alya’s mind was too focused on the wedding to pester Marinette for long.

“We thought about asking if he could play the wedding, but I know it’s not normally his thing, and my friend said she had some other options, and boy, did she! And how amazing will it be to have Jagged Stone playing the reception? It’ll be huge for Nino, for people to know he has enough connections to get someone that big to play—Marinette? Are you okay?”

Marinette’s head had snapped up to stare wide-eyed at Alya, and she was completely frozen now, a sick feeling forming in her stomach. Slowly she took the pins out of her mouth, sitting back on her heels as she looked up at Alya. “Alya,” Marinette began hesitantly. “Jagged’s in Greece. He has three back to back shows scheduled over the next three nights, and two more shortly after. There’s no way he’s going to be in Paris tomorrow.”

Alya’s mouth dropped open slightly, and then she laughed. “That can’t be right, Marinette! He’s been booked for the wedding for six months!”

“Six months?” Marinette echoed, her brows coming together as that sick feeling got worse. “Alya, Jagged’s schedule is booked out for two years at least.”

“Well yeah, for normal people.” Alya flapped a hand dismissively. “But Lila said—” She paused and bit her lip. “I mean—for you know, people with connections…” but she trailed off as Marinette laid her pins aside and stood up.

“You let Lila book the band for your wedding?” Marinette demanded, and then at Alya’s guilty look, she sucked in a horrified breath. “Lila is your old friend that’s in the wedding planning business?”

“See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you,” Alya sighed, twisting her hands together. “I know you guys never got along and I knew you’d be mad.”

“Mad isn’t the word I would use,” Marinette sighed, pacing the floor and pulling at her hair. “Alya, how much of the wedding did Lila book?”

“Almost all of it,” Alya shrugged. “My mom got us the venue and she’s doing the catering, and I insisted on having you do my dress, but Lila booked everything else.” She smiled dreamily. “It’s going to be beautiful, Marinette, she got so many incredible things and her budget was so reasonable. Her business is really going to take off after everybody sees how well she’s done. I was a little nervous, but I knew she could pull it off.”

Marinette just stared at her for a moment, her lips in a firm line, and then she pulled out her phone. “Just a minute, Alya,” she muttered, and dialed. It went to voicemail, as she expected. “Hey, Penny, this is Marinette. I was um, working on a project that I wanted Jagged to see, and since I hear he’s going to be in Paris tomorrow, I was hoping he could make some time for me. No pressure, just, if he’s available. Please let me know either way.”

She hung up the phone and put it back in her pocket, trying to keep her face neutral. “Alya,” she said quietly, “What did Lila book for you?”

Alya shrugged. “Everything except the dress, which of course had to be you, the food, which of course had to be my mom, and the venue, which we already had reserved through one of my mom’s contacts. Flowers—oh, you should have seen the pictures she sent me they were to die for—favors for the guests, the band obviously, the cake—she tried to get your parents but they were booked solid and we agreed we shouldn’t bother you about it—the makeup and hair and photographer, from all that modeling she’s done you know, and the decorations.”

Marinette took a deep breath and sat down in a chair, covering her mouth with her hands. This was going to be a disaster. Alya’s wedding was going to be a disaster. Oh, the important stuff was still there, at least no one would go hungry and they weren’t going to have hundreds of guests descend on some poor bewildered staff person demanding to be let in to a wedding that didn’t exist. Alya and Nino were already legally married and they could still—

“Lila doesn’t have the rings, right?” Marinette demanded, looking up sharply.

“No, Nino does,” Alya frowned, putting her hands on her hips. “Marinette, what is your problem?”

Marinette got up and swatted Alya’s hands away from the fabric irritably. “Don’t, you’ll soil it. My problem is that Lila has never delivered on a single thing she promised you. Have you actually talked to any of these people yourself?”

“No, but Lila and I have been talking every week and she sent me pictures and samples and she did all the consultations. I didn’t have to worry about a thing!”

Marinette moaned, tossing her head back. “You never confirmed anything she booked?”

Alya rolled her eyes. “She sent me invoices for all of them! I can show you the check stubs if you’re that upset about it.”

“You wrote checks?” Marinette gasped. Charges on a credit card they might have been able to dispute, but—okay, no, this was too much. She’d worry about that part later. “Did you sign a contract with her?”

Alya scoffed. “Of course not, we’re friends.”

Marinette pressed her lips together and folded her arms and reminded herself that Nino would be upset if she strangled his bride the night before the wedding. “We’re friends,” she pointed out tightly, gesturing between herself and Alya. “I still made you sign a contract.”

Alya rolled her eyes. “Well, you’ve always been anal like that.”

“Anal like—” Marinette stopped, turning her back for a second to breathe, and before she could formulate a response her phone beeped with an incoming video message.

She set it to play on speaker. “Hi, Marinette,” Penny Rolling said, looking pristine as always despite the chaos behind her. “Always great to hear from you! Unfortunately it seems like there’s been some kind of misunderstanding? Jagged’s not scheduled to be in Paris again for two more months. I know he’d want to see what you’re working on, so text me later and we can work out a video call instead. So sorry for the mixup. Talk to you soon.”

Marinette looked up at Alya, who was doing a credible impression of a fish.

“That’s just—okay, so there was a misunderstanding, you’ve told me how Jagged is, I’m sure—maybe he forgot to tell Penny and she didn’t put it on his calendar, but it’s just one thing, there’s no need to—”

“Alya.” Marinette met her friend’s gaze steadily and Alya cut off, seeming to shrink a little. “This is your wedding. Do you really want to take the chance?”

Alya just stared at her.

“Call the florist first,” Marinette said calmly. Too calmly, she knew, but she also knew that Alya was finally listening, because the color drained from her face and she began fumbling for her phone.

Not bothering to wait for the outcome, Marinette pulled out her sketchbook and flipped to a fresh page, making a list down the page as she frantically thought about her options. In a few moments she had a plan sketched out and was dialing her own phone.

“Adrien,” Marinette bit out as soon as he picked up. “Did you know that Nino and Alya’s wedding planner was Lila?”

There was a good thirty seconds of silence on the other end of the line before Adrien breathed, “Oh no. No, I didn’t know, it never even occurred to me to…what are we going to do, Marinette?”

“We’re going to fix this disaster so our friends can have the wedding they deserve,” Marinette said as if it was simple. “You’re on photography and flowers. I know you hate trading on your name and your contacts but so help me, you better use every ounce of fame you have to get this done—”

“I’ll do it,” Adrien said quickly. “I’ll do it. And count on me to cover the cost of whatever else you need to get. Whatever premium you have to promise.”

“I’ll hold you do that,” Marinette told him, and then glanced over her shoulder. An increasingly panicked-looking Alya wasn’t even paying attention to her. “And call Nino and tell him he better get back here now. Thanks, chaton.”

“You can always count on me, my lady. So can Alya and Nino.”

“All right, I’ll call if I need anything else.” She hung up the phone and dialed again.

“Hi, boss,” a chipper voice greeted her.

“Sabrina,” Marinette sighed, unable to match her assistant’s cheerful tone. “Listen, there’s been a problem with Alya’s wedding and I need you to ransack the warehouse for decorations. Anything that we might use for a wedding photoshoot. And start calling any stylist and makeup artist who’s ever done well for us and get them on board to do wedding hair and makeup tomorrow. I know it’s short notice but we need somebody on board in a hurry. Money is no object. Adrien’s footing the bill so if you need a credit card or something, call him. He’ll be expecting you.”

“Colors?” Sabrina asked, and Marinette smiled at the brusque tone and lack of questioning. She’d been nervous when Sabrina had called her looking for a job, having been fired (again) by Chloe, but taking her on was going on Marinette’s list of best management decisions ever. Sabrina was a huge asset to Marinette’s successful and growing business, and the only assistant Marinette had ever hired that was detail-oriented and organized enough to keep up with her.

“Orange, mint, and forest green,” she replied, making a note on her list to text that to Adrien as well for the florist. “Just have the guys pile it all in the van and we’ll sort through it when we get there. Grab whatever you can find in the scrap fabrics, too. I’m not sure it’ll be much but we’ll work with whatever we can have.” She paused. “Sabrina, this is a personal favor, not a job, but I—”

“Got it, boss,” Sabrina chirped. “Text me the address and what time the venue opens, and I’ll meet you in the morning.”

“Thanks, Sabrina,” Marinette smiled, making a mark on her list.

Next, she called her mother, made Sabine put her on speaker so that Tom could hear, and begged shamelessly, using every “Papa’s little girl” trick she could think of to get them on board. Naturally, Tom couldn’t refuse. Marinette felt guilty for putting that much work on them but she’d find a way to make it up to them later.

Looking at the next item on her list, she hesitated. She set her phone down and pressed her hands to her face, and then looked back down at the list, feeling her face heat. She knew what she needed to do—she knew who she needed to call, but…

She glanced up at Alya, who was sitting motionless in her chair, the phone in her lap, staring into space with a blank expression that was...bad. On Alya, it was really bad.

