#The entire last third of that movie is flashing-hell

[arcticwanderer]

I’m photophobic myself, if I’m in a dark room and a movie starts flashing shit it feels like someone is physically stabbing my eyeballs. I hate the amount of flashing in media these days because I don’t appreciate feeling like someone is shoving needles into my retinas...

Accommodations for 1 minority group often overlaps with so many other conditions that no one even thought of, with no net loss for people who are not negatively impacted by it. If it’s a minor change, then (imo) you’re an asshole for choosing to not make it.

I just want to be able to see the whole movie/show...

god it feels like lately we have lost so much progress in terms of movies and tv and gaming actually remembering that people with photosensitivity conditions (epilepsy, migraine, etc) exist and that it’s SO FREAKING EASY to not include effects in your media that will send them straight to hell

we went from early 2000s “we are all petrified of another Pokémon Shock incident so let’s be nice to the people whose brains can’t handle the flashes” to “nearly every movie and tv show has a flashing lights warning crowdsourced on social media and games have been so emboldened to not give a fuck that we had a game with a literal seizure inducing machine built in”. I literally do not get to watch anything on launch day anymore unless I think it’s worth the extremely non zero chance of having up to a week of pain so bad it can make me faint.

what the absolute fuck happened??

[ririsasy]

I was curious, have you heard what's happening with the filming of Salaar Part 2? Last I remember, Prabhas was supposed to start filming it this month. But now there are rumors that it's been postponed indefinitely because of his schedule with other movies.

Me thinking about the fate of Salaar like :

Honestly I really don’t know 😭😭 I don’t think it’s entirely because of Prabhas’ schedule but all three of them Prithvi, Prashanth, and of course Prabhas they are busy as hell, Salaar 1 almost being made without Prithvi because he was stuck filming The Goat life and almost couldn’t match his schedule with them but for some reason they pushed through and we have salaar got released in fairly on schedule time.

At first it was supposed to be only 1 movies but after they heard the narration of the story from Prashanth both Prithvi and Prabhas thought it would be better if Salaar split into 2 parts so the could flash out the story more then enter another problem that Salaar is too R rated so they basically have to accept that rating or cut some part and Prabhas said he rather keep all the scenes so they have to accept the R rating, I think they lost the “family” time movies with this final editing and kinda suffer at the box office a bit and perhaps it didn’t lend the number or the hype they were hoping.

Salaar is a success but I think not successful enough 😭 and might be part of the reason why the next project kinda suffer for this kind of uncertainty.

During Prithviraj press tour for The Goat life when he was asked about Salaar he himself said that they would immediately start shooting as soon as their schedule aligned and it might sooner than what we all fans think and he said it around April 😭😭 bruh now it’s already August. So clearly they already have conversation together and excited to return.

But not Prithvi is busy shooting his third directorial movie and finishing all the empuram shoot basically, Prashanth start shooting with NTR wtf and Prabhas has like at least 10 line up of movies to shoot or to promote wtf like chill out what about SALAAR 2 Guyssss

😭😭😭😭

I really don’t know the fate of Salaar 2 at this point the fact that they barely have any press tour for the first movie also contributes to this movie not reaching many audiences in the first place. But Salaar is like dream project for Prashant he loves it so much and Prithvi also has a soft spot for Varadha character, he used to talk about it in his twitter 😭 baby I don’t have answer to you, what left for us now is just to pray that they will not shelved this second movie forever.

PLEASE JOIN ME EVERYONE IN THIS PRAYING CIRCLE SO SALAAR 2 will definitely be made sooner or later, aameen.

[mostlygibberish]

I liked the part with the tomboy.

Tomboy is the answer to that age old question: "What if there was a mechanic in a small town, except she was a beautiful woman with big boobs, I'm talking huge tits, just massive honkers, and they were always bouncing around in slow-motion because she was a tomboy who never wore a bra, and also her top got wet one time and you could see her nipples right through it and then she took her top off completely, and one time she was in the shower rubbing her hands over her soapy naked body, and also her legs were long and sexy and the camera panned over them real slow and close, and then she won a car race or something?"

The entire first third of this movie was spent establishing that Betsy Russell plays a hot tomboy, literally named Tomasin Boyd, and that she likes cars, even though she's a woman. The middle third was about her inexplicably falling in love with a dopey asshole who constantly belittled and disrespected her, then tried to sexually assault her while he thought she was unconscious. She woke up and giggled about it, because of course she did. The last third was where the entire "plot" took place. That is they held a boring motor race, which she won through the sheer power of being a hot tomboy.

I can't stress enough how stupid and misogynistic this was; It barely felt like a real movie at all. Every woman was constantly getting naked in public and being propositioned and groped by total strangers. There was more than one scene where a woman was insulting a guy but then he just straight up whipped his dick out and she was overtaken by desire for him.

The guy she was supposed to be madly in love with laughed in her face when she said she could beat him in a race, then her best friend told her she had no chance of winning because she's a woman. When she went to her father figure for advice, he told her that the boyfriend was just "putting her in her place" by mocking her and her lifelong passion. In a completely bizarre reversal, he then gave her a custom racing jumpsuit he'd had made, because he had so much faith she would win the race he just told her she couldn't possibly win.

The only part even resembling a plot was the finale, and that was stupid as hell. It's unclear why they were even holding the race, let alone why there was prize money on offer. They kept referring to the cars as "stock", but they were hideously custom built things. Her car had a ridiculous boxy air intake along the roof, which fed some sort of experimental jet engine she had designed in her spare time, complete with pointless flashing sci-fi lights on the dash.

The best I can say about Tomboy is that Betsy Russell did a decent job in the lead role, even if there wasn't anywhere to actually lead it. The same cannot be said for Gerard Christopher, who seemed to be under the effects of some sort of tranquilliser the entire time. Kristi Somers was the only other person to get substantial screentime, and her character was just kind of annoying and pointless.

Tomboy feels like the failed efforts of a sleazy porno studio to make a "real" movie. Emphasis on "failed".

[fergusontakesonallcomers]

Ferguson takes on all comers one shell at a time part one: Equestrian epic: Chapter 3: Join Driver Anon and co for a crazy thrill as the rebels ride free!!!

”It’s almost time,” Squirrel Slayer Anon said, replacing his green mask with a Guy Faux one as his allies did the same, he was holding a Winchester 1887 shotgun and had a bag of homemade napalm shells attached to his hip; he'd almost burnt down a forest with them while hunting squirrels for a laugh. 

Another one spoke up nervously clutching his M16, “may I meet my fox family again in my dreams”. The others looked at him, he was the one who’d dreamt of a happy life with a fox family they could all relate to some extent.

“Lets Drive” stated the third member of the group, he had no clearly visible weapons and was dressed like “The Driver” from the movie “Drive”

The last one of the group was hunched in the corner with her back to their comrades and just looking at the Blahaj they had stored in their backpack .  “They haven’t launched the sign-” as she spoke a flare broke out across the 4Chan and United States base. In the distance someone screamed “For Equestria! Forever!” as bright flashes of gunfire started noisily punching holes in the night.

“There it is” said Squireslayer Anon, chambering a round, as a marine rounded the corner, his face was burnt clean off sending him screaming to the ground. Squirrelslayer anon slammed his boot down on his skull shattering it, “Let’s move out, We won’t have the advantage for long!”.

They rushed out of the pony house they were sheltering in and started to lay about themselves with their weapons; their former marine and 4Chan allies weren't expecting a coup. Others had been watching the developments as they spread out from 4Chan, portals to other worlds? Real magic or science? The feds were covering up something big and everyone wanted in on what was happening, if that involved open rebellion against the government then that was just fine with them. Things back on earth weren't going so hot  with the whole world seemingly slowly going to hell. It wasn't hard infiltrating the 4Chan extremists either, you just kinda had to show up and go through a dull average type recruitment process. There were people watching fro those voicing different opinions, but few had been caught, most knew better and kept their mouths shut. It helped that more than a few rebels were well known for some post or another, they were trusted more heavily and sometimes even treated kinda like celebrities by the unknowing extremists.

“Seize the portal and cut off reinforcements, sounds so simple on paper, shit man real combats fucking scary” SquirrelSlayer complained to no one in particular ducking behind a crate as marines and extremists opened up on his position. 

“I almost wish i’d never come” Foxdreamer agreed timidly firing over the crates, all around them everything had gone utterly mental. The resistance group sent to capture the portal was small but had caught the enemy unprepared. However the marines didn't seem to be responding in an entirely human fashion, as though fear wasn't a factor they’d just accepted the resistance and returned fire locking the rebels into a brutal skirmish, worse yet the resolve of the  marines had given heart to their 4Chan extremist allies who recovered quickly, there was suspicion amongst them of rebels after all.

“Say, who’s in charge anyway?” asked Closeted anon lobbing a stolen grenade over the crates.

“I’m not really sure, there's people like us who sort of banded together but there's gotta be larger, more put together groups don’t you think?” Squirrelslayer said as he and Foxdreamer popped over the crates and dropped the remaining Marines and Extremists who’d had them pinned down. “Right let’s move, I've got a bad feeling everythings going to go terribly wrong”.

The group dashed across Ponyville the night light up around them by the blaze of battle be it flashes of gunfire or spreading flames attempting to consume the battleground. Several members of the party cursed as they saw another rebel try to run up beside them only to be punched off the ground and mortal coil alike by several leaden fists, their chest weeping red rage at the life lost. Sqirrelslayer and Foxdreamer strafed the night from which the shooting star had struck their comrade. 

“Oh shit I don't want to die, I really really don’t, I’m so, I'm so..” Foxdreamers eyes were screwed shut trying to get the image out of his mind causing him to be cut off as he stumbled and rolled to a stop. The others joined him behind the rubble he’d fallen behind, pulling Driver Anon to the ground as he had decided to stand stoically over the rubble.

“It’s frightening but i’m not dying to some ‘tards, what a disgraceful death” Squirrelslayer spat like a cobra as he reloaded his shotgun.

Taking a second to breathe, Foxdreamer Anon thought of his fox family, Squirrelslayer thought of adventure and power, Driver Anon was just looking to be a hero in any way he could and Closeted Anon wanted to stick it to the man. Before they left the U.S had had turned more and more authoritarian the already nightmarish election  grew steadily worse, then things seemed like they might pull through somehow and then bam. Some nutjob role playing as Uncle Sam came out of bumfuck nowhere and taken over the states in a clearly staged election, rules grew worse and worse as the U.S turned more authoritarian. The world had turned upside down in 2020 and with things only steadily decreasing since then taking part in a war for a fictional land was just par for the course as far as anyone in the group was concerned.

“Shit, we’ve got contact again!” Squirrelslayer Anon grunted firing napalm shells over his opponents cover and dousing the mumbling marines setting them ablaze, they tried to calmly pat themselves down and to stop drop and roll but the burning concoction was stuck fast. Gunfire sounded from behind them and it was all Closeted and Foxdreamer Anon could do to suppress their adversaries accuracy as they fired back with their automatic weapons and then in a flash it happened.

An extremist wearing an absurd costume was upon them in a flash, his armour was a green and red suit of samurai armour atop it was a head enclosed in a grotesque pepe mask. He swung his katana down upon Foxdreamer anon, and then he was punched violently from his feet. 

Driver Anon stood above the toppled elite warrior clutching a hammer in one gloved hand, malice bled through the unblinking black lens of his glasses. The two met amongst the house, shattered like the life of its occupants, moving fast and brutal Driver Anon knocked the elite soldiers Katanna arm to one side sliding it down the outside of his Left arm as his right darted in with the hammer and slammed it through the mouthpiece of the pepe mask and bashing into the skull of it’s wearer who slumped to the ground, unfortunately he was not alone.

Closeted Anon ducked and rolled as a Katana swept through where she once was, Squirrelslayer Anon parried a blow using his shotgun as a club Foxdreamer Anon who lay with his back on the ground  drew a 1911 and fired at his attacker. Driver Anon Grabbed his fallen opponents Katanna  and a grenade from his belt before turning to Join his comrades.

