#I need a surface to be creative that isn’t a desk

[weltonreject]

goals for future home: own a hobby bench

[dazzlerwriting]

call me & i’ll come

robert ‘bob’ floyd x singer!reader

Pictures are not mine, credit to pinterest!

3.5k words

summary: inspired by “Watermelon” by Jane + John Q Public. after bob joins a D&D campaign to make friends in San Diego, he gets talked into also joining the band that is formed within the group. Over time he and the lead singer slowly get closer and closer. What happens when they kiss, but don’t talk about what the kiss meant to them?

warnings: slight miscommunication! fluff fluff fluff. a bit angsty at one point. the end gets a bit heated so 18+ MDNI!!!! Reader uses she/her pronouns, but theres no other descriptors! petname “darlin” is used twice. use of y/n (i tried so hard not to lol) flashback is bold and italicized

authors note: first off, thank you @lewmagoo for posting about drummer rhett, which in turn helped inspire this story! & everyone posting their Atta Boy stuff was also a huge inspiration to this!! only my second fic and i wrote so much. i just kept going and didnt stop until it was finished! im so sorry lmao. but i hope you enjoy!! this is mostly from bob’s pov!

Bob Floyd has a secret. Well, two. The first one is that he plays in a band in his free time, specifically, he plays the drums. Anyone who may watch how Bob acts when he thinks no one is paying attention, they would see him drumming on his lap, on the desk, or on any free surface. But the Dagger Squad isn’t that astute when it comes to their fellow workers lives. Natasha knows but, there’s a certain trust to be had between a pilot & their WSO. So Bob told her, and while she was taken a bit aback that the quiet Bob Floyd played the drums in an actual band, she was supportive.

Now, the secret that not even Natasha knows, the one Bob would swear he would take to his grave, is that he has a crush on the lead singer in their band. It's not just a silly crush that would go away with time; no, this crush has stuck since he first met her at a community D&D meetup.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Flashback

He saw a sign that read “New Dungeons and Dragons campaign, starting Wednesday! All leveled players welcomed!” on the board at the grocery store a week after being stationed in San Diego. He decided he needed a creative outlet after work and maybe to make friends that weren’t pilots. So he went, and that’s when he saw her. She was their Game Master and she was wearing a renaissance faire-esque outfit. From that first sighting, he was a goner. He would look at her theatrical storytelling during their sessions with a fondness that rivaled the way Orpheus looked at Euridyce. Quickly he would look away before she caught him, but if he had kept looking, he would have noticed her looking at him the same way.

Somewhere along the way, another member of the party, named Blake, noticed Bob drumming on his thigh when the game would die down for a bit. They suggested Bob joined their band, seeing as they were in desperate need of a new drummer, the last one leaving to hit it big time. He went on a whole spill about everything having to do with the band and Bob was apprehensive at first, performing was way out of his comfort zone. He wasn’t like Rooster, he didn’t think he had the proper stage presence to perform for a crowd, and he didn’t want to make a fool of himself.

But that’s when she walked over to the two, a smirk on her face as she looked at Blake and said “Blake… go easy on Bobby boy here. I’m sure he doesn’t need a whole infomercial on why he should join us.” She turned to Bob and put her hand on his arm, and for a second he was sure his brain short-circuited. Now with a soft smile on her face, she gently said “Bob we would love for you to join us, only if you’re comfortable. I know you could be called away at a second’s notice, but regardless it would be an honor to have you as our drummer.” He sat there for a second just taking her in, from the casual way she was dressed, to her kind demeanor. He realized at that moment he was royally fucked because he would do anything she asked. He looked her in the eyes and responded “I-I’ll do it,” stuttering a bit but getting through it. Her smile widened, her eyes lit up with what Bob thought could be adoration, and she jumped up a bit clapping, “Great! We rehearse every Saturday, usually, gigs are small just hangouts for friends or family! I’ll text you all the details.” He missed the warmth from her hand as soon as it was gone but her reaction was worth it. That night while Bob was getting ready to sleep, his phone lit up with a text.

Y/N: Thank you for agreeing to this Bob, it truly means a lot. I’m glad you decided to come to our session that first night :)

And after replying, he fell asleep with a grin on his face, not regretting his decision one bit.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Now after a few months, Bob and the rest of the members have gotten close. They hang out outside of rehearsal and game sessions, and they’ve even been to Bob’s apartment for dinner. That’s when he told Natasha that he was in a band, and introduced them to her. They had a great night and Bob felt like he had found his group of people. The thought of leaving them for a mission, where the outcome was unknown, was scary, but the idea of having them all there to come back to, outweighed the formidable thoughts. Especially when he thought about the kind, charming, and beautiful singer who made it her mission to text Bob every day to ensure he was having a good day. Over the few months they had learned a lot about each other, she made sure to ask him the same questions he would ask her. Including dreams, they had as kids, favorite movies, biggest music inspirations, etc. He opened up to her about the constant teasing from the Dagger Squad, including the “Baby on Board” joke. And he learned she was the biggest nerd outside of D&D, texting him updates on the latest comic she had read, the newest Doctor Who update, and random fun facts about his favorite movies. With every text he received, Bob fell deeper and deeper into Cupid’s chokehold.

It all kinda got turned upside down when he and Phoenix suffered from a Bird Strike during training, and they had to eject. Early morning, after leaving the hospital and getting home, he texted the band group chat to let them know he would be missing both D&D and band practice. He was bombarded with questions regarding his well-being, and texts lending out sympathy to him. But y/n had been quiet, that is until he heard a knock on his door. When he opened it, he saw her standing there with several bags full of groceries and a shy smile on her face. “Hi,” she said softly “I’m sorry for the intrusion but I just wanted to make sure your recovery was a stress-free time, and well, I just, I’m sorry I can drop all this off and go if you want me to. I should’ve texted beforehand and I..” she was rambling now and he thought he couldn’t find her any more endearing than he did right now. He adjusted his glasses and stepped out of the doorway, “N-no come on in, you are welcome here at any time, you know that.” At that, her shoulders dropped a bit in relief and he could see her let out a breath he doubted she knew she was holding in. He led her to the kitchen and watched her get to work doing whatever she was here to do.

“Okay so I have the stuff to make baked potato soup, Alfredo, and I also brought peanuts, chips, Gatorade, and a bunch of other snacks for you.” She quickly got everything out of the bags, putting things in the right place, and Bob was hit with a daydream of this being a normal occurrence. A domestic life with her, both of them dancing around each other in the kitchen, making dinner while dancing to songs like ��I’ll Be Seeing You” by Billie Holiday. He was so caught up with his daydream, he didn’t even realize she was talking to him. “I’m sorry what did you say?” He asked with a bashful smile. She shook her head with a gentle laugh, and said “I was just saying you should go get comfortable, I’ll be in here for a while.” He looked at her and gave a soft nod, immediately going to lie down on the couch and continue his daydreaming. For a while, he could hear her gentle hums coming from the kitchen, and he let that lull him into a peaceful sleep where he dreamed of a future where they were together.

A few hours later he was woken up by someone gently shaking his shoulder. He rubbed his eyes, put his glasses on, and when he looked to see who it was, he swore he was still dreaming. She looked almost angelic standing above him with a caring smile and a bowl of something in her hands. “Sorry to wake you, it just hit 4, so I thought you might be hungry,” she gave a soft shrug and looked a bit nervous to see what his reaction might be. He took the bowl from her hands and gave a soft thank you with a smile he hoped was kind, and not some kind of grimace from still being a bit tired. He realized it was baked potato soup and he had to admit it was the best soup he had ever had, “This is amazing, thank you so much.” She gave another shrug and replied “It’s the least I can do, need our best sorcerer and drummer to get better soon! I put the rest in the fridge along with the Alfredo. The snacks are still on your island, but I should get out of your hair now. If you need anything please know I am a call away.” He really didn’t want her to leave just yet so he did something that even shocked him, “Do you want to stay, I’m sure you’re hungry as well and we could watch a movie or something?” Her eyes widened and a bright smile appeared on her face, “I would love to if you really don’t mind.” Of course, he didn’t mind, was she crazy?? If he could he would spend all of his time with her. “I don’t, please you’ve done so much for me today so please stay.” He didn’t mean to sound so needy, but it didn’t seem to deter her. In fact, her smile got brighter and she nodded her head.

They decided on watching Wall-E, it seemed like a good idea at the moment, but now they are both sniffling on the couch. “God who knew a cute robot could turn two adults into an emotional mess?” she said while turning to him, wiping the tears from under her eyes. He looked at her and she was gorgeous he thought. They sat looking in each other’s eyes for a moment and in a flash, their lips were on each other. He doesn’t know who leaned in first, all he knew was her lips were soft and he could feel her breath from her nose. As soon as it started, it was over and he chased her lips when she pulled away. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I’m so- I’m gonna go. Thank you Bob.” she rushed out, quickly grabbed her stuff, and practically ran from his apartment. He sat there dumbfounded, had he messed it up so quickly? Did she not like him in the same way he did her? He didn’t know, he kept wondering what happened while putting things away, and he fell asleep asking himself what happened.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

A few weeks have passed, and things have gone semi-back to normal. There’s an awkward tension between them every session, every band practice, and the texts from her have stopped outside of letting him know of any changes to the schedule. Natasha could tell something was going on with her backseater, but he wouldn’t budge. He just told her it was nothing and that he was fine. But anyone with any common sense could see he wasn’t fine, he was distracted at work, he didn’t have the band members over for dinner, and he just seemed lost in thoughts every time someone talked to him at Hard Deck. But Natasha wasn’t having it, so she contacted Y/N, she told her Bob was acting strange. Y/N let her know what happened, and that she felt as if the kiss had only happened because Bob was emotional. She also let it slip to Nat that she had been harboring a crush on Bob since they first met, and despite trying to ignore it, it continued to grow. Nat told her the band should perform at the Hard Deck that weekend, and Y/N agreed only if Bob was okay with it. She texted Bob and he decided it was time to overcome the fear of the Dagger Squad knowing he was in a band. If he couldn’t overcome the fear of telling her how he felt, and how the kiss made him feel, then he could at least do this. And so it was set, the group would be performing at the Hard Deck, and Bob let that distract him from whatever else he was feeling at the time.

Saturday finally came, and Bob was a ball of nerves. He was sure the squad wouldn’t be too harsh towards him, but when it came to Hangman, he could never tell. When he arrived at the bar to do sound checks, he saw her again and a bit of his nerves calmed. She looked at him with a gentle but nervous smile “Hey Bob, glad you made it. We’re just gonna run through a few songs, and then we’ll get going with the show. I also brought a new song, it’s not too much but it will be the last song for the night.” He nodded his head, a bit lost in her eyes. He pushed his glasses up a bit and got his drums set up. After sound check, people started filling in the bar. Nat came up to him with a bit of a smirk, “I know about your kiss with Miss Gorgeous Singer up there.” She then lightly punched his arm, “Why wouldn’t you tell me, Bob? This is important information and I thought we were best friends.” She had a faux pout on her lips now and he shrugged, “I don’t know what happened Nat, it was going so well and then she just ran out.” He looked down, twirling his drumsticks, and she realized he was quite upset. She’s guessing the two idiots haven’t even talked about it. “I’m sorry Bob, but hey maybe things will work out after tonight,” she said with a comforting smile. It was at that moment, Jake, Javy, Bradley, and Mickey realized it was their own “Baby on Board” on the drums for tonight.

“Well well well, what do we have here?” Jake said with his usual smirk on his face. “Cut it bagman.” Natasha quickly replied, she realized it was time for the band to start so she gave Bob a final comforting smile, then quickly pushed Jake and the rest of the guys back.

You got on stage and introduced the band. The show started and everything was going well. Bob was keeping up, concentrating hard and using the quick time between songs to push his glasses up his nose. Finally it was time for the new song, and he was a bit nervous, seeing as they hadn’t rehearsed it yet. He heard you clear your throat as you said “Hey y’all, this last song is a new one I wrote about a week ago. Sometimes you just meet someone and realize you will always be there for them no matter what.” With that, you looked back to the group and nodded to let them know it was time to start.

I’m the watermelon slammed into your driveway

Crack me open so I feel the air inside me

Bob stared at her while playing and realized that in someway, she had cracked his introverted shell. She helped him become more comfortable. She even was a huge reason he had a group of people who cared about him, outside of the dagger squad. He quickly looked at Natasha in the crowd, just to see her smirking right at him.

Music boyfriend I’m your yum yum

Call me and I’ll come

Y/N’s words from weeks prior echoed in his head as she sang, “If you need anything please know I am a call away.” And it hit him in this moment that maybe just maybe, she did feel the same way about him.

Am I dreaming or did you just kiss me

You don’t know it but you already miss me

He looked back at her and realized she was looking at him. Singing this song to him. She had a bashful smile on her face, and he could tell she was a nervous.

Fuck the rest of them

Fuck em all

Fuck em all but us

In this moment, everyone else in the bar seemed to fade away. It was just them, and he made the decision to admit what he was feeling after the show. She was breathtaking, and he thinks he may not make it if he doesn’t tell her tonight. She finally turned away in time to sing the last line to the crowd.

Fuck em all but us.

When the song ended, the bar was full of applause, even the squad looked impressed by the show. Bob watched her walk off stage after saying her thank yous, and head for the back deck. He got up to follow but was immediately stopped by the Dagger Squad, they were all patting him on the back and smiling at him. “Didn’t think you had it in you Bob, but that was truly amazing. And it seems as if the singer thinks so too.” Jake said to him with a genuine smile on his face. Natasha pushed Jake out of the way and gave Bob a hug, pulling away she said “Go get her, we’ll all still be here when you get back.” With that Bob gave a quick thank you and rushed toward the back door.

He saw y/n standing there, arms crossed over the railing and head up to the sky. When she heard the door open, she turned her head and she had a sheepish smile on her face. He thought she looked so beautiful, a bit sweaty from the show, the moon as backlighting. Her beauty rivaled that of the ocean. She was gorgeous in every sense of the word.

“You did good tonight Bobby. Thank you for letting us come play here.” She said softly as he made his way over to her. He felt warmth crawl up his neck at the use of his nickname, and he put his hand on his neck as he told her “You were gorgeous tonight.” She gave a soft laugh and bashfully turned her head. Before she could respond he continued talking, “Thank you. For everything. You invited me to this band, not even knowing if I was a good drummer. You texted me daily just to make sure I was doing okay. You made me possibly the best food I’ve had in forever. Don’t tell my ma I said that, she would never let me live it down.” He chuckled while saying that, he took a deep breath in and continued, “You have changed me as a person, so thank you.” She looked back at him, eyes wide, mouth agape. She had tears lining the bottom of her eyes, as she rushed over to hug him. “I’m so sorry I ran out of your apartment that night. I was nervous you were only kissing me because of the emotions from the movie and the tiredness. But that kiss meant everything to me. I haven’t stopped thinking about it or you since it happened.” Her speech was a bit muffled from the way she was pressed to Bob. Now it was his turn to look a bit shocked, he hadn’t even thought about how she might have thought it was all her fault. He held her and said“Darlin’ I think we’ve both been a bit idiotic. I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since I met you, and after that night I thought I messed everything up. I truly like you, I think I might even be falling in love with you if I’m honest.” She pulled back a bit and looked him in the eyes for the slightest sign that he could be lying, when she couldn’t find one she put her hand on his neck and pulled his lips to hers. This kiss was different. This kiss held all of the unspoken feelings they’ve both kept bottled up for months. He grabbed her hips and pushed her back against the railing, she opened her mouth to gasp, allowing his tongue to slip inside.

She tugged at his hair and he let out a quiet groan. Just as he was making way to pick her up, the loud noise of several nosey aviators cheering burst their bubble. She pulled back and leant her forehead on his chest, shying away a bit. He turned back to see the group smiling, clapping, whooping, and hollering. He turned back towards her and lifted her face up to his, “I’m sorry about them. Also I’m sorry I feel like I’m doing this a bit backwards, but would you like to go out for dinner soon?” He felt a bit nervous asking the question but she just looked at him like he hung all the moon and stars. “Sure, how about we go talk to your friends for a bit, then go pick up some food, and maybe finish what we start at your place?” She asked with a flirty smirk on her face. Yeah she was going to be the death of him.

[holllandtrash]

hi friends im alive i miss u all

sadly, for the time being, i have stopped writing fanfiction. i need to focus on my career and also on writing a story that i so desperately want to turn into something real

i wrote a little synopsis of something im working on if youre curious and you can read a snippet and see the chat gpt curated cover below the cut lol

The Art of Falling

Indy Brookes has spent her life immersed in the art world, navigating the delicate balance between creativity and commerce at the prestigious Westmont Auction House. She understands that every masterpiece holds hidden depths—stories layered beneath the surface. So when the new Head of Client Relations, Sunil Dival, steps into her world, she can’t help but see him the same way: a piece of art waiting to be unraveled.

Indy thrives on passion and instinct, while Sunil holds tight to logic and control. Though they each bring something valuable to the table, their visions for the future are fundamentally at odds.

As their lives begin to overlap, Indy realizes that Sunil, much like the art she loves, has more to him than meets the eye. In the fast-paced world of auctions and high-stakes deals, they find themselves navigating not only their work, but the unspoken connection growing between them.

Wine bottle in hand, I headed back upstairs, my footsteps quiet on the marble floors. I was going to grab my bag from behind the reception desk when something caught my eye in the gallery—Sunil, standing alone in front of the red painting I had just shown Ms. Bass.

His hands were slid into his pockets, his posture relaxed from what I could tell. The soft glow from the light fixture above the painting cast shadows across his side profile. Much like Ms. Bass, he stared at the painting in confusion. But instead of asking what he was supposed to feel, Sunil stared at it as though if he stood there long enough the answer would jump out. I waited in the doorway, watching him for a second longer than I probably should have.

The painting had a way of doing that—drawing people in. But it was strange seeing him like this. Still emotionless, but more composed. I couldn’t tell if he was just in work mode or if there was something else.

I leaned against the doorframe, the bottle dangling loosely between my fingers.  “Admiring the art?” I called out, my voice sounding more casual than I currently felt.

Sunil didn’t turn right away, his gaze fixed on the canvas. “Something like that,” he replied, his tone flat, as if he were working through something in his mind.

I took a small step into the gallery, unsure if I was intruding on a moment I didn’t fully understand. “What are you thinking?”

He finally glanced in my direction, though not quite meeting my eyes. “Just wondering why people are drawn to it,” he said. His voice was measured, detached. “There’s been so many calls about it, you know? It was the piece that Ms. Bass was here to see too, wasn’t it? I just don’t get what makes it worth the attention?”

I hesitated, not sure if he wanted a real answer or if he was just thinking out loud, but I had just had this same conversation only minutes prior. I took a step closer. “It’s about how the artist uses color and texture to create emotional tension,” I said carefully. “The red isn’t accidental, it has a purpose—it’s layered with meaning. Passion, desire, love. It’s almost as if the artist wanted you to feel conflicted, to question what you’re supposed to see.”

I paused, watching for any reaction, but Sunil’s expression remained impassive, his eyes still fixed on the painting. 

“The longer you look at it,” I continued, “the more it forces you to engage with that tension. That’s why people are drawn to it—it’s not just about what they see, but how it makes them feel. It doesn’t let you be a passive observer.”

He didn’t respond right away, then, without glancing in my direction, he said, “Or maybe people just like to overthink things.” His tone was flat, but the words cut through the air with a dismissive edge.

I stopped in my tracks, realizing at that point that he wasn’t asking for an explanation the way Ms. Bass had. He didn’t care about the history or the artist’s intent. This was something else.

“It’s nice, I guess.” he muttered, almost to himself. 

Nice. 

Nice. 

That word felt like a direct slap to the face. Nice? I had spent years studying pieces like this—pouring over the intricacies, the layers of emotion, the painstaking detail behind every ounce of effort put into it. And Sunil stood there, calling it nice? It was like hearing someone call a symphony ‘catchy’.

The part of me that wanted to set him straight bubbled up to the surface. I wanted to tell him that this wasn’t just a painting you glanced at and deemed ‘nice.’ This was a masterpiece, something you had to feel, something that deserved more than a casual shrug and a throwaway word.

A mild summer breeze was nice. A freshly-mowed lawn was nice. This painting landed in a category of its own that I was actually offended by his comment. 

I could almost hear the lecture forming in my head—something about the delicate use of the color red, the emotion hidden beneath the shadows. I wanted to ask if he even knew what it meant to truly see a painting like this, to understand the depth it carried.

But then I stopped myself, the words slipping away as quickly as they came.

What was the point? He wasn’t here to appreciate the art the way I did.

He wasn’t a curator. He wasn’t a historian. He was Head of Client Relations. His job revolved around the sales of the auction, not the beauty that was stored within our walls.

Sunil wasn’t asking for an analysis or a history lesson. He didn’t need to be corrected or belittled. Maybe, for him, ‘nice’ was enough. At least he was taking the time to even look at the piece.

I bit back the urge to put him in his place. Sometimes people just needed to have their own moment and this shouldn’t have been about me proving I knew more. 

For a moment I was envious of the lack of emotion he felt. I knew too much about the artist and his collection. I felt too much, but it wasn’t my place to force someone to feel the same. Maybe he just needed to stand in front of it, lost in whatever he was seeing, without someone like me shoving meaning down his throat.

So I stayed silent. I let him have this. His moment.

I took a step back, muttering a quiet "Goodnight," as the space between us grew. 

Sunil nodded, still looking at the painting. "Goodnight," he repeated, but there was something in his tone that made me pause. It wasn’t cold, exactly, but it wasn’t warm either. It was just…there. Like everything else about him since he’s arrived—distant.

I lingered for a second longer, waiting for some kind of clarity but it didn’t come. I couldn’t get a read on him. With a small sigh, I twirled the wine bottle in my hands and made my way out, leaving Sunil alone in the gentle glow of the nice painting.

--

yes her name is indy like indy car!! u can take the girl out of motorsports but u cant take motorsports out of the girl !!

[alieinthemorning]

Not True  [Diluc Ragnvindr]

Content: Fluff, Hurt (You)/ Comfort (Diluc)

Pronouns: None

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don't forget to like and reblog!

Original Work: I Love you | Diluc Ragnvindr

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

You admired Diluc’s tenacity.

Your Lover.

Wine Tycoon

Vigilant of Mondstadt

And whatever else he did amongst the shadows.

Oh and,

Bartender.

The persona he was taking up now.

Sleeves rolled up as he mixed yet another drink flawlessly.

You smiled, admiring him and enjoying the bubbly atmosphere.

Until it popped.

A group of rowdy men howled loudly with laughter.

They weren’t directly beside you, but near enough to have your smile drop.

The bubbly atmosphere wasn’t so bubbly anymore.

Suddenly the whole room was too much and you needed to get away.

“Hey.”

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes flying to meet that of your beloved.

“I have some paperwork to finish before tomorrow.” He extended his hand, “Let’s go home.”

The smile floated back to the surface.

“I’ll brew some tea.”

You stared at the basket in front of you.

Colorful balls of yarn laid like eggs in a nest.

You had…an urge to learn to knit after watching Noelle knit a sweater in an hour.

So, you asked her to teach you.

And things were fine!

While you were with her.

You did a few small things to start

Small shapes like hearts because they were cute, coasters and even mug cozies.

But now that you were home with your latest project, a sweater for your beloved,

you froze.

The task was now daunting and scary.

What if you messed it up?

What if he didn’t like it?

What if he wanted to break up because of your terrible work?

What if—?

“You know,” You were startled out of your thoughts, as Diluc rounded the couch, eyeing yarn. “I was just thinking about taking up a hobby.” He picked one up then looked at you. “Would you be willing to teach me, love?”

You took a shaky breath, as your heart skipped a beat.

“I’ll try my best.”

“We’ll try together.”

“Arugh!” You crumpled the paper in your hand, then slammed your fist into the desk.

This was the fifth time you were rewriting this.

Why was your handwriting so sloppy?

Why did the pen keep bleeding?

Why wasn’t the paper as smooth as it should be?

Why?

Why?

Why?

You swung your hand to the side, relishing in the sound of all the items on the desk clattering to the floor. 

But then your name was being called by your beloved,

And your anger very quickly fizzled into fear. 

You ducked underneath the desk, tucking yourself close and hiding your face away.

The moment you squeezed your eyes shut, the door opened. 

Silence, then footsteps, but not toward you, but the side. 

The discarded items were picked up from the floor, but you dare not face him.

Once everything was back in order, you felt his presence kneeling beside you. 

It took about a minute for you to gain the courage, or rather become uncomfortable, to face him. 

His arms were open, an invitation. 

And you selfishly took it.

“I’m sorry!” You sobbed. “I didn’t mean to! I just got so angry and—!”

“It’s okay.” His whisper cut through your sniffling, “Anger can claim even the gentlest of us.”  

You wanted to run

To hide

To no longer exist. 

You couldn’t handle anymore. 

You knew, logically, that they weren't trying to be mean 

Or rude

Or to forget you. 

You were always so forgettable. 

No wonder— 

“There you are.” His voice startled you out of your thoughts.

You flinched at each of his footfalls, only stopping once he did. 

He curled in on yourself as he lowered himself to you. 

“Whatever it is, it isn’t true.” 

You bit your lip. 

You knew it wasn’t true, but you just couldn’t help it. 

“Let me see you.” He brushed a hand over your head. 

You lifted your head, but the moment you locked eyes with the crimson ones, the tears fell and so did your head.

How could someone like him love someone like you? 

His arms wrapped around you and kissed the crown of your head. “I love you, you know.” 

You nodded. 

“Let me hear you say it. Please.” 

“I know you love me, Diluc Ragnvindr.” 

“And I always will. I will tell you as many times as you need to hear it.” 

“Tell me you love me.”

You felt him smile. 

“I love you.”

Initial Note: Okay, so I know you wanted more than just Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, but I’m only comfortable with writing about that since I suffer from it. I don’t want accidentally offend anyone or present them incorrectly. So I’m sorry about that but I do hope you enjoyed what I did write. Diluc loves you! 

...

So, hey its getting close to two years since I wrote this, or rather the original one because oops this went from

"I want to have all of my Collection works on AO3 to be their own individual works because I don't always read other people's collection works, so why should I have mine like that" to "I should rewrite this"

So uh, maybe more will get an update to keep an eye out.

Also this is the original title of this fic, I don't know why I changed it to "I Love You"

Oh also peep the fact that I fully fulfilled the request out now lol

Gee I wonder what changed.

Totally not related but the second to last part is based off a true story haha :)

Also also, to the person who originally requested this: I really hope you see this! And if you do please send an ask! Reminder that Diluc love You!

Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist

[doctorbrown]

DOCTOBER '24 ⸺ 「 10 / 31 * SPEAKEASY 」

18:27

Somewhere out by Clayton Ravine, Orwell Valley

Normally, the moment the doors to his lab clicked shut, immersing him in comfortable, voluntary solitude–unlike that which was forced upon him daily–the sound would trigger an autonomic response that his body understood as relax.

Only he and Goldie were aware of the existence of this place, and Goldie, being the only person he could even attempt to use the word friend to describe, has faithfully kept it secret for the better part of the last six years.

The click meant that the mask could be discarded, the rigidity he forced into his spine at the start of every morning to keep it straight could be given slack, allowing his shoulders to slump slightly, and the chains, woven intricately between and around each rib and vertebra and anchored to a part of his soul, would come undone and allow him to breathe a little more easily.

He had gone over this place with a fine tooth comb, installing countermeasures against the security systems that he designed to grant himself this, this singular pocket of anonymity in which Citizen Brown ceased to exist and Emmett, the scientist, freed himself from his restraints to flex his creative and scientific mental muscles lest they atrophy from disuse. 

It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. One worth all the risk. 

Emmett drops down unceremoniously into the seat at his desk, staring blankly at the unfinished blueprints laid open before him. This project, like all the others before it, had captured his attention for the last two and a half weeks, providing such a delightful and stimulating challenge that his distraction had bled through into his daily life, earning him the ire of his darling wife. 

But it was difficult to concentrate on the tedium of the job–Edna would override his decision anyway and hand him whatever paperwork to sign she deemed appropriate in the end–when the promise of discovery was so close he could grasp it in his fingers.

Now, he finds it near impossible to even look at his notes when the voice of young Martin McFly bashes against his skull on incessant repeat, turning what was a spark of frantic genius into meaningless lines curved against the page.

There are no miserable people in my Hill Valley!

Jesus, Doc, open your eyes! They’re–they’re terrified! It’s like something out of 1984 here! And you, Doc—you look… This can’t really be what you wanted for yourself, can it? What you hoped to do with science?

He had said nothing in response to that. Now, in hindsight, it seems he told the young man everything he needed to know.

He may not have had the pleasure of getting to know the young man personally, but on paper, he was an exceptional citizen. That even this iteration of him should be just as perceptive shouldn't have been a surprise, yet Emmett found himself blinded all the same.

Doc, this isn’t right. You know it’s not. And you’re my best friend, I know that you’re not happy. But, you know, where I’m from, how things are supposed to be, you are. God, Doc, you’re the luckiest man in the world where I’m from! You invented time-travel, for God’s sake! And you’ve got Clara and the boys— 

The more Martin spoke, the more difficult it became to try and convince himself this was all some grand delusion, a temporary moment of insanity brought on by stress or some other such stimulus on the boy’s part. 

No, Martin was far too familiar with him–too knowing–and he hadn't sensed an ounce of deception in his eyes.

So either everything he said was true, or he'd believed it so wholeheartedly, he had managed to convince himself that it was the truth.

That, coupled with the raw emotion pouring from Martin’s voice, written into every fibre of his being, had knocked Emmett’s entire world off-balance, forcing things to the surface that were better off forgotten and buried. 

Dreams, hopes—things long lost to the steady march of time.

“Damn,” Emmett swears, unafraid that he’ll be caught and issued a demerit for his unsightly outburst. In a rare moment of desperation, he brings his elbows down hard on the table and drops his face into his hands, grabbing fistfuls of hair.

[spencersawkward]

if you feel comfortable with it, I’d love a prof Spence where reader is a student and goes to office hours to initiate ~smutty goodness~ but Spencer is reluctant at first bc his job but they flirt more and eventually sleep together

me n my professor kink when i saw this: 😏 anyway yes i am quite comfortable writing about this lol. i took some ✨creative liberties✨ with your request so i'm sorry if it isn't exactly what you wanted! 

summary: reader is a student in Dr. Reid’s class, but she’s been something of a poor student-- office hours are the only solution.

relationship: Fem!Reader/Professor!Spencer

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, fingering, rough sex, super brief hair-pulling, creampie, dirty talk, spanking, age gap, degradation-- he gets pretty dominant oops.

word count: 4.5k

masterlist

popping in a piece of gum, I make my way to the back of the hall. there are a few people here already, but it's a little early. I'm never early. in fact, I'm usually late; my other class is on the other side of campus, and getting here involves a lot of embarrassing speed-walking.

but here I am, five minutes ahead of schedule and actually in a decent seat. as I flip open my textbook and pull my laptop out of my bag to prepare to take notes, my gaze slides down to the corner of the room, where Dr. Reid is standing up with a pile of papers. he walks over to the girl in the front row, handing her the stack and gesturing for her to pass it along.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. he's a total luddite. the first day, Dr. Reid spent about ten minutes rambling about the importance of reading from a physical book rather than online sources-- which, although I definitely agree with, means a lot more lugging around folders and organizing all the readings he gives out. if he wasn't so hot, I would have switched into another course.

and I know it's wrong to be daydreaming about my professor slamming me into a wall while he discusses the intricacies of quantum theory. the complete cliché of it is embarrassing. but still, I just can't stop thinking about him: how his fingers would feel around my throat, the smooth wooden surface of his desk against my cheek as he bends me over and pulls my panties to the side--

"glad to see you've decided to join us, today, Ms. Y/L/N." Dr. Reid's voice startles me out of my thoughts. he's standing towards the front of the room while students file in. his hands are resting in his pockets with his eyebrows pleasantly raised.

"glad to see you've noticed." I retort, too irritated with his comment to care about being polite.

a couple people look at me. even though I'm generally not on time, he tends to just glance my way when I walk in and leaves it at that. I know he doesn't like it, although I personally don't care. I hate this course.

he seems visibly surprised by my response but doesn't reply, gaze lingering on mine before he turns to speak to a student trying to get his attention. I bite back a smile. fucking asshole.

as usual, Dr. Reid writes in his thin, messy lettering on the board while wandering around the front of the room. he's quite fidgety, even though his voice doesn't betray any sort of nervousness. it's like he's naturally overactive.

every word out of his mouth is enunciated, sometimes spoken faster when he gets particularly impassioned by the subject. he's interesting to look at, too. messy curls and a nice suit, stubble that straddles the line between refinement and ruggedness.

I type quickly, but it isn't fast enough and the strange illustrations he does on the board only complicate things. I try to write them down in my notebook, but my handwriting is jagged; sometimes it's hard to read. when a student raises her hand for a clarification, I take the opportunity to catch up.

my head jerks up as soon as I'm finished and he's looking at me while he speaks. even from so many feet away, the intensity strikes me. he's gesticulating and crossing the room. I hold eye contact.

I wonder if he dates often; a couple of the girls in my row always stare at him throughout the lectures. he seems to be completely unaware of the effect he has on people. sometimes I'll see him in the hallway and he has his nose buried in a book, or a to-go cup of coffee, or both. either way, there seems to be no more room in that head of his for romance.

which, naturally, makes me curious about how he looks when he's on the edge of orgasm. if that composure is replaced with a contorted pleasure. I want to break him.

it's like he can read my thoughts, because Dr. Reid averts his gaze. my stomach twists with a strange anticipation. he avoids looking my way for the rest of the time.

towards the end of class, I start to pack my things to go. I have three papers to write, and my utter lack of interest in this is making me eager to leave. I shove my textbook into my bag the second my professor starts to make closing remarks.

"don't forget that we have a midterm in two weeks!" he says in a slightly louder voice as people start to move around. "if you have any questions, my office hours are posted on the bulletin board outside."

at this, my eyebrows rise. I forgot about the midterm. I have a study calendar set up for all my subjects, but I've purposefully been putting this one off. I'm not super into math. and it doesn't help that most of my time is spent not listening. when I am, it doesn't make sense.

as I stand up and gather my stuff, I hear someone clearing their throat a couple feet away. my head turns to see Dr. Reid leaning against his desk.

"Ms. Y/L/N, can I see you for a second?"

my heart stutters in my chest. is this about my attitude? he's never asked to see me outside of lessons before.

I frown, making my way to him with a deliberate pace. the tension in the room builds as I watch the last of his students shuffle out of the room. my head turns from the door to him; my breath catches a little in my throat at the set of his jaw. part of me hopes I get yelled at.

"I'm concerned about your participation in this class." he says. his voice isn't cruel, but it is brutally honest— which is worse. participation? I feel my fist clench at my side. my professors don't usually say anything if you aren't doing things up to their expectations; if you aren't, then they give you a bad grade. simple as that.

"is this about me being late?" I ask. he lets out a sigh before answering. he sounds disappointed.

"you're constantly tardy, and when you hand in your homework, you barely seem to have put in the effort. it's messy."

"messy?" I start to get annoyed. I'm only doing this so that I can get my degree. it's a fucking requirement. even though I'm not the biggest fan of mathematics, I still do my best and hand in my assignments on time. plus, the latest I arrive is five minutes-- it's not like I'm stumbling in halfway through the lesson.

"you've never come to office hours to ask for help or explained your lateness, which I, as your professor, would have appreciated." he scolds. honestly, I don't know what to say. my eyes narrow.

"I have my studio class on the other side of campus." I explain. "I should have emailed about that and I'm sorry, but I'm also not being lax about my work."

he goes around to the other side of his desk and glances up at me while he organizes some loose documents to pack away. he looks way too good when he's exasperated: his hands tighten around the papers, his eyebrows come together in this cute way. his tie is a little crooked, too.

"are you struggling with the content?"

"sometimes, yeah. but I can handle reaching out for help if I need it." I reply. he's pissing me off with these questions. I can see from the expression on his face that he's surprised by my reaction.

"really?" he slides some books into his messenger bag. that was definitely sarcastic; I know it was. "because it doesn't really seem like you have."

"I like to find help on my own." I shoulder my bag and cross my arms over my chest. there's no way he's gonna talk to me like that and expect me to not respond in kind.

"I'm reserving a slot on Wednesday evening for you," he looks up and holds my gaze. hazel irises that dare me to challenge him further. "I want you in office hours so that we can figure out how you're gonna catch up before the midterm."

"fine." I turn on my heel and leave. I know I'm not supposed to talk to my professor like that, or even to behave with such apprehension. but something about him makes me angry in the kind of way that settles in my stomach. I hate that he's right. I'm not going to do well on that damn test if I don't get some help.

but that doesn't mean I can't have some fun with it.

when I rush into his office on Wednesday evening, the sun is just starting to set through his window. there's a pinkish glow that smooths over Dr. Reid's desk as he glances up at me. I had to run to get here.

"you're late." he nods to the clock on the wall. I roll my eyes.

"only one minute, though. I had another class."

he sighs and folds his hands on his desk. "how are you doing today, Ms. Y/L/N?" a strangely polite question for the look on his face. he's frustrated with me.

"I'm quite well, Dr. Reid." I smile brightly, slightly excited by the anger on his face, and sit at the chair in front of his desk.

"I didn't know you were interested in art." he says simply. I'm confused for a moment before I remember that I told him that the course before his is a studio lesson.

"I didn't know you cared."

"do you make a habit of that?" he quirks an eyebrow.

"of what?" my expression is saccharine.

"being rude to people who control your grades."

"unless you're considering being unethical in your practices and allowing your personal opinion of me to influence my grade, then no." I counter. he's silent for a moment, taking in my words like they've left a mark on him.

"well, you'd most likely fail if I asked you to leave my office hours right now. whose fault would that be?" he fidgets with his hands and leans forward just a bit, his voice dropping to a lower tone. I bite back a smile.

"you wouldn't."

"and why is that?" he baits.

"because you're not a shitty professor, Dr. Reid," I lean back in my chair and cross my legs. "as angry as you are, you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you kicked me— a struggling student— out of here for giving you a little attitude."

"a little attitude?" he scoffs. "you've spent the whole semester completely ambivalent."

"not completely." I shrug.

"Y/N, you draw all over your tests and leave at least one problem half-finished every time. you obviously aren't learning." he chuckles mirthlessly. I concede this point; I like to doodle when I'm bored. and there's absolutely nothing more boring to me than numbers.

"okay," I sit up and rest my elbows on the edge of his desk, staring at him. "then teach me."

Dr. Reid holds my gaze for a long moment. we're suspended, it seems, as his lips part and he finds himself speechless. the way I said the words obviously has another layer to it-- he just has to decide whether or not to take the bait.

"what are you struggling with?" he clears his throat and sits up a bit straighter in his seat. that answers my question, I guess. I poke my tongue between my teeth gently, but then pull out my notebook and flip it to a page with some problems outlined on it.

"these." I toss the thing onto his side and he begins to run through the assignment. I watch him pick up a pen and start to explain the steps, slipping into his usual educational tone. his shoulders relax a little as he writes.

I can't see right from the angle I'm at, so I stand and come around onto his side. I hear him pause his speaking for a moment at my proximity, but he doesn't move away.

"does that make sense?" he asks me once he's finished running through the first problem. he basically did all the work. the professor's head turns to gauge my reaction to the explanation, but his eye line is right at the hem of my skirt-- which is already pretty short. for all his attempts to be subtle, he gulps and looks up at me.

"mostly." I brush a piece of hair behind my ear and pretend to scratch at a spot on my upper thigh, dragging the edge of my skirt with it until he can see the smooth skin beneath, practically begging for his touch. "can I ask you a question?"

"sure." he keeps his eyes almost too focused on mine. I try to hide the smile tugging at my lips. now or never, I guess.

"what's your policy on professor/student relationships?"

"my-- my what?" this time, he's audibly scattered when he turns to me. his eyes are wide, dark. even he can't hide his feelings.

"you know," I run my fingertips over the tweed shoulder of his jacket. I can sense the tension beneath his clothes. "like, your policy on fucking a student."

"I--" his cheeks turn pink. he's flustered, albeit not rejecting my touch. "I've never had to think about it before."

"hmm," I look off to the side as if considering this point. his chair is fully turned to face me now, and I'm standing in front of him, almost completely his for the taking. all he has to do is close the gap. "well, what are you thinking about it right now?"

"it's wrong." he stumbles over the words.

"why?"

"well, I mean, you're a student--"

"for a semester that's almost over." I cut him off. he opens and closes his mouth. I take a deep breath, toying with the hem of my skirt. "I know you've been looking at me during class."

"w-what?"

"you're pretty good at hiding it, but you call on me a lot and you get all messed up when I hold eye contact too long during lectures." I say.

he looks down and back up apologetically. he's just sitting there, lap wide open. so I do what any sane girl in my position would do: I climb into it, straddling him and resting my arms around his neck. he sucks in a breath.

"you pretend I'm such a pain," I lean down by his ear, my core drawing over his pants. he tenses as I speak. "but you like that I'm your little problem."

"Y/N..." he trails off, but his hips are bucking up into mine.

"see?" I look between our bodies at his movements, then at him. I smirk as I look into those lust-darkened eyes. after a moment of him not speaking, I straighten. "look, I'll leave you alone if it really bothers you--"

as I start to get off his lap, he grabs me and pulls me back down. the force hits my center at just the right angle and I let out a slight mewl. he hears the sound and before I can register the pleasure, he grabs my face and yanks me closer to kiss him.

god, he feels so good. I rock my hips against his while our lips pass over each other hungrily. so much tension built up over the past few months, so many thoughts I've had of him, now coming to fruition. it's amazing.

"not so 'wrong' now, is it?" I chuckle against his mouth.

"shut up." he orders. one moment of broken contact to slide my top over my head and throw it on the floor.

I sigh as he starts to kiss across my jaw and down my throat. "I like when you talk like that, Dr. Reid."

one hand grips my hips tighter and he releases a groan against my skin.

"is that why you're such a fucking brat in my class?" he bites my collarbone and I moan. "because you want me to put you in your place?"

"mhmm." I hum. his fingertips move under my skirt, sliding up my thighs and toying with the waistband of my panties. he teases me by grazing my slit over the fabric, inhaling sharply at the wet patch.

"sitting in the back of my room, fucking dripping..." he mumbles to himself as he starts to rub me.

"touch me." I breathe out, trying to gain the friction that I need.

"not if you're gonna be a brat." he removes his hand and I let out a frustrated noise as I try to find the pressure I need elsewhere by grinding down on him. he grunts at the way I pant into his mouth, trying to kiss him with every chance I get. his lips are so smooth and sweet against mine. there's something affectionate about it even in its ferocity.

"I'll be good." I practically beg.

"that's what I thought." he slides his tongue over his bottom lip as he watches me whimper on top of him.

"come on, Spencer..." I use the name for the first time and he grabs my face in his hand, squeezing my cheeks.

"not my name, sweetheart." he stares into my eyes expectantly and I smirk.

"you're fucked up, doctor."

"so are you."

after he says that, he lifts me off his lap and stands up, pushing between my shoulder blades until my face is pressed onto the desk. I let out a needy whine, wiggle my ass back in hopes of finding his crotch, but he's not willing to give me that, yet.

instead, he gently touches my skirt, flipping it up so that he can see my ass. immediately, he starts to knead it. my palms are pressed flat against the desk with anticipation, silently thankful that my panties are still on. I think I'd be dripping down my thighs if they weren't.

"are you gonna be more respectful?" his voice is low, one hand tracing over my back. I shake.

"mhmm."

"I won't spank you if you don't use your words, sweetheart."

"yes." I choke out, no longer wanting to give any sort of resistance. I had no idea there was this side of him, and I love it.

he loves it too, apparently, because his hand comes down sharply on my ass. I yelp at the contact and he runs his fingers over the point of impact, rubbing the flesh gently.

"too hard, baby?" he checks.

"harder." I beg. I can't see his face, but I can sense his smile as if it's my own. his palm hits me again, and I gasp.

"you like being punished?"

"yes." strangled and desperate.

he slips his finger beneath the fabric of my panties, collecting my essence and letting out a quiet moan when he feels me. I push my hips against his fingers, partly expecting him to remove all the pressure, but he doesn't bother waiting.

he slips his index inside and I gasp. starts to push in and out, his silence proving his arousal. I can practically feel his eyes on me. the pace increases a bit and he slides in his middle finger. I buck against the desk.

"oh fuck!" I cry out as he starts to go faster. he curls them against my walls and I arch my back.

"two fingers and you're already breaking?" Spencer chuckles as he moves inside me. he keeps one hand on my ass while he does it, starting to finger me at a ridiculous speed while I pant and moan and cry.

"I--" I gulp down air. "I need you in it."

he bends down by my ear, never breaking his rhythm. my legs are shaking from the force. "you need my cock?"

"yes," I feel myself closing in around him. "god, yes."

"you're lucky I wanna fuck you so bad." he mutters. I grin as I hear the clink of his belt coming undone, the sliding through the belt loops, the sound of him stripping down to nothing. I can feel my excitement on the inside of my thighs, spread around by his reckless fingers as he removes my panties and skirt.

he grinds himself against my pussy, coating himself in me, while he releases low, longing moans. I suck in a breath when the head pushes in, every inch pushing me open a little more. I don't have the ability to form words, so I bite my lip and grip onto the edge of the desk until my knuckles turn white.

his breath stops for a moment before he groans.

"so ready for me."

he's not even all the way in, and he has to pause to let me adjust. when he taps the inside of my thigh for me to part them more, I do it quickly and beg him to fill me up. I can barely take the pressure between my hips, but it burns in an inviting way.

"keep going." I direct him. he runs his hands over the curve of my waist and starts to thrust into me at a rate that leaves me panting. it's not too fast or slow, just impatient and needy. every sound that spills from his lips turns me on more.

"where'd the attitude go, huh?" he digs his hips into mine. his cock hits my cervix and I squeak against the wood, but he holds my back down. I don't even try to argue with him, too overcome with the pleasure that's coursing through my limbs. he starts to build up his speed. "don't have much to say when you're getting fucked?"

"Dr. Reid--" I moan.

he plows into me so hard, the desk shifts on the floor and he grabs my ass with both hands.

"take it, baby. fucking take it."

I get up on my elbows to look behind me, just to glimpse how he looks as he gets closer. his curls have fallen more in his face, and his shirt is gone. I want to touch him desperately, to feel the lovely skin of his torso and arms and everything else, but he keeps me down for the most part. all I get is the sight of his mouth open and his hips moving quickly against mine.

"look at me, there you go." he grabs my face and holds me there, our eyes locked. mine are welling at the sheer overwhelming pleasure inside, but his are dark and intense. they search mine for something I can only hope to offer.

"that feels so good, Dr. Reid." I pant. he bites his lip as he watches my mouth hanging open in lecherous shock.

"I bet it does," he explores my body. "coming in here, hoping I fuck you like you deserve. you're lucky I'm going easy on you."

"thank you." I whine.

"you might need some extra lessons, yeah?" he grunts out, moving into me with a bruising force.

"yes, please." I whisper. my voice is practically gone at this point, my mind entirely focused on the knot building in my stomach.

"what was that, baby?" he pulls my hair gently.

"yes— fuck— yes, please, Dr. Reid."

"what a beautiful girl." he smirks. I whimper when he runs his fingernails down my ribcage. I can feel it coming from the way he starts to move tumultuously, every thrust pushing harder and seeking more release. it's fervent, how he takes me and grips my hips like the force itself will push him over the edge.

"I'm so close..." I breathe out as I try for as much friction as I can.

"show me," he drops down so his stomach is flush to my back. "show me how you cum, Y/N."

the way he says my name-- husky and warm and full of lust-- causes me to snap. I cry out as he reaches around to clamp a hand around my mouth, climaxing and pulsing around his dick as I drop down against the surface again. I want him to finish inside, so I do my best to keep him here. and his thrusts are getting more staccato as he chases the sensation my walls create.

"can I fill you, angel?" he asks. he's breathing right by my ear, and the feeling is sending shivers down my spine. I love how his weight feels.

"yes." I moan and he slides his fingers into my mouth. I suck on them while he orgasms, jerking into my pussy and letting out unholy sounds of ecstasy. he says unintelligible things in the throes of his orgasm. pounds into me until I'm sure I won't be able to walk tomorrow.

"jesus christ, Y/N." he slows to a stop. when he pulls his cock out of me, the absence makes me whine. I miss his body already.

"oh my god." I clench my hands into fists as I try to catch my breath. I'm still bent over the desk as though I've been completely sapped of all my energy. I suppose I have. he doesn't touch me for a moment in the spirit of letting me recover from the small shudders still running over my skin.

"that was great." he says after we've both had time to fill our lungs. I push myself onto my elbows again.

"correct." I grin and straighten up more until I'm standing. he stares at me, at the cum now dripping down my legs, entranced.

"let me get you something to clean up." he snaps out of it a little. I can't stop looking at him, either, in love with the way he moves and the way he breathes after exerting himself on my body.

"come here." I bite my lip. for some reason, despite what we just did, this is scarier than everything else. he steps closer and I reach up, kiss him softly. part of me worries that he'll pull away and be terrified. maybe that he'll tell me that I've read too much into this.

he's much gentler than before. our first kiss was full of need and primal desire, but this is more affectionate. I remove myself from his embrace.

"okay, you can go now." I giggle. his fingertips linger on my waist and he smiles. I push his shoulder. "I literally have your cum all over me-- go."

"fine." he starts to put his clothes on.

"does this mean I get an A?" I joke. Spencer shakes his head.

"nice try. when we're done cleaning you up, we're gonna sit down and figure this out."

I let out a whine, and he kisses my cheek before looking me in the eyes. "it'll be fun. I promise."

"math is not fun."

"I can't believe I like a girl who doesn't enjoy such a beautiful subject." he rolls his eyes and I giggle. he's perfect.

[lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie]

Bad Things Happen Bingo: Sanders Sides

Forgetting To Eat

[Roman centric, romantic prinxiety]

WARNINGS: CW FOOD MENTION, CW HUNGER, CW SWEARING

Pairings: prinxiety

(A/N: card provided by @badthingshappenbingo)

----

Roman feels his empty stomach churn and twist but he ignores it. He’s back at his desk again, working away or doing his best to do so. This was already the sixth sheet of paper he’s working on. His desk is a mess, papers and books and art supplies flooding the surface. Roman continues writing, pausing when he feels his elbow nudges something. He blinks and looks over, seeing a plate of cookies on his desk. Huh. How long had those been there? Then again, how long had he been hunched over like this?

Grumble Grumble

Roman checks the clock as he dumps the cookies in the trash. Again.

12am. Oh fuck.

So that long, huh? Roman sighs and stretches before standing up, groaning as his joints and spine ache from being locked in that hunched position. After another good stretch, Roman quietly slips out of his room. Sure, he could just sink out into the kitchen but he’s trying to avoid running into two certain sides. Three if Remus decided to lurk around again while ‘sampling’ the cleaning stuff under the sink. Roman rubs at his stomach again and tiptoes all the way down to the kitchen only to blink when he sees the light still on under the door. Tilting his head, he enters the kitchen to see-

“Virgil?”

Hiss!

“A warning, princey!”

Roman smiles sheepishly.

“Sorry, little bat. I didn’t know you were here. What, um, what are you doing here?”

Virgil sighs and catches his breath, totally not flustering at the pet name.

“Couldn’t sleep without you and I got bored waiting so I was going to grab a snack and maybe a bottle of gatorade.” he replies, hopping off the counter. 

Roman smiles sheepishly again, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Oh. Sorry to make you wait, Darkling. I got caught up in my creative work again.” he says, sighing.

“Again, Ro?”

“Logan wanted those ideas down by morning. I thought I’d be done before midnight but I guess I lost track of time.”

Virgil sighs.

“Why don’t you tell him you need a break?” he asks, frowning a little at how Logan doesn’t seem to care about Roman’s health like he does for Thomas’ health.

“And listen to him lecture about productivity and being on time and how I never seem to accomplish that? No thanks.” Roman replies.

Roman runs a hand through his messy hair and that’s when Virgil notices something he should’ve noticed sooner. From that quick movement alone, Roman’s shirt had rode up and he could see how skinny Roman had gotten. Roman used to have a good body, keeping it toned and in shape through adventures or sparring and training. Then one day, Roman suddenly went on less and less quests, staying in his room longer and longer to the point where Virgil hardly ever saw him at dinner or in the living room or even during movie nights. Roman loved movie nights.

Virgil can’t blame him though. Things have been rough lately and he too didn’t exactly want to be at the same table as Patton and ugh, Deceit. Still, he misses Roman. He knows Roman has his work but he’s been locking himself away so much. Even if Virgil drops in from time to time, Roman still refuses to leave his desk unless Virgil forces him away. Virgil can’t even count the amount of times he’s found Roman either asleep at his desk or passed out on the floor. Sighing, Virgil shakes his head.

���Ro, babe, you don’t have to overwork yourself just to please Logan, y’know? Meeting some impossible deadline isn’t worth starving. Even if we’re figment thingies, our health still matters. After all, Thomas needs all of us to be healthy so he can be healthy.” he says, cupping Roman’s face.

Roman sighs, leaning into Virgil’s touch and wincing when his stomach growls again.

“Funny, coming from the embodiment of Anxiety.” he chuckles tiredly.

Virgil chuckles back.

“I know but we’re working on that. But for now, will you let me help you, my prince?”

Roman flushes.

“But my work-”

“Can wait until you’re refreshed. Logan can fuck off if he thinkgs you’re unproductive and late. He doesn’t know shit about how hard you work too. Hell, I want to see him try and do what you do.” Virgil cuts him off, fight mode sparking in his eyes just for Roman.

Roman flushers more, shyly averting his eyes. It’s odd to have the roles swapped but here they are. Then again, Roman does struggle with receiving compliments. Yay, trust issues.

“Won’t the others smell the food though? What if Remus is lurking around?” he asks next, though not too worried about Remus. 

“It’s the middle of night, Ro. Everyone should be dead asleep. Remus too. Pretty sure he tired himself out trying to annoy Logan again.” Virgil reassures him.

Roman sighs and gives in, his stomach starting to ache from not eating all day.

“Okay...can you um, make me spaghetti? With the garlic bread bites?” he asks, rubbing his tummy.

Virgil chuckles and kisses his boyfriend’s forehead.

“Of course, my prince.”

Roman reddens.

“Virgiiiil!” he whines.

Virgil chuckles and sheds his hoodie (gasp), tying it around his waist.

“Go have your gay panic at the table.” he says, washing his hands.

“You’re lucky I love you, little bat.”

“Love you too, dork.”

Roman shakes his head fondly and moves to sit at the kitchen table. His head spins a little but he knows it’ll go away once he eats. He sighs and glances towards the living room. It’s empty but flashes of conversations past flicker here and there. A smooth voice starts to call out to him but before he could follow it, something distracts him and he blinks as the scent of garlic and pasta replaces the living room scene. He turns and he sees Virgil through the little kitchen window, humming quietly as he starts making spaghetti sauce. Roman smiles softly. Maybe Virgil was right. He deserved a break and it was going to start with Virgil’s heavenly spaghetti. Don’t tell Patton.

[mooshs-crack-headcanons]

Uhm...surprise!

Giveaway winner for @ophoney Full NSFW alphabet w/ Eustass Kid!

I'm so sorry with my breaks, sudden interest dip for one piece, and Kid being a character I struggle writing for, I'm so sorry that this took as long as it did but it's finally here! I really hope you enjoy! 

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Answered here. 

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Eutass Kid is most definitely a boob/pec type of guy and blood just absolutely gushes to his dick if you so happen to wear clothing that shows them off. During sexy times the very moment your shirt is pulled off your head it's guaranteed that his mouth will latch onto your nipples (and sometimes he'll even give the occasional honk with his hand) He just really likes the squishy feeling in his hand, lips, and under his teeth it doesn't matter how big or small your chest is a chest and he wants nothing more but to rub his cock between and just soak it with his come. It's very common to find both smudges of his lipstick and flakes of dried come smeared on your chest afterwards. 

On himself he would have to say - besides whole damn body (he knows he looks good) if he had to make a decision it would have to be his arms - well now just arm thanks to Red Haired, the man is strong and it about gets right to his dick if while sitting on his lap either on the deck of the Victoria Punk or in some booth at a random bar you just ran your fingers down ever so teasingly down his arms to come and give his muscles a squeeze (a honk, if you will) and this gets him extra hard and so since he loves getting a little rough with you be expected not to be in your place on his lap for very long to be slammed down on any given surface with his strength before clenching on tightly to your wrist and going to town on you from behind all the while he mutters all the dirtiest things to your ear anyone near be dammed (and Killer has had to apologize to countless of bar owners in the new world because of his captain's horny decisions) 

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Kid's cum is extremely thick and given his appetite, it tastes sort of bland but nothing too bad. He definitely likes seeing it on your skin, his personal favorite thing to do is busting inside of you then pulling out and watching all of his juices just flood out of your hole, that and how you look at him with lust dulled eyes and how your lips look as you pant down from your high, it's just the type of sight that always gets him ready for more rounds. 

The man treats your come as if it were crack once he gets some he can't get enough of it with how he's addicted to the way you taste. If he could, he would fucking live off of it. Sure receiving is fun and all but Kid has learned that giving is just as good, his oral game is very strong sure the first few times can be awkward but once he gets the full mental view of your body and all of your spots in his head he memorizes them and actively seeks them out to get you screaming for him. The moment your juices wash over his face does a wide grin appear on his soaked face as he tears away from your sex so you can get a good look at him to see his lipstick smudged (now smeared all over your thighs) and red hair disheveled and stuck to his forehead from sweat, before you can say anything his grin widens before commenting on how fucking good you taste before diving right back in to rock your world for more. 

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Kid and Killer have been best friends since they were kids so the two completely trust each other completely to where I see Kid having no problem with sharing a bed partner with him and the two have had done so for many years. Sure neither of them will just casually bring it up in conversation but if you just so happen to find out and are down for it, I don't think either of them would decline. 

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

So like D implied he definitely has had several on and off again and one night flings that would last depending on however long the crew would stay on an island to know the basics of what to do in bed. Although back then these flings were nothing more than entertainment or just a distraction from deeper inner struggles with himself, sex was just sex and besides the basic needs of that nights partner he'd tend to be really selfish and mostly focus on his on pleasures. But once he's with you and knows you're both in it for the long hall he learns how to balance pleasure out for the both of you to where both of your needs are greatly satisfied, after he is going to become King of the Pirates after he beats Kaido and Red Haired's asses and for you to be the one right there by his side with him and the rest of the crew you definitely deserve to know his both appreciation and adoration. 

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Answered here. 

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Sometimes he can be goofy without even realizing it. Like the two of you can be in the middle of doing the dirty where he's has a tight grip on your hip as he bounces you up and down his cock taking in your moans and cries and in his head he'll try and think of something smooth and sexy to say, which is a skill he can definitely do, but sometimes the sexy thought barrel just gets a few cogs stuck and he just says...the most random funny 'sexy' shit, the type that brings you out of the pleasure mindset and and to physically stop yourself from laughing. This of course gets Kid to stop mid thrust into you to demand what's so damn funny and at that that point you just lose it (this makes a pouty grumpy Kid but just give him some kisses and you should get yourself back into favor) 

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Kid is surprisingly very taken care of down there since he definitely cares a lot about his hygiene. The hair there is slightly lighter to the tulip that's on his head. 

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

Now Kid isn't just the rough powerhouse magnet man we all came to know and love, he can actually be a gentleman at times and sometimes full blown romantic at others...just in his own way. He can be plowing you full steam ahead his hand grip tightly in yours and in grunts and groans tell you how fucking hot you looked whilst you fought those marines but his hand is tightly clasped in yours and kisses pecked all over your lower jaw to your neck before biting into your skin, taking in every moment as if it was his last. He can go multiple rounds but he always makes sure that you've at least came twice from either his tongue, fingers, or (and more preferably) his cock, he finds your needs extremely detrimental for any sexual situation and is determined to show how much he loves and appreciates you by this because those three words to him are extremely hard to personally say for him at times. 

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Yes, he'll shamelessly admit he does it often when he's feeling for it, though not as much these days now that you're around he does what to save as much of it as he can for you after all...

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Facial; honestly on both of you, but most you. Like I said in C, Kid absolutely looks the look of his come on your skin so seeing it sprayed on your face is just absolutely gold to him. 

Praise; it's simple it feeds his ego but also self esteem.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He's down for doing it anywhere, but if he had to pick at least a few he'd pick; his personal shower because you both can get an easy clean then afterwards and his desk in his workshop because not only can he easily just easily fling things off of it with his fruit (since most things on it are metal) just having you bent over where he works is like one of the hottest images in the world. 

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Kid is still young so his sex drive is quite high so it's doesn't take much to get him horny, but one definite sure way is by either doing what I said in B squeezing (honking) his arms or wearing something that shows off your chest it'll immediately get his rocks going. 

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Kid is down to try most reasonable things at least once but he isn't a fan of using his devil fruit in bed despite the creative things he's thought of doing with it but he doesn't want to risk it by accidentally hurting you.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Like I said in C, his oral game is strong and after being your throat feels like heaven around his cock and he's absolutely addicted to your taste so honestly he can go either way. 

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Given his nature, Kid does tend to be on the rougher side but given the situation or circumstance Kid can be extremely gentle and absolutely loving. 

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Absolutely 100% down at any given time just say the word and Kid will whip it out in the nearest supply closet or alley (and poor Wire has a really bad habit of stumbling upon you two at the worst possible times)

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

This is Kid we're talking about, of course he's game for taking risks so doing the dirty in public absolutely thrills him. He loves pounding so restlessly into you as you have to bite on the back of your hand to keep any noises from slipping out any louder for him only to snap into you do sudden, hard, and fast that you completely gasp out and moan out his name before immediately slamming your hand back over your mouth and looking back pissed at him. Ah, it brings him such joy. 

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Like stated previously, Kid is still pretty young to have a high drive in him so he can rock your world for hours at a time in about 5-6 rounds before then conking out on you. 

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Yeah with the necessary resources I'd say he'd be able to build his own sex gadgets yo use on you, toys always brings a new twist to things, not that things get boring but it's always nice to have a breath of new fresh air once in awhile. 

Although to use them on himself...Kid would hesitant at first but after some convincing, he does try it out and oh boy - does he fucking enjoy it. They're of course nothing compared to you but they're definitely something, and for you seeing Kid turned from well...Kid to a whimpering whining mess is always a treat to savor.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Eutass Kid is one of the biggest teases of them all, both in and out of the bedroom. But in a bedroom sense, he likes to touch you and please you right like you want him to and the moment you almost crossed the threshold of pleasure he'll pull away with a grin telling you if you want to come so bad you're going to have to give him a damn good reason why he should let you. Cheeky bastard he is. But not to worry, he won't let you hanging for long (as soon as you beg for him at least) 

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Answered here. 

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Kid doesn't say "I love you" a lot but there are the moments he does which are the instances he puts all of his guards and facades down and just lets you have all him. One such instance was right after he lost his arm; feeling humiliated and dead set on planning revenge Kid completely shut himself off from the rest of the crew, especially you and Killer, you're the two he feels he's let down the most after all. So of course when you try and talk to him about this he shuts you off and when you tell him he's doing just that and that you're trying to support him a loud argument breaks out - but not the usual 'Kid flips over a table and some sort of scrap metal gets thrown somewhere' argument Kid completely opens up in the most cold harshest tone and tells you how he's failed the entire crew and how he's a disgrace of a captain for letting Red Haired get away with what he did. After that the both of you go quiet as the captain slumps back to his desk in defeat. After a very long discussion the sex between the two of you that night is the most sensual you've ever had, Kid isn't rough he's practically putty in your hands as he slumps back on the pillows behind him and watches as you ride him. Kisses are pressed everywhere and while you grip tightly onto him as you get closer to your end, he says it loud and clear. It honestly shocks you at first until he repeats it again and again until you both release. In your sweaty afterglow haze his hand hesitantly cups your cheek so that you meet the very serious yet loving look in his eyes and he says the words again, promising you he's going to personally change all of this and he's going to everything in his power to find the one piece to become King. 

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Not a surprise but Kid acts like a huge dick and he most definitely has one to match, like previously mentioned he's pretty well groomed down there. 

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Again like stated previously, Kid's sex drive is high he can on on for a long time and his horny average with you in the picture and you're down to it is about at least once every other few days. 

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Immediately conks out after a few minutes after busting, or sometimes immediately. He'll try to talk to you after it but eventually goes "nah fuck it, sleep." and passes out. Although it's after a quickie and there's still shit to be done he is able to compose himself to get done whatever it was he's supposed to do (bit it does encourage him to do the task faster, the man wants body holding (cuddling) time and sleep. 

If you like what you read please consider reblogging! It means the world for writers and artists!

[jostepherjoestar]

Hewwo queen😔if you're still taking requests, could I ask one with la squadra and an artist s/o? Thank you💕💕💕

La Squadra with an artist s/o

sfw // gn reader // First of all... this was the request I mentioned before. I want everyone the address me with “Hewwo Queen😔” from now on!! it make me laugh so hard cause it reminds me of the “then perish” meme thanks for the lovely request <3

Risotto

Risotto admires your talent, often times when he’s trying his best to relax for once, he finds himself looking through your sketchbooks and drawings. He loves seeing your progress and noticing how you always seem to capture the lighting right.

When he gets to your most recent sketchbooks he starts to notice a familiar figure pop up a lot. Himself. Drawn in all sort of poses, his muscles being a great way to study body shapes as you tried to explain with a cheeky grin on your face when he asks you to explain your drawings of him.

On a quiet night you snuck up to your tall boyfriend, as well as you could sneak up on an assassin, with a present behind your back. Excited to see his reaction you handed him the wrapped canvas. Risotto made sure not to rip the pretty wrapping and had a stern look on his face as he saw the surface of the painting. You knew not to expect too much from him reaction wise so you were curious to hear what he had to say.

He just kept staring at the canvas, it was a painting of the only picture you had together. Privacy being a real issue in Passione. You’d asked Melone to take the photo when Risotto was asleep and you posed beside him, kissing him on the cheek. You’d showed him the picture, promising to keep it on you at all times and not to show it to anyone.

“I love it. So much, really darling this- Thank you.” he almost sounded flustered, reaching out to hug you. His reaction was so sweet, you knew he truly loved it. He placed it on the wall near his desk so he could look at it whenever he was working away, like most nights. A couple days later you found a wrapped pencil case on your drawing desk, new pencils, your favourite kind. A little stick man drawn on the card that said “I love you” in a crooked text bubble.

Formaggio

He’s in constant awe of how good you are, constantly praising you and showing off to anyone who’ll listen. He once showed a small drawing you did of a flower he kept in his wallet to a waiter while paying for the meal, embarrassing you to the max.

Seeing you study plants, people, landscapes, buildings, lighting, shadows, basically everything, he tried to see the world through your artistic eyes. He’d never really payed attention to expressing himself that way so he was curious to try.

Setting up canvasses or sketchbooks, all sorts of materials laid out in front of you to experiment with. You set up a still life on the table in front of you, a vase of flowers and some fruit strewn about. Assuring him this isn’t about how pretty or perfect the result is, but about how he sees the setup and wants to express it on the canvas or paper.

After both finishing you’re amazed by the colours he used and how abstract he painted the flowers and fruits. Your complements boosting his confidence. “But you’re still the real artist here sweetheart.” he said as he squeezed your hip as he admired your sketch.

You put his little painting in a frame and set it on your drawing desk, reminding yourself of your number one fan whenever you looked at it. It became a new relaxing activity for the two of you to enjoy with a glass of wine and snacks as you painted and drew together.

Illuso

Illuso loves art, but in particular he loves renaissance art. Whenever you two can, you’ll visit a gallery to admire the large paintings and sculptures. Illuso is quite judgy as well, offering no soft commentary on work he doesn’t enjoy. It’s mostly modern art he doesn’t like.

You try out different styles every now and then whenever you feel stuck in your own personal one, seeing if it could inspire you. To help in those situations Illuso has bought you multiple heavy books on his favourite painters. He isn’t afraid to venture into more recent styles, but he keeps it mostly to Italian or European artists.

When you tried out a more modern style in your newest experiment, he was surprised that he liked it as much as he did. “This is actually pretty good amore.” the complement sounding perhaps more like an insult, but you knew he meant it well.

Illuso himself however couldn’t draw, paint, sculpt or even photograph. He just had a hard time expressing himself in an artistic way, commenting one day that  “Can’t I just be the art myself?” earning a chuckle from you.

Prosciutto

Now Prosciutto likes art, classical paintings and sculptures but he doesn’t pay them any mind for too long. Yes it’s nice to look at but honestly he’d rather spend his time on other stuff. So when he met you he learned to appreciate art more. You’d show him around your workspace and show him the projects you’re working on.

The more you showed him the more he realised that being an artist isn’t just a hobby, it could also be a job as well. He never really thought it about it this way, realising that art is literally all around him. You were able to broaden his view, that you teased was sometimes a little too narrow.

He looks up to you for being able to express you thoughts and ideas and make something beautiful out of them.

As a gang member who has a lot of responsibility he prefers to spend his little amount of free time with the people he loves and trusts, like sitting around reading the paper or a book while you’re working away at your next piece.

Whenever you make him something, be it a drawing, painting, sculpture, and tell him he inspired it he will try his best not to blush. Taking you into a tight hug to cover up his face, thanking you for thinking of him. Honestly he loves that you’re creative and made him open his eyes a little more to the world he thought he already knew so well.

Pesci

The two of you have a cute tradition ever since you started going out together. A couple dates in, he slid you a napkin, face flushed red, with a scraggily drawn Pesci asking if he could be your boyfriend. Of course you happily accepted, having kept the napkin and pinned it to your wall next to your bed. Since then every time you go out and there’s a napkin around the two of you draw each other a funny figure or object.

To the other’s chagrin sometimes, creating way too many inside jokes that they don’t get. What do they not get, it’s a bowl of pasta with cheese on it saying “Cheesed to meet you!”

Besides the cute napkin drawings you store safely in a box, Pesci loves helping you out whenever he can. If you need him to help transport stuff he’ll gladly rent a car and drive, making sure that the ride becomes a cute little date.

He’ll always cheer you on when you feel stuck, doing whatever he can to aid you. Or if you’re having another failed all nighter, fallen asleep on your desk, he’ll come pick you up and carry you to bed. Blushing when you kiss him on the nose to thank him for it.

Melone

Melone absolutely loves that you’re an artist! He loves analysing art and the way people respond to it, the human psyche just really excites him. Often times asking people what they were feeling or what they interpreted when looking at your work. Like he was asking around for a survey, it was just his own curiosity.

He also loves modelling for you. You want him to sit in the garden on a rock between the rose bushes? No problem! Nude? NO PROBLEM! He’ll suggest it every time you ask him to model, assuring him that you won’t need another upclose muscle study for a fourth time this week.

He’ll be your personal promoter and manager if you want him to be, making sure if you want a personal gallery opening that you don’t get scammed for rent and that you can hike up the prices just a tiny little more on your own pieces. He’ll get you connected faster than the speed of light if you want him to.

But most of all he admires how hard you work and the effort you put into your art. He sees a piece of you in every project. You’ll find him staring at your work, a love struck look in his eyes. He’s quite a sappy guy when it comes to this stuff.

Just be sure to not let him near anyone who doesn’t like your work. Another attempt at murder at a gallery opening is not the publicity you want.

Ghiaccio

Ghiaccio loves abstract colourful art. Other styles that are too complicated or overhyped just makes him annoyed. He loves the simplicity of it, not paying any mind to any hidden meanings. If you do a lot of stuff in a modern or abstract style he’d pay you for the pieces even though he’s your partner. He just really loves supporting you and knows some people don’t compensate artists enough.

You were surprised at his interest, thinking him to not have the temper for art. Although you did discover, during a visit to a new modern exhibit in a local gallery, that Ghiaccio HATED it when the artists act pretentious and the vision of their work doesn’t match up with Ghiacco’s. Mumbling under his breath how “It’s just a square, a beautiful one yes, but it’s not representing how your mom didn’t love you!”.

You don’t comment too much on the meaning behind the modern pieces, he doesn’t seem like he wants to think about it anyway. So you let him enjoy the colourful shapes in his own way.

For his birthday you’d painted an abstract shapely piece in his colours; icy blue’s and the pop of red from his glasses and shoes. Swirly shapes that represented his hair. When you presented it to him his eyes lit up, earning you a passionate kiss that lasted a little too long, you had the rest of La Squadra waiting to eat the birthday dinner, eyerolls and clearing throats making Ghiacco let go with an annoyed growl. He loved it, since you made it and customised to him, he’ll cherish it forever.  

[youwontlikethisblog]

Betty, My Betty! Part 2.5 (Hopefully the last one)

Alrighty, I think this will be my last post for tonight? This morning? But it is still in the same vine of Armando being possessive so he is the main subject of this breakdown but I will also be discussing Mario a lot here so this in an attempt to be the final post regarding this episode will be a lengthy one.

Again I accidently bought the bootleg version of the novela so some scenes and episodes are missing as well as the chapters aren't titled.

We are in the same episode of Armando reacting to Betty having a boyfriend.

Right now Betty is exiting her office, she just hung up the phone with Nicolas who warned her that they needed to pay a loan to the bank because their 24 or 27 days were up.

Mario is leaning over Armando's desk and Armando is leaning forward as they are both discussing and whispering (that part is so short you can't really pick at what they're talking about but you can imagine what it is. I'm assuming that while Mario was telling Armando not to question or judge Betty on her personal life that Betty was in her office on the phone with Nicolas and when Mario leaned forward to talk to Armando Betty was about to end her call so they are essentially talking about how to go about finding out who Betty's boyfriend is) something I cannot hear. As Betty fully exits her office Mario moves from being up front to in the back of the room by the doors that take us to the meeting room. He looks Betty down and up as if checking her out.

This small frame(I don't know if when they were whispering it was them arguing over Mario's proposal of the plan or if Mario hadn't proposed it yet and it was just them talking about how to find out who Nicolas is because again, since this bootleg version isn't the complete one some scenes are missing so I could be wrong about this one! but the episode I saw on NBC showed the exact same scene so I'm going by the first "(red)" in the paragraph above) allows us to depict Mario coming up or starting to scheme the plan.

We know Mario Calderon will screw anything that has legs, wears skirts, and breathes and consents that is(<-hopefully). Every woman who has had a seggsual relationship with him has said so. Marcela warned Paty about it before they got involved so I'm assuming that in this scene Mario is checking out Betty to see if it's possible for someone to really love(lust) her and if not than he needs to figure out a plan and a way to convince Armando to follow through said plan.

When you're writing a novel you write down the key points you want to make but as you imagine certain scenes you really delve into detail of characterization. You make sure that whatever happens in that scene that your characters behave as themselves. So you really spend time getting to know your characters. This is a general rule of thumb for any creative writer. The plus of being a novelist or writing literature is that you can really go deep into details and write scenes in really long poetic ways. I don't know how to write scripts but I've read some from TV shows I've watched and they are written differently than a novel. Scripts have more dialogue than poetic descriptions and they are usually blunt with what the writer wants from each character in that scene.

For example: (Take this with a grain of salt I don't know how to write scripts I am going off based on how I've read them)

Ana walks into the room. The camera focuses on her face. There's lighting outside and we see the lighting flash on her face.

Julian turns to see her. He is surprised to see her. He thought she was dead. He stands up slowly. The camera focuses on his face and then Ana's.

She smiles at him, tears forming in her eyes.

"Is that re-really you?" He stutters. He then walks slowly towards her.

In a script you write where the camera goes, where the actors move, the facial expressions, the mood of the room, and so forth. Yes directors do have a say on how they choreograph scenes and actors can add their own two cents but script writers have a pretty good idea of everything that is going on the scene and why it is. If in novel writing(that's not the correct term) we focus a lot on how the reader will imagine the scene and being able to correctly and artistically discribe it as well as how they will understand it because we are not focusing on visual cues like script writers but rather focused on using words to be able to paint a inner visual picture than in scripts the writer usually focuses on tone and movement. The same rule still stands though; show don't tell.

Why do I even bring this up?

This helps us understand that what is shown here isn't just an accident. We aren't being fed what we're told, we are being fed what we see. What we see is the final vision of the writer. Fernando Gaitan was the only one to write this novel and he wrote every detail with the intention of it to mean something.

I have no doubt that the actors added their own flavor as they are excellent actors and the reason why we were able to fall in love with these character. The directing is amazing as well. The scene cuts, the frames, and the choreo are amazing(tho some stills are funny and y'all know which ones) but the writing has a lot to do with it. If anyone is a script writer or knows what that's about correct me if I'm wrong!

I say this because what we are being told and shown is that Armando had feelings for Betty and not a crush like Betty did. He actually cared about her, as a friend. I know many don't agree with that because Armando was a crappy boss. We see them always interact as boss and employee but the reason why I continue to bring up the fact that he started to blur those lines is because we were being told and shown that.

Armando is mechanical. He is emotionless to the outsiders. As he once told Betty that she probably thinks he is a man of ice and later on in the future we see Betty daydream telling Marcela that she knows Armando acts like he's got a heart of stone but deep inside of him he needs a lot of love. However Armando isn't a man of iron and he tells that to Betty himself.

We are told this but what are we shown?

We are shown an erratic, often driven by emotion, and neutronic person. Now the people he has surrounded himself with aren't the most loving and welcoming people. They are pretty judgy and stuck up. So often the emotions he shows and knows how to distinguish well are anger, frustration, and most of all being erratic with the emotions mentioned above. These emotions drive him. The people around him think that he is a man of stone and that nothing moves him. However we then meet a woman who isn't like that at all or like any of the people he has surrounded himself with.

This person is kind, loving, respectful, and sweet to everyone. She loves her job, loves her friends, loves her family and secretly loves her boss. In a very poetic way Betty is color in an otherwise black and white world. She brings warmth to Armando and because they work so closely, how is he not supposed to be affected by this? How is he not supposed to be changed and moved by this?

He is an awe of her morals, of Betty's qualities and her general presence and though we aren't bluntly told this by the characters themselves we are shown this and it's not by accident and not by mistakes of post production.

Take a break if you need it.

It isn't an accident that we see Mario so much in these scenes just standing in the background taking it all in because he truly is the mastermind behind Betty's downfall. He truly mapped out and planned the way to seduce Betty and how to manipulate Armando and didn't even care if it hurt her or his best friend. What he cared about was that his best friend remained President because titles mean everything to him. As we saw in the past when Armando and him were arguing over the deal with the Panamanian fabric seller, while Armando focused on how it not only affected him and the major shareholders but everyone, Mario reminded him that he was also a minority shareholder, but a shareholder nonetheless. Armando's inner turmoil was that he was jeopardizing the livelihood of not only the company's shareholders, and his family but the entire company's employee roster while Mario was more focused on himself, telling him that he too had a lot to lose but not understanding what really weighted down Armando's shoulders.

Think about it, Mario in a sense is a leech. He gets the crumbs of women Armando doesn't want. If I'm not mistaken in the spinoff Eco Moda Mario himself says that women only ever showed interest in him because they wanted to get close to Armando. Mario lives off of the crumbs of Armando, not only with women but socially. Armando is one of the major shareholders of Eco Moda, he's attractive, charismatic, and an important figure in society and not only among the Fashion world like Mario is. Mario Calderon wasn't going to let his best friend lose the title of being President for anything because than it would be bad for him. It would be bad for his reputation to have been his close friend and accomplice to Armando while also being a part of a disastrous presidency term in the company.

Mario is charismatic, one could even say a lot more than Armando seeing as I myself even like him even when I know all of this about his character. I find him funny, charming, and at times endearing but of course that's when you look at him on a surface level.

Mario Calderon is despicable. He is downright selfish and egocentric down to the bone. He maps out this plan so easily because he knows his two victims well. He has seen Armando's disagreements with Marcela, he has witnessed first hand Armando's change towards Betty and silently observed Betty's interactions with Armando. He himself has thrown out his conclusions on Betty's actions by a simple snip bits of conversation that he's either been in the room to hear or heard from Armando himself.

Who better to make Betty fall in love than Armando? Because Betty has those feelings there and who better to do be the one to do this than Armando? Not only because those feelings are there but because Armando can stomach the job. The man who is confused about his feelings and behaving erratically and emotionally driven than Armando?

Because Armando proposes for Calderon to do it. At first Calderon is grossed out by the idea but Armando presents everything telling him he isn't the boss, that he has no morals and he was perfect for the job. Mario agrees with all of that, even asks for a bigger percentage of shareholding and Armando agrees. This gives us the understanding that Mario would be willing to seduce Betty.

I realize this contradicts my own personal opinion that Armando agreed to do this because it meant he was saving Betty from Nicolas but lets remember that Armando was afraid to face those feelings and he wasn't even aware that they were there. Here Armando and Mario weren't talking about love, as he thinks Betty is so in love with Nicolas that he is her eternal love and that Nicolas would take advantage of that and poison her against them, they are talking about seduction, meaning seggsual. Which I've said before Armando thinks lust is love and therefore that if he ain't wanting to jump they bones in that instant that it cain't be love therefore my mans thought he had no feelings for Betty(idk why bc we do get two scenes where he checks her out briefly (I am sure of this because it's the episode where Betty tripped and was limping and when Mario brought it up Armando asked if she didn't already walk like that, if he had been noticing her walk than he would have been aware of the limp but his eyesight went from the top of Betty's head all the way down. Do with that information what you'd like :)) and where he gets jealous when Charlie Zas kissed her cheek(someone once said that they were celos de jefe and excuse me ma'am jealousy is jealousy and a normal boss would not feel that. If my boss or manager ever did that I woulda done been fired in that instant))

Take a break if you need it.

Okay return back to this scene.

While Calderon does this mila second rundown of Betty, Armando and him share a stare. Either Armando wants the room to himself or is looking at him for a confidence boost. Then Mario nods and lets him know he'll leave them be.

Armando sticks to the script by not removing his trust from Betty. Instead he encourages her and congratulates her on doing things well.

In this scene while Betty has been entirely focused on the work at hand and being professional Mario was busy assessing the situation while Armando... is hard to read here. He is keeping himself composed rather than being emotionally driven or erratic or neurotic. In truth he is showing one of his best traits so far, composure. When he is sure of what he wants to happen Armando is really good at keep composure, feelings at bay, and controlling the situation. Something he later loses as he begins to get more lost and confused in his own feelings and understanding them.

Betty here is endearing, honestly I find Betty endearing at all times lol. She's super cute and such a good sport since her character is written to capture your heart, not by sympathy but by empathy. Again just like Armando how are we not supposed to be affected by such a sweet character? Constantly putting her feelings aside for Armando's, who hasn't done that? We empathize with her because at some point or another we've been her and ironically it's the exact same reason why we sympathize and empathize with Armando because at some point or another we've all been there where we let the worse get the best of us and we've learned to live with it and deal with it same as he.

As Betty starts to leave the office Armando calls her name, stands up in a slow but steady way showing us that he is the one in control in this situation. His tone is controlled but not enough where you don't hear that resent.

"Betty you didn't hadn't told me you've got a boyfriend"

Betty looks taken aback by this behavior of his. As she stares at him a bit shocked and rocks on her feet, seeming uncomfortable with this but also worried.

Armando proceeds to say "and that that boyfriend is Nicolas Mora, your friend from university. The one you've got in Terra Moda" Notice how now there is a waiver in his voice and he no longer is being as composed or in control of his emotions. As he for split seconds allows those emotions of jealousy and possessiveness to sweep through his tone of voice.

In this scene Armando isn't so much giving us body language as he is stiff, showing nervousness and discomfort himself, often we see this whenever Marcela is interrogating him but he is giving us tonality in voice.

Again the sequence as he names the list of what and who Nicolas is shows priority. First, Nicolas is Betty's boyfriend, that guy she's talked about who she went to university with, and she's got him working in Terra Moda. His priority: Betty has a boyfriend. He knows who said boyfriend is and he knows what he does.

Betty tells him that she doesn't have a boyfriend: "Ay ay no Doctor, eso no es cierto." Betty normally has a waiver her voice whenever she's nervous or scared so it's not unlike her to have it here, she smiles and chuckles nervously. In translation what she says is lost so by interpretation this is what she said "Hmm? No sir... um that's not true."

Armando's tone is now accusing her. He seems angered by Betty's "denial" as he tells her "It's not true? I heard it-" we then get a frame of Betty's reaction. She is truly concerned over this as we later find out at the end of the day that she was worried that it could cause Don Armando to build distrust towards her. Again we are shown that Betty is keeping it all professional whilst Armando isn't.

"I heard when Bertha told you, right in front of me. [Y'all] started gossiping, didn't notice I was there. You both forgot about me, no Betty?"* He is shaking as if agitated and he sports a cocky smile because he feels like he caught her in her own lie.

[*]This could be taken in a double sense. In his eyes Betty was so excited about hearing that her "eternal love" called her that she forgot he was in the room and in a figurative way, Betty forgot him.

Betty's understanding of his behavior is rational. He's upset that she withheld vital information from him after she told him she had nothing else to hide(when he interrogated her the previous night) and this is related to a professional work related situation.

Armando now sports similar traits to that of Marcela when she is looking for reasons to act out on her anger. Armando is agitated as stated before and while Betty goes to explain herself Armando grabs his glass of whisky, not taking his eyes off Betty and drinks(cantinero, otro whisky!(Now his behavior here is very interesting because as he grabs the glass to drink from it he takes in a deep breath. At first I interpreted this for anger but after seeing it a few times I realize it's panic. While at first he was composed and sure of what he was feeling which was anger, now he is faced with uncertainty from feelings he doesn't recognize and he doesn't know where this conversation is going to head or how he'll react or feel so he enters panic mode)). She tells him that it was something the cuartel came up with because she once mentioned Nicolas and since then they haven't gotten it out of their heads that he is her boyfriend "I don't have anything with him."

Then relief starts to wash over him as Betty's final words are reassuring him that she doesn't have a boyfriend. In this frame Armando no longer has a drink in hand and he doesn't seem as tense as before.

"Definite? We're sure of that?"

Betty chuckles and nods and his tone of voice returns to being soft spoken and calm, even hopeful as he tells her "Okay, okay it was only curiosity." (What kind of curiosity tho?;))

Betty leaves his office and has a slight smile and was on the brink of a daydream when Sofia interupts her from doing that.

I have this dumb theory where Aura Maria and Freddy are in some way a parallel of Betty and Armando except that Aura Maria takes on the role of Armando while Freddy takes on the role of Betty and if y'all want I'll write a post explaining this.

Take a break if you need it.

Skip a scene we've got Armando interacting with Freddy. Usually everyone pays the burnt of Armando's anger and in this scene he looks anything but angry. He actually humors Freddy which allows us to know that after that conversation with Betty, he has one less problem(you know the one that topped all the others). He then laughs at Freddy(I find it ironic that Freddy told him that what Jenny and him have is strictly professional at which Armando laughs and repeats the same thing. The reason I find it ironic is because we as an audience know that what J & F have is not strictly professional and the conversation Armando just had with Betty wasn't strictly profession. In other words, Fernando Gaitan has a good sense of humor) and tells him to show him his lil dancy dance and leaves to go to Mario's Office.

When he enters his office he informs him he spoke to Betty about that infamous boyfriend.

"What did she say?" Mario asks.

"Well no, that she doesn't have a boyfriend." his smiles and says happily. He the catches him up on the gossip.

While Armando is now showing an array of emotion and excitement Mario is poker face, fidgeting with his pen and studying Armando.

He tells him "You know what this means? That I'm a happy man!" he chuckles and looks around the room as if really taking in the news and letting the relief settle in. "What a relief, finally some good news today, ah" he says the final part as if he were an italian chef. This lets us know that Armando is truthfully relieved to find out that Betty, his Betty is single and that he is still her special man.

In the previous post I talked about how Armando went about listening his excuses to start drinking early that day and how he basically went going from his smallest problem to the biggest one as he says that the one that topped all of his other problems was Betty having a boyfriend.

See, all his other problems were a cause of stress and anger, emotions he is very familiar with so they don't disconcert him however, jealousy or fear of losing Betty, are new territory for him that alone freaked him out but the fact Betty had a boyfriend was enough to just push the boy just close enough to the edge he needed a drink so early in the morning because it was anguish.

Mario tells him he has never seen him so relieved and happy to find out a woman doesn't have a boyfriend to which we pan out to see Armando roll his eyes and slouch against the chair, annoyed at Mario's insinuation once again.

Mario reminds him of the last time he saw that same expression on him which was when he found out some woman was separated from her husband. Armando then tells him not to diminish the good news because it meant Betty hadn't ommited any information from him.

To really bring this post to the full potential of it being analytical let us break this down.

Why was it important for him that Betty not omit information from him? Especially relating to something so personal and intimate of Betty's life outside of the office? (Again the argument that this is only about Eco Moda and Terra Moda are disproven in the previous post).

[EDIT: Sometimes as I write I've got two ideas at the same time and forget to finish writing them. It wasn't only important for the reasons mentioned below but because he does in fact want to know more about Betty as he later tells Bertha the same thing].

Armando went through the five stages of grief.

Anger, denial, anger, denial, more denial, and then moving on.

He did not accept that Betty had a boyfriend therefore when she told him she didn't he fully believed her, didn't ask more questions.

For Armando Betty's character means a lot. I don't mean the individual personification of Betty as a fictional character in this novela I mean as in her inner self and what she represent. To him Betty represent stability, comfort, unconditionality, honesty, and most of all fidelity and loyalty and the last three qualities are what he is always naming. If she withheld something from him it would mean that Betty was no longer that. She no longer would be an object of reassurance and comfort but like everyone else she'd become an unpredictable and untrustworthy individual in his life. Some one more that he needed to keep at arm's length or pretend around.

Armando has gotten a taste of being around someone who doesn't judge him when he is himself and doesn't hold it over him when he makes mistakes based on his neurotic nature or anger issues. Instead he has been around someone who understand he's like that, someone who is patient and knows how to call him out on it and how to handle his erratic behavior so he has learned to let his guard down little by little and found a niche of comfort in his assistant but if she lied to him it would take all of that away. It would be betrayal in his eyes.

That's why it was so important to him that Betty didn't keep secret from him. Especially seeing as they were forming a friendship that was based on honesty and respect towards each other. This explains why that was important to him. It's important for him to have trust in her.

However we ain't kidding anyone because his reaction was possessive over Betty because Betty has given all of these things to Armando, who has never really received them without some fine print, and he doesn't want to share her with anyone else. This is possessiveness and it is not love or romantic. It is a toxic trait because not one person belongs to someone and Armando feels that Betty belongs to him. Be it romantically, platonically, or work related, a person is a human being and they do not belong as an object or property to anyone.

Armando is a very emotionally immature individual and this shows us that.

Mario then proceeds to be his classical self, which is to sow the seed of paranoia in his best friend as he starts to point out that her friends wouldn't be saying that if Betty hadn't given them a reason. His hands clasped in front of him show a position of power. Right now he is holding the cards and he is well aware of that.

Right as he see the reaction he wanted from Armando he leaves him to ferment so to speak in the paranoia he has left in him. Armando becomes nervous all over again and susceptible to it.

He is left with himself and he says "Y quien es el.." now if you're hispanic or latino you'll find the humor in how that scene ends as he starts to sing in a sorrowful tone a very romantic and a song that I'd say most listen to when dealing with a break up "y en que lugar se enamoro de ti?"

Which translate to "And what is he like? and in what place did he fall in love with you?"

I won't read too much into that as I'm sure it was written in for humor or added in for the humor effect as we've had some pretty heavy emotionally driven scenes in this episode but I do think it's an ironic placement of humor.

Now to bring the final scene that I will be discussing regarding Armando finding out about Betty's boyfriend we come full circle with Armando asking Bertha about it.

He acts charismatic, composed and professional to get Bertha to talk to him.

"The subject is the following: I've got a long time working with Betty and It's just until now that I find out she's got boyfriend. Do you know who he is?"

"Well like really know? No, because she's so reserved"

He then with a pierced mouth nods. Again those feelings are creeping back up. I get it. He's feeling paranoia, distrust, betrayed, hurt, offended, scared, jealous, possessive and angry but this proves what I mentioned about Armando having his guard up at all times because he doesn't show any of this to Bertha, at least not enough where she picks up but because we as an audience are given so much detail regarding his character, we can.

Quickly he asks her "And you don't know how long she's been dating him?" brings us full circle again. The same tone he had with Betty when he told her that he was in the same room as her when Bertha said that she had a boyfriend, minus the smirk and actual reaction of his, once again proves that Armando knows when to show his reaction and how to be in control and composed.

Bertha proceeds to tell him the "actual" story in which she tells him "dating dating? No, but he does have her eating from the palm of his hand because she's stupidly in love with him." and we hear Armando gasp and say "No." we then get a frame of his face which shows us... the opiset of happiness, joy, relief, tranquility, peace, serenity but with someone trying to be composed.

Bertha tells him that Mariana read her the cards and said that he was Betty's dream man and that he was going to change her life and she was going to change his life. I don't care for that but for the sake of this breakdown I'll mention it.

We know that Betty's dream man is Armando, not Nicolas. However everyone else thinks it's Nicolas. Armando's facial expression shows someone once again panicking.

He not only finds out that Betty has boyfriend, now it turns out she didn't just omit something from him but lied when he asked her and to top it off she so happens to be stupidly in love with him and on top of all of that he is Betty's dream man and to finish it off, he will change her life and she will change his life in the mildest of riches, meaning with Betty becoming the sole owner of Eco Moda and Terra Moda, making her rish rish $$$.

This is when it no longer is just about his mixed up feelings for Betty but now the entire livelihood of his family and everyone that works for Eco Moda.

Eco Moda is Armando's pride and joy. He does love that company which is why he started that scheme in the first place because he didn't want to lose it, let his father down, prove Daniel right, and throw away 30 plus year of his father's work and life time(Also as we're told because of his goals). The company means a great deal to him and in ways he's not aware of yet, so does Betty.

However someone is aware of this, not to the deep knowledge that Armando has regarding whatever he thinks he is feels towards Betty but they've got some sort of idea regarding this and they innact and come up with a plan to secure the company, the presidency, and his statues and reputation.

Step one: Tell Armando that he needs to make Betty fall in love with him to secure the company. Women in love will do anything for the one they love therefore if he beats Nicolas to the goal we secure the company. It worked with Paty(he's stupid so his logic doesn't work)

Step two: Convince Armando that he is the right candidate for the job. If that doesn't work, manipulate him with paranoia and make him fear Betty. If that doesn't work, tell him you were sure that Betty was in love with him before you found out about Nicolas.

Step three: Tell Armando I will be in charge of all the corny details because he will freak out and get way over his head and ruin the plan.

Step four: make fun of him.

Step five: Go on a trip and write a letter that explains the entire plan in detail and leave it on my desk without telling my secretary to not let anyone touch it or go near it except Armando so that she can go into my office, and I know how she likes to be nosy, and she can then think it's in the wrong office and give it to her assistant who takes care of all of his stuff, literally, and she finds it, reads it and does exactly what I was afraid of and made my best friend afraid of as well and that will then bring her downfall, his downfall, therefore the entire company's downfall.

Step six: never realize how stupid I am or take full accountability for it and apologize sincerely for all the wrong and harm I have caused.

Obviously I'm not saying Armando is innocent or that he didn't do anything wrong. He did. He allowed his best friend to manipulate him when he said he wouldn't listen to him again(the panama thing), he allowed his best friend to make fun of Betty and was a coward to admit his true feelings not only to himself but to his best friend. He was a willing(felt guilty for it but nonetheless willing) participant in the plan.

By now breaking down these past episodes and scenes allows us to understand where Armando was coming from so we can sympathize just a bit for him and his confusion and how he was so easily manipulated by Mario, however this doesn't mean he isn't guilty. At the start of it he too to some degree thought no one could love Betty, (yes we later find out that he did care for her as he tells Mario that he feels endearment for Betty and he looks relieved to find that out. I will be breaking down that scene when I get to it) because of her physicality (I already talked about this but when the time is right I will go into deep detail regarding this part of Armando's character).

It is eleven AM. I have been writing this post for the past seven hours and I am beat and tired. I hope this makes sense.

Once again, 'til next time.

HAHAHA OKAY I FORGOT TO ADD SOME COMMENTARY ON THE REST OF THIS SCENE.

[Edit:

Bertha proceeds to tease Armando about him liking gossip and being Nosey. He gets annoyed at her but in order to get the information he wants he stays composed and tells her that he just wants to know about Betty.

"It's not that[I like gossip], it's just that this is about someone who is really close to me everyday-who I work really close with- and truth be told I am a little curious about Betty's life. You know, one just imagine her a little ugly and with boyfriend...? You know? Why don't you tell me the whole thing?"

At first he is a being defensive while trying to justify the fact he is being nosey. His tone then changes to endearing as he tells her "truth be told I am a little curious about Betty's life." and his face goes along with the tone as he says "you know, one just imagines her a little ugly-" he catches himself and say "and with boyfriend...?"

Overall what we have learned here is that Armando is really good at dismissing his feelings on the spot, suppressing them, and running away from them(I too do that and it's a pain in the butt). He does this as a sport.

Bertha then tells him "The thing is that Betty doesn't like it much for you to know about her private life." and this again offends Armando as he straightens his face and stares at Bertha in shock and as Bertha says "How is it, Sir..." and he quickly sits down to listen to her. "that this morning when we left your office she pulled me aside and told me that she didn't want you to know about her intimate life?" he rubs his chin, eyes still on Bertha and whispers "Really?"

Armando knows that Bertha can't tell half a gossip so instead of asking her to keeping telling him, practically begging her to tell him the whole scoop he manipulates her by saying "If this is going to cause problems then don't tell me. Let's leave it as is, Bertha, thank you." his tone is somber to tug at her strings, how could she possibly leave this man curious over this juicy gossip? and how could she not tell the whole story? Especially because it's her boss?

Bertha chuckles and tells him that she, of course is going to tell him, that she is dying to tell him. Armando then tells her "Well then if this is between us two it doesn't leave the planet, go on, tell me how did it go?"

Armando starts to bit his nail as he listen to Bertha start from the beginning.

She tells him word for word what Mariana said about Betty's dream man. She's obviously describing Armando, but to everyone else that's Nicolas, so the impression or idea that Armando now has of Nicolas is that he isn't some loser or nerd or some nobody but he is an important man who is the type of man woman lust over. They will have an intense relationship that will be strong and that the man is fundamental for her life.

This describes a man that is both important and that will be for sure in Betty's life.

Now Bertha goes on to describe the man Betty told them about. He is desired by woman,tall, handsome, strong, isn't rich but has money, has a big car, and his name is Nicolas Mora. However Betty clearifies that she has nothing going on with him, that she just likes him and she feels a strong attraction to him but that nothing has happened between them.

Then Mariana tells her that something will happen because it will change both of their lives.

Take into account that though Betty's life in a personal aspect hasn't changed much in the professional aspect it has. She's got a respectable job, a boss who values her work ethic and her enough to hand over his company which means she's could be rich. She's abandon some of her morals to collaborate with her scheming boss and is doing things that aren't morally correct.

Armando's life has changed not only professionally but personally. For one he's begun to let his guard down and given more of himself to a woman he isn't in a relationship or knowingly attracted to, his relationship with Marcela is only getting worse and Betty is usually the center of their biggest fights, he has now built a friendship with said woman built on trust and respect, something he has never done with any other woman and of course professionally he has sunken his and his family's company into debt.

I'd say Armando's life is changing a lot and that's not even the peak of it. Betty's life is also changing a lot and they haven't even started dating.

Armando is aware of how Betty's life is changing on a work related level so he obviously believes everything Bertha is telling him because he knows things she doesn't know.

Impatiently and annoyed Armando tells Bertha to explain what she means by "it's going to change their lives." which again since he "knows" things Bertha doesn't, therefore Tweedledum has sowed the seed of paranoia and Tweedledee has given it the perfect terrain for it to flourish so Armando is now listening to Mario's voice that Betty could turn against them though the important thing to note here is that Armando isn't mistrusting of Betty instead he is really mistrusting of Nicolas, because again, who could really fall in love with "ugly" betty. Except that's a joke on it's own because the idiot was already having feelings for her.

They are interrupted by Guti Guti and this is where I will end this post.

Truthfully until next time. ]

[silvia7272]

Miraculess Ladybug Salt AU: You Always Liked To Play With Fire ~ The Meeting

I have no idea how long I want this to be, but I doubt it will be too long, so maaaaybe 15 chapters? But I’m super glad that this has gotten more attention than I thought it would have.

Might need to point out that I only said there weren’t any Miraculous here, but heroes still exist, but they all hide their identities (from the public because I think it’s stupid for random civilians to know your identity) if they chose to or they only tell families.

This fanfic and its ideas were all made before season 4 came out, so if something doesn’t add up please don’t worry. That information wasn’t available then, and unless it fits into my story or I like it, I won’t include it in my story. Also, that new Miraculous wiki can get lost, I’m not putting any of that new information in here if they couldn’t even put it in the show.

Word Count: 7661

Tags: @vixen-uchiha​, if you wish to be tagged all you must do is say. Also, if you change your name please tell me, I don’t want to leave you out since you’ve asked to be tagged. I’m very sorry if I’ve missed anyone.

Well, I hope you’ll enjoy it.

Summary:

(Fire doesn't exactly have anything to do with this story I just really liked the title)

Note: This book contains OOC scenes of Miraculous Ladybug as well as a ton of salt, so if you don't like that stuff you may scroll past and have a nice day.

In a world with no Miraculous, no Hawkmoth and no Ladybug, how does our little heroine do?

Well, it usually would be hanging out with her friends, as any other teenager would do...

But, of course, this wasn't normal.

This was reality. It was cold, hard, and definitely not welcome.

So, when this girl wishes to have some kind of adventure in her boring, mundane life...

How long does it take for her to regret it?

Trigger Warning (If you believe there is absolutely anything in my works that can be classed as triggering please tell me and I will include it after the summery. All off my works are made with a keep reading so you should be able to see if there's anything in the warning before hand.)

Mentions of guns, poison and stitching flesh.

***

Beep… Beep…

Alarms were annoying. Why had someone decided to invent a device that makes you feel guilty for sleeping in? Why not just be a gentle reminder in the form of a lullaby? Or a small caress of a hand brushing some hair, as you simply start to close your eyes, drifting of-

“Marinette you’ll be late for school again!”

She groaned.

So that was why.

Getting dressed she sighed knowing what the day would hold. Glares, being alone, eat, hopefully become nothing but invisible and make sure to go unnoticed before rushing back home.

For the past three years, this is what would happen to her. This same boring, frighteningly normal routine.

And she hated it.

Not just for being alone, or all of the sadness she felt grow each day to a meter she wasn’t sure what level she was on now but whatever. It wasn’t going down any time soon.

No, what she hated the most…

Was the boredom.

Yes, her creativity streak could not be higher, she had been going through her sketchbooks so much she had to work longer hours at her bakery to afford them all, but her love for fashion just wasn’t the same, she didn’t feel any joy producing her work anymore. There wasn’t anyone new to show it with.

She was just alone in her room, mountains of book piles covering every surface.

But she was bored in general. She wouldn’t be able to place the feeling, or even be able to describe what it was. But for whatever reason, she craved for adventure, I mean sure she was safe here, and she didn’t want to worry her Parents with this silly idea of hers. But she just wanted a tiny little taste of some venture.

So why couldn’t she?

“Did you hear?” Marinette heard the whispers, walking up to her classroom door she could hear what they were talking about, over the years she had become silent, become part of the crowd, it was so much easier to eavesdrop, although it was a bad habit of hers, she couldn’t help it.

For example, she heard about Adrien’s relationships.

Now don’t start getting worried, she was 100% over the boy. She would under no circumstances ever fall for someone like him, or even make such a god-like illusion of someone ever again.

But she heard how, the first day Lila came, and their kiss they shared. He really had meant to pull away.

Because he was starting to see Kagami.

But, his feelings became conflicted.

And he didn’t want to hurt Kagami, so he simply never told her.

But then he never told Lila to stop with all of her advances, and Alya had tried numerous times to set them up.

Again, Adrien never said for them to stop, instead went along with it. He never told them he was with Kagami, and Marinette couldn’t help but feel so sorry for the girl.

She learnt from hearing Adrien’s conversation he was her first friend, and she wanted to keep hold of that fact.

Just like her.

Except, the bluenette was able to escape that motion before she was sucked in too far.

She would’ve warned Kagami, don’t get her wrong. But Marinette wouldn’t lie. She was intimidated by the girl.

Every time she saw her, she would glare all the time. It just reminded her of everyone else, and she couldn’t go through with it.

Pathetic she thought bitterly.

But still. If she had confessed to Adrien, and then Lila came. Would he have told her about that kiss?

.

Well, er- Besides that, she had a knack for hearing other things too, for example, footsteps, she was able to tell who’s were who’s just by the sound. Some were light like Rose’s and Juleka’s. Some were heavy like Ivan’s and Mr Damocles. Some were sneaky like Chloé’s and Lila’s.

And she had to learn to avoid interactions with anyone she knew would make a fuss.

It became easy after a while.

Opening the door, she quickly scanned the class, they were all there, usual spots an all.

Around Lila’s desk.

Oh well.

It would be less likely they would notice her.

She was, fortunately, able to get to her seat without any interruptions.

“A hero is coming to Paris, to help all of the Parisians out. Isn’t that amazing?”

“Really, that’s so cool. I wonder what they’ll be like?”

“Oh, I sure hope he’s strong. Hey, do you think it’ll be Eostrix Or Sparrow?”

“And why exactly do you think it’ll be Eostrix? What about Medusa. Or-” Alya gasps, excitement seeping out of her.

“What if it’s Nebula?!”

“Nu-uh, it’s definitely Eostrix”

“No way Nebula all the way”

“Eostrix”

“Nebula”

“Eostrix!”

“Nebula!”

“EOSTRIX!”

“NEBULA!”

“BATMAN!!” The once quiet Rose belted out, before covering her hands in astonishment.

“Sorry I wanted to join in.” She gave a sheepish smile as Juleka pattered her head.

Marinette breathed a sigh of relief, they would always get loud but today must’ve been special.

She looked out the window. A superhero Ey? Coming to Paris? How exciting. She knew she would never get the chance to meet them in person, what with her not so chaotic schedule. But she would love nothing more than to thank them for all they had done, for even volunteering to come here and help.

If she was brave enough, she would love to bake something for them, as a token of appreciation for their work. Maybe even make an outfit inspired by them-

Wait- that wouldn’t be considered creepy, right?

She tried to work on that, with her attachment issues. But she was trying, with no friends at least, she wasn’t sure if it had worked. No one could see her progress without any other remarks.

“You shouldn’t work yourself up so much, besides there’s going to be an announcement in 2 hours, we’ll just see it at break.” Alix laid back in her seat, Marinette couldn’t tell if she had finally realised the truth but was just drowning it out or just grew bored.

But she hadn’t made any type of engagement with her.

Oh well, I guess she was done with hoping.

But it wouldn’t matter, Mlle Bustier came in clapping her hands to gain the classes attention.

“Now now, please return to your seats, I have a very special announcement to say” Please don’t let it be another pop quiz. It was bad enough when someone would glance her way in general. Not when her test score would be one of the highest.

“As you know, this small, lovely class has been so pleasant these past few years. Our own tight little nest, and I couldn’t be prouder of… All of you” Marinette saw the little glance she made, whatever she thought. It was all lies anyway.

“But, we will have to make another new addition to this class” A laugh was heard.

“Well, I for one hope they’ll be better than the last bunch… Except for you Adrikins” The others glared at her as Adrien looked away, not wanting to get involved.

If there was one thing Marinette could commend Chloé for, it was the fact she saw through Lila’s lies with ease. Having Sabrina by her side did make it easier, but she saw through none the less.

She didn’t care that everyone else believed her little tales, Chloé thought it was funny, and loved the idea of their reactions when they would inevitably freak out and cry.

She just had to be patient.

Plus, there was no way she would feel pity for Marinette. In this world, its use or be used. And like hell she’ll be used. She just had to see for herself.

“Chloé please, that’s no way to make a first impression. Ahem, excuse me, you may come in now!”

“Ok~,” A singsong voice said.

If Marinette had been paying attention, she would’ve noticed the newcomer walk in. She wore a long-sleeved unbuttoned cardigan with a t-shirt underneath and a knee-high length skirt. A scarf was tied around her neck, matching her attire and small petite shoes.

She would’ve noticed the pretty little bows in her hair. The pigtailed braids, all going down to her waist, showing off how long it still was even tied up. Little earrings so small worn, a detail many wouldn’t have noticed.

She would’ve noticed the little introduction she did to the whole class, and how it seems she brightened up the whole room. Or the smile she sent their way, not for one but for all. And how a blond boy blushed from it.

But more importantly, she would’ve noticed, or at least heard her name being called out multiple times.

“Marinette, please pay attention for once, I swear your behaviour has gotten worse” She wanted to shrink, now she made a fool out of herself in front of the new girl.

“I’m very sorry about that, that was very rude of her, I do hope you’ll forgive the situation, the only available seat is at the back” Great, now she will hate her.

“That’s alright, I love sitting at the back, that way, I can see everyone and know they’re ok” Hearts stopped, and smiles grew, she really was just a sweet little child.

The bluenette, however, was dreading it. Now there would be another to hate her. And she seemed so innocent. It was only a matter of time before she would be corrupted as well.

Oh, the horror, she really didn’t deserve it, but Lila would have her way, she always di-

“You’re Marinette, right?” She jumped, forgetting she had just been in her own little world again, staring off into space. She really needed to stop that.

“Err y-yeah, and you are?” She cursed herself for not paying attention, now she may just think she was an ignorant stupid-

“My name is Rosaniline Keyne-Hill, but everyone calls me Rosann, it’s a pleasure to meet you Mari” She giggled as Marinette stared back.

Mari? No one had called her that before. But she liked it.

“Yeah, same”

And it felt like something else.

Maybe… Hope?

…

She shouldn’t be so optimistic.

***

Trying to eat in peace was a nightmare. There weren’t many places where she could go to without being in trouble. The library prohibited any foods due to not wanting any books to be damaged, you weren’t allowed to eat in a classroom without a teacher present, and considering all of the teachers chose to eat in the staff room she wouldn’t be able to sneak into any room. The art club, again didn’t want to damage any works, not after Chloé “accidentally” spilt her drink all over Nathaniel’s sketchbook four years ago. He refused to go to school for a week. And the roof was out of the question, too unsafe and a risk if anything were to happen.

But Marinette, since it’s lunch, couldn’t you go eat at home? Why yes, she could, at least two times a week she would just go back and stay at home to eat, but she felt as if she couldn’t always retreat home just for convenience, besides, Mlle Bustier would sometimes tell her to eat in the cafeteria with the others instead of hiding herself away. If she tried going to her Parents when told to stay, she’d be given warnings that soon turned to detentions.

Even if at times she wished to just sneak away, she couldn’t, she didn’t want her Parents to be called in and get wind of any other situations.

Marinette sighed as she played with her food, boredom crept on her face before she tuned into that hero announcement appearing on Face To Face.

Despite everyone trying to shove it down the school’s throat, she was ever so slightly curious about it. She may not have been able to voice her opinions to anyone in particular but she just wants to see who this mystery hero was.

Her pink earbuds at the ready and plugged in, she waited until Nadja Chamack’s report would come in, eerily, the whole cafeteria was quiet, the suspense was enough to put anyone silent.

Then, the logo came on, the sound resonated throughout the room since it was on the TV but Marinette stuck to her phone, she didn’t want anyone catching her watching it.

“Don’t be bemused, it’s just the news. Now a new rumour has been circulating throughout Paris about a new superhero appearing to protect the civilians. I’m sure you’re all dying to know just how true it is. Well, I can assure you that only the best reporter in Paris would only speak of the truth, considering I have the key to answer all your questions.” Lights appeared behind her, all moving in different directions before centring on a doorway in the centre of the stage.

“I’m confident you’re very excited to find out who our mysterious hero is, so without further ado, let’s see who it is.” People began to hold their breaths, the excitement of who this bigshot would be, Nebula, Eostrix, or someone even bigger, they didn’t know, but you could hear a pin drop in that cafeteria with how silent it was.

From behind the curtain, there were ruffles, smoke emerged to give off a more dramatic flair as the crowds became excited.

.

.

*A turquoise and light emerald outfit came into view. Baggy clothing on her arms and legs appeared along with white high boots. Her main outfit seemed to reside a sweetheart neckline dress with a mini skirt, although Marinette noticed it gave the girl some mobility to move around instead of being restricting. She also noticed the slight cold colours centring around her skirt, since she always had a keen eye on different types of design patterns. Light blue overlayers obscured most of the skirts view with golden rims on the bottom.

She had a light blue neck jewel, although she couldn’t see much off it, she’d have to admit. Her mask was a gradient of turquoise to match her dress, her hair was tied up in two twin buns, two red hairpins also there she noticed, but the rest left down, Marinette had to wonder how long it would’ve been all down.

There were a lot of things Marinette noticed, however, one thing everyone could agree on…

Was that they had no idea who she was.

“Salutations everyone, why it’s a pleasure to be here.” Marinette had to admit, she looked… Kinda young to be a superhero. And maybe, just maybe, not what she’d envisioned when she’d heard about a hero coming to Paris. Why, she was making an assumption, and she should really know better than to do that since, y’know, but you couldn’t blame her right?

“WHAT? WHO THE HELL IS THAT?” She heard over the other side of the dining room. Of course, it was Alya, she never could control her voice volume. But she couldn’t tell if the ombre girl was upset over it not being Nebula or supposedly getting hyped up for a hero none of them had ever heard off.

Looking back at the screen, she could tell the news reporters seemed a bit taken back as well, Nadja never was good at concealing her emotions, even on air, maybe they had been promised someone else instead?

“O-Oh, I see. Well, I-’ Her recovery was the same, Nadja always fretted she had to rely on the people up in management to give her a line if she couldn’t think off one herself, she wasn’t very good at improv either.

The heroine smiled before walking down to sit beside Nadja.

“I understand the scepticism, my appearance deters most, but that is just a ploy, however, I’m here to make a promise to all off Paris. My name is Soliane Rin and I’m here to risk my life for everyone in Paris, with or without my mask on. All I ask is to be given a chance.” She bowed to the camera, to all off Paris, and Marinette was able to see her smile, her truthful words as the whole dining room stayed silent at her speech.

Marinette seemed to feel…

Hope?

“Ah- no it wasn’t that, it’s just we were given information you were appointed by both Eostrix and Nebula? How? I mean, how did you meet them, or more importantly how did you get to have this opportunity?” She smiled as Nadja had time to recover from her obvious disappointment.

“Oh that, well I had worked with them on a few cases in New York. I had trained for a few years to be just like that until I was finally able to convince them to train me fully. And well I guess they believed I was ready to protect this jurisdiction by myself over time.” Nadja nodded along, seemingly more at ease as the time passed by, more questions being asked and answered before everyone had noticed how much time had passed.

A beep emitted from the girl’s necklace, in turn making her stand up and bowing or at least curtsying once more.

“I’m sorry for the early interruption, but I must be going now, I have some business to attend too” She threw a peace sign as a puff of smoke surrounded her. When it had passed so had she disappeared. As the crew tried to cover from most of their unscripted events. Nadja headed to commercials.

The long-awaited announcement was over, what would the audience’s reactions be like?

“Really? We get a new hero like her? I’ve never even heard of Soliane Rin. Ugh, we might as well have gotten someone like Doorman” Kim flung his arms up into the air before sitting back into his chair.

Not good apparently.

“I know right, and to think I was excited for this” Alya dramatically fell back into her seat. And she was so looking forward to this news as well.

Marinette would admit to feeling more guilt, she may have… Possibly thought the same, but even still, we’re judging a book by its cover, surely, they all should’ve waited until maybe after she had proved herself.

Wait- making her have to prove herself was too judgemental still, she didn’t mean for it to sound that bad, she just- she was just wrestling with the thoughts in her mind.

Not noticing the annoyed looks from the class, the tiniest blush from a blond, or the tiny smirk residing from a brunette.

With a plan in action, she set to work ravelling a new story that was sure to captivate her ‘friends’. With a tremble of the lip and bowing her head, she waited until at least one person would notice her sudden change of expression.

Luckily, her plan went just as she thought.

“Lila? Are you ok, what’s wrong?” Rose, a sweet and naïve girl mind you, immediately took the bait.

And with that, the others finally took notice of her, a new record she thought, after so long she was used to this routine.

She knew how to work them.

“Oh- it’s nothing important, I’m sure you wouldn’t want to spoil the mood.”

Hook

“Hey c’mon girl, you can tell us. What’s on your mind?” Alya pats her shoulder to comfort the smaller girl.

Line

“Are you sure?” Lila asked again timidly, the other girl nodded, in fact, everyone did, and gave encouraging words to her, they couldn’t see the smirk inside her mind.

And sinker.

She fiddled with a piece off her skirt, a habit she formed when noticing they were always a lot more concerned when she fidgeted, it was a clever trick really. Being able to get anyone wrapped around her finger was a power she loved.

“Well, I just think it’s a bit sad really.”

“What was?” Someone asked, at times she didn’t really care who it was that responded, she just knew what the next response would be, she could always make them say what she wanted without them ever knowing…

Oh, she loved this life.

“It was meant to be a surprise.” She rambled on, waiting for someone to stop her, they had to.

“Lila, what are you talking about?” See, she knew how to play this game a thousand times over.

“Well… I wasn’t really meant to tell anyone. But since all of you are my friends, and I know I could trust you with this, so I guess it's fine to say.”

Everyone around the table leaned in, intrigued by what she had to say. Lila took a deep breath in, bracing herself for the aftereffect of her words she knew would come.

“I knew it would happen, that no one would like her, but I had hoped and prayed that you all would, I guess I should’ve asked for someone higher up” It took a few seconds for those words to tick in the aspiring journalists head, but when they were finally processed, she nearly erupted. It was better to make them think of what she said instead of just outright saying it, decent off her to help their brains.

“Wait- you- you were the one to suggest a hero to come to Paris!? OMG girl that is fantastic” Lila gave a small smile as everyone then shouted the usual praise at her, she nodded along before turning her head down.

“But- you all weren’t happy” They all felt guilty at that, maybe that was why Lila had been quiet the entire time while the news was on. She must’ve been checking for their expressions and yet they hurt her feelings instead.

“Sorry- we must’ve just presumed it was gonna be Eostrix or Nebula, that morning probably messed with our responses” Alya laughed as she draped an arm around Lila.

But the ‘lie’ wouldn’t end there.

“I see, I just thought she would’ve wanted more recognition while being here” Out of nowhere she started crying more, everyone tried to comfort her, but it was no use.

“She’s just such a nice person, and so kind. When I last met her, she was still in training and I promised I would promote her as much as I could” She sniffed as Rose handed her a tissue which she greedily took a hold of.

Before they could exclaim their surprise she immediately jumped right back into her story.

“I knew I should’ve tried harder; I should’ve gotten Nebula or Eostrix. I’m sorry I ruined everyone’s day. I- I should’ve left my big mouth shut. I’m sorry guys” Their guilt immediately intensified.

Lila had done all of that for them, and they had quite easily tossed it aside without realising, how could they? And to one-off their best friends? Despicable, absolutely despicable.

Wait, why did that sound vaguely familiar?

Oh well, Lila was more important.

“Lila no” Alya cooed in a soft voice, feeling mostly responsible, hyping everyone else up and being one of the first ones to dismiss the new hero entirely. She tries to comfort Lila was the least she could do.

“It’s not your fault Lila” Her plan came together.

“Of course, not. We shouldn’t have judged her so quickly” Just like all the others.

“We’re sorry, so sorry Lila.” And she knew how to do it so efficiently.

“We shouldn’t have judged so quickly” Lila’s smirk in her mind grew in size, they were so wrapped around her finger.

As Alya was happily explaining that she would be in fact honoured to create a blog about this new hero- she had forgotten her name, and would quite happily like to interview Lila as well to be able to learn anything else about the hero, a lone figure grew upset.

Lila had just created another lie, she was used to that, but for it to be about the new hero, couldn’t Lila tell just how dangerous that could be? I mean sure, it would be great to actually be able to meet a hero, let alone be friends with one. But to publicly announce that? Was she crazy? Did she want a massive target on her back?

She could only hope no one would buy into that blog, as mean as it was, but she didn’t want them to get physically hurt.

She could only hope that the new hero wouldn’t care about fake news or blatant lies.

She truly could only hope.

.

As shoes tapped against the floor along the dining room, a new figure turned her head.

She had been walking around her new school, looking around for entrances, exits and just in general any hidden secrets. She had previously asked for a school plan from a teacher, but had been informed that her students would be more than happy to help her instead, and she needn’t need some piece of paper. But that didn’t suit her, so when she wasn’t looking, she may have just acquired one anyway. She was quiet so she wouldn’t have been caught.

Now she was walking through the dining hall, she had wanted to take in the cafeteria, just in case there were any rooms she had missed, until she heard footsteps approaching her.

“Hey Rosaniline, come join us, we haven’t seen you all lunch.” She knew she’d have to concede, having analysed each person in her class, she knew, Alya, would not take no as an answer.

So, she flashed her innocent smile and nodded along, it may prove useful to study them further.

Her arm was grabbed before they walked over to a table full of people, so different from the other tables.

“So, newbie where were you? You totally missed the special hero announcement.” Alix asked her, the others looked over to see her answer, if Rosaniline hadn’t been used to having a crowd around her she believed she would’ve been nervous as hell.

“I had taken the liberty off looking around the school, I’m afraid I can get pretty lost in large places, I only wished to remember the layout beforehand.” She placed her hands together with a bright smile appearing. It was half a lie; she couldn’t exactly state her true reason, now could she?

The ombre haired girl pulled a large smile onto her face. She was just like Adrien, new, polite and a literal ball of sunshine, she thought before sneakily looking over at the blond-haired person who hadn’t said much, most probably due to his shy nature due to his upbringing.

She latched onto Adrien’s arm before practically flinging him towards Rosaniline.

She literally took falling for someone to a whole new level.

“Well looks like the two of you would get along swimmingly” Her new ship was bound to sail, she could see it now, their immediate attraction for each other, the dates and interactions they’ll have before proclaiming their love in the rain, a sentimental scene in which she’ll be gladly recording while hiding behind a tree.

I mean who wouldn’t just map out her new friends love life in a matter of minutes of knowing each other?

But… It may just become a crash course instead. They rubbed their heads simultaneously due to bumping into each other. However, one was ever so slightly overjoyed with being in such close proximity to her while the other would think that prank wasn’t funny in the least.

Before any of the duo could express their annoyance/apologise and maybe a get together sometime, someone of course just had to interrupt the moment.

“Oh, Rosaniline we need to apologise to you” Rosann had expected the apology to come from Alya but it appeared that girl didn’t know that she had done something wrong.

“We’re so sorry that you have to sit next to her” That caught Rosann’s attention, what did they mean by that? They must’ve noticed her confused face as the explained further.

“Oh, you poor thing, you really don’t know do you?” Well, no. That is what she wanted to say, she was new, of course she wouldn’t know, hell she hadn’t even been able to see the whole layout as she had planned to. She was sure there was a hidden basement somewhere, she just needed to locate it.

“That girl, the one you have to sit next to in class. The one with dark blue hair?” They all tried to provide as many details as they could without trying to make it too obvious, but Rosann was able to make out who exactly they were talking about.

She took a sneaky glance towards the person the group had started to talk about. She heard a few words of bullying, mean, lies and stalker before zoning it out, she needed to concentrate.

The girl, in a pink jacket and a grey skirt. Sitting alone on a table that seemed to be mocking her by how big it was. All of the tables were big, possibly to do with teachers wanting students to sit with their friends.

But she wasn’t with anyone, she just absentmindedly played with her food as nothing interesting happened.

Rosann stared, that girl, she hadn’t seen her smile once, or even display any kind of positive emotion. She was just lonely; couldn’t they see that?

That girl needed to be saved!

***

Midnight.

Or at least close to that time she thought.

She didn’t know, she had spent many a night out on her balcony just sketching in her book. One would think it would’ve been too cold but the bluenette didn’t mind, she had been used to it, the wind wasn’t particularly chilly out here, even if it was late September. This was part of her routine anyway. Staying up late was just something she was used to, her sleeping schedule was the worse. But she produced so many fantastic ideas when she was awake at night, it was a sacrifice she was willing to take.

With her earbuds plugged in, she was jolted out of her streak when she heard a different notification pop up, pulling out her phone she looked at what could’ve possibly caused it.

[BREAKING NEWS: New Hero Prevents Bank Robbery On First Day.]

Marinette smiled at that. Her first achievement, in Paris of course, she knew she had done a lot before, she had checked a few articles before, although she did have to rely on google translate on a few instances, but this hadn’t been the only thing she had prevented. There had been house fires to museum robberies to even outright terrorist attacks, and yet she was able to stop them all, she did have some help but from what Marinette could make out the other heroes got there after taking most of the civilians out of the buildings, and from what she could tell, she could’ve easily handled everything herself.

She could see Soliane didn’t need to prove herself to others if she was just given a chance for everyone to see what she could do.

To not be judged based on baseless accusations tossed her way. For people to look through and see the truth!

.

.

She didn’t know who that had been aimed at, but she knew she just wanted to get back to her sketching.

But… She couldn’t.

Not now.

Not when she heard a noise behind where she had been sitting!

She quickly dropped her belongings as she jumped up from her chair.

-

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but she knew she had heard something, it wasn’t just her hearing she knows that.

She knew something had happened; something was there. When she stayed put, trying to concentrate more- she heard slight breathing, slow and- hurting!?

She didn’t know who it was, she didn’t know their intentions or they alliance, but, if something was hurt, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she didn’t check it out.

So, she quietly approached the wall, having to stand on the bricks on the side of the wall since she wasn’t tall enough before pushing herself up.

!!!

‘That’s-!’

Even in the night she could see a prominent colour.

Turquoise!

“It- no it can’t be! Soliane Rin!” She whispered more to herself, but even still she couldn’t comprehend how this could have happened.

Noises of pain interrupt her train of thought. She- she was hurt!

Her mind had taken action, and immediately propelled her forward, she couldn’t leave someone out here in the middle of the night hurting, even if she was a hero, she was still human!

She ran towards her, instantly trying to ask if she was ok? Where was she hurt and if she can respond?

But nothing came, no answer, nada. She had to check if she was alright.

She came closer, forgetting about maybe not accidentally startling the young hero.

Her hand was caught midway to the hero, she gasped, her reflexes were still there. Her head was nonetheless limp and her left hand resting on her abdomen.

“W- who ar-” She grunted in pain again. Marinette shot forward to grab her before she could fall back.

“Hey, m-my name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, you’re on my roof right now. Please let me help you” Through her strength, she opened one eye to look at her. And through her eyes, she could only see one thing.

Sincerity.

“Right- leg… anti” Her breathing grew slower, as if she were falling unconscious, Marinette had no idea if it would’ve been eternal.

But Marinette was able to determine what she had meant. Looking her over, she looked at her leg, her baggy clothes were slightly torn but that didn’t matter now, slipping her hand inside, she hoped Soliane wouldn’t mind her hand being cold, she tried searching for it, for her antidote.

Her fingertips tried reaching out until she felt smooth glass. Wrapping her fingers around and pulling it out she pulled it up for further inspection.

The writing around the glass wasn’t in French unlucky for her, however, there were pictures, she had to quickly conclude this would’ve been used for situations just like this.

The picture appeared to show that it should be drunken not spread on the wound, so she quickly unscrewed the cap. Looking back at the hero she could tell she had indeed turned paler, she wasn’t faring so well, she knew she needed to do it quick.

Tilting her head back so she could pour it down her throat, she could only pray that she wasn’t too late.

.

.

One minute.

.

.

Two minutes!

Why wasn’t anything happening!?

Marinette had to take a deep breath, maybe it would need some time to take an effect.

In the meantime, maybe she could look her over to see if there were any other injuries. And then maybe go downstairs to collect some supplies. Living as a baker meant she knew her way around burns, scars and scratches, so they were always prepared with a medical box in the kitchen.

Looking at her over appeared to be the right choice in action. Her lower abdomen had been hit, Marinette reasoned with herself that must have been why she had yet taken her handoff.

But as Marinette covered her own mouth with her hand, she was a gasped at how much blood there was.

Now what? She couldn’t tell her Parents, she loved them, she really did, but she knew how loud her Dad would get whenever he got happy, angry, or frightened, she knew it wouldn’t be a smart choice, especially with how jumpy the hero was. Not like she couldn’t blame her.

Then that would mean calling an ambulance might be out of the equation as well, plus the Soliane Rin may not want the publicity of her going to the hospital after only one day of patrolling. She knew if she had gotten cold feet or even hurt like this on her first day heroing they’d be a high chance of her giving up.

Well… She was a seamstress.

She had been doing it for a very long time, so she knew the ins and outs of sewing.

But still… It could be extremely risky, and she’d need to get consent first… But if she didn’t wake up… And she knew how open wounds could be, how dangerous it could be if they didn’t get any treatment, and how much trouble she’d be in if she accidentally killed the hero when trying to help her.

.

Well…

She had dreamed of some adventure in her life…

And she got her wish.

***

Stitch… Stitch…

Flick-

“Ahh!-”

“So-sorry”

Her prayers off Soliane Rin waking up were answered, after she had collected a few blankets, medical supplies, and a needle & thread, she had come back up.

Only to find Soliane on her balcony, if it wasn’t for her shock, she knew she would’ve screamed out zombie.

How she had the strength to get there she would never know, but she had to guess, heroes have all sorts of endurance.

She quickly sped to catch her. She did reprehend her of course; it was in her caring nature, so she just had to.

But… The way she weakly smiled at her, she couldn’t help feeling guilty, she probably was in so much pain and here she was berating her for- for what exactly.

This was why they had all left her. She was too quick to jump the gun, to jump to conclusions, too fast to even see from anyone else’s perspective.

Which is why she was a perfect target.

She lowered her onto her bed, careful not to hurt her anymore. Setting her down so she would’ve been comfortable, lots of pillows to help as well, she was glad she brought so many in her childhood. Or whenever her Nonna would come, she’d always get a new toy from her travels.

And that was when she set to work, conversing with her about what she may have to do, and as hesitant as Soliane was, she also knew there was no choice.

“Fine, I’ll trust you Marinette” Those words felt like a gift, in any other situation she would have been jumping for joy, getting acknowledged by a hero? That was amazing.

But- she really couldn’t celebrate, the look in Soliane Rin’s eyes, the were… Fearful. She knew she wasn’t trusted, yet. But she would prove it.

Snip, snip.

The room was silent, no words had been muttered or mentioned, Marinette was concentrating on her stitching, just hoping she wouldn’t hurt her anymore. She must have regretted her decision now, of course, she had, anyone with the right of mind would’ve. No wait- she didn’t mean it like that! She just meant-

“It’s not your fault. I- shouldn’t have let my guard down” It became silent again, and this time Marinette had a lot more to think about. There had been one thing that was stuck on her mind and couldn’t leave her mind.

“H-How did it happen?” She saw Soliane grab a nearby pillow even tighter than she had.

She knew she should’ve kept her mouth shut! It wasn’t her place to ask anyway.

Before she could utter any type of apology, she was stopped when she heard her start to speak.

“It was right after one-off my patrol routes. I was surveying the city, just in case, I needed to report anything else. I guess- due to this being my first time alone, as well as having previously prevented some other crimes, I would have to say I wasn’t in the same mindset.” Marinette stayed quiet so she could continue without pressure, she knew from personal experience how frustrating it could be to start talking and get interrupted by someone else, it was always a pet peeve of hers, making her not wanting to finish her story out of pettiness.

“So… When I was too busy with moving around on my wire. I was shot!” Marinette jolted away, she knew something drastic had to have happened, and she had tried to brace herself. But she couldn’t, it sounded so surreal.

“I was careless, it was such a stupid mistake, no novice would’ve been hurt like me” Marinette jumped again, she was so serious, and so… Angry with herself. But, she had just saved a bank from robbers, of course, she could’ve been tired, she was human after all.

“And due to my shock, I wasn’t able to pinpoint who it had been. A poisoned bullet had just barely scared me, and I was still affected by it… Sir would be so disappointed in me.”

The last stitch had been completed. She was done, now she just had to bandage it. She noticed Soliane seemed physically more relaxed.

“I should be going now, I’ve troubled you too much” She was trying to get up, but even the bluenette knew she would still be in pain for a while, just until she would get herself checked out, probably as her civilian self.

“No, you’re still hurt. If you move too early the stitches might come undone” She laid a gentle hand on her, just enough to draw attention to herself.

“But I must, I need to report back, besides, don’t you need to go to sleep?” Yeah but- the words paused in her throat, why could she say anything?

“You’ve already helped me so much, surely you’d prefer me to leave, it would be unbefitting for a hero to be seen so helpless for so long?” She saw it, her face, it was just like her a complete replica, always so helpful, to never think about yourself even when it could be life or death.

…Ok maybe that last part was a bit extreme.

“Hey, don’t try to suggest that, I could never think that! You still need help, just because you’re a hero doesn’t mean you can’t rely on anyone else.”

…Maybe it was her stubborn side, or even her Mother’s. But she couldn’t even think of the hero going out in that condition.

Grabbing her hand, she was adamant about letting Soliane Rin stay. So, she just told her.

Told her that she can’t just go out in that condition.

Told her that she needed to get better, because if she was still hurt, how could she save other people. And how she also needs to look after herself.

Told her that… She shouldn’t have so many expectations of her, because it won’t do her any good, mentality wise… And if the expectations become broken, she’d be unrightfully angry at herself.

Told her that- oh god she was arguing with a hero in her bedroom and she wasn’t saying anything.

She wasn’t saying anything! She’s just standing there looking at her. Never had Marinette wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out?

“I-I’m sorry, I should have never shouted like that, you were just doing your job and here I come saying you need to stop- wait not to stop I meant maybe slow down, although if you wanted to carry on then that’s fine by me. What am I saying you don’t need my permission; you don’t need anyone's! Do you-?” Her hands had been waving in front of her frantically. She just couldn’t imagine all of this would’ve been happening to her, her emotions were spreading out of control. She really needed to compose herself.

-

Wait, why did she grab her hand?

“I -ahem- it's fine, I’m incredibly humbled by your generosity. You have a big heart, not many have such kindness like you” She brought her hand closer to her mouth, and the blue-haired girls’ heart was pounding more and more.

“I shall stay” She pressed the hand to her mouth, a small feeling off lips against her skin sent shivers down her back while she held her gaze.

“So long as mi Belle stays with me” It took her a moment to compose herself. It took another to realise to she was talking about her… It to yet another to compose herself from that.

“Sou yure- I mean you show- ah, I’m mean. Yes.” Marinette felt as if she couldn’t say no, and yet, she didn’t feel uncomfortable, she felt accommodated. She believed if she had said no, she wouldn’t have felt pressured by the hero to stay.

And she smiled at that.

They both had.

So sincere.

***

The morning had come.

And not a moment too soon.

Light poured through her drawn curtains, and her first reaction was to grab the closest thing to plummet it towards the sun.

Not like that would’ve done anything mind you. It would’ve just been to make her point.

Rising up and stretching her arms, she headed down her steps, it had been a weekend, after all, she was allowed a lie in occasionally.

Although, she felt oddly a lot more refreshed than she had remembered, what had change-

Soliane Rin!?

Her head zoomed around the room, where- where was she?

No one was in the room besides her.

So- was it just a dream? Did she really see just imagine it all?

But she couldn’t have, wouldn’t that have just been too cruel, even for her?

Did the gods really hate her as well?

Wait-

That piece of paper wasn’t there before?

Stepping over to her desk, she gently picks it up, almost afraid she’d rip it up.

As her eyes traced over the first words, her mind relaxed.

‘Dear mi Belle, apologise for “dropping in unannounced” and to cause you such trouble. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine thanks to you, I’ll promise to be more careful next time, sincerely your local hero, Soliane Rin…’

Her heart fluttered in gratitude; those events were real. She really did meet her.

As her hands curled around the letter, she smiled. A true sincere smile.

Because after so long, she felt…

Hope.

***

*I absolutely suck at describing clothes, which is why I much prefer to draw instead, I literally have no idea what some clothes types are called so I always end up having to ask my Mum and even then, she doesn’t know half the time so I may end up not describing much clothing in the future so sorry.

Well, I hope you liked it, I do believe these chapters are gonna end up getting longer and longer. I know a few of them are but hopefully, you won’t mind that. It will just make my progress slow but hey I was always slow so it shouldn’t matter too much right? Anyway, well Marinette has met the hero and classmate, she’s definitely different to my other version. But I do hope you like both versions.

Oh, and I may need help with Jess/Jace. I know that she’s Native American, but I’m unsure if there’s any type of detail I must include for them, for example, I’m aware that they don’t cut their hair for symbolic reasons? I’m not even wholeheartedly sure about that. So, I would like to ask if there’s any information that I’m forgetting/missing and I would love to be informed, aka if I need to include a tribe, any type of clothing that would be appropriate to wear or activities they do. Sorry if it seems stupid, I just want to be informed and try my best to make an accurate representation. You can ask me questions, but I will apologise if I don’t understand them in advance. (Just so you know, I’m changing everyone’s design but I’m definitely changing her earrings, I just keep having images of someone pulling them out ugh, hence why I’ll never draw large earrings that people could grab)

Also, if you’re confused about anything feel free to ask any questions.

Cya next time.

Note: Please tell me if I should add anything else to the card, there will be one of these cards for all 15 chapters, however, because I have uni work all updates will be slower because I really need to focus on the uni stuff, then I might be able to upload quicker. They also may change in the future because I can never stop adding stuff.

[sunflowerandco]

After the Fact: Act III

Rating: T just ‘cause it is.

Act I

Act II

-3 years after Act II-

          Courtney arose to the sound of her persistent alarm. The morning sun poured all of it's essence into the city that morning. She stretched her legs under the covers, her thighs still sore from the night before. The alarm sound gave Duncan enough consciousness to drape an arm around her followed by his groggy words, leaving her trapped.

          "Good morning, Princess." He pulled her in closer and she felt her heart jump out of it's own slumber, causing her to smile instinctively.

          "Duncan... I need to start getting ready for class." She pulled on his arm enough to wake him, freeing her from his hold.

          She slowly trudged into the bathroom to brush her teeth, and soon she heard his own alarm go off for work. He appeared in the bathroom mirror and plopped the toothpaste filled brush in his mouth.

          Their conversations, while mostly unintelligible, were an occurrence whenever Courtney stood over at this place instead of her dorm room. They spoke over the toothbrushes in their mouth.

          "Hungry?"

          "Mmhm"

          "Eggs?"

          "Sounds good to me."

          Their brushes were put back in the holders one after the other. Courtney made her way back into his bedroom, looking through his drawers, and Duncan sat on the foot of the bed.

          "Okay. Perfect. Now if I could just find a shirt so I don't have to walk around here naked."

          Duncan truly couldn't help what came out of his mouth after seeing his girlfriend in front of him in this state. "I wouldn't mind that at all."

          She turned back to see him gazing at her in amazement, and her cheeks began to glow in scarlet red. "It never turns off for you, does it?" She turned back before Duncan responded.

          "As long as you're around, no."

          Courtney scoffed at his comment. She found a shirt of his, and underneath it was a plain, black book with Duncan's name on it. She took it out along with the shirt and draped the shirt it over her body. She held it up when she questioned him. "What's this?" Duncan studied it before answering. "Oh... it's my sketchbook."

          "Your sketchbook? I haven't seen you draw in such a long time. Can I see?"

          "Yeah, go ahead. I, uh, just started seeing designs around town, on busses. I just got inspired to make some of my own."

          She flipped through a collection of completed sketches all equipped with detail and color. She had seen his notebook doodles, but they didn't compare to the amount of effort and skill these drawings took. She looked at him in awe for hiding such a gift. "Duncan, these are amazing. You have true talent."

          Duncan said nothing as Courtney flipped through each page.

          "Have you thought of becoming a tattoo artist? You love the shop right down the street, the artists even know you by name."

          "I always have, but I'm better off sticking to the repair shop." "Why not stick to something that I know can pay me?"

          She looked up at him, her hands firmly placed on her hips. "Duncan-"

          He took the book out of her hands and placed it on top of the drawer. "I'm gonna go start on breakfast."

          Courtney watched him walk out of the bedroom until one footstep grew fainter than the last. She couldn't help herself as she inched closer to the sketchbook. After eyeing her messenger bag at the foot of Duncan's bed, Courtney swiftly grabbed the sketchbook and wedged it in between her laptop and textbook before heading to the kitchen.

          "So, what are you in the mood for?" Duncan asked from the refrigerator door. "Omelet, scrambled?"

          "I think we can do omelets today. But, I have to go to the library as soon we're done. I barely had time to study last night thanks to you."

          Duncan closed the door and faced Courtney, ready to fire back. "Oh, I'm sorry. I could've sworn it was you begging for round two?"

          "Shut up!"

          "I will once you admit it!"

          Courtney grabbed the carton from him and started cracking eggs into a bowl. "No, you won't."

          "Very true." He smiled as he got started on greasing the pan. "What are you doing after class?"

          Courtney shuffled through a list of things she could tell him that were far from the truth. "I...have a...Debate Guild meeting after my classes."

          "Okay. As long as you come back here tonight."

          Courtney questioned Duncan as she got closer to him. "For what?"

          "I thought we could just have a night in?"

          "Just like last night?" Courtney asked, smirk on full display.

          "I've got a few ideas." He snaked an arm around her waist, and the gap between them diminished when he pulled her into a slow, drawn out kiss.

          Afterwards, she opened her eyes and Courtney swore she saw the sun shine brighter through the windows of his apartment.

                                                         ***

          Courtney took a deep breath and eyed the sketchbook in her bag. She took a minute to button up her blazer and before walking into the tattoo parlor.

          You've got three years of pre-law under your belt, Courtney.

          She opened the door to see this open space of creatives in a room adorned with huge windows. She was thrust into an array of stations dedicated to each artist, some were occupied by clients and some empty. Her heels stood out as each step made its rounds on the wooden floors.

          She walked up to the front desk and approached a rather young guy. He didn't look old enough to work at the shop.

          "Good Afternoon. My name is Courtney Álvarez, and I'd like to speak with the owner of this establishment."

          Without saying a word, he got up and entered a room behind him. She turned away from the desk to take in the view from the outside, before hearing a voice from behind the desk.

          "Hey? We in trouble or something?" Courtney's attention diverted when her eyes met a petite woman covered in tattoos.

          "No, nothing like that." Courtney handed her a business card with her name and number on it. "I assume you're Anya Tremblay."

          "I've heard this name somewhere..." She looked up from the card and at Courtney. "Oh, you're Duncan's girl. He talks about you a lot. You are exactly like he described."

          Courtney decided to take that as a compliment before continuing her introduction.

          "Right now I'm not his girlfriend. I'm his... advocate." Courtney smiled before reaching a hand out to shake Anya's.

          Anya shook her hand with skepticism. "Advocate?"

          "Yes. I'm very passionate about cultivating his interests to render them beneficial to his life." She reached for the sketchbook in her bag with a few color coded sticky notes attached to certain pages.

          "Now, you may know Duncan as a regular to your shop. However, he's also your potential new artist." She held the book out on her arms facing Anya, opening to the first page she highlighted.

          "See here.” There pictured was a fully rendered sketch of a compass drawn in the usual Traditional fashion. “Duncan’s well versed in Traditional. I've witnessed him drawing in class since we were in junior high.”

          Anya looked pleasantly surprised as Courtney flipped through various pages. Some of the same style Courtney highlighted at the beginning of her presentation of Duncan’s work. Other drawings included skulls drawn in the style of realism. Courtney closed the book to begin her closing arguments.

          “To conclude, Duncan has immense potential. He’s passionate, young, and strong-willed. You’d be missing out on this city’s next best artist if you turn him away.” Courtney hoped Anya had questions, which was always a good sign.

          Anya’s stoic stance remained, but her voice seemed communicative. “Has he worked on skin before?”

          “No. That’s actually where you come in. Duncan’s a pretty fast learner. And, with your extensive knowledge and history in American Traditional he’ll do just fine.” Anya looked inquisitive after hearing Courtney's counterargument.

          “How do you know I do Traditional?”

          “Your Instagram profile is public, you’ve done some of Duncan’s sleeve, and I’m pre-law." She placed a hand on her chest, gesturing to herself proudly. "I do my research.”

          Anya's voice returned to a tone with incredulity. “How did you guys even manage to find each other?”

          “We’re more than just what’s on the surface. Any more questions?”

          "One more," Anya answered. "Why didn't Duncan apply for the apprenticeship himself‽"

          "Duncan's apprehensive at the thought of taking a chance on his dream job, but that doesn't mean he isn't capable-"

          “Alright, alright. Tell him to give us a call. Tomorrow. 10AM.” Anya made her way back into her office.

          Courtney triumphantly strutted her way out of the shop when her phone buzzed in her pocket. Duncan's name flashed on the screen. She answered, sounding more enthusiastic than she meant to. "Duncan! Hey!"

         Duncan caught on to her tone. "Hey, babe. You sound like you had a pretty good meeting."

         She quickly remembered what she told him that morning, and followed along. "Oh, yeah! I... won the practice rounds! So, anyway, what's up?" 

         "Think you could pick up the takeout I ordered from around the corner on your way back?"

         She looked to her right to see the restaurant right down the street. "I can do that. See you soon."

         His tone indicated he was smiling. "Okay. I love you."

         "I love you, too."

                                                            ***

         Courtney called for her boyfriend as she closed the apartment door behind her. She was still undoubtedly giddy, and she couldn't wait to deliver the news about his interview. "I'm heeeere! They gave us an extra egg roll because-" She stopped in her tracks to see Duncan quietly standing in front of what used to be an empty corner of his apartment; now adorned with an ambient glow of warm fairy lights. She slowly placed the takeout on the table, gradually making her way toward him. "What is all this?"

         "This is for you." Duncan stepped out of the way and Courtney noticed a white desk decked with two bookshelves of the same height. Some of the books she'd leave at his place were on the shelves. Her voice grew soft as she struggled to find words. "Duncan..."

         "I thought you'd want a good place to study here for when... you move in with me?"

         She pulled him into a hug, burying her face in his chest with Duncan placing a hand through her hair. 

         "Duncan, I'd love to live with you, but I don't have job, I can't pay rent-"

         "It's not about rent, Princess. I can afford this place on my own. All you need to do is study your ass off." He lifted her head up by holding her face, possibly in the gentlest way he'd ever done. His fingers ran through her hair once more. "Move in with me?"

         Courtney took Duncan's arms to interlock her fingers with his, their hands turned down to the floor. She tilted her head up toward him and leaned in, their eyes closing slowly before Courtney lightly pressed her lips onto his, and slowly elongating with every draw of her lips. Duncan returned with warm and vehement intent while his hands broke free of their joining. His arms instinctively pulled her in by her waist; close enough to have their bodies one against the other. Courtney lost her breath at the pull, and her hands found their way around his neck. She felt a warm aura gleam to her core before slowing the pace enough to stop. She repeated herself one more, but with assurance in her words.

         "I'd love to with you, Duncan."

         Duncan felt lighter at her change of heart given his reassurance. He couldn't wait for days with her to be his new normal. He reveled in the idea of coming home to her sitting at this very desk, buried in her work. Or welcoming him into open arms on the couch. And dinners with her after such a long day. He quickly remembered the takeout on the table. He figured now's the time to start these memories. "Wanna eat some takeout?" Courtney nodded, just realizing how hungry she was. His hands dropped from her waist and she made her way back to their little round dining table just for the two of them, and he realized how formal she was dressed.

         "Do you always dress this fancy for meetings?" Courtney froze before she remembered how excited she was to tell him about his chance at his dream job. "Actually, no. I wasn't at a Debate Guild meeting today." Duncan walked closer to the table, still confused. She retrieved her bag to show him she had his sketchbook. She couldn't hide the elation in her voice even if she tried. "I went to Anya's shop, showed her your work, and she wants you to be her apprentice."

         Duncan truly couldn't believe her words. "What?"

         Courtney began to repeat. "I went to-"

         "No, no I heard you. I just- How?" When realization hit him, it grew harder to hide his grin.

         "I didn't do anything! It was your work that got you in. It wasn't hard to make a great case with strong evidence."

         "Courtney, you didn't have to do all that for me-"

         "Well, too bad you feel that way," Courtney countered as she wrapped her arms around his torso. "Because you have a girlfriend who loves and sees the best in you, and a phone call scheduled for 10AM tomorrow."

         Duncan looked down into her eyes with incredulity, and his arms made their way to her waist as well. He couldn't take moments like these and his girlfriend for granted. "You're unbelievable." 

         She smiled, still proud of the both of them. "I like to keep you surprised in more ways than one."

         "How can I ever repay you, Princess?"

         She teased him, recalling his words this morning. "I've got a few ideas." She giggled lightly.

         They parted, sitting in their respective seats at their table, in their commitment to making more memories together.

A/N: HI!!!! I hope you liked it if you made it this far! Let me know what you think. See you in act iv!

[prettywordsyouleft]

To Be Continued - Part 1

Summary: As an author, you had created Brian Kang for your current trilogy series to represent the ultimate man that everyone would love, along with Charli Evers - your female protagonist. What you hadn’t expected was for him to find a way out of the story and begin shaping up your world instead

Pairing: Brian Kang x female writer (ft. Park Sungjin)

Genre: writer au / romance / fantasy

Warnings: fictional characters coming to life / a bit of angst here and there / Sungjin as a cop (or does that only affect me?) >_>

A/N: this story idea was created from receiving two prompts for Brian in the YouxIdol drabble game I was completing this year. In this part, you can find prompt #186, “You don’t have to answer right away. I’d wait an eternity for you.”

Word count: 2252

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | Epilogue

Brian cupped her cheek tenderly with one hand, smoothing out any worried lines across her forehead with the other. He smiled encouragingly, tears threatening to spill from his eyes with his heightened emotions. “You don’t have to answer right away.”

“I don’t?” Charli breathed back, knowing that her response to his question was already formed. Yet it wasn’t the right time for any love confessions right now. Despite this, her answer rushed to the back of her throat, where she tried to swallow it back down repeatedly.

Brian already knew and nodded softly to let her know of this. “I’d wait an eternity for you.”

“Isn’t that a bit too cringe-worthy?” you wondered, pausing to read the words upon the screen with a frown. It wasn’t out of character for Brian Kang and Charli Evers. And it certainly wasn’t the first cheesy line you’d thrown into Captivated either. Still, you mulled over the scene a little longer, deciding whether or not it should be removed.

“What would Charli do in response?” you asked out loud to no one in particular, a flurry of action from your fingers taking place immediately. You followed the scene until completion before taking a break, switching out of the word document and over to your Discord server.

Smiling as you scrolled through the new comments about the upcoming sequel you were in the later stages of writing for Brian and Charli, you let out a rattle of a cough from your chest, groaning at your illness dampening your mood.

“I’m trying to finish this final chapter tonight,” you spoke out into the universe, casting your eyes to the heavens for effect. “I’ve battled through this cold for a week now. It won’t take me down just yet!”

Reaching forward for more cold and flu medicine, you swallowed the capsules down with a painful gulp of water and then felt your forehead. It was hotter than before, though you waved it off as you answered a couple of messages and returned to the final part of the story.

Captivated was the second story in your new trilogy series since your last series Destined had become an overnight sensation. When you sat down to pen the soulmate idea into something more than thoughts in your head, you hadn’t expected the tale to touch so many people over the world. Nor had you believed you would follow it up with To Love You, Forever, And Always either.

You originally felt that Destined was the reason why Brian and Charli’s first story Encounter was easily shared around. The protagonists had their own charms though and you could tell the fan base for this series was different from the last. They were just as eager, however, to find out when the pair would shake free from the star-crossed lovers’ trope and finally give in to the evident love they had for one another.

“Part three it’ll be,” you surmised proudly and somewhat exhaustedly after typing The End onto the electronic manuscript. Leaning back in your chair, you finally allowed yourself to succumb to the illness plaguing you. In a moment of disillusion, your mind conjured up Brian standing before you with concern etched in his eyes. You let the novel scene play out in your head, wishing he was actually here to help you out of your writing office, down to your bedroom and tuck you into bed.

Swinging gently from side to side in your desk chair, you hummed with delight. Brian Kang was your biggest self-indulgence character. You had created Park Jinyoung in Destined to infuriate your main protagonist, but Brian was the ultimate fictional guy. He was playful and kind, caring and thoughtful. He knew when Charli needed him to stand up in her weak moments, and he fought for what he felt was right even when all odds were against him. He also allowed Charli to see his vulnerability and his honesty, gaining him many fans around the world. And if all that wasn’t enough, Brian Kang was incredibly attractive.

You had really created the holy grail of a dream man.

Laughing to yourself in your sick-induced state, you smiled lazily. “Dream men are just that, Y/N. Brian Kang would never exist in this world.”

You nodded to yourself, agreeing with the proclamation, feeling more single in the moment as you did so. It was funny really, you were a successful author of Young Adult romance novels and yet you hadn’t experienced the touch of a man, let alone any ardent confessions since your university days.

“Right, it’s time for bed,” you decided before your mood plummeted further into despair. However, your limbs felt too heavy to move and so you simply closed your eyes once more, hoping a little nap would help you regain some energy to head off to bed later on.

When you opened your eyes next, you found yourself in your darkened bedroom, smiling gently at bringing yourself to bed sometime during the night that you couldn’t remember. Sitting up slowly, you allowed your gaze to adjust to the dim morning light filtering through the small gap in the curtain, before reaching onto your nightstand for your phone.

You blinked. Instead of finding the device, you saw a kitchen bowl and face cloth resting over the edge of it.

Did you bring that with you in the middle of the night? Surely if you had been attempting to bring down your own fever, the face cloth would have been strewn somewhere in among your bedding after falling asleep with it, not neatly placed back upon the side of the bowl. Looking beyond that, you found a bottle of water with a third of the liquid missing. You did vaguely remember sipping on some water overnight, and that eased your mind from your initial confusion.

Shaking your head, and swinging your legs over the side of your bed, you placed your feet in your slippers before padding back into the office in search of your phone. Maybe you had help overnight after all, and you wanted to check if your mother had come over at your request. She had done that one year when you caught a nasty virus and couldn’t cope on your own anymore. Motherly love was definitely needed, and now that you had completed your obligations with Captivated and sent it off to your editor Lily, you would have no restrictions on who entered your creative space.

“Huh,” you said when you saw your laptop screen still open. You had a habit of closing the screen every night after turning the device off and approached it now with some confusion, trying to recollect what you last did the night before. Nothing rose to the surface immediately and you reached for your phone, blindly hitting speed dial on your mother’s number. And when her greeting rang down the receiver, you were more than perplexed.

“Hey, did you come by last night?”

“No, why?” she answered and then gasped. “Y/N, you sound awful! Did you keep working even though you were sick?!”

“You didn’t come here?” you repeated, fingertips reaching for the sticky note upon the computer screen. “Maybe it was Lily.”

“Lily is out of the country isn’t she?” your Mum reminded and you blinked several times before focusing enough to read the note you held.

 You shouldn’t have worked so hard to complete it! Your health is important too. How will I cope if you get any worse? Make sure you rest up well and drink a lot of fluids. I need my best writer in tip top shape to see where my world continues.

I made you breakfast. It’s not much, but make sure you eat before you sit down at this desk, hm?

- B.

 Dropping the note, along with letting your mouth fall ajar momentarily, you stuttered out a hasty farewell to your mum before hanging up the phone and looking to the doorway. Cautiously, you walked through your house to the kitchen where you stopped in your tracks at seeing a tea towel covering something on the bench. Gingerly peeling it back when you finally approached it, you gasped when you found several dishes underneath, along with instructions on how to heat it up.

For a split second, your mind conjured Brian up again, imagining him in your kitchen preparing all this. It would totally be just like him to make sure Charli was well fed to regain her energy from any illness.

But, you weren’t Charli Evers.

In fact, you hadn’t even based her off your personality at all, rather, a close online friend of yours who you admired a lot. So, whilst Brian would definitely go to all this trouble for Charli, you sure were clutching at straws thinking of yourself in the same situation.

Who came into your home then?

Distractedly, you heated the porridge and brewed up the tea the mystery person had prepared as well. You carried the tray of food over to your dining table when it was done and sat down before taking your first mouthful.

And then you mulled over who could possibly step into your house that had the initial B.

Maybe it wasn’t a B, you concluded when you realised no one had access to your house with that letter, even as a surname. Climbing back to your feet, you rushed to your office where you had discarded the first note and held it up to inspect the handwriting.

“It could be an R,” you mentioned out loud, then shook your head immediately. Even if the handwriting was looser than most that you knew of, it couldn’t be anything other than a B.

After examining it for a few minutes, you sat down with a huff. You’d never seen the handwriting before.

You didn’t know whether or not to be alarmed.

Had there been an intruder overnight?

Jumping back up, you persevered through the dizziness that plagued you from moving so fast, heading down the hallway to the front door. The chain was still latched and there was no sign of forced entry. Again, making your way to the back door, everything was in order.

As was every possession you owned – minus the kitchen where the food had been prepared. But even then, the dishes that had been used were rinsed and stacked by the sink.

You jumped when you heard a sudden mewl at your feet and clutched at your heart, before stooping down to pick up your cat Binks. The black cat nuzzled into you affectionately before meowing again. “I guess you want to be fed, huh?”

Walking around the counter, you stopped when you found his bowl with some food remaining. You knew Binks wouldn’t leave food overnight. Glancing at the cat, you frowned. “Who did this, Binks?”

The feline merely yawned and settled down to nap in your arms. It certainly brought the saying, cat’s got your tongue, to mind and you rolled your eyes at the infuriating situation.

Sitting down on your couch, you stared at the wall ahead of you as you tried to find an answer to all the evidence. Stroking the purring animal in your arms, you nodded determinedly.

“The only answer is that I did it in a sleep-induced state,” you announced and Binks opened his eyes to look up at you before rolling around to start licking at his back leg. You sighed. “Right, Binks?”

You were certain your cat thought you were insane. However, it was all you could find to be the answer.

“I got up and I took myself to the kitchen and prepared the ice water to cool down the fever. And went to bed. Then maybe I got up again, which is when I placed the cloth on the bowl and prepared the food. I washed my dishes, including the ones I had piling up from being too busy with work and-”

Binks leapt from your lap then, sauntering down the hallway from your side. Getting up to follow him, you ended up back in your home office, where he pounced up onto your desk, standing on the keys to your laptop. “Hey! Get off!”

Swatting the cat away from the device, you noticed that it hadn’t been turned off overnight. That was not like you at all. Logging into your account, you sat down in your desk chair and shifted back suddenly when you found a new document open.

 I bet you’re in disbelief about now, right? I guess I would be too. It wasn’t you who looked after you all night long, and did your dishes. Wow, you get behind in things when you’re focused on writing.

Don’t worry. I didn’t look around - much.

Your fever went down over a couple of hours whilst I moved back and forth helping you out. It’s the least I can do after you’ve spent so much time with me. Well, we’ve yet to officially meet.

One day.

- B (your biggest fan)

PS. I fed Binks. He really does have quite the personality.

 “Okay!” you sounded in an octave higher, laughing a little to yourself at the same time. “Someone was definitely here. Who is B and how does this person know so much personal information?!”

You were too preoccupied to realise the document to Captivated was still open behind the other one.

And instead of saying The End as it once had, it had been deleted and replaced with To Be Continued.

_________________

Part 2

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[aceofpandas]

What-if for Season 4

So at the end of season 3’s episode “Ladybug” we see that Adrien "asking” Lila to get Marinette back in school and what not. Words are spoken and wow just look at how they’re spoken:

That line right there! Okay so I watched this episode in English and in [Latin American] Spanish and wow the way that line is spoken. Both voice actors really conveyed how Adrien would channel his anger. It’s not an emotion we really got to see in Adrien before but in both languages the barely contained anger is something I feel is in line with what we know about Adrien who controls and is conscious of his emotions. It got me thinking about how passive aggressive this boy really is and man oh man how I wish that it get’s worked into season 4. Passive aggressive Adrien Agreste vs. resident liar/manipulator Lila Rossi. Yaaaas sign me up.

Hopefully, this side of him is explored next season and we can finally give Adrien some rivals who can help us explore his character a little more. This ending suggests that Lila is completely in Adrien’s danger radar and he’ll be in Protect Marinette Mode (similar to his Protect Ladybug Mode). In fact, the scene pictured above aligns with his self-sacrificial tendencies that he has as Chat Noir. Lots of people have mentioned that agreeing to the photoshoot is him selling his soul,  but he also establishes that he won’t ever have a genuine friendship with Lila. Bring on the war!

I personally think that Adrien, who we know isn’t too confrontational, will take a subtle approach. And how can he do that? Well, he could channel his inner actor where he can certainly play the part of “friend” while simultaneously working to discredit Lila. 

Like you can not tell me that Adrien, who’s enrolled in a bunch of activities, was not enrolled in acting classes at some point in his homeschooled life. His mom was an actress, so it’s not like his parents would be against the idea of acting lessons. He was even the VA for his own superhero persona in canon’s LB+CN movie lmaoooo. Yes, he’s a model and very much loved by the people of Paris so perhaps being chosen for the role isn’t too surprising, but that also doesn’t mean he has no talent or training for it. Let’s be real, modeling could be the compromise to his parents wanting their son to follow in their footsteps. Modeling is the fashion from his dad and the art of perfecting his facial expressions from his mom.

And like even if acting lessons were never a thing, his mom was around in his life. We know basically nothing about the woman, so really we can speculate that she showed Adrien a thing or two about acting. Let’s say it was through her that Adrien learned to be expressive, to be not expressive, and to be anywhere in between. His mom could have taught him to roll with what life has to offer through ad libs and improv. Adrien we’ve seen to have a dramatic flair as both Adrien and Chat Noir, and he honestly controls his temper waaaay better than we give him credit. Sure he makes mistakes, but really he’s human and he does learn from them (now if only the writing could keep character development for its characters but yeeaaaah).

Here’s a scenario where Adrien can start his stop Lila campaign:

Adrien and Lila are interviewed about the recent shoot and you know questions roll around about how was it working with together, they’re classmates right, are the two dating, yada yada

Adrien answering and not even trying to let Lila get the first word in because the boy is on high alert and knows this girl will try to spin it in her favor

“Oh, it was surprising my father even thought of letting one of my classmates model with me. In fact, I didn’t even know Lila was interested in modeling. Still, it was interesting to work with someone new to the field.”

Which on the surface seems like an ordinary, polite response; appropriate of Adrien but it’s also everything Adrien needs to corner Lila. 

In all of three sentences Adrien says he played no part in making the photoshoot happen, effectively shuts down the possibility of dating Lila, and establishes to the public that Lila is nothing more than a classmate, one he doesn’t even know well.

Lila is annoyed but she’s not giving up because she’s under the impression that Adrien is far too agreeable and spineless therefore she writes him off as Not a Threat

Hahahaha jokes, Adrien plays on people underestimating him

“Well, I didn’t want you to think that I wanted to make it seem like I was using you because we’re friends and friends don’t do that.”

Or something along those lines I dunno

“That’s the great thing about our class everyone is so nice that we can all be friends. Lots of us are so creative and I love getting to know everyone. Nathaniel, Lila’s desk mate, is a great artist; sketching, painting, he’s your guy. He’s currently working on a superhero comic with Marc from the other class and I can’t wait for what else they come up with for the sequel. Ivan, who sits in front of Nathaniel, he’s a rockin’ drummer, and Rose, she’s another one of our classmates, killer voice and awesome lyrics. Her best friend, Juleka plays bass and I’ve actually modeled with her before. Nothing official, but since I know Juleka wants to be a model I honestly thought she was going to be the one I was modeling with for this shoot. Sure it wasn’t a huge shoot, but Juleka did such a great job. And the clothes we modeled were made by our everyday Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Marinette, she’s also our class rep by the way, is such a brilliant designer! Did you know that she actually won one of my father’s contests? Her hat was adored by Audrey Bourgeois AND she was offered the chance to move to New York. And you know…”

Basically, Adrien ends up spending the rest of the interview talking about how much he knows about his friends and “gee it’s such a shame I don’t really know much about you Lila.”

Read: you aren’t special, I have more friends, and I actually pay attention to them.

Bonus point: Alec is the one who interviews them and he picks up on Lila becoming more and more frustrated with Adrien. 

Pretty in character for him to poke the bear *cough* Stormy Weather *cough* so for him to let Adrien take the reins of the interview for the sake of drama isn’t that much of a stretch.

Alec: What about Lila? 

Adrien: I don’t know, I really don’t want to get anything wrong so she can answer

The next day, the interview is the only thing anyone can talk about 

Adrien’s classmates gushing about how sweet Adrien is because he literally showed them that he really cares about them. 

Adrien remembering all this information about all of them and hyping everyone up on TV!!

Friends know each other’s dreams and likes and dislikes and Adrien isn’t known to have lots of free time, but him making the effort to remember all that about each person is flattering to the class

Let Adrien show how much he appreciates and admires his friends pleeeeeeease

Lila can be in the background plotting how to paint Adrien in a bad light 

But uhhh the class is going full Protect This Precious Boy at this point so your plan has to be fool-proof Lila

Bonus point: the class is now more sus of Lila after the whole Marinette-got-expelled-and-then-unexpelled (which is still fresh in their minds). 

No one get’s an expulsion reversed unless they’re innocent 

And dude Lila was in the middle of that whole mess. 

Whatever Lila did shows she has the power to get any of them expelled. 

If the kids aren’t at least wary of Lila in season 4, then the writers really be tripping because too many red flags around Lila for people to just wave them off.

In other news, Marinette starts to trend after enough of Adrien’s fans connect the dots that she’s the same girl who they chased around that time she and Adrien went to the movies

If the majority of Parisians weren’t convinced they were dating back then, oh boy they at least ship it by this point hahahaha

[jebazzled]

troubleshooting: common quandaries and thots to overcome

It's no surprise that people whose major hobby involves writing, the internet, and fandom are often people who carry a lot of anxiety and tension around with them. For many of us, writing is something we do to escape, relax, unwind, and flex creative muscles we might not get to use at work or school. I get it.

For many of us, however, it also seems like forum rp is a stressor, a cause of great anxiety and insecurity. We've all seen or known people who go through a major rp-related crisis.

Sometimes, these crises are truly major - catastrophic falling-outs and permanently damaging rumor mills and etc etc. But a lot of the time? Well. It's not that it's "in your head," because obviously what you are feeling is very valid. But I think sometimes the way we think of internet spaces fuels dysfunctional thinking.

This isn't quite a tutorial; it's more in the vein of my tough love re: writer's block. I'm going to talk through some common scenarios, anxieties, and other issues I see in the rp community, and offer my (fully unsolicited) thoughts and advice. As always, your mileage may vary, but I'm trying!

Topics covered, because this one is a LONGBOI:

Insecurity & thread reactions

Insecurity & completionism/ Being Liked

Jealousy (especially ship-related)

The server is not therapy.

So here's the thing about the internet: for better or worse, it's for everyone.

On the far end of the spectrum, this means that the internet is a great incubator for toxic garbage. See: right-wing radicals, etc. But for most of us, this means that there is room on the internet for weird little me and my weird little hobby. You can find a community to talk about virtually any interest. You, for example, found the rp community.

So here's the thing about the internet: for better or worse, it's for everyone. This means that while you can find a community to talk about virtually any interest, you are never going to find a community that is completely without flaws.

There will always be people who annoy you, rub you the wrong way, or who you think are mean-spirited and negative. There will always be someone you don't get along with. There will always be people who disagree with you.

I have been in servers where members come to me time and time again to complain about other members, as though I am going to boot someone for wanting to talk about x just because they, personally, are sick of hearing about x. I am not going to tell someone to change their personality because someone else, personally, finds it annoying.

Offline, you wouldn't tell your manager at Starbucks to fire Susie because you don't like talking to her. You would simply not talk to her outside of a professional context. You would simply not take your break at the same time as her. You would simply not make small talk with her when the store is quiet and would instead, like, read the liner notes on whatever CD is at the register. (Does Starbucks still sell CDs?)

There will always be people in your community who you do not like and whose logic does not make sense to you. If they are not doing anything genuinely abusive, they have as much right to be in your community as you do. There is, in fact, likely someone in your community who finds you somewhat annoying. C'est la vie.

A community is not an environment custom-curated to your exact specifications. It is a community. You are not entitled to it being perfect. You are entitled to a space free from harassment and bigotry. If the space is free from harassment and bigotry and you cannot enjoy the space because someone else in it is existing harmlessly in a way that you dislike or find irritating, you have the option to leave the community. Discord server links are not a binding contract!

This is all to say: I think a lot of us expect far more of our online communities than is fair. Remember that every single person in your server is an individual human being with an interior life as rich as your own, and a list of neuroses possibly as extensive. None of them, yourself included, are perfect.

Oh, speaking of that list of neuroses! Let's tackle it, babe.

Your neuroses are not anyone else's problem.

It is on you to work through and overcome your anxieties and insecurities.

It is kind of other people to accommodate your growth, or to modify their behavior so as not to trigger your anxieties and insecurities. They are by no means required to do so.

Note: they do need to respect your triggers, if you have them and list them.

So here we go: troubleshooting frequent freak-outs. Buckle up!!!

Insecurity & thread reactions (or lack thereof)

Some people experience a lot of anxiety and insecurity around how their writing partners react to their threads. This might surface in the form of feeling unappreciated/disliked if the thread partner doesn't drop an emoji react on the link in your server's tag channel, or in feeling like no one likes your writing because they aren't swooning over it in #affirmations/ #thread-shoutouts/ #quotables/ etc.

You are serving as both texters in this meme.

So... you don't actually know what's going on with your thread partner at any given moment, you know? Personally, here are some possible scenarios with me as your thread partner:

You tag me and I put a passage from your post in #thread-shoutouts: I am at my desk, on my computer, not engaged in active DM conversation with anyone, and your post either made me cackle or it made me emo

You tag me and I DM you to gush about it: there's a lot happening in the server right now/ I don't want to derail a public conversation

You tag me and I react with an emoji: I am at date night with my girlfriend and she is in the bathroom. I have had time to read your post. I probably haven't put it in my tracker and will try and remember later, when I find it in one of 100 tabs open on Safari on my phone.

You tag me and I don't react at all: I am swamped with work and read your post in between emails. Instead of taking a second to react I immediately jumped into my tracker to log your reply, and now I am back to emails.

You'll notice none of these rationales are: "I don't react at all because I dislike you as a human." "I actively chose to quote Susie in #thread-shoutouts and not you because I want to hurt you." "I don't DM you about our thread because I hate our thread."

It doesn't have to be that deep! Stop hurting yourself. Let yourself assume the kindest option. After all, don't you want people to assume the best of you, too?

If your thread partners know you value emoji reacts or thread shoutouts, it is kind of them to do them. But it isn't inherently unkind for them not to, either. You're better off trying to kick that need for public validation.

Overview for addressing thread reaction insecurity:

If your server has a thread shoutout/quotables/etc channel, mute it. Don't look at it. Stop giving yourself something to fixate on.

When you are worried that someone hates a thread because they aren't giving emoji reacts, instead of building a narrative in your head that may or may not be true - communicate! "What beats do you want us to make sure we hit in this thread?" is a good introductory question to see if a thread is doing something for either or both of you, and gives your partner a chance to say something if they do want it to go in a different direction and would be more excited.

If someone is continuing to write with you, regardless of whether they post an emoji, it is probably because they enjoy writing with you!

Be deliberate about your thread premises! In my experience, threads done "just because" without a specific purpose (e.g. building chemistry between ship partners, introducing a subplot about a cursed hairbrush, kidnapping a house elf) are the first to lose steam and lose interest. It's entirely possible that someone likes you, likes writing with you, and simply doesn't prioritize this thread above their others because there's nothing meaningful to prioritize!

Keep your eyes on your own paper and stop reading so much into what other people do or don't do. It's probably not that deep!

Insecurity & completionism/ Being Liked

You would not be the first person to exacerbate their own problems because of a sense of duty to the spirit of completionism. Here's the thing, friend:

You do not need to write with every member.

You do not need to plot with every character.

You do not need to be in every subplot.

You do not need to have a character in every member group.

People fall into this trap thinking that if they can be everything to everyone, it will make them popular/important/beloved/a truly included member of the site.

But quantity is not the same as quality. You might have a thread with every character onsite but if half those threads are under a "they're on the same bus" premise, then yeah, people aren't going to want to keep up with that thread, and it's going to contribute to your thread reaction anxiety!

Write characters you are excited about. But more importantly: write plots you are excited about. Write threads you are excited about. You can be friends with people in your server without writing with them! You are better off writing a smaller number of really well-plotted, juicy plots that everyone involved feels heavily invested in than in writing a lot of watery threads for the sake of writing with every single person. It's hard to believe, but many people would rather NOT have a thread and wait until there's a juicy reason to than write a thread that doesn't have any development relevance simply for the sake of it.

If you're finding that it's hard to find juicy or plot-driven reasons to thread with many people, that might be a hint to write different types of characters. While yes, people exist who are very self-contained and isolated, the purpose of rp isn't to be a direct mirror of real life. It's to have fun while writing with other people. If your character is not fun to write with other people, they are probably not a good fit for an rp setting.

RP is not a popularity contest. This is not high school. No one is voting for prom queen. Be kind and be open to ideas and collaboration and people will like you. People will enjoy writing with you! People might even go out of their way to write with you. And they will be writing things that matter to both of you. That's winning, dude.

You might be tempted to pinpoint a "popular group" in the server and fix your sights on becoming one of them. This is also a failing proposition: often the "popular group" you might first identify is incorrect, and you are mistaking "exclusivity" for "importance." Sometimes sites have a small, tight-knit group with intricate inter-group plots and a very visibly closed-off dynamic. Since that dynamic mirrors the popular girls you were raised watching in teen movies, I can understand why you would assume that these people are the most important people to befriend on a site. They're not. They're cliquey and exclusive, and trying to get them to make room for you when they have intentionally and performatively set themselves aside from many other members is like... lmao, dude, it's not going to work.

Not only that, but the fact that these people are hard to pin down? It's not a selling point! The most beloved members on any site are not the ones who make you beg for a scrap of their attention. The most beloved members are the people who are friendly and kind. THAT is who you want to Get In with.

Overview for addressing completionism tendencies and "what if I'm Left Out" woes:

This is not a popularity contest, and you are a grown up. Focus on having fun and enjoying writing. That is not something you can do if your first priority is Getting In with the people you think are a site's "Popular Crowd."

You do not need to be everything to everyone. You cannot be everything to everyone.

In fact, everyone will appreciate you more if you do less and you do it well.

Focus on the positive. Who cares if Susie and Sally won't write with you? Sarah and Sam love writing with you! Yes, it would make sense for Susie to plot with you because your characters work together - but again, this is a hobby, not real life, and if you and Susie don't vibe, your characters don't need to interact! Why write with people who make you feel insecure? Trick question; there's NO reason to!

I understand the drive to be well-liked. Trust! I, too, desperately want to be well-liked. You'll have better luck if you don't try so hard. Be yourself and make friends with people who genuinely like you. Stop worrying about what the site's yearbook will look like. There isn't going to be a fucking yearbook.

Jealousy (especially ship-related)

Do you ever find yourself feeling a spike of anxiety or resentment when one of your favorite writing partners writes with someone else?

This reaction is especially common where ships are concerned: when one partner writes AU ships with their character, or has a plot with their character's previous partners before their OTP, etc.

It's a bit territorial, and it's not a good look, friends!

Your writing partners get to write with other people. How much they enjoy writing with other people has nothing to do with how much they enjoy writing with you. How much they write with other people has nothing to do with you. What they write has nothing to do with you. It's not all about you!

It truly doesn't matter how anxious you feel when your writing partners write with other people. They are entitled to write with whoever they want! What makes you nervous about them writing with other people?

In a forum rp environment, the best way to secure fulfilling, satisfying character arcs for your character is to plot with multiple others. That includes you, on both fronts: your writing partner needs you for their character's development as much as you need them! They aren't going to just stop writing with you arbitrarily.

If they do stop writing with you, there is probably a reason! Are they still on the site? Are they still writing? Are they going through something in real life that might impact their muse? There could be a hundred reasons why they are writing more with Susie now than they were with you, and they could be anything from "Susie is out of town this week so I want to give her a lot of replies to come home to" to "a ladder fell on my head and I am recovering from a concussion" to, possibly, "your territorial behavior makes me uncomfortable, and I would rather write with people who do not make me feel bad about writing with other people."

This behavior is especially weird in a ship context, and is something worth unpacking. When you write ships, do you resent/get anxious about your ship partner writing AU ship threads? About their character having previous partners? About their character having crushes that they do not act on?

An AU ship is an alternate universe specifically because it is not real. Susie and Sally shacking up in a space AU has no bearing over whether or not Susie and Marco end up together as finals.

Just like human beings have romantic history, it makes sense for characters to have romantic history, and these plots give your writing partner an opportunity to write plots that they might not get with you. For example, your writing partner might want to write a breakup plot with weird friendship tensions, which might not be a relevant vibe for Susie and Marco. But your partner can explore that with Marco and Sally. Again: it's not all about you, and your writing partner gets to write what they want, and you do, too.

Sometimes I think we can trace the territorial side of ship-oriented plotting to toxic monogamy culture, as described here. Particularly relevant are the below:

the idea that you should meet your partner’s every need, and if you don’t, you’re either inadequate or they’re too needy

the idea that commitment is synonymous with exclusivity

the idea that your insecurities are always your partner’s responsibility to tip-toe around and never your responsibility to work on

the idea that your value to a partner is directly proportional to the amount of time and energy they spend on you, and it is in zero-sum competition with everything else they value in life

Your writing partner is not cheating on your ship by giving their character other ships. If it feels that way to you, you are getting too emotionally invested, and you should probably back off of ship-oriented plotting for a while to unpack why you are feeling this way.

That said, of course be clear about boundaries. This applies both to M-rated content and to parameters of plotting. For example, you might tell your partner that you are not interested in a plot whose core conflict is "will they or won't they." You want to write these characters with the longevity of their relationship never in doubt. You might not want a plot where one character is cheating on the other. You might want these characters to be monogamous. That's fair! It's not fair for you to expect your writing partner to limit the plots they do that do not actually involve your character to avoid triggering your insecurities.

Overview for dealing with jealousy:

It's not all about you! Your writing partners deserve to have a good time as much as you deserve to have a good time. They can enjoy writing with you AND writing with someone else.

Be very clear with your boundaries. If there are plots between your character and another character that you cannot write, let your partner know before they accidentally step in a minefield.

Be willing to step away from ships. There are plenty of plots that do not involve ships. If ships make you a jealous and anxious mess, you should stop writing ships and work on that journey. It is more important to be a good writing partner than it is to write romantic ships.

Writing is such a personal thing, and we all of course connect very deeply to our characters - it only makes sense that we be invested in their outcomes! But if your gut reaction is one of jealousy, this is something that you need to work on, not something your writing partners should need to tiptoe around.

The server is not therapy.

Because rp is an online hobby, it can be easy to forget that every person you interact with in the server or forum is also a whole ass person on the other side of the screen. Which is to say, your rp friends do not exist to be your emotional support.

Of course they can be supportive - some of my closest friends are people I have met through rp! But online as in real life, you need to remember that everyone is always going through something. You are never the only person in the world who needs support, and you need to be thoughtful in how you engage with your friends here.

Do you listen when they share their problems, or do you immediately change the subject to talk more about your own? Do they not share their problems at all - is this a one-sided close friendship? Are the majority of your DMs to them seeking comfort, advice, affirmation, validation?

If you need a text-based counseling service, BetterHelp can connect you with a therapist. A therapist is a person whose job is to listen and ask nothing from you for their own personal emotional needs.

Your friends - online as in real life - are not therapists. They will not always have the bandwidth to help you. They will not always feel comfortable helping you. The internet breeds a sense of intimacy, the idea that regular chat conversation makes for a deep knowledge of another person. And of course this is sometimes the case! But in many cases, the person you are asking for psychoanalysis in the DMs on Discord doesn't actually know you very well. And if you have been relying on them for emotional support, you might be wearing them out.

Overview for not treating your rp friends like therapists:

Be thoughtful. If you have something heavy you want to talk about, first ask if they have the bandwidth. For example: "Hi Susie! Do you have the energy to give me some advice on x work issue?"

Listen. If your friend wants to talk about their issues, stop thinking about how you can relate and it sounds just like that time you... and just LISTEN. If you want to offer advice, keep it about them. If you don't know how to help, commiserate. "That's rough, buddy."

Self-check. Look at your chat history as though it's between your friend and someone you've never met. What do you think of this person? Are they a good listener? Do they reciprocate the support they get from your friend? Do they remember things your friend tells them about their own life? Or is this a one-sided conversation? If you're realizing that you're leaning too much on this friend, give them some space. If you're realizing you've gone way overboard leaning on this friend, maybe apologize and promise to be more conscientious going forward.

Be considerate. Remember that every person you know from the internet is so much more than what you've seen - I don't mean that in a "all internet users are creeps" way, I mean that in a "even if you've chatted in a server with some every day for six months, you still don't actually know them super well." Think of other people you've spent Some Time with. Think of your lab partner in 8th grade bio. You shared a desk with them for an hour a day five days a week for two thirds of the year. How much of your life did you share with them?

This tutorial got LONG - sorry, friends! Lots to talk about. I'm always happy to give Real TalksTM like this one. Feel free to drop into my askbox if you have a topic you'd like me to cover. I'm full of thoughts and feelings, and it would give me great joy for y'all to ask for them for once.

I hope this is helpful, and wish all y'all the best. Happy writing!

[trojc-rewrite]

The Rise of Jimmy Casket, Chapter 3

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Toast awoke to the sun blaring in his eyes and pain. Everything hurt, his throat, his leg, his back. He frowned as he shifted upwards. More hot pain flared through his leg, scorching up his side. He let out a small cry, immediately recoiling and lying back down. He groaned, rubbing his head.

Spooker shifted beside him, blinking tiredly. Toast had never seen him so tired before, his eyes were droopy and his hair was a mess. His beanie had sticks and leaves stuck in it, dirt and soot were smeared across his cheek.

“You look well rested.” Spooker said in a happy tone. Toast mustered up a smile.

“Yeah, hardly.” He said, trying to lean up again. More pain seared through him. He toughed it out, ignoring his body’s begging to tell him to sit. He needed to get up. He wasn’t going to let himself give up on why he came out here.

Toast weakly got up, trying to not put too much wait on his bad leg. Spooker helped him up. Colon was already up, examining the damage from the fire.

The wood was blackened and burned, just the tiniest bit warm still. Cracks and splinters scored the planks, letting Toast see inside of them. Something that stood out to him was the rippling green that stained the inside of some of the cracks. It wasn’t grass, it was a weird lime green, faint but still there. ‘What on earth?’

He reached down and picked up a small burned chunk, it stained his hand with ash. He examined the green some more. ‘What could this even be?’

Colon wandered over to him, looking curious. “How are you feeling, Toast?” He asked, glancing at the red cloth around his wound. Toast shrugged.

“Still alive, yeah?” He said. Toast showed Colon the blackened wood. “Hey, do you know what this could be?”

Colon took the piece gently, studying the green that emitted from the cracks. He shook his head, placing the piece back in Toast’s palm. “No idea, my best guess is that it could be something the firemen put on the fire last night.”

Toast nodded, stuffing the wood in one of his back pockets. “Well, we should keep going. The nearest town isn’t tha’ far away.”

Spooker stared at him like he had just suggested a crime, “Are you crazy dude? You can hardly stand! How are you gonna walk?”. He held out his arms in exasperation.

Toast shrugged, looking towards the North. “We’ll get there.” Spooker and Colon shared a look, but they didn’t need to say anything for Toast to figure out what they meant. “I know he’s out there. Trust me.”

Colon sighed, worried. “But what if he’s not, Toast? What if you get even more hurt or worse, and we’re just chasing something because you have a hunch! Toast; we’re worried. We know you miss Ghost, we do to-.”

Toast looked at him, “Just trust me. I know Ghost better than anyone here, just trust me.”

Spooker blinked, not saying any input. Colon gave him an unreadable look. “Fine, but if you get hurt again we’re leaving.”

Toast bit back a sigh. “Okay; then let's go.”

————————————————————————

They reached the town a little after noon, and the first thing Toast did was go to the library. The library was small, a line of old desktop computers filled a wall. Books of all volumes and colors sat in bookshelves that looked dusty. An older woman sat at a round desk in the middle of the room, flipping through a thick chapter book.

Toast limped up to her, Colon helping him while Spooker looked at a book shelf labeled “Romance”. She squinted up at him, fixing her glasses.

“Hello, how may I help you?” She asked, a small smile gracing her face. Toast returned it.

“Hello, I have a peculiar question. Would you happen to have any newspaper records on a man named Jimmy Casket?” He asked, feeling awkward. The lady blinked at him, a little confused.

“It’s for a school project for our little brother.” Colon said, trying to ease the tension off of Toast.

The librarian nodded, pursing her lips. “Well, we have a few I believe. You’ll have more luck in the towns a few miles over, dearies. But, I’ll go get the few that we have.”

She got up from her desk, and entered a room in the back of the library. Toast turned to Colon and nodded, “When did you pick up being that creative?” He asked. Colon shrugged.

“It’s probably the one thing Ghost taught me, to be able to lie on the spot.” He smiled playfully. Toast returned it solemnly.

A few moments later, the librarian returned with three newspapers, yellowed and crumpled a bit at the edges. “Here you are. I’m afraid it’s all we have.” She said, handing Colon the three newspapers. The two shared a look before Toast thanked her.

The two settled down on a table, opening the first newspaper. The title leaped at them in bold font, “Murderer struck down in South Carolina.”

Toast read quietly to himself and Colon. “ Yesterday, at 9:01 PM, a famous murderer in a small town in South Carolina, nicknamed “Casket”, was killed by police during one of his rampages. Witnesses say it was a horrifying experience. The man was no older than 18, and his step-mother, who preferred to stay anonymous, has told reporters that she ‘has no idea how he turned out this way.’

“ He was such a loving and kind child, accepting me right away as his father’s wife. When his father died, he took it upon himself to be the best figure possible for his family. I don’t know what happened to him.”

Police are still looking into possible victims of this man's heinous crimes. The towns folk are sending their regards to the families of his confirmed victims.”

Toast took a breath, finishing the paragraph. Colon blinked.

“Wait wait wait, who is this Jimmy Casket guy? How does this have anything to do with Ghost?” Colon asked, flicking the page of the newspaper. Toast traced a circle in the table.

“Let’s say I’ve met him in a few of my missions with Ghost.” Toast worded carefully.

The two finished reading the other articles and handed them back to the librarian. “You three boys have a nice night.” She said with a smile.

“You too ma’am.” Toast responded politely. Spooker was by the entrance of the library, reading Twilight on a bench. “C’mon Spooker put the book back, it’s time to go.”

Spooker frowned, sadly putting the book on a “put back” cart. He followed his co workers outside, it was night now. The moon shined down on the town, yellow lights dancing on the gravel ground.

“Well, we keep moving.” Toast said. Colon and Spooker groaned.

The three made it to the edge of town, making it out of a large pine forest. A river lay ahead of them, deep and murky. It was quiet and slow moving, but you could tell it was deep.

Spooker pointed to a bridge, “Let’s cross there.” He said. Colon and Spooker helped Toast to the stone and wood crossing. The wood was wet and rotten in spots, and it groaned as Toast stepped on it.

“Let me go first,” Toast volunteered. Spooker and Colon shook their heads at him, but Toast ignored them. He limped across the wailing wood, yelling under his weight.

As he got closer to the middle, a figure stepped out of the darkness. Long legs stepped lightly on the cedar, tapping away at the weak wood. Toast stared in confusion, trying to figure out who the person was.

His brother's face gleaned from the shadows, stepping out into the moonlight. Toast's eyes widened, blinking in shock.

“Gavin? What are you doing here?!” His brother's gray-green eyes glared at him.

“Sorry Johnny Boy, but I’m gonna have to stop ya righ’ ‘ere. Or else my frien’ might not be the happies’ with me.” Gavin apologized. Johnny could tell that his brothers apology wasn’t sincere in the slightest. In fact, it sounded more taunting than anything.

“What do you mean? Gavin, please what do you mean?” His brother stepped forward.

And then with incredible speed, green-orange fire erupted from his hand. Toast dodged out of the way, knocking into the railing. The bridge under him groaned in agony. Gavin’s hot flames flicked his face, burning his cheek

“Do ya like my tricks?! Pays when ya work with ghosts.” Gavin laughed. More flames shot from his palms, hitting Toast's feet. Toast tried to get away, but the movement was too much for the bridge.

His foot went through the rotten wood, and he grappled onto the jagged stone, barely saving himself from falling into the river. ‘I won't be able to swim. I'm too weak.’

Spooker and Colon cried out, “Toast!”. Colon stepped forward to charge at Gavin, but Spooker held him back.

Toast looked back up at his brother, begging for his remorse. “Please Gavin, I’m your brother!” He begged. His fingers hurt from grappling the wood, rotten splinters digging into his palms.

Gavin chuckled, “Yeah, but then ya got all lame n’ sappy with Mary n’ Ghost. You ain’t the same anymore. And Ghost is borin’ too now. Trust me, what we’re workin’ on, it’s for the good o’ both o’ ya’.”

Johnny glared at him, “Who’s we?” He asked curtly. Gavin growled at him.

“See ya’.” Gavin returned his brother's angry tone. He raised his leg to kick him. Toast grabbed his brother by the leg and yanked him down with him, letting go of the bridge. His brother yelled angrily.

“TOAST!” Spooker screamed in horror, racing to the edge of the bridge. Toasts world went deaf as he hit the water, slowing under it. His brother disappeared with a flash of green, leaving him alone to drown.

Toast tried to swim and kick his legs, but he just hurt too much. Everything hurt, he felt so heavy. Maybe he wouldn’t see Ghost, maybe he wouldn't hold up his promise to Mary.

‘Oh Mary, I’m so sorry.’ He rubbed his wedding ring necklace. He closed his eyes, sinking.

Then, something grabbed him by the torso. Gray and blue flashed hazily in his darkened vision. He kicked weakley, trying to help whoever had grabbed him.

He and his rescuer broke to the surface, and he gasped for air. Cold water trickled down his face, clogging up his senses. The world became hearable again.

His rescuer slapped him down onto the grass, and he could hear Colon and Spooker running across the bridge, ignoring the bridge's pleas.

“Didn’t your rich mother ever take you to swimming lessons?” A tired, sarcastic voice asked.

Toasts heart leaped in his chest, and he opened his eyes.

There, infront of him, was Ghost.