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freddiesaysalright · 6 years ago

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My Man Part IV

A Ben!Roger Taylor x Reader Fic

Summary: Reader is a Broadway actress currently starring in a West End production of Funny Girl. She’s a widow, thanks to the Vietnam War, but it’s a well-kept secret. She also wants everyone to think she doesn’t care for rock music. She met Roger Taylor when he brought his date backstage. They didn’t start off great, but a party at Freddie’s turned them around. Now, they’re friends.

Word Count: 2.1K

Tag List: @bohemian-war @kittygirlno @rebelrebelyourefaceisamess @rockyroadthepastryarchy @goodoldfashionedloverboyy @jennyggggrrr @discodeacygotmorerhythm @x1975sos If you’d like to be added, let me know!

Part I Part II Part III

Over the coming weeks, your time with Roger became as sacred to you as the hours you were on stage each night. He was so open and fun and passionate, and he brought that out of you whether you realized it or not. In the years after losing George, you became a ghost. A shadow of a woman who went through the motions. You only showed energy on stage. With Roger, you were alive. You were an active participant in your spirit flourishing. Even Gary told you that your Fanny Brice was improved. You sang more soulfully, your jokes hit harder, and your tears meant more.

You could not place when exactly Roger had done this for you. But you guessed it was the slow chipping away at the wall around your heart. It had taken years to build. Now came this idiot drummer with a good smile and wicked humor. It made you incredibly happy but more conflicted than ever.

You could not deny your attraction to him after that first of several erotic dreams about him. Even when you were awake and he touched your arm or hugged you, you thought about what it would be like. Not only to make love to him, but to be his. To give him your heart completely.

Then you remembered George. True, it had been years, but he was the only man you’d ever been with. And you thought the love you shared with him was once in a lifetime. When he died, you told yourself there was no way you could ever feel that again. But with Roger, you felt the butterflies and the happiness. It was less hopeful than with George, since you were terrified of being hurt more than ever. Your heart was beaten and battered and you did not think you could take it if you lost Roger too. All the emotions would hit you at once and you’d get so overwhelmed. Weirdly enough, the person to calm you down was always Roger.

You also hung out with the band a lot. They were always popping over to each others’ places and spending time, even outside the studio. It was very sweet.

One day, you were at Roger’s and he was playing around on the drums. You liked to watch him play because his focus was incredible. You got to see how seriously he took his craft. It reminded you of all your late nights going over lines or pushing your voice to hit a note just once more. You had never realized how much went into drumming before.

“How do you do that?” you wondered aloud.

He stopped. “Do what?”

“Look so effortlessly talented.”

His brow furrowed. “Are you joking?”

“No!” you assured him. “You just make it look so easy.”

“It’s not,” he replied, smiling a little. “But don’t you think you do the same thing?”

“I don’t look like I’m having nearly as much fun,” you said.

“I disagree.”

“Could you teach me?” you asked suddenly.

His face lit up like the Fourth of July. “Hell yeah!”

He beckoned you over and let you take a seat behind the drum set. He stood behind you and guided you through a couple beats from Queen songs. You struggled through it, often doing the same thing with both hands.

Chuckling, he said, “Let me help you.”

He wrapped his hands around yours and moved them for you, slowly. His touch was soft and warm and you could feel his breath on your neck as he leaned over you. It sent a shiver down your spine.

Then he watched you attempt it again. You couldn’t help but notice the way he bit his lip watching you play. After a few more tries, you got it on your own.

“I nailed it!” you cried, excitedly. “But seriously, I don’t know how you do this.”

“Years of practice,” he returned. “Just like you, I expect.”

“That’s true.”

“Can you teach me something?” he asked, a sly look on his face.

“What could I possibly teach you?” you returned.

“Teach me to dance,” he said.

“I suppose I can try,” you agreed. “Move the couch back and I’ll move the coffee table.”

You did so, and it left ample space for the pair of you. He met you in the center of the room, and you were barely a foot from one another. You moved to adjust his arms for his frame before coming to stand in front of him again.

“Have you ever done the foxtrot?” you asked.

“Never in my life,” he told you.

“Okay,” you said with a laugh. “It’s not too difficult, I swear.”

You showed him the basic steps; what to do on which count and how to hold his frame. You felt a bit flushed at times when he was holding you so close. You took a turn about the room, and he finished with dipping you, causing you to laugh.

“Very good!” you praised as he led you upright again.

“Have I swept you off your feet?” he teased.

You rolled your eyes.

“I’ll just have to keep working on it then,” he said.

“Let’s put the furniture back,” you said.

Just when his living room was returned to its usual state, the door burst open. In walked Freddie, John, and Brian. They looked at Roger expectantly.

“What is it, guys?” he asked.

“Did either of you read the latest issue of In Tune?” Brian asked.

In Tune was a gossip magazine specifically about musicians. It was generally considered garbage, and yet they still sold out on shelves. Even a fake scandal was better than nothing, apparently.

“No,” you answered. “My eyes happen to be attached to my brain.”

Roger sniggered. John tossed you the magazine.

“You two made the front page,” he said.

“What?!” you gasped, looking at the cover.

It was true. There was a photo of you and Roger leaving a movie theater. The headline read, “Roger Taylor’s New Flame! A Secret Wedding?” In the corner, they had placed a close up of your left hand where your wedding ring was visible.

“Alright, Y/N, front page!” Roger joked, offering his hand for a high five.

You gave it to him, grinning. “Tony’s be damned, this is the greatest accomplishment of my life!”

They all laughed.

“How did you find this?” you asked.

“Saw it on the news stand,” Brian explained.

“I was just so thrilled they weren’t talking about me for once,” Freddie added.

“Did you read the article?” you wondered.

“No, we figured we’d wait and share that with you,” Freddie said.

You checked the cover and saw that the story was on page thirteen. Eagerly, you flipped to it and began to read aloud; “Roger Taylor, drummer for the infamous rock band Queen, was spotted coming out of a London cinema with a mystery lady last weekend. We suspect the pair eloped and have been together for months, as Taylor has not been seen in public with the usual amount of bimbos around him - now, that’s rude - for several weeks. Also, the new woman wears a plain band on her left ring finger. Could it be the playboy drummer has settled down at last? We intend to find out more! - Ugh it just goes on about women you’ve taken out before.”

“Do they really not know you’re the star of a West End show?” John wondered, taking the magazine and scanning it. “That seems rather ignorant.”

“That’s In Tune for you,” you said. “All about the rock stars and disco divas. Nothing about us poor, untalented Broadway performers.”

“It does mention you were seeing Grease,” John pointed out.

“Well, that is vital information,” Brian said.

Freddie looked at Roger. “Really? Grease?”

“She likes musicals!” Roger returned indignantly. “Also it was a cheap, late night showing.”

“A right Prince Charming, you are,” Brian remarked.

“Shut up,” Roger retorted.

“Really, you’d think you could splurge for the new Mrs,” you chimed in.

“Alright, next time I’ll take you to Paris,” he said. “How’s that for romance?”

“Can we still go see Grease though?” you said through a laugh.

“Sorry, but John Travolta’s head is too large for his body and it freaks me out,” he replied.

You giggled. “What the hell?”

“It’s just a thing,” he said with a shrug.

“My darlings, we’ve got to be at the studio,” Freddie interrupted. “We’re already late.”

“Only ‘cause we picked you up first,” John said.

Freddie grinned and then looked at you. “Would you like to come along?”

You shook your head. “I’ve got to get home before I head to the theater.”

“Want me to walk you home, Y/N?” Roger offered.

“No, thanks, I can make it,” you said.

“Have a good show,” he told you.

“Break a leg, darling,” Freddie said. “And come have dinner with us when it’s over.”

“You’ve got it, Mr. Mercury,” you promised.

You left after hugging them all. As you walked, you reflected. Each time you left Roger, your guilt subsided a little. You felt lighter than air as you entered your own flat. But your thoughts were interrupted when your phone rang.

“Hello?” you answered.

“Y/N,” the voice on the other end of the line was your agent, Stephen. “Are you busy?”

“Not at all, what’s up?” you asked.

“I’ve got incredible news for you,” he said. “There’s a production of Oklahoma in the works for here on West End, and the director is in town today. He called me and asked if you’d be willing to try for the part of Laurie!”

You nearly dropped your phone. Laurie was your dream role. The one that made you want to be an actress in the first place.

“You still there?” he asked.

“Yes,” you said, a little breathless. “I’m just - you know how I feel about that role!”

“I do, dear!” he returned. “I’m so excited for you! Can you meet him tomorrow at his hotel room?”

You froze. Meeting a stranger at his hotel room seemed odd. It was far from professional. You normally met a director or producer at a theater if they didn’t have an office.

“Is everything okay?” Stephen asked. “I know it’s a bit unorthodox, but he’s heading to America in three days to meet with the guy he wants for Curly. If you want me to tell him you can’t - ”

“Don’t be silly, I’ll go there,” you said, trying to sound more easy about it than you were.

“Great, I’ll let him know,” he said. “He wants to meet at two.”

He gave you the address and you wrote it down. You thanked Stephen and when you hung up, you squealed.

“I’m going to be Laurie!” you cried, pumping your fist in the air.

Later that night, you met up with Roger and the guys for dinner like you promised. As soon as you got to the restaurant, you ran to Roger and leapt into his arms. He spun you around and kissed your cheek.

“What’s got into you?” he wondered.

“I got the best news before the show tonight,” you said.

You explained to them what your agent said and they congratulated you. Roger was silent, though.

“What?” you asked.

“I don’t like the idea of you meeting him in a hotel room,” he said. “It’s sketchy.”

“Come on, Rog, you heard what she said,” Brian said, comfortingly. “It’s an unusual circumstance. I’m sure they’ll meet again properly, but she’s got to get her foot in the door.”

“Thank you, Mr. May,” you said, and then turned back to Roger. “Can’t you just be supportive?”

He frowned but agreed. “Of course. Congrats, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” you returned, but the tension remained the rest of the night.

When dinner was over, Roger did walk you home. As you fell in step beside him, his silence made you crazy. It felt childish but you refused to be the first one to speak. If he had a problem with how you handled your career, that was on him. You had nothing to apologize for.

“Can I see that address again?” he said, coming to an abrupt stop.

It was an odd way to begin an apology, but you obliged. You fetched the slip of paper from your bag and handed it to him.

“This is right around the corner from the studio,” he said. “Will you come by afterward and tell me how it goes?”

You beamed. “Of course I will!”

“Wonderful,” he returned and then gave you the directions. “You will be careful, won’t you?”

“You know me,” you said. “I’m always careful. Plus, I’m a grown woman. I don’t need protecting. Okay?”

With an irritated sigh he said, “Okay.”

“Thank you,” you returned. “Now, get me home, I’m getting cold.”

He didn’t reply, but took you under his arm for the rest of the walk.

#queen #roger taylor x reader #ben hardy x reader #ben!roger x reader #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #ben hardy #ben!roger taylor #ben!roger imagine #roger taylor #roger taylor x you #queen fanfic #queen imagine #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #rami malek #gwilym lee #joe mazzello

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maximows · 6 years ago

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Against the Odds - Chapter VII

Love you, Wifey,

MASTERLIST (mobile) AO3

Warnings: pure smut (right at the end), lil’ ass play, fluff, alcohol, drinking, honestly the smut scene it like two pages long

After 3 hours in the make-up chair, I was 100% positive my hair was going to fall out within the next week. Since I was blonde now, I had agreed to have it dyed to Wanda’s hair colour instead of using a wig. We were filming mostly in Atlanta and it’s May, so I just didn’t want another layer of silicone on me. Instead, I had to go through hair-dying two times, because they didn’t get to colour right the first time.

Dodger was sleeping on the couch in the corner of my trailer with a fan running directly on him, like a true diva. Chris has been shooting since early in the morning and he was already gone when I woke up, so the dog spent pretty much all the time with me.

I haven’t been feeling very well for the last few days. It was my first shooting day, but I came here with Chris a couple of days ago, because he started shooting earlier and I had some screen tests. I’ve been having some mild headaches during the day, which could turn into nearly unbearable ones in the evening. I’ve also been experiencing some sickness and was barely able to keep anything down, unless it was something very light.

They didn’t want to blow-dry my hair, because it makes it fuzzy, so I got to have a lunch break. Dodger followed me out and we went to Downey’s trailer. Robert had invited me for lunch earlier and I couldn’t say no, because he always has the nicest food on set and it doesn’t make me sick as much.

“Oh, hello, my brown-haired beauty!” he exclaimed when I was nearing his village. “I thought you’d never come.”

I approached him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’m sorry, Rob. They messed up my hair and had to do it all over again.”

“It’s fine, nobody shows up on time anyway,” he said and laid out a water bowl for Dodger. Dodger is now the official set pet. “Help yourself, honey. We have everything you like.”

I grabbed a chicken salad and sat at the table with Robert. “Who’s coming today?” I asked, stuffing the delicious food into my mouth.

“Well, Mackie should be here soon, Evans and Scarlett when they finish their scenes, Emily, as in VanCamp,” he saw my face, when he mentioned the last person. “I know you don’t love her, but...”