Squirrelslayer Anon slammed the butt of his gun into the stomach of a 4Chan elite and whirled around but failed to move fast enough as a slash skimmed his chest and knocked him to the ground. Foxdreamer Anon was Cornered and in a tense Stalemate with two of the elites each party aiming their weapons at the other poised for the death blow.  Closeted Anon finally came to a halt as she rolled into a wall upside down and on the ground she watched as an Elite loomed above her raising his Katana. 

Then once again Driver Anon was in and amongst the crowd, he ran past the two threatening Foxdreamer Anon and barreled into the one above Squirrelslayer anon knocking the soldier to the ground. Wrenching the one Bringing his Katana down on Closeted anon he threw him into the soldiers all around the group. Foxdreamer took his chance and blasted his distracted attackers. Closeted Anon helped Squirrelslayer Anon to his feet and all watched as Driver Anon lay about himself hammer in one hand Katana the other. He thrust the katana in one helmet and then whirled and knocked back a soldier with a well placed hammer blow to the top of his helmet. Grabbing another Elite by the bottom of his Grotesque mask resembling Pepe screaming Driver anon delivered a brutal ‘eadbutt. Then he was still  and his comrades all drew in a breath. Driver Anon grunted as he looked down at the kattana that had pierced him from behind to the right of his spine, then grinning he held up a pinless grenade “It is what it is” Driver Anon spoke profoundly. 

“We gotta go!” Screamed Closeted Anon  as she and Foxdreamer Anon flanked Squirrel Slayer Anon who was losing blood rapidly to help him walk, they began to hunt for some form of safety. As they did so they talked amongst themselves. 

“Those must have been the Tardwranglers” Squirrelslayer Anon grunted, “I hear their the elite of the extremists army, there surprisingly numerous and surprisingly competent more often than not, I didn't really believe it and still don’t if some guy pretending to be The Driver kicked their ass that hard”.

“Oh C’mon that guy kicked butt, he took on, what, 12 guys on his own right before they could finish smearing us on the curb like jelly on toast” Closeted Anon argued.

“Squirrelslayer Anon started laughing as Foxdreamer and Closeted Anon helped Squirrelslayer Anon through a window in a relatively untouched house. “What we’ve got my good friends is an adventure and a chance to do some good! Gone are our days wageslaving for some capitalist prick, may our remaining days be filled with screaming, running and violence, for the greater good, Freedom!” Squirrelslayer Anon proclaimed taking a flask of whiskey out from his coat and taking a swig before passing it around.

First Closeted Anon who agreed silently proclaiming “freedom!” took the flask before passing the Whisky to Foxdreamer Anon who smiled, raised the Flask “Freedom!” took a swig and passed it back as the sun began to rise behind them. 

Closeted anon tore open Squirrelslayer Anon's shirt and inspected his wound, liberally dousing it in whisky from the flask. “No telling what sort of shit would be on a 4Chan soldiers blade” she muttered through a mouth full of thread as she worked on applying her knowledge of handcrafting plushies to sew Sqirrelslayer Anons wound back together as he grimaced and leaned his head back to look at the roof and away from his wound.

There was a noise from upstairs as Foxdreamer Anon swept the cramped building barely big enough to fit the rebels. Following quickly, not even seconds later, in the wake of the noise was a “what in the actual fuck” from Foxdreamer Anon. 

A furry creature whose purple and white hair mixed in a swirling pattern came down the stairs, their head and legs jutting out from a small blanket clearly taken from the household that they’d wrapped around themselves. 

Foxdreamer Anon was behind them, his M16 lowered, “I found her cowering upstairs, poor thing, she must be from the 4Chan extremist base/brothel that got teleported here in an accident”.

 The furry sat themselves in a corner trying to cover as much of themselves with the  blanket as possible as the group discussed what to do. 

“We’ll have lost our advantage of surprise and although wounded I can still kick ass but I'm worth like, ten, of those assholes on my own and there's a lot more than 10 waiting to kick our ass, looks like we’ll be leaving town” Squirrelslayer Anon started.

“Good thing there's that large castle on the mountain to walk towards, at least we’ve got some kinda goal” Closeted Anon added as she rummaged in her bag for a spare set of clothing to give to the abused Furry hunkering down in the corner.

“Do you think”, Foxdreamer Anon swallowed nervously, “he’s not only real, but here?”

“Huh? Is who real? Who’s here?” Closeted Anon asked as she pulled a spare uniform from her bag.

Squirrelslayer Anon took a cushion from a nearby upturned couch and placed it under his head, grunting as he strained his stitches. “I think he’s talking about Ferguson” Answered Squirrelslayer Anon. “I'd say he’s real allright, because I saw him, that base teleporting here was no accident. Dashing through the corridors I only got a glimpse but I saw him, he’s terrifying, tall, coated in gore and dirt, even wearing his victims if it was a cosplay it was pretty convincing. Squirrelslayer Anon finished drinking from his flask before holding it out to Closeted Anon who’d just walked back over from giving her spare uniform to the furry who was getting changed upstairs “give this to the Furry will you?”.

“You think he’s here right now? He’s unkillable right? So he’s got to be around hasn't he?” Foxdreamer Anon shivered and wrapped his arms around himself.  

“If he is around we’ve got to be careful” spoke Closeted Anon as she turned the flask in her hands. Then she looked at Squirrelslayer Anon, “Hold on, you were in the base that got destroyed?”

“Yeah, it was really something, ‘course I just locked myself in a Janitors cupboard and prayed like hell after I saw Ferguson” Squirrelslayer Anon chuckled, “An unkillable monster, an army of crazed brainwashed children, 4chan extremists, multicoloured ponies and inter dimensional sex slaves, yeah, now those are the components of a proper adventure, we’re gonna have fun with this one boys”.

The furry spoke for the first time as they came back downstairs the blanket still wrapped protectively around themselves. “The prison Guards often spoke of Ferguson, so did some of the other inmates, they were screaming about him, as the base was torn apart as well, who is he?”.

Squirrelslayer Anon knew the most about Ferguson and rose to the question, “he’s some kinda psychotic maniac who goes around and uses magic to invade childrens fanfics before frightening the living daylights out of them”. 

“There's more, people swear that his presence in your stories leaves you unable to write them, assuming he leaves anything left of your fiction to work with” Foxdreamer Anon added.

“My fellow inmates who talked of him did so like he was some kinda boogeyman, hardly surprising from the look I got at him, though at that time I wished he was there to kill me”, the furry fell silent after that, accepted the offered flask and slunk back to their corner. 

“Right” Squirrelslayer Anon spoke up, “I know we’re all really tired but we’d best get a move on, they'll find out where we’re hiding soon enough”.

Squirrel Slayer wished he’d never spoken when Foxdreamer Anon started to scream a warning before the top of his head was messily ripped from his body. Exploding like a bloodsoaked  frag grenade made of bone Foxdreamers head evaporated above the jaw and his body slammed to the ground spread eagle on its back.

“You fucking bastards!” Closeted Anon choked out holding back tears as she fired a burst over the windowsill in the direction the leaden punch had flown from.

“Surrender and bring out your oil” the Marine with the megaphone shook his head, “I mean selves, surrender and bring yourselves out!” he just couldn't think straight these days. 

Squirrelslayer cursed violently as he painfully moved for his shotgun as the front door was kicked open. The lever on the shotgun moved like greased lightning as two extremists were knocked from their feet splashing across the ground. “There's no cover in here!” he complained as he backed towards the stairs in a crouch Closeted Anon following suit.

Just then the gun fire tearing the house apart like tissue paper were either redirected or stopped completely, Squirrelslayer and Closeted Anon looked at each other with confusion. No sooner had they done so then the gunfire began to cease completely as screaming could be heard from outside the duo looked at each other in fear, Could it be, Ferguson? No! It was a military jeep and it smashed clean through the wall before drifting to a stop, threatening to tip and then settling down on all four tires, and the driver? None other than Driver Anon himself, coated in a layer of soot and dirt, blood soaked his lower abdomen where he’d been stabbed and a good chunk of his face around the top of his lip on the right side of his face had been torn away. 

“A-aren't you dead?” Closeted Anon asked.

Driver Anon looked her in the eyes and said “I don’t die, I drive”

Squirrelslayer Anon was grinning ear to ear but it wasn't as joyful as it could be “bad ass man” he turned to look where Foxdreamer Anon’s now mangled body lay twisted into a lumpy pile by the jeep, “but if only you’d been a little sooner”.

Closeted Anon rested her hand on Squirrelslayer Anon’s shoulder, “I hope he’s with his family, best he forgets everything else as well really, he’d probably be happiest that way”.

[lilycat0112]

“First off, you need to consider the location I was sleeping in. My window picks up noise from outside so throughout my slumber I could always hear cars going by. Of course, in my dreams I didn’t think they were cars. Just keep that in the back of your mind. It started off incredibly chill, and kind of like a movie. Basically the setting was in Hollywood in the future. Some event happened in this universe that caused all the “hacks” to stay out of there. Hacks I think meaning like sleazy agents or something. I say hacks in quotes because it was someone else who gave me this whole exposition dump. He had this cool way of speaking. It was this slightly raspy but also deep voice. At the time this voice was what I thought was an internal monologue coming from myself as an older guy. Like, I was talking to someone else. because remember franca, and I can’t stress this enough, it started off super chill. I was driving a red convertible as the sun was setting. Eventually I parked out front a building with sterile cold white architecture. It was then night time. Apparently this was a Dunkin’ Donuts, but it had a lot of unnatural hallways leading to the actual donut store, including a white room with a narrow hallway where I parked my car. I went inside the Dunkin’ and there was 3 people. An employee, a guy eating a donut and a guy currently ordering. This parts a bit fuzzy but the guy eating the donut was talking shit to the guy in front of me. The guy in front said nothing. Because it was a dream and I was a lot more confident, I spoke on behalf of the guy in the front and told donut guy off. Cut to me leaving the Dunkin, and donut guy and guy in the front are waiting. They pull knives on me. I get in my convertible (which remember Is inside for some reason) and the three of us all scream at once. I ram the car into them. That’s when things took a really dark turn. See, before this I thought I was this smooth talking action hero narrating my story to some audience. Turns out I was the audience. Suddenly my vision does the thing in games when you switch into third person. I’m not me. The guy I was looks completely different. He was pale white and wore shades. He pulled a gun and shot the guy in front, who was crawling down the hallway. The room went silent (aside from the humming of cars outside), until the man looked at me. He said in that calm voice “they didn’t know each other”. After that the dream became an incoherent flashing of different images and sequences. The only I remember was a man on a talk show stage, but it was like a hundred of these images zipping by every second. Then abruptly it stops and I’m in a black void. Suddenly the guy in front’s head faded in. Pieces Of his face were constantly moving, as if his skin was made of water. But each piece moved inward, and at the center was a smaller version of the guy in front, screaming his mind off. The same happened with the donut guy. But finally the pale white guy’s face appeared (shades still on). His face didn’t move, and there wasn’t a smaller version of himself. I heard his voice say “they’re in their own kind of hell” as this vibrating noise started filling my ears. Suddenly the vibrating noise cut out and the last thing I saw was the white guy back in the room with the Cadillac. He was talking to someone else, and lecturing him on speech. He said “well, you can say anything. That doesn’t mean it’s the entire truth. For example, I could say that I saw a fly. But that wouldn’t provide you with any context as to what the fly’s importance is”. The guy I couldn’t see says something and the last thing I remember before waking up was the white guy saying “Well suppose I say that I met two people today. That would be true, but it hardly encapsulates what really happened”. I swear to god this was the most terrifying nightmare I’ve ever had.”

My brother texted me at 5 am that he had the most horrific nightmare. He then proceeded to text it to me. I am going to transcribe it here

[9tzuyu]

ticket for one

prompt: accidentally taking someone’s seat at the movie theater

note: i am not at all afraid of horror, i loveeeee horror movies. but i had to work with my imagination. gonna try and push myself more to write :). hope you guys enjoy. thank u moli for proofreading.

