#If that happens hand me the clown makeup even though I’m already wearing a lot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rosie-rosem · 1 year

Text

hate pt 1

❥ pairing: nonidol!jake x fem!reader

❥ genre: angst, fluff?, highschoolau!

❥ summary: y/n is the quiet type; however, she cannot stand bullying. Is it because she been involved with something similar or not?? jake, her next-door neighbor and childhood friend (not really), is dating the girl who is making y/n's school life exhausting. she can't catch a break between being at school and home. But she also can't express her feelings...

❥ warnings: crying, grammar mistakes, not proofread, bullying, let me know if I forgot something

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

WC: 2.8k

A/N: It's been a while since I last posted. this is going to be 2 parts just cause wanted to post something by today but wouldn't have been able to finish it so here you are. the second part should be posted sometime next week! please be patient with me :3

school. not exactly your favorite place, you don’t get the best grades or have to many friends. There is too much bullying at your school, an unexceptionable amount. Your school like isn’t a normal public school, it’s more like an all “rich kids” school, not quite private either though. The only kids who get picked on are the scholars which is completely stupid because they are probably smarter than half the non-scholar kids there.

you, on the other hand, are not a scholar which is only beneficial because you do get a good education (even if you suck at it) and you don’t get picked on too much. Your parents are quite wealthy. your father owning a tech company and you mother working for a fashion company. Your parents obviously want you to go to college, graduate and find some amazing career, but that’s not going to happen so quick. You fortunately don’t have the pressure of being an heiress for your dad’s company due to your older brother already being next in line.

Compared to you brother, you are more troublesome and carefree. Him being a workaholic and definitely more mature. Of course, you get compared to him. but while he’s finishing up his years in college you're finishing up yours in high school. oh, can’t you wait to graduate from school, especially this school. You don’t exactly like cause trouble, it just happens a lot, which brings us here.

you rolled your eyes at the scene that was happening in front of the class. You just wanted to rest your eyes a bit more before the bell rung but you clearly got disrupted. Cha Soo-Yun, the most annoying girl you’ve met, she’s always the one to pick on the scholars which annoys the hell out of you. She was currently picking on a transfer student who got the scholarship and gladly switched schools, she’s a junior and her name is Soon Yunji. “Haha, look at all this garbage” Soo-Yun said laughing with her one friend after dumping Yunji’s belongings from her backpack on the ground. the poor girl looks traumatized, who wouldn’t I mean Soo-Yun looks like a clown with the amount of makeup she wears to school. You couldn’t stand seeing Yunji look so pale from being embarrassed so you stood up and gladly walked in front of the girl’s desk. Soo-Yun just scoffed “ruining the fun again i see.” she crossed her arms. “it’s kind of pathetic that the first 20 minutes after you arrived, you're already picking on someone.” you must look tired but also annoyed because that’s exactly how you feel.

“Why do you always get in my way?” Soo-Yun complains. You cough, aiming it towards her, she scoffs and backs up in disgust. “Sorry, I’m getting over a cold, wouldn’t want to catch it princess, would you?” you smile to her in an annoying way, which just pisses her off even more. “euk, I can’t believe someone like you goes to this school” she states, still looking at you with disgust. you sigh, shoulders dropping “and I can’t believe you looked in the mirror this morning and thought your makeup looked good.” you give her a slight smirk. she fumes as some of the other kids in the classroom whisper after your comeback. she sprints over to you with an arm raised, she goes in for a slap, but you successfully dodge the hit. “Ah, you missed.” you say, eyebrow furrowed. You sigh after lifting your chin a bit more “it’s okay, hit me. I can take it. plus, I probably deserve it…right?” you say, stretching a bit, read for a hit. she scoffs once again as she glares into your cold gaze. “Unless you're scared.” you cock your head to the side which an eyebrow raised. Soo-Yun breathes a frustrated sigh. “a few minutes ago, you didn’t seem so scared to- “you state before feeling a stinging pain on your left cheek.

she did it. she fell for it. you hear a few gasps leave other classmates' mouths after the girl slapped you. you chuckle to her. Soo-Yun frowns “why are you laughing” she practically growls. “I need you to realize that I didn’t start this fight, okay?” you say, she furrows her eyebrows “what? -" she begins but before she finishes you kick her at the waist, causing her to fall to the ground. “Oh, I’m sorry, did that hurt” you crouch down and give her a mocking look.

Just as you stand up from crouching a familiar scent comes quickly, Sim Jake. Helping Soo-Yun up, he glares at you, and you shrug, “you need to control your girlfriend Jaeyun.” you say before quickly turning around and help Yunji pick up her things from the ground. “You good?” you ask, she just nods “yeah, and thanks.” she smiles you nod, “no problem.” you respond before standing up and heading back to your desk. You lay you head on your desk once more, trying to find enough peace to rest a tiny bit more but all you hear is Soo-Yuns' whiny voice complaining to Jake about you.

You weren’t worried about possibly getting in trouble at school, you were mostly worried if your parents would find out, which of course they did. “Why did you attack Cha Soo-Yun at school today.” Your father spews his anger out quite quickly once you get home. “Who told?” you said which no expression on your face. “That doesn’t matter right now y/n! I’m asking you a question.” his jaw clenches, you sigh “was it jake?” you ask. he lets out a deep, frustrated sigh. “Unfortunately, we had to hear the news from his parents, do you know how embarrassing that is?” he rests his hand on his forehead in embarrassment. “that’s why tonight i made plans to have dinner with Jaeyun and his parents, you're not only going to apologize to jake but also to Soo-Yun tomorrow in school.” he points his finger at you. you nod, acknowledging that you're listening to him. “Okay now head you your room, I’m tired of you.” he says with annoyance in his tone.

"Tired of me, oh please." you say as you lay your head down on your pillow after falling onto you bed. once again jake’s being an asshole. you look over to your window only to see Jake walking around his room like he’s looking for something. you stand up and walk over to the window, he also sees you, giving you and annoying smirk only for you to reply by harshly closing your blinds.

The time came, when Jake and his parents were invited over that day. You work a baby pink sweater with a knee-high white skirt. "You look good, Hun" your mother complimented. you slightly smiled to acknowledge that you heard her. "Is everything fine at school?" She worriedly asked you. "everything's fine mom, Soo-Yun is just problematic and jake's not much better." you said with a frustrated tone. "Plus, dad just clearly likes jake more than me so..." you slightly rolled your eyes at the thought, you mom sighed in return. "You know your father-" She began but got cut off by the sound of the front door opening and familiar voices be heard.

you and jakes' families have been close for as long as you can remember. Part of that being because both dads grew up together another part being because you are neighbors. Although, you and Jake started disagreeing a lot more once you both hit puberty. You both were never very close but close enough. Well, until high school.

"y/n!" a sweet voice calls out to you as you walk towards the door. You give a soft smile to the beautiful lady. Jakes mom, she was so sweet, she was like another mom to you. You loved her. You opened your arms and gave her a tight hug. "How are you, my love?" She pets your head with a gentle touch. You nodded to her with a genuine smile, still in her arms "good, I've been good." She soon let you go, to which you walk over to Mr. Sim, Jakes dad. You look up to him, awkwardly. "Ah, come here" the man says, pulling you into his side, with a hug. You smile, once again.

You were quite close with both of Jakes parents, they were like a second pair of parents to you. You loved them dearly. "Hey kiddo" Mr. Sim says. "hey" you laugh in return. You both let go, only to walk back over to you mom but turn to look at Jake and slightly bow your head a little just to show a bit of respect, to which he gives nothing in return.

You all head over to the dinner table and get settled to start eating. A few conversations start but you just listen quietly. A bit longer into dinner, you get asked something. "So how has school been y/n?" Mr. Sim asks, genuinely curious. You look up from your plate, "It's been okay." You pick at your food while answering. Jake gives a quiet scoff which only leads you to sigh. "Speaking of which, I believe there's something you would like to say to Jake, isn't there y/n." Your dad says while giving you a glare. He motions you to stand up. You assumed you would be able to apologize to Jake privately, but no, Hes making you do it in front of everyone. Everyone else looked a bit confused, besides Jake of course.

You gulped and stood up from your chair. You hesitated for a bit, "I'm sorry..." You said but soon continued after you dad gave you a look suggesting that you continued. "I'm sorry for how I treated Soo-Yun today. I will be apologizing to her separately as well, but because she's someone you care about, I'm apologizing to you too." You said, keeping you head down, biting the inside of your cheek in embarrassment. Jake just nods his head but then continues to eat. you sigh. Meanwhile, everyone else felt the awkward tension. "Good enough." your father says, which absolutely outrages you. You sit down as your lip quivers. You dad basically showed everyone how much control he had over you, and you hated it.

You held back your tears and continued to eat while putting on a smile to not show how upset you felt. After a little bit, when the tension cooled off you spoke up, "Excuse me, I'm going to use the bathroom" You gave a soft, yet fake smile.

Instead of going to the bathroom you went to your backyard patio and sat on the little bench swing. You felt even more frustrated and upset than you did earlier. You dad was nothing like jakes, and of course you didn't want to compare them, but your always jealous of how jake gets treated by his dad compared to you with yours. You sat there with a frown, picking your nails but soon hear heavy footsteps getting closer, Jake. "That was tense" he says, sitting next to you. "You enjoyed it, huh?" you said, still not looking his way. "Not as much as I will tomorrow when you say it to her." He says which makes you finally look at him. how did he know you were going to apologize to her tomorrow, your dad only told you to a few hours ago. "What if I don't do it tomorrow, huh?" you raise your eyebrows at him. "I would, because I can easily tell your father." he chuckles. You clench your teeth. "What, are you mad I know your weakness?" he says. "Weakness?" you question. "Your dad." he says. you squint. was he right? was your dad your weakness? "You don't know anything about me Sim Jake." Your lip twitches. "we'll see about that" he says, you stand up and walk away.

When you return to the others, you speak out, "I'm sorry, but I'm not feeling very well. I'm going to have to say goodbye now so I can lay down." You explain and say your goodbye before heading up to your room. Once you close your door, you feel an overwhelming sense of sadness and panic. Your dad is your weakness and that hurts your heart so much realizing it now. You dad wasn't always like this, he was kind, loving and fun up until you hit middle school. you don't know what happened, but it was like once your older brother left, he was terrible.

You walked over to your window and opened the closed blinds, sliding the window open to get a bit fresh air due to feeling suffocated. You didn't want to cry, but you couldn't help it. What's happening to you.

You eventually head over to your bed and fall asleep with shiny streaks on your face from the tears.

I hate you sim jaehyun.

The next day at school was nothing you ever imagined. It felt like all those k-dramas you watched where you were walking towards your classroom and everyone around you was whispering while you walk past. You felt confused. When you walked into the classroom, all eyes were on you which gave you chills. You scan the room only to see Soo-Yun crying in her seat, arm wrapped in a bandage. You sigh as Jake glares at you.

“Park y/n!” you turn to the crying girl. “Do you see what you caused?” she stood up and stomped your way. you eyed the ground annoyingly. “Ah, about that, I apologize for how I acted yesterday. It was wrong of me to kick you” you looked at her, apologizing. Jake kept a close eye on you while his girlfriend let out a snotty comment. “You realize that you're the bad guy now, right?” she chuckled, you turned to her. “That doesn’t matter to me. Just be happy I apologized.” you glared at her for a moment before turning away and heading to you seat. “Hah, only cause your daddy told you to.” she scoffed, you turned around in shock by her words. “What?” you said with furrowed eyebrows. You tightly closed you fist at her words, how did she know anything about that? you looked at Jake, he just looks back with no expression at all.

you looked around to see everyone looking at you like you just committed a sin, what the hell is going on. You ran out of the classroom, only to bump into someone on your way out, “sorry.” you mumbled not paying any attention to who they were, and you heart was racing, it felt like you were going to throw up, why though?

“Can you pick me up?” you called you brother with a shaky voice. He said he’d be there soon, so you just had to wait.

Did Jake tell? What was going on. Why were you so affected by your dad getting brought up? You brought you hand to your chest and rubbed it to get your heartbeat to slow a bit. “y/n” someone called for you. you turned to the familiar voice with anger and hurt in your eyes and a quivering lip. “What?” you practically yelled. Jake walked closer, only for you to back up. “Did you get what you wanted?” you said, holding you tears back. Jake really hurt you this time. “What?” he asked. Just then, a car pulls up. You brother rolls down the window and greets jake. “Go.” you say to you brother after getting in. He’s confused, but still listens.

You sit across your older brother in his apartment. He gave you a juice box which you were currently drinking. “So, what happened?” he asks, putting his elbows on the counter in the kitchen. “Nothing much, I just felt like skipping today. And please don’t tell dad!” you practically begged him. “Is he still giving you a hard time?” he asks. you were always comfortable telling you brother things, but this was different. It was your dad, and he was very close with your dad. “Ah, no..” you lied “he’s just been busy lately.” you say, reassuring you brother with a fake smile. “Hm, okay” he pets your head.

“But what was Jake doing outside with you?” he questions. “Not sure, but I don��t care. he’s an asshole,” you frown more when thinking back. “What?” he asked. “Him and his girlfriend are both assholes.” you share, still feeling mad. “I hate him.” you start tearing up. “Huh? what’s up?” he walks over to you. you start crying harder. “he’s so stupid.” you say. Your brother pats you back. “What do I do?” you question into your brother's chest. “I’ll make some ramen.” your brother says, you sniffle and nod.

______________________________________

hope you liked pt 1! come back for pt 2 (here) <3

#enhypen #kpop #enha #fanfic #jake #jake enhypen #sim jake #jake sim #enhypen jake #kpop ff #enhypen angst #high school au #jake x reader

161 notes · View notes

jacktorjoseph · 1 year

Note

*The tips of my ears turn red from the nicknames, but I have to internally remind myself that it could be a Southern thing and not a flirtatious move on his part. Waitresses with a southern twang in movies use doll and sugar to refer to people, so it could be just the same here! Right? I feel my mouth start to open as if wanting to say something, but quickly shut it, my eyes flicking between the sheet music and your crouching form beside me. Securing the papers I haven’t tucked away yet to my chest, I let a sigh escape the smile forming on my face. I extend my arm to carefully take the flimsy stack from your hand and mutter out a polite “thank you.”*

So you mean you the best people then?

*I playfully ask. My smile grows warm while my eyes soften from your reassuring words.*

I mean, you’ve got access to the best food and conversations around so I’d rather curry their favor than the sour puss wastoids I’ve been encountering all day. Don’t you think you’re being a little too hard on yourself though? I wouldn’t think those moms would even let those kids around, much less be FRIENDS with you if you have that bad of a reputation as you say you do. I appreciate you putting in a good word for me.

*I slide the sheet music into the vinyl side pocket and inspect the contents to make sure everything won’t fall out again.*

Actions speak louder than words and words say more than looks do and so far you’ve done a lot more for me here than anyone else I’ve encountered down here. Besides, I don’t think I’m best qualified to judge appearances when I look like I just stepped out of a children’s bedtime story.

*I motion towards my outfit.*

My talent agency gives me such a hard time about it, but I think I’d die internally if I had to wear zebra stripes and neon leg warmers just to get more gigs.

*Letting out a breathy laugh, I close my binder and tap it against the floor. I stop for a moment before turning my head towards you again with a confused expression.*

We have to wear wigs? In THIS heat?

*I shake my head and scoff.*

Jesus, well isn’t that just a lawsuit in the making. Stage lights are already bad enough with how hot they happen to be, but we have to deal with the Texas humidity too?!

*I chew at my lip.*

Let’s just hope they have enough ice cold water around or half of the cast will be on stretchers before they finish filming. Speaking of filming, you said this is a kid’s show, right? Is there anything else you know about it?

-🧜🏻‍♀️

Joseph nods as he agrees with you as he chuckles a bit.

It's alright, I normally get called some type of weird nicknames by non locals because of how I look.

Also, I enjoy the princess dress, better than some of the name brand or pricey shit I see the other actors wearing around when they come in. 'Sides, I bet that dress lets in a lot more breeze, right doll?

He nods.

yea, wigs, makeup, and those of us on screen gotta wear the specific outfits, mine's got a vest, jeans, belt, lots of shit to it. I'd say so, but some of us already knew, however, I know a quick place for a nice cool breeze, it's the bathrooms, but hey, a cool breeze is a cool breeze. Somewhere around here they got a fan in front of a cooler of ice to, so if you get to hot after shooting feel free to just, stick you head in there.

He smiles at you, and gets back up, stretching.

And yea, it's a kid, most I know is I play a clown soooo

#somethings wrong with sunny day jack #sunny day jack #sdj joseph #sunnydayjack #swwsdj #sdj jacktor #joseph cullman #jacktor #roleplay account #joseph haberdae

2 notes · View notes

raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 years

Note

A large box materialized in the corner of the room, decorated gaudily with purple wrapping paper, a bright red bow, and raw macaroni glued over practically every visible inch of the box. If you listened closely, you could make out the occasional giddy giggle coming from the inside of the box whenever it wiggled, demanding the attention of the beautiful birthday boy.

“Vil’s gonna love this!” Mac gushed to themself from the inside of the box, dressed up in thick clown makeup and an equally excessive clown outfit. “He’ll open the box up, and I’ll pop out to greet him and tell him that I’ll be his birthday present and his personal footstool, if he wants…”

Within the darkness of the box, they flushed a bright red, fanning their face like the lovestruck fool they were. Whenever they could make out the sound of his heels clacking on the attic floor, Mac shivered excitedly at the thought of his feet slamming down on their back and keeping their face shoved against the floor for them to drool onto.

The beautiful Queen needs a loyal court, and was there anyone better than to play the role of the court fool than the head empty pasta fanatic? Mac thought not.

*pokes Mac with a stick*

Come get your dinner.

At long last, evening had set in, and the last of Vil’s fan club had been sated and sent off for the day. The once brilliant blue sky had darkened to a deep violet--nearly black--and the stars, one by one, awoke from their daytime slumber to play amid the moonlight. Night Raven College, touched in silver, was a new world entirely.

Vil ran a hand along the nape of his neck and sighed.

“Excellent work, Roi du Poison!” Rook sang, patting his dorm leader on the back. “You’ve survived the onslaught--though you appear to be a little worse for wear from it.”

“I am not in need of your insightful commentary at this time, Rook,” Vil warned, his tone pointed.

The huntsman did not flinch--not a single beat missed. He removed his hat and held it close to his chest as he dipped into a bow. “Oui.”

A moment elapsed before Rook lifted his head, eyes creased teasingly. “... Though I would still advise you, mon roi, to retire early for the evening. All this stress may lead to a breako--”

“I am in need of some fresh air,” Vil declared sharply. “If you have need of me, I will be outside.”

“... Bien sûr.”

The birthday boy turned and swept out of the stuffy attic. Down the staircase he descended, and out into the bitter night air--or rather, he would have, were it not for ramming his foot into an oddly placed box, covered in bright purple and red, and raw macaroni pieces.

Vil hissed and drew his foot back--but to his alarm, the box began... wiggling intensely and... giggling?

“What in the name of the Great Seven is this doing here?” he wondered out loud, but no response came.

Out of curiosity, Vil cautiously prodded the box with his foot again. The touch immediately elicited another loud giggle.

Something... No, someone is in there. Vil brought a hand to his forehead, heaving another sigh (what number was it now?).

His manager had warned him about accepting suspicious packages--particularly crazed or rowdy fans would sometimes send nasty pranks or parcels with dangerous goods inside. He wasn’t about to risk his health and safety for a shady package. Vil would go fetch Rook to open it for him--

Bu then it happened.

The box flew open, and out erupted...

A clown.

Quintessential--face painted a stark white, garishly colorful lips, eyes, and cheeks, a bulbous and round nose, a fluffy rainbow wig... Even the outfit was clownish, the fabric baggy but bright, with a frilly collar, gloves, and massive shoes that squeaked with even the slightest movement.

The clown let out a whoop of excitement, leapt out of the box, and eagerly honked their nose. It squeaked loudly, like a dog’s chew toy or a kazoo.

Vil stumbled back a few steps in complete and utter astonishment. He squinted through the thick clown makeup and gaudy clothing, his mind slowly piecing together the familiar facial features.

The cheesy potato.

“Mac... Is that you?”

“Heehoo,” Mac honked their nose again. They wore the widest, goofiest grin Vil had ever witnessed, even by the standards of his most lovestruck of followers. “Happy, happy birthday, Vil!!”

He ignored the greeting and cut to a question. “... Dare I ask why it is that you are dressed in such an outlandish getup?”

“Hehehe... Actually! It’s cuz... I’m your birthday present!!” Mac declared, splaying their arms out.

“You... what?”

“I’m your birthday present!!” They repeated, practically vibrating with zeal. “Cuz every queen needs a loyal court jester...!!”

“I am in no need of such--”

“Please please please please PLEASE let me serve you!!” Mac wailed desperately, flinging themselves at Vil’s feet. “I’ll tell the dumbest jokes, and I can be your personal human footstool--you can step on me whenever you want!! I’ll make you the tastiest, cheesiest pasta, and maybe we can get closer and then move in someplace together and live a nice domestic life, and have lots of kids--I’ve already got their names picked out--and and and...”

“Stop. You’re drooling,” Vil said coldly. His cruel, frigid tone sent a shiver down Mac’s spine, filling them with a sense of ecstasy that only he could deliver.

“Heheheh...” They wiped saliva from the corner of their mouth with the back of their hand. “Sorry, I just get so excited when I talk about you.”

“I know,” Vil groaned, cradling his forehead in a hand. “... I know.”

“Are you... angry with me? I-If you are, please take out your rage by stomping all over my back and snapping me like a glowstick!! PLEASE USE ME, SCHOENHEIT!!”

“You never seem to stop spouting nonsensical logic.”

“I don’t need logic...!! Because I have something way better than logic: LOVE!!”

Vil glanced away.

A deathly silence fell over the foyer.

For one horrible, dreadful moment, Mac thought they had done something wrong. It wasn’t like Vil--confident, beautiful Vil--to be at such a loss for words. Was he so terribly cross that he couldn’t even bring himself to spit out any insults at them? Did he hate them so much that he didn’t even deem them worthy to receive his vitriol?