“It’s not that I don’t love her, I just don’t like being around people who say that I stole their role, because I slept with someone.” I said and took a sip of my smoothie.

“You’ve gotten feistier since I last saw you.” Rob chucked. “Is everything alright?”

I scratched Dodger’s head and sighed. “You’re not only our main feeder, but also a therapist,” I smiled. “Chris and I are having a bit of a rough time, I think. We, um, we bought that house together, then went on the Age of Ultron press tour together, now we’re filming this and we also agreed to do another movie together... It just started to seem like we are just trapped together. Well, he says that.”

“How is that a problem? Evans can’t stop talking about you when you’re not around and suddenly he feels like he’s in a trap?” Rob asked. “Honestly, I’ve known the guy for a few years now and you’re his longest relationship, so maybe it’s just his odd way of getting used to commitment or something.”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I try not to think about it, to be honest. He was talking about engagement like 3 months ago, so I figured it’s not commitment he’s uncomfortable with. Anyway, he’s been taking care of me now that I’m sick.”

“Give him a break, love. He’s a Gemini.” Robert nodded and turned around to see Anthony walk in, still wearing his suit.

“I hate this city, I hate this city,” he kept repeating under his breath. “Do ya’ll have any ice I can eat?” He sat back on a chair and sighed loudly.

“Have any one of you had any scenes today?” he asked. “Because it’s fucking hot out in the sun and I wouldn’t let my worst enemy work in that heat.”

While Mackie was complaining, Emily joined us and sat on the other side of the table. Our relations have been very, very tense, since I found out what he has been talking about me. She was stupid enough to spread those things amongst people who knew me.

So. I oncereceived a text from Aaron. “I didn’t know you were already dating Chris at that party at his place in February”

It was just a casual text, he basically wanted to express his shock, when he found out we were appearently already a couple at that time.

“We weren’t. We met that night. Who told you that?” I replied.

“Emily VanCamp is working on a movie with Sam and she told her, and I quote ‘I actually almost got to work on a movie with your husband too, but Emilia Dawson started to magically date Chris Evans right when the auditions started and suddenly I lost the job.’”

What a fucking bitch, I thought. To be honest, I had no idea she auditioned for my role. I got an invitation to audition, but the process was incredibly fast and I figured they considered me to be the only candidate.

“Looks like she’s just mad I got “her" role. I hope she hasn’t been spreading those rumours around too much.”

That’s why we are not on speaking terms, but that’s alright, because her contract expires after Civil War. I’ve never been mean to anyone on set and, to be honest, I’m not mean towards her either, I just don’t speak to her. Chris was trying to talk me into solving this issue with her, but that’s not my thing to do. She should’ve just shut her mouth and thought this through.

I felt my headache kick in again, so I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. “I really hate this city.” I mumbled.

“Hey, maybe you want me to get you to an air-conditioned room?” Anthony asked. “I mean, the heat must be just making it much worse.”

“No, I’m fine. I just didn’t have to time to adjust here It’s probably just a late jet lag. I’ve never reacted well to heat.” I explained. “I already filmed one scene with Scarlett and I only have a few more takes to do today.”

Both Anthony and Robert sighed. “You’re just too stubborn.”

Because of the temperature, my hair dried out quickly, so the make-up team notified Joe and Anthony that I’m ready to work. They put me into a jacket and leather pants, which didn’t help my condition. I left Dodger with Robert, even though he didn’t really want to stay there without me. Probably because he was getting bad vibes from Emily.

Chris was waiting for me on the set. He had been doing some shots with Mackie, who was supposed to join us soon.

“Hi,” Chris wrapped his arm around me and kissed my head. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m alright,” I lied. “I’ll probably get used to the temperature in a few days and I’ll be completely fine.” I explained, pulling away from him.

“Em, you got up in the middle of the night to throw up and were covered in cold sweat when I woke up today,” he whispered. “I’m not saying it’s something serious, but you’re obviously not comfortable…”

I rolled my eyes at him and watched Joe walk up to us for instructions. We were supposed to do a few simple sequences of Wanda and Steve fighting together against Crossbones. I mainly had to do gestures with my hands and fingers, so it wasn’t very tiring. Sometimes I had to do some running and that was all. Chris kept checking on me, making sure I’m not about to faint. I wasn’t. We had a few retakes, but I was as fine as I could possibly be.

At some point, I had to wait for my turn to show up at the end of Steve and Crossbones’ fight. At first, I had to contain energy from a made up explosion with Chris and Frank in the shot. Then they left and I had a few single takes. I had been practicing my choreography a lot and my headache was helping a lot with showing actual struggle on my face.

“Okay, cut!” Anthony yelled and I felt my legs turn into jelly. I started to feel a little bit dizzy and weak. I fell down and that was the last thing I remembered.

I regained my consciousness feeling very cold air around my body. I still had a knot in my stomach and felt I could throw up any minute, but at least my head wasn’t exploding anymore. I was laying on a bed with something under my legs to keep them up.

I felt someone’s hand on my bare calf, one finger brushing over my skin. I opened my eyes slowly to see Chris sitting right next to me, doing something on his phone. There were I’ve bags around my head and stomach and I was only wearing my underwear.

“Chris?” I mumbled and he reacted instantly and came to my side along with a paramedic.

“Dawson, I’m going to kill you for ignoring your health later.” He said and I could hear concern in his voice and saw it on his face.

“Ms. Dawson, we figured it’s be better for you to rest in our medical area rather than transfer you to the hospital right away. We have some tests to run and we’ll probably hook you up to IV, but I do need to ask some questions.” The paramedic said, taking out a form.

I tried to lift myself up on my elbows, but they stopped me. “I wouldn’t do that, you’re still very weak, Miss.” She said, trying to hold me down on the bed.

She asked me a few questions about my allergies, medical history and symptoms. “How long have you been feeling unwell?”

“About 3 or 4 days probably.” I answered. “But I get a few days of headaches every year when it starts to get hot, it’s normal for me.”

“She also has been throwing up.” Chris interrupted. The woman glared at him, because he probably wasn’t supposed to get involved.

“Is that true, Ms. Dawson?” she asked me.

“Yes,” I nodded. “It happens during the night or in the morning.”

She raised her eyebrow and moved her gaze from me to Chris and to me again. “Are you on any kind of birth control?”

“Yes, I’m on pills.” I said, looking at Chris who seemed to be looking at the wall above me, because of the topic we were stepping into.

She reached to her bag and took out a pregnancy test. Why does she even have those? How often do actresses find out they’re pregnant on set?

“I need to be sure you’re not pregnant, if I’m going to put you on IV or other medication,” she explained. “Drink some water now, wait 30 minutes and then take the test.”

She left the room, leaving Chris and I silently staring at the box. He finally moved and brought me a glass of water. “It’s not possible, is it?” he asked quietly. I knew it wasn’t possible. I knew I wasn’t pregnant. I took my pills every day, 11 o’clock on the dot.

“I barely eat or drink during the day, so when I have a snack in the evening…”

“You what?” he raised his voice. “Emilia, I carried you here and I realised that you lost weight, but I didn’t know you haven’t been eating. I assumed it was because you couldn’t keep anything down.”

“Well, I couldn’t keep anything down, so I only are maybe one meal a day,” I explained. “And I know it sounds fucking stupid, but…”

“No buts!” Chris snapped “I know we haven’t been talking much lately, but I can’t believe you had to lose consciousness for almost an hour to realise that you might need a doctor. I thought that, if you never said anything maybe it wasn’t that bad.”

I sat up slowly and reached out for Chris’ hand. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “We’ve been busy here and I genuinely thought it was just heat and some bad food combined.”

He looked down at me and pulled me against him. “Don’t ever do that again, alright?” he whispered against my head. “Em, I was so scared when you collapsed. This last hour…”

“I’m better now.” I said. “I’ll take the test and she’ll give me some meds. Tomorrow we start filming indoors, so I’ll be ok.”

Chris’ eyes wandered off to look at the test. “About the test…”

“Chris, I’m not pregnant.” I stated quickly, making sure he doesn’t get his hopes up.

He chuckled. “I know, I’m not going to bring up kids until you say you’re ready.” He clarified. “I just meant to ask if it was even possible, because the morning sicknesses checked out.”

We waited a little bit more and I went to the bathroom to take the test. I set it on the sink and went back to Chris, who was texting again. “I called your mom, by the way.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I sighed. “I’m surprised she hasn’t called me yet.”

“Well, your phone’s not here, so I’ll just text her that everything’s alright and you’ll call her later.” Chris said. “By the way, I was supposed to yell at you for ignoring your health issues.”

“I get it, I’m stupid.” I snuggled into his side. “Why haven’t you been talking to me, Chris?”

Chris sighed and, even though I couldn’t see his face, I knew his mouth was slightly open and he was thinking of things to say. “You know how we signed up for over a year of working together, right?” he started and I nodded. “Well, I always thought that people in a relationship should, you know, have their own things and I thought that we would get tired of each other while living and working together.”

Looking at the fact, that not so long ago he was talking about engagement, I was really surprised by what he was worried about. “Chris, how far have you gone with your previous girlfriends? Because, if moving in together is overwhelming for you, then I can’t imagine what a wedding would feel like.”

Luckily for Chris, the paramedic came back with a doctor and he didn’t have to respond right now. They checked the test, and because it came out negative, they put me on IV for a while. It turned out that I was dehydrated (not surprising) and suffered from a light heat stroke and had a food poisoning.

I got some meds to help tone down my symptoms and then I was released. Chris and I drove back to our rented house. He then left to walk Dodger out and I sat on the sofa and phoned my Mum.

“Chris told me that you’ve been unwell for some time and did nothing about it, Emilia.” She complained. “He’s such a good guy.”

My mum talking about how she feels when she can’t be with me in moments like that and how dad reacted when she told him. I was mad about that, because I didn’t see it as such a huge thing.

Chris came back and my mum heard that, because she was on speaker. “Hello, Christopher! Thank you so much for letting me know! I would’ve have to find out from the press, if it wasn’t for you.”

I rolled my eyes at her words as Chris approached me and sat on the edge of the sofa where I was lying. “It’s alright, Mrs. Dawson. I just wish Em would take care of herself more.” He said, which made my jaw drop.

“Says the guy who smells like an ashtray.” I mumbled. “Anyway, Mum, did dad also start swooning at the mention of Chris when you told him how he took care of me today?” I asked sarcastically, pushing Chris away from me.

“No, I think he still remembers that thing he said on the late night show,” Mum said and I started to laugh so hard my stomach started to hurt again. “I mean, you guys do your own thing, but I don’t think you had to say it on television, Chris.”

I couldn’t contain my laughter, especially because he didn’t know what Mum was talking about. “I love fucking girls in the butt.” I choked out and Chris suddenly became very embarrassed.

“I didn’t know he watched my appearances on the TV,” Chris said. “Had I known, I wouldn’t have drank alcohol before the recording.”

At some point my mum had to go and we were left alone with our unfinished conversation. “So… do you want tea?”

I rolled my eyes again. “Someone’s having commitment issues…” I sang. He wrapped his arms around me and laid us down together on the sofa.

“Alright, girlfriend,” he murmured. “I have never in my life proposed to anyone, if that’s what you want to know. I’ve only once officialy bought a place with a girlfriend, the rest were just sleeping at mine from time to time.”

I raised my eyebrow and reached under his shirt to pull on his dog tag. “So I don’t get it. First you demand commitment and now you're like ‘let's spend as much time apart as we can'.”

“Well,” he sighed. “In fairness, you’re the more mentally mature one and you shouldn’t listen to the shit I say. I’ve only ever worked with one of my girlfriends and we broke up before the movie premiered. That was my only long term relationship, so thought it’s just something i shouldn't do.”

“Age of Ultron has been out for some time and doing fine, so...” I shrugged and snuggled into his chest. “I think we do have our own things anyway, so you shouldn’t be worried about that. You’re the reason I sold my flat in NY and we moved in together, so suck it up Mister. Anyway, you’re the one who’s doing only one movie after Civil War. I’m also filming a TV series in September and another movie in March, so we’ll get our dose of alone time.”

Chris chuckled and kissed my forehead. “Alright, let’s just not get on each other's nerves and we're golden.”

“Now go make me a sandwich, I’m getting hungry.” I mumbled into his chest.

“You mean a grinder?” he corrected me, pronouncing it more as ‘grindah’.

“Not this again.”

I started to take my meds regularly for a few days and I got much better. To make sure the situation doesn’t happen again, the Russos decided to film all of my indoors scenes first, so could get on with work, but also avoid a similar situation.

Chris had started to treat me more like a baby than usual. He was present while I was filming all of my scenes, also the ones he wasn’t involved with. I was very uncomfortable with giving Paul Bettany romantic looks when my boyfriend was right next to me. I mean, I didn’t insist on being there when he shoot that uncalled for kiss between Steve and Sharon.

Around mid-June we got a week off from filming, so Chris and flew back to LA. It was the first time we were staying at the new house, since the renovating team had finished it while we were gone.