🏷 : @wandaromanova @c-is-writing @nermalina

. . .

it wasn’t often that natasha was able to go out and enjoy a life of her own. she was needed almost 24/7 at her job. natasha wasn’t one to complain, but even the most skilled and profound agents couldn’t avoid exhaustion.

she needed a break. and per natasha’s request, she asked for a few weeks off several months prior.

a touch of normalcy greeted natasha as soon as she arrived at her destination. it was a small, forgotten town just a few states over, but it was one that functioned perfectly fine on its own. she felt lighter being away from new york, like she could finally breathe on her own.

the maryland wind kept natasha’s lips dry and chapped while loose red hair brushed against her face. her hands were shoved deep in the pockets of her jacket in an attempt to stay warm. she felt small.

“for such a well-trained spy, you sure know how to forget the basic necessities,” she mumbled to herself.

natasha didn’t have anything in particular planned for the day. she would probably stop by the store and pick up a few essentials, maybe go to the park and sit for a while. it was only a three-block walk, not far at all compared to the hikes she’s had to do for missions.

on her way there a brightly lit cinema caught the russian’s eye. she stopped in her tracks. natasha couldn’t remember the last time she went to the theaters. a vague memory of her and yelena dragging melina into the theater flashed across natasha’s mind.

her eyes followed the dimly lit board to see the 80s version of house on sorority row was playing. she bit her lip, finally giving in when she was greeted with the smell of freshly made popcorn. natasha was just in time too, the trailers for other movies would still be playing.

and even though natasha had a comfortable amount of confidence, she couldn’t lie to herself, it did feel pretty awkward asking for one singular ticket.

human nature, she supposed.

she was quick to select a seat on the digital screen, picking the farthest one away from the screen on the outside corner of the aisle.

however, when natasha made her way into the theater, she frowned. someone else was already sitting in her selected seat. it was a dumb thing to be annoyed by, she knew that, but she needed to sit there. natasha wasn’t one to shy away from confrontation either.

so the redhead made her way in front of your line of view.

“uhm can i help you?”

natasha hated that you looked so adorable as you stared at her.

“you’re in my seat.”

“o-oh, i’m sorry.” you blushed shyly, squirming your way out of her seat and down a few spots. there was a gap of 4 chairs between the two of you. she watched as you embarrassingly made yourself comfortable in your newly selected location.

you’d never been more thankful for a nearly empty theater in your life. lucky for you, the movie began to play.

but fifteen minutes later you found yourself staring at the redhead. she looked half tense, her fingers tapped on the armrest. then you noticed her choice of clothing – a grey sweatshirt with perfectly fitted sweatpants, but not the kind you’d wear around your house. your eyes traveled to her face, and oh my god you’d never seen a woman more beautiful than her.

“i know you didn’t pay to stare at me the entire time now did you?” her tone of voice was lighthearted, so you knew she wasn’t being rude.

and once again, you’d embarrassed yourself in front of the woman.

“i didn’t pay at all actually,” you stammered. “sorry for…. staring.” she nodded her head and averted her eyes back to the screen. you followed suit, this time promising yourself not to make any more awkward mistakes.

you completely missed the grin natasha had on her face. she found it kind of funny that you’d snuck in, but she couldn’t really blame you. movie tickets weren’t always worth the cost.

throughout the movie natasha could see you shift uncomfortably out of the corner of her eye, sometimes cringing at bloody scenes. she giggled before moving to sit next to you.

“sneak into the wrong movie?” her voice startled you causing your hand to fall over your chest. your eyes snapped down to her lips, only to be met with a smirk. “hi.” you whispered softly. natasha almost instantly caught on to the fact that you didn’t recognize her.

she didn’t want to sound arrogant or anything, but she’s an avenger. who didn’t know about the group of six? nonetheless, the russian relaxed a little more knowing you wouldn’t bombard her with questions.

“do you need to hold my hand?” her teasing nature and the fact that she was drop-dead gorgeous completely wrecked your brain. the mystery woman raised her eyebrow in question, clearly still waiting on your answer.

“i don’t even know your name.”

“natasha.”

you nodded, “well, natasha, i’m y/n. and yes- yes, i’d like to hold your hand.” she flipped the armrest up so you could be more comfortable before clasping her hand in yours. you felt warm in contrast to her cold fingertips and you took note of the softness of her skin.

neither one of you knew exactly what you were doing, but you both surprised yourselves by enjoying the other’s company.

a third of the way through the movie natasha looked down to see you unknowingly leaning into her side. it was cute.

“first you’re in my seat, now you’re cuddling into my arm. are we on a date, y/n?”

when you realized how close you were to the complete stranger of a woman, you pushed yourself away. apologies began to spill out but natasha was quick to cut you off by cupping her hand over your mouth.

“do you plan on sneaking into any other movies today?” you shook your head, confused as to why natasha was asking you this question. “do you have any plans after this?” once again you shook your head.

you were just about to ask her why she was questioning you when she cut you off.

“then let me take you out on a date.”

“what?”

natasha hid her nervousness – because honestly, what the hell was she even thinking? asking a stranger to go out on a date with her?

she licked her lips, “would you like to go out- on a date with me?”

you broke out into a smile, squeezing her hand for reassurance. “yes, i would love that.”

who knew such a simple mistake could result in a pretty woman taking you out on a date?

[phoenixyfriend]

Widows on Kamino (MCU Crossover)

I watched the Black Widow movie last night. I have. Thoughts.

There's this fairly short scene, maybe two thirds of the way through, that just made me want Natasha and Yelena landing in Kamino like... goddamn.

It's a moment where there's a room full of Widows (like a dozen) training gun stances and going through what's probably meant to be a gun kata? They move completely in sync through some fairly complicated moves, and it's eerie as fuck because they are almost entirely silent, the lighting is creepy, they have no emotions on their faces, etc. Nobody's got it up on YouTube yet but it fucking gripped me.

(I am, in fact, an entire lesbian who likes creepy shit, so I loved that scene, but that's because I thrive on the idea of dangerous women being spooky.)

I just can't stop comparing Red Room bullshit to Clones bullshit. They are VERY DIFFERENT bullshit and the sisters would have Many Opinions on things, both the training style and the decommissioning and also what family means because ahahahaha their family is. Uh.

[gestures at the entire movie about their sense of family being fucked up]

Natasha knows what's going on, Yelena never really got around to watching Star Wars (she saw the original trilogy during indoctrination so she could more easily pass as a local when undercover, but knows basically nothing about the prequels).

There is a language barrier, as is right and proper.

Natasha has just enough cards to tell Yelena to stand the fuck down because most of their training is useless here (anything involving hacking, impersonation, piloting, etc.) and what isn't useless is still going to be largely ineffective (two women versus Jango Fett, 75 Mandalorians, and however many clones are trained enough to put up a fight, not going to end well), so they need to play nice.

(Yelena doesn't recognize that they're in Star Wars, but Natasha puts together Jango's face with the Mando armor and familiar aliens and goes Ah Shit.)

So uh. They definitely end up in cells.

Like they're not putting up a fight and seem more confused and defensive than anything, which, okay, they showed up out of nowhere in a flash of light and landed in the middle of a bunch of Mandalorians, the easy interpretation there is "they don't know how they got here, AND they don't speak Basic, but they have a healthy and sensible fear of Mandalorians."

But they can't just. Get rid of these ladies. Not until they figure out where they came from/how they got here. If there's a leak or a new piece of tech that lets people just get into Kamino, and these two were a test run...

By the time they know enough Basic to actually discuss things, I feel like they're just kind of... there?

Like. "Oh yeah. Those two. We don't know what they're doing here, but tbh neither do they, and we don't really want to kill them at this point because one of them took Jango down in a spar last week--only once, don't get me wrong, Jango still won two out of three, but that's still better than most people--and now everyone's trying to get pointers on how the hell they fight because it's really different from most people here, y'know?"

They get folded in as trainers and then after like a year they go up to Jango like "Hey, we're going to tell you our shared Tragic Backstory, and also your future, and then we're going to bully you into Not Being The Worst"

I want to say that at some point Jango got like. Weirdly invested in Natasha and doesn't recognize that he has a crush.

ALSO Yelena low-key teaches the boys to do the Widow Pose to mock Natasha. She already makes fun of Natasha's tendency to pose in the movie, of course she's going to teach a bunch of clones how to do it purely to mess with her older sister.

This post has the scene with the mocking, and gifs from multiple movies that have Natasha doing The Pose.

This post has a more extended section of the mocking scene, and the later incident where Natasha does The Pose on a catwalk in the snow, and Yelena calls her a poser from the helicopter.

[Image desc: a gif of Black Widow as seen in Iron Man II, doing her classic 'about to fight' pose in a white hallway. End desc]

[Image desc: a gif of Black Widow, as seen in Black Widow (2021), in a white catsuit, coming down a rope from a helicopter and landing on a narrow grated walkway in a similar pose. There is visible snow and several individuals in black uniforms, carrying guns. End desc]

[Image desc: Immediately following the prior gif, Black Widow in the pose and dramatically lifting her head. End desc.] (above also by mcufam, same gifset, just not showing up in the gifsearch)

[Image desc: a gif from Black Widow (2021), where Natasha, casually dressed, turns to question someone off screen. The subtitles are as follows: Yelena (offscreen): Why do you always do that thing? Natasha: Do what? Yelena (offscreen): That thing you do when you're fighting. End desc]

[Image desc: a gif immediately following the last one, showing Yelena Belova, casually dressed and in a gas station store, dropping into a pose that mirrors Natasha's from Iron Man II. The subtitles have her saying "This thing that you do when you whip your hair..." End desc]

[Image desc: a gif from one of the final scenes of Black Widow (2021), where Natasha is performing a variant of the pose while sliding backwards on what appears to be a large solar panel. She (and the solar panel) are falling dramatically from a great height, and there are clouds and other debris in the background. She’s staring in determination at someone off-screen.]

[uwuwriting]

Denki, Dabi and Bakugou in a secret relationship

Request: hii!! i loved your post about the secret relationship being exposed and i was wondering if you could do the same for dabi bakugo and denki - anonymous

Um this was supposed to go up yesterday, I had queued it but tumblr decided to just deleted. Oh well. I hope you like it you guys even though its a day late. This was fun to write. Love ya. 💖💖💖

rules

warnings: some sexy times mentions, fluff

Kaminari Denki

-Kaminari is an idiot.

-I don’t even know who you’ve managed to keep your relationship a secret.

-90% sure the whole school knows and just pretends to be oblivious. 

-Anyways.

-It kinda bothers him that he has to keep it a secret. 

-He wants to scoop you up and spin you around in the hallways, hug you after a really rough training session with Bakubro, kiss you when you are being extra extra cute. 

-Plus he wants to brag to the other idiots for getting a girlfriend first. 

-But alas he respects your wishes and tries to keep it all under wraps. 

-Your parents are pro heroes and have warned you about the dangers of dating since you are their kid. 

-Villains wouldn’t hesitate to threaten you with your significant other if it means they’ll get to your parents. 

-So now Kaminari is stuck sneaking in your dorm late at night only to spend a few hours with you and give you as much kisses as he can fit in the little time you have. 

-Surprisingly he has kept it a secret for almost a year now. 

-No slip ups, no marks on his skin after a spice night, none of your clothes could be found in his room whatsoever.

-Apart from his usual flirty nature towards you, there was nothing that could indicate that you two were an item. 

-Now being in your third year, things had gotten rather serious with your hero works.

-Most of you if not all had been working along side a pro hero for the last year or two but that didn’t mean they would take you in after high school. 

-Every student had to wait for the acceptance letter from the agency or an agency in general and they would be set for their hero work after school. 

-You had been working with a hero agency since your first year and you were pretty happy. 

-But the pro hero you had been with decided that after you were done with your hero studies, he would retire leaving you with no agency to boost your career after school. 

-Kaminari was as devastated as you were.

-He tried comforting you as much as he could, extra hugs and kisses, more snacks and movie nights, anything to help you cope with the fact that you would be back to the starting line once school was over. 