“H-Hey, Vil... Did I.. Did I go too far?”

“... Pfft.”

“Huh?”

Laughing.

Vil was laughing.

Well, not a full-on deep, rumbling belly laugh. It was more like a faint chuckle, soft and delicate, like wind chimes blowing in the spring breeze.

“You never cease to amuse,” Vil remarked, his perfectly groomed brows pinching together, and his lips forming a mocking smile. “Lifting my mood after a long and arduous day certainly takes talent. Perhaps you are more suited to playing the role of court clown after all.”

“Ah, I... I am?” Mac perked up. “I am!! See, see? I can make myself ultra useful to you, Vil--so please accept me as your birthday present!!”

“Hmm. We shall see about that. For now, though...” Vil bent down to meet you at eye level and, extending a hand, he pulled you up from your miserable heap back onto two feet. “We should return to the party.”

“W-We?!” Mac’s heart fluttered.

“... Do your ears work? Yes, I said we. I won’t have you sitting here cold and alone, like some sad, limp noodle that was never properly cleaned up. You will join the birthday festivities, the same as any of my other guests. Is that clear?”

“Yessir!! Whatever you want, Vil!!”

“Good. Now let us away.”

And so, hand in hand, the queen and his clown headed off to their gala.

#Vil birthday takeover

80 notes · View notes

organic-guacamole · 3 years

Text

205 SPOILERS (ignore if the points are out of order, I was sobbing so much I couldn't write it down in order😭)

My first thought when the episode started: "what in the horror movie-"

And then that shifted into "aw Seb's animals, Jimmy with social anxiety is my favourite"

Then at some point I'm thinking, "Zackey, with all due respect, shut up"

"Those hips never lie" ok Ms Jenn, there are children present.

Enough of this man's crusty face, lets talk about seblos holding hands in school.

And omg Carlos' locker is adorable.

Where can I get Seb's flannel though, that's the real question.

What is up with the sexual tension in this season-

First redlyn during the blackout and now Rini in the barn? y'all go to horny jail

Seb is adorable.

Gina what did you do-

She's scaring me, what happened that night???

The after the musical video calls we got were so ambiguous too. if they don't address this asap I will scream, it'll be just like them to drop this plot point and then forget about it.

Ricky.

Gina.

RICKY-

GINA-

WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT RICHARD???

YOU'RE NOT DATING, STOP DOING THAT

GINA OMG YEAH GO OFF ON THIS IDIOT BUT STILL IT WAS HYPOTHETICAL CALM DOWN-

Anyways.

Mike Bowen is hot.

I said what I said.

The ok boomer-

I cant-

"I WAS BORN IN THE 70S"

I love Mike

Mike really dressed up for this woman-

I must admit, the writing for the adults is very interesting imo. I genuinely want to see what's going to happen, who's she going to pick?

Mike? aka "her biggest crush in salt lake"

Benjamin? aka "her arsonist partner"

Zackey Roy? aka "her gay ex boyfriend"

*sniff sniff* What's that I smell?

Jealousy, jealousy following Benjamin Mazzara.

Honest Abe who?

I only know honest Seb.

But fr, how adorable is it that he can't lie to the people he loves, so he just keeps his mouth shut so he doesn't say the truth?

Seb is adorable.

how did ash and Biggie make all those pizzas in a few hours-

honestly-

I've said this before and I'll say it again,

Don't: make Kourtney and Howie a thing.

Do: make them both gay and best friends.

YAY EJ!!!

As someone in the hsmtmts discord server said, "Wait Matt Cornett is in this show?"

Round of applause for Gina's dance. Also it seems like we're shipping Gina and Kaden(platinum blond dancer for those who don't know) now....I don't make the rules🤷🏽‍♀️

Alright here's the moment we've literally all been waiting for:

The Seb seranade.

The way Seb was inspired by Carlos all those years ago made me tear up full on sob.

Who made those mean comments? Drop the addy, I just wanna talk.🔪

Me after the song finished: sobbing "CARLOS BABY GET UP THERE AND KISS YOUR BOYFRIEND"

Me when Carlos stood up: "ITS HAPPENING"

Me when Carlos hugged seb: "ROBBED, IVE BEEN ROBBED! IM CALLING THE POLICE THIS ISNT FAIR"

Me when they lean in again: "OK WAIT"

Me and the police officer when they finally kiss: jumping up and down squealing "FINALLY"

I'm a little bit upset someone's head was blocking half of it but still, it's been years so I'm honestly just glad they got to kiss on screen.

Seb is adorable.

So after all that, I was an emotional mess, shaking like a jackhammer and spamming the server, and when Carlos chooses Ms Jenn as his madrina....I FULLY LOST IT.

"I look like the clown from IT" girl I look like that every day and I don't even wear makeup-

The writers of this show really don't like us to be happy for more than 5 seconds huh? the proof is that EJ's only on screen for 5 seconds at a time

They really had all that emotion, just to slap us in the face with reality/Lily and Zackey's faces.

But like, is that allowed in the Menkies? To just steal the musical that another school already registered with?

And why don't they just try harder with the little mermaid instead of trying to sabatoge and take over the one thing east high has???

But I mean, go off ig.

EJ and Mr Mazzara is like, the duo I never expected, but already love so much. I can't tell if they're "bros" or if they have a father-son relationship. Either way, I hope we get a lot more of it.

EJ's so sweet to Gina in this episode but I don't like the way he looked at her near the end.

Like yeah I like portwell, but as friends. Ignoring for now the fact that Gina is 15 and EJ is literally 18, I don't want them to be anything more than friends because rn it just seems like they're the "leftovers" so the writers wanna couple them up and get it over with.

But please, no.

Gina really just said "lemme crush their little hearts even more, right at the end😁"

Honestly, I feel really bad for her. I totally get where she's coming from with everything. I still don't condone the way she's been treating Ashlyn, not at all, but I understand how she may be excusing it in her own mind.

41 notes · View notes

dork-empress · 3 years

Text

Singing in the Dead of Night Pt 3

Lucy and Damian visit Metropolis.

Past chapters are under my tag 'lucy quinzel' and the whole fic is on my AO3 (url in my description). Please reblog and leave comments.

Flock of Robins

Timtiminey:Guys. Guys. Guess what???

Jason: I thought I deleted this chat.

Timtiminey: Ha funny you think I’d allow you to do that

Timtiminey: And you didn’t guess.

Dickbutt: Tim I’m on a mission.

Dickbutt:.....

Dickbutt: TIM CHANGE MY NAME

Timtiminey: You’re still not guessing.

Dick Grayson’s name was changed to DickiestButtiest

Stephaluffagus: Whatever Is It, Tim?

Jason: Why is Stephanie even on here?

Stephaluffagus: I was a Robin!

Timtiminey: And she asks the questions. Well, you SEE

Timtiminey: DAMIAN GOT A GIRLFRIEND

Stephaluffagus: WHAAAA?!:?HSLHFADSKLJFKL?????

Dick Grayson’s name was changed to DatAssTho

DatAssTho: Awwwww, that’s so cute!!!

DatAssTho: Our little hellion is growing up

DatAssTho: It’s like it was just yesterday he was threatening to stab us all

Jason: That was last week at dinner.

Jason: Who the hell said yes to go out with him?

Timtiminey: That’s the best part! The old man set them up.

Stephaluffagus: ALKSDAN LFKSNDAFLKNDASKLF

DatAssTho: Well thats just not fair. He never set up me on a date.

Jason: He put you on the Titans.

DatAssTho: Watch it, Todd

DatAssTho: Also, you type like an old man

Jason: With proper punctuation?

Stephaluffagus: Guys, we’re straying from the topic: Who is it??

Timtiminey: Harley’s niece, she’s got some like, clown ballerina thing going

Jason: QUINN?!?!?!

Jason: LIKE JOKER’S GIRLFRIEND????

DatAssTho: Dude, they broke up ages ago

Stephaluffagus: Yeah, she’s basically more hero than you are

Jason: You really want to go down THAT route Brown?

Timtiminey: OOOOHKAYYY

Timtiminey: Rest assured, the old man vetted the girl. She’s…..unique? I’ve only seen her file, or part of it anyway

DatAssTho: Bruce has secret files doesn’t he

Timtiminey: I think I made it through the first encryption, but I’m working on the next between other cases.

Timtiminey: After all, we have to make sure she’s alright for our little Dami-kins

Stephaluffagus: Isn’t he on this chat?

Timtiminey: He’s had this muted for ages

Jason: YOU CAN DO THAT?!

Timtiminey: I mean, YOU can’t. I will turn it off for you

Jason: …….

Jason: Well you know it’d be a shame if I

Jason: @DamianWayne

Timtiminey: WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!

Damian: You’re dead Drake

DatAssTho: RIP

Stephaluffagus: He will be remembered

Jason: Prick.

“Get on already,” Damian said, exuding as much disinterested and grumpy energy as his body could manage.

Lucy skipped over to him, and looked at the seating arrangement on the Robin Cycle. “Hmm”, she said, “I don’t know if I’ll fit.” She climbed up to the back of the cycle only for her tutu to spring her backwards.

“What the hell is in that thing?” Damian asked, scowling. whatever had hit him was way more solid than fabric.

“Oh all sorts of things!” she said, “It’s my utilitutu!”

Damian really should have been used to this by now. “Your what.”

“Utility Tutu. I’ve got my balloon animals, my gas bouquet, my tamborine…”

“Well get rid of it or something,” Damian said, and was somehow surprised she did as was asked. Left in just a leotard, she hooked the tutu around her arm and jumped up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

Luckily, he was wearing his helmet, so no one could see him blush.

He revved up the motorcycle to try and drown out his thoughts. They’d been particularly loud ever since Tim said what he said...and, maybe since Lucy said what she said.

Were they dating? Is that what was happening? Lucy had called it a date, but Lucy was weird. It wasn’t like Damian understood how these things were supposed to work. This was super not in the training regime for the League of Assassins.

Did he...want it to be a date? He was even less sure. Lucy was...odd, but she had grown on him. She was the exact opposite of him, cheery where he was brooding, she was peaceful, he was violent. She was...kind and funny and playful. He was super not. they were both smart, but that seemed to be where the similarities ended.

And yet, it kinda worked. She was pretty, in a girly way, or at least thats what he could tell from under her makeup. He’d never been...really interested in girls or anyone. He didn’t know what it was supposed to feel like. If this was how it was supposed to feel like.

Well, he wasn’t going to be forced to be in a relationship with anyone. If she tried anything, he would tell her no, in no uncertain terms. Then he could get Tim and the others to shut up.

Once the decision was made, of course, he was left to ruminate for the remainder of the ride. He might have welcomed some of Lucy’s chatter, just to get his mind off things. Damn Bruce, not letting him use the batmobile…

Finally, a blur appeared beside him. “Need a lift?” Jon asked, rushing along beside him. Damian couldn’t help a smirk as he followed him through the city.

They came to a stop in an alleyway, though it didn’t hide much. “Whoa,” Jon said, eyebrows raised, “Hello, who’s this?”

Lucy stood on the top of the motorcycle, slipping her tutu back on and giving a deep curtsy, “Greetings! I am Commedia, The Dancing Delight, Columbina of Gotham and--”

“She’s Harley Quinn’s niece,” Damian said, cutting her off, “Lucy, Superboy, Superboy, Lucy.”

Lucy jumped down, eyebrow raised, “Now, come on. Surely you boys know how hard it is being defined by those who came before you.”

“Yeah, Robin,” Superboy said, holding out his hand for her to shake, “Honestly, no manners. Nice to meet you, Comme...Colum..um.”

“Lucy’s fine,” she said, “Aunt Harley said it’d be good for me to go and see some of Metropolis, maybe get some shopping done.”

Jon smiled, “Well, there’s plenty to do around here, and you picked the perfect tour guide! Come on, Mom and Dad are working today. I’ll show you around.”

Damian followed the pair of them around at a pace where you could just barely tell he was part of the same group. He was in his black outfit again, with sunglasses so that Lucy couldn’t tell who he was, and all of Metropolis wouldn’t know Robin wasn’t in Gotham.

Jon took them on the full tourist tour, going to see the many wonders of Metropolis. Though, a few stops Damian was pretty sure weren’t on the main route, like when they went to the top of the Daily Planet building. Other than that, though, it was a lot of pretty buildings, old buildings, the Superman memorial/dedication (they just left it up when Superman came back) and other sites that were considered important.

Damian sulked, having seen all these before and not finding them any more impressive than the first time or any time after that. What did surprise him was that Lucy didn’t seem any more impressed than him. He would have thought she’d go Gaga over the tourist trappings, considering she react to abandoned (allegedly) mines like a family at Disney World.

But she looked at each one, nodded in appreciation, and went onto the next thing.

Jon was kinda weirded out by it too, Damian could tell, not that Jon was ever subtle. He kept looking to Damian as if to try and explain her behavior, not that he was ever going to be doing that.

“Ok,” Jon said, as they sat outside the capitol, “Is there anything you WANT to see?”

Lucy shrugged, “To be honest, buildings don’t really interest me that much. But I’m glad to have gone with you, of course.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Damian said, “What’s the point of going around like this if you don’t even like it? We went around all damn day for YOU!”

Lucy tilted her head, “We went so that Superboy could show us things and we could get to know him.” She smiled at him, “You clearly admire Superman a lot, and you’re clearly like him. I’m glad you get along with your dad so well.”

Jon smiled, confused, but appreciative, “Thanks?” Damian grumbled. “But, I’d like to get to know YOU better as well. So if there’s something you like, the city has everything.”

Lucy hummed, “I honestly mostly just like to people watch in my free time.”

Jon beamed, “Oh man, I have the perfect place then.”

With a hop, skip, and a kryptonian-powered jump, the three of them were in the rafters of the Metropolis Subway station, looking down at everything and everyone as they went by. Damian was just glad they were inside, and being underground had him feeling a bit more at home.

Lucy practically sparkled, leaning way too far over to look at everyone. “What are they saying? Can you hear them?”

“Uh, which ones?” Jon said. She pointed aggressively. “Well, that one’s a family on vacation, the dad there is going over the itinerary, he’s got it printed out. The daughter there is trying to get him to skip the museums so they can get to the aquarium faster.”

“Ohh, what’s at the aquarium?” Lucy asked, kicking her feet like a child.

“Some fish, jelly fish are cool...Oh, they got a new shark there, I think.”

Damian groaned again, “Ugh, who CARES? If you wanted to go to the aquarium, then lets go to the aquarium! Instead of just watching someone TALK about it! These are all just normal people!”

“Robin, dude,” Jon said, “If it’s what she wants, why not? We are here for HER after all.”

That in of itself would have been enough to shame Damian, but Lucy was staring at him. She stared unblinking, and unsmiling. It was actually creepy. Like she was staring through him.

“Nobody’s normal.” She said, very seriously, her voice no longer taking on the cheery affectation. “Not a single one that I’ve ever met. Many of them TRY to be normal, but it is an illusion. A moving target, an ideal that doesn’t exist and people are shamed for not attempting to achieve.”

Damian could feel himself resist leaning away from her. “Uh, Lucy?” Jon said, “Something you want to talk about?”

Lucy blinked like she was remembering she was supposed to. “I suppose it is personal to me,” she said, “My…mother was always a little scared of Aunt Harley. First scared of her success, then scared of her villainous career. She always wanted to be normal. She wanted…me to be normal. She was scared of what I’d be. Who I’d be like.” She smiled, an echo of her previous smile, “It’s not quite the same as being a disciple for a great hero like Superman or Batman.”

Jon was suddenly looking very awkward. “Well,” He said, “I mean, having Harley Quinn as your aunt isn’t that bad. And you’re good anyway! So, no need to worry.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Lucy said, “It doesn’t matter if I was good or bad. It just matters that I was strange.” She tilts her head, looking down at the mass of people rushing back and forth. “Ever since I was little, people didn’t feel…real. They’re just. Stories. I couldn’t relate to my peers, as my teachers would say. I don’t know how to explain it. The only time I tried, my mom was so scared she sent me to a camp. One of those meant for bad kids to help them behave.” She tilted her head, “But they weren’t bad. They all had different stories. I realized there were no normal people. Just people with stories.”

Damian couldn’t have spoken if it was to yell for help. He stared at Lucy, trying to decide if he should be concerned or sympathetic.

Jon cleared his throat. “Well, I think you’re nice. And that’s what’s important. No problem with learning more about people and helping them.”

Lucy smiled, “Thank you.”

Jon’s head whipped to the side. “Ah, shoot, Dad’s calling me. I’ll be right back.” Lucy’s cheery attitude was back and she nodded, as Jon took off.

Lucy looked over at Damian for a moment. Damian felt he should say something. Apologize, maybe? He wasn’t sure what would be appropriate, and if it was appropriate, would Lucy want it. She worked on a whole other level, that was clear.

Lucy went back to watching people below her.

“My mom,” Damian started, not sure where he was going to end his sentence. Rule one of being in his family was to not reveal details about himself. But it was Lucy and she…she was his friend. “She was a…she’s a villain. I was supposed to be too. Maybe would have been if I didn’t go to live with Batman.”

Lucy nodded, “That sounds like a very interesting story,” Lucy said, “Thank you for telling me.” She tilted her head towards him. “Hey Robin, there’s this comedy place here in Metropolis I looked up. I was hoping maybe we could go tonight? I’m kind of a comedy nerd, and it’s always good to support people at an open mic. Maybe you’d even laugh once.”

Damian braced himself. This was a date. She was asking him on a date. He had prepared himself for this. “I can’t,” Damian said, the words practiced, “I don’t think of you that way. We can hang out and…be friends, but no.” There. No question about it.

Lucy looked at him, and tilted her head, thinking. “Ok,” She said, simply. Didn’t seem too heartbroken. It was a relief. “Hey Superboy,” She said, voice raise just slightly on the sounds of trains, “Do you want to go on a date to a comedy club tonight with me?”

There was a brief pause, then with a burst of wind, Jon jumped up back to the rafters. “Yeah, that sounds good,” and they shared smiles, “Robin, I can get her back to Gotham if you want to head home.”

Damian blinked, trying to process what exactly was happening. “I–,” technically, he wasn’t supposed to leave Lucy, for reasons Batman hadn’t been overly clear about. But if something was going to happen, she’d be plenty safe with Jon. Still, he wanted to argue this, even though he had nothing, and he knew he had nothing. “Sure, that sounds fine.”

Jon held out his hand to help him down, but he could easily get out by himself. And so, alone, he went home. And he didn’t understand the strange feeling in his gut.

Bruce stretched his neck coming down to the batcave, seeing Tim on the computer. “Commissioner Gordon has kindly invited Batman and Robin to the Wayne charity Christmas Party on my behalf,” he said, “I’ve got Dick coming down to wear the Batsuit for me. I’m going to work to have Damian as Robin, but would you and Steph take on patrols that night? At least some of us should actually be doing work.”

Tim didn’t answer. He stared blankly into the computer. Bruce sighed, most likely he didn’t hear him. “How long have you been down here? You’re going to ruin your–”

“Are you planning on telling Damian?” Tim asked.

Bruce paused and looked at what Tim was staring at. It was medical records of Delia Quinzel, specifically of her pregnancy.

Specifically the fake pregnancy records that Bruce had made. “What are you talking about?” Bruce asked.

“Please don’t insult me,” Tim said, face stoic, “You really think I can’t recognize your digital fingerprint all over these files?”

Bruce took a few deep breaths. “Have you told anyone?”

“Hell no,” Tim said, finally looking up, “And I cleaned up your mess. But I don’t know if anyone else has looked into this before now.” Tim glared at Bruce, “So I ask again, are you planning on telling Damian that you’ve put him in charge of protecting Joker’s biological daughter from her own father?”

Bruce came over and looked at the corrected records. They were, in fact, cleaner. Bruce’s were too normal. Tim added in complications that could have happened, just enough to make people think they’d already found what was wrong. “We don’t know what Joker knows.”

“Oh, and he just happened to escape Arkham and disappear at around the same time a teen starts hanging around his ex-girlfriend.” Tim said, dryly.

“If he does know,” Bruce said, “Then its our job to stop him. If he doesn’t, then we still stop him. But Lucy has a target on her back one way or another.”

“Which is why you put Damian in front of it?” Tim said.

“I trust Damien,” Bruce said, “To protect her. But I don’t want him to be biased against her because of her parents.”

“So, you’re putting him at risk, so that he can make friends?” Tim demanded, arms crossed.

Bruce took a deep sigh. “One day,” he said, “Lucy is going to have to confront where she’s come from. And the rest of us are too. I’m trying to give us all the best chance.” Bruce said, “Besides, Damian needs more friends other than Jon.”

Tim screwed up his face, then snorted. “Alright, old man,” he said, “I’ll go with your plan for now. But if something goes belly up, I reserve the right to at least one ‘I told you so.’”

“A fair compromise,” Bruce said, “What have you found about Joker’s movements?”

“He’s going quiet right now, which isn’t much like him,” Tim said, “But I think I’ve tied him to this fancy surgical robot that’s gone missing from Gotham Hospital.”

“Well, I’m sure there’s nothing mind-breakingly awful he can do with that,” Bruce said, sarcastically. “Let’s take it to the streets.”

Tim jumped up and followed him to the batmobile.

#lucy quinzel #damian wayne #bruce wayne #jon kent #DC comics fanfic #dc comics fanfiction

7 notes · View notes

gilmores-glorious-blog · 4 years

Text

5 times Klaus regretted wearing a skirt +1 time he didn’t

Considering he was a child soldier who heard the screams of the dead, being queer was not the strangest thing about Klaus Hargreeves by a long shot. Still, he wasn’t quite sure what to think when he started liking boys as well as girls (and everyone in-between) at age eight. Or when he realized he wasn’t quite a boy a year later.

He knew not to tell anyone. That was the last thing this family needed. Besides, Klaus already felt so isolated from his siblings, he knew being ‘the gay one’ wouldn’t help matters. So, he kept to himself, and occasionally he’d find ghosts who were nice enough to talk to about things. There was one ghost in particular who he enjoyed to talk about boys with- a blond soldier, who told Klaus that he was also gay.