Dodger had no problems getting used to his new home. Chris also seemed to love it, even though it wasn’t his first choice. And I was utterly in love with this house. Every day, when I woke up, I had a sunrise in front of me, sneaking through the windows. I looked at Chris, who’s still asleep peacefully and snuggled into him. Even in his sleep, he pulls me closer to him and kisses my shoulder. It’s heaven.

On Friday the 12th, Chris’ friends visited him from Boston to celebrate his birthday. They had an all-boys night with snooker, beers, whisky, American football and stakes, so I let them be and left to run some errands and for a meeting with Jeremy. I had agreed to do an independent movie next year and after reading the script, I thought that the other lead role would be perfect for Jeremy, so I asked him for a meeting.

I walked around a few shops, not really knowing what I wanted to buy, but ended up buying a cute set of pyjamas, jeans and a pair of high heeled shoes.

“Hi, Jer!” I greeted him as he stood up from the table. “How are you?”

“You saw me a few days ago, not much has changed,” he smiled and pulled out the chair for me. “Anyway, you got me interested in that movie.”

I handed him my script. Taylor had asked me not to make any copies, so Jeremy had to read at least a part of it here. We ordered our food and discussed some parts of the movie. “Have they told you where you’d film this?” he asked.

“They’re thinking of Utah in spring,” I answered. “It’s about 5 weeks of filming, but I looked up the locations and they’re incredible, Jer.”

Jeremy seemed very interested in doing the movie. “I’m just a bit worried, you know. I barely got joint custody for my daughter, because my ex tried to prove I don’t have enough time to properly raise a child, so I was actually thinking of having some time off.”

“I mean, I’m not trying to persuade you or anything,” I clarified. “Taylor only mentioned that they still need a male lead, so I asked him for characteristics and thought of you. I’m gonna give you Taylor’s number so you can discuss some matters with him, if you have any other questions.”

Jeremy nodded, putting the script aside. “Anyway, where’s Evans?

“His birthday is tomorrow and his mates from Boston are visiting, so I have house full of Bostonians,” I said. “They’re spending the night, too.”

“You’re in for a loud night,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, but I actually have an invitation to a club for a few of my friends, so I might just do that.” I shrugged. “Seems a bit odd to leave Chris the night before his birthday, but I wouldn’t want to crash their evening either.”

“Good call, guys get super mad when their buddies girlfriends join,” Jeremy said. “How are you two? I gotta be honest, I was pretty sceptical about your relationship at first. Not that I didn’t like you, Em, everyone fucking adores you, but on set relationships have ruined a lot of fun on set.”

I took a bite out of my chicken and said, “We have our ups and downs, but it’s great. So, unless we have a fight, we won’t be ruining the atmosphere.”

“Evans is a great guy, but he’s still lucky to have you,” He grinned. “Honestly, when I met him, I just couldn’t imagine him in an actual, serious relationship and now he responds to the snap of your fingers.”

I laughed out loud, knowing exactly that it’s not true. “Well, that’s a bit of an overstatement.”

We joked a bit more about Chris and talked the Wanda and Hawkeye relationship in the comics, which is sort of a father-daughter thing. It was really fun, especially when be realised that he could, in fact, be my father.

“I’m sorry, I can’t stay longer, but I left Ava with a sitter.”

“Yeah, of course,” I said. “Anyway, I really hope we get to work together again soon, not only for Marvel.”

“And I’m waiting for a housewarming party invitation.”

Jeremy walked me back to my car and we said our goodbyes. I had already noticed a photographer while we were inside, so I was positive that there would be a story about me cheating on my boyfriend with Jer.

It was still early and I knew that Chris hasn’t even started the proper party yet, so I decided to actually go to the club. I got invited by some friends I made on the set of Tudors, who have now also moved to LA.

I didn’t drink, since I had my car with me, but we mainly sat at out table and talked. It’s been too long since we had previously spoken, so it was nice to catch up. At some point we started to dance and I lost track of time.

It’s been too long since I went clubbing and it felt so good to just to close my eyes and not think about anything. I need to take Chris out to a club sometime soon. We’d have a lot of fun.

I think it was around 2 am when I decided it was about time to go back home. I could barely stand on my feet from all this dancing and had to take my shoes off to drive normally.

When I arrived home, the lights were still on. I was hoping to get inside quietly and go to the bedroom, but as soon as I walked in, Dodger started to bark. I bet he wasn’t a fan of the noise.

“Shhh, buddy. Come on, don’t be like that.” I scratched him behind the ear.

Chris came downstairs to greet me at the door and I saw that it took a lot for him not to fall down the stairs. “Hey, babe,” he blurted out. He wasn’t overly drunk, but I would say that he should've stopped drinking about 3 shots ago. “Where ‘ave you been?” His Boston accent was back from spending half the day with his childhood friends. I was kind of loving it.

“I met up with Jeremy and then went out with some friends,” I said and kissed him quickly. “Happy birthday.”

“Oh, God, don’t mention it,” He mumbled and connected out lips in a kiss again. He tasted like alcohol and cigars, which is exactly how I imagine their party would look like. “I hate gettin' old.”

“Old or not, I love you, Evans.” I whispered and made him grin.

“You’re an angel, you know that?” I could see how much he had to focus to say those things out loud properly. “Come on, let me show ya off to the guys a little.”

I rolled my eyes and climbed the stairs with his arm wrapped around me, probably for balance. “Fellas, this is my girl, Emilia,” he said, presenting me almost like Will Smith did with Jada in that one photo. “Some of you have met her, some haven’t been blessed yet.”

“Hey,” I waved at them almost awkwardly. “Don’t worry, I’ll just get something to drink and I’m running upstairs.”

“Why? You should stay with us.” Adam pointed at a spot next to him. “You’re all Chris talks about, anyway.”

“Yeah, I may have never met you, but literally know everything about you,” said the guy that introduced himself as Sam. “Ain’t your fault though, he’s obsessed.”

“I’m sorry, I have no idea what’s gotten into him.” I shrugged. “Anyway, I’m getting myself some wine and I’m gone. Chris, try to change the subject, alright?”

Chris pouted and let me go. I went to the kitchen and grabbed myself a glass of wine and a small bowl of strawberries. I rushed upstairs, taking Dodger with me, grabbed my laptop from the study and set it all on the bedside table. I took a quick shower and changed into my newly bought pyjamas, which I knew Chris will love once he sees it.

I buried myself under the sheets and played a random episode of The Office. Dodger laid down next to my legs, setting his head on my lap for him to scratch. This is the thing he’s takes after his owner. “You’re such an attention seeker, buddy.” He just sighed, signalling that he couldn’t care less, he just wants his petting time.”

I downed my glass very fast and didn’t get a refill, even though I wanted to. At some point I feel asleep with the show still on, Dodger laying down high enough to reach my shoulders and half the bowl of strawberries set on the keyboard.

I woke up to the sound Chris stumbling on the floor. He took the laptop and the bowl off the bed and tried to climb on to the bed without waking me up, but failed.

“You’re such a clumsy drunk, love,” I mumbled against my pillow. “What time is it?”

“It’s, uh, half past 4.” He said, taking off his trousers.

I shifted on my elbows to look at him struggle with the famous red belt which obviously was too complicated to figure out now. “Here, let me help you, old man.” I laughed and sat up on the bed to help him undress.

He gave up and laid back on the bed, before noticing my clothes. “Are these NASA PJs?” He asked.

I smiled and nodded. “You forbid me from buying you any presents so I decided to buy one for myself.”

Suddenly, he wasn’t so helpless anymore and wrestled me down to lay under him. “You’re sadly mistaken, if you think that it’s only a gift for you, fool.”

I turned on the bed to give him a good view of the booty shorts covered with NASA logos. Chris hissed and bent down to leave a few kisses on my thigh and butt. “Fucking amazing.” He whispered to himself, before biting down on my soft flesh.

“Chris!” I squealed, because he wasn’t gentle. Dodger woke up and barked at us.

He sat back and looked at me. “Honestly, I’m so drunk, full and tired that even the sight of this sweet ass isn’t keeping me alive.” He said in such a sad voice that I felt kind of bad for him.

Chris just sighed and threw himself on the bed next to me and brought me as close to him as possible. “Goodnight, Angel.” He whispered and kissed my ear.

“Goodnight, love.” I chuckled and feel asleep.

I woke up a little bit over 5 hours later, again because of Chris, who started to snore unbearably. He was sprawled out on the bed, barely leaving space for me. And that was impressive, because our bedroom bed was huge. Dodger spent the night in his bed on the floor, because once Chris came back, he didn’t leave much space for his rommies.

I got up and went to the bathroom. I brushed my teeth and rushed downstairs with Dodger, who demanded a breakfast right away. I gave him his food and found some leftover pasta for myself. I ate it, made myself some lemon and lime water to go and took Dodger on a walk. First, we went up the hill so he could run around and have some fun. I threw him some sticks and tried to teach him how to fetch, but he was being too playful. I wanted to jog a little bit, but it was too hot and I didn’t want to tire myself out again.

We walked back home, but I let Dodger in to the car and we drove to the shops. I wanted to buy some ingredients for the breakfast I was planning. Chris’ friends were leaving today, late in the afternoon, so we still had to find some entertainment until 7pm.

Having used up a lot of his energy, Dodger was politely walking around by me, not caring around other people or dogs. I bought everything I needed, including more water and Coke and drove back home.

As I suspected, it was almost 11am and none of them have woken up. I went up to the kitchen and placed everything in the fridge, before preparing crust for my breakfast pizza.

“You’re always hungry, aren’t you?” I grinned at Dodger who wouldn’t let me out of his sight, hoping to get some of the smoked chicken I was slicing, which he loves so much he tries to nick it off the counter. At some point he got tired of standing, so he laid down and kept checking on me once in a while.

I made 8 doughs, chopped some meat and vegetables and made a sauce, so everything was ready for me to pop into the oven.

“Am I in hell?” I heard Chris’ low, hoarse voice on the stairs. He was only wearing black jogging pants and no shirt. He had just taken a shower and, I hope, brushed his teeth. “Because it fucking feels like it.”

I giggled at him, but also felt bad for the state he was in. “Do you want some water? It’s ice cold.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He mumbled and sat on the stool at the kitchen counter. I brought him the glass and kissed him on the head. “God, you're too good to me.”

I walked around the kitchen island and put one pizza in the oven. It shouldn’t be long until it’s done. “Do you want some painkillers?” I asked.

“Do we have any?” he lifted his head rapidly, too rapidly apparently. He groaned in pain. “Fucking alcohol.”

I found the pills and refilled his glass. “My poor baby,” I stoked his wet hair, pulling him in for a hug. “At least you had fun.”

He nodded and set his head on my shoulder. “I’m dying...” He whispered and I barely could hold my laughter. “I regret the fun.”

“I mean, you’re 34 today, so...” I chuckled.

“Fuck you,” he muttered. “God, I wish I had the strength to actually fuck you.”

I tilted my head to the side, smiling sweetly at him. “Take the pills. You go upstairs and I’ll wait for the pizza to be done, then I’ll come to the bedroom, feed you and then fuck you.”

Chris groaned and stood up. “Love you, wifey,” I raised my eyebrow at the nickname. “Too much?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I like it, it’s alright.”

Even though he was still a wreck, Chris smiled at me and went up the stairs. “We’re so fucking cheesy.”

I waited a few more minutes for the pizza to be done, sliced it and went upstairs. At this point, I was really hoping Chris' friends wouldn't wake up for at least another hour.

Chris was laying on the bed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. I shut the door and he turned his gaze to me. “I got way too drunk to be treated this good today.” He said.

I climbed on to the bed and handed my boyfriend a glass of Coke. „Drink this,” I said, rubbing his bare chest. He didn’t have a shirtless scene in Civil War, so they didn’t make him wax his chest, and as much as I never like hairy chests, he had the right amount of hair. The only scene that allowed him to show the incredible shape he got into, was the helicopter scene, which as I told him “could literally replace our foreplay”.

“I really hope these will help, ‘cause I’m guessing you’re not into necrophilia.” He chuckled dryly, referring to the pills he took.

“I can’t believe it’s the first time I’m seeing you hangover.” I said.

“Well, I had to show you my better side, so you wouldn’t want to leave me in the beginning,” he answered. “What do you mean ‘you can’t believe it’s the first time’?”

“Brits and Bostonians have a lot in common,” I shrugged. “As in, both like to drink until we throw up. Did you throw up today?”

Chris looked at me and grinned. “None of your business,” He sat up on the bed, leaning on the headboard. “Now give me my food, woman.”

He ate his pizza while talking about what they did while I was away or asleep. I couldn’t understand how grown up men could entertain themselves in the exact same way I did with my friends 5 years ago, when I was first allowed to drink. “In all honesty, you’re all just a bunch of immature boys.”

“I know,” he shrugged, his mouth full. “Half of them uses Tinder for one-night stands and haven’t been in a serious relationship for a while.”

“Do they have a problem with that?”

“Not really, but they do have a weird look on serious relationships,” he answered, taking sip of Coke. “They thought that as soon as you come back, the party would be over.

I raised my eyebrow. “And as we can clearly see by the state of my boyfriend, the fun continued for a long time after I came back.”