-He hated seeing you cry. 

-Then the unthinkable happened. 

-Mt.Lady was a well known hero and one with a desired sidekick position that no one seemed to really fill. 

-You had just helped her stop a major villain attack tricking the villain and capturing him before he could do any real damage in the area. 

-To say that Mt.Lady was impressed was an understatement. 

-She contacted your hero agency and asked if you had already signed a deal with them.

-You can see where this is going.

-When you got the notice from Mt. Lady’s agency you were over the moon and so was Kaminari. 

-He was so happy that the person he loved the most was finally getting what she deserved. 

-He had dragged you to the janitor’s closet to give you his personal congratulations, catching the attention of a certain red head.

-He kissed you like there was no tomorrow, his arms keeping you as close as possible, flush to his chest as he peppered your face and neck with feather light kisses. 

- “I’m so proud of you babe!”

-You tried to keep your giggles on the down low to no avail since Kaminari’s goal was to make you laugh. 

-For a long moment you didn’t care if someone found you, you were so happy and so comfortable in Denki’s arms that you didn’t want to leave the closet and go back to your hidden lives. 

-Then you saw the light coming from the door, getting ready to lightly scold Kaminari for leaving the door open when you made eye contact with Kirishima......and Mina ..... and Sero..... and somewhere in the far back with a pair of ruby red eyes.

- “Babygirl is everything alright?”

-He hadn’t seen them yet, then he followed your line of vision and the man has never yeeted you out of his arms faster in his life.

-Your friends just stared at you in complete shock for a full minute before Bakugou broke the silence. 

- “Oi you own me ramen Kirishima.”

Dabi

-With this guy I’m not surprised that you managed to keep it a secret. 

-Oh no no no.

-I’m surprised you managed to get him into a relationship.

-It wasn’t easy though you would give him that. 

-You were part of the LoV of course and well you didn’t really take any of their shit. 

-The only person you respected was Kurogiri and that was borderline pity. 

-He had to babysit a 20 year old killing machine with issues, many issues, many many issues. 

-When Dabi approached you with his signature flirty and I-only-do-one-night-stands-babygirl attitude, you being the idiot that you are took the bait.

-The LoV knows of yalls nights together but they only thought that that was it.

-Dabi slept around and you were a really attractive person. 

-Plus they knew you both were bored so sex was, to their eyes, the only solution. 

-What they didn’t know though was that Dabi was starting to catch feelings and soon enough he hated seeing you remotely talking with another human being. 

-Then that fateful mission happened and the deal was sealed. 

-You were spying on Overhaul and his lackeys, hidden in his underground lab watching as they went around doing stuff.

-Then you heard a childish scream and it was the first time Dabi saw fear flash in your eyes. 

-You turned around following the source of the screams absolutely ignoring Dabi’s protests and threats. 

-It was like you were in a daze and Dabi felt the terror sink his claws in his throat as you passed by so many of Overhaul’s members nearly getting caught. 

-When you reached the glass door that led into Eri’s experiment lab, he saw the color drain from your face and your knees buckling. 

-He caught you before you hit the floor dragging you away from the lab door despite the fact that you clawed at his coat to put you down. 

-He felt his shoulder getting wet and that’s when he saw the tears that were falling freely down your cheeks. 

-He had managed to calm you down long enough to convince you to leave before you got caught but luck wasn’t on your side when one of the lackeys spotted you. 

-Dabi was a few feet away from the exit, becoming reckless at the sight of freedom not noticing the masked individual pointing his gun at him. 

-You noticed though. 

-And you got in the way, pushing Dabi to the ground as the quirk cancelling bullet pierced your side leaving you to fall to the floor with a grunt and a strangled pained moan.

-The next few minutes were a blur.

-Dabi didn’t remember how he got you out of there or how he was now on a rooftop with you pressed flush against his chest as the affects of the bullet made you tremble. 

- “Shh doll, shhh. I’m here I got you.”

-He knew your trembling was not entirely because of the bullet, he saw how your eyes glassed over at the sight of Eri back in the lab and he knew that this had something to do with your past. 

-He used to get the same glassy eyed look on his face when he would see Endeavour on the news shortly after his “death”.

-Things changed after that. 

-He didn’t take you to the hideout that night, he brought you to his apartment where he helped you clean up your wound and calm down. 

- “I know it’s not my place to ask but what the hell to you happened back there?”

-When you explained what you’ve been through and how those screams brought back things you thought you had long ago buried, he was left gawking at you. 

-For some weird reason he believed that you were just a brat who ran away from home on some rebellious whim. 

- “Ugh what am I saying? You don’t give a damn! Why did I even-”

- “Touya.”

- “What?”

- “My real name is Touya, I-I wanted you to know.”

-Sharing a heart felt night analyzing your past trauma with someone you sleep with is one way to get yourself into a relationship.

-You both agreed to keep it secret and you did keep it like that for a long time, a very long time. 

-The LoV never truly found out. 

-Some had their suspicions sure, Mister Compress had even made a bet with Toga but you two never gave them any further hints apart from the constant paired up missions you went on. 

-The only one who knew was Kurogiri. 

-He had caught you two spending the night together on a rooftop, all cuddled up together your hands intertwined as you looked up at the stars. 

-He was getting back from an emergency snack run when he saw the familiar glow of Dabi’s blue flames and your characteristic giggles. 

-He never said anything and when Dabi came to him to ask for some pregnancy facts, he knew that he truly loved you. 

-No one ever knew and no one will ever know. 

-Unless the run into you two in five years while you’re out for a walk with your son. 

Bakugou Katsuki

-Sparky sparky boom boom man is a lil bitch.

-Don’t try to argue you know that too. 

-You just need to accept it.

-His way to approach you was by insulting the living shit out of you before making you reach the tip of an anger fit. 

-He knew how to press your buttons and it made you fume. 

-You had to give it to him he was hella attractive and his true personality shined through his faced at times. 

-And so did his worry for you.

-You got together after his kidnapping. 

-He suffered from nightmares after the incident and one night he came to your dorm, trembling and cold sweat running down his spine. 

-He had no idea why his feet led him to your room, he just knew that you were now wrapping him in a fluffy blanket and putting on a Disney movie as you hugged him so so tightly. 

-He slept over and the next morning he confessed. 

-Actually you both confessed but those are useless details. 

-In reality it wasn’t even a confession with words. 

-You both woke up facing each other, your noses touching and I don’t know who leaned in first but next thing you knew you were kissing his hand cupping you cheek while the other intertwined with yours. 

-Keeping your relationship a secret with this one is easy. 

-He is still being a lil bitch to you and you are still sassing him back.

-Behind closed doors he is kinda sweet and caring not a lot though because even with you he has to uphold his reputation. 

-After some time though he calms down and is a cuddle bug. 

-Like he will tackle you on the bed the moment you close the door to his dorm, restricting any movement until he is satisfied with the cuddles. 

-Baby even said ‘I love you’ first awwww!!

-He was so shy about it. 

-Anyways.

-That’s a story for another time. 

-He doesn’t really care about keeping it a secret anymore. 

-He’s low key tired of hiding. 

-Much like Kaminari he wants to kiss you whenever he wants, hold you and hug you till you can’t breathe after he gets back to the dorms after a rough patrol with his hero study. 

-But oh well the cat isn’t out of the bag yet and you being third years now you couldn’t really do something about it. 

-You spend so much time with him that you would think that some of your classmates would like sniff you out. 

-But no.

-They all dumb af.

-You would spend a lot of time with him and the Bakusquad since your first year so they just think you’re really good friends. 

-Todoroki kinda knows but he doesn’t at the same time. 

-Some mannerisms remind him while he was in a secret relationship before Momo found out but then he sees how Bakugou treats you just like any other person so he is really confused. 

-More confused than usual. 

-Now you got outed by the man himself. 

-Bakugou is not good with jealousy. 

-Jealousy and Bakugou should never go hand in hand.

-You were talking to Mina in class, leaning on the desk behind you. 

-Your skirt had ridden up show casing your thighs making Bakugou think back to some noises you made a few nights ago. 

-If he got hard he would blame you and he would be extra pissy. 

-He was enjoying the show though. 

-He watched you like a hawk.

-The way your body leaned back making your legs straighten and flex slightly or how he could see the hickey he had left right at the base of your neck the other night that you’ve tried to cover with make up. 

-He could see it because he knew it was there, to an outsider everything was normal. 

-He was jolted out of his daze by Mineta’s voice. 

-And the sound of your name on his lips. 

- “Look at Y/N’s thighs! She could suffocate me with those legs and I would thank her!”

-Kirishima smacked him upside the head trying to shut him up. 

-Kaminari was slowly escaping the scene because he saw the small sparks in his friend’s hand at the comment. 

-He chose life. 

-Mineta though didn’t stop. 

- “I could lose myself between those legs. Oh the noises she must make.”

-Now what happened next is a huge question mark. 

-The end result however was Mineta almost being blasted out the window and into space and Bakugou almost popping the vein on his forehead. 

-You had to get in between them and try to calm down your boyfriend. 

-Most of your classmates had long forgotten Mineta and his whining and had zoned in on your hands on Bakugou’s chest or on his arm that had wrapped around your waist in an attempt to push you behind him. 

- “You ever dare speak my girlfriend’s name I’m blasting you to the next dimension.”

- “Katsuki please calm down it’s fine.”

-Legit you both forgot that your relationship had been a secret for the past three years. 

-You floated back into reality when Present Mic himself asked. 

- “YOu TWo aRe aN iTeM?????”

-Chaos ensued and a crap ton of explanations. 

TAG TEAM AY:

@iwaqchan​ @the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @reinyrei​

[jasontoddswhitestreak]

sleepovers with peter (and ned)

summary: in which you have a sleepover with your dork of a best friend and your boyfriend peter.

content warning: peter parker x fem!reader, fluff, set after spider-man homecoming (friends to lovers, mutual pining)

note: this is from my old tumblr account adoringparker i decided to post it again but change some things up :)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN! (let me know if you want to see more content like this <3)

masterlist

the entire thing being ned and yours idea because you've all been having so many exams recently and barely hung out after school due to revising and peter’s schedule.

peter being hesitant because he was worried that something bad could happen in new york and spider-man wouldn't be there to stop it

you reassuring him that the world can survive without spider-man for one day

oh man you were wrong

you three started the sleepover right after the school bells rang !!!

going to delmars to get sandwiches before you all went to peters place (forgetting the fact that there's only two beds in his room)

you and ned making fun of peter because has to state that the sandwich has to have pickles and be squashed real flat

“peter parker picked a pack of pickled peppers”

"why are you guys ATTACKING me.”

also getting slushies, peter trying to be creative and get red and blue to match the spider-man colours, ned getting red and you mixing cola and cherry to ‘make a cherry cola slushie’

“that is so disgusting y/n”

“shut up pickle breath”

going back to peters apartment and greeting may with a hug (she loves you <3)

“how's my favourite sweetheart doing?”

peter immediately cutting in like the dork he is

“i'm doing pretty good may!! how are you doing?”

teasing peter back

“she likes me more than you pete i’m her favourite”

eating ur sandwiches at the table while talking about what happened in school

“man today’s debate was so easy!”

you and ned throwing lettuce at peter in response “that’s because everything is easy for you smartass”

“did you hear that flash showed photoshopped pictures of him and spider-man during bio and said they went to a party together last night?” “that- i don’t even know how to respond to that..”

going back to peters room once ur done

ned wearing the spider-man top you jokingly bought for him to annoy peter for his pyjamas

“hey pete what'd you think abo-“ “WHY DO YOU OWN THAT”

peter walking in with his messy brown curls wearing his star wars shirt and grey pyjama bottoms but still being able to look fine as hell

peter forcing you to wear his sweater

“do you feel cold? you could wear my sweater- i mean if that’s what you want-”

you walking back into peters room after changing in the bathroom to be greeted with peters cutest smile ever

his eyes would be full of love he feels as though he fell in love all over again

he pulls you into him and hides his face in your neck while hugging you mumbling “you're so pretty in my sweater” ¥]!|¥\$]€{$]

having a star wars marathon and quoting the movies

“i have brought peace, freedom, justice and hot guys to my new empire-” “y/n that’s not the quote!!” “yeah but LOOK AT HIM?”