Marinette took a deep breath and dialed the phone. She put a hand over her racing heart and pressed as if that would stop the fluttering.

“Hey, beautiful,” a warm, deep voice said, and Marinette smiled in spite of herself. “Didn’t think I’d hear from you today. Figured you’d be busy.”

“H-hey, Luka,” she said, and swallowed, hating the stutter. “I—well, I am busy, but I—that is, I mean—argh.” She groaned, and pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. God, she hated to do this. “I need a favor,” she said through gritted teeth, and then sighed. “A big one. Huge. A really big, I-have-no-right-to-ask-you-this-sized favor.”

“I’m listening,” Luka said, unruffled as always, a touch of amusement in his voice.

“So, the wedding,” Marinette took a breath and blew it out. “Well, long story short, the band fell through. A lot of things fell through, actually, and we’re really scrambling to fix everything and I know this is super, super short notice and I won’t blame you one bit if you tell me to jump ship, but—but this is really important to me, Luka, and I...I…”

“You want me to find you a band in less than twenty-four hours?” Luka asked incredulously.

“W-well,” Marinette cringed, fisting the fabric of her skirt in her hand. “I was sort of hoping you’d be the band? Not that I don’t trust you, I’m sure anybody you could get would be great, but you’re amazing, and I really need amazing for this. This—I can’t explain everything but this is not going to be the wedding Nino and Alya had counted on and I really, really need it to be the best we can possibly give them, and you’re definitely the best, so—please, Luka, I’m begging, I’ll do anything, Adrien’s covering all the expenses and we’ll come up with a number to make it worth it for you and anyone you can bring with you, and I’m sure there’s going to be industry contacts there because of Nino, and I just—”

“Marinette,” Luka said firmly, and she shut her mouth abruptly.

“Yes?” she ventured, when Luka didn’t say anything more.

“What time do you need me to be there?” he asked, and she could hear his smile. “I’m not sure if I can get the rest of the guys, or even subs, it might just be me—”

“You’re more than enough,” Marinette assured him, and then blushed. “I mean. Well. You are. Anyway, I, um...I’ll text you the details and you let me know how it turns out with the others.”

“Yeah, sure. Be sure and send me anything they wanted as far as the set list. First dance and all that.” He chuckled. “I haven’t played many weddings but I remember that much at least.”

“Okay,” Marinette said, glancing aside as the door opened and Nino came through, expression worried. “I’ll probably have Nino get in touch with you directly about that stuff. I’m so sorry to ask this of you, Luka, I...I feel like I’m taking advantage…”

“Marinette,” Luka’s voice was velvety, rich and alluring, and despite the situation it sent a shiver down her spine. “You can take advantage of me any time you want.”

Mairnette scrunched her shoulders as a fierce blush spread over her face. “Luka,” she whined, and he laughed.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he told her, still in that voice. “Save a dance for me.”

The call cut off and Marinette dropped the phone in her lap, dropped her head in her hands, and squealed softly.

Okay. Plenty of time later to think about her complicated relationship with the guitarist and how much she’d been wondering lately if kissing him stupid would uncomplicate it or make it worse. For now, Alya was coming out of her catatonic state, Marinette’s phone was already blowing up with texts from Adrien and Sabrina and her mother, and she had a disaster to mitigate.

At least that was something she was good at. She picked up her notebook and marched over to Alya and Nino.

***

It could have been worse, Marinette reflected with satisfaction as she looked around the party hall. Sabrina was a miracle worker, and that was a fact. Resourceful and much more ruthless than her (current) employer, she knew how to use her contacts and how to trade on Adrien’s name and wealth to get things done. Marinette only hoped they hadn’t screwed anyone over too badly.

“You know it’s bad form to outshine the bride at her wedding,” said a deep voice in her ear, and Marinette jumped and whirled to smack Luka in the shoulder as he laughed. She pouted and shook her finger in his face. “No flirting until after your set.”

“All right,” he chuckled, catching her hand and bringing it down gently as he smiled at her. “You’re the boss today.” His thumb rubbed over the back of her hand in a way that made his words a lie. “Where should we set up?”

“We?” Marinette blinked, her mouth dropping open slightly as she finally tore her eyes from Luka to look over his shoulder, where three other people stood with instrument cases and bored expressions.

“I called in some favors,” he grinned. “I’ll probably be playing dive bars and who knows what else for weeks to pay this back, but...anything for you, Marinette.”

She should have scolded him for flirting again, but she couldn’t because she knew that he meant it. He was only laying it on so thick now because she’d been flirting back and encouraging him over the last few weeks, and when he looked at her like that, well...she had a hard time being sorry.

Luka raised his eyebrows slightly and she realized he was still waiting for an answer to his question. He was still rubbing her hand with his thumb, though, too, and Marinette whipped her hand away and turned on her heel, calling “Follow me.”

“Anywhere,” he said softly behind her, and she bit her lip, trying not to giggle like a teenager.

Once she had led him to the stage and the sound system, he sobered a bit, clearly settling into professional mode as he gave his bandmates instructions for setting up. Marinette hovered while he checked the stage lights and asked for some adjustments. The venue staff accommodated him with admirable speed. Marinette was called away for a bit to consult with the frazzled, tired-but-triumphant florist and figure out how best to distribute what they had managed to acquire. She was surprised at how much there was. A lot of it was white but it was tastefully mixed with the orange and pale green blossoms. It would do, distributed correctly.

When she returned, the band was set up and tuning up for their sound check. Marinette checked the time nervously.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be ready,” Luka’s normally soft voice boomed through the sound system, and she jumped slightly. She looked up to find him at the microphone, guitar slung across his shoulders, and as he tossed back his hair and smiled at her, she was reminded of the boy from the boat, Juleka’s brother, the boy who gave her rides on his bike and smiled at her with soft eyes and played songs that resonated in her heart.

Almost as if he could hear her, his hands went to the strings, but it wasn’t her heart that he played this time. She recognized the intro to Alya and Nino’s first dance song, though it sounded more vibrant with Luka’s distinctive rock edge. It would be perfect for them, she noted absently. Luka’s eyes found her again and he smirked. Marinette was barely aware of the drums picking up the rhythm and the bass coming in a bit late as Luka took a breath and sang, low and smooth, his eyes on her.

“What would I do without your smart mouth, drawing me in and you kicking me out, you’ve got my head spinning, no kidding, I can’t pin you down. What’s going on in that beautiful mind? I’m on your magical mystery ride, and I’m so dizzy, don’t know what hit me, but I’ll be all right.”

He dropped his eyes, and Marinette thought he might be blushing as he launched into the chorus. She put a hand over her heart and sighed at the way it beat against her hand as she closed her eyes to listen to him singing All of me loves all of you…

It gave her goosebumps. Luka wasn’t Jagged Stone, and he didn’t try to be. His voice was so rich and full it seemed to fill the space and make everything sound closer and more intimate.

He cut off abruptly and stepped back, motioning his bandmates to cut off. “Okay, can we bring the bass up just a little bit?” The guy working the sound waved an acknowledgement, and they played the lead-in again. This time Luka nodded in satisfaction, and then turned back to ask his bandmates something Marinette couldn’t hear.

They ran through parts of a few other of the more important songs, and Marinette was more and more impressed at the way Luka managed to fit the songs to his own style, without changing the substance.

When he was satisfied with the way everything sounded, they all put the instruments in their stands and came down off the stage.

Luka opened his mouth to say something but Marinette raised up on her toes, took his face in her hands and kissed him briefly on the mouth. “Thank you so much for doing this,” she told him. “You’re really my hero today.”

He licked his lips, and made a visible effort to drag his gaze from her mouth to her eyes, but they flicked right back again when Marinette bit her lip again to keep in another fit of giggles that wanted to burst from her. He always had that effect on her. She patted his cheek. “I have to go check on Alya, but I’ll catch up with you in a bit, okay?”

“Sure,” he managed finally, and cleared his throat as she turned away. She got a few steps away before he called her name and she turned back.

“You really do look beautiful,” he said simply, and Marinette blushed, hands going automatically to smooth her simple pink and mint cocktail dress.

“Thanks, Luka,” she said, watching his eyes follow the slight shrug of her bare shoulders. “You look really good too. I like your usual look, but you clean up nicely too.” She winked at him. “Don’t forget you promised me a dance after your set.”

Luka’s mouth dropped open slightly and he looked a bit as if he’d been hit in the back of the head with a board. Marinette tossed her hair and blew him a kiss, and if she put a little extra sway in her hips as she walked away, it was just for the sake of making her skirt swish that little bit more.

Behind her, Luka put a hand to his heart and pretended to faint into his bandmate’s arms. “She’s gonna kill me,” he muttered with a happy sigh.

“So long as I get paid first, mate,” his drummer grunted, heaving him off.

***

Alya cried when she saw the hall, despite all the ladies in the group converging on her and begging her not to make her eyes puffy on her big day. In all honesty her eyes were already puffy from the hopeless weeping that had followed her denial and disbelief, but the makeup artist Sabrina found did a masterful job hiding it, and the glow of Alya’s happiness and relief did anything else that was wanted.

It maybe wasn’t the decorations Alya had picked out, or the hairstyle Alya had decided on, or exactly the shade of eyeshadow she had planned on, but it all came together just fine. No one would ever know the disaster the wedding had almost been. Marinette spared a moment to viciously wish that Lila might see the social media pictures of just how lovely it had all turned out in spite of her, before putting the horrible woman out of her mind entirely.

“You’re a miracle worker as always,” Adrien sighed as they paused for a congratulatory fist bump.

“Sabrina gets most of the credit,” Marinette observed. “She did a lot of the legwork, and we for sure wouldn’t have been able to do as much without you backing us. It sure would be nice if I could find the money to put a bonus in her next paycheck.”

Adrien nodded. “How about you overcharge me for a custom suit for the charity ball I have to attend next month?”

“That should do it,” Marinette agreed. “Have your assistant call Sabrina, we’ll set something up.”

“Still,” Adrien said, nudging Marinette with a cat-like grin spreading across his face. “Somehow I doubt Sabrina had much to do with the music for tonight.”

“No, that was Nino,” Marinette replied airily. “He called in a favor with a DJ friend of his that was on the guest list anyway.”

“Uh-huh. And the live music?” Adrien nudged her a little harder and Marinette shoved him off so hard he nearly fell.

“I’m going to check on the cake,” she announced, though she knew her parents had delivered it to Mme Césare’s staff earlier and that they surely knew what they were doing.

The ring ceremony went off without a hitch, with Alya’s sisters at her side and Adrien and Noel at Nino’s, without any hint of the drama that had been going on behind the scenes since yesterday.

And the dress, Marinette noted with satisfaction, looked perfect.

Then Alya and Nino took the dance floor, and Luka took over the mic, and then he was singing again, in that voice that gave her goosebumps. It had been quite a while since she had seen him perform live, and she hadn’t exactly forgotten the way he could command a room, but it still gave her the shivers. She drifted closer and closer to the stage as she moved through the crowd, and then suddenly she was looking up at Luka, and he was looking down at her, and Marinette might have felt self-conscious except that everyone else was locked on Alya and Nino. No one had any attention to notice the way they were looking at each other as Luka sang, “You’re my downfall, you’re my muse, my worst distraction, my rhythm and blues. I can’t stop singing, it’s ringing in my head for you.”

Really, to Marinette, it felt like all those other people weren’t even there.

***

She was looking for him, once the band had wrapped up and the DJ had taken over, and he still managed to come up from behind and surprise her.

“Is now a good time for that dance?”

“Luka, stop sneaking up on me,” Marinette scolded, turning to find him grinning down at her once again.

“I’m not even sorry,” he told her, chuckling as he held out his hand. “May I?”

Marinette rolled her eyes, but she was grinning as she put her hand in his and let him guide her onto the dance floor, where his broad, warm hands settled on her waist as her own delicate hands joined behind his neck.

“You did an awesome job up there,” Marinette told him as they swayed. “Really. Jagged Stone himself couldn’t have done better.”

Luka snorted. “As if Jagged could ever contain himself enough to play a wedding. He’d be upstaging the bride every chance that he got.”

“That...is probably true,” Marinette admitted. She loved the rock star, but she was by no means blind to his faults, which included being extremely self-absorbed and a natural attention magnet. It really was better that he hadn’t been here.

She sighed. “I still can’t believe Alya thought Lila could actually deliver on all those promises. I thought after everything—but she did eventually manage to lie her way into some real connections, so I guess maybe she had just enough authenticity to sound credible this time.”

“Don’t think about her,” Luka said softly, whisking her into a turn. “I don’t like the faces you make when you do,” he teased, lifting one hand to stroke the deep crease between her brows. “You pulled it off, Marinette. Look at Alya and Nino. They couldn’t be any happier, so just dance with me and forget about all that mess. What’s on the big calendar for this week, hm? Or should I even ask?”

“Actually, I was wondering if maybe I could take you to dinner,” Marinette said as lightly as she could manage. “As a thank you.”

Luka looked away for a second. “I think you already know I’d love to go out with you, Marinette,” Luka said, his voice serious even though he was still smiling when he looked back at her. “But I’d rather it not be out of pity, or even gratitude. I want you on your own terms.”

Of course he did. That was just...so Luka. Marinette took a deep breath and shifted a little closer to him, letting her fingers drift up to toy with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Okay.”

“Okay?” he repeated, the eyes that had gone half-lidded at her touch snapping open.

“Okay,” Marinette confirmed. “Here’s my terms. I work a lot. My business is very deadline driven and I’m very hands-on with a lot of people as part of the fitting process. It’s entirely professional, entirely necessary, and you have to be okay with it.”

“I can handle that,” Luka agreed, looking as cool as ever, but they were now moving ever so slightly off-beat with the music, so she knew he was rattled.

“I can’t always be home to cook dinner. I might not even be home to eat dinner. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am and in a couple more years I might be able to bring on more staff, but that’s not a guarantee.”

“I’d never ask you to stop pursuing your passion, Marinette,” Luka told her, the corner of his mouth tilting up. “But if you’re not taking care of yourself, if you’re not eating and sleeping enough to at least function, I’m gonna ask you to slow down.”

“Fair,” Marinette acknowledged. “I travel a lot. I’ll be in other cities a lot, on my own, with a lot of clients and models. The tabloids like to stir up trouble and it’s only a matter of time before they have me shacking up with somebody. I expect you to talk to me before you jump to any conclusions.”

“Of course,” he said so simply that she believed him.

Marinette took a deep breath. “Sometimes I have to be places that I can’t explain,” she said softly, no longer looking him in the eye. “I don’t want to have to lie and come up with excuses, so...I need you to just trust me. And if it gets to be too much...I need you to tell me that too, so we can stay friends when we split up.”

“Okay,” Luka said, raising his eyebrows slightly. “Is that all?”

Marinette shrugged and tried to smile. “Mostly, yeah.”

“All right then,” Luka grinned, twirling her around. “I accept your terms. Are you ready to hear mine?”

“O-okay,” Marinette stammered.

“We’re in the same boat on the travel. I work a lot of odd jobs and weird hours,” Luka began. “My schedule’s never the same from week to week. I work a lot of late nights and I hate mornings.”

“Me too,” Marinette giggled. “I think I can live with that. What else?”

“I get hit on kind of a lot,” he said, looking away slightly as a faint hint of red colored his cheeks. “When I play a gig. And this tour was—it was crazy, even though we were just the opening act. Some people get a little handsy. I don’t like it, I don’t ask for it, and it’s got nothing to do with things between us—no matter what it looks like when you walk up. So, same courtesy? Talk to me before you freak out?”

“I don’t freak out as easily as I used to,” Marinette mumbled, blushing herself. “But yeah, I got it. Okay. I don’t really like that people are touching you when you don’t want them to, though. I can’t promise I won’t bend a thumb or two if they’re where they don’t belong.”

“Hmm, we’ll negotiate on that,” Luka chuckled, pinching her waist lightly. “I don’t personally mind but I don’t want my girlfriend getting kicked out of every club in Paris.” He gave her a soft look. “And you would be my girlfriend. I’m not interested in dating around if being with you is an option.”

Marinette blushed harder, but put her nose in the air and pretended to consider. “Hm. That sounds reasonable. Besides, I don’t mind making time for you, but otherwise I’m way too busy to date.” She held her “Chloe face” for another moment and then broke down in giggles, and Luka laughed too, and they collapsed against each other for a moment, Luka’s forehead coming down to rest on hers as they snickered. Marinette closed her eyes, breathing in the peace and contentment she always felt with him, and wondered why they hadn’t had this talk sooner. It felt so...right.

Reluctantly, Marinette pushed him back after a moment, pulling him back into the dance.

“I don’t want to steal Alya’s spotlight,” she murmured, glancing at her glowing friend, floating around the room on her new husband’s arm. “She’s already going to be mad enough we stole her song.”

“Did we?” Luka chuckled, and Marinette grinned.

“I think we did. It sure felt like it to me.”

“Yeah, it did,” Luka sighed. “I should probably be sorry about that. Hopefully everyone else was focused on the bride and groom. But seriously, I think you’ve already kind of stolen the show here. You say you didn’t do much but I was talking to Adrien a bit before.” He shook his head. “You’re amazing. Anyone else would have just patted her back and left her to figure it out on her own.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Marinette sighed. “I just happened to have the resources to make it happen.”

“Because you’re amazing,” Luka chuckled.

Marinette’s lips twitched as she tried not to smile too broadly, pretending to dust something off his shoulder as an excuse not to look at him for a moment. “Maybe. It did turn out pretty nicely, after all. I guess I deserve some credit for that.” She glanced up at his face, half-afraid he’d be put off by her lack of modesty, but he just squeezed her waist lightly and nodded.

“Absolutely. The business you’ve built at your age, it’s incredible. You’re so dedicated and driven and passionate, it blows my mind. Makes me feel like I’m really slacking. If I had your dedication I’d be on my third album by now.”