Chris smiled sweetly and grabbed my hand. “Yeah, because your boyfriend’s more into long term relationships, I guess.”

“Oh, I know that, I’ve known that for a long time, “ I said. “That’s why it took me less than a month to know he was worthy of taking my virginity.”

Chris tilted his head to the side. “Less than a month? We did it after 5 weeks.”

“When I was already halfway through my first month of birth control,” I explained, moving my hand from his chest down to his abdomen. “Anyway, Cap might not we worthy of wielding Thor’s hammer, but he’s definitely worthy of hammering into me anytime he wishes.”

Chris choked on the food and started to laugh so loudly, I was sure he would take everyone up. “Holy, hell,” he choked out. “I want that on a shirt and I want you to wear it all the time.” That comment seemed to energize him a little bit, so I decided it was time. Also, I was super horny. I moved to sit on Chris’ thighs and removed my shirt to reveal a thin, white bra. “Oh, Cap’s gettin’ laid.”

I smirked and moved down to hover over his calves, so my head was right above his abdomen. “Let me suck you off, daddy.” I whispered, before lowering my lips to leave wet kisses on his lower stomach, my fingers toying with the strings at the waistband of his pants. It’s been a long time since I‘d gone down on Chris and I didn’t even have enough will power to make him wait. I pulled down his pants and boxers, revealing his half erect length. I looked deep into Chris’ eyes and felt my mouth start to water. I sat back for a second and tied my hair into a ponytail.

“Oh, it’s gonna be good.” Chris mumbled as he saw me do that. I smirked and sunk back down to attach my lips to the base of his cock and lick all the way up to the tip. I rested my hands on his hips and locked my lips around the tip, swirling my tongue around it, tasting his pre-cum. I released him and smiled at Chris who was watching me with his mouth open and eyes half-shut.

I wrapped my hand around him and sunk down to the base of his cock again, but this time moved lower to play with his balls. I’d suck on few spots and give it small licks, toying with his balls, as my hand was stroking up and down his shaft, tugging at it, its movements moisturized by the leaking pre-cum. I hear Chris’ light moans as my lips became more forceful in toying with his sensitive area. I moved away to take a breath and sank down to wrap my mouth around Chris’ throbbing cock. I hollowed my cheeks around him, reaching as far as I can go and covering the rest with my palm. Chris jerked his hips forward, making me take him even further. I moved my hands to fondle his balls, as my lips reached the base. I moaned as he hit the back of my throat and Chris immediately responded to the vibrations caused by it. “Fuck yes, babygirl,” He groaned and grabbed my ponytail and gently guided me to work my mouth up and down his shaft. “You’re so good to me.” he mumbled between heavy breaths.

I kept up the pace, feeling Chris’ dick twitch inside my mouth. My boyfriend was squirming a lot under me, as his orgasm approached. I sucked on the side of his shaft, moving up and down, along the visible veins. Seeing Chris throw his head back, I took his whole length into my mouth again, bobbing my head up and down and waiting for him to reach his orgasm. “Fuck, I’m going to come, baby,” he whined. “Stop, I don’t want to come yet.”

“I’ll get you hard again,” I breathed out, giving myself a very quick break to catch a breath. I sunk down again, trying to finish Chris off. He always lasts very long, but that’s really the opposite of a problem. As Chris groaned loudly, I felt him twitch inside my mouth as he released is load. I swallowed every last drop and licked his cock clean, looking him straight in his eyes.

Chris was panting heavily and shifted on his elbows. “Emily,” he sighed, barely able to say anything. “I could barely stop myself from proposing to you in the middle of a blowjob.”

He sat up leaning on the head board again. I smiled and straddled his thighs, gently tracing veins on his shaft, which was a bit softer now. “I know, I know,” I whispered. “I enjoyed that too.”

Chris moved his hands up and down my hips. He reached behind me to unhook my bra and pulled it off my chest. “Mm, yeah,” He placed his palms on my breasts and started to fondle them. “Come ‘ere.” he mumbled and pulled my chest against his face to attach his lips to my nipple. I gasped as he bit down lightly. I started to gently grind on his dick, rubbing my wet pussy against him. Without his mouth leaving my skin, he reached his hand to my butt and slapped it, before grabbing one cheek firmly. I put my hands on the back of his neck, supporting myself as I rubbed against his length, waiting for him to be hard again. “Babygirl, you’re so good to me.” He breathed on my wet nipple, giving me a tingly sensation. He grabbed both of my cheeks and started massaging them with the same pace I was rubbing against him.

I reached down with my hand and grabbed his semi-hard cock, guiding it against my entrance. I rubbed the tip against my folds, causing both of us to moan loudly. “We probably should be a little bit more quiet.” I breathed out.

“Fuck it, these losers should know you’re the best thing that even happened to me,” He mumbled as I sank down onto his cock. We kept the eye contact as I moved down until he was completely buried inside me. “We should stay like this all day.” Chris said quietly, taking a deep breath.

I started to move up and down, as he started thrusting up. I was already very turned on, after going down on Chris, so I was very close to my first orgasm. I was breathing heavily with my forehead against Chris’ and the know in my stomach tightened. “You feel so good inside me,.” I muttered. “Faster, daddy.”

I came for the first time, gripping Chris’ bicep tightly, trying not to wake up the whole house. It sped up my heart rate, I couldn’t stop letting out little moans, releasing tension from my body. Chris wrapped his arm around my waist to bring me closer to him and thrust faster into my pussy. His other hand was still roaming on my ass cheeks. I felt my walls tighten and a smirk appeared on Chris’ face. He was panting at the same rate as I was. “Since it’s my birthday,” he hummed against my lips. “can we try something new?”

A smile formed on my lips, because I knew what he was asking for. “I guess you weren’t joking about loving fucking girls in the butt.”

“I’m not gonna fuck you in the butt now,” He said, giving me a little, soft kiss on the lips. “I just wanna play a lil’.”

Chris brought his forefinger to my mouth. “Suck it, baby.” I wrapped my lips around his finger, twirling my tongue around it, using extra saliva. Chris slowed down the pace and I swayed my hips to the sides and around, trying to reach different spots. He moved his finger to my butthole, circling around it. I opened my mouth, experiencing something I never have. His finger started to enter my hole and it gave me a weird, but pleasurable sensation. He was very gentle and slow, trying not to cause me any pain.

“I’m so close,” I mumbled and connected our lips. I moved my tongue with his, twirling around it. I felt the knot again, everything in front of me became blurry and I couldn’t speak property. While Chris’ finger was fingering me, the other hand reached my clit to rub it and speed up my orgasm. I was barely able to control my muscles and not collapse onto Chris. I felt overstimulated and helpless.

“You like daddy fingering your tight little hole, huh?” Chris whispered. “Who’s doing that to you, huh?”

I wasn’t able to speak, because of the speed Chris was pounding into me at an incredibly fast speed. I came hard on his dick, as he removed his finger from my hole, stopped rubbing my clit and just brought my body tightly against his.

Chris came right after me, with a last, hard thrust, staying inside me and shooting his load into me. He turned us to lay on our sides, out bodies still intertwined. We were both panting heavily, unable to stabilize our breaths and heart rates. Chris took a few loose strands of hair from my wet forehead and tucked them behind my ear. He then kissed my nose.

“Let’s take a nap, princess,” he whispered. “You deserve it.”

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#chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fic #chris evans x reader #chris evans blurb #chris evans imagine #fanfic

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penumbra-rp · 6 years ago

Photo

Congratulations Dean, you have been accepted for the role of Rabastan Lestrange!

“Does reputation matter to you?”

“My reputation? Who do you think I am, Taylor Swift?” he questions tauntingly.

Admin Ash: Dean, from the moment we heard of your interest in Rabastan, we had a feeling he had just the vibe that would be perfect for you, and this application only proved how right we were. Rabastan is hilarious, he’s animated, he’s completely and utterly obnoxious -- just as you stated in his traits -- and I found myself cackling out loud to his antics and the numerous ridiculous things he said. Much like the gem above. He’s a proper nuisance -- wearing his place at the bottom of his graduating class like a medal and taking utter pride in spicing up any dinner party -- and I found that I adored him all the more for it. I know he’s going to give many of our Death Eaters a headache that’ll be too hard to shake. I’m so excited that you’ll be bringing our rambunctious rockstar to us!

Please check out our checklist for joining Penumbra.

01. Out of Character

NAME: Dean

AGE: 21

YOUR BIRTHDAY: July 4th 1997

PRONOUNS: She/Her

TIMEZONE: GMT

02. In Character

CHARACTER: Rabastan Lestrange

CHARACTER’S PRONOUNS: He/Him

FACECLAIM: Robert Sheehan

CHARACTER’S BIRTHDAY: July 29th

PERSONALITY:

+ Persuasive

+ Comical

+ Boisterous

- Argumentative

- Obnoxious

- Impressionable

BRIEF BULLET POINT BIO:

‘What a beautiful little girl you have,’ strangers would coo, easily mistaking the boy’s long dark eyelashes as a feminine feature. The compliment felt like a stab in the heart for a woman who had mothered two sons when she had spent the majority of her second pregnancy dreaming longingly for a daughter.

The minute he had said his first words, the Lestranges knew he would be nothing like their first child. Rabastan was demanding, his mother’s disinterest and father’s sternness only making him thirst more for their approval. He’d approach the world as if it were a stage and his friends and family was his audience. Every move calculated strategically as a plead for more attention, plots intertwined intricately to remove wishfully himself from his older brother’s seemingly overbearing shadow and earn his own moment in the spotlight. When that didn’t work, Rabastan turned towards misbehaving. Playing cruel tricks on Rodolphus which were reciprocated with pure disdain from the young teenager, saying inappropriate things when there were guests around and neglecting to follow any rules. There were no limits, so long as he knew it would obtain him the measliest bit of recognition.

As his troublesome ways manifested and endangered on becoming a larger problem, Rabastan was swiftly packed up and sent to a private school. One where the tuitions were sky high since there was the promise to straighten out unruly children and turn them into well-behaved future politicians and lawyers. The first couple of years, Rabastan was no stranger to disciplinary procedures. Hours upon hours spent in detention, letters sent home on numerous occasions and not to mention the extra load of homework he’d receive on the basis that he never seemed to be listening in class. Yes, within the three years of his enrolment, the youngest Lestrange was fast becoming one of the rare cases that the school couldn’t fix. Foreseeably a failure in the eyes of his teachers and his parents.

That was, of course, until they decided to place the boy in front of a piano. Fingers gliding effortlessly across ivory keys and filling the room with delicate twinkling accents. What was meant to be another amercement spun into Rabastan’s saving grace, the first time he’d receive acknowledgement for the right reasons and actually feel some contentment in what he was doing. When he’d returned home that year for the summer, his piano lessons continued. Quickly followed by learning the guitar, the violin and even the saxophone. Essentially, it was considered to be a miracle, at long last, they’d found the one thing that installed some calm into Rabastan’s relentless frenzy of a personality.

Throughout the years, Rabastan’s creativity and musical talent only appeared to flourish. Carefully written lyrics sang in perfect pitch over another one of his original guitar riffs, an angelic voice filtering through the house and reverberating a gentle symphony in the bleak hallways. But when the time came, the answer was a clean cut ‘no’ to his proposal of studying anywhere else other than the Slytherin school of Social Business. Despite his talents, his father would have sooner fallen into an early grave than see one of his son’s graduating with anything that wasn’t a business degree.

The confinements the course held over his time to express artistic freedom entirely reignited Rabastan’s dormant compulsion to rebel. Skipping one too many classes and spending more time drinking than he ever did in the library. When it came to graduating, the life of the party and class clown unsurprisingly had barely scraped the mark. Proudly taking the place at the bottom of his class and leaving the school entirely unqualified to fulfil a role in the family business.

Rabastan had won. One last swipe of his father’s credit card was enough to book a couple of days in a recording studio and the rest, as they say, was history. Songs that he’d masterfully been pouring all of his efforts into during his studies turned to meticulously crafted pieces of art. With a pretty face and sleek style, it wasn’t long before a record label picked him up and churned him into a full-fledged rockstar. Fame and notoriety came second nature. Orchestrating publicity stunts with his PR team and spreading his own rumours were all part of the game in establishing his very own empire. It was as if Rabastan was created for this fast set lifestyle, stepping on other people’s toes so he could climb the social ladder right to the very top.

Rabastan Lestrange had become a household name. Securing a number one in the UK charts for three consecutive months and selling out venues shortly after the release of his debut album. His quick-witted opinions and outrageous interviews going viral across social media, gaining him the admiration of many and resentment of others. It wasn’t long after that, that his family name would call on his like a curse to act dutifully to another cause.

Owning one of the major organisations that formed the frameworks of the Sacred 28 meant that the Lestrange family were no strangers to the acts of Death Eaters. Regularly, it had been part of the dining room chatter that Rabastan was effectively escorted away from, untrusted with the secrets that Rodolphus’ silver tongue was so often wrapped around. That was until they’d seen an opportunity in the younger Lestrange’s childish arrogance and increasing influence he held over the public. Rabastan’s lust for trouble and manipulative discourse fit suitably within the skill sets of a Death Eater. They would use him as a middle man, putting his sweet talk and skilled bribery to good use and when that failed, he’d follow precise orders and discard of the target.