ned and peter reenacting the mustafar in front of you with rulers instead of light-sabers

“only a sith deals with absolutes, i will do what i must.” “you will try.”

ned winning the ‘light-saber’ duel

“god your such dorks” “and you love it”

ned falling asleep after the third movie bc it's already midnight

peter being antsy about not going on patrol tonight because he still feels like something wrong could be happening right this moment

you searching the latest news articles to see whether anything is happening to reassure him

“see everything is okay-” you get cut off by a bunch of sirens

worst. timing. ever.

him shooting out of his seat very quickly due to the spider reflexes, muttering a quick "i got to go" and kissing you on the forehead before putting on his suit and swinging out of the window

you worrying about peter bc he could be hurt

him coming back home at 4 am in the morning with cuts and bruises on his body

"so did spider-man stop the bad guys?" "he did"

tending to his wounds and scolding him for not being careful enough

him being so tired that he begins to say weird things as you continue to clean his cuts and bruises

"hey y/n, y/n y/n baby listen to me y/nnnn, angel, baby, pretty girl, you’re so pretty i love you”

him asking you to make him hot chocolate at 4am in the morning

resulting in the two of you sitting at the table drinking hot chocolate talking about life

"do you think we're going to stay friends after high school?" "of course we’ll stay friends!”

him talking about your future together not aware of the feelings it's giving you because although the smartest person ever, peter could be so clueless sometimes

"do you think we're going to have dogs or cats?" "w-what i-"

falling asleep on the living room couch with ur head on his chest and his arms around you tightly

waking up to the smell of May's choc-chip pancakes !!! (that ned mostly helped with)

wow i wished i had this

[wolf-and-bard]

The Geraskier divorce attorney AU of my dreams (hear me out):

-Geralt doesn't have regulars. Of course, he doesn't have regulars, he's a divorce attorney, a good one at that; sure sometimes there are clients that hire him twice because of mistakes or short-lived marriages, or he will have the odd person whose ex-partner he once helped, but in his ten-year-career, he's never once had a person come to him more than twice

-He has never married. The few long-term relationships he had didn't amount to anything in that regard and perhaps his job has spoiled the whole affair for him; there's never been a need either, he has his daughter Ciri, has his horse Roach which he rides on weekends, he couldn't be more content (or so he thinks)

(-Jaskier knows that many people would and do call him a whore, an adulterer, but he isn't. He is a romantic, a fall-in-lover, a dreamer, a free spirit. Which is why he gave himself the name 'Jaskier' (much more befitting of his character than Julian, what a common name) and why he tends to end up at the altar... more often than is strictly normative)

-The first time Jaskier enters Geralt's office, he acts as though it's the beginning of a Broadway show. He walks in, stands in the middle of the room and opens his arms wide. "Good day," he twitters and flashes Geralt the brightest grin. Geralt raises his eyebrows, but he isn't about to turn away a guy who looks affluent enough he can charge him a little extra. "Hello?" - "Julian Alfred Pankratz, call me Jaskier." Jaskier settles into the chair opposite Geralt's desk and puts his leather-clad feet up on them. Geralt pushes them off and asks: "Mr. Pankratz, what can I do for you?" - "Ah yes. My lover and muse, the Countess de Stael, has left me for another. The problem is that we got married just last month and I'm afraid she is going to bleed me dry if I don't have a proper attorney. You've been recommended to me by a friend. What do you say? Help out a fool?" What? Countess? Well. "Fine," Geralt says. "Let's talk fees."

-Jaskier is a lot and when the divorce is through and all aspects of their working relationship are settled, Geralt calls his babysitter - Yen's always happy to jump in on short notice - and invites his colleagues Lambert and Eskel to get drunk. Jaskier was annoying and exhausting, constantly babbling and flirting with Geralt and, god, he never wants to see him again.

-Of course, Geralt sees him again. By the time he does - half a year after the first time - Geralt has almost forgotten about Jaskier and his stupid Countess and how utterly drained that job left him. Jaskier sounds cheerful on the phone, not at all the common cadence for Geralt's clients, and comes into the office with two Macchiatos and a box of donuts; disgruntled, but unable to say no to sugar, Geralt allows for them to have the coffee over their conversation about Jaskier's upcoming divorce and it makes it more bearable. "So," Geralt says. "Give me a rough outline of the situation." Just to be prepared. Jaskier grins, wipes a sprinkle off his lips and takes a sip of coffee. "This is going to sound ridiculous, but hear me out. So about two months after you helped me last time, the Countess de Stael gave me a call..." Geralt wants to smack the man when he is done his well-embellished tale. Jaskier is obviously being used. But he's not here to judge, he's here to do his job and Jaskier pays well.

-The third is a woman called Molly. Geralt never gets to meet her, Jaskier never talks about her, it is as though she doesn't exist as more than a job to get done, a contract to fulfill. Aside from the topic of his soon to be ex-wife, Jaskier is more talkative than usual. He asks questions about Geralt's personal life, talks about his job - of course he's a broadway performer, 'star' doesn't quite apply - lingers. Geralt finds he... doesn't mind this time. It's nice to socialize for a bit, even if it is within the general bounds of his job. Jaskier makes him laugh somehow.

-"You should give me a discount," Jaskier jokes when he's there to leave a paycheck for Geralt for the fourth time (that Countess again, Geralt doesn't understand how they got married three times in a span of two years (in addition to that Molly woman)). "I don't give out discounts," Geralt replies. - "Why not? I'm a loyal customer, you should have a system for this." - "Mr. Pankratz, do you realize that you are the only person I know who goes through this many marriages in such a short amount of time?" - "Always knew I was special," Jaskier laughs and leaves with a small wave.

-"Okay, Geralt, what the hell?" Lambert asks, strutting in after Jaskier's gone with a bad temper written across his face. "Who is this man? And why does he keep coming back? You know I can hear his voice from my office. So if, like, you're having some sort of strange workplace affair, cut it the fuck out." -  "He's just an idiot who keeps getting married," Geralt says and waves Lambert away. He doesn't add that he kind of starts to miss the idiot.

-Priscilla is very nearly a different story, something Geralt only finds out after the fact. Jaskier breaks down before their court appointment, sobbing into Geralt's shoulder that he can't do it, he can't let her go, why doesn't she want him; by that point Geralt has known Jaskier for almost four years and the thought of him staying in a marriage for longer than half of one makes him queasy, gives him little bursts of pain against his breastbone; in truth, he's glad Priscilla's leaving Jaskier, antsy that it took almost a year for them to split up; she approaches him after the divorce is through, while Jaskier's in the courthouse bathroom crying his eyes out. "Tell him I'm sorry," Priscilla says and Geralt scowls at her. "Tell him I wouldn't have left him if I didn't have to. Tell him to wait for me." She leaves and Geralt doesn't even know why he should be the one to relay that message to Jaskier and so he doesn't. Jaskier never mentions her again.

-The sixth time is the Countess de Stael again and Geralt already prepared his case from the e-mail Jaskier sent ahead. The last three times all went in favour of the noblewoman who was able to protect her fortune, but Geralt thinks he can make a case for emotional manipulation and get Jaskier at least a sizable indemnity. "Mr. Pankratz," Geralt says when Jaskier comes for their appointment.  "Are you ever going to call me Jaskier?" Jaskier replies with a sigh and drops into the chair. His hair is tousled, there are deep half-moons under his eyes which look like he spent the whole night crying. Geralt's heart feels bruised, but he can't get involved dammit. "That would be inappropriate," he grunts. They get to work and Jaskier walks out with a broken-heart and a swollen bank account.

-"When will you give up on that woman?" Geralt asks when Jaskier saunters into his office one Friday, not three months after the last divorce. It's late afternoon and Geralt's ready for a weekend of watching Disney movies with Ciri, but Jaskier's always a sight for sore eyes these days. Not for the first time does Geralt consider asking him out for coffee, but the fact that he's only ever seeing Geralt because he's in need of a(nother) divorce somehow poses a barrier. "Now that is not very professional of you. To answer your question: right now. That's why I'm here." And for the first time with these two, it's Jaskier that wants the divorce, Jaskier that takes the initiative. He's only ever been the one to get dumped. Geralt's up all night thinking about that.

-For an entire year, Jaskier does not return and that annoys Geralt. He finds himself fretting, distracted, hoping Jaskier will turn up with another marriage to be dealt with, but he doesn't. The thought that Jaskier might have found someone he wants to stay with makes him physically ill. His code of conduct forbids him from using Jaskier's contact info though. Maybe this is for the best and anyway, Geralt is down to earth while Jaskier is... well, Jaskier. An emotional roller-coaster. He has his daughter and his horse and all is well. Only it isn't because Geralt managed to fall in love with Jaskier. (When Lambert and Eskel find out they laugh at him for two hours straight)

-Jaskier does turn up eventually, but not to get divorced again. He waits outside the building where Geralt works with two cups of coffee in hand and a tired smile. Geralt lets himself be led to a nearby bench, lets Jaskier speak. "I considered proposing to random strangers just to have another botched marriage for you to get me out of," Jaskier says. "But that would have been rather inconsiderate and there are easier ways to see you." - "I thought you might have found one that sticks," Geralt replies, tracing the rim of his coffee cup with a finger. "I might have."  Jaskier winks at Geralt and Geralt decides to throw caution to the wind. He leans over and kisses Jaskier's lips, then mutters, "I don't ever want to see you in my office again." - "And here I thought that your desk would make such a great hmph..." Geralt shuts him up with another kiss. It feels right.  

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Seventeen

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: 70% of this fic is written on my phone lying on my side in bed while using swipe typing bc im too lazy to type out words and it shows

TW: discussion of SA

***

Nesta has an easier time adjusting to a third person in the cabin than she thought she would. Maybe it’s because Azriel indeed minds his business, and half the time Nesta isn’t aware he’s there at all.

Cassian seems to be more irritated by it than anyone else—not his brother, of course, but the fact that he and Nesta no longer exist in their own little bubble. Which is how he ends up at Nesta’s apartment with an overnight bag, sprawled out stomach-down on her mattress while she gets ready for bed.

“TV show or movie?” he asks, clicking through her laptop. Shows are Nesta’s thing and movies are Cassian’s; she feels generous enough tonight to say, “Movie.”

“Thank god,” he mutters, typing something on the laptop. “There’s a Turkish horror flick that I was saving for you.”

“Where do you even find these films?” Grabbing her hairbrush, she flops onto the bed beside him and starts brushing out her brassy locks. Before he can answer, Nesta’s phone buzzes from the stool she uses as a bedside table. Feyre’s name flashes on the screen.

Nesta frowns, but picks up without a second thought. “What is it?”

“Nothing serious,” her sister replies. “Just checking in.”

Before Cassian, Nesta didn’t very much understand the purpose of “checking in” without reason. Now she empathizes with Feyre a little. “I’m fine,” she says.

Deciding she can do better than that, she adds, “Cassian and I are about to start a movie.”

“Is it his choice? I’m so sorry for you.”

Nesta peeks over to where Cassian is still intently searching for his obscure movie and smiles a little. “I like Turkish horror,” she replies.

Cassian overhears and grins approvingly.

“Well, I’m looking at wedding dresses with Rhys so he can prepare for when he inevitably proposes,” Feyre says. “In case you wanted to know.”

Nesta did not particularly want to know, but she doesn’t say this. “Sounds fun. Is that it?”

“For what?”

“This conversation.”

Feyre sighs over the line. “Yes, I’ll let you go now. Thanks for picking up.”

The bar is in hell, Nesta thinks. Mostly because she put it there, but she still feels embarrassed to be congratulated over such small things. “Thanks for keeping it short.”