Once when he was nine, Klaus met a ghost who looked like a woman, but talked like a man. They told Klaus they were what was called a drag queen. Klaus’ eyes lit up as the ghost talked to him of dressing up in skirts and makeup. He was so entranced by it all that he could nearly ignore the gruesome strangle marks and bruises around the ghost’s neck.

That night, while Allison was off in the attic with Luther, Klaus snuck into his sister’s room and picked out her nicest skirt. He ran back to his room and locked the door behind him, ignoring the dead around him.

Klaus looked in the mirror on the back of his door as he put the skirt on. Smiling, he twirled around a few times and watched the pink fabric spin with him. He liked this. It was loads better than the stupid outfits his dad made him wear.

He was so caught up in his happiness that he didn’t notice the door was opening until it hit him in the face.

“Klaus! Oh my gosh, are you okay?” He heard his sister’s voice from the ground he’d been knocked to.

“What are you wearing?” Luther’s voice this time, a little behind Allison.

Klaus sat up tentatively and wrapped his arms around his knees. “Nothing?”

Allison glared at him. “You stole my skirt!”

Klaus jumped up and took the skirt off, disappointed to remember how he looked with just jeans on. “I only borrowed it! For a bit!”

Allison said nothing, just snatched the skirt back from him and looked it over as if to make sure Klaus hadn’t ruined it for the two minutes he’d had it.

“Why’d you even want to wear that?” Luther asks. “You’re not a girl.”

Klaus knew his brother didn’t mean for the words to hurt, but they did. A lot.

He shrugged, not making eye contact. “Dunno. Wanted to see what I looked like.”

Luther just looked confused. Allison rolled her eyes. “You’re so weird, Klaus.”

They left his room, leaving the door open. Klaus could smell his father’s cigarette smoke coming up from downstairs, and for what wasn’t the first time, he wanted more of that smell.

It took three years, but Klaus finally got his sister to let him borrow her skirt. He hadn’t asked for a while after the last time because of how badly it had gone, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how he looked while wearing it. And how he felt while wearing it. Klaus wanted to feel like that more.

So he’d started to butter up Allison- mostly by letting her use him as a test subject for all her makeup. Klaus did genuinely enjoy that, though. It gave him more time with his sister, time he’d never had before, and on the rare occasions Allison didn’t screw up and leave him looking like a reject clown, he loved how it felt to wear makeup and have painted nails.

Klaus finally felt brave enough to make his skirt request one day when Allison had just finished painting his nails a dark blue.

“These match perfectly with that skirt of yours, Al.” He said, nodding toward the where said skirt was hanging in the open closet.

Allison gasped a little. “They do! You should put the skirt on!”

Klaus resisted the urge to pump his fist. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

Allison nodded eagerly, jumping off the bed to grab the skirt. “Of course!”

Klaus smiled, gladly taking the skirt from her and putting it on. It was long, meant to be floor length, and it nearly went down to his feet (he was a lot taller than Allison). The fabric was shiny and swishy and Klaus couldn’t stop twirling.

Allison clapped her hands suddenly. “Ooo! I just remembered something!” She grabbed her brother’s hand and started to drag him out of her room.

“What?” Klaus was curious, but wasn’t sure he wanted the rest of the family to see him in the skirt. Dad was in his office, though, and Klaus supposed everyone else would be fine with it. So he let his curiosity get the better of him.

“I think I’ve seen Mom wear heels that are the same color as the skirt!” Allison was leading Klaus’ towards their mother’s closet. He had to admit, heels sounded very exciting.

“They should be around here somewhere…” Allison muttered, tossing other shoes out of her way in search for this specific pair. “Oh! Here!”

She turned and presented her brother with a pair of stilettos that sure enough, matched his skirt and nails. Klaus grabbed them and put them on.

He promptly fell against the doorframe. “Shit!”

Allison laughed, taking hold of his arm and leading him out of the room. Slowly, Klaus sort of got the hang of walking.

“Christ, these are hard to move in!” He shakily let go of Allison’s arm, but he kept his own extended for balance.

“They’re not that bad once you get used to it. I borrow Mom’s heels all the time just to practice walking around in them.”

“Why in the world would you do that?”

Allison shrugged. “If I’m gonna be a famous movie star, I should know how to wear high heels.”

Klaus smirked. “Right, of course, how could I forget about your Hollywood plans.” He put on a high-pitched voice, “Look out world, I’m Allison Hargreeves!”

Allison slapped him, nearly causing him to fall again. “Just for that, I’m making you walk all the way downstairs to show Vanya your outfit.” She began to move down the staircase they had found themselves at the top of.

Klaus took this as a challenge. “Oh, you think I can’t go downstairs in these shoes? I bet you I can run downstairs in them.”

“Klaus, that doesn’t sound like a good idea-”

He ignored her and took off. “Vanya!” The more people around to watch him beat Allison at something, the better.

Surprisingly, Klaus made it almost halfway down before something went wrong. He saw that his shoe was caught in the skirt, but not in time to stop it.

“Klaus!” He heard Allison cry from above him as he crashed down the rest of the stairs, hearing the fabric of the skirt rip.

Jesus Christ, his mouth hurt.

Vanya and Allison reached him at the same time, and they worked together to pull him up from the floor.

“God, Klaus, you’re bleeding.”

Klaus spit out some blood and attempted to talk. “No shit.”

His brothers all came running, having heard the fall from where they were training. Ben immediately crouched in front of Klaus and examined him with concern.

“Dude, what did you do?!” Diego exclaimed.

Klaus tried to talk again, but it hurt too much. Allison answered for him. “He tripped while running down the stairs. Which I very clearly told him not to do…” She pointedly added, staring at Klaus, who spit blood at her and enjoyed watching her jump back with a shriek.

“I think you broke your jaw.” Five said with shockingly little sympathy in his voice. “I’m going to go get Mom, she’ll know how to help.”

“You know, you shouldn’t have worn those heels. Something like this was bound to happen.”

“Gee thanks, Luther, I hadn’t thought of that!” Klaus managed to speak. Damn, it hurt to be sarcastic.

“...Or the skirt.” Luther said, trying like always to get the last word in.

“Yeah, okay, I got it!” Klaus spat, raising his voice a little. It was the last he would speak for eight weeks, but at least Luther didn’t get the last word.

“Bennnnn!!!” Klaus hollered, knowing his brother was downstairs, but too high to be bothered to move.

He lay his head on his bed, waiting to see if Ben had heard him. Judging by the footsteps coming up the stairs and the annoyed mumbling, he had.

“What?” Ben said, opening the door. He clearly wasn’t in the mood for Klaus’ bullshit, but Klaus had his mind set on something and he needed his brother to do it.

“I…” Klaus sat up shakily, gesturing at himself with a flourish, “am going to come out to Dad.”

Ben’s eyes widened and he moved fully into the room, closing the door behind him. “You’re… you are? Really? Now? Are you sure?”

Klaus lit a cigarette. “Yeah! Why not?!”

“I can think of plenty of reasons why you shouldn’t, the most notable being our father isn’t exactly warm and cuddly, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Awww,” Klaus batted his eyes at Ben. “You’re so sweet. But I’m fine. The guy has hurt me enough, I can deal with a little more. Plus, he already hates me for the drugs and shit, so this can’t make things all that much worse.”

Ben bit his lip and looked nervously at his brother. “If you’re sure, there’s nothing I can do to stop you. But you have to be careful.”

Klaus put an arm around Ben. “I am fifteen, now, brother, and I have lots of money that I’ve acquired through all sorts of legal means. Plus, Pops still needs me for missions and publicity stuff. And we all know I’m the pretty one, so he can’t fuck me up too bad.”

Ben laughed a bit. “Right. You’re the pretty one.” He stood, ignoring his brother’s offended gasp.

“So. How are you gonna do it? Sit the whole family down for a chat?”

Klaus looked disgusted. “Hell no, that’s way too fancy. Plus I’m pretty sure everyone already knows, even though I’ve only officially told you and Diego so far. I’m probably just gonna dress up all feminine, go downstairs, and improvise.”

“As far as plans go, that’s about a three out of ten.” Ben remarked.

Klaus stood, throwing his extinguished cigarette aside. “Sounds good to me!”

Ben sighs. “What do you need me for? I mean, I’m glad you told me about this, but please tell me I’m not directly involved with your shitty plan.”

“I need you, brother dearest, to raid Allison’s room.”

Ben just stares at him. “No.”

“Come on! I gotta get femme stuff, and I haven’t bought any myself yet. And we both know Vanya doesn’t have any. I just need a skirt, a cute top, and some makeup.”

“And why can’t you acquire these things yourself?” Ben crosses his arms.

“Because she’s sick of me doing that, and she’ll get mad. But you’ve been elected Nicest Hargreeves, and she’ll never get pissed at you.”

Ben didn’t comment for a while, just stared at Klaus. Klaus thinks something about his whole sad, broken, victorian boy aesthetic must have convinced Ben, because the next thing his brother says is, “Fine.”

***

Half an hour later, Klaus is dressed in a sparkly pink skirt, a white crop top, and insane amounts of makeup.

“You look pretty.” Allison smiles. Ben ended up having to fill her in on what was happening, but she was more than supportive. She just wanted to make sure her brother didn’t ruin her clothes again.

“Thanks, Al.” Klaus did love how he looked, but he was too nervous to appreciate it fully. His high had worn off and now he has no idea what made him think this was a good idea in the first place.

“Alright, you ready?” Ben asks.

Klaus takes a deep breath. He looks at his brother and sister, smiling at him. His gaze sweeps over the corpses starting to reappear now that the drugs are wearing off.

He makes eye contact with one of them, one he hasn’t seen in years, since the first time he wore Allison’s skirt all those years ago.

The blond soldier smiles at him kindly, with what appear to be tears in his eyes. He says something that Klaus can’t quite hear from across the room, but it looks like he says ‘you’ve got this, soldier.’

“Number four!” Klaus hears Reginald call from the library. He flinches, but reminds himself that the disdain in his father’s voice has nothing to do with the way he’s dressed- not yet, anyway.

He turns and looks at where Ben and Allison are huddled at the foot of the staircase. Ben gives him a thumbs up and Klaus walks into the library.

“Yes?” Klaus responds, a cheeky tone in his voice that’s hopefully hiding the fear that’s hidden there.

Reginald turns to look at him, and Klaus nearly passes out in the seconds it takes for his father to scan him up and down.

“What on earth are you wearing!?”

Klaus does a little twirl, “a skirt. Among other things.” He thinks if he dissociates himself from the conversation and just lets his instinct take over, it won’t be quite as scary.

“You can’t be wearing that.” Reginald replies instantly.

“Why not? I think I look quite dashing.”

“You’re a boy! It makes you look very queer, and that’s the last thing your reputation needs.”

Klaus resists the urge to look at his siblings again for encouragement. This moment is entirely yours, Hargreeves. They can’t help you now.

“But I am! Queer, that is. Not quite a boy.”

Klaus feels a hand connect sharply with his face.

It would hurt more if that same hand hadn’t hurt him loads of times before.

His father is still talking, still yelling, still hitting him. Klaus ignores him. He wants out of this skirt.

When Reginald didn’t accompany his children on missions, there were a few things that changed. Diego didn’t stutter as much, for one. And Ben wasn’t forced to kill quite as many people. Allison’s rumors weren’t quite as harsh, and Luther didn’t hit the bad guys quite as hard. They still got the job done- they were The Umbrella Academy, and even though they were getting older, they had a reputation to maintain- but they weren’t nearly as violent without their father there, encouraging them to hurt more people.

As for Klaus, when he went on missions without dear old Dad, he wore and did whatever the fuck he wanted. He knew as well as all of his siblings that he wasn’t in any way helpful to missions unless somehow the job getting done required communication with ghosts. (And even if it did, Klaus would almost definitely be too drunk or high to talk to the dead.) So it had been unofficially decided that when Reggie let the kids do missions on their own, Klaus didn’t really do anything unless completely necessary, and they were all fine with that.

Klaus still enjoyed tagging along on missions, though. He knew damn well that he was still a fan favorite, so to say. He was inexplicably more charming than any of his brothers, so interviews were mostly comprised of him and Allison being endearing and the rest of the siblings standing there looking tough. Today’s mission, Klaus was feeling bold enough to wear a skirt- one that actually belonged to him this time! Allison had bought it for him at their last birthday, and though she claimed to only be doing it so he wouldn’t keep stealing hers, it was a very sweet gift and Klaus was excited to finally wear it during a mission.

The job was taking longer than it normally would, and Klaus was passing the time by making out with a very cute boy he saw watching him in the crowd. Klaus didn’t particularly want to hook up with his fans, but anyone that actually knew him was too repulsed by what they saw to want to be close to him, so he took what he could get.

Eventually his siblings finished whatever they’d been doing, and Klaus was interrupted by a smack on his back.

“Come on lover boy, we gotta go.” Diego said.

“Fine,” Klaus whined. He took a pen from the boy’s pocket and scrawled his number on his arm. “Call me.” He winked and let Diego drag him away while rolling his eyes.

It wasn’t until they got home that Klaus realized the consequences of what he’d been doing.

The moment they walked in the door, Vanya was waiting there to greet them- which was odd, usually she was holed up practicing her violin.

“Klaus!” She said, sounding panicked, grabbing her brother’s arm before he could walk past her like he was going to.

“Uh… hi Vanny?” Klaus was unclear on what was happening.

“Did you intend to come out on national tv?”

“I’m sorry, did I what?!”

“Come here!” Vanya kept a hold of Klaus’ arm and dragged him towards the nearest tv, the other siblings trailing behind them with concern.

Klaus had no idea what his sister was talking about. He was a bit scared, very confused, and also in no way surprised if Vanya was right and he had accidentally come out on national tv. That is one hundred percent on brand for Klaus Hargreeves.

Sure enough, when they got to the tv, a news reporter was talking over a blurry photo of Klaus kissing the boy from the mission. The headline at the bottom of the screen read Umbrella Academy’s Klaus Hargreeves Secretly Gay?

No one says anything for a minute as they all listen to the reporter talk. Finally, Klaus says, “I didn’t think I was keeping it a secret.”

Ben laughs weakly beside him. “Yeah, guess the public just has a terrible gaydar.”

“Dad’s gonna kill you.” Diego whispers, getting a grunt of agreement from Luther.

“Probably.” Klaus agrees, still staring at the screen where the reporter was now discussing/judging Klaus’ choice of clothing. “I feel bad for the kid, I hope they don’t identify him.”

“The kid?” Allison remarks from behind Klaus. “Jesus, Klaus, do you not even know the name of the guy?”

“Didn’t cross my mind to ask.” Klaus responds, ignoring the sounds of horror from his siblings. “Vanya, where’s Dad?”

Vanya jumped a bit at her name. “Uh, I think he’s in his office. Do you want me to get him, or…”

“Hell no!” Klaus scoffed. He did not want to face his father about this. They had just gotten to a point where Reginald wasn’t constantly murdering Klaus with his stare for the first time since Klaus came out to him. But his Dad was definitely not going to love this latest development, since he had made it very clear that he didn’t want the world to know that Klaus was pan and non-binary.

Klaus turned to leave, avoiding his siblings’ disappointed and judgmental looks. “I’m gonna go smoke.” He muttered.

Klaus tried to pretend he wasn’t bothered by what they were saying about him. And he did a pretty good job of it, at least in front of his family. But that night, alone in his room, he broke down. His father hadn’t come out of his office the rest of the day, and Klaus was terrified. He opened up his old laptop and went to the ‘trending’ section of the news. Among articles about some political debate and what type of lettuce was safe to eat, his face was scattered. He clicked on a handful of the articles.

Klaus Hargreeves rumored to be gay.

The Seance caught kissing a boy!

Sorry girls! Looks like national heartthrob Klaus Hargreeves isn’t one for women.

Number Four, the Seance, seen wearing a skirt.

Klaus rolled his eyes at some of the headlines. He really didn’t want to make any sort of public statement on this whole disaster, but he would very much like to clear things up and make it crystal clear that he is ‘one for women’, thank you very much.

Not all the articles are that bad. They’re all somewhat insensitive, considering they’re all making assumptions about Klaus based off of one blurry photo, but some are decently respectful. Of course, Klaus only focuses on the ones that aren’t.

One of the Umbrella Academy members found to be a queer.

Seems to me that a lot of people are no longer going to have a favorite member of the Umbrella Academy.

The Seance may be able to speak to the dead, but he can not pull off a skirt.

Klaus Hargreeves should stick to talking to ghosts from now on.

Klaus reads them all in his father’s voice.

Abruptly, he jumps of his bed and rips off his skirt, throwing it across the room. He lets out a cry of frustration.

Klaus spends the rest of the night doing dangerous amounts of drugs and drinking every last bit of alcohol he had stored in his room. The last thing he remembers seeing before he passes out is the ghost of the blond soldier watching him with concern from the corner of the room.

It took him 26 years, but Klaus Hargreeves was finally trying to pull his shit together. Well, more accurately- it took Ben Hargreeves 26 years to convince his brother to pull his shit together.

Klaus had woken up in the back room of some bar/drug den, mostly naked with random people laying next to him.

His brother stood above him offering a condescending hand to Klaus, since he knew Klaus couldn’t actually touch him.

“Hey there. Your head hurt?”

Klaus tried very hard not to rub his throbbing head, as to not prove Ben right. “Christ, don’t you ever go away? There’s no way I’m sober right now, so why the fuck are you still bothering me?”

Klaus knew why, and Ben knew he knew why. And somewhere, deep down, Klaus was glad Ben didn’t leave. He was glad there was always someone there when he hit rock bottom over and over again. But Ben was also really bloody annoying, always telling Klaus to ‘eat a vegetable’ or ‘take a shower’. Stupid stuff like that.

“Klaus, why do you do this?” Ben asked suddenly, as Klaus was stumbling up off the floor.

“Do what?”

“You know what. All of this. Drugs, booze, hooking up with random strangers and then never seeing them again, living on the streets, the list goes on and on.”

“Ben, are you really still asking me this? You’d think after twelve years of it, you would stop trying to get me to give up all my lovable quirks.”

“They’re not lovable quirks!” Ben snapped, even though he knew his brother was only joking and embellishing his words like always. “They’re… they’re terrible, awful things you do to yourself and I am the only person who’s stuck with you through it all because you’ve pushed away everyone else, and do you know how hard it is that you don’t listen to me? That I have to watch you live your life- something that I didn’t get to do- so dangerously, so irresponsibly, like you don’t even care whether you live or die!”

“Well, maybe I don’t!”

Ben’s face softened. “Klaus…” He took a deep breath and started again. “Klaus, I know it’s hard. I know our childhood was shit, and our dad was abusive as all hell, and the ghosts are unbearable. I know all that. But it could all be so much better if you tried a little bit. If you sobered up enough to get a job, so you could get money, so you could an apartment. Klaus, I don’t care if you buy the shittiest, most rundown apartment in the whole city- I will cry tears of joy if you have a place to live for once. Or... or you could do what Diego does! You could work for someone in exchange to live with them. Speaking of Diego, what about trying to live with him? You know he loves you like crazy, even though he doesn’t act like it. Talk to him, talk to Allison for god’s sake, she’s filthy rich and I’m sure she’d give you money. You don’t have to isolate yourself from your family! God, I don’t understand why you all pushed each other away! Do you know how much I would give to be alive with all of you right now?! Why don’t any of you appreciate this life that you have! Klaus, you have no fucking idea how terrible it is to be dead and watch the people you love throw away their life!”

Klaus didn’t know ghosts could cry.

He watched in horror as his brother curled up on the floor, wiping away tears. Ben looked so small, like he was as young as he was when he was alive. Klaus blinked and saw their father standing over Ben, yelling at him for not trying hard enough. He blinked again and saw an eight-year-old Ben, sobbing on the floor of a bank after murdering a group of people for the first time. He saw every other time he walked into Ben’s room and saw him doing that after a mission- too many times for Klaus to count.

“Okay.” He found himself saying.

Ben looked up at him, standing hesitantly. “Okay… what?”

“I’ll try to find a job.” Klaus meant it, shockingly. Ben was right, and he knew it. He didn’t like it, but he needed to do something to thank Ben for sticking with him.

The look on Ben’s face made it all worth it.

***

“Bennn why is finding a job so hard?”

“Klaus, we’ve been looking for thirty minutes. That’s nothing. And I still think we should go see Diego or Vanya or someone with a computer so you can research places to work, not just wander around until you find something.”

“No, no, nope. I am being nice and doing something for you, but I promise you that by the time this hangover wears off, I will have lost all motivation to do so. We gotta get me some paperwork or shit so I’ll be legally obligated to not back out of this.”

“When has the law ever stopped you?”

Klaus glared at his brother. “Giving up on this now…”

“You’re right, you’re right. I’m very proud of you. Let’s keep looking.” Ben reached out like he was going to pat Klaus’ shoulder, but stopped. Even after Ben being dead for nearly ten years, both brothers forgot sometimes that they couldn’t touch. Klaus would never admit it, but he would give anything to hug Ben again.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, the mood brought down by the cruel reminder of Ben’s death.

“Oh! Klaus!” Ben said suddenly, pointing at the window they were passing. Klaus followed his brother’s finger and saw the Help Wanted sign.

“Well that looks promising…” Klaus wandered over to see what the store was. “Goodwin Hardware… a hardware store? That’s so boring!”

“Come on, it’s the only place we’ve found. And at least there’s sharp objects you can play with!” Ben pleaded.

“Okay, calm down there Diego, I’m still going to check it out.” Klaus used the window as a mirror, adjusting his hair and overall trying to make himself a little less disheveled. He was wearing a blue button up and a silver skirt- both things he had found on the floor he woke up on, and he was pretty sure neither of them belonged to him the night before.

Klaus walked into the store, the jingle of the bell on the door nearly as loud as Ben’s gasp of excitement.

“Can I help ‘ya?” A gruff voice barked from the front counter. Klaus followed the voice to see an old white guy look up from the fishing magazine he’d been reading. Figures, Klaus thought- it was a hardware store after all, but Klaus had been hoping it was one of those cool, lesbian-owned hardware stores.