If it weren’t for Rodolphus’s involvement, Rabastan would have never of handed his loyalty to the organisation as easily as he had. Though the Dark Lord may be the ringleader, for Rabastan this went further than ranks. It was about blood. He’d never been that ideal, pristine version of the man his parents anticipated that he’d be. Dismissing controversies to the press with blatant arrogance and refusing to comment on anything associated with Lestrange Industries and the warfare it supported. This was a chance to prove himself, to his bloodline, he was one of them.

INTERVIEW:

i. How do you feel about your current occupation?

“Adoring fans that scream your name, music royalties, fancy events, groupies,” Rabastan lists off one by on his fingers before scoffing, “no, you’re right, I should really go beg my darling big brother for a space in the family business, I’d be a really sexy secretary for a businessman- I mean, picture me in a pencil skirt.” Rabastan puckers his lips at the thought, using his hand to fan himself down, “my apologies, I’m getting all hot and bothered just thinking about it.”

ii. What song would you say describes yourself?

Running a hand below his chin, he’s selecting his next words carefully. “Hmm, now who do I hand out this chunk of free promotion to if not myself… No, really, I say I like something and the sales skyrocket the next day, I guess it’s my charm.” Reclined in his chair Rabastan springs back up once the perfect song comes to mind, “Have you ever heard of The Cheeky Girls?” his own laughter surrounds him in a pitch almost as harmonic as his singing, “In all seriousness, Club Tropicana by Wham! really just radiates my personality.”

iii. Does reputation matter to you?

“My reputation? Who do you think I am, Taylor Swift?” he questions tauntingly. “It’s been said that I’m like marmite, you love me or you hate me. Either way makes no difference to me. This is where my manager comes swanning in to warn me to play nicely with my dearest interviewer, but you know why my fans love me? It’s because I’m genuine, I’m not going to feed them all this bullshit as other singers do- that reminds me! Buy my new EP, available now on iTunes.” he punctuates with a charming wink, though his tone was sarcastic his intent is entirely serious.

iv. What is your relationship with your parents like?

“Mummy and Daddy wanted a little girl so badly, then when I turned out to be a right old diva they still weren’t impressed” He can’t fight the look of pure delight that rules his expression, even as a boy his parents distaste in his demeanour had been hugely entertaining. “Truth is I like being the black sheep of the family, it’s satisfying work for me. That and I make our dinner parties a lot more enjoyable, I inject a healthy bit of personality into the dining room conversations and stop people from falling asleep in their soup bowls, you know?… for example, bear versus shark, who would win? Obviously, it’s the bear.”

v. What languages can you speak?

“Most days I can hardly even speak English,” he declares humorously, “I speak enough French to get by thanks to private schooling. You know the basics… Voulez-vous coucher avec moi,” he’d definitely learned that from Lady Marmalade, not his expensive education.

vi. If your home was on fire and you could only save one item, what would you choose?

“The drugs- Kidding!” he’s aware that he’s yet to answer one question sincerely. “For all my beautiful fans out there, please know that I would NEVER participate in the massive consumption of cocaine, but I didn’t say anything about ecstasy.” Rabastan pauses long enough to make them feel uncomfortable, visibly revelling in the awkward silence. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, I’m joking, again. I don’t know what I’d save, I could easily replace anything. So maybe my wallet.”

vii. Which Hogwarts University faculty did you study at? The Gryffindor School of Applied Science, the Ravenclaw School of Humanities, the Slytherin School of Social Science, or the Hufflepuff School of Art?

His lips are pressed together in contemplation, finally a question that couldn’t be glossed over with humour or shocking statements. “The Slytherin School of Social Science,” as he answers, he gags to dramatise his disdain. “I wanted so badly to study Literature under the Ravenclaw School of Humanities, but daddy dearest was refusing to financially support me if I didn’t follow in the family’s footsteps. ‘No son of mine is walking around reading Bridget Jones’ Diary’” Whilst imitating his father’s hoarse voice, his expression changes to an unnatural dark grimace and wags his finger in the air. “-Great book, by the way. So that’s the story of how I became a Business graduate and the bottom of the class.” A nostalgic sigh pronounces itself from his lungs as he stares dreamily into the distance, “oh the glory days.”

vix. What is your social media username?

“@RabastanLestrangeMusic, that’s the one I’m meant to plug anyway, or my publicist will have me by the throat- little does she know, I’d enjoy that,” he glances over his shoulder to see if his manager is watching before looking back to them with a delighted grin, “I do have this lesser known Instagram account, @Rab_a_stan, it’s got a couple of thousand followers, I started it last week and I put really weird unfiltered shit on there- wait can I swear during this interview? I never asked, fuck.”

#accepted

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a-mad-scientist-approaches · 7 years ago

Text

Multiverse is a Curse Word (9)

Getting there! There’s gonna be one more chapter after all, it’s ended up being longer than I thought it would be!

@hntrgurl13, thanks for Addi, the Dimension Jumper AU, and the Drifting Dimensions AU. I love it all so much!

@the-subpar-ghost, my gosh I love the Adrift AU, I will never be able to get enough of it!

@scipunk63. Addiford. ADDIFORD. ADDIFOOOOORD. So good man.

@deadpool-demon-diva and @thejesterlyfictionista, as always.

Minor spoiler: another portal vision, this one’s from @thesnadger‘s fic Five Minutes Older. Jeez it’s awesome.

AO3 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

Chapter 9: Not What We Agreed On

“Always good to have you over,” Clive said dryly as the portal appeared.

“Sorry,” Addi winced again. She was very unsteady on her feet, and Ford was having to support her.

“Stop it. We’ll see you again, alright? You’re always welcome here.” He hugged her goodbye. “Actually, you’ll have to come back, Julian’s going to be so mad he missed you.”

“Well in that case of course I’ll be back,” Addi laughed.

“Nice to meet you, Stanford, Mabel,” Clive said, shaking Ford’s hand and waving to Mabel.

Mabel waved back, and stepped through the portal.

. . . she was in the Stanleymobile with a man thirty years younger than he should have been, and they were heading to Oregon, where she was determined to fix everything . . .

. . . she was filled with rage at this stupid unicorn who had made her feel so small and ashamed, and without thinking she swung a punch . . .

. . . she was playing mini golf with Pacifica and Dipper, but they weren’t competing, they were just talking and enjoying each other’s presence . . .

The view of a busy city street under a darkening sky swam into view, and Mabel stepped into a crowd of pedestrians. No one looked twice at the portal which had appeared in the wall of a café.

“Mabel, don’t do that,” said Ford frantically as he and Addi came through after her.

“You need to wait for us, honey,” Addi said, equally exasperated.

“Sorry.” Mabel said meekly. She remembered Ford trying to impress upon her on more than one occasion the dangers of feeling invincible or assuming she was safe – although personally she felt he was understating himself: she should be able to feel safe with the people who kept her safe, after all.

“Do you know where we are? Do you recognise anyone?” she directed at Addi eagerly, looking forward to meeting more of her friends.

Addi examined their surroundings as best she could. She’d said things still seemed a bit blurry, but Ford had reassured them both that if balance problems and some fuzziness was all that was wrong, she would be fine after some rest.

A grin broke across Addi’s face, which was encouraging, but then it faltered. “Do you want the good news or the bad news first?”

Ford’s expression turned grim. “Bad-”

“GOOD!” said Mabel desperately. “And, if it’s possible, can we avoid the bad completely?”

Addi sighed. “Well I know where we are, and who we’re going to see. It’s getting to them that’s the problem,”

⃝

“This is definitely a problem,” Ford agreed, shifting his hold on Addi and looking at the security checkpoint that barricaded the way into the central business district of the city. Guards worked their way through the crowd, asking for identification or proof of residence. They distributed out clear cards that would let them pass through the forcefield across the street.

“Why is the security here so tight?” breathed Mabel.

“Because this city is the nerve centre of Wikert Expansion Enterprises,” said Addi wearily.

Ford turned to her incredulously. “This again?!”

“I’m sorry, I forgot I gave a locator to someone who lived here. I will definitely be taking it back,”

“What happens if we get caught?” asked Mabel. As an answer there was a sudden flurry of movement near the front of the crowd, and it was clear someone was attempting to force their way past a guard. The guard pulled out a baton and shocked them with it, blue electricity flickering across the person violently. Then they were shocked again. And again. And once more – for luck, Ford supposed.

“Oh,” said Mabel in a small voice.

“Alright,” Ford said, running a hand through his hair. He had been in worse situations, he could figure something out. “I’ll cause a distraction while you two go over to one of the guards and get the cards off him-”

“And what then? How are you going to get through?” asked Add, glaring.

“I’ll catch up-”

“No, they’ll catch you. How about I try to find another way in-”

“Addi, you have a concussion, and you know that all the entrances will have checkpoints exactly like this one,”

“We don’t know that for sure – some might have more security,”

Ford was not sure if she was more injured than she was letting on, or if she was joking to lighten the mood, or if she was trying to ameliorate their argument, but it was not working, and it was not funny.

“You are not going to allow them any more opportunities to discover you than necessary,” he said firmly.

“And you’re not going to try needlessly giving yourself up,” she said, just as stubbornly.

They frowned at each other huffily, Ford feeling simultaneously touched at her strong reaction to his idea, worried about her readiness to risk her exposure as a former resistance member, and annoyed at how quickly she had shut him down.

“Well it looks like we have no more ideas, then,” he said finally.

“AHEM,” said Mabel loudly. “I notice you haven’t consulted me yet, and I happen to be a very persuasive liar. I think I can get us through with no trouble at-”

“Identification please,” said a bored voice.

Dread filled Ford’s stomach as they faced the guard. While he and Adeline were still thinking furiously of a way out, Mabel stepped forward.

“Actually sir, we are so sorry to be any trouble, but as you can note from our ragged clothing and eyes haunted from the horrors we’ve seen, we are refugees fleeing from desolation and despair. My own mother has sustained a serious head injury!” Mabel was wide-eyed and her voice was tragic. Both he and Addi were frozen, not daring to do anything more than glance at each other. They were certain the guard would pull out his baton at any moment.

“Our relatives have courageously offered to take us in, but because of the, y’know, desolation and despair, we had to leave so quickly that we couldn’t take anything! Not even-” tears began to prick at her eyes, “-poor old Roger, our cat! So if you could please-”

“Yeah kid, I’m sorry, but there’s others waiting.” Surprisingly, there was a trace of sympathy in his single eye. “Just show me your arm and you can go on through,”

Mabel faltered. “Um, my – my arm?”

“Yep,”

Shit. The refugee processing system here must tattoo the people who make it through. Ford had encountered that method of tagging in several dimensions. It made it much harder to fake residency.

The guard grew impatient with Mabel’s hesitancy and seized her arm himself. Addi’s hand shot out and pulled Mabel back against her, while Ford reached for his gun. The guard had already pushed Mabel’s sleeve up, however, revealing . . . not the incriminatingly blank patch of skin that Ford had expected, but a strange, whorling scar on the inside of her arm, where one might stick an IV.

The guard nodded. “A successful blood synthesisation and transfusion against the virus only Wikert Expansion Enterprises has managed to develop a cure for. We get a lot of refugees in your situation, and this is an easy way to prove they’re residents, not spies. You two her parents?” he asked Addi and Ford.

“Yes!” Addi said, quickly and much louder than normal.

“Feel free to go on through,” he handed over the cards.

“You’re not going to check us, too?” Ford said, before he could stop himself. Addi stomped on his foot.

“Nope. You’ve all gone through the same thing, and have obviously had a hard enough time already. I own a cat myself,” the guard said compassionately, and sniffed. And that appeared to be that.

As they passed through the forcefield and walked out of view, Addi and Mabel started laughing hysterically, and Ford chuckled a little himself.

⃝

Addi knocked on the door. It opened.

“HIIIII KOT!” beamed Mabel.

It was difficult to discern expressions on the octopus-being’s face, but Addi thought Kot seemed very surprised. They recovered quickly, however.

“Marks. Mabel. And you brought the rude one,”

“Can we come in?” Addi asked, ignoring Ford’s sigh.

Kot rolled all six of their eyes and stood aside to let them pass.

“Thank you,”

“So,” Kot said, once they were seated in a very humid living room (which was Kot’s species’ preferred climate, Addi remembered), “I heard Wesley was after you guys. Which makes it pretty strange you’re here, visiting someone who works for him.”

Addi felt Ford tense beside her, and she did the same, but she managed to reply in a steady voice.

“Well, we needed a place to stay, and you know my portal beacon works on a randomiser that I’ve never been able to fix,”

“Oh, so you’re here by accident,”

“Yes,” Addi had assumed Kot would be more than willing to help them lie low for a while. Unfortunately, it was not looking that way. Too late, she remembered that when Kot had abandoned Wikert and joined the resistance, they had done so with all their being, and their undivided loyalty had proved invaluable. That loyalty was to the resistance, not friends, Addi realised.

There was a silence, during which Mabel fiddled anxiously with Addi’s sleeve.

“Adeline has a concussion.” Ford said suddenly. “Would you mind taking a look?”

Kot nodded shortly. As they examined her head, they said, “I assume this is from Wesley’s strike group? I heard he was sending Netessa after you,”

Addi hummed an affirmative.

“I’m glad you’re okay,”

The quiet admission caused Addi to sigh in relief. Everything was fine. Kot wasn’t suddenly going to start attacking them. She had just been winding herself up.

Eventually Kot deemed the injury was just as Ford had said: nothing a few hours rest wouldn’t fix, and they gave her some medication to help.

Addi downed it in one. Kot stared in what looked like disbelief.

“What?”

“You’re really not cautious enough,”

“I have a concussion, I think I can be forgiven,” Addi pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s going to knock you out,”

“Yes?”

“. . . you realise I’ve told Wesley you’re here, right?”

“What?!” Addi and her friends exclaimed together.

“But you said we could stay!” protested Mabel.

“No, you assumed you could. Quite rudely, actually,” Kot crossed several of their tentacles irritably.

“But you treated Addi!” Ford said angrily.

“You just gave me some drugs!” Addi said at the same time.

“Oh, so you think that just because I care about your well-being I’m not going to set a murderous resistance on you? Huh. Narrow-minded, much,”

Mabel booed, Ford stood up, and Addi tried to as well, but suddenly her legs weren’t obeying her and she flopped face-down onto a pillow. “Great,” she grunted into it.

She felt Ford pick her up and start heading for the door. “Wait, wait a minute!” she motioned for him to turn back around so she could address Kot. He reluctantly did so, and her hair fell over her face.

“You-! Mabel can you please . . . thanks.” Mabel brushed the hair away. “You are a terrible friend!”

“I’m not stopping you from leaving, am I?”

“Shut your mouth – wherever it is!” snapped Mabel, and pushed Ford towards the door. They had to leave before resisters arrived.

⃝

Once they were several streets away, Mabel asked, “What do we do now?”

“Well, it’s clear Wesley’s not going to stop coming after us, and I’m sorry, but I don’t think we should trust any more of your friends,” Ford said to Addi.

Addi agreed, feeling herself starting to lose consciousness. “You know what the only thing that can stop the resistance is, don’t you?” she asked unenthusiastically.

Ford nodded tiredly. “Yes. Wikert Expansion Enterprises,”

“Oh boy,” Mabel breathed, and they stood there for a moment, soaking in the realisation.

“Well, I think I can convince them to help! I’ve got all this information on Wesley, after all,” Addi said brightly.

“What? No.” Ford said sharply. “We just agreed an hour ago not to give ourselves up!”

“No,” Addi corrected sweetly, “we agreed that you wouldn’t be giving yourself up,”

“And that you wouldn’t-” Ford started, but Addi kissed him and he shut up.

The last thing she heard before passing out was Mabel asking if they were going to sleep in an alley again.

⃝

“Help! Help, please help!” cried Mabel as she frantically ran up to a security guard in the enormous lobby of Wikert Expansion Enterprise’s main building. She grabbed their arm and started to pull on it.

“What’s wrong, child?”

“Please, it’s my mom, something happened, I don’t know what, she just collapsed-”

The guard looked around for someone to take their post in front of the tech service elevator, but in the early hours of the morning the entire lobby was deserted.

“Show me where she is,”

Mabel led them away, noting with satisfaction a dark shadow which slipped silently out of hiding and entered the elevator.

“She’s right here,” they rounded a massive pillar extending up to the arched ceiling and she pointed to where Addi was slumped against it. The guard knelt down to check her breathing and heart rate, their feelers quivering with sensitivity.

“She seems to be fine. Perhaps she fainted. Have you both been receiving enough fluids and nutrition?”

“Well, we’re refugees, we’re still kinda sorting out our situation-”

“I understand. May I see your arm?”

This was the part she had anticipated. Mabel confidently and obligingly pulled back her layers of clothing to reveal the swirly scar. It was quite pretty in the daylight.

The guarded nodded and then accepted Mabel’s quick lie that Addi had one too. “I can take you up to one of the offices upstairs while she recovers if you like?”

“Please, yes, thank you so much!”

The office they found themselves in was by no means the grandest in the place. Mabel hoped their plan was still going to work, as she couldn’t exactly demand to be left alone in the office of Wikert herself, or anyone even close to her level.

The guard gave them a couple glasses of water, then left. As soon as the door closed, Addi sat up on the couch and winked at her. The drugs had worn off hours ago.

“Good job, kiddo. Say hi to Ford,” she waved at the security lens in the corner of the ceiling, Mabel following suit.

“He should be sending a message to whoever’s office this is right?”

“About an urgent resistance matter requiring their attention,”

“Well hopefully they’ve got some jurisdiction on this, otherwise we might be arrested, haha,”

The wait was rather quiet after that.

⃝

The door slammed open and a very frazzled-looking otter person bounded in. He stiffened when he saw them, and closed the door slowly, obviously thinking furiously.

“Calling security isn’t a good idea,” warned Addi, shifting slightly so he could see Big Bertha. Mabel was impressed that the only sign he gave of fear was a widening of his eyes.

“Adeline Marks,” he said.

“You know who I am?”

He snorted. “Of course I do. I’ve been the director of operations on everything related to resistance cell 736 for years. Or I was, until all our information on it vanished a few days and I was severely demoted. I assume that was your doing?” he said sourly.

“What a coincidence,” Addi said breezily (while Mabel quietly half freaked out and half rejoiced), “because that’s exactly what I’m here to offer you back. It looks like the multiverse is on your side today, my friend.”

The otter-man’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you give that up? You’ve just succeeded in erasing it all,”

“The leader of that particular resistance cell – I call him Wesley, but his real name is-” Addi gestured gracefully to Mabel, who took the cue and growled expertly, “-that, and he’s part of a species known as polarions – did you know any of that? No? Well anyway, he and I had a falling out.”

“He’s trying to kill us now,” Mabel put in.

“We’d like him to stop,”

“And this is where I come in?” the otter-man said, walking slowly over to his desk and sitting down behind it, as though this was any other business meeting.

“Uh huh. As I’ve already demonstrated, I have a lot of information that you don’t and, in fact, never did. Part of that is the dimension and location of RC736’s main headquarters. I can give that to you,”

There was a definite spark of greed in the man’s eyes now. Mabel could practically see his visions of glory and triumph, reinstatement and reward, as he was hailed for taking down a resistance cell.

“Alright. You have a deal. Call me Lic,”

“Wee and lick. This place sure is good with names,” Mabel muttered.

The door opened again and Ford came through.

Lic’s jaw dropped. “Stanford Pines?”

Ford kept his hand on the doorhandle. “Yes?” he answered guardedly.

This can’t be good, Mabel thought.

Lic’s eyes turned to her. “And you must be Mabel Pines, then,”

Definitely not good.

“How do you know that?” Ford demanded.

“Well, you are near the top of the interdimensional most-wanted list.” retorted Lic. “The bounty on you was just increased because of that girl.” He nodded to Mabel. “Bill Cipher’s offering extra if she’s captured or killed along with you.”

Addi immediately backed away, putting one hand on her sword and stepping in front of Mabel. Ford didn’t bother with warnings and aimed his gun directly at Lic’s forehead.

“Whoa, whoa, relax, I’m not going to hand you over! Wikert herself has made it very clear that she has no interest in dealing with that dream demon. This company stands for order and control, not chaos and destruction!”

No one relaxed. It might have been because that spark of greed was still shining in Lic’s eye.

“How about this: I’ll bring down RC736 for you, and in return Stanford Pines, certified genius in almost every dimension, can come work for us. Anonymously, of course. Your mind would be a very valuable asset,”

“You’re already going to reap the rewards of taking down the cell, I don’t think you need much else,” said Addi.

“Who needs the resistance off their back more, Marks? It’s not my life that’s on the line. I’m going to need some extra incentive now that I know how much you can deliver on,”

“Adeline-” Ford started.

“What about me?” interrupted Addi. “You’ve got loads of geniuses working for you, but how many resisters do you have?”

“Addi, no!” burst out Mabel.

“How many resisters as important as me?”

Mabel felt as though everything was unravelling around her, the way she’d sometimes pull at a loose string on a sweater until it was completely undone. She couldn’t believe Addi was doing this! She wanted to shove the bracelet she had made in her face and force her to adhere to the things she had in mind when she made it.

“See, the problem with that is you’re not going to be much use after RC736 is gone,” Lic continued, like the other two didn’t exist.

“I worked with the resistance for five years. Do you honestly think I didn’t have dealings with at least a quarter of the cells? That’s about two hundred and fifty independent syndicates. I have information you can’t even begin to imagine,”

Lic grinned, showing sharp teeth. “You make a fair point. Alright, you win. We have a new deal,”

“Adeline!” Ford holstered his gun and strode towards her, seizing her arm. “Excuse us.” he said curtly to Lic, and Mabel followed them into the adjoining storage room. “What are you doing?” he hissed.

Addi glared and pulled away from him. “Exactly what you were prepared to do a second ago, you hypocrite,”

“I’m not going to let you be trapped here-”

“Stanford, I’m not actually going to go through with this!”

There was silence. Then Mabel said, “You’re not?”

“Of course not!” A disbelieving grin spread across Addi’s face. “Your reactions made it very convincing, though,”

Mabel laughed and hugged her tightly. Ford wordlessly followed.

“That was very well done,” he said soon enough, relief apparent in every syllable.

“All according to plan,” she replied warmly, giving him a squeeze. “I’m not going anywhere, you two,”

When they headed back into the room, Lic was already making preparations.

“All sorted out then? Good. Now this base you want us to attack, do you know how many resisters are going to be there?”

Addi hesitated, then shook her head. “They move in and out of it all the time, so there could be anywhere from thirty to two hundred inside. The only thing I can guarantee is that Wesley will be there. He never leaves, unless for a major operation, and I would have heard about it if there was one being planned – they take weeks to prepare,”

“Unfortunately, if we don’t have an approximate figure, we can’t make a move. We value our personnel. There is an upside though-”

“You don’t value us?” predicted Ford.

“Got in one. Don’t worry, I don’t want you to take control of the place yourself, I just want you to get inside and get us a number. We’ll scramble a force and handle it from there,” he beamed at them.

“Yeah that sounds about right,” said Mabel glumly. Right in keeping with the usual load the multiverse dumped on them.

#gravity falls #fanfiction #adrift au #dimension jumper au #drifting dimensions au #portal ford #portal mabel #portal addi #adeline marks #stanford pines #mabel pines #multiverse is a curse word #my writing

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nandini--sharma · 5 years ago

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I. Hi! We’re happy to have you with us. First thing’s first, can you slate for us please? (Name, Age, Pronouns, Occupation, Faceclaim)

“Of course. Hi,my name is Nandini Sharma, I’m forty-three years old, a former model, actress,and dancer and the current COO of __.I use feminine pronouns and as strange as it sounds, people often compare me to Aishwarya Rai-Bachchan.”

II. It’s great to meet you. So you have to know that everyone’s been curious about you, why don’t we start with where you’re from? Tell us where you grew up and what your childhood and family were like.

"Oh, well, I was born in Mumbai, but that was only because my mother needed a C-section and was carried to a large hospital after she passed her due date. She loved to say that I was a diva since in the womb. Anyway, not long after that I was brought back to my village, it wasn’t the small type or rural place you’d see on television, but it wasn’t the big city, either. But it was home. We lead a simple life there and I was very happy playing among the nature out there. You know, fields, cows, goats... “

III. Well, they say our upbringing molds who we become. I’m sure that you got your reputation for being humble, hardworking, active/ dramatic, impressionable, demanding from that.

IV. And what about that lead you to your current career? How did that impact you enough to want to do what you do now?

" It was luck, honestly. I think from a very young age people realized that I wasn’t like the other girls around, who played, did chores, went to school, and were all accepting of their future to become a wife and mother. I was always told I was pretty, and I suppose it got to my head a bit, because I was only about fifteen when I told my mother I wanted to be a model. I always saw magazines on stands with such pretty women on them and thought ‘ well I can do that too’. Of course, it didn’t have the same stigma that it used to, but my mother still was very much against the idea. I think she didn’t want to send me to the city and see me get hurt or lose the values and virtues she had given me, but I was adamant and eventually took it upon myself to try to run away to Mumbai and become one. I cam home not even a day later but she realized that keeping an eye on me was better than me going out there by myself, so she allowed me to start modeling small time so long as I put my studies first.”

V. That’s awesome. I’m sure our readers will love to hear that. So you knew you had a calling, what came next? How did you get yourself to Hollywood? What was your first job?

“Oh well Hollywood came much, much later. It wasn’t even until I reached nineteen that I got to New York. Modeling in India is very different than modeling internationally, but someone saw my face and decided they liked it and gave my then agent a call. It was a huge deal for me, of course, as I’d been modeling creams and things but not much clothes. Fashion was the big league and I wasn’t going to turn that down. After an international campaign, even though I was just one of three models in it, I got a call to see if I wanted to be in a film -- and Indian film, which you’d call a Bollywood, but I was excited. Like most girls where I come from, I’d learned some traditional dance so that finally came in handy, and one film turned into two and so on before the calls kept coming in and one of them just happened to be from an American director. I think I was twenty-two at the time. but it seems like a lifetime ago now.”

VI. Of course, but we all know there’s a sea of faces out here trying to get famous as well, right? It must have been hard, the first few rejections or being told something wasn’t good enough. What was the most difficult thing you faced on your journey?

“Oh God, I don’t want to sound arrogant, but I never got rejected. At least not when modeling. I was charmed that way, always being chosen for things. I think the one time I was rejected came from a role I actively sought that I didn’t look the part for -- I think you can guess what that means. But I didn’t let it set me back. I think the hardest part came not from my career, but my personal life. I was still young, barely twenty-five when I met my husband and fell madly in love as one often would. But in spite of my family supporting me in everything else, they were still were still very traditional and my beloved wasn’t Indian. It caused a rift between myself and my parents and was heavily criticized by the media back home and highly covered here, but we were in love and I was willing to give up everything for him because I believed that my parents would come around. It was very hard being at odds with my family, and even when my first child came things still hadn’t been reconciled. I felt so alone; I think that was my darkest time. It even effected my work. Of course my divorce and the public embarrassment I faced wasn’t great either, but I still have my children to keep me from being lonely and being at good terms with my parents again makes up for it.”

VII. So then what was the moment that you realized you made it? Or are you still waiting for that moment?

" Made it... That’s subjective in a way, isn’t it? Everyone has a different opinion on that, don’t they? For me, I made it when I began getting calls from top designers to model their clothes on a runway, but I was twenty years old and had a lot of life to go through still. I’ve never won and Oscar or anything but I think the height of my career was around the time of my second or third Hollywood film. Of course getting pregnant slowed down my acting career and that in turn made me less spoken about. Not that I regret it, of course, because I would trade nothing for my children. But am I going to be on the cover of a gossip magazine again? God I hope not. I like being moderately spoken about now and living my life in peace. (4)

VIII. It’s amazing when you make it far enough in this town when so many people end up giving up and going home, isn’t it? So now that you’re here, what’s next for you?

"It is, and I’m thankful for every moment I lived, but I’m much too happy where I am now to go backwards. I know that it was at the cost of a messy divorce, but in spite of the fact that I have to see the man who cheated on me too often, I like that I can sleep eight or nine hours every night and that I get to spend lots of time with my children. I can’t even imagine working eighteen hours on a a set and getting three hours of sleep before having to do it all again and missing out on my children’s lives. No, I like where I’m at now. Love it, in fact. In the future the only thing I want to do is help this company grow if only so that I can leave something behind for my kids and maybe help a few people’s dreams come true in the process. I had my time.”

IX. Now we know it’s personal but we have to ask, do you have any comment about the rumors going around about you?

"Oh God, haha, of course. I think I’ve just taken care of myself and my skin over the years and people can’t find it in them to believe that I’ve just aged well. Honestly, saying I’ve had work done is just outlandish. I have not had cosmetic surgery of any kind ”

X. Thank you so much for talking to us today. Lastly, is there anything you want our readers to know about you?

" I think I’d like readers and fans to know that I am still keeping my vegetarian diet as I have all my life and that in spite of not having been there a few years, I’ve still retained all of my French.”

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boreum-dal · 8 years ago

Text

soul to keep, ch. 4

summary: marinette dupain-cheng is no stranger to unusual situations. a ghost wandering into her bedroom and pulling her into the mystery of who he was and how he died, however, is a touch out of the ordinary for her–and falling in love with him might just take the cake. ghost!adrien au.

genre: romance with equal parts (hopefully) humor and angst

cross-posted: ao3

previous: i | ii | iii

next: v

—

iv.

Marinette opened one eye, and then the other. Bright light poured into her bedroom, and for a millisecond, a wave of panic engulfed her before she realized that it was Saturday; there would be no public humiliation for her tardiness today.

Her pillow sighed as she sank back into it, now too awake from the brief adrenaline rush to fall back asleep. She couldn’t remember what she’d dreamt, but she was certain it had been about Chat. Something about the way he’d looked back at her last night, the outline of his face barely visible as he’d insisted he was all right, even as he was surely not, had ensured that the image would stay ingrained in Marinette’s mind for some time.

She threw her forearm over her eyes.

From her loft, Marinette heard her bedroom door creak open below her.

“Marinette?”

Sabine Cheng climbed carefully up the loft and made her way to Marinette’s bed, sitting just at the foot of it. The process was very slow—she had never liked heights very much.

Marinette removed her arm from her eyes and sat up. She knew where this was going. In addition to heights, Sabine had never liked conflict much, either. “Good morning, Maman.”

Sabine smoothed some of the wrinkles in the duvet where she sat. “Did you sleep okay?”

Marinette nodded. She bunched up the the sheets in her hands and then released them.

Sabine leaned forward on one hand and reached out to brush some of Marinette’s hair out of her face. Kind brown eyes crinkled as her lips curved into a remorseful smile. “You must be hungry after not eating any dinner.”

Marinette’s stomach gurgled, just so that only she could hear it, but she shook her head. “I got some leftovers out of the kitchen late last night.” She sucked in her cheeks before letting out a long breath. “I’m sorry, Maman. I shouldn’t have done what I did yesterday.”

Her mother scooted closer and wrapped Marinette in a hug. “I’m sorry, too.”

“For what?”

“It’s tough to be your age. Teenagers can be very mean to each other. Your father and I should have been more understanding.”

Marinette laughed and brushed at an eye with the back of her hand. “Not all teenagers. Just Chloé Bourgeois.”

Sabine hid a smile behind her hand. “I'd say she couldn't be that bad, but what do I know?" Marinette knew that Sabine had witnessed Chloé's diva behavior in person on more than one occasion when the girl had barged into the bakery for her parents' famed pastries. "Do you have plans today? I thought we could go to breakfast together—I could use some time out of the bakery.”

Marinette was delighted. Her parents rarely ever left the bakery during business hours. “I have to meet Alya for a movie around noon, but that’s it.”

Sabine clapped her hands together. “Great! Get dressed and I’ll meet you downstairs. We’ll stuff ourselves, and then I’ll drop you off.”

Marinette smiled and hopped out of bed as her mother left the room. Outside, it looked like it might storm, but all the gloom inside her had disappeared. As she wandered down her loft and to the bathroom to get ready, she caught herself hoping, out of nowhere, that Chat would stay dry in the rain.

---

Chat Noir meandered down a neat row of townhomes, turning his head this way and that in hopes that he’d recognize something. A few days ago, he’d stumbled across a large house in a lavish neighborhood, and somehow, it had made him feel a rush of familiarity. Unsure whether it was the size, the neighborhood, or the architecture that had seemed to trigger his memory, he’d returned to that neighborhood again and again, but he hadn’t felt the same pang—not even when he returned to the same house that had started it all. Now, he was trying the neighboring area, but it felt like a fruitless search. And with yesterday’s memory replaying over and over in his head—it was hard to focus on anything else when he only had a few memories stored up—he found it exceedingly difficult to focus.

With a sigh, he trudged up to the stone steps in front of one of the homes and sat himself down on it, briefly wary of being stared at before remembering that no one except for Marinette could see him. The clouds clapped loudly above him for the third time that morning, and before he could blink, he suddenly saw droplets of water begin to dot the ground. He watched as they fell faster and faster, going right through him but making him feel cold, all the same. And he could smell it—sweet, almost like the earth had been baking. It threw him, how he could remember this smell, how—

“Now, look at paragraph four and read it back to me, please.”

His gaze fell, reluctantly, to the book before him. It was so hot and so bright. The words seemed to jumble together. It was so hot, and he just wanted a cup of juice and to go outside for a little while, just to play for a little bit—

“___________.”

He looked up at the sound of his name.

The woman adjusted her glasses and sighed. “You’ve already had your break today. Paragraph four, please.”

But he was so hot and so restless and so tired of trying to read. He felt his lips start to quiver, but he forced himself to straighten them out into a thin line. Maman had said that crying was for young boys, boys younger than nine, and he’d just turned nine recently, so he couldn’t. But even as she’d said that, he remembered how she had let him hug her skirt and ruin it with his tears so many times.

“____________, I won’t ask again. Don’t make me tell your father.”

He didn’t like the sound of that. Slowly, he began to sound out the words. The tutor had said this book was for fourteen-year-olds. Why was he reading this again? He rubbed an eye.

“How about I take over for a bit?”

He turned to see his mother in the doorway, and joy welled up inside of him. With a nod, the tutor left the room, and his mother came in and sat beside him, smiling at him with her patient smile.

“_____________, were you being a bad student?”

He shook his head no.

She rumpled his hair. “Of course you weren’t. I think I know what you need so we can focus and get you through today’s lesson. Why don’t we take a break and go outside and play for ten minutes?”

His eyes lit up. “Yes, please.”

“Okay, go get your shoes on and I’ll meet you out in the yard,” his mother said, her smile conspiratorial now.

He got up and ran out into the yard as fast as he could—he’d been spending the last few days trying to perfect his cartwheel, and he wanted to be able to show his mother—and then he looked up, suddenly realizing it was still very hot, but no longer very bright. Dark clouds crowded the sky.

His mother came out just as the first drops of rain started to fall.

“Now we can’t play,” he said, frowning.

“Sure, we can,” his mother responded cheerfully.

“But we’ll get all wet.”

“That’s okay!” She looked up, blinking against the raindrops. “It smells so nice out here during a summer storm.”

He sniffed the air—it smelled like Maman’s cookies, somehow—and begrudgingly agreed.

His mother bent down so that she could see his eyes and slicked some of the hair out of his face. “Now, show me your cartwheels, and then let’s get you inside and dry.”

Chat jolted, as if he’d been touched by something he hadn’t expected to touch him. Although his mother’s face was already fading from his memory while everything else remained vivid, he felt a thrill when he realized that he now had a concrete recollection of one of his parents. And she seemed, from the brief vision, anyway, like a good parent, not at all what he’d expected after the memory he’d gained yesterday. This made him feel strangely buoyant.

He looked down at his hands, which, sure enough, looked slightly more solid, more tinged with apricot than the day before. The rain was still falling through them. He wondered vaguely if, before he’d died, he could still do a cartwheel.

---

Marinette rushed up the sidewalk of the movie theatre, where Alya stood waving two tickets in her hand.

“Sorry!” Marinette said between breaths. “I was having a long talk with my mom because my parents and I got into a fight last night, and—”

Alya raised a brow. “Everything okay?”

“It’s fine now. Are we late?”

Alya checked her watch. “Almost! But you made it here with a minute to spare till previews!” She grinned. “Good job.”

Marinette let out a little woop and threw her arm around Alya’s shoulder. “Let’s go, then!”

As the two navigated their way through the theatre, stopping by the concession area to purchase several boxes of candy before making their way to their screening room, Marinette reveled in the freedom of not being in the midst of a bad day. They settled into their seats and traded candy boxes as the trailers began to roll. Since they were watching a horror film, many of the previews that came on were for other horrors or thrillers, already making the atmosphere of the dark screening room a little bit creepier. Marinette didn’t spook at the movies too easily, but some of these trailers really seemed to amp up the scary factor, and as the music of the trailer currently on the screen began to crescendo—

The seat on Marinette’s left, which had been empty, suddenly filled. The music came to an abrupt halt, and Marinette looked at the seat and found herself staring into green eyes. A loud crash played over the speakers as the face of a demon flashed over the screen, and Marinette let out what she could only describe as an alarmed yip—and just like that, Chat Noir disappeared as quickly as he had come.

Alya poked Marinette’s arm on her right. “Are you okay?”

Marinette looked over at her friend, realizing that her heart was thumping very quickly against her chest and that she’d just spilled her gummy bears all over her lap. “Y-yeah, why?”

“I know the trailer was kind of creepy, but you look like you just saw a ghost.”

Marinette let out a nervous laugh. “Funny you say that.” She swallowed. “I just—these previews have really been upping the intensity. I guess I got a little scared.”

Alya looked at her dubiously. “You’d better get ready, then. I heard this movie is supposed to scare the pants off of us.”

“O-oh, good. I can’t wait,” Marinette said, but her mind was already elsewhere. Why had Chat shown up here? And why hadn’t he said anything? She hoped everything was okay.

---

That night, Marinette pulled herself onto the roof and breathed in the summer air, whose sweetness was enhanced by the residual smells of the bakery below and the rainstorm from earlier in the day. She looked around the patio, and almost immediately, her eyes landed on Chat’s sub-solid form, sitting on the ledge. She could see the outline of his legs, each one wedged between a bar of the railings and swinging back and forth over the edge of the roof. Gratitude, cool and soothing, filled her chest. She was always worried about hurting him or having hurt him.

“Hi, there,” she said, and she walked over and sat beside him, mimicking his pose exactly.

“Hello,” he said pleasantly. “I’m sorry if I frightened you earlier.”

Marinette shook her head. “I’m sorry if I made you feel unwelcome.”

“You didn’t. To tell you the truth, I didn’t even mean to show up where you were. I just—I just found you.”

Marinette turned to look at him now, staring at the outline of his face. She could make out more of it, she thought, ever so slightly—she wondered if he’d had another recollection since she’d seen him last night. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Chat said, legs still swinging, “the first time I ever found you, there was this…light coming from where you were. I followed it to you, and there you were—and you could see me. And ever since then, it’s always there, somewhere, in the background, no matter where I am.”

“A light?”

“Yes. It’s hard to explain. But it leads me to you.”

Marinette chewed on this in silence. A light. She wasn’t one to believe in magic, even after almost a week spent befriending a ghost. But she couldn’t seem to come up with any kind of scientific explanation for it.

Chat seemed to take her silence as irritation, rather than bewilderment. He said, somewhat apologetically, “Most of the time, until I know it’s time to come over when you’re actually expecting me, I ignore it. But today… I just wasn’t thinking, and I followed it, and I found you.” He paused. “I’m sorry.”

“No!” Marinette said quickly. “No, no! Don’t apologize. It’s okay! I’m just confused, I guess. I don’t know what to make of this. You’re the first magical thing to ever come into my life, you know. And then suddenly I’m emitting supernatural ghost lights for no reason? It’s a lot to take in and try to understand.”

“Tell me about it,” Chat said, and Marinette could see him holding out his hands before him.

They both laughed, and then they were silent again, Marinette lost in her questions about the light. What could it mean?

“Marinette.”

“Yes?”

“Being out with your friends like that today—do you do that a lot?” Chat’s voice was shy and curious, like he’d been dying to ask her since she’d first stepped out onto the roof.

Marinette pursed her lips. “I guess I do, when I think about it.” She tilted her head. “Do you think you did, too, when you were alive?”

Marinette had a sinking feeling that she knew the answer before Chat would even respond.

“No,” he said, and to her shock, he said it with quite a bit of certainty.

“Wh-what makes you so sure?”

Chat stared out at the city, over the rooftops of the buildings before them. “A couple of things. Today, I had a memory where I was being homeschooled. I was very young, but I don’t think anything changed as I got older. And secondly… Well, you and I are friends, right?”

Marinette nodded.

He turned his eyes to her. Inexplicably, although Marinette thought she could see sadness there, it also looked as if he might be smiling. “This is all very new to me, you see. And… I feel like, if it weren’t a new thing—if I’d had lots of good friends when I was alive—it wouldn’t feel this way. Unfamiliar and exciting, I mean. And I think it would’ve triggered a memory of other friends, from when I was living.”

Marinette was quiet. It was hard to argue with that, and it was even harder to come up with a response that didn’t sound pitying or fake or totally useless. So, instead of speaking, she leaned back and settled a hand over where she could see the outline of his. Of course, it went straight through to the floor of the patio.

Chat’s eyes moved downward, toward their hands, and then back up to Marinette. “Thanks.”

A corner of Marinette’s lips quirked up into a half-smile. “It'd be better if I could actually touch you.”

Chat let out a quiet laugh. “It's the thought that counts.”

They were silent for a while, allowing the sound of cars passing by on the streets below and of Marinette’s breathing to fill the air between them. Marinette felt overwhelmed with the volume of information she did not know about Chat, his life, his afterlife, and the enormity of the task before her. She kept finding herself trying to resolve the situation by approaching it as if he were alive, and therein lay the problem: if he were alive, there would be no mystery to solve.

And even so, if he were alive, she could at least fix his loneliness. She could introduce him to Alya and Nino and some of her other classmates, and they could fold him into their world and keep him so busy that he hardly had time to worry about anything else. And most of all, he'd feel appreciated, something she suspected he'd been lacking in his lifetime.

Marinette chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully. She would look crazy if she tried to explain to Alya that she'd befriended a ghost. But, she thought, they'd enjoyed a relatively judgment-free lifelong friendship, and it wouldn't be the first time one of them had told an unbelievable story to the other. It’d just be the first time that the story turned out to be true.

She let out a sigh. Right, then.

“Chaton.”

“Yes?”

“Maybe it’s time to show you to my friends.”

---

i feel like i should have posted this chapter on mother's day or something. alas, timing is not my forte.

next time: marinette and chat experiment with the physics of ghost rules so they can prove to alya and nino that he's real. much trial and error (emphasis on error) ensues.

thank you to everyone for supporting this fic so far! i'm so happy people are finding it entertaining and not just plain bizarre, haha. i've never been the best at updating quickly, but as chapters for this are so short and so fun to write, hopefully, i'll be relatively regular on these. :) see you next chapter!

#miraculous ladybug #ml #miraculousdaily #mlfanfic #marichat #adrinette #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #chat noir #soul to keep #fics #fanfic

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asksansweredpdf · 6 years ago

Text

These are actually solid questions

1. First thing you wash in the shower? my hair

2. Are you more of a coffee or alcohol drinker? i can’t stand coffee. and alcohol might as well be my blood at this point

3. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? haha noooo. he was nice but i felt literally nothing. was like kissing a brick wall or something. tbh i never feel much when i kiss boys

4. Do you plan outfits? YES. i’m a drama queen and a diva and flamboyant and i need to look good always. i have my graduation in 2 days and i still haven’t planned what to wear and it’s bothering me

5. How are you feeling RIGHT now? tbh pretty numb. like not happy and not sad. just. .... chillin

6. Whats the closest thing to you thats red? my track pants

7. What would you do if you opened your door and saw a dead body? well with the mood im in now, i probably wouldn’t react. but the logical side of my brain would kick in and i’d phone it in to the police.

8. Tell me about the last dream you remember having? it’s still that one about the creepy old dude touching me in the car.

9. Three of your current feelings? -introspective -apathetic

-wistful

10. What are you craving right now? tbh i would very much love to hug my stuffed pink harold. but he’s downstairs and i just don’t have the energy to walk haha

11. Turn ons? not rly in the mood to answer these

12. Turn offs?

13. What comes to mind when I say cabbage? this vine

14. When was the last time you cried? Why? idk like over a month ago. i had to work a thursday night shift which is always super stressful. and that day my sister just started beating the shit out of me so the anxiety was like double

15. If you could be a superhero, who would you want to be? ironman. any day. or spiderman because it’d be fun to just swing around the city listening to music peacefully

16. Did the one person who hurt you most in your life apologize? nope. she doesn’t even know that i know about half the shit she did. never ever apologised about the stuff she knows i know about. no acknowledgement. no apology. just pretends it never happened

17. Do you bite into your ice cream or just lick it? lick it

18. Favorite movie ever? idk i like frozen and pride and prejudice and the hunger games

19. Do you like yourself? i like myself, but i can’t seem to justify why. i don’t really have an identity. i don’t know what i’m like. and so it’s hard to like myself when i don’t know what i like about my self, or why i do. but i enjoy being myself.

20. Have you ever met a celebrity? i met stan walker once? he’s a minor celebrity in australlia

21. Could you handle being in the military? part of me would thrive in the structure and forced exercise and socialisation. another part of me would completely crumble because like i have anxiety

22. What are you listening to right now? i don’t give a ... - missio

23. How many countries have you visited? india, america, canada, australia. so 4 i guess

24. Are your parents strict? you betcha

25. Would you go sky diving? sure yeah. i’m afraid of heights so the adrenaline would be wild

26. Would you go out to eat with George W. Bush? nah. i dont give a shit about him. maybe i’d go if he paid for the food.

27. Whats on your mind right now? literally nothing. mostly thinking about endgame. i’m also thinking about taking my mum’s anti anxiety meds since she doesn’t use them and i have anxiety. but i don’t want to take them without professional advice. but also, i am a professional advice. and like what could happen? i’d get mentally ill?

28. Is there anything you want to say to someone? nah i dont really feel like talking atm. i guess i’d ask if they wanted to go for a smoke. i would love a cig rn

29. Have you ever been in a castle? no but i would love to!!

30. Do you rent movies often? not really, i just watch stan/netflix

31. Whats your zodiac sign? cancer sun, leo moon, libra rising

32. When was the last time you had sex? i haven’t had sex

33. Name five facts about yourself. i honestly don’t think i know enough about myself to do this but let’s give it a go -i have short hair -i love music more than literally anything -i turn 21 this year and i have no idea what to do for it -i’m thinking of getting a motorbike soon -i’ve never broken a bone

34. Ever had a near death experience? If so, what happened? nope

35. Do you believe in karma or predestiny? i used to. and i absolutely would love to believe in all that stuff. but not to sound angsty or whatever, i’ve had so many shitty things happen to me that it’s hard for me to believe that it’s all part of some big plan or that there is any justice in the world. i think people just do shit and that’s it

36. Brown or white eggs? ive never had white eggs so..... brown?

37. Do you own something from Hot Topic? nah we dont have it in australia

38. Ever been on a train? yeah man i love trains

39. Ever been in love? not mutually, no

40. If you were paid 1 million dollars to spend the night in a supposed haunted house, would you do it? it’s a million bucks. absolutely. one night of terror to never have to worry about anything ever again. i’m a witch too so as much as i’d be scared, it’d be fine.

41. If you could trade places with any person living or dead, who would you trade places with? someone rich and famous. maybe harry styles or freddie mercury. i’m sure they didn’t have it easy, but it’s certainly easier than things have/ever will be for me you know?

42. If you could shorten your life expectancy by 10 years to become more attractive, would you do it? absolutely

43. Whom do you admire and why? i tend not to admire irl people. but i do admire tony stark a lot (GOD this is so lame ksajrsjkfs). i admire his charisma, his confidence, his humour, his good looks, his intelligence, his eyes. he embodies everything i feel like i can never be. but everything i’ll always want to be. i admire freddie mercury. for his work drive and ethic. for his confidence and stage presence, his ability and talent in singing, songwriting, musical instruments. his flamboyancy, his sense of humour. again, these are all qualities i would love to have.

44. What was your favorite bedtime story as a child? oh i never really got read bedtime stories

45. You’re walking down the street, you come across a burning building. A woman says her baby is trapped inside, what would you do? internally, i’d be like “that sucks for you” and walk away. but i can’t be a dick, so i’d assess the extent of the fire and see if there was a way to save the baby. i’d try if so, if not idk what i’d do. panic and call 000?

46. If you could choose the future profession of your son or daughter, would you? nah man. gotta let kids live their lives

47. What was your best experience on drugs or alcohol? alcohol: the night i just moved out of home 2 weeks ago. my roommate invited a friend over, and we all had fun and played never have i ever and i flirted with this really cute guy and had so much fun. i hadn’t really had any experiences like that before because i was - anyway. it was nice to feel like a normal 19 year old just for a second weed: either the time i was drunk and high at our housewarming party and went to the park and felt like i was on a fucking rollercoaster, or the time i got super cooked after work and had a shower which felt amazing and then went back to my room and listened to beautiful people beautiful problems. i didn’t hallucinate per se, but i closed my eyes and could like see the lyrics “blue is the colour of the planet from the view above”. it was like i was in outer space and could see the earth and i was so relaxed and it was so magical mdma: my halloween party! there were so many people and no one knew i was high and we had a mad dance party and i met some of our neighbours and i just had so much fun talking to everyone and Living.

48. What was your worst experience on drugs or alcohol? alcohol: being around boring people when drunk is boring. especially because when i’m drinking i really want to have a good and fun time. weed: ahh i have anxiety so i used to get a few panic attacks when i was smoking mdma: eugh it was my friends 21st at the time and we took mdma and i thought it wasnt kicking in because all we did was sit in bed and talk. literally so boring. im so mad that i wasted my first time like that

50. As your walking down the street you find a suitcase full of money sitting next to a parked car, would you take it? nah, i’d probably hand it in to the police. actually, i dont trust the police so i’d probably google what to do with it. but probably police because i cant have stolen money or give it to someone else.

51. If you found that a close friend has AIDS, would you still hang out with them? not hanging out with someone because of that has literally never even crossed my mind

52. In front of you are 10 pistols, 5 of which are loaded. If you survive you’d receive 100 million dollars. Would you be willing to place 1 to your head and pull the trigger? nah. i’m actually going places now days

53. How old were you when you lost your virginity? tba

54. Do you believe in ghosts, werewolves or vampires? nope

55. If you could live forever, would you want to? yeah probably. i’d like to give it a trial run though. i’m very anxious, so being lonely and immortal might make it worse. but at the same time, being immortal might make it easier to not give a shit and to be less anxious

56. Which fictional movie character most resembles who you are? honestly i feel like jane villanueva or peter parker

57. If you could go back in time, which time period would you visit? i would love to be a victorian bitch with a bomb ass dress and waist

58. If they were to televise a live execution, would you watch it? probably not. unless it was someone i really hated, i wouldnt give a shit

59. If you could be the president of the USA, would you be willing to do it? i mean i wouldn’t be the best person for the job, but i also wouldn’t be the worst. if i could have time to properly study politics then yeah i’d consider.

60. If you could choose the sex of your unborn child, would you want to? i’d probably want a girl but i dont really see any reason to not have a boy

61. Would you rather live longer or be wealthy? be wealthyyyyyy

#mine

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