She’s about to hang up when she hears a male voice speak up in the background, and Feyre interrupts, “Wait—before you go, can you tell Cassian to call Rhys back? He wants Cass’s help picking a new team leader for the Italy project.”

Nesta has no idea what that is, but she says, “Sure, fine.” They say their goodbyes and hang up.

“What’d she want?” Cassian says without looking over at her.

“She said Rhys wants you to call him about the Italy project.”

Cassian turns toward her, half sitting up. “Really? What for?”

“Something about picking a team leader.” She returns to brushing her hair. “Why? What’s the Italy project?”

“Something I thought we put aside for good,” he grumbles. “It’s a year-long overseas project in Milan. Rhys thinks it’s gonna bring in a shit ton of money.”

“Sounds big. What do you have to do with it, though?” She’s never heard of Cassian being involved in Night Court’s international operations, even though he takes on more work than the usual employee.

Cassian shrugs, going back to movie searching. “He wanted me to be the one leading the team, and I guess he still feels petty about me turning him down. Honestly, choosing team leaders outside of my department isn’t even part of my jurisdiction.”

Nesta hesitates. “He offered you the job? When?” She didn’t know this.

“On New Year’s.”

“And you turned it down?”

“Yeah.” Cassian clicks on a link that looks like it’ll plant fifteen different viruses in Nesta’s laptop. “Found the movie,” he says.

“Why would you do that?” Nesta demands.

“The movie?”

“The job offer! Why would you turn down such a big opportunity without even telling me?”

Cassian laughs in confusion. “Are you angry right now?”

She’s astonished at his nonchalance. “Cassian,” she says. “It’s Italy.”

Italy with the art and history and seaside beauty—it’s on their top five places to see before they die.

“It’s Milan,” he says like there’s a difference, “and it’s an entire year away from you.” He shakes his head, sitting up to face her. “Are you out of your mind?”

She goes still. “Don’t tell me you said no because of me.”

“Of course I said no because of you.”

“It’s your dream job!” she bursts. “Traveling, exploring, being on your own—”

“Those are our dreams. I made those plans with you. The hell am I supposed to do all the way in Italy without you?”

“You sound codependent,” she retorts.

He narrows his brows. “Like you wouldn’t do the same thing in my position?”

He’s right, of course. Nesta would do the exact same thing for him. But Nesta and Cassian are not the same, and they both know it. “You can’t make that comparison,” she sighs.

“Why not?” he demands.

“Because—” She struggles to put it into words. “I would give up a long distance job for you because it would be worth it. You’re worth it. It doesn’t work the other way around.”

“Again: why the fuck not?”

So he’s really going to make her spell it out. “Because you’re a good boyfriend. You’re affectionate and caring, you always go the extra mile for those you love, and you come with all these free perks. It’s a great deal. And I’m not anything terrible, but I’m the bare minimum compared to you. Why would you give up Italy for the bare minimum?”

Cassian looks at her in disbelief. “I don’t even know how you can say so many wrong things in a row.”

“He’s blinded by love,” Nesta mutters to herself.

“First of all,” he holds up a finger, “I don’t know where you learned to compare yourself to me, but I don’t like it. You make it sound like I need to be paid back for every half-decent thing I do, and that is not the case at all.”

“Of course you think that,” she says. “You wouldn’t be a good person if you didn’t.”

“Then let me be a blunt person.” He puts a hand on her knee and looks her in the eye. “You will never be like me. Very few people are; you can’t take it personally.”

“Oh my god.” Her eyes might roll out of her head.

“But you’re not the bare minimum. Not even close.” He states it like an undeniable fact.

“How so?” she challenges.

“Like how Elain told me about this boy who broke her heart in her high school, and how the next day he walked into class in a leg cast. And how she just knew you had something to do with it, and you two had a huge fight about it that lasted a week.”

Nesta does not enjoy that memory being brought up. Elain called her a psychopath for the incident, and to save her feelings, Nesta (rather unconvincingly) said it had been an accident.

“I didn’t push anybody into a creek,” she maintains the lie. “Sometimes people just fall down there.”

“To be fair, you’re a lot more stable now than you were then. Now when people hurt those you care about, you find sneakier ways to hurt them back. Don’t you?”

“I do not,” Nesta defends.

“Really? Because Eris texted me earlier saying you’ve been ignoring him since New Year’s, and he’s starting to get worried that you have something heinous planned for him. I asked him why he would ever think such a thing of you.” Cassian leans forward and rests his chin on her shoulder. “Why would he think such a thing of you, Nesta?”

Cassian looks pretty well off from here, doesn’t he? She remembers Eris’s smug face. Did you know Rhysand’s parents found him sleeping in the streets?

“Because he said a bad thing,” Nesta says, looking down at her fingernails. “And I have an unfortunate reputation at school for getting back at people who say bad things.” Like the time Brian O’Connell made jokes about a rape trial the class was studying, and then couldn’t find an internship at a single firm the following summer.

“And what did he say? Because I can’t imagine he would directly insult you. He actually likes you, ass that he is.” His face is warm so close to her neck.

She looks away. “I won’t repeat it.”

That seems to be all Cassian needs to get an idea of what Eris said. “And how long are you planning on holding it against him?”

“Forever.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Nesta meets the eyes that haven’t left her face this entire time and snorts. “What’s your point?” Seriously, she’s starting to redden at how close he is.

He buries his face in her neck, his stubble rasping against the sensitive skin there. “The point is that you also do a lot for the people you love. Just in a different way.” He pulls away to look her in the eye. “Don’t do anything to Eris, though,” he says. “Not that I care for him or his shit opinions, but whatever you have planned isn’t worth it.”

Nesta wants to scoff in disbelief at the sincerity on Cassian’s face. He’s always choosing kindness, even at the worst moments. “So that’s your argument?” she says. “You won’t go to Italy because your girlfriend has a bad temper and a taste for revenge?”

“That’s my final argument, Your Honor.” He takes her hand. “Forget Milan, will you? One day I’ll take you to Portofino.”

The longer Nesta knows Cassian, the more she finds it useless to hide from him. Which is why she lets him watch the thoughts flit across her face as she considers his words, deciding whether she believes him. Deciding whether he’s right to give her so much devotion.

“Fine,” she finally says. “You’re right.”

A slow smile spreads across his face as he realizes he won. Wrapping his arms around Nesta’s waist and legs, he hauls her into his lap and shifts around until they’re both comfortable. The movie is forgotten for now.

“Out of curiosity…” He noses at the nape of her neck. “What did Eris say about me to make you so angry?”

When Nesta doesn’t answer, he says, “I’ve already heard everything that could possibly be said. The shit that used to get me when I was eighteen doesn’t have the same hold on me a decade later.”

She lets herself relax into his hold. “It was about the time you spent as an orphan.” Technically, he’s still an orphan, but it was different back then. “I didn’t like the tone of his voice.”

Cassian’s answering hum is a low rumble against her shirt. “Did you know my biological father was from Italy?”

Nesta perks up at that. “No.” She assumed he was entirely Algerian, even though he and Azriel probably look ethnically ambiguous to most. “Isn’t that all the more reason to see Italy someday?”

“Not at all,” he says. “If I could pretend that half of me didn’t exist, I would.”

She can’t think of a response that doesn’t involve a question, so she doesn’t reply. She waits for Cassian to speak on his own terms.

“I went to Italy once,” he admits. “For less than a day while my brothers were partying in Monte Carlo. I was young and stupid, and thought I would never be complete if I didn’t know who my father was.”

“Who was he?” She doesn’t know why she’s whispering.

“No one worth remembering,” Cassian says, his arms unconsciously tightening around her. “I put some dots together and realized how he and my mother must have met, how he must’ve—forced himself on her, and I decided that I didn’t care about bloodlines at all. I never returned to Italy after that.”

Nesta’s hands want to reach out and touch him, soothe him. But her muscles are suddenly very cold, and she can only stiffen. “And what about now? Do you… not want to go back?”

“It’s just a place to me,” he says. “Nothing special, nothing terrible. But I like the way it sounds when you talk about it.” His eyes sparkle. “I’d like to pretend it’s my first time going with you.”

“Alright, then.” She nods. “One day, we’ll go together. It’ll be our first time.”

***

Cassian refuses to let Nesta leave bed the next morning, dragging his heavy mouth across her body whenever she tries to get up. She’s about to surrender to him altogether when her phone starts vibrating loudly, insistently.

Breaking away from Cassian’s attempt at cuddling, she answers without checking the caller ID. “Yes?” she croaks sleepily.

“Where the hell have you been?” Emerie demands.

Nesta shoves Cassian away despite his protests, untangling her legs from the sheets. “At home,” she says, getting out of bed and heading for the bathroom. “Am I supposed to be somewhere else?”

“We haven’t seen you in two weeks,” Emerie says. “Gwyn thought your boyfriend’s weird family killed you.”

“That’s not what happened,” Nesta assures, pulling her shorts down and sitting on the toilet. “I just needed some alone time.” People are all around her these days, it seems. Her body still can’t quite adjust to it.

“Well, have you had enough—are you peeing?”

“Yeah.” She wipes and flushes the toilet.

“Well, clear your day and kick your sorry boyfriend out of your place. I can’t remember the last time I went out.”

“Why does everybody always want to go out?” Nesta says as she washes her hands. “What’s wrong with staying in, being safe, never leaving the house?” She dries her hands on a towel and returns to the bedroom, where Cassian is now sitting up and checking his emails.

“You’re preaching to the choir, but this actually wasn’t my idea,” Emerie says.

Nesta and Cassian alert at the sound of a knock from the front door. Nesta never has uninvited guests.

“Hold on a second, Em,” she says, jogging up the short set of steps to the door. She opens it to the sight of an exasperated-looking Gwyn.

“Jeez, next time send a text that you’re alive, will you?” Gwyn says, shoving past Nesta to enter the apartment. “Do you know how worried I’ve been—” She halts midsentence, one foot hovering above a step as she realizes that Nesta isn’t alone. As she sees Cassian in her bed, bare-chested and highly amused.

“Hey.” He raises a hand in greeting.

Gwyn pales.

“Hello?” Emerie calls over the line.

“You girls both share the same brain,” Nesta sighs. “Let me call you back, Emerie.”

Gwyn whirls around just as Nesta hangs up. “That won’t be necessary,” she says quickly, looking embarrassed. “I’ll be outside. I’m sorry.”

She hurries out of the apartment even faster than she came in, ducking her head to hide her face.

Nesta tosses her arms up in the air. “Great,” she says to Cassian. “Your abs scared her away.”

“But I didn’t do anything—”

She shuts the door behind her as she follows Gwyn outside, barefoot and all. She barely notices the freezing cold air or the awful press of damp grass beneath her feet as she catches up to Gwyn and grabs her elbow. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Gwyn jerks suddenly, yanking out of Nesta’s hold. Her breathing seems a little shallow, and she looks even more embarrassed for it. “It’s nothing. I just didn’t know you had someone over.”

“Cassian? He’s cool, you don’t need to be weird about him,” she tries to reassure Gwyn. “Though I did use to tell him that not everybody wants to see him shirtless all the time.”

“It’s not that,” Gwyn says, waving her off.

Nesta gestures to the apartment. “Do you want to come back inside, then? I’m sure he has clothes on by now.”

Gwyn clears her throat uncomfortably and looks down. “I’d rather not. I’m—I don’t like being around men.”

Nesta pauses, not sure if she heard right. “Like, in a ‘check the backseat of your car before getting in’ way, or…?”

“No, like I can’t be alone in a room with a man without feeling sick. It activates my fight or flight, it’s weird.” She’s carefully stiff, like she’s ready to be met with humiliation.

Nesta remembers that Gwyn has never told her about her therapy sessions before, but she knows they’re more intensive than her own weekly conversations with Lana.

“Not that I think your boyfriend is a bad person,” Gwyn adds when Nesta doesn’t respond. “He looks really nice. He sounds nice, too.”