“You would be,” Marinette chided, squeezing his arm. “If you’d accepted Jagged’s help.”

Luka sighed and looked away. “That’s complicated, Marinette.”

“I know,” Marinette said, giving him a sympathetic look. “And you’re doing great on your own. Are the final numbers in from the tour yet? I know you were waiting to hear.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Luka’s mouth. “Yeah. They’re, um...they’re pretty good. Really good, actually. Nothing’s certain yet, but I’m pretty sure they’re going to pick up our option for the next album.”

“Really?” Marinette screeched in a whisper, bouncing on her toes. “Luka, that’s amazing!” She popped up on her toes and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. Her eyes went round when she realized what she’d just done, but Luka’s went heavy-lidded and dark.

Suddenly he made a sharp turn and pulled her into an alcove they’d been about to pass, shielded from the rest of the party by a draping of fabric that some professional corner of Marinette’s brain recognized as leftovers from her spring collection. Then Luka’s hand was cradling the back of her neck and his lips were pressed firmly, though gently, to hers, and she was pulling him down into her, pressing up on her toes to deepen the kiss while Luka’s other hand found the small of her back and pulled her closer.

“Marinette,” Adrien’s amused voice was low, and when Marinette gasped and looked behind her, she saw Adrien was standing casually (or what passed for casually when one was an internationally famous model) with his back to the entrance of their little alcove. “They’re about to round up all the single ladies, and Alya’s going to come looking for you.”

“Right,” Marinette gasped, reaching up to touch her face. “Do I—”

“You’re fine. Me?” Luka smiled at her with so much happiness that Marinette almost didn’t register his question.

When she did, she reached up and wiped away a smear beneath his lower lip with her thumb. “I think that’s all.”

“Hmm,” Luka sighed. “We’ll have to do better next time.” He laughed when Marinette gasped and smacked him in the chest before flouncing out of the alcove to punch a snickering Adrien in the arm.

“So violent,” Adrien moaned, rubbing his arm. “Do you know how much money that arm is worth?”

“You’re insured,” Marinette huffed, eyes narrowed as she got in his face and flexed her own arm. “And we both know I can take you so don’t be giving me shit, Agreste.”

Adrien rolled his eyes and turned to Luka. “Are you seriously signing up for this, Couffaine?”

“Hell yeah,” Luka sighed, clapping a friendly hand on Adrien’s shoulder and shoving him away from Marinette. “That was hot,” Luka grinned, putting his arm around Marinette’s shoulders as Adrien jokingly pretended to stagger into a drink cart.

Marinette giggled. “I think growing up with your mom warped your personality.”

“Almost definitely,” Luka chuckled, his arm slipping down to squeeze her waist, but before he could say anything else, the DJ was calling all the single women to the floor.

Marinette tried to hang back but Adrien was blocking her exit, so any attempt she might have made to hide was thwarted, and then Alya grabbed the microphone and yelled into it, “Get your ass up here, Marinette, front and center!”

“Favoritism!” someone yelled, and Alya just laughed.

Marinette reluctantly wandered over and let herself be pushed to the front. She tried not to feel self-conscious as she stood with the other single ladies, all of whom were quite a bit taller than she was. Stupid Alya and her tall genes and her tallish friends. She exchanged a look with Nora, who looked bored and was clearly only participating because her mother had ordered her to be for the sake of having all the sisters in the pictures.

It was a stupid, meaningless tradition anyway. She’d much rather still be basking in Luka’s calm yet electrifying presence. Marinette pasted on a smile and prepared herself to make the minimum effort necessary to look good in the pictures

“Ready?” Alya called, turning her back to the group. “One...two…”

Suddenly a pair of hands wrapped around her waist and a familiar voice softly murmured, “Jump” in her ear. She obeyed without thought just as Alya yelled, “THREE!” and flung the bouquet back over her head. For a moment Marinette felt weightless as she was lifted up high—very high—high enough to snatch the bundle of flowers out of the air. She looked over her shoulder and found Luka grinning up at her as he lowered her to the floor.

“That was cheating,” Ella pouted, and Marinette very maturely stuck out her tongue at the younger girl. She giggled and leaned back into Luka’s chest, his chuckle rumbling against her back before they made their way back off the dance floor as guests began to trickle back onto it.

Marinette grinned down at the fragrant bundle in her hands, feeling a little flutter as Luka, still behind her, leaned his face down beside hers.

“So I know we only just became official and everything, but I’m just saying, you know, whenever you’re ready—”

“Luka!” Marinette laughed, turning in his arms to look up at him. He grinned and shrugged.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he teased. “I’m not saying I won’t wait for you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, but I wouldn’t be sad if I didn’t have to anymore.”

“Mm-hmm,” Marinette grinned wickedly, and then pulled her phone out of the hidden pocket of her dress. “Hold that thought.” She dialed and brought the phone to her ear. “Hi, Sabrina, sorry to bother you but hopefully this will be quick. I know this is short notice, but you know that flight for Vegas I have booked for Monday morning?” Marinette continued, watching Luka’s eyes go wide and his mouth drop open. Oh, that was fun, taking him off guard for once. “I need another ticket. Mm-hmm. Great! Let me know when it’s booked.” She hung up and slipped her phone back in the pocket. “You should know by now that I don’t hesitate anymore,” she teased, looking up into his shocked expression with a grin. “So if you were bluffing you better speak up now, Luka Couffaine.”

“You know I wasn’t,” he breathed, voice low and serious. “So don’t mess with me here, Marinette.”

Marinette shrugged slightly, blushing as she picked at imaginary lint on his sleeve. “You’ve always been more honest with your feelings with most people, so...yeah. I didn’t think you were.” It was an effort to meet his eyes, but she managed it, though it brought the heat to her face again. “Neither am I.”

A single beat.

“Well all right then,” Luka grinned, taking her hand and lacing his fingers through hers. “But we probably should stop by City Hall on our way to the airport just to make sure.”

“You know I like to be thorough,” Marinette agreed, and then squeezed his hand hard. “But if you let a word of this slip before then I’ll kill you. I’m not upstaging Alya’s wedding after all the work I put into saving it.”

“That would be a shame,” Luka agreed. “Also a crappy thing to do to a friend, so.” He tugged her hand lightly. “You know the sooner we get out of here the less we can give away.”

“I like the way you think,” Marinette giggled. “Let’s see if I can keep it together enough to say goodbye.”

Fiction Master Post

I hope you enjoyed it! Here’s the cover I had in mind when Luka played the wedding song.

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#quickspins #lukanette-exchange #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #ml fics #prompt fic #lukanette exchange 2020

179 notes · View notes

bumblesimagines · 4 years ago

Text

Vlad and Axsel

Request: Yes or No

"Thanks again, Ms. Franks!" (Y/N) called over his shoulder, leaving the store. He sipped on his slushie, heading over to his jeep. He heard shouting, turning his head and seeing John B flying over a chain.

"Oh, fuck." (Y/N) jogged over, laughing. "Hey, are you okay?" He asked, trying to hold back his snickers. John B grunted, looking at his side. (Y/N) followed his gaze, seeing the blood.

"Oh, shit. Come on, let's get you fixed up." (Y/N) said, helping him up and taking him to his car. John B made the seat move back.

"Is there a woman and a man who look like No Neck Ed and Rose from that one show?" John B asked.

"You mean 90 day fiancé?" (Y/N) furrowed his brows, looking at the spot they had previously been at.

"Yep. There's Walmart budget Rose and the taller version of No Neck Ed." (Y/N) looked at him, nodding.

"Fucking drive." John B ushered. (Y/N) put his slushie and bag of cheetos down, getting his seatbelt on and driving away.

"What's up with you? Why are you running from the cops?" (Y/N) asked. John B moved the seat back to normal.

"It's, uh, long story." John B replied, reaching for a cheeto. (Y/N) smacked his hand.

"Ask first and say please." (Y/N) huffed. "No manners."

"Can I please have a cheeto?" John B asked. (Y/N) gave a nod. "Yes, you can, John B."

"You know my name?" John B asked, brows raising. He didn't expect it. Then again, he didn't expect Topper's fraternal twin to help him either. (Y/N) nodded.

"Your friend put a gun to my brothers head." He shrugged. John B blinked, watching him. (Y/N) noticed.

"Oh, don't get me wrong, I was scared for his life but he was a douchebag. He needed a nice slice of humble pie." (Y/N) shrugged. "Even though he threw it back up." He shook his head.

"Huh.." John B blinked. He never expected (Y/N) Thornton, the fraternal twin of the entitled Topper Thornton, to help him and not blame his friends for the fiasco from the days prior.

"Make a turn here."

"Sure thing, boss." (Y/N) turned a corner, stopping and watching John B get out of the car, running off and picking something off the ground. John B returned, getting in. (Y/N) drove to Figure Eight, driving to his place.

"Woah, if Topper or your mom see me-"

"Mom is out and Topper is hanging out with Sarah's bitchy brother." (Y/N) said, getting out the car with him and heading inside. (Y/N) led him to an empty room, getting a first aid kit and started to clean his injury. John B hissed, pouting and huffing.

"Big baby." (Y/N) mumbled, grinning. John B met his gaze, taking in his features. (Y/N) was obviously the hotter twin, personality and appearance wise. At least, in John B's mind he was. He and (Y/N) never really spoke, occasionally bumping into each other back when John B worked for Ward. (Y/N) and Sarah were close, practically attached at the hip. John B was surprised when Topper was the one who ended up with Sarah.

"Quick question."

"Hm?"

"Why aren't you and Sarah a thing?" John B asked, eyes raking over (Y/N)'s features. (Y/N) snorted, putting everything away.

"I don't know.. Maybe cause she's dating my brother and I don't like girls?" (Y/N) stared at him. John B blinked, sitting up.

"Y-you like guys? L-Like, you're-"

"Gay." (Y/N) nodded. "Is there a problem with that?"

"N-No! Of course not! I-I'm bisexual." John B quickly cleared up. (Y/N) hummed and nodded.

"Okay.. Need me to drop you off anywhere? A friends house?" (Y/N) tilted his head. John B licked his lips.

"The Wreck." He replied. (Y/N) hummed and nodded, getting up. As they walked down a hallway, John B paused, looking at a painting. (Y/N) noticed and turned, looking at him.

"What's up?" He asked. "Interested in Denmark Tanny?"

"Who?"

"He's the founder of Tannyhill." (Y/N) shrugged, slowly approaching him and looking at the painting.

"How did a slave found a cotton plantation?" John B asked, looking at him. He didn't know why but he just couldn't shake the feeling that the painting was connected to him.

"Cause he was a free man. He showed up out of nowhere and paid for all the land in gold." (Y/N) told him. "There's your history lesson of the day."

"In gold?" John B looked at the painting. He took off his backpack, checking inside and taking out a piece of paper. "Why do I recognise that name?" John B flipped the paper over.

"He.. He was on the Royal Merchant." John B mumbled. (Y/N) furrowed his brows.

"The ship that disappeared and left no survivors?" (Y/N) questioned. John B nodded.

"What else do you know about him?" John B asked. (Y/N) shrugged.

"Sarah mentioned that when she and her family moved in they found a shitload of his stuff and they donated it to the state archives at Chapel Hill." (Y/N) replied, staring at him.

"Change of plans, I need to go to Chapel Hill." John B said, passing by him. (Y/N) blinked, turning and following him.

"Why?" he asked, getting in the jeep with him.

"Can't say. I need to get into the archives. How can I get in?"

"Sarah gave me a trustee pass cause she said she wouldn't be interested in that type of stuff." (Y/N) shrugged, looking at him.

"Can I borrow the pass?" John B asked.

"Like you borrowed the scuba gear from Ward?" (Y/N) tilted his head. John B licked his lips, sighing.

"Sarah got mad at you and ranted to me about it. She didn't snitch on you to Ward.. It was Topper." (Y/N) told him. "Topper's the only snitch in the family."

"Okay, the less you know the better. I need you to trust me." John B said, a bit desperately.

"No can do, macho man. I can, however, go with you to Chapel Hill."

"No-"

"It's settled, baby boy. I'm going with you." (Y/N) grinned, turning the jeep on and driving away. John B ignored the fluttery feeling in his stomach. hey got to the port and got out, (Y/N) grabbing the backpack he had in the backseat. They headed to where the ferry tickets were sold but saw that they were sold out. John B jogged over, asking if they were sold out but was brushed off.

"Goddamn it." John B mumbled. (Y/N) turned his head, looking at a tugboat. John B grabbed his hand, pulling him along.

"Ever been in a tugboat?" John B asked. (Y/N) furrowed his brows.

"No?"

"Okay, we're gonna talk our way onto this barge. I got this. These are my people." John B said. (Y/N) hummed, nodding.

"Alright, boss." (Y/N) watched him walk away. He watched them talk from a distance, giving an amused grin when John B was shot down. John B returned.

"Your people, huh? They must really love you." (Y/N) chuckled. John B rolled his eyes.

"Got anything better?"

"Of course, baby boy. I'm the brains and Topper is... Topper." (Y/N) scanned the barge and hummed, grabbing his wrist and tugging him along. He grabbed some raincoats, picking up an empty tank and nodding to John B. John B went along with it, following him past the guy he had been talking to. They put the tanks down, heading down some steps and into the engine room. John B pulled him towards another room, closing the door. The boat started moving. They took a seat, feeling the room start to heat up. They took the coats and backpacks off, sitting down.

"Shit." (Y/N) mumbled, fancing himself. John B chuckled. (Y/N) took off his shirt, hoping it would help with the heat. John B eyed him before doing the same.

"Well.. Wanna play a game? 20 questions?" (Y/N) asked. John B shrugged.

"You go first." (Y/N) wiped some sweat off his forehead.

"Why did you kill Dimitri?" John B asked in an accent. (Y/N) grinned, looking at him.

"He knew too much." He replied in a Russian accent. "He was a, eh, liability." (Y/N) shrugged.

"Yes, you know, we all know too much, eventually." John B grinned. (Y/N) chuckled.

"Alright.. What are you looking for? Like, why the archives?" (Y/N) looked at him. John B looked away.

"Those are two questions." He mumbled. (Y/N) rolled his eyes.

"But.. I can't tell you."

"Why?"

"Safety reason." John B glanced at him. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"Does it have to do with your dad?" (Y/N) asked. John B stayed silent. (Y/N) frowned.

"I'm sorry that.. He just disappeared. I can't even imagine how I would feel. You know.. I'm always around if you want to rant or sit in silence. We aren't the best of friends but I can promise you, I won't go around spilling secrets." (Y/N) said. John B looked at him, sighing softly.

"Thank you.. I'll.. I'll keep it in mind." He nodded.

"And.. I'm sorry about Topper too. He's.. He's obsessed with having the perfect girlfriend and saw you as a threat. He's not a bad person. Yes, he makes stupid mistakes but.. He cares about his friends and family. He was different before he became friends with Rafe. Rafe is just such a bad fucking influence. Topper knew I was gay before my parents knew. He helped me keep it a secret until I couldn't hold it in anymore. He was devastated cause he thought I would get kicked out and he would be alone but.. I was accepted.. I guess. They just kind of ignore me until they can't." (Y/N) shrugged, looking at him. John B hummed.

"My dad knew before I did." John B smiled. "He said I stared at a lot of his shirtless friends."

"I did that too. I used to have a crush on JJ, actually." (Y/N) chuckled softly. "I don't anymore." He assured. John B ignored the jealously that spiked through him.

"Don't worry. You weren't the only one." John B sat up. He looked at (Y/N).

"I think my dad is alive.. Or at least.. Calling out to me through this weird way. Kind of like whales. You know how they communicate through these soundwaves, right? It's like that." John B told him. (Y/N) hummed.

"I.. I cannot let feelings interfere with the mission." John B said, using the accent again.

"Very true, comrade." (Y/N) nodded. John B sighed, laying back and closing his eyes. (Y/N) turned his head, looking at him. He had always found John B attractive. From his hair to his freckles to his loyalty. (Y/N) licked his lips, looking away. He never thought badly about The Pogues. Kooks were usually the ones who started the fights. (Y/N) sighed softly, laying back as well and waiting. The boat eventually started slowing down so (Y/N) nudged John B. The two put their shirts and coats back on as the boat stopped. They put their backpacks on.

"On a count of three. One... Two... Three!" John B grabbed (Y/N)'s hand, opening the door. The two made a run for it, running from a man yelling in chinese. They dodged people, laughing all the way. They slowed down and began walking, giggling.

"Jesus.. We look like shit." (Y/N) said, panting. "We're gonna have to shop for clothes." he said.

"Why?"

"They won't let us in if we look like swamp monsters." (Y/N) replied. John B hummed. They headed into the city, taking off the coats and letting the breezes and light rain refresh them.

"This place looks fancy." (Y/N) mumbled, pulling John B toward it.

"Absolutely not-"

"Absolutely yes." (Y/N) grinned, stepping inside.

"This is like an organ with the wrong blood type. It doesn't work." John B said. (Y/N) rolled his eyes.

"Relax, baby boy. I'm here to help you find your style." (Y/N) chuckled. He looked over some stuff until a man approached them.

"May I help you?"

"Yes, you may, Mr..?" (Y/N) flashed a charming smile.

"Mr. Ike." He gave a nod.

"(Y/N). My... My boyfriend, Jonathan, needs all the help he can get." (Y/N) said. Mr. Ike looked John B up and down.

"I can see that." Mr. Ike mumbled. (Y/N) chuckled. They were led to the changing room where Mr. Ike got some things for John B. John B stepped into the changing room. (Y/N) sat down after grabbing some sunglasses and putting them on, glancing around until the door opened.

"Wow, middle school dance who?" (Y/N) chuckled, looking over the tucked in button up shirt with red bowtie.

"I look like I got kicked out of the barbershop quartet." John B said, looking at him.

"How about a seersucker, Mr. Ike?" (Y/N) looked at Mr. Ike.

"What the hell is that?"

"Excellent choice." Mr. Ike nodded.

"And maybe a pink button-down, some bucks?" (Y/N) grinned.

"You're speaking gibberish. What the hell is a buck?" John B asked.

"I'll get a pair." Mr. Ike nodded, walking away. John B looked at (Y/N).

"I'm your daddy for the day." (Y/N) chuckled. John B rolled his eyes, entering the changing room. Mr. Ike returned with the clothes, giving them to John B. He excused himself to help other costumers. (Y/N) noticed that John B was staying a while and stood, knocking.

"Did you go to Narnia or something?" (Y/N) asked, opening the door and seeing John B in only his underwear. John B pulled the pants up and huffed as (Y/N) laughed.

"Were you seriously checking yourself out, John B. Routledge? Never took you as the type." (Y/N) leaned against the doorway.

"Don't blame you. I'd check myself out if I were you too." (Y/N) said, stepping back and closing the door. John B blinked, looking at himself in the mirror. (Y/N) had basically called him hot. John B got dressed and stepped out.

"Zipper." (Y/N) called. John B looked down and pulled his zipper up. (Y/N) hummed and nodded.

"You look.. Decent." (Y/N) stood and approached him. "As decent as a clown can get." (Y/N) grinned.

"Ooh, ouch. Nice one." John B chuckled. Mr. Ike returned and John B told him what he would like to see. (Y/N) got dressed and stepped out. John B snorted, looking at the black pants, suspenders, gray shirt, bowtie, and fedora.

"So, who's your daddy now?"

"A man of culture, I see." (Y/N) hummed. John B shrugged.

"I knew a kid who dressed like this every day during middle school." (Y/N) said, looking at himself in the mirror.

"I'm pretty sure we all did." John B chuckled. (Y/N) went back into the changing room, changing into a couple outfits until he chose one he liked. He stepped out, smiling. He wore a dark blue shirt that had about three or four buttons undone. The shirt was tucked into black pants. John B swallowed, looking him over.

"Uhm.. Y-You look great." John B said. (Y/N) hummed.

"Since we're on a secret mission.. We should assume another identity." (Y/N) said, crossing his arms.

"We need aliases. What are you thinkin'?" John B asked. (Y/N) tapped his chin, pretending to think.

"Vlad.. From... Vienna." (Y/N) said, shrugging.

"What about me?" (Y/N) tilted his head. John B mimicked his previous position.

"Axsel from Berlin." John B replied. (Y/N) raised his brows.

"Axsel fra Berlin?" (Y/N) grinned. John B nodded.

"Ja." He stuck his hands in his pockets. "Du snakker norsk?"

"Ja. Hvor mye vet du?" (Y/N) tilted his head. John B licked his lips.

"That's all I know." John B chuckled. (Y/N) smiled, patting his chest.

"You're better good." (Y/N) turned, picking up his backpack and leaving. John B followed him. (Y/N) paid for their clothes, walking out of the store and heading down the sidewalk.

"Come on, they aren't open all night." (Y/N) said. John B hummed, walking beside him.

"So, are Vlad and Axsel dating?" John B asked. (Y/N) cocked a brow, glancing at him.

"Feelings can't interfere with the mission." (Y/N) reminded him. John B nodded, looking forward. The sky began to darken, turning to night. They got an uber, not wanting to walk all the way there. (Y/N) paid and they got out.

"The library is on the other side of the student center. Ever been here?" (Y/N) looked at him. John B shook his head.

"Uh, no. Never been to a college." He replied.

"Hm, you didn't fulfill your training, huh? Liking it so far?" (Y/N) asked. John B nodded.

"Well, my parents went here and so did their parents and their parents as well." (Y/N) told him. "Sarah's dad came here too."

"Damn."

"Yeah.. My mom would kill me and Topper if we didn't go here." (Y/N) sighed.

"And you?"

"I've never really thought about going to college." John B replied as (Y/N) took out his ringing phone. 'Topper' was the contact.

"Uh-oh." (Y/N) showed him the contact, grinning.

"What would he think if he knew you were here with me?" John B grinned as (Y/N) chuckled.

"I'd have a public execution. My crime? Treason." (Y/N) replied. John B gasped softly.

"For being a Pogue sympathizer?"

"Mhm."

"Oh, oh my goodness." John B made the phone motion with his hand. (Y/N) did the same.

"You've gotta be careful fraternizing with the enemy, Axsel." John B said.

"Wait a minute. Did he kidnap you? Or drug you?" John B asked. (Y/N) let a smile slip.

"Nei, I came on my own recognizance." (Y/N) giggled.

"Oh. Do we know this enemy?"

"Ja. You snitched on him to the Big Boss."

"Oh, no, no. It's not that dirty Pogue, is it?"

"He is not what you think." (Y/N) shook his head lightly.

"Goodness gracious, he's working some good psyops on you, Ax." John B scratched his forehead. "He's a smooth operator."

"He really isn't." (Y/N) laughed as John B pretended to hang up the phone.

"He's really clumsy, randomly does finger guns.. And.. He seems to be too shy to make a move." (Y/N) smiled. John B lightly flushed, teeth catching his bottom lip.

"Come on." (Y/N) smiled. "Better be careful, Axsel. Once a Pogue, always a Pogue." They entered Chapel Hill, going up some steps.

"20 questions-"

"Again?"

"-Why are we here?" (Y/N) looked at him.

"The price of the ticket is intel. Tell me." (Y/N) stopped and faced him. John B sighed.

"Alright.. On pain of death?"

"Mhm."

"I'm on a treasure hunt." John B told him. (Y/N) blinked, staring at him.

"Like.. X marks the spot?" (Y/N) asked.

"More or less. I have reason to believe that Denmark Tanny was the sole survivor of the Royal Merchant wreck." John B said. (Y/N) blinked, brows furrowing.

"Which is why he had all that gold? Cause he ran, or probably swam, away with it?" John B nodded. (Y/N)'s lips parted.

"So.. The 'map' to that treasure is one of his belongings." (Y/N) mumbled. John B nodded.

"I'll go talk to the librarian." (Y/N) walked away. John B let out a sigh of relief, glad (Y/N) believed him. The librarian led them to another room, showing them up the stairs and getting all of the belongings.

"Ready?" (Y/N) asked, looking at him.

"Ready." John B smiled. They put on gloves and started looking through everything, trying to find clues or hints.

"He bought slaves and freed them. He was accused of inciting revolt.. This was before the Civil War." (Y/N) told him, looking away from the news article he had been reading.

"It's why they hanged him." John B picked up a Bible, opening it and reading the names and birthdays.

"His three sons." (Y/N) mumbled. John B picked up another paper.

"A picture of gold." (Y/N) hummed.

"British gold.. The type that was on the Merchant." John B glanced at (Y/N), smiling. They continued to look.

"This is his last correspondence." (Y/N) said, showing him the letter.

"That's.. That's in Gullah, the lost Creole language." John B pointed out. (Y/N) glanced at him.

"Know anyone that can read it?" (Y/N) asked. John B nodded, taking a picture. (Y/N) looked it over.

"He wrote this to Robert, his son, on the day he died.. In a language only they could understand." (Y/N) leaned back in his seat.

"That has to mean something." John B mumbled. (Y/N) nodded.

"I have fifteen missed calls from Topper.. Three from mom." (Y/N) told him, chuckling softly. "Good thing we completed the mission. Make my funeral lit, will ya?"

"Yeah, of course. Drinks for everybody." They shared a laugh. John B cleared his throat.

"Speaking of the mission.. You're way better than I expected." John B said, a bit shyly. (Y/N) smiled.

"You're not what I expected either." (Y/N) chuckled. John B faked being shocked.

"Totally ADD. I thought you were this surfer bro who liked to party, smoke weed, and fight."

"You just described JJ."

"Yeah, I realized it as I said it." (Y/N) chuckled, smiling.

"But.. You're actually super funny, bit of a weirdo... Pretty charming." (Y/N) looked at him. John B licked his lips, giving a small nod.

"So.. When we get back.. What's it gonna be like?" John B asked, anxiously waiting for an answer. (Y/N) licked his lips.

"Uhm.. Like always?" (Y/N) said, shrugging as John B nodded.

"I'll go back to being Topper's gay twin brother who breaks up fights and has no friends other than Sarah Cameron." (Y/N) shrugged. "I had loads of fun." (Y/N) assured, patting his thigh. John B offered a small smile.

"I did too." He looked forward. It started to rain as the ferry got back. They got off, walking in the rain.

"Guess we'll have to say goodbye to Vlad and Axsel. So, if we see each other on the street-"

"Yes, of course. I am a true professional." John B grinned, using the accent again. (Y/N) smiled and nodded.

"Been a pleasure working with you, comrade." (Y/N) stuck his hand out. John B took it, slowly shaking it. John B didn't let go when (Y/N) went to pull his hand back.

"I have something to confess." John B said.

"You didn't kill someone, did you?" (Y/N) asked. John B snorted and shook his head.

"I.. I've been in love with you since the day I started working for Ward. You were always kind to me, even when Topper got annoyed at you for it. You never insulted me or any Pogue. You were considerate and always greeted us with only kind words. I love that you don't care about rich or poor and you just see people for who they are. If you don't want anything to do with me from now on, I'll be fine with it. I had the greatest day of my life and I spent it with my longtime crush. I-" John B was cut off by (Y/N) leaning forward and kissing him, arms wrapping around him. John B stumbled back a bit but kissed him back, tension and anxiety leaving his body. (Y/N) gently cupped his face.

"I want this too.."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #x male!reader #outer banks x reader #outer banks x male reader #outer banks x you #outer banks x y/n #john b x reader #john b #john b x male reader #john b x you #john b x y/n

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itcamefromthetoybox · 3 years ago

Text

The Battling Busboy

“Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings,” Marvel Studios’ latest super hero film, just hit theaters, and with it came some great new toys! And this being a toy review blog… I’m sure you can gather where I’m going with this. We’re gonna review some toys! Now, last week, we did something a little different and reviewed a two-pack instead of one toy. Well, we’re doing it again! So let’s take a look at the “Shang-Chi vs. Death Dealer” set.

As of this writing, I haven’t seen the movie yet. With the COVID Delta variant on shelves and my health held together by little more than coffee and a desire to own tiny plastic things, I don’t feel super-duper about going to theaters any time soon. This means I don’t know much about these characters from the movies, especially since I’m avoiding spoilers, and everything I do know is from the comics.

In the comics, Shang-Chi was originally the son of famous literary villain Fu Manchu, and was created back when Marvel had the rights to the Fu-Manchu books and was looking to cash in on the kung-fu craze of the 70’s. Hell, the comic that eventually became Shang-Chi was originally going to be an adaptation of a show called “Kung-Fu.” Despite his dad being so obviously evil that it was cartoonish, Shang-Chi didn’t realize his dad was the bad guy until he was sent to kill Fu Manchu’s enemies from the book, at which point, Shang-Chi realized, “oh crap, my dad’s evil!” Later books would retcon out Fu Manchu, because he was literally the original racist stereotype for Chinese master villains, and replace him with… pretty much the same thing but with a new name, because Marvel was fine with the racism but had lost the book rights and didn’t want to get sued. The movies, however, were like, “yeah, racism and borderline copy right violations might cut into our profit margins.” So they made Shang-Chi’s father an updated version of Iron Man’s comic book arch foe The Mandarin. Shang-Chi has popped up throughout the years as an Avenger, a recurring friend of Spider-Man, the dude everyone who needs to learn martial arts goes to, and whenever there’s a massive crowd shot of heroes. He’s also had several one-shots, short stories, and mini series, all of which is not bad for a guy who has no super powers.

His enemy in this two-pack, his father’s henchman Death Dealer, was someone who I initially knew nothing about. But, it’s 2021 and Wikipedia is a thing, so that got fixed fast. In the comics, Death Dealer was a former member of British intelligence agency MI-6, who was also a spy for Shang-Chi’s father. Upon being discovered, he fled and was given a pretty great costume and sent to fight Shang-Chi, who he actually managed to capture. Shang-Chi managed to eventually escape and later fought Death Dealer at his dad’s base in China, where he actually killed the villain by burning him to death. Because fire is usually the answer to whatever problems you may face.

Now that we all know who the hell these people are, let’s talk toys! For the Shang-Chi movie, Marvel’s released a bunch of toys. Shocking, I know. There’s the highly articulated Marvel Legends line, aimed at collectors, two figures for the Marvel Titan Heroes line of simplified 12-inch figures, and a small line of 6-inch figures with different features, in addition to toy accessories and a toy dragon that looks awesome. The set we’re looking at is from the main toy line, where most of the figures have different gimmicks. In this case, Shang-Chi has the power to roundhouse kick anyone who pisses him off, and Death Dealer has the ability to get roundhouse kicked in the face, because the toy budget meant only one figure in this set got to do something cool.

When Shang-Chi does it, it looks cool. When I do it, my pants rip.

Both figures in this set look really great. Excellent sculpting, wonderful detailing, they just look really good. Since it’s his movie, we’ll talk about Shang-Chi first, though. His articulation is all around his shoulders and legs. He’s also got a ball jointed head, but the sculpting means he can’t look up, so not entirely sure why they didn’t just use a swivel joint here. He’s got no knee or elbow articulation, which is a shame, but that’s because this figure is all about his gimmick, which we’ll get to in a second.

Finally, a toy for all my stock photo needs.

First, I do want to talk about an issue I have with this figure. His hair feels like a more rubbery plastic than the rest of his head, which makes for a weird sensation to touch. I know that’s a minor complaint, but it really bothers me, especially since I also grabbed the other Shang-Chi in this line, and he doesn’t have this issue. I don’t know if it’s a weird quirk of the plastic used for this toy’s head or if the hair’s a separate piece that was attached, or what, but it does bother me and might bug anyone with a sensory issue you might want to give this to, so keep that in mind.

The quality of this picture matches how I feel when I touch the toy’s hair.

Now that that’s out of the way, let’s talk about the gimmick. The way it works is that there is a spring-loaded swivel in Shang-Chi’s right thigh, directly next to his crotch. You raise his left leg into a kick position, turn his body on the swivel, and let go. There’s a button on the back of his right leg that’s meant to hold him in place until you’re ready for him to kick, but it doesn’t do that great a job holding him and also requires you to constantly hold it in to make use of it.

You must grip the handsome man’s strong, powerful thighs.

As for Death Dealer, like I said before, he is very well-detailed. I was delighted by that. His articulation, on the other hand, isn’t exactly stellar. He has excellent shoulders and a ball joint head, but the sculpting prevents him from looking up and he has no elbows. His legs have articulation, but it is really limited by his costume’s robes, which block the legs from moving too much, and he has no knees. His right hand has a dagger molded into it and his left hand is sculpted into a grabbing gesture, so he also can’t hold anything. He’s definitely the weaker figure in the set and is clearly here just so Shang-Chi can kick him in the face.

Who needs good leg articulation when you have an outfit like this?

Who exactly is this set for? Well, clearly, it’s for the kids. It has a fun gimmick with simple figures that are fun for kids to play with and have no accessories that can be lost. The packaging also has no screens or windows, so the figures come in the open, meaning kids can touch them in the stores. The set goes for about $15, which does feel like a fair price. Just keep in mind what I said about Death Dealer’s articulation and Shang-Chi’s hair. That’s all I have to say, so I’m signing off and wishing you happy toy hunting!

#MCU #marvel cinematic universe #Shang-Chi #Death Dealer #Toy #Toys #toy reviews #toy review #review #reviews #marvel #shang-chi and the legend of the ten rings

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snowe-zolynn-rogers · 3 years ago

Text

Pairings: None

Word Count: 1,937 Words

Summary: Katsuki, stop being a stubborn kid.

Warnings: Child Abuse Mention, Eating Disorder Mention, Food Mention, Forced Eating Disorder Mention, let me know if I should tag anything else.

Usernames: Existence Is A Prison Aizawa: feral cat dad, Aoyama: gay salt, Hagakure: ranch flavored jello, Tokoyami: foil-mecha, Shinsou: farmer toshi, Kuroiro: life is a nightmare, Shiozaki: saviour, Tsunotori: schrodinger better run, Honenuki: pure, Monoma: nat20, Yamada: President Megaphone, Bakugou: deku-deck-you

Notes: I’ve changed Shinsou’s birthday to April 20th because I can.

Aizawa, We Agreed No More Cats: Chapter 6

5:28 AM

Existence Is A Prison

feral cat dad: I swear to god, if you say you're going out for a run, Katsuki.

deku deck-you: ...

deku deck-you: I'm totally not going out for a run.

feral cat dad: Kid, you don't need permission or even to tell us. You're allowed around school grounds, to leave, to the school, ya know. As long as you have your pass for the door, you're good, nothing's stopping you.

deku deck-you: I don't need to tell you where I am?

feral cat dad: No, what you do is your own business. Me and UA are just here to house and teach you. Your actions are your own, you don't have to tell us them.

deku deck-you: Oh.

feral cat dad: It's okay if you want to, but you never have to feel obligated to tell me or anyone else, either.

deku deck-you: It's just my mom made me tell her what I was doing every time I left the house.

feral cat dad: Well, I mean, I obviously know what you're doing every morning at 5:30. So, even if I'm worried, I know what you were doing. I'm also not your mom, I don't want to know where you are every second because you're a kid being a kid, you deserve some privacy. God knows you need privacy after not seeming to have it for fifteen years.

deku deck-you: Thank you, Mr. Aizawa.

feral cat dad: You can call me Dad if you want.

deku deck-you: Dad.

farmer toshi: Child-hoarding Dad.

feral cat dad: You're not wrong.

5:33 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: @deku deck-you, I'm coming, Kats. Wait up.

deku deck-you: Come on then, hurry up.

deku deck-you: You get those wires off today, right?

farmer toshi: Yup. Recovery Girl's fixing me today.

1:16 PM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: It's official. I can menace once again.

feral cat dad: If you're terrorizing villagers, please don't bring them back armed with pitchforks, I don't like fire.

5:25 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: Kats, where are you, I don't see you.

farmer toshi: @deku deck-you Did you get up early or something?

farmer toshi: Hey, @foil-mecha, Tokoyami, you're in room 9. Have you heard anything in his room?

foil-mecha: His phone pinged when you @ed him. And I swear I heard him moving around a bit earlier.

farmer toshi: Do you think he's okay? Maybe he's sleeping again?

foil-mecha: No, usually he's up for the day once he's up.

feral cat dad: God, did he push himself too much to recover quickly?

President Megaphone: I'm in early, I'm coming over and checking on him since you're in not position to help him if he's hurt, Shouta.

feral cat dad: Fine.

6:35 AM

Existence Is A Prison

foil-mecha: Is Katsuki okay?

farmer toshi: He fine, just malnourished. He passed out after he woke up, ended up hitting his head a little on the ground, and getting a minor concussion.

gay salt: How!?

deku deck-you: I thought our parents were the ones that paid for our groceries but my parents have told me they won't do it.

feral cat dad: Don't worry about him and his stubbornness, I'll be bringing him to the store later once he feels better and making him pick up foods.

ranch flavored jello: Katsuki! The card you got! The barcode! You just scan the barcode! UA pays for your food while you're in the dorms!

deku deck-you: I know that now, Toru. I thought our family or parents paid for our food.

4:16 PM

Existence Is A Prison

feral cat dad: Okay, get dressed and get a list if you want, kid. What foods do you like?

deku deck-you: Well, I'm allergic to shellfish.

feral cat dad: You've been eating with us all week and you didn't tell us you were allergic to something?

deku deck-you: I avoided things that had shellfish in them.

feral cat dad: Katsuki.

deku deck-you: You act like my mother didn't practically force me to have allergic reactions when she was tired of me.

feral cat dad: You're right, I do act like that because that's not okay. It's abuse, Katsuki, and I want you to be safe and happy. So please, tell me if you can't or even don't want to eat something.

deku deck-you: Alright.

feral cat dad; Okay, anything else you're allergic to?

deku deck-you: No, just shellfish.

feral cat dad; Anything you particularly like?

deku deck-you: Mackerel with spinach, mushrooms, and chili oil.

feral cat dad: Then we'll grab the stuff for you.

President Megaphone: I'll spoil you, kid, I'm your uncle now.

deku deck-you: If you plan on spoiling me, get me those sausages that look like octopi. I love them but I haven't been allowed to buy them for around five years.

President Megaphone: I swear, Shouta, this nephew will get all the sausages. UA is willing to buy.

feral cat dad: I know, but don't go all 'grab it all' at the store, Hizashi, the kid can grab his own food at his own pace. You can pick him up extra ones whenever. We're letting him pick up his own groceries probably for the first time in his life. Don't overwhelm him.

foil-mecha: Can you pick me up boiled octopus and baby sardines, Mr. Aizawa?

feral cat dad: Sure, I'll grab you a bunch of fish, kid.

foil-mecha: Much appreciated.

deku deck-you: Is there a limit I can use?

feral cat dad: No, there isn't. UA is full of future heroes who will likely need to build muscle to save others, to do that, you need to eat well, Nezu's rule for us dorm kids has always been to make sure we eat, he doesn't care how much it costs as long as you're healthy.

deku deck-you: Wow, that's actually. Just wow.

farmer toshi: Your shitty parents put you on a budget, huh?

deku deck-you: Usually I had to cost less than 1,000¥ per week. It was hard, especially building muscle to be a hero. I ate rice and eggs a lot so I wasn't completely starving but it was always hard living with them.

ranch flavored jello: Aren't your parents like famous or something? Why did they want you to be on a budget?

deku deck-you: They didn't like dealing with me besides to scream at me. I think it was to keep me from leaving them. They'd hand me exactly 1,000¥ every week I had to use my money for food because they wouldn't buy food for me after I turned 5. Then they'd still tell me what I couldn't buy.

foil-mecha: I feel great rage toward your parents and I hope they have a horrible life now without you.

deku deck-you: I do too, don't worry.

4:30 PM

Existence Is A Prison

deku deck-you has started a video call

Hey, Kats, how's your shopping going? -foil-mecha

Are you upside down, Tokoyami? Why are you...? -deku deck-you

I'm on the couch. I refuse to sit correctly. -foil-mecha

Dad and Uncle Zashi are off getting dinner for tonight because Dad's getting a little souped out. So they're picking up some stuff for that and I didn't want to feel alone. -deku deck-you

Hey, little bro. -farmer toshi

I turn 16 tomorrow for your information. Call me 'little bro'. I'm probably the oldest of us kids in the dorms right now. -deku deck-you

I turn 16 tomorrow. -farmer toshi

Oh my god, I practically have twin sons now. -feral cat dad

Deal with it, Dad. -farmer toshi

Looks like I'm going over to the cake section and picking up two cakes. - President Megaphone

Strawberry. -farmer toshi

You don't have to. -deku deck-you

No, I don't have to, but I'm going to. -President Megaphone

Anything. -deku deck-you

You're getting your own cake, Katsuki. I'm not just gonna pick you up anything. What's your favorite cake flavor? C'mon, little listener.-President Megaphone

I don't know. I've never had cake before. -deku deck-you

So a variety cake. I can work with that. -President Megaphone

Hey, Kats, can you grab those meat buns and red bean buns in the red bag to your right for me? -nat20

Yeah, okay. -deku deck-you

You're amazing. -nat20

What have you picked out so far, Kats? -ranch flavored jello

Uh, mushrooms, spinach, bean sprouts, eggs, mackerel, and Seiko's bun thing. I'm in the meat section so I'll probably pick up two of those...-deku deck-you

Two of what? -saviour

I got em. Those octopus sausages. I found them. I'm getting two of them. Are you guys sure I'm not spending too much? -deku deck-you

Pick up anything you will either eat or give to someone else who will eat it. -feral cat dad

As long as you're sure. -deku deck-you

What'd you pick up, twinsie? -farmer toshi

Boiled octopus, bacon, ham, chicken, another two sets of the buns. -deku deck-you

Are you picking up things to eat with rice and eggs out of habit, Kats? -foil-mecha

I wanna buy what I know I like first before I buy things I won't eat. I already hate spending money as it is. -deku deck-you

Reasonable. Just make sure you pick up snacks for yourself since training for a Sports Festival takes a lot out of you. -feral cat dad

I am. Ooh, yoghurt. -deku deck-you

I'm right here, Katsuki. -feral cat dad

Hi, Dad. Alright, I'm ending this. Y'all text me if you want something else. -deku deck-you

Bye, twinsie. -farmer toshi

deku deck-you has ended the video call

5:30 PM

Existence Is A Prison

President Megaphone: I'm getting started on dinner. Should be done by 7.

deku deck-you: Can I eat my ice cream?

feral cat dad: You're allowed to eat whatever and whenever.

deku deck-you: I know, I just worry. It'll go away, I hope. I just get worried.

feral cat dad: Getting worried is normal. I was too when I was in your position.

deku deck-you: You were in my position?

feral cat dad: Kind of. Back then, fifteen years ago, there was no teacher or other students in the dorms, just me and Nezu. I was fresh from nine years in a foster home that would spend the money meant to support me on their own son.

feral cat dad: For the first month, I didn't buy myself food. I'd eat breakfast and lunch on school days and skip dinner and meals on weekends because I was scared of spending UA's money.

feral cat dad: After almost a month with no financial transactions on my account and the Sports Festival coming up, Nezu did a surprise inspection and flipped out when there was no food in the kitchen. He forced me to the store and made me buy dinner for us two because he wouldn't allow a student under his roof to not have food for themselves.

feral cat dad: Nezu sat me down and told me the same thing I told you and, after the Sports Festival, I actually bought myself and four friends dinner at a nice restaurant to celebrate me and my friend's winning tie and I paid the bill without even thinking about it.

gay salt: Wait, there was a tie at the sports festival?

feral cat dad: The first year rounds fifteen years ago, the only winning tie because we refused to fight again.

gay salt: I'll have to watch that and see my badass teacher fighting.

feral cat dad: The sports festivals are all free to watch on your televisions in your rooms, no need to pay to watch on YouTube.

Taglist: @everythingisstardust

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #aizawa shouta #katsuki bakugou #shinsou hitoshi #fumikage tokoyami #yamada hizashi #aoyama yuuga #hagakure tooru #monoma neito #ibara shiozaki #snoweywrites #aizawa we agreed no more cats au #tw child abuse mention #tw eating disorder mention #tw food mention #tw forced eating disorder mention

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