Klaus felt himself freeze up, seeing just a little too much of his father in the man’s face, but Ben whispered encouragement from behind him, and together they walked to the counter.

“Hi, yes, I was wondering about your help wanted sign? You see, I’ve recently decided to acquire a job, and this looks like a lovely place-”

“No.” The man said, returning to his magazine like the conversation was over.

“...No?” Klaus repeated.

“I don’t hire queers,” The guy glanced up again and gave Klaus a look like it should have been obvious what he was talking about.

Oh.

Klaus heard Ben mutter his name from behind him, the same disappointed tone in his voice that Klaus was used to hearing.

“Well, sir, I don’t think being gay hinders my ability to shelf tools.” Klaus bit his lip as he spoke, trying his hardest to remain polite. Do it for Ben, do it for Ben, do it for Ben-

“Listen, sissy, I told you the answer’s no. Now get out of my shop.”

Okay that was it. Klaus reached across the counter and tore the magazine from the man’s hands, throwing it behind him.

“You’re going to give me this fucking job!” Klaus hissed. He ignored the fact that Ben was telling him to stop, telling him that they would just find another opportunity.

The man grabbed Klaus by the collar and pulled him close, scraping him across the wood of the counter. Klaus flinched, being reminded once again of his dad.

“No, ‘m not. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get out of my store before I have to tell you a third time.”

Klaus spit in the man’s eye. A fist met his face.

He woke up in what had lovingly been dubbed “his” prison cell.

“God, my head…” He rubbed at his face, feeling a lump from where the man had hit him.

“Oh. You’re awake.” Ben said from across the room.

Klaus remembered all that had happened. (Although why he went to jail when he was the one who’d gotten hit, he wasn’t sure. Probably had something to do with the fact that his cop-in-training brother used arresting Klaus as an excuse to check up on him.)

“Ben, I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to make this into a whole thing-”

“But you did! You egged that guy on when we could have just left and kept looking! Jesus, Klaus do you ever know when to stop?!” Ben rubbed his eyes and turned away from Klaus, making it clear the conversation was over and Klaus was left with a bitch of a hypothetical question.

He picked at the fraying silver of his (not his) skirt. He closed his eyes and saw a tv headline, saw his father’s hand hitting him, saw the floor fall out beneath him, saw his brother and sister’s judgmental faces.

Maybe he should stop wearing skirts.

+1.

Klaus had made a promise to himself that he would stop wearing skirts. Nothing good happened when he did. The only time he’d broken that promise since the hardware store incident was at his father’s funeral- sort of as a final fuck-you to Reginald. And hey, things couldn’t get any worse, right? At least that’s what he thought until his baby brother showed up, rambling about doomsday.

But, Klaus had made that promise in 2016. And this was 1968. So technically, Klaus hadn’t made the promise yet. Besides, this skirt was really cute.

So Klaus bought it, bullshiting some excuse about buying it to send to his little sister back home (as if Vanya would ever wear this), because as nice as the Saigon residents were, he wasn’t about to tell them he was a gay soldier sneaking away from camp with another gay soldier.

He and Dave weren’t fully sneaking around, exactly. Everyone in their unit had a break this weekend, it’s just that most of them weren’t in Saigon. Klaus wasn’t sure where they were exactly, but he knew that he and Dave weren’t in risk of being seen by anyone they knew. So they only had to worry the normal amount about being gay in the 60s! Yay!

Klaus sat waiting outside their motel room, because Dave was a sap and wanted to pretend like he was picking Klaus up for their date, even though they were staying in the same space. Not that Klaus minded- he loved that Dave was such a romantic. It was just one of the many, many things that made him different- and better- than any partners Klaus had before.

It felt wrong, comparing Dave to other partners. They weren’t even on the same plane as him. Klaus had never been with someone because he cared about them before. He’d never really been with someone at all, actually. Three weeks didn’t exactly count as a long-term relationship, especially when he was only doing it for a place to sleep. The point was, Dave was different. Dave was special. Klaus knew it from the moment he saw him. Something about him looked familiar, like Klaus had known him before in a different time.

It wasn’t like Klaus was planning on staying in the middle of a war that happened twenty years before he was even born, but he didn’t exactly have a reason to go back to 2019, either. And he realized about an hour into his time in Vietnam that he did have a reason to stay there- a blond, hot, blue-eyed, Jewish reason, to be exact. And look, it happened to work out well for Klaus (surprisingly, since things so rarely did) when a month later he learned that his reason for staying wanted him too.

Klaus was so lost in thought that he almost forgot how boring it was waiting for Dave. ...Almost.

“Hey!” He stood, rapping on the motel door. “Hurry up!” Klaus didn’t care if Dave wasn’t ready to go out yet- in fact, it was probably more fun that way.

“God, Hargreeves, don’t you have any patience?!” Dave’s voice came all the way from the far side of the room, but Klaus could still hear the affectionate tone it carried. Dave only called Klaus by his last name when he was doing so in a teasing manner. Klaus called Dave by his a lot more, ever since he learned that David Katz was allergic to cats, and he never let him live it down.

“Nope! None at all. Now c’mon, or I’m just gonna leave without you.” He wouldn’t, obviously, and Dave knew it too.

Klaus heard footsteps on the other side of the door and he had a brief moment of panic about what he was wearing. Shit, why did he break his promise? Dave had seemed fine up until now about Klaus’ gender expression and the way he dressed or wore makeup or acted feminine, but what if he really wasn’t? Klaus knew it was already hard for Dave to be comfortable in his sexuality, and he didn’t want to be the reason Dave retreated back into the closet. The last thing this tentative gay soldier needed was a reminder of just how queer the man he was dating is. Klaus very nearly tore the skirt off, even though he wasn’t wearing anything underneath it, but the door opened before he could make that very stupid decision.

He froze as Dave, wearing the same button-up he’d worn the first time they’d kissed and a new pair of pants he must have bought that afternoon, quickly gave Klaus a once-over. They made eye contact and Klaus instantly relaxed upon seeing the fondness in Dave’s eyes.

“You look beautiful.” Dave smiled.

Klaus entered the room, shutting the door behind him with one hand as he held Dave’s face in the other. He kissed him, smiling wide against Dave’s lips.

“What was that?” Dave asked when Klaus pulled away.

“A kiss, you idiot.”

“No shit, Klaus, I just didn’t know why you did it.”

“I did it because you complimented me and I am desperate for validation. Don’t flatter yourself or anything, I kiss everyone who says I look nice.”

Dave laughed, “you better not.” He was the one to kiss Klaus this time, pushing him against the door.

“Hey.” Klaus held onto Dave’s shoulders and moved him far enough away that he could lock eyes with him. “I love you.”

Dave didn’t hesitate, didn’t flinch away or act disgusted, even though it was the first time Klaus had said it and he had been sure the response would be negative.

“I love you too, Klaus.”

#ahhHHHHHH I FINALLY FINISHED THIS #i hope y'all like it i got very carried away with it #also if you notice the tense inconsistencies #... no you don't #klaus x dave #klaus hargreeves x dave katz #klaus hargreeves #the umbrella academy #tua #tua fic #the umbrella academy fanfiction #klaus x dave fic #eli.writes

59 notes · View notes

prairiesongserial · 4 years

Text

13.3

The Good Guys stayed back, lingering around the borders of the road as the carnies slowly unloaded themselves from the trucks in the caravan and congealed into one group. Cody stuck close to John - and to Val, for a moment, until Val disappeared suddenly into the crowd to look for Friday. It was probably better to spread out, anyway, Cody thought. The Good Guys would have more trouble finding them if they weren’t all together.

He pulled John gently by the hand to the back of the group, hoping to stay unseen for as long as possible. Ezra and Johannes were arguing - both between themselves and with the red-head who appeared to be leading the Good Guys. The raised voices had drawn the attention of most everyone, circus and gang.. Cody’s mind was too focused on other things to make out what they were saying. It probably didn’t matter - the Good Guys were going to search the caravan no matter what.

“The circus won’t protect us,” he told John, keeping his voice low.

John frowned, his brow furrowing.

“You think they’ll take us,” he said, nodding towards the Good Guys. “To Hemisphere.”

“Johannes isn’t going to make a stupid last stand over four wanted posters,” Cody hissed. “Better to give us up than let everyone else get shot, right? Any gang leader’d do it.”

“Not any,” John said, somewhat pointedly.

Cody suppressed a grimace. John was right - Ethan would never have let him go so easily. Would have risked the lives of every other Dead-Eye to keep him, too. The image of Ethan lying prone in the tall grass, blood soaking the soil beneath him, rose unbidden to the top of Cody’s mind, and he shook his head to clear it. This wasn’t like the confrontation at the river; he didn’t have to think about that. This was like what had happened in Old Problem.

Just like Old Problem. Cody blinked, feeling as if a veil had been lifted away from his memories. Trapped in the middle of a valley, in a handoff between two gangs he couldn’t trust, the situation was almost identical. Except for one thing. Cody saw the difference in the situation, saw the play that he could make to change the course of things. He’d thought to himself that the Good Guys reminded him of the Dead-Eyes, but they weren’t the Dead-Eyes at all. Not in the one way that mattered.

“Okay,” he muttered. “Okay, I have a plan.”

John looked at him quizzically, head tilted slightly to one side. Cody shook his own head, pressing his lips together. He couldn’t say it out loud. The plan felt too ridiculous to work, almost, and he knew that John would try to talk him out of it, which they didn’t have time for.

“I need to find something,” he said.

“I’ll go with you,” John said immediately, but Cody was already letting go of his hand.

“Stay here,” he told John. “Or find Val. I have to go by myself.”

Cody stepped back into the crowd and did his best to lose himself in it before John could protest. It didn’t keep him from seeing the frown that pulled at the corners of John’s mouth in the last moment before Cody ducked away between two carnies. He felt guilty, elbowing his way through the throng, but knowing John wouldn’t be at risk if this plan went south was a weight off his shoulders. If nothing else, it would give John, Val, and Friday the cover they needed to slip away from the circus and the Good Guys and into the mountains.

The carnies who were performers were easy to pick out of a crowd, and Cody’s eyes jumped from one to the next until he finally found the two that he wanted. They were twins, stocky with the muscles of athletes, both wearing white jackets striped with rows of black sequins. Cody had seen them around the caravan, but he didn’t know their names. He did know that they were contortionists - and more importantly, clowns. Each of their eyes was made up to be covered by a thick black diamond, each of their cheeks over-rouged and marked with a black dot. The other carnies didn’t put full faces of makeup on to travel. It was strange, but Cody had been hoping to find someone in face paint, so he wasn’t about to judge.

Cody came to a stop in front of them, and the two contortionists looked at him as though he was something they had found on the bottom of their shoes.

“They’re looking for you,” the one on the left said, eyes flicking towards the Good Guys, whose leader was still arguing with Ezra and Johannes.

“I know,” Cody said curtly. He might have been friendlier if he’d had the time, but he could feel it slipping between his fingers every moment he wasted standing here. “I need your makeup.”

“What, for a disguise?” the other twin asked. Their eyes swept over Cody’s face, thin eyebrows arched. “You’ll need a lot more for that.”

“Not a disguise,” Cody said. He wished he had bothered to learn the twins’ names. He would have to remember to do that, if he lived through this. “I just need it. Please.”

The twins shared a glance between themselves. Cody had heard from the Dead-Eyes, growing up, that twins could read each other's' minds. He’d always thought it was bullshit. But Angie and Jodie had been twins, and they’d always had a supernatural sense for what the other one was up to. And now Angie was dead - or Jodie was. One of them had gotten shot at Old Problem. Cody didn’t remember which.

“Okay,” one of the contortionists said, and fished two small, flat containers from their jacket pocket.

Cody reached for them, hand hovering over the containers. “I just need the black one.”

The contortionist shifted the containers in their hand so one was on top. “Bring it back when you’re done.”

“I won’t take it anywhere,” Cody said.

He wasn’t lying. He twisted the makeup container open in front of the twins, and dipped the four fingers of his good hand into it, coating them in black paint. Cody stared down at his hand for a long moment, watching the paint seep into the creases of his joints. His stomach twisted. This was a bad idea - but what other choice did he have? He took a deep breath and held it, then closed his eyes and smeared the paint across them. It was cold on his skin, like he’d submerged his face in water.

“Thanks,” he told the contortionists, when he opened his eyes again. He handed the makeup back to them, and wiped his dirty hand off on his jeans. Only one thing left to do.

The argument at the front of the crowd had quieted by the time Cody squeezed and elbowed his way to the front. Johannes and the red-headed Good Guy were still talking heatedly, but their voices were much lower, like they didn’t want to be overheard. Ezra hovered around them, and was the first to see Cody. His eyes narrowed.

“Cody,” he hissed.

“Parley,” Cody said, loudly.

Johannes whipped around. His gaze scanned over Cody, then held on Cody’s face, eyes wide. He held a hand up to the leader of the Good Guys, as if that could stop what Cody had just set into motion, and chuckled nervously.

“Now, let’s not -” Johannes began.

“I want to parley,” Cody said, firm and even louder than before. He had the Good Guys’ attention now. The red-headed one looked at him, surprise plain on their face, lips twitching upwards in a bemused sort of grin.

“Who are you?” they asked.

“I’m Cody Allison,” he said. He knew Hemisphere’s rules, knew the rules the Dead-Eyes swore by. He had witnessed Ethan kill Edie and take her place when they were just kids. Cody swallowed, and planted his feet on the dusty road, arms folded over his chest. “I killed Ethan Rouse, and that makes me the leader of the Dead-Eyes by right. And I want to parley.”

13.2 || 13.4

#story

6 notes · View notes

spiiderwiick · 4 years

Text

If You Give A Clown A Rules Class

Well. They signed up for this. This is their fault and their fault only.

Wick sent off a text message to Patches. They had driven themselves to the park bright and early to prepare for this. Part of them expected her not to show, that it was all some act and she was going to just ghost them.

Instead their phone started to spew black goop from it and they dropped it in surprise. Ugh. There went their phone screen, they realized. God fucking damnit.

“why can’t you be normal for once in your fucking life.” They groaned.

The goop bubbled in response as Patches finished pulling herself through in the least normal way possible. Once reformed, she straightened up to loom above them, “You really should expect this from me. You’ve known me for a year, longer than anyone else has ever had the great misfortune to know me.”

“i know and i hate you.”

“It’s mutual.”

Somehow they didn’t think that was entirely true. Not after the last month, especially not after the night before.

“let’s just. get this over with.” Teaching a clown how to be a good polite little haunter was not something they ever thought they’d do, “i don’t think i need to give you much on like. how to scare people. you know setup and scare, you know the types of scares that work best for you. boo and help me are off limits. even if i know that if anyone could make boo scary, it would be you.”

“Yes.” Patches grinned toothily at that. Too many teeth for her got dang face.

“ugh. you need to keep arm’s length away from the patrons. i don’t particularly care if you get punched in the face for getting too close, but i do care if someone punches you in the face and manages to stab themselves on your of your five-thousand teeth.” Wick continued, they couldn’t even remember half their usual rules right now, there was too much going on, “and uh.... no. swears. but you don’t do that anyway, do you? um... personal attacks against patrons is off-limits. you can talk shit about whatever costume they’re wearing but not about them. but i think you can be more creative than that anyway.”

“Keep trying to appeal to my competitive nature, see what happens.” Fuck around and find out.

Wick rolled their eyes at her, “there are prizes for actors who do a really good job each night. sometimes it’s sweets. but you’d have to really stick to the rules for that.”

“I can’t be bought with sweets.” Patches replied flatly.

Wick knew that to be a lie, but didn’t comment on it, “i’m going to need to you stay wherever you are assigned. the entire time.”

Ah. Patches didn’t look so amused by that, “And where would that be?”

“i don’t know yet.” They admitted, “i was thinking the field, cause you’d have trees and a big area to play in. but i don’t know if the horses would be too scared of you. they’re brave, but you’re. you.”

“Very eloquent.”

“shut up i’m trying here. so could you.” Wick narrowed their eyes and glared up at her, “i thought about putting you in the clown hospital because you’re you, but that might be a little crowded for you to really stretch out and do fucked up monster shit.”

Patches took a moment to consider her options. She knew the show quite well, thanks to all her snooping. Most of her shenanigans had been on the main trail at the start of the show, she knew there weren’t cameras on majority of it. The field was a good option, but so was the graveyard near the end of the show, before the picnic pavilion. There were still trees there, though no actual cover to disappear into. Reluctant as she was to admit it, they may have picked the best option right off the bat, “I don’t know, horses are capable of evil, I’m sure we’d get along.”

What a fucking statement.

“that’s. you know what. okay. we’ll put you there. give the horses some space in case they’re scared of you though. you can be some fucked up monster that’s terrorizing the ghost town if you need to stay all the way away from them.” Wick groaned faintly. They were so sure this was going to become a disaster, even with the planning and fail safes.

“oh!” Fuck, they nearly forgot one of the other most important rules. They wave their hands in a back off gesture, “if you see anyone doing this. back off. it means someone is terrified to the point of it being a problem. i don’t care if it’s a kid or an adult. you see someone do that, you back the fuck off. okay?”

That earned another eye roll from Patches, “Whatever.”

“no. not whatever. you are not going to ruin the show or leave someone so traumatized they never come back. you know we can remove you now if we need to. maybe benrey’ll put you to sleep again for a few hours if you won’t cooperate.”

Oh. That was a threat. Normally she’d be proud of them for it, but the metaphorical wounds were a little too fresh still. Her eye narrowed at them, “Big talk for such a small spider. He can’t protect you forever.”

The temptation to call her out for her apparent inability to harm them was immense. Still, they didn’t want to push their luck. There was always a chance she’d get angry enough to push through it and do something she may or may not regret later. To them, deflection seemed like the best tactic, “this isn’t even about me. this is about you not ruining everything we’ve built. about us getting to keep the show alive. us not getting canned because some idiot decided to let the murder clown be a part of the show as a halloween treat.”

“You’re the idiot who made that decision.”

“i know i’m the idiot who made that decision. i’m just asking you not to make me regret it. that’s all. behave for one night. please.”

“Fine.” Getting Patches to agree to anything was like pulling teeth. Getting her to keep her word was another beast entirely, Wick knew, “Anything else I should know? Or are we done here?”

“well... i need you to stay in-set the whole time. you’ll go out there with the rest of the actors, and come back in at the end of the night with everyone else.” Their eyes dropped to the ground for a moment, “uhh... first hour of the show is family hour. it’s halloween, so a lot of families might be doing the trick or treating thing instead of coming to the haunt, so the first hour might be slow. you can.. act with your set-mates. keep each other entertained. just. go easy on them. there’s usually younger folks in that set. we don’t want our volunteers to be too scared to come back next year either.”

Patches let out an irritated huff, “So you picked the worst night, huh?”

“i picked the only night left.” Wick groaned again. Why was she so insufferable? No... They can save this, “halloween is the best night anyway. we get to go totally off the shits. crank up the volume, spin a big ol’ roulette wheel for what costume goes to what set. hell. if we’ve got enough clown costumes. we could make all of our ghost cowboys into your little yeehaw ghost clown minions.”

It was a good save, it even got an amused chuckle out of the alpha clown, “I’m listening.”

Oh god. “well. i’ll have to run it by casting.. and wardrobe..... and makeup. and ask anyone who pre-cast for the field but... it’s certainly doable. especially as light on actors as we usually are on halloween.”

Patches seemed pleased at the idea of lording over a bunch of tiny clowns. This was progress. Wick even managed a small grin up at her, “only other thing i can think of right now.. is please don’t tear up the lawn. or the trees. or any part of the park or the sets. the horses are on thin ice as it is for all the hoofprints, if there’s giant clown claw marks all over everything, they’ll kick us out for sure.”

“And you’ll be keeping an eye on me, I presume?”

“we’ve got cameras on the field, so yeah. ‘n benrey’ll be keeping a few eyes on you too.” Not ideal by the way the clown grimaced in response. Alright, “hey, do weird enough shit and maybe they’ll snag some of the security footage for our yearly video.”

“Careful what you ask for.”

“oh don’t worry, i’m regretting this already.”

“Good.”

This was going to be an interesting night.

#drabble #f2f #jpstandsforjustpatches

8 notes · View notes

darknessisafriend · 5 years

Note

Reader is student who on a good day receives lots of candy and shares one with Carnival. When Arthur as Joker has shot Murray and escapes, he spots the same student among the crowd, trying to escape the rioting going on around her. He goes after her and avoids being captured again. Instead, he follows student to her apartment. (I am all up for dubcon smut, but might as well end in sweet fluff)

Ok I didn’t planned it to be fluff but it turned so soft like I was cryin’ and melting at the same time!!!! I hope you’ll like it ^^

Sweets

You were used to see him you see him every day doing his gig when you come back from college, you never really stopped but you always slowed down, you liked his dynamism, he was always smiling. And you didn’t dare to admit it out loud, but you had a little crush on him, maybe you were just into clowns, who knows…more seriously he had some serious moves, always dancing on the rhythm of the man playing piano, and he had gorgeous eyes, you’d love to be closer to memorize their details, but you never dared. After all you were just a student, the guy had a job and was probably 10 years older than you or more, so either he would never be interested in you or he’s already taken.

One day you had received lots of sweets in class, you had this cool professor who always distributed sweets to the whole class before Christmas holidays. And yeah you were finally in holidays, you were super excited to sleep and do nothing, literally. As you took your usual path to home, you reached the place where the clown performed, you had learned that his name was Carnival when one day a little kid had interacted with him. And this time you stopped to watch him, you stayed a bit far so he would not see you. At some point he stopped he was probably finished, he went to the side in your direction actually ‘oh shit did he see me?’ but apparently, he didn’t, he leans against the wall not far from you, taking out of his pocket a pack of cigarette, he brought one to his lips, lighting it, he took a long drag, he looked exhausted.

He turned his head, his eyes landing on you, and oh gosh they were gorgeous, this light green was something you had rarely seen, so deep and attractive… that’s when you realized you had been staring at him the whole time, you opened and closed your mouth several times before muttering “sorry” he continued to look at you a small smile forming on his lips. You didn’t know what to say, if you had the money you would have given him a tip for his hard work; you suddenly remembered you had a whole bag of sweets, it was better than nothing you thought. So you quickly reached for it in your backpack, took a nice handful of them, and took a few steps towards him, a kind smile on your lips and offered him your hand full of sweets.

“Want some?” you asked him. You could tell he was honestly surprised by your gesture and looked at you for a bit, then he nodded taking only one candy.

“Thank you…” he smiled, he unwrapped it and put it in his mouth, briefly closing his eyes at the taste of the sweet. You blushed, happy to brighten his day. But now it was time for you to go, let’s not bother the man any longer.

“I should go…have a nice evening Carnival.” You said in a sympathetic tone, giving him a bright smile as you left to go home.

What you didn’t see is that the clown eyes were following you, he had pushed himself from the wall, he had wanted to ask for your name and maybe even get a coffee together, but he never dared to catch you…

As days and weeks passed you never saw Carnival again, even though you passed in the same street every day. Maybe he was working in another place, but you missed his presence, his dancing was the ray of sunshine in your day. At some point you just avoided to go out, because of the things happening, the murder of these Wall Street guys which you didn’t really care about because people were dying every day, especially the poor, disabled or even students like you and nobody ever mentions their names. What worried you the most were the riots, of course people needed to be heard, but the chaos and insecurity these riots were generating was scaring you.

And with time it only got worse, especially tonight, you went to the supermarket, and suddenly outside it was chaos, people started to come in the shop, breaking the windows and stealing. You quickly escaped the shop, and, in the streets, cars were on fire, people screaming and chanting slogans, the police was clearly outnumbered. You looked around trying to find the best way to get home safely. You decided the walk fast home, not look at anyone, just walk fast. As you past by a an electronic shop, from the corner of your eyes you saw a TV broadcasting Murray Franklin Show, you never watched this but some friends of yours had told you about it, apparently, they had showed the video of a guy doing stand up comedy but having some sort of nervous laughter attack; you didn’t get what was so funny about this, you briefly stopped at the title of the news ‘Murray shot dead on live show by a clown’ you frowned at this, ‘was this guy some sort of symbol of the riots out there?’

A loud noise made you jumped and yelp in surprise, it seems a car crash had happened, you hoped the people in there were okay…but now something more important was in your mind than check, get out of this mess alive. You started to walk again but you were a bit lost, the chaos and destruction had completely changed your surroundings, you looked around trying to distinguish something familiar. You were panting, ‘what if I couldn’t go home?’ you started to think panicked. You closed your eyes trying to focus on calming your breathing, it was the only way you were able to think. When you succeeded, you opened your eyes and finally recognized where you were, nothing will stop you, you will go home safely no matter what.

Joker’s side

Fog…fog everywhere…everything hurts…there’s noise all around him, what’ s going on? He wonders, the noise grows stronger making his whole-body tremble. Suddenly, a rough cough erupts from his chest, he can’t contain it, as he coughs, the back of his head hits something metallic, increasing his headache, he feels warm liquid on his lips, the taste like iron. When he finally open his eyes all he sees are people, people gathered around him, lights everywhere in the night, they are wearing clown masks, he hears them calling his name, his stage name ‘Joker’. He wonders what’s happening why people are calling his name? suddenly everything rushes back to his mind, his mother, Murray, how he got arrested until he lost consciousness. He painfully gets up to look around, he sees the police car he was in, collided by an ambulance, how ironic…

But people are cheering for him, he can’t believe it, they’re finally seeing him, they love him…he wants to see if it’s really happening, so he poses and then starts dancing on top of this police car, he spins and people cheer even more, yes, he’s loved, finally…he feels tears prickling in his eyes…

He feels more blood in his mouth, his blood, crimson red just like his paint, slowly he puts his fingers in his mouth, gathering blood on it, and traces up from the corner of his lips to his cheekbones, forming a smile because he is happy now, it only costed him everything and to kill his own mind, now he’s happy, he can’t help but laugh.

Suddenly he hears sirens coming closer, he has to get out here, he won’t be caught again, not now that he’s free. His eyes are searching the crown looking for a path where he could escape, unnoticed. He gets off the car, and pushes through the people, now some of them are running away, other running towards the police to fight them.

As his eyes look for a way to go, he spots a young woman, who’s apparently looking to go away too, her clothes, her hair somehow looks familiar to him, he squints his eyes to try to recognize her, when finally she look the crowd, he remembers, the sweets girl! He thinks quickly, you’re the only way for him to hide, when you will recognize him, you will help him! He’s sure of it!

He starts to run after you, but then he realize that you might have heard of the murders and Murray…what if you’re scared of him or repulsed and doesn’t want to talk to him? To this thought he slows down. He’s going to follow you, to your place, and away from the cops, he will try to talk to you, explain everything and you’ll understand.

Your POV

You were getting away from the riots easier than you thought, the streets were empty, most people in the main avenue. You were almost home, you sighed in relief, but you suddenly turned to look if someone had followed you; everything was empty apart from rats in the trash bags, everything was silent apart from the muffled roar of the riots. For some reason you thought that someone was following you, you shook your head a continued your way home. You were living on the first floor of a small building, mostly occupied by students which meant it could get pretty noisy at night especially week ends, but other than that it was safe, it’s all that mattered. You finally entered the building and walked straight to your door, your searched for your keys and paused, you swear you’d heard something, so you just don’t move and do as less noise as possible, listening for anything, that’s when you heard it again, it was someone breathing behind you! You jumped and turned, you’re back hitting your door, you yelped in anticipation, squeezing your eyes shut briefly seeing the shape of someone.

But nothing came, your heart was beating so fast that it was the only thing you could hear.

“I’m…I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to scare you…” the voice said, it’s tone strangely apologetic and soft. Slowly you opened your eyes, trying to calm down your breathing. Your eyes landed on a man wearing colorful costume and a clown makeup, it reminded you of something, you opened wide your eyes as your remembered that you had seen him on TV, the killer.

“What do you want?” you shivered, looking at your feet ‘please don’t hurt me’. The man took a deep breath, and shuffle like he was unsure.

“It’s me…Carnival…” he lamented, his sad tone struck you, until you processed what he had just said, ‘Carnival as in the happy clown down the street?’ you finally looked up to meet his eyes, you instantly recognized them, those beautiful green eyes, they were wet and there’s was glow of hope in them. You realize he was probably looking for your help.

“But…you killed someone.” You replied disappointed by what he had done. He nodded not trying to hide it from you, you realized he had a big gash on his forehead still bleeding.

“I did but he deserved it, you’ve seen what he did to me right?” he asked, his voice surer, showing he didn’t regret it.

“No, I…” you admitted confused.

“Then please just let me explain…” he pleaded, almost reaching out to touch you, but he refrained when he saw you flinch. You passed a trembling hand on your forehead, you didn’t know what to do, even in this moment he looked pure and nice just like the Carnival you used to watch, but you couldn’t help but think he might hurt you too. He seemed to understand what was going through your mind.

“I won’t hurt you, I don’t want to hurt you…I need your help.” He added, lifting his hands in sign of peace. Suddenly on your left you heard the noise of someone opening its door, without thinking you quickly opened yours and shoved Carnival inside, as you were entering the voice of your neighbor called you.

“Y/N is everything alright? I heard screaming” he asked.

“Oh yeah, yeah…it’s just my boyfriend he surprised me and with what’s happening outside I’m a bit jumpy that’s all.” You jabbered, scratching the back of your head, giving him a small smile.

“Oh ok then…goodnight.” He wished you, you quickly closed your door, sighing in relief and looked for the clown. He was watching you curiously, with some sort of admiration, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Your boyfriend?” he hinted, teasing. You retained a laugh and rolled your eyes.

“Seriously?” you replied, slightly amused that it’s the only thing bothering him. You put your bags on the counter and took off your coat always facing him just in case he tried something. He looked around you small studio, slightly fidgeting his hands. You watched him, apart from the blood he looked perfectly normal, what exactly happened?

“Oh my name’s Arthur.” He told you, walking towards you, extending his hand to you. You looked at it for a moment then took it.

“Y/N” you replied. He nodded, and repeated your name, softly chuckling.

“So care to tell me what happened?” you asked him, you were curious but also afraid to discover that you let some sort of psychopath in your studio. He sat on your chair, he seemed to feel a bit weak, probably due to his wounds. Then he started from the beginning, his life, his condition, how people treated him like a freak, then the murder of the 3 guys in the subway. However this time you weren’t scared because you understood that he simply defended himself and knew he would be sent to prison because he wouldn’t be able to get a good attorney. Then he told you about this Murray mocking him.

“So it was you on the video?” you asked pained to imagine what he went through, he nodded “Have you seen it?” he asked you.

“No, I don’t watch this show…but I heard about the video…” you explained feeling empathy for Arthur.

“They just wanted to make fun of me” he snarled, his eyes feeling with hatred “I won’t ever again be mocked or beaten, they will die” he declared deadly serious. You swallowed feeling the strength and level of dangerous nature he could reach. But as you’ve heard once ‘all it takes is one bad day’ for someone to let go and give in to insanity. Honestly you didn’t know what to say about all this, you simply understood how he ended up this way and there was nothing really to do about this, deep down you wished you had been there for him, if only one single person had cared for him, things would be different and you couldn’t help but think you could be there for him now? Could it help? What about the consequences?

“I’m gonna get some compresses, we need to clean this…” you declared motioning to his forehead, giving him a compassionate smile.

You came back with everything you needed, you approached him, not so afraid anymore and he was actually calm, he didn’t look like he was having a psychosis episode or something like that. Delicately you brushed his hair out of his forehead, and carefully applied the compress, cleaning the cut, you also took care of smaller cuts, Arthur was watching you work on him.

“Why did you come to me?” you asked him after several minutes, this question was burning your lips since the beginning; he had seen you only once and he had followers in all Gotham now, surely somebody would have hidden him…he let out a small laugh.

“I saw you, among all the people there, you caught my eye, I remembered that offered me sweets…” the tone of his voice changes, strangled with emotion “you had looked at me so nicely and gave me something without expecting something in return”. His eyes were nostalgic, remembering this moment, you smiled at this memory.

“You know, I actually watched you every day…I just…for some reason was hiding, I didn’t want you to see me, that’s how we met actually I was watching and I didn’t expect you to come next to me and see me” you confessed blushing and chuckling at how ridiculous you had been. You positioned yourself between his legs to clean the blood around his lips, your fingers delicately cupping his jaw. Your thumb soothingly caressing his cheek; while you cleaned his lips, he stayed silent, still watching your every movement as if you were fascinating, in fact he was actually entranced by your beauty and your care for him. When you finished, you didn’t move, your thumb softly caressed his lower lip, your eyes looking at them, then you looked back at his eyes, they were looking at you with adoration.

“I have to confess something too.” He started with a low voice, intimate “when you left, I wanted to run to you, ask for your name and offer you a coffee, a date actually.”

“Really?” you reply surprised that he was actually interested in you.

“Yes” he cooed, a beautiful smile forming on his lips “I loved you the second I laid my eyes on you.” He added slowly lifting his hands and resting them on your hips. You released a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding, you genuinely smiled at his confession and softly bit your lips.

He studently brought you closer to him, pressing your body against his and crashing his lips against yours, you tasted his blood, metallic, his tongue was soft against yours, you buried your fingers in his green locks, the both of you releasing the restrained desire you had for each other.

“We must make up for lost time kitten…” he purred against your lips, smirking. Oh yes you will and even more…

#joker #joker 2019 #joker x you #joker x reader #Arthur Fleck #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck imagine #arthur fleck x you #Joaquin Phoenix

173 notes · View notes

into-crazy · 5 years

Text

Man Under the Makeup Pt. 1

Arthur Fleck/Joker x Female Reader series

Warnings- Cursing, brief harassment, bullying from teens, Arthur having a laughing fit

You can find the other parts RIGHT HERE and through the “Man Under the Makeup” tag lovelies!💘

Gotham City. How does one begin to describe what it's like living here? What it is now, that is. You never used to mind it much when you moved here. People kept to themselves, the streets were a little more peaceful, and the air was definitely cleaner. It's only been some years, hardly time for it to change to what it has currently come to. Or.. maybe you've just gotten older, and come face to face with the bullshit reality. Because now, it seems like everyone has something to say, the streets have become dangerous at night, and the air is filled with pollution from excess trash piles and the nasty attitudes of the citizens.

Perhaps this is what life has always been like, and you were blind to it until you had to step out into the world on your own. The things that keep you going at night, though it doesn't interfere with your sleep much. Just an occasional thought that pops up when you're not preoccupied with anything else.

Making your way to work, this was one of those times. It's cloudy and cold out this morning. A typical Monday morning in the city. The streets reek of weeks old garbage which pile on the sidewalks.

Dressed for the weather, you're wearing a long blush dress, with a thick black coat, and black boots. You walk past the expressionless faces of many people, trying to get where they need to be. You're not apart of the blank crowd; No, you don't walk around with a smile 24/7. But you have some bit of life in you at least. Not getting why many people are so rude, why they walk around as if they're dead or of higher value. Hm, maybe it's the weather. Thinking of some possible explanation.

At least you're not the only one. There are individuals you can smile at, or of course greet.. The little old lady that sits at her building door as you walk by, the door man at your place of work, and a few mothers strolling along with their young children. They share the same energy as you, returning gracious nods.

Halfway to work, you make way through a busy area with small owned businesses and stores. A successful looking man eyes you up and down as you pass him. You pull your coat closed tightly, walking faster. That action is definitely high on your "Things I Can't Stand" list. You may not be as wealthy, however you've found your own success. Also, you will not let some rich snob think he can buy you. That's the way the rich feel, as though their money can control the world. Which it's arguably true, for the most part.

Ahead of you, a man dressed in a clown costume dances around with a sign: "EVERYTHING MUST GO!!" Painted with black and orange. You often see him out here in the mornings, advertising for one of the stores. Wearing his usual red and blue plaid jacket, deep purple pants, large clown shoes, finished with bright green clown hair and makeup. He's one of those people you tend to smile at when exchanging glances. You can't help but admire his liveliness every time you spot him. So much energy in the way he moves.

Just when you were about to walk around him, two teenagers hurriedly make their way by. One of them extends his arm and purposely shoves the sign. Causing him to bump into you, dropping the sign on your feet.

"Haha, freak!" The teenagers laugh as they speed away.

"Hey!" You shout at them, but they're already too far. Damn jackasses.

"I'm so sorry," the man apologizes picking up the sign, placing it against a trash can. The paint on it was still a little wet, so a bit had rubbed onto your boots. "I didn't mean to-" before he could finish he abruptly breaks out in a laughing fit.

Catching you by surprise, you nervously chuckle with him. Soon coming to the realization that he wasn't laughing voluntarily. They came out strangled and out of his own control. "Hey, are you alright?" You ask him.

He takes note of your worry and tries to speak between the slightest pauses. "Sorry I- I have a- have a condition-" he manages to choke out covering his mouth with one of his hands. The other searching his front pocket. He pulls out a small card, handing it to you. He tries desperately to get himself together as you read the card.

"Oh my- I didn't realize," you felt terrible for your reaction. "How rude of me. I apologize for laughing along."

He calms down after a few more hard laughs. Straightening himself out before responding, "that's alright, I didn't mean to- huh! Ha!- didn't mean to umm scare you."

"No I'm fine. I just want to make sure you are okay." You assure the poor man. Moving your head forward slightly to glance at him as you hand him back the note card. Tears welt up in the corner of his eyes.

"I'll be okay," he confirms glancing back down at your feet. "I got orange paint on your shoes," the man looks at you, "I am sorry." His face is full with concern. Possibly thinking he might have angered you, preparing for you to yell at him in disgust.

"Oh no, it's alright," you assure him, "it wasn't your fault. Those bad kids." You laugh shaking it off.

"Yeah," he fixes his clown nose, "they can be cruel sometimes." There's this childlike quality in him, with the way he moves and speaks. Very shy and timid.

"You're telling me."

"They do it to you too?" He curiously asks. His eyes. Up this close, you see something hidden behind them. Those big green eyes. Masked by a false appearance of happiness.

"Oh, um- no," you shake your head, "I meant that I know how these teenagers act. Such juveniles, with no regard for others."

His gaze lowers to the floor. Shooting himself down for thinking someone as yourself would experience the things he does. "I see. Well, that's just how it is here."

"It's not an excuse for them to be so cruel. Especially for no reason."

Times have been rough in the city. Everything seemed to get more difficult. It amazes you how he can keep a cheerful temperament with the way things are. Although it also saddens you on how he's treated. He seems really sweet and humble, why would he be met with the opposite?

"Well, they see me dressed like this and it's easier for them." He adds. "Happens even out of makeup."

"Really?" You ask. "Still terrible behavior, don't let it get to ya. Wait, I might have seen you before."

"You think so?" He removes the clown wig and nose, then slightly spreads his arms. He does look familiar, although you can't tell much given the amount of make up he has on.

"Okay, yeah. I think I've seen you around before." You laugh placing your hand out, "I'm y/n, by the way."

"Arthur, but my clown name is Carnival." He responds, feeling quite prideful he's made you laugh.

"I like it. Nice to meet ya Arthur slash Carnival," you smile as he shakes your hand.

"Same to you," he chuckles nervously, "I'm just glad you aren't chewing me out for ruining your shoes. Most people get pretty upset if I brush them by accident."

"What these?" You glance at your feet. "Noo it's fine. And as you can see, I'm not a narrow-minded narcissist." You note. "And from what I can tell, neither are you."

"Yeah, thank you," he nods in response. Unable to grasp how kind you're being towards him. Actually holding a decent conversation with him, not giving him the impression that you are uncomfortable- like most people tend to be. In fact, the way they are right now. Walking past, side eyeing the two of you. A look on their face indicating they're wondering why you are even talking to this nut case.

"Well," you start breaking him from his negative train of thought, "I gotta get going. Duty calls. I'll umm, see you around." You say before continuing on.

"Of course, see you, y/n." He waves as you start heading your way. Your words still pondering around in his head.

What an interesting man. You figure, wishing to stay and chat longer. But you have to get to your job, and Arthur back to his. No big deal, you'll see him around. Hopefully talk some more the next time you see him.

Little did you realize that Arthur also amazes himself. The world may be cruel to him, but he just smiles and shrugs it off. It's what he's been told to do. Trying his best to bring joy to this world. But with each passing day, it continues to get much harder. Deep down pushed away are his real feelings. Hidden behind a lock, almost ready to shatter. Completely unaware that it's going to get a lot worse.

Yet for now, he puts on his wig and nose. Working rather more cheerfully, mindful of y/n. The sweet young woman who made his day better.. today..

That's the end of part 1! Hope you like it so far. Fluff & smut will definitely come later on!

#Man Under the Makeup #joker #joker 2019 #arthur fleck #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x y/n #arthur fleck x female reader #joker x reader #joker x y/n

108 notes · View notes

cyberdva · 5 years

Text

Trick Or Treat- Richie Tozier X Reader (Imagine☆)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Summary- The reader and The Losers Club decide to go Trick Or Treating, while Richie tries to continuously flirt with Y/N. The rest of their friends are fed up with Richie’s banter and try to get the two together with a bit of help from each other. Just their luck Richie had already done the job for them.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Main Masterlist

IT Masterlist

Word Count: 2k

Date Uploaded: 10/30/19

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Reader

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: Halloween is tomorrow, so why not bless ourselves with a poorly written Richie fic.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

“Hey Eds, what the hell are you supposed to be?” Richie bolted out his front door running to meet up with his short friend who was inconveniently covered in toilet paper.

He shot his friend a glare, “I’m supposed to be a mummy, you think my mom would let me be anything else.”

Richie laughed, “Aw, your mommy picked out your costume again.” He made a kissy face and inched towards Eddie. The other boy jumped away.

“What the fuck are you even supposed to be anyways?”

Richie pulled his cape under his eyes and hissed, “I’m a vampire, it’s completely obvious Eds.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, “What are you going to do? Bite Y/N?”

Richie went even paler under his white makeup, Eddie was one of the only people who knew about Richie’s enormous crush on Y/N.’

“That shut you up,” he mumbled. Just in time, Stan met up with the two bantering boys, his face had makeup with cold dark eyes and light green skin, a zombie.

“Are you guys fighting again?” Stanley tried his best to remain neutral in these arguments, even though they make no sense.

“Richie is talking about how much he loves-“ Richie slammed Eddie’s mouth shut. Only muffled shouts could be heard.

Stanley looked around for Bill and tried to stay involved in the conversation, ”Wow, Richie has a crush. What a shocker.” The two boys were barely paying attention as they fought in the background. Eddie ended up winning and vigorously tried to wipe off any germs that Richie has left on his mouth. Beverly came up behind the disheveled ‘mummy’ and jumped on his shoulders. It resulted in a shrieking sound, Eddie was just about to head home if Bill didn’t show up moments later.

Beverly has decided to dress up as a cat, a normal costume for someone her age, and Bill dressed up as Marty McFly. He was late on the trend but hadn’t gotten the chance to dress up like him before.

Ben came wandering up the street and sat next to Beverley on a half-empty bench, Bill took notice. He was dressed as one of the New Kids On The Block, which highly amused Beverly.

“Where’s Mike and Y/N?” Bill wanted to get the show on the road and stay near Beverly as much as he could. There were so many houses to explore and so little time with the dumb curfew in place.

Beverly sat down on the grass, “Mike said he was meeting Y/N at her place, they should be here any minute.”

“Since when do they hang out alone?” asked Richie.

“Why do you ask Richie, are you jealous?” Eddie snickered at the confused boy.

“Am not!”

“Yes, you are.”

“Eddie you know wha-“

Mike cut both of them off, “Sorry we’re late, Y/N wanted to make sure she had everything ready.” The whole group relapsed when they saw her costume, a makeshift clown, that looked a tad-bit like Pennywise, stood in front of them. Mike was dressed as Doc from Back To The Future to match Bill. All of them had exceptional costumes, except for Eddie.

“Eddie, what are you wearing?” was the first thing to come out of Y/N mouth.

“See even she agrees with me that your costume sucks!” Richie gaped.

She frowned, “I didn’t say that I just want to know why he’s covered in toilet paper.”

“Well, you meant it.”

“Yeah, I did.”

Eddie let out a huff, “Are we going to get candy or not.”

The sun had already set and the already cold temperature began to drop even lower. It was only 7 and that didn’t leave much time until 10. The day before everyone tried to map out what houses would be the best to go to, but it ended up with Richie scribbling all over the paper and Bill lecturing him on proper behavior, exciting isn’t it. They ended up scrapping the map and just running around through town.

“How about we start by Main Street and make our way to Jackson?” Mike had the best sense of direction out of all of the Losers, a natural talent he developed while bucking through town.

Stan nodded, “That sounds like a good plan.” They all made their way up the street, separating into their smaller groups. Eddie, Richie, and Y/N held up the back, mostly joking about Eddie’s trashy outfit. Beverly and Bill decided to lead all of them, flashlights in hand, discussing some leftover English homework. The middle has a mix of Ben, Stan, and Mike as they chatted about which house had the most candy.

The streets began to quickly fill with smaller children. Really no one in their grade had decided to go out for candy, a party had been the main focus for the high school students. As per usual, none of the nine kids had been invited, they didn’t even know of the event, better that they didn’t. All they hoped was that Bowers or any other new bullies, or harassers had decided to gang up on them.

Ben stopped the group and pointed at a giant green house, “Guys look at the size of that one! I bet you they have a lot of candy!”

“That’s what she said.” Richie joked.

Y/N just looked at him, “How does that even make sense.” They both laughed as they approached the house. Richie has the need to be funny in front of her, regardless of how loud he really was, if he made her laugh it was worth it. The rest of the teens were halfway up the driveway while the other two jokes about phony decorations.

“Could you guys be any slower,” complained Bev. Her voice was strongly overpowered by the teens’ hearty laughs. The night began like that, the group would get candy and move onto another house and so on. All of a sudden the perfect idea popped into Richie’s head.

“Do you want to go do something?” Richie beamed, he had a devious plan and it had to work.

“What do you mean?” he pulled her away from the rest of the group.

“Let’s go do something fun, come on this is so boring.” Y/N shrugged in response, as much as she wanted to hang out with her friends whatever Richie was thinking sounded a lot more entertaining. Richie tried to compromise, now was his chance!

“Come on, please!”

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

The moon loomed over the Losers Club as Mike shivered, his costume wasn’t enough to keep him warm. He felt like his parents were getting impatient just by the hour, they weren’t too happy with him being out with his friends so late. He wished that this could go quicker, but with Bill that might just be impossible.

“Come on guys, this is the last house on the street.” He huffed. Wait… someone’s missing. He tried to do a headcount and two were gone. Y/N and Richie, of course.

He looked around, but there was no sight of them. No one seemed to notice their disappearance, but it was quieter. Stanley noticed Mike behind him and they linked up. They filled each other in. The rest continued on in confusion.

“Where did they go?” Stanley shined his cracked flashlight around the neighborhood, all he could see was heaps of children. “Have you guys seen the two jokesters around anywhere?” Stanley called out a few shouts of “No!” and “Where are they?” emerged from the teens.

Eddie smiled, “Maybe Richie finally made his move.” He slapped his mouth shut, no one else knew about Richie’s ‘dirty secret and he sure as hell didn’t mean to enhance it.

The group stopped walking, “Wait he seriously likes her.” Ben asked. None of them really seemed to care anyway. It wasn’t a huge revelation.

Eddie shook his head, “Just pretend I said nothing.”

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

“Just this way,” Richie guided, “I swear we’re almost there.”

A singular beam of light gleamed in front of them, Y/N could barely see anything. The area was of course familiar, The Kissing Bridge. She had no idea on why Rich brought her there, her costume began to itch, few bugs began attacking her arms and legs. The bumps would be worth it in the end. They made their way inside the rickety old bridge, it creaked with on small footstep, ready to collapse. Frogs croaked in the bathroom and Y/N didn’t know why she was there.

“Rich, what are we doing?” she slapped a mosquito on her elbow, the silence was cut with a knife.

“I dunno,” he shrugged, “I personally didn’t want to go collect candy with them.”

She laughed, “That’s an interesting way to put it, but seriously, what do you want to do?”

He thought, what could they do that would be fun, curfew was coming in quick and there was no stores open.

“We could skip rocks?” What kind of response was that? Skipping rocks, how interesting.

Surprisingly she nodded her head and the two began to walk down a hill. Leaves crunched below them, the boy started to collect pebbles

He handed her a few, he picked the small and round ones just for her, “Here, take these.

“Thanks.” Their hands brushed together and the throwing began. Few rocks managed to skip, none of them paid any attention to the activity. Both drifted off into a sort of dream-like state.

“You know what, I’m just gonna say it.” Richie’s emotions got the best of him.

Y/N turned to look him in the eyes, completely oblivious to what was happening, “Say what?” He took a deep breath, “I like you alot and I needed to know if you want to go see a movie with me. Only if you want.”

Y/N’s eyes went big, “Wait really? I’d love too!”

Relief washed over him, “Good, I thought you liked Eddie or something.”

“Wow, good one.” she laughed.

The rest of their night went swimmingly, jokes and stuffing their faces with candy. The perfect Halloween night for a teen, even if they were home late, far passed the curfew. All worth it.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

#richie tozier x reader #richie tozier imagines #richie tozier x you #richie tozier #fanfiction #fanfic #it #it chapter 1 #it chapter 2

129 notes · View notes

longassr1de · 5 years

Text

Heaven

Pairing: Mark x fem!reader

Genre: Smut/fluff

Work count: 4.2k

Summary: In which pretending to get laid actually ends with a good lay. or In which you spend more than just seven minutes in heaven with your crush.

Warnings: oral (female receiving), fingering, riding/cowgirl. can’t think of much else tbh, it’s pretty tame. not yet proofread, i apologize.

A/N: This turned out a lot fluffier than originally intended ..but hey, that’s what happens when you write while you’re in your feels :,) side note, I think I finally wrote smth that isn’t a pwp so..yay! though i was sleep deprived when i wrote this & it’s like 6am as i’m posting-

Ah, the sweet stench of sweat, alcohol and vomit. Typical traits of a college party, and if you were being honest, you weren’t all too sure how you allowed yourself to be persuaded into attendance. It could have been the fact that you really needed to let off some steam after finals, it could have been that you were bored at home and needed a change of scenery, or perhaps it was because a little birdie had informed you that your crush was likely to show up tonight. But surely, it was because of the free booze, no?

Lying aside, it wasn’t as large as a typical frat party; a fairly average one as far as you could gather from your experience, given that it was being held in someone’s home. Your friends had split in all directions almost as soon as you’d arrived, looking to find drinks or companions or old friends, of which you weren’t very concerned with. Jelly shots and heavy bass EDM wasn’t your ideal Friday night, but it would have to do for now.

After your fair share of drinks (a beer, some jello shots, and a supposed margarita that tasted more like tap water than alcohol), you decide to venture inwards, trying your hand at a spot on the makeshift dance floor. You’re having fun in your own little world until you accidentally bump into someone while trying to break free for some fresh air, almost spilling your drink over the unfortunate passerby. Turning to apologize for your inebriated clumsiness, you’re greeted by none other than your classmate, Mark.

“Oh hey,” Mark calls out to you, smiling at a familiar face, “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Neither did I, until tonight,” you joke, but there’s a hint of truth behind your words.

“Did you also happen to be abandoned by the people you came with, or are you lone wolfing it?” You chuckle at the way he words his question, not missing the way he tries (and fails) to subtly check you out in your gorgeous emerald dress.

“Lone wolfing it after my abandonment, if they left me, they can stay gone.” A smug grin plasters itself on your face as you take a sip of your drink.

“Ahh, I feel you. The guys ditched me the second they found the cheerleaders and beer pong.” Mark rolls his eyes, following suit and taking a swig from his beer. Leaning closer to him, you find yourself having to speak up due to the music.

“In all honesty, this conversation is great, but I can barely hear you,” Mark’s eyes crinkle as his telltale laugh lines form, “so if you’d like to continue, can we move somewhere quieter? Unless you were just saying hi, that’s fine too.”

“Someplace quieter sounds great right now, after you,” he gestures vaguely, insinuating that he would simply follow your lead. You try your best not to let yourself linger over his appearance, but you know damn well that in the back of your mind, the image of Mark in a button down and jeans will be embroidered there for the better part of the next month. Minimum.

Conversation flows smoothly as you both enjoy the breeze on the balcony, catching up on life events, intermittent with preposterous tales and the silliest of jokes. That’s how it always felt when you were around Mark though, like you could be yourself without a care in the world, his free spirit and funny personality letting conversation flow through so easily you’d hardly noticed how long you’d been missing.

The balcony door suddenly swings open, making you pray it wasn’t some horny couple trying to get it on in the fresh air. Instead, you’re met with one of the friends you came with, claiming she’d frantically been searching for you everywhere. When you ask why, all she answers with is that they need people for truth or dare, to which you roll your eyes at but begrudgingly accept your fate. As you’re dragged by the wrist, you shoot an apologetic glance at your companion; he only shrugs in response, opting to tag along due to his unwavering curiosity.

The game commenced after the first person volunteered, and whoever was seated clockwise from them had to go next. So far: someone had revealed they were secretly a porn actor, someone had to lick the bottom of someone else’s boot, someone had confessed they once had a wet dream with a clown, and someone was dared to prank call the local pizza joint asking if it was the krusty krab. Not too far out of a game, but also not exactly anything normal, as far as you were concerned. You find your heart starting to pound, hand sweating as your friend goes, watching as she does a belly shot off one of Mark’s friends; perhaps his name was Johnny, but you’re not too certain. All you can hear is the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears, immediately regretting picking dare when you see the way your friend’s eyes light up with malicious intent.

“I dare you... to a round of seven minutes in heaven,” she pauses for dramatic effect, effectively jamming your heart into your throat when you notice where her eyes land... to the boy sitting right next to you. “With Mark Lee.” Everyone in the circle cheers, having only witnessed a reluctant make-out earlier, they were ready for some fresh blood, and it would appear you were the sacrificial lamb.

You swallow hard, the way Mark stills in his spot going entirely unnoticed. He stands up first, trying to act unfazed as he holds out his hand to help you up, walking over to the closet with you in tow, hanging your head low. You damned the drinks for starting to wear off, knowing you were much shier without the alcoholic assistance, and much better off with it.

“And the timer starts... now!”

your friend yells as she locks the closet door, leaving you both in a relatively dark, cramped space. You swear to get your vengeance on your friend for tonight, she knew damn well about your crush on Mark, and she was going to force it out of you one way or another, it would appear.

“God, I’m so sorry you got dragged into this,” you run your hands through your hair, once again failing to notice as Mark’s throat runs dry, eyes raking over your appearance with heavy gaze.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says after clearing his throat, “it’s not like any of this is your fault, anyway.” Even in the pale glow of the light through the lines of the closet door you can make out his beautiful smile; it’s a smile that you would know anywhere.

“So... seven minutes locked in a closet. Hope neither of us are claustrophobic,” you try to make light of the situation, pretending that you can’t feel the heat radiating off his body. You try to raise your hand to find the wall, instead finding Mark’s chest, apologizing as you pull your hand back as if it had just touched a hot iron. He laughs at your reaction, finding it adorable how opposite your actions were to your appearance tonight. A tight emerald dress paired with black heels and smoky-eyed makeup to complete your ensemble had you looking like you’d devour the first person to speak to you, but instead, here you were blushing at every slight action. The boy had no idea that was all his effect on you, thinking you were just very shy all the while.

“Hey, I just got an idea,” Mark grins deviously, causing you to furrow your brows in concern. “Hear me out, ok? Have you ever seem Easy A?” You nod, wondering where this was going. “Do you remember how she would pretend that she slept with someone, just faking the noise?” Your eyes widen as what he’s hinting at registers in your brain, elevating your nerves and skyrocketing your pulse. The mere thought of it had you feeling a little damp, wondering what pretty little noises would be leaving his mouth.

“I’m... not too sure about this,” you start off, chewing on your lip. He assures you that he won’t force you into anything, just found it to be a fun, harmless prank to play. “Yeah sure, let’s get on with this, then,” and you pray that for the second time tonight, you don’t regret your decision.

It’s a lot harder than you initially thought, you ponder, trying not to laugh as you both slap the walls and make the most absurd of noises. If that was really how he sounded, you don’t think you could ever sleep with Mark without laughing your ass off; but then again, you certainly weren’t true to form with your overly exaggerated fake moaning either.

It’s when he suggests that you both make it sound more real that things take a turn. You suddenly find yourself all too close, drowning in his scent, tempted by his presence and tainted by desire. You’re all too tempted to just lean up and kiss Mark’s beautiful pouted lips when he catches you staring, stopping dead in his tracks mid-fake moan.

“Something tells me that look on your face definitely isn’t fake,” he whispers, voice a hushed whisper lulling past the dull thudding in your eardrums. “Please tell me it isn’t fake, that I’m not imagining the way your eyes are just eating me up.” Mark sounds breathless, almost as if incredulous at your attraction towards him. You can’t help but think he must be dense to not have noticed by now... but so must you if you never caught his shy glances or lustful staring.

“Oh it’s real alright, and so could these noises if we just stopped playing these games already,” you hadn’t noticed you’d said the second part aloud until you saw firsthand the shift in his demeanor. Mark’s entire face screamed want as he brought a hand up to cup your face, the other landing on your waist.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, searching deep into your eyes as if to find out that this was a bad joke all along.

“About as sure as the fact that I’m glad my underwear is matching tonight,” you tease, unknowing of where this sudden urge of confidence was coming from, entirely grateful nonetheless. Mark leans in softly, slowly, as if worried he might scare you away, and it takes everything in you not to drag him to you by the collar in one hurried tug.

His plush lips feel wet, likely from running his tongue over it one too many times, and slightly cracked, probably due to chapping. But that’s the least of your worries as it feels like he’s sucking the air out from your very lungs, pausing to nip or suckle on your bottom lip before losing it entirely when your fingers tug at his hair, slipping his tongue past your lips. You’re startled by the sudden noise, followed by more light than your eyes could properly get used to on such short notice. There stands your friend on the other side, the room mostly empty now, with just a few stragglers.

“So did you two fuck all that tension away yet or was that all just for show?” She quirks a brow at your bruised lip, wondering if you’d been kissed anywhere else tonight.

“Was working on it, til you showed up, actually.” Mark’s brazenness leaves you floored, but surprisingly only serves to fuel the fire he’d ignited deep in your belly.

“By all means then, don’t let me stop you,” she leaves you with a wink, mimicking a phone with her hand as she tells you to call her tomorrow with the details. After she disappears from view, you feel Mark’s hand slip though your tresses, bringing you back to reality.

“Hey, I was totally joking to get her to bug off, but... the offer stands,” he lets out hurriedly, almost as if he was scared you’d shut him down.

“Well, what did you have in mind?”

“We can either go grab a late dinner and pretend this never happened or we can go back to my place? And I’ll treat you to breakfast. It’s all in your hands though,” he smiles nervously at you, eyes pleading what his heart is too scared to show.

“You must be confident,” to which Mark quirks a brow in response, “assuming I’d stay until morning come.” You jest, watching as his mouth gapes but fails to come up with an actual reply. “I’m just kidding, lover boy. Let’s get back to your place then, I’m sure you’d like more than just an answer in my hands.” He audibly groans at that, feeling his pants tighten as he follows you out the front door of the party residence, calling for an uber as you trail a line of teasing kisses across his jaw.

The ride back to his apartment is filled with mindless conversation, neither of you daring to go farther than sneaking kisses or placing a hand on each other’s thighs. The moment of arrival, you swear you could’ve kissed the pavement from how relieved you were. You both made out for the duration of the elevator ride, with your hands in his back pockets as his find purchase at the base of your thighs, just under the hem of your dress. When the door opens, he walks backwards with you in tow, stopping to suck a lovely bruise into your collarbone before slotting the key into the lock.

No sooner than the door shuts behind you are you being pressed up against it, jumping up to wrap your legs around Mark’s waist. It’s the first time you come into heavy contact with the stiffness in his jeans, letting out a muffled noise into the heated kiss. He’s stumbling to carry you as he blindly makes his way around, nearly tripping over a cord as he opts to set you down until you’ve reached the safety of the bedroom. Laughing it off, you follow Mark to his quarters, taking in the sights of his room as you wrap yourself into his backside.

“Time for you to put your money where your mouth is,” you tease, spurring him on to turn around and run his hands down your sides.

“Oh, there will be plenty of time for me to put things in my mouth, baby. But for right now, as gorgeous as you look in it,” he stops to stare at the way it hugs your curves, “I just want you out of this damned dress.” You chuckle at his impatience, turning around so he can tug the zipper down, feeling Mark place kisses down your spine as the dress pools around your legs at the floor. He pulls back only to be pleasantly surprised by your earlier statement, you actually were wearing matching underwear, and white lace at that.

“I can’t tell if you’re an angel who’s come to me or the devil who’s luring me,” he sighs, breathless, “but either way I’m worshipping you tonight.”

“Does that mean you’ll be on your knees for me?” your tone flirty and light, taking note of the way your words have such a hold on him, the way his face gives away every one of his emotions.

“If that’s what you want, I’d be more than happy to oblige.” And so you find yourself sitting up against the headrest, Mark’s button down joining your dress on the floor as he tweaks your nipples, kissing his way down your stomach. His hands slide to part your thighs, taking in a deep breath at the scent of your arousal as your underwear joins the heap. He spends countless minutes pulling sounds from you with his tongue and fingers, not failing to let you know how mesmerizing he found you (and your moans); all the while not so subtly humping the bed to help give some friction where he needed it most. You’ve already come once and feel yourself starting to build up to a second when Mark pulls away, drawing out a whine from you as you tug at his hair.

There’s an almost sleepy smile on his face, no doubt tired from a long week of finals as well. “Tell me to stop at any time and I will, ok?” he says as he places multiple kisses on your lips, still in disbelief as to how he managed to get you to come home with him after weeks of being unable to work up the courage to just ask you out. He’d have to thank liquid courage for that one, actually.

You lean up on your elbows to watch as Mark undresses, then produces a condom from his nightstand, pinching the tip and rolling it onto his length.

“You ready, sweetness?” Unable to help crinkle in your nose, or the giggle that bubbles in your throat at the name, you lean up to tug him down to you; taking the time to enjoy his slow, deep kisses before moving on to the main event, uncaring if you could taste yourself on his lips. As you two part, a trail of saliva follows, which he wipes at with his thumb, rubbing it across your bottom lip gently.

“You’re absolutely sure about this?”

“I’m sure, Mark. No regrets,” you mutter more to yourself than to him, wondering how the human brain can choose to psych itself out at the worst of times. He flips you both over, having you straddle his lap as he places both of his hands on your sides, pausing briefly to litter your neck and chest with butterfly kisses, half of which you’re sure will blossom into a constellation of love bites.

“Feeling lazy now, are we?” you attempt to tease him once again to help settle your oncoming nerves.

“I’d rather you take it at your own pace, babygirl,” one of his hands moves up to run across your jaw, “I wanna learn what you like, what you don’t like, what makes you tick. If tonight’s the only shot I have at impressing you, so be it, but I’d love to take you out sometime... maybe do this all again someday.” Mark’s confession flows out naturally, but it’s obvious you’re not the only one feeling like you’re in over your head here, which makes you feel much more at ease.

“Look at you, Lee, I didn’t peg you to be someone to do things so out of order,” you tsk. “Isn’t it supposed to be a date first and then sex?” He unconsciously pouts at your teasing, bringing you to press another kiss to his lips, this time with the sole intention of pulling his jutting lower lip with your teeth.

“We’ll go out on a date wherever you want tomorrow, I promise,” he slurs into the crook of your neck, almost shy in his words now. It’s as if the admittance of feelings has made the night much more personal than either one of you intended, and yet, neither of you can find it in you to complain.

You slowly lower yourself onto his cock, shutting your eyes at the sheer pleasure beginning to build up again. Mark lets out the softest of whines despite his deep voice, absolutely enamored by the way your warm walls seem to just trap him right in, making him never wish to leave the paradise between your legs.

You start to find your rhythm the more you bounce yourself in his lap, shifting from grinding down slowly to humping into him with fervor. Mark tries desperately to quiet his moans by meeting your lips with his, only for it to not work out quite as intended when your noses bump into one another. You two simply laugh it off, his hands sliding down to your thighs and back, head falling back as it resonates with the headboard.

“Fuuckk,” the word escapes Mark’s lips in a drawn-out drawl. “You feel so good baby, so.. so fucking good,” he grunts as he thrusts up into you, checking for your reaction until you nod, giving him the green light. Mark doesn’t hold back anymore after that, meeting your hips with his own, hitting even harder now, much deeper than before.

“Looks like I might be staying until breakfast after all,” you pant, dropping yourself into his lap, exhausted. Mark chuckles into the break he’d been sucking at, nudging at your chest with his nose to get your attention.

“Want me to take over if you’re too tired?” His voice was far too sweet for the way he was still shallowly thrusting into your heat, too needy to think straight but still focusing as much of his attention as possible on your own needs. You nod before leaning to place your forehead on his shoulder. Duly noted, don’t skip leg day.

Mark picks up speed with renewed fervor, holding your hips in place as he thrusts upwards at an angle that fills you up deliciously. He thumbs at your clit, eager to get you off before he cums, already racing you towards your orgasm whether he wanted to or not.

“Ok this is going to sound kind of embarrassing but you’re so fucking hot and you feel amazing, I don’t think I can last much longer,” Mark admits openly, honestly.

“That’s fine by me, I’m fucking exhausted,” you two stop to laugh at the double entendre before rutting yourselves into one another in search of release. You’re only allowed a quick warning before you feel him cum into the condom, the pulsing of his cock being the final trigger to your orgasm.

You whimper and whine in his lap as Mark keeps rubbing your clit, eventually stopping him when it gets too much, feeling too sensitive for any more. He tilts his head to press a kiss onto your forehead, cradling the back of your head with one arm as the other encircles your waist. Both of you start to slip from your current position as Mark slowly slides down, pulling out with a hiss and parting from your entanglement of limbs to dispose of the used condom.

“Man, that was lame,” Mark breaks the silence, almost making you worry before adding, “I wasn’t supposed to come before you did.” He drapes an arm over his head after his statement, rejoining you on the mattress now. It’s adorable how he’s beating himself up over something you found so trivial. After all, it wasn’t like you didn’t come, in fact, you’d come twice tonight.

“Mark, please don’t worry about that. It’s fine, baby,” you coo at him, leaning up on an elbow to play with his hair. “You did wonderful, and it’s not like I was dissatisfied, so please, don’t be so hard on yourself.” Mark, ever the perfectionist, opts not to answer, but rather vows to do better next time. Oh, how he hopes there’s a next time.

“So, about that date tomorrow...” he changes the subject, falling hard for the twinkle in your eyes as you two discuss your plans for the following day. He’s almost shocked at himself with how domestic he was already acting around you, how gentle he was and how carefully he wanted to treasure you. You stop halfway into your rambling when you notice the silly grin plastered on Mark’s face.

“You haven’t heard a damn thing I said, have you?” You stop stroking his hair, nose huffing as you realize you were wasting your breath. Mark simply pulls you down into his chest, wrapping you tight into his embrace, too bashful to say things like these to your face.

“I was just busy thanking all the divine beings for shoving us into that raggedy closet tonight,” he muses, mulling over his words carefully. “You know, I’m not so sure I would have had the courage to finally ask you out if it wasn’t for that little stunt tonight.” You’re almost shocked at his confession, but find you can only nod as you’d been in the same predicament just hours prior.

“My friend is never going to let me heat the end of this,” you groan as Mark laughs at your pathetic struggle. He brings his hand under your chin, tilting it until you’re looking up at him.

“Those were definitely more than seven minutes in heaven,” Mark purrs, “and these moans were definitely not fake,” he smirks at the light rose color dusting on your cheeks. You slap weakly at his bicep, it’s all you can do to stop yourself from spontaneously combusting.

“And I’d like for nothing more than several years in heaven with you,” Mark thinks to himself as you snore softly in his arms, blissfully ignorant of the lovesick look in his eyes yet again.

357 notes · View notes

b-skarsgard · 5 years

Link

Bill Skarsgård recently watched “Keeping Up With the Kardashians” for the first time. He was on a plane; you know how that sort of thing goes. As he mulls over the widespread fascination with America’s first family of reality television, a lightbulb goes off: what about “Keeping Up With the Skarsgårds?” It’s certainly getting harder to keep track of the extended family of Swedish actors: father Stellan and older brother Alexander have already paved the way in Hollywood, and brothers Gustaf and Valter are actors as well. He pantomimes a phone call with one of his seven siblings, tapping into his inner Khloé.

Although he was nine when he first started acting professionally (a Swedish thriller, which starred Alexander), the “It” franchise marks Skarsgård’s true Hollywood breakout. On Sept. 6, he returns to theater screens for “It: Chapter Two.”

When the first installment premiered in September 2017, the film went on to become the highest-grossing R-rated horror film of all time. With an A-list cast attached to the sequel — Jessica Chastain, James McAvoy, Bill Hader — portraying the adult versions of the Losers Club children, expectations are high for the second film, and it’s likely that even more eyes will be on Skarsgård.

The final fight looms large for the film adaptation of Stephen King’s novel. In King’s story, Skarsgård’s Pennywise returns to wreak havoc every 27 years; indeed, it was 27 years between Tim Curry’s 1990 television portrayal of the character and Skarsgård’s. This time around, the monster was less dormant before returning for its encore.

Whereas he spent a lot of time experimenting with various laughs, physicalities and faces before the first shoot, for the second installment Skarsgård was thrust back into the deranged clown’s world with little warning.

“I think the effects crew was, like, ‘Whoa, what the f–k.’ When you do the digital thing you only have dots on your face so you look like yourself,” says the 29-year-old actor, lanky and lounged on a couch wearing a floral button-up short-sleeve shirt and dark jeans. “It’s almost more jarring seeing me doing Pennywise looking like myself because it looks like a complete maniac. It’s almost like the makeup translates onto the character. Without the makeup I just look like a human being that’s not normal whatsoever.”

Skarsgård credits his costume and makeup team — “the Pennywise unit” — for the hours of work that went into his physical transformation on-set, particularly the two artists applying his prosthetics each day: Sean Sansom and Shane Zander.

Zander, on-set prosthetic makeup effects key artist, was with Skarsgård from Day One of test makeup to the last of the shoots for the second film: more than 50 applications of Pennywise.

“Bill is Pennywise. Once we sat him down for two hours and applied all the makeup, he transforms. It is amazing to watch him work. He gets into the character so well. Sometimes he’s outright scary as hell,” Zander says. “We were used to seeing him, but a lot of the crew members and other actors were genuinely freaked out when they saw him. Bill is a tall guy, and put him in a creepy clown costume and face; that’s nightmare fuel there,” he adds. “He would Skype with his brothers quite often while in the makeup and they would really get a kick out of it.”

There’s one person who’s definitely not freaked out by Pennywise, and that person is Skarsgård himself.

“I see myself,” says the actor. “I’m so familiar with the look of the character, too, that its like, I don’t see it as the Pennywise monster, I see myself in a clown face.”

Others see Pennywise, whether he’s in makeup or not. And turns out, it’s a hit with Customs.

“I flew in from Stockholm last night and as I walked in through Customs — you know when you fill out the Customs form, and then you go through the Customs and then you pick up your luggage and then you walk through and have to hand in the little — he was like, ‘Neeeext. Thought so. They all float down here, am I right, man?'” a reference to Skarsgård’s most famous line in the story. “With his big thick New York accent.”

He’s not phased, but Skarsgård, who lives in Sweden with his girlfriend and daughter, is more accustomed to a low-key existence.

“People tend to leave you alone in Sweden. Especially in New York, there’s a sense of this enthusiasm that you don’t find in Sweden,” he says. “Also in Stockholm, people just expect me to be there probably.”

Well, expect to be seeing Skarsgård around even more, at least on the big screen. Skarsgård also appears as the lead in “Villains” out in September, a small budget dark comedy that premiered at SXSW in March. Whereas “It” was a big studio undertaking with special effects, “Villains” was a more modest production by two young directors whose script had landed on the “blacklist” — a selection of the industry’s best unproduced screenplays.

“We had only ever seen him in the context of horrors or thrillers, the scary clown in ‘It’ or something where he’s playing a werewolf or vampire,” says the writer-director duo, Robert Olsen and Dan Berk. “We were, like, ‘Is he capable of being this charismatic and lovely of a character?'” Turns out, yes. “We felt like we could at the same time show the world what Bill Skarsgård is capable of, which we think is being a Hollywood leading man and he’s starting to really show that now.”

After Skarsgård’s brief layover in New York in mid July — he was particularly excited about being upgraded to a balcony room at his hotel downtown — Skarsgård was headed to Utah to film “Nine Days” with first-time feature director Edson Oda, opposite Winston Duke and Zazie Beetz. After that, it was back to Sweden for his sister’s wedding in August before jumping full force into fall and the “It” press tour. He has a few films in post production, too; pretty soon, Pennywise will finally be left behind, for good.

Skarsgård himself isn’t a horror film fan, though he offers an addendum: He likes good movies. And sometimes good movies happen to be scary.

“I’ve never been a fan of the feeling of, ugh, like I’m about to pop a balloon, I’m about to pop a balloon,” Skarsgård says; coincidentally, red balloons mark his character’s presence in “It.” “That’s the jump scare thing, you know it’s like, eeek, I’m going to jump — but I don’t want to jump. At the very end of most horror films I’m never scared.”

#link #article #wwd #wwd magazine #interview #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgård #it the movie #villains

79 notes · View notes

p-artsypants · 5 years

Text

Longest Night (18) Vowing

Marinette had thought Highschool had been hard. Right now, in this moment, she'd give anything to go back to those petty arguments and gossip fueled drama. But she couldn't. Instead, she and Adrien were trapped here, being punished, humiliated, tortured, for being heroes, all broadcasted for the world to see. At least she and her kitty were in this together. For now. Whump!Fic

Ao3 | FF.net

Before we get into this chapter, I just want to thank each and every one of you for sticking with this pain for so long. I know it hurts, but man, I really want the ending to be worth it for everyone. Just stick with me for a little longer!

This chapter may be the most dark. We are Adrien and Marinette, and some sad stuff is going to happen. But I have ended the chapter with some fluff to balance it out. And I think we are halfway through. We’ll see if the ending drags on longer.

I hope you all forgive me.

—

Marinette had officially lost track of the days. It was a feat that she had kept up with it as long as she had. But given there were no clocks and no sunlight, she was forced to conclude that time didn’t matter in this place.

Given the amount of times she ‘rested’ in her cage, she’d put their stay at either 5 days or a full week.

Could torture grow stagnant? Because that’s what it was starting to feel like.

In the mornings, there was some form of humiliation tactic being used. Degrading names, dehumanizing acts. Forced to eat food off the ground, forced to crawl and act like animals.

She was getting used to it.

And that was concerning.

In the afternoon, they’d hang from their chains, and in the evenings, they played the noose game.

Adrien at least coped better than he did at the beginning. He kept his eyes clenched shut and refused to cry out. When he began to hyperventilate, he would remember how to breathe, and calm down for a moment, before repeating the cycle.

Had Salo run out of ideas? Or was something worse coming?

It seemed the questioned would be answered after the fifth ‘rest’.

Marinette awoke to someone stomping on her hand, which was outside of the cage, holding Adrien’s.

She recoiled with a hiss, pulling her hand back in and holding it.

“Isn’t that just so disgustingly sweet?” Salo asked, as the chains on her door were unlocked. “You’re sure going to like what we do today!”

Marinette was grabbed by the wrist and pulled into another room. Obediently, she didn’t ask any questions, but she was keenly aware that Adrien wasn’t following her.

In the new room, Marinette was made to stand. It was a small room, one light on the ceiling, with a table off to the side. A paper bag sat on the table.

She was alone with Salo. But that gun was still on her hip.

“Are you ready for the most important day of your life?”

Marinette hunched her shoulders. What was that supposed to mean?

“I…I don’t know.”

“Of course you don’t, you stupid bitch.” Salo laughed. “Now strip.”

A precursory glance around the room showed that there where no cameras in the room.

It’s not like it mattered though. Paris had already seen her naked.

So she pulled at the ties and took off her robe, laying it on the table nearby.

Salo didn’t say anything, just took out some white fabric from the bag. A corset and tutu, to be exact.

Marinette stared at the outfit with some degree of confusion.

“What, you’ve never seen a wedding dress before?” Asked Salo, with a little grin.

“Not…one that looked like that.”

She laughed. “Oh I know it’s a little different. But you’ll look so stunning!” She opened up the corset and wrapped it around her waist, fastening it in the front. “Oh good, perfect fit. I worried we’d have to starve you for another week before you could fit into it.” She turned her around, and began to tighten the ribbons.

“Why...am I wearing a wedding dress?”

Salo giggled, “why do you think silly girl? You’re getting married!”

Marinette’s heart felt unbelievably heavy at that announcement. “To who?”

“Why, to Chat Noir, of course. No one else wants you like this.”

Well, that was a relief. And it wasn’t like they were actually getting married, right? This was another one of her sick games. Making a mockery of something beautiful, joyful. Desecrating the sacred, and ruining the perfect.

Salo pulled the ribbons tight, making it hard to breathe.

“Oh, but I know what you’re thinking. This is just some sort of joke, right? No no, my dear. I��ve got a mayor here to make it official. I’m not going to tell you where he’s from, but all the paperwork has already been submitted. In a few hours, you’ll be Mrs. Adrien Agreste. Isn’t that just exciting?”

No.

It wasn’t.

Not like this.

Of course, she loved Adrien. And she loved Chat Noir too, by extension. She always dreamed of marrying him and having three kids and a hamster.

But that was when she was a kid. She was older now, and recognized that she wasn’t ready for marriage. Her and Chat had good camaraderie, Adrien and her were good friends. But a good friendship and business partnership did not a marriage make.

“Aw, you’re so happy you’re crying!” Salo cooed.

Marinette covered her face with her hands.

Her mother was supposed to be here, helping her put on the dress. And Alya, she was supposed to be here too. And her father was going to walk her down the aisle!

Where was the dress that she designed herself? Her flowers? The lovely chateau for the reception?

No, all she had was cold, dirty cement, and a too-revealing dress. If you could even call it that.

“There, let’s do your makeup. No bride is complete without a makeover!”

Marinette shook her head and backed into a corner. “No, no please, I don’t want to do this!”

“What’s wrong? Do you not love him?”

“No, I do! But I—“

Shit.

A malevolent smile came over Salo’s face, snagging onto the information and tucking it away for future use.

“No!” Marinette protested. “I meant that I love him, I care for him, but he’s like my brother! I love him platonically!”

Salo obviously wasn’t buying it.

“You know I hear everything you two say in that room, right? And so does everyone else in Paris. We all know that you had a crush on Adrien, and that he’s in love with you. There’s no use lying to make it easier.”

Salo walked slowly over to her as she talked, and then grabbed Marinette by the hair and forced her to look her in the eye. “Because whether you ‘love’ him, or not, torturing him in front of you is still going to hurt like a bitch.”

Marinette just moaned in pain. There was no winning with this woman.

Salo grabbed her by the wrists and had her sit at the table. “There there, pumpkin. We can’t have you crying while I put on your makeup.” She wiped her face with a handkerchief. “Now, to make you all pretty.”

Clown makeup.

Specifically Pagliacci.

A white face, with thick red lips, black outlines around the eyes, and black lines that looked like tears.

She looked demented.

Crying would only make it look worse.

“Now come along,” Salo grabbed her wrist again. “Your groom awaits you.”

Marinette was dragged by the wrist into the room she was so familiar with. The air reeked of alcohol. Men sat in chairs in rows, forming an aisle. At the end, a man with a book stood at attention.

And Adrien. Who was completely naked except for a bowtie. The bruise from his arm was now a sickly green, while the bruise on his chest from the crowbar was dark purple.

At her entrance, his jaw dropped, his eyes sparkling with tears. Sure, she had wanted her future husband to cry when he saw her in her wedding dress.

But not like this.

Never like this.

The audience stood, wobbling. She recognized that most were some sort of drunk.

Salo looped an arm around hers and started to walk her down the aisle.

The assembled started to sing, in a slur of drunken gaiety.

Here comes the bride,

All dressed in white.

Marinette couldn’t help it. She started to cry. How desperately she wished to hide, to cover herself, to never leave the house again.

Sweetly, serenely in the soft glowing light.

A hand grabbed her butt, and she sobbed outright.

Lovely to see, marching to thee.

Sweet love united for eternity.

Then she was next to Adrien, his mouth still open, searching for words to say.

But he had nothing.

No comfort.

No affection.

Just hopeless silence.

She wasn’t much better.

“Why are you doing this?” She asked Salo, in a stint of bravery.

Salo smiled, in what looked like patience. “In my research of the Ladyblog, I found a recurring theme. A lot of people in the forums wanted you two to get together. Not only that, but they wanted you to have a public ceremony, so everyone could be a part of it. And you see…you both are going to die here. I figure, you probably both wanted to get married someday. Who am I to take that away from you?”

Who indeed?

Adrien reached out and took her hand, squeezing.

Now that she was in front, Marinette noticed something very off about the officiant.

He was shaking like a leaf, and very pale. He didn’t look the least bit jolly like the rest of them. He actually looked downright terrified.

Salo needed an officiant. So, it was likely that he was being held here against his will. Just like them.

“Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today to join…Chat Noir and Ladybug together in holy matrimony.”

Holy. There wasn’t anything holy about this. God had his face turned away.

“Adrien, do you take Marinette to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poor, until death do you part?”

Adrien swallowed and answered with a whisper. “I do.”

“And Marinette, do you take Adrien to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poor, until death do you part?”

“Yes, I do.”

The officiant sighed heavily. “The brands?”

Now, Adrien may have had his entire wedding to Ladybug all planned, but no where in all his research, did he read anything about brands.

There was an echoing squeaking coming from the hall, before another one of Salo’s men wheeled in a cart. On it, there was a cast iron pot with hot coals in it, and two pieces of metal sticking out.

Marinette stood a little closer to Adrien, fear overwhelming her. Likewise, he held her hand a little tighter.

Salo, and two men stood from the crowd, and went to Adrien, and took his bad arm, laying it flat, palm up on the cart.

Salo took a pair of heavy gloves and gave them to Marinette. “Alright, you’re going to take this brand right here, and you’re going to press it to his palm for five seconds.”

“I’m not doing that.” Marinette protested.

“Fine, then I’ll do it for you, and make it hurt so much worse. I’ll burn right through his hand.”

“No, wait…” Marinette clenched her fist. “I’ll…I’ll do it.”

“That’s a good girl.”

Marinette slipped the gloves over her shaking hands, and picked up the designated brand. Trembling, she held it over his open palm.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Repeat after me: with this brand, I thee wed.”

“With this brand…I thee wed.” She trembled, before plunging it down.

It sizzled on his skin as a scream ripped from his throat. His fingers twitched, and his other hand grabbed at the nearest body and fisted in their shirt.

It couldn’t have been five seconds. Surely she counted too fast. But she couldn’t stand the sound, the smell. She ripped the brand off of him and dropped it on the floor.

In an act of mercy, Salo dropped his hand in ice water, which made it better before numbing his hand completely.

Marinette tore the gloves off. Wanting to take him and hold him, begging for forgiveness.

But she didn’t. She just stood there sniveling.

Without anyone forcing her to, she laid her arm down, where Adrien’s had been, palm up.

“No, no Mari, don’t.” Adrien begged.

“Please…it’s only fair.”

Adrien took his arm out of the water, holding his palm open for her to see.

The skin was blood red and bubbling, but in center of all the gruesome gore, the word ‘Ladybug’ was written in a fancy cursive font.

A brand. He belonged to her.

And soon she’d belong to him too.

She nodded him on.

Salo put the glove on for him and pointed out the correct brand for him to use. Because he was using his non-dominant hand, he braced his elbow on the edge of the cart to keep steady. The last thing he wanted to do was mess this up and cause her unnecessary pain.

A rivulet of sweat broke through her face paint and tracked down her cheek.

The officiant, with his eyes shut tight, spoke, “repeat after me: with this brand, I thee wed.”

“With this…this brand, I…I thee wed.” He stuttered, not even processing what he was saying. Then, after a moment of hesitation, he pressed the brand into her skin.

Marinette seemed to take it better than him. She turned her face away so she didn’t have to see. Her freehand came up to bite her knuckle as a very slightly muted scream rose from her chest.

White hot searing pain, that burned and sizzled all the way up her arm.

And just when she stopped feeling it, he pulled away.

The brand clattered to the floor, and Adrien held her fingers as she panted. Finally, she dared to look at her hand.

‘Chat Noir’ was written in matching script to Adrien, and the surrounding skin was raw, blistering, and bleeding.

The officiant took a trembling breath. “Then, by the power invested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

It felt too weird, and too inappropriate to kiss at a time like this. This bastardized wedding didn’t deserve romance. It was wrong and awful.

But Adrien came closer, and caressed her arm gently, full of affection and love.

“May I?” He whispered.

“Yes,” she returned, just as softly.

It was just a peck. Certainly not the type of firework-filled kisses in the movies.

Neither of them enjoyed it anyway.

“Oh that’s not a kiss! Give her a real smooch!” A man heckled in the crowd.

Adrien bent and kissed her again, lingering longer this time.

“Nah kid! Use the tongue!”

Adrien grimaced, and helplessly shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know how to tongue kiss.”

“Me niether.”

“Then ya better get ta practicin’!”

There were days in school, where Marinette would gaze longingly at the back of Adrien’s head, imagining him pining her to the wall, running his hands up her thighs, and swirling his tongue with hers.

But this just felt lewd and wrong. Especially with everyone whooping and hollering in the background.

She kissed him back, her heart pounding in her chest.

Just for once, she wanted to enjoy and remember a kiss with Adrien. Was that too much to ask?

Adrien pulled away, looking incredibly sheepish.

“Presenting Mr. and Mrs. Adrien Agreste.” Said the officiant, with some relief. He rested a shaky hand on both of their shoulders as he presented them to the crowd. A tear rolled down his cheek. “Will you let me go now?”

Salo smirked, standing, as her hand went to her hip. “Yeah, you can join your wife and daughter.” Then she withdrew her gun and without warning, shot the man in the head.

Marinette shrieked as he hit the floor.

The drunken mass of an audience all started singing the wedding march, out of tune and too loud.

“Daaa! Daaa! Dadadada—!”

Marinette just started bawling, her tears making the black paint melt and run down her cheeks in thick lines.

This was the second murder she had to witness in a week. And it wasn’t getting any easier.

Was this supposed to be a farce? A mockery of everything pure and clean?

Marinette looked and Adrien, only to see him covering his eyes with his hand as he sobbed.

Everyday, she felt more and more helpless. But this took the cake.

The chairs in the room rearranged and tables were brought in. She and Adrien were sat alone together at a little table, while everyone else gathered around. Then, the smell of food wafted through the air, and Marinette’s stomach twisted.

The body of the dead officiant was right there, his soulless eyes looking up at her.

The food came. Dishes passed between the men, drinks being refilled and clanged together.

No one brought anything to the sordid couple.

Salo stood, raising a wine glass. “I’d like to make a toast.”

The laughter settled down.

“To Ladybug and Chat Noir. May their last hours together be pleasurable and full of love.”

The words settled on Marinette’s shoulders heavily, making the floor feel like it was opening up beneath her.

Their last hours together?

She looked to Adrien, seeing his face full of panic as well.

“What do you mean by that?” Marinette asked.

But Salo didn’t answer, and the party continued without them.

They sat alone at the sweet heart table, the difference in the attitude of the room being palpable. The door to freedom was just on the other side of the buffet table of burly, well armed men. A perfect wall.

Adrien lifted his dead arm onto the table, looking at the branding on his hand. He gave a little smile, and confessed, “If I had to be branded with anyone’s name, I’m glad it was yours.”

Marinette mimicked him, setting her hand next to his. “Me too.”

He reached up and swiped some of the paint off her cheek. “I miss your face. You were hiding behind a mask all this time, and now you’re hiding again.”

“I want to take it off. I look so ugly.”

He shook his head. “It’s impossible for you to look ugly. Even with bad makeup.”

She took hold of his hand that rested on her cheek, and brought it to her lips to kiss, leaving some red paint behind.

Salo stood again, her chair scraping on the cement.

Marinette clenched her eyes shut and held his hand tightly. She didn’t want to be separated from him. Not now, not ever.

“I think it’s time for our lovely couple to go on their honeymoon! What do you fellas think?”

Of course, there was a drunken cheer that hurt the ears.

Two people each grabbed them, and hauled them down the hall. This time, they were led past their normal room, and into a closet. It couldn’t have been more than three or four feet wide on each side, and with both of them in there at the same time, space was limited.

Salo was giggling like a schoolgirl. “Now, have fun you two! We’ve got plenty of cameras and mics in here, so make sure you put on a good show for everyone at home!”

With that, the door slammed shut, and the laughter on the other side faded.

“Adrien…I…I can’t.”

“No, don’t worry about that. I would never make you…” He felt along the walls. “Here, let’s sit.”

He sat down first, and then pulled her to sit on his lap, their skin pressed against each other.

“Are you comfortable?” She asked, shifting.

“As much as I can be. Don’t move like that, please.”

Her face tinged pink. She leaned back against the wall, and just tried to allow herself to breathe.

Adrien’s good hand wondered over her back and shoulders, absently. She was sure if she asked him to stop, he would have, but she didn’t want him to.

“We’re not going to do what Salo wants us to do in here,” he said with finality. “I’m not ready for that.”

Marinette breathed a sigh in relief.

“But…I would like to hold you.” He whispered.

Marinette turned to lean into him. “I want you to hold me.”

She arranged his bum arm to rest on her legs while his other arm wrapped around her waist and held her tighter.

“So…” he began, “I’m the ‘other boy’ right? The one you kept rejecting me for?”

She scoffed. “You just figured that out?”

“Yeah well, it just hit me. I asked you how long you’d been in love with me for, and you said since that day in the rain…”

She ran her hand up his arm. “We really are stupid, aren’t we? If…if I had just agreed to let us share our identities…”

“No.” He said, a bit forceful. “You were smart on having us keep them to ourselves. Look at us now. Everyone knows who we are, and…” He rested his head against hers, as a way of ending the thought. “I’m just happy I have you now. I love you so much, Mari.”

“I love you too,” she whispered back.

This was cruel and unusual. Adrien was finally in love with her.

And this was the last time she see him for a while. Maybe ever.

The closet they were in was much too dark. A scant bit of light leaked in through the bottom of the door, but that wasn’t enough to see him.

“Can…can I kiss you? Properly this time?”

She took his face in her hands. “Please.”

This kiss felt much better. Prompted on their own, in their own world, despite the threat of cameras. It was soft and sweet, and everything she wanted in a first kiss.

Though it didn’t come first, this is the one she counted.

When they broke apart, he leaned his forehead on hers.

Timidly, she pushed some hair behind her ear. “I…I dreamt about marrying you. You know? I had the whole ceremony planned out.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“Would you tell me about it?”

She blinked with a blush, not expecting such an intimate question. “Well...” she swallowed. “I was expecting my father to walk me down the aisle. And for my mother to help me put on my dress.”

“One that you designed?” He asked, his voice soft and eyes closed, like he was trying to imagine it.

“Yeah.”

“What would it look like?”

She smiled slightly, picturing the drawing she had in her sketchbook. “A soft rose pink. Made of silk, with lace sleeves. I want to honor my heritage by embroidering a rose gold phoenix on the skirts.”

“That’s a really nice touch,” he hummed. “You’d look beautiful in it.”

She blushed again, ducking her head to lay on his shoulder.

“What about the ceremony? Where would it take place?”

“A chateau in Giverny. Where we can get married out in the gardens, under a wisteria tree. I just want lots and lots of flowers.”

“I like that idea. Certainly better than mine.”

She giggled. “You had a wedding plan?”

“Every bit of it. Even down to the color of the napkins.”

“Then pray tell, what does our wedding look like to you?”

“Well, it was going to be in Notre Dame…and then I had to change it to Chartres Cathedral.”

“I could get behind a Cathedral.”

“It’s so beautiful in there, My Lady. The gothic architecture and the stain glass windows. It’s like a castle, fit for a princess.”

“Do they allow cats in cathedrals?” She joked.

“Rude.”

“What kind of cake?”

At the same time, they said, “Vanilla Raspberry delight from the Dupain-Cheng Boulangerie Patisserie!” They laughed together.

“And what about the honeymoon?” He asked, “We can go anywhere in the whole wide world. Where do you want to go?”

She was quiet for moment, thinking. “Have you ever seen ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’?”

“Every Christmas.”

“I like the scene, where George and Mary loan out all of their money to the people in town, so Mary goes back to the abandoned mansion and makes a resort just for them. With posters of all the places they wanted to go, and a little dinner. And then they kiss to the sound of the rain, and Bert and Ernie singing ‘I love you truly, truly dear’.”

“That part always makes me cry.” He admitted.

“My point, is that it doesn’t matter where we go, as long as I can be with you.”

He kissed her forehead. “In that case, let’s get a sailboat. Sail the world. At night, we’ll be just a silhouette surrounded by a myriad of stars. Spend our nights on the glassy water, where you can't tell where the sky begins and ends. Just the two of us, free to go wherever we want.”

“That just sounds too good to pass on. You promise? We can do that?”

“When we’re out of here, we’ll have our perfect wedding. And then we’ll go, and never look back.”

#miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #ladybug #Marinette #adrien #adrienette #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #chat noir #fanfic #longest night

28 notes · View notes

jawnjendes · 5 years

Text

shawn meets... | bella

SUMMARY: in the life of a rockstar, shawn mendes comes across some unique people. sometimes, things stray from the norm. (AU, shawn x every one of my oc’s)

AN: hiiii this is somewhat of a continuation of my last series, goth gf. you dont HAVE to read it to know what's happening here, but there will be references to it every so often. if you've been here since the goth gf days then, hi. i appreciate you. enjoy this shit. let me know ur thots.

****let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

bella's origin story | bella's playlist | masterlist

It felt awfully strange to be in Annalise's hometown, knowing she wouldn't be going home right away. The residential part of North Hollywood where her parents lived still felt like it was a million miles away. The glamorous Lyft Lux was going through the equally glamorous parts of the city, and it was almost mundane despite the fact that she had been away for over a year.

Shawn and his younger sister, Aaliyah, were frequently pointing out the exciting things they had only seen in photos and movies: the Chinese Theater, the Walk of Fame, the Hollywood sign. They were bundles of energy and excitement. Annalise was only jittery because she never fully processed that she lives in the same city as her favorite YouTuber, Bella Santiago.

Over a month ago, Bella discovered the Shawn Mendes profile on Spotify, causing her to give him a shoutout on Twitter. Then, just after the release of his newest EP, In My Blood, Bella messaged Shawn, offering to fly him out to LA, put him in a hotel and make a video with her. Shawn immediately jumped at the chance, but he couldn't go without bringing two of the biggest Bella stans he knew, Annalise and Aaliyah. The only reason why it took until the New Year for this to happen was simple: exams and Christmas.

When the semester ended, Annalise spent the holidays and her 22nd birthday with Shawn's family in Pickering, much to her own family's disdain. It was different, celebrating Christmas on the morning of the 25th, rather than the 24th. It was also different not eating tamales or pozole like she did with her family. It totally wasn't annoying when Shawn blasted that god awful Taylor Swift song on the morning of Annalise's birthday. She totally didn't miss her family either.

She had to promise her parents that she would stay in LA for the duration of the holiday break in return for missing all the important holidays. It wasn't a hard decision to make, but it was going to be hard letting Shawn go. Annalise only hoped that there would be time for him to meet her extended family during this trip. From what she understood, as soon as Bella was done with him, Shawn and Aaliyah were getting on a plane straight back to Toronto.

As it turns out, Bella Santiago is insanely generous. She reserved the three of them a deluxe suite at the Marriott. They had a view of the city, a massive king size bed, and a pull out sofa bed. Everything was spotless, and luxurious.

"She didn't have to go this hard," Aaliyah pointed out as she tossed her suitcase to the side.

"What, would you rather sleep on the floor?" Shawn teased. "And pick that up and move it so it's out of the way!"

She rolled her eyes as she did what he said.

Annalise made herself comfortable on top of the white sheets. While all of this was exciting, she was fucking exhausted. It felt like it was much later in the day, having gotten up at seven. The time change made it feel like it was well in the afternoon, but it was barely eleven.

"How's your tummy?" Shawn asked from the window. He had his phone out and was taking photos of the view.

"Much better," she replied.

Against her better judgment, Annalise had a coffee during the five hour flight, and it did not agree with her. She made good friends with a barf bag… or three. All the caffeine must have left her system if she was feeling better now.

"What time do we meet Bella?" asked Aaliyah, padding over to stand by her brother.

"Three o'clock," Shawn replied. "In the ballroom downstairs."

That prompted all three of them to take a death nap for the time being. It only lasted about three hours, and when their alarms went off, none of them felt any more rested.

Annalise was the first one to actually get up and get ready. For once, she was intimidated by who she was going to be standing in front of today. She had to look her best, even if it was in all black.

It didn't take long for Aaliyah to follow suit. Soon enough, both girls were sitting in front of the window, using the California sun for their light as they did their makeup.

The funny thing is, as much as they cared about looking their best, neither of them were going to be in Bella's video. She only wanted Shawn, who was still lying in bed half an hour before the scheduled meet up.

"What are you gonna wear?" Annalise asked her boyfriend.

"I don't know," he replied, his voice muffled by the pillow. "Will she even care about what I'm wearing?"

"You're gonna be on her channel," Aaliyah said, looking up from her handheld mirror, "which has millions of viewers, including some of my friends who will never let me hear the end of it if they see my brother looking like a clown in front of the queen!"

Shawn grinned and got up. "I'll go like this, what do you think?" He held his arms out, showcasing his plaid pajama bottoms and a Nike hoodie. He also only had one sock on.

"You'll be dead before you step out of the room like that," Ann darkly added.

“Thanks Satan.” He chuckled.

Shawn was only pretending to be calm. Inside, he was shaking and his insides were heavy. He didn't even think about Bella's subscriber count until Aaliyah pointed it out. He really wanted Bella to like him too. She seemed like such a sweetheart from her videos, Shawn hoped that wasn't just a persona.

He had spent most of the flight watching her videos (when Ann wasn’t puking up her caffeine, of course.) He made it through a few tutorials, learning a lot about not only makeup, but Bella herself. She suffers from several anxiety disorders and constantly works to better herself. She left her parents when she came out to them as bisexual, and she hasn't spoke to them or her extended family in years. She recently got out of a relationship with another YouTuber named Ethan Nestor, which was part of the reason why she spent half of 2019 in her hometown of Palm Springs. This woman has some thick skin, there was no denying that.

One of the best things that Shawn learned about Bella was that she had a butterfly tattoo on her left arm. In another video, she talked about how her viewers drew butterflies on their arms in support of her when she was down. She got it tattooed for them, and the colors of the wings were the same as the bisexual pride flag. Shawn looked at his own butterfly tattoo differently now.

The other best thing he learned was how talented of a singer Bella was. She had covers on her channel, and Shawn watched every single one. Bella had such a rich, beautiful voice, and it looked so easy for her to hit any high note. She sang Love on the Brain without any strain on her face. She sang a gayer version of You Belong with Me, and played guitar with it. She sang with Markiplier as the opening act when they were on a comedy show tour in 2018.

Shawn couldn't wait to sing with her, though he was intimidated. He thought he was a good singer, but put him next to someone with Ariana Grande levels of talent? The nerves were never ending.

It was ten til three when everyone was ready. Their only predicament was to go down to the ballroom early or not.

“Did she text you?” Aaliyah asked, clearly antsy. “Is she on her way or anything?”

Shawn shook his head. He had changed into a white tee, black jeans and a denim jacket, which the two girls approved of. “Should I message her? Or… her manager? She’s the one who made all these arrangements.”

“Hey, she might not even be here on time,” Ann said. “YouTubers are like celebrities. They run on their own schedules just because they can.”

“Bella wouldn’t do that, would she?” Aaliyah said in disbelief.

“Only one way to find out.”

And to the ballroom they went. The space was huge, clearly meant for a party. There were sheer white curtains hanging from the huge windows, and a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. In the far corner of the room, tables and chairs were folded and leaning against the wall. Shawn, Aaliyah, and Ann looked around the room, all silently nervous and excited. Only a few minutes into it, they heard female voices just outside the room.

“But we’re always early! I knew I should have driven myself!”

“It’s two fifty-nine! Relax, they’re probably not even here yet!”

“Huh, I’ll be damned,” Ann mumbled, looking at her phone to verify the time.

The owners of the other two voices entered the room, carrying expensive-looking camera equipment and studio lights. They were followed by a bellhop, who was carrying a keyboard in a case. One woman was short and curvy, brown and freckled. Her short black hair was curly and glossed down, and she was wearing a bright red pantsuit.

The other woman was long and lean, decked out in a white long sleeve crop top, a black skirt, and knee high boots. Her iconic bright pink hair made a comeback, that wasn’t in her latest video. Her kind face looked airbrushed and flawless, although her brown eyes looked alarmed, like she was caught in headlights.

The first person to break the silence was the woman in red, already establishing her power. “Hello!” She held her hand out to Shawn. “I’m Sonji, I’m Bella’s manager. I believe we spoke on the phone. And on Twitter.”

“Yeah, yeah we did,” he said as they shook hands. “Uh, this Aaliyah and Ann, my sister and my girlfriend.”

“Hi, ladies!” Sonji greeted, shaking their hands as well. “So lovely to meet you! God, you’re all so pretty!”

Both girls mumbled shy thank you’s.

“Okay, so my handsome friend here and myself are going to set things up for the video,” Sonji explained. “In the meantime-” She looked at her silent client. “-Baller, come talk to your little protégé.”

Then, Sonji led the bellhop further into the room, over by the windows.

Bella still had a bag slung over her shoulder and a massive studio light stand in her hands. She was clutching it to her chest, a very performative and awkward smile etched on her bright pink lips.

“Hi!” she said after one very long second. “Uh - lemme -” She set down the giant lights and removed the bag from her shoulder. Then she stood up straight and smoothed out her hair. “Hi! Uh, I said that already!”

“I’ll say it again! Hi!” Shawn greeted, smiling politely.

Bella looked at him and opened her arms for a hug. “It’s nice to finally meet you!”

It might be weird to put it this way, but she smelled pretty. Whatever perfume she was wearing was probably more expensive than the flight over here. Shawn hugged her around her shoulders, inadvertently touching her surprisingly soft hair. You could just tell that she didn’t spare a single penny when it came to caring for herself.

“Wow, I wasn’t expecting you to be so tall!” she said, looking up at Shawn. “For once, I’m not the tallest person in the room!”

She couldn’t have been taller than Ann, who was five foot five inches and felt very short most of the time.

“And this is the sister and the girlfriend?” Bella said, turning to the other two girls. She went to hug Aaliyah, who was more than delighted by the gesture.

Bella leaned back and took her hand. “I love your nails! Love the shape and color!” She ran her thumb over the white acrylics. “So cute!”

“Aw, thank you!” Aaliyah was beaming.

Then, Bella turned to hug Ann. It’s important to point out that in most situations, Annalise Flores is stone faced, calm, and collected. Today, however, Ann had wide eyes, like she was face the good Lord herself… like she was going to drop down on one knee and propose to Bella.

Shawn wouldn’t blame her.

“Me encanta su delineador!” Bella told her, gently cupping her face.

“En serio?” Ann softly asked.

“Yes, que linda! Those inner wings are to die for! What do you use?”

“Um.. uh, I think it’s NYX? I don’t know the exact one, but it’s definitely NYX!” Ann chuckled nervously.

“Well, it looks amazing!”

Ann looked like she was going to faint with that euphoric dazed look on her face. Thankfully, she stayed on both feet because Sonji grabbed their attention. She managed to sneak by Bella, take the lights and bag, and set them all up by the window. She also set up the keyboard, camera and two chairs. There were three other chairs behind the camera as well. Sonji was incredibly fast.

“We are all ready to go!” she said to the others.

“Shall we?” Bella gestured for the other three to go first.

Shawn, Ann, and Aaliyah went over to the set up, excitement only increasing from here.

"Were you two going to be in the video too?" Sonji asked the two girls.

They both shook their heads.

"Nervous? Don't blame you, the Internet is brutal."

That didn't help Shawn's bundle of nerves. He took a silent deep breath as he went for his guitar case while Bella sat in front of her keyboard. The Internet is brutal, and Shawn's own minuscule corner of it was safe solely because of the size. The fans he tweeted every so often were seemingly normal, and no one was overly critical about him or his music. More exposure means more space for criticism and plain old hate.

Bella had over five million subscribers, and at least forty thousand of them took an interest in Shawn over the last month and a half. It was a lot of new people to make a good impression to. He took another deep breath and removed the guitar from its case. There's no going back now.

"So, I don't want this to be a structured, planned out video," Bella explained when Shawn took the empty chair next to her. "I just want us to talk so my viewers can get to know you, and we'll sing whatever comes to mind."

"Sounds good," Shawn said, not really hearing himself.

"Now everybody - and I mean everybody - take in a deep breath."

The room was silent except for the sounds of everyone inhaling through their noses. Aaliyah and Ann still looked excited as they followed Bella's instruction. Sonji followed as well, like she had done this a thousand times.

"And exhale," Bella breathed out, and the others repeated. "Good. Get those nerves out, breathe away the anxiety. This is fun, we're having fun."

Shawn felt a little better, knowing she was just as nervous, if not more. Throughout all of Bella's mental health videos that he watched on the plane, none of them seemed to touch on how severe her own case was.

Finally, Bella addressed the camera, her soft voice suddenly projected. "Hey, it's Bella! Welcome back to my channel! Today, I'm here with a very special guest! Some of you saw me tweet a while ago…"

Oh god, what the fuck was Shawn going to say? He looked over at Ann, who smiled reassuringly and silently did the motions for deep breathing. Stay calm. You're a strong guy.

"So how long have you been making music?" Bella asked him as she mindlessly pressed keys on her keyboard.

Shawn recalled as best he could. "Uh, I sang covers when I was fifteen. Didn't make my own music until a few years later."

"Nice! Are you in school, or work or something?"

"Yeah, I'm in college. I'm majoring in music and botany."

"Oh, you like plants?"

Shawn was mildly impressed. Most people had to ask what botany is, and he would have to explain for the thousandth time. Then, he would be told to drop the music major because it's easier to find a job in plant science.

"Flowers," he clarified. "I work in a flower shop."

"That's so cool!"

The conversation got easier as time went on. Sometimes Aaliyah or Ann would chime in if they felt that Shawn was getting too confident. Bella giggled every so often, which made everyone in the room adore her even more.

Shawn was about ready to propose when Bella started playing Mercy on her keyboard and humming the beginning. He stared at her in shock for a few seconds before he played along on guitar. Hopefully that didn't look too embarrassing on camera. He listened to her voice for a moment before singing with her in the chorus.

He had plenty of questions for Bella after they went through that song. "Where did you get a voice like that?"

"I could carry a tune as a kid," she explained, "so I was put into singing classes to hone it. Then I did church choir, school choir… I just never really stopped singing." She paused and then chuckled nervously. "This is gonna sound pretentious, but I think I got this voice for a reason. Meaning, I have this platform and all these followers. I think I'm meant to use my voice for good. Help people in whatever way I can."

Shawn smiled. "That's beautiful. I see that in your videos. I kinda went on a binge on the plane."

Bella grinned.

"One thing that stood out to me…" Shawn hesitated, minding the camera and the future viewers of this video. "You are so unapologetically bisexual. You always make the point to the person you needed as a kid, because there is still so little bi representation in the media. And you decided, if no one's going to do it, then you'll do it yourself, and I think that's incredible."

"Yeah, I didn't have anyone telling me it's okay to feel what I feel, and I don't want anyone to go through what I went through as a teen."

Shawn nodded, glancing over at Ann once. He had talked about touching on this particular topic with her, and he was starting to have his own shred of doubt.

But, he learned from his girlfriend. Fuck it.

"I wish I had someone like you as a teenager," he said to Bella, strumming his guitar. "I mean, when I came out to my family, I was lucky. They were loving and accepting, but I still couldn't find anyone out there who was like me, in real life or in the media. I really wish I had found your videos sooner."

Bella was beaming. "I knew I liked you."

The two of them went back and forth between talking and singing. They compared butterfly tattoos, and then Bella was asking him about his other tats. Shawn learned a couple of Little Mix songs too, which led him to discover where his girlfriend got that fixation from. He was mostly amazed at how Bella was able to belt out song after song like it was nothing. Like she was meant for this. Why did she choose to be a makeup artist?

"Have you ever been offered a record deal?" Shawn asked. "Or thought about making your own music?"

"Mm, yes and yes," she said. "But singing is more of a hobby. I can't see myself delving into the music industry at all. Makeup is where it's at for me. Makeup got me through some of the hardest times in my life."

Shawn wouldn't say no to a record deal. He'd move to Los Angeles tomorrow if he could. He would do just about anything to play music full time. He glanced over at Ann again, who winked with a smile.

next chapter

_______

taglist: @normalcyisoverrated-beyou @justordinaryjen @chillingbythesea @iloveshawnieboi @shawnsunflower @someoneunimportantxx

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes smut #shawn x oc #shawn meets fic #ok ok ok so theres 5 oc's total #bella is just the first n i lov her lil nervous ass sm #i wanted to bring her back for somethin like this bc i missed her n her story #and sonji is actually god herself yes its true #this wont be the last you see of either of them #if anyone wants to know more abt bella pls shoot me an ask!#next chapter is gonna be a doozy

35 notes · View notes