But Nesta doesn’t care about any of that. Unsure of what to do next, she reaches out and awkwardly pats Gwyn on the arm. “Good thing you’ve never been to the cabin, then. Cassian’s brother is staying…” She trails off when she realizes none of this is relevant. “Why are you here so early?” she asks instead.

Gwyn eases up a little at the change in subject. “I missed you. We’ve barely talked since Christmas.”

Nesta didn’t realize people would take such notice to her absence. “Yeah.” She flushes. “I do that sometimes. I’ll send a message next time I go into hibernation, though.”

“You’re freezing,” Gwyn suddenly scolds, noticing how Nesta’s goosebumped arms are wrapped tightly around herself. She unzips her red hoodie and shrugs it off. “Go back inside and get dressed.” She flings the hoodie around Nesta’s shoulders before Nesta can protest. “Meet me at my car. We’re hanging out.”

Nesta knows that a last minute change of events is not the end of the world, even if it sometimes feels like it. For Gwyn and Emerie, she can bear the discomfort of unexpected plans, same as she does for Cassian. But she at least has to know: “How long will we be out?”

“You can come home after lunch.” At Nesta’s face, Gwyn adds, “Lunch will be at two and shouldn’t take more than an hour.”

Looking her friend up and down, someone who has such an easy time understanding her, Nesta nods in satisfaction. She turns around to go back inside.

***

They end up at the library where Gwyn works, in the stacks of the long-abandoned encyclopedia section.

Emerie takes a loud sip from the huge McDonald’s soda she snuck in. “So all this show was because Gwyn didn’t want to work her shift alone?”

“I just have some last minute cleanup to do,” she hisses for the third time, shoving an old book back where it belongs. “Go to the porn section if you’re so bored here.”

“Oh, I definitely will,” Emerie says. “But I’m glad that we’re congregating now, even if it’s in the most depressing part of the library. I have a present for you girls.” She hands Nesta her drink so she can dig around in her purse.

Nesta personally has no complaints. The library is quiet, it smells of paper and old ink, and it holds all her favorite books. It’s almost better than staying in.

Emerie successfully pulls out a handful of folded and wrinkled papers from her bag, smoothing them out as best she can. “One for each of us,” she says, passing the papers around.

Nesta takes her paper and stares at the header. Gwyn is the first to speak. “Pole dancing classes?”

“Why?” Nesta says.

“Well, I originally offered them to Justinian and Isaac but they said no—”

“It’s really not for me,” Gwyn interrupts, trying to pass the registration form back to Emerie. “Sorry.”

Nesta doesn’t give her form back.

“Look,” Emerie says. “I get the hesitation. We’re a handful of boring bitches who hate having fun. But don’t you think that has to change at some point?”

“I’ve known you guys a month,” Gwyn retorts. “We’ve only been boring bitches for a month. This is too much.” She turns to Nesta for help.

Nesta is still staring at the paper. Dancing—on a pole, yes, but it’s still dancing. “I’ll do it,” she says.

Gwyn looks betrayed and Emerie looks elated. “Really?” She hops up and down. “That’s two against one, Gwyn. You have to do it, too.”

Gwyn’s cheeks are turning red in frustration. “You can’t just force this on me—”

“Gwyneth,” a sharp voice interrupts their conversation. Nesta spins around to find a young woman with dark skin and bleached white curls heading in their direction, a stack of books in her arms.

She halts before Nesta and glares. “No food or drink in the library.” She looks pointedly at the 32-ounce in her hand.

“It’s not mine.” Nesta shoves the drink back to Emerie.

But the librarian has turned to Gwyn, who hides the dance class form behind her back. “And what are you doing here?” she demands.

“Just putting up a few books, Merrill,” Gwyn answers quickly.

“While socializing?” the woman named Merrill sneers.

“We were just asking for help finding the romance section. Is that a problem?” Emerie crosses her arms and steps forward, letting a little of her beautiful deadliness slip into her stance. It’s the deadliness of someone at the top of her law class, someone who will graduate in a few months with all the power she could want in the palm of her hand. Nesta gets a rush from playing the lawyer game, too, but she’s never had the kind of ambition that Emerie has. Emerie is a shark sitting around in a small pond.

Merrill is not impressed. She snatches the styrofoam cup dangling from Emerie’s hand and tosses it in the nearby trash can. She turns back to Gwyn. “Hand your badge over and clock out.”

“But I’m not done yet—”

“Now.”

“Okay,” she squeaks. She pulls her ID badge off her neck and hands it to Merrill.

Nesta gapes in disbelief. Before she can speak up, Merrill says, “No loitering in the library. If you don’t have anything you need to check out, leave.” With one final judgmental look, she turns down an aisle of dusty books and disappears.

Gwyn makes a face at her back.

“That woman is not old enough to be acting that misanthropic,” Emerie says after Merrill is gone.

“Whatever,” Gwyn mutters. The registration form is still in her hand. She crumples it into a ball and throws it into the trash. “Let’s get out of here.”

Nesta stares at the trash as Gwyn turns to leave. “Coward,” she says.

Gwyn’s head snaps toward Nesta, her auburn hair swinging. “Excuse me?”

She shrugs. “You heard me.” Emerie’s eyes bounce back and forth between the girls.

“I did,” Gwyn says. “I was just making sure this wasn’t coming from the woman who would sooner bite someone’s head off than do something she doesn’t want to.”

“Girls,” Emerie snaps before Nesta can bite back. “It’s just a stupid dance class. I thought it would be fun to do together, but it doesn’t matter anymore.” Taking Gwyn by one arm and Nesta by the other, she starts steering them out of the stacks like a stern mother. “Now let’s go eat. I’m fucking hungry.”

Gwyn’s mood from the library doesn’t recover, even as they sit down for lunch at the local diner. Nesta thinks Gwyn might actually be sick when the male waiter winks at her while taking her order, and it’s not until long after he’s gone that color returns to her face. When their food arrives, Gwyn only picks at her plate.

“What’s wrong?” Nesta finally has to ask bluntly. “You look pukey.” Did the coward comment affect Gwyn more than she let on, or was it Merrill’s attitude that threw her off?

At Nesta’s words, Gwyn becomes even more pallid. “I just don’t feel great today,” she murmurs, looking around like she’s seeking a way out of the diner. “Sorry guys, I didn’t mean to be such a buzzkill. Maybe I should go home early.”

“Absolutely not,” Emerie says. “If you’re going home, we’re going home with you.”

Gwyn bites her lip, trying to decide if she wants that or not. But something about her antsy demeanor is too familiar to Nesta, because she says, “If you really want to be alone, do you mind driving me home first? Emerie’s car is a mess.”

“You just need to move around a few papers,” Emerie protests.

But Gwyn nods distractedly, already gathering her things. “Sure, no problem.” They pay the bill and go their separate ways.

During the ride home, the sky that’s been gray all day finally breaks open, unleashing a spattering of rain over the town. Nesta watches it sprinkle while Gwyn drives in silence.

“Why are you scared of Merrill?” she eventually asks. “She doesn’t look much older than you.”

Gwyn snorts, but there isn’t much heart to it. “Merrill is my superior, but I can handle her on most days.”

“Just not today?”

Gwyn eyes Nesta warily from the corner of her eye. “No, not today. Or this week.”

Nesta chooses not to push. The dull metal of the cars surrounding them glints under the rain, and they arrive at a red light.

After a minute, she takes a breath and blurts, “I’m not always like that around guys, you know.”

Nesta watches her closely, remembering how ghostly she seemed around Cassian, then the waiter. “Keep going.”

Gwyn stares straight at the traffic ahead, her fingers turning bone white on the steering wheel. “I’m just going through a hard period. Everything upsets me and I don’t know how to think straight. It’s like my brain accidentally traveled to the past and now it’s stuck there.” She sounds shaky, breathless, and it makes Nesta wonder what exactly her mind is experiencing.

Nesta knows what it’s like to be unable to move on. Her own brain has only recently started looking toward the future. “Where are you stuck, specifically?” she asks hesitantly. Maybe she can help Gwyn navigate her way out.

Gwyn’s chin quivers. “In a dark room.” Her lips form a tight line. “Being held down. I’m outnumbered.”

Nesta’s stomach turns. “How far back is it?”

“Two years,” Gwyn whispers. “Lately I can’t even look at anything without—remembering it. Thinking about it. Every time I feel like I’m moving past it, I end up being wrong.”

The light turns green, and Nesta puts a hand on Gwyn’s knee in an attempt to ground her. “Drive,” she commands softly.

Gwyn presses down on the accelerator, but Nesta can feel her leg trembling beneath her hand. She squeezes her knee hard. Even with the dark parts of her own past, Nesta has never felt what Gwyn is feeling right now. So she tries to stick to what she knows.

“It’s like you said,” she says carefully. “You’re going through a period where your brain isn’t being friendly to you. It’s horrible, but you can live with the knowledge that it’ll be over eventually.”

Gwyn shakes her head, holding back tears. “It doesn’t work like that. Once it goes away, it’ll just come back again. And it’ll be like that for the rest of my life.”

“You’re right.” Nesta doesn’t have a solution for that, and she hates it. “You’ll never forget. You can be at the peak of your life and still remember all of it. But,” she says slowly, “whether you reach a point where it barely fazes you, or if you keep crippling under the weight of it decades later, you’ll still be normal. You’ll be a perfectly normal human.”

Gwyn lets out a tearful laugh at that. “What does that even mean?”

Shit. “It means…” Nesta tries to explain herself better. “In case you’re worried that there’s something very wrong with you, I’m here telling you that there’s not. There will never be anything wrong with you.”

Gwyn eyes her skeptically as they turn onto a residential road. “Even if I never get past one nightmare I lived years ago? Even if that nightmare defines me until the day I die?”

“That won’t happen.” Nesta’s tone is simple, factual. “But yes, even then.”

“Really? You’re not gonna tell me to live for the better days or whatever?”

“Does that sound like something that would help you? Because I can say it if it does.”

Gwyn snorts. “No.” But her limbs are steady and her eyes are clear on the road. She clears her throat. “Thank you for listening. I think I might feel a little better now.”

“Was it because of what I said?” Nesta tries not to be too hopeful.

“I wouldn’t give you that much credit,” Gwyn says, crushing her hope. “But I’m glad I told you. It makes things…a lot easier for me.” She exhales deeply.

“You know my plate is mostly empty these days.” Nesta pats her knee. “That means I’ll always have room to help carry your shit.”

They pull up to Nesta’s apartment, and Gwyn parks at the curb. “Give me your dance class thing,” she says suddenly.

Frowning, Nesta pulls the wrinkled paper out of her purse and hands it to Gwyn.

Gwyn smooths it out on the steering wheel and grabs a pen from a cupholder, clicking it. “If you’re going to help carry my shit, I guess I have time for pole dancing now.”

“But that’s mine,” Nesta protests as Gwyn starts filling out the form.

“It can be both of ours,” she says, writing Nesta’s name under hers.

“Really?” Nesta grins with an excitement that she doesn’t easily feel. “You’re going to do it with us?”

“Why would I let you do it without me? So I can become the third wheel in our girl group?” She gives Nesta a look that says No way in hell.

Nesta rolls her eyes. “That would never happen to you.”

“Sure,” Gwyn drawls. She finishes the form and folds it in half before pocketing it. “I’ll give this to Emerie as a gift.” She leans over to peck Nesta on the cheek. “Now get home. Love you.”

Nesta turns red at the words and coughs. “Thanks for the ride,” she responds, getting out of the car.

“Say it back!” Gwyn calls after her. But Nesta shuts the door in her face and waves, pretending she can’t hear her. Gwyn mock-scowls at her through the window, but lets her off easy and drives away.

That’s enough feelings for today, Nesta decides. Even if her chest is swelling with emotion for her friend. It’s a sweet hurt that lingers long after she returns to her empty apartment.

***

a/n: i’m back in my no plot, just vibes era

taglist: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes

[eliemo]

Permafrost: Chapter 1

Summary: After Virgil agrees to follow Roman into the Imagination, a shift in the weather and an unfortunate misstep sends Virgil plummeting into uncharted waters. If only it didn't take a matter of life or death and a race against time to realize the Prince might not hate him after all.

TW: Drowning, progressing hypothermia, effects of severe cold

Notes: Romantic Prinxiety (pre relationship, they’re pining idiots) Right now I think this will only be a couple chapters, but let me know if I should make a taglist for this story!

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

“This is stupid,” Virgil said for the third time in the last ten minutes. “We’re gonna freeze to death.”

It was very clearly pissing Roman off, and if he wasn’t so miserable he’d be grinning like an idiot at the Prince’s clear exasperation. “We’re not going to freeze. Don’t be dramatic, Negative Nancy, that’s my thing.”

Virgil scoffed, glancing up at the expanse of snow covered trees towering overhead, branches bare and twisted, coated in sparkling white. It felt endless, everything around them perfectly identical and a little overwhelming.

He shuddered as the wind picked up again, drowning out anything he might have been about to say, and he absently shook off snow sticking to his shoes, really wishing he’d decided to wear his combat boots today.

Then again, he hadn’t expected to be trapped in the Imagination in below freezing weather.

“Let me complain, Princey,” he said, hoping that their familiar banter could make this whole thing suck a little bit less. “You’re the one that trapped me in here.”

“You’re the one that agreed to follow me,” Roman shot back, a little more sharp than Virgil had been hoping for. “You didn’t have to.”

“You invited me. And someone has to make sure you don’t get killed in here.”

“I’m perfectly capable,” Roman said. “The cold is no match for a dashing Prince! Besides, the beast is dead, my realm is perfectly safe when I need it to be- if it weren’t for someone refusing to enjoy the scenery, this might actually be a nice walk.”

“It’s freezing and we have to walk for another hour,” Virgil argued. “How the hell am I supposed to enjoy this?”

It hadn’t been snowing when they’d first stepped into the Imagination, some two hours ago now. It had been warm and sunny, the world around them lush and green, bright and inviting as Virgil followed Roman on his apparently routine adventure.

He hoped it hadn’t been obvious how excited he’d been when Roman had asked him to come along. He and the Prince had never been close, (that was putting it lightly, Virgil was all too aware of how much Roman hated Anxiety) but ever since Virgil had revealed his name things had been...better.

Not great, nowhere near perfect, but better. Their fights had started to devolve into banter, and Virgil found he actually enjoyed talking to Roman now. He wasn’t reduced to a villain anymore, and he’d never actually realized just how much he hated the tight feeling in his chest when Thomas had always dismissed him as the bad guy. He’d been pushing the hurt down for so long and now…

Now wasn’t the time to think about it. Now was the time to focus on moving forward, as shaky as the progress was sometimes. It was still progress.

Virgil knew Roman didn’t like him, and he probably had no intention of even being real friends, any effort to be polite for Patton and Logan’s sake only.

Which Virgil might have been able to live with, if he hadn’t recently figured out that he really, really liked Roman.

He’d sort of...not actually hated the Prince for a while now, just another hopeless, gnawing feeling that drove him to consider ducking out in the first place.

The feelings had come out of nowhere, slowly sneaking up on him and only growing now that they were closer, and he still wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about it.

The things Roman did that Virgil had once thought were annoying became...begrudgingly endearing. His rants, his dramatic gestures, the constant singing and humming under his breath...it was all so stupidly charming. Roman was funny and kind and passionate and brave and...and Virgil might have developed a little bit of a crush.

Dammit.

He knew nothing would come from it. He could be pretty stupid, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think otherwise. Roman had declared him an enemy since day one, and Virgil was just beginning to hope the Prince might actually tolerate him enough to call him a friend. Just a friend.  

But Roman had invited him into the Imagination today, to be an extra set of eyes while he slayed the monster patrolling the realm, and Virgil had agreed without a second thought. If he and Roman could just learn to coexist...Virgil didn’t need anything else. Anything was better than being hated.

And having Roman as a friend was far from the worst thing in the world. It still gave him the Prince’s smiles, his laughs, and his company.

That being said, trudging through the snow and freezing his ass off for the next hour was not how he’d like to be spending the day. Why couldn’t Princey invite him to do something normal like watching a movie?

“Aren’t you supposed to be Creativity?” Virgil called over the wind picking up. God, it was cold. “Why can’t you just change the weather back?”

Roman had his back to him, keeping a few paces ahead, but Virgil could practically feel his eye roll. “I don’t control the weather here. Thomas does.”

“Thomas?”

“Not intentionally,” Roman said. “When it’s snowing like this, it probably means he’s worried or…or stressed about something.”

Virgil didn’t miss the slight hesitation, the way Roman glanced back at him, and he instinctively hunched his shoulders and pulled his hood tighter around himself.

It wasn’t his fault. He knew everyone liked to point fingers and place the blame on Anxiety whenever Thomas wasn’t feeling his best, but Virgil wasn’t here to hurt him. He just wanted to help, and he’d been trying so hard to be better lately, but he still managed to be the bad guy.

He opened his mouth to mutter an apology the Prince would probably only scoff at, but Roman beat him to it.

“Ignore that,” he said quickly, tone suddenly nowhere near his usual bravado. “I didn’t mean to imply...nevermind. Sorry.”

It was clearly forced and a little desperate, just like it had been in front of the others whenever Roman would catch himself on an insult or a nickname, but Virgil found he appreciated the effort all the same. As awkward as it was.

“It’s fine,” Virgil said. “Seriously, it’s whatever. I’ll...I can check on Thomas when we get back.”

Roman didn’t respond, but he did look over once again to flash Virgil a genuine smile, and he forcibly pushed down the butterflies rising up in his chest. It was just Roman. He was not about to get flustered because Roman had smiled at him.

But maybe it was a sign that they were getting somewhere. Maybe-

“Shit!”

Virgil froze, Roman’s curse almost drowned out by the sudden CRACK that echoed through the snowy forest. A chunk of ice broke under Roman’s boot, just big enough for him to stumble, his leg disappearing up to his knee.

“God dammit that’s freezing!”

“I thought the cold didn’t bother you,” Virgil teased before he could stop himself. He moved to help, only for Roman to hold out a warning hand. “You ok?”

“I’m fine.” The Prince wobbled a bit before he managed to pull his leg up and out of the ice, the soaked and dripping cloth clinging to his skin. “Except that my leg is going to fall off!”

Virgil couldn’t imagine how cold that must be, to feel icy cold wind against soaked clothes, but he could recognize that Roman wasn’t actually hurt or scared, despite the way he’d started shivering a bit. Thank god the water was only up to his knee.

“Stop panicking,” Virgil said, and smirked despite his own rising worry. “That’s my thing, Princey.”

Roman scoffed and shook out his leg, drops of water seeping into the plush white snow. The ice they hadn’t even realized they’d been walking on creaked under the movement and Virgil paled, eyes flying to Roman who quickly noticed the anxious side’s distress.

“Relax,” the Prince said. “It was just a weak spot, and it’s only a couple inches deep. I could reach the bottom.”

“We should still be worried about getting our clothes wet in this weather.” It seemed to have gotten colder, even as Virgil remained perfectly dry. “Didn’t Logan do a whole lecture about hypothermia a few years ago?”

“We’re not getting hypothermia, Panic at the Everywhere. Logan gives a lecture on everything. Worst case scenario is I come down with a little cold, and our dear Patton feels guilty and smothers me for a few days.”

Virgil laughed, carefully stepping around the hole Roman had created. “I’m pretty sure it’s not Patton’s fault you’re so clumsy.”

“No, but he practically forced me to bring you out here.” And just like that Virgil’s good mood was gone, stomach twisting uncomfortably as the words set in.

It shouldn’t be a surprise- of course Roman wouldn’t voluntarily spend the day with him. Patton wanted everyone to get along for Thomas’s sake, and he’d made Roman drag Virgil along like an unwanted nuisance.

“Oh.”

“So if we look miserable enough when we get back, we can coax Pat into making us cookies and hot chocolate,” Roman said, and he didn’t seem to notice Virgil’s shift in mood. “Just try to watch your step, ok?”

Roman clearly didn’t think he had said anything wrong, only scowling at his now soaking wet pant leg before turning to continue forward. He obviously thought Virgil knew this, that he wasn’t stupid enough to think he was actually wanted.

Well, at least Roman was giving him the benefit of the doubt. Even if Virgil apparently was that stupid.

They kept walking, Virgil ending up trailing a bit behind with slightly numb hands stuffed deep into his hoodie pockets. Roman managed to make it even farther ahead, humming some vaguely familiar tune as he watched the snowfall, and Virgil wondered if he should just let the Prince make the rest of the walk by himself, kind of wanting to just lay down and let the snow bury him.

The wind was picking up, and Virgil was clearly finding it more difficult to trek through the snow than Roman was. The Prince didn’t seem inclined to leave him behind though, slowing down and smiling patiently at the anxious side every few moments, letting him catch up on his own time.

He wondered why Roman didn’t just quicken his pace and leave him. It wasn’t like Virgil would go tell Patton just to get him in trouble. As much as it hurt knowing Roman wanted nothing to do with him, that someone had to make Roman spend time with him, it hurt worse to think that the Prince had just been faking it.

He’d thought...God, he’d actually thought they might be getting somewhere. That maybe, maybe Virgil’s feelings for the Prince weren’t as pointless as they’d once been.

The soft little smiles sent his way, the light touches on Virgil’s back or shoulder, the quiet jokes meant just for him, the way Roman’s eyes would linger for just a second…

He noticed it a second too late, caught up in his own head instead of paying careful attention to where he was stepping like he usually would, only pulled from his thoughts by another ear splitting crack as a piece of ice gave way right where he’d stepped down.

It was sudden and loud, and Virgil yelped when he stumbled and fell to the ground, hands losing feeling completely as they grabbed at the snow and his foot disappeared under the ice.

“Fuck- Roman!”

He heard Roman laugh, but it was almost impossible to make out over the howling of the wind and the pounding of his own heart. The water was so cold, (thank god he’d managed to stop himself before it went past his shin) like a million little knives dancing along his skin, paying no mind to what little protection his clothes offered.

“You’re fine,” Roman called, voice small and distant like he’d kept walking. Virgil didn’t dare look up, eyes on the ground beneath his hands. “It’s not deep, Virge, you can stand up.”

Virgil nodded even though he doubted Roman could see it, his voice refusing to cooperate. He squeezed numb hands into shaky fists, took a breath, and pushed himself up to stand on his free leg.

The next moment happened so fast, Virgil didn’t even register that more ice had broken under his weight until he felt himself falling, and suddenly the icy cold water was much higher than just his leg.

It felt like he’d been hit by a bus- a very, very cold bus- and Virgil gasped as all the ice below him gave way, the water rising up to his chest, wrapping around his body like a vice and yanking him forward without warning.

It was like hundreds of frozen hands were grabbing at him and tugging viciously, shoving him along with the water’s surprisingly violent current while trying to drag him down below the dark surface. Virgil barely had half a second to force his arms to move, frantically reaching for the nearest chunk of intact ice.

He couldn’t feel his fingers, and his hands were shaking so bad he almost didn’t make it, but he managed to get a grip on the edge just in time.

He gasped as he pulled himself to a sudden stop against the relentless current, weakening arms protesting the sudden strain, choking and coughing on the frigid water that managed to lap at the corners of his mouth.

“Princey!” he tried to scream, but he could barely hear himself over the roar of the river. The water hurt, the cold seeping into his skin and stealing his breath, and it took all of his quickly fleeting energy to keep holding on. “Roman!”

There was no response, at least not one that Virgil could hear, and he couldn’t bring himself to lift his head to see if help was coming, terrified that if he looked away from his hands he’d forget how to hold on.

He had to strain to keep his head above water, and he felt like there were boulders in his pockets weighing him down. He was left kicking desperately against the water, because it was definitely not shallow enough for him to stand.

Roman had said it was. Roman had laughed and kept walking and he’d...he hadn’t...he hadn’t left, had he? If he’d done this on purpose-

The dread and fear that came with the thought was almost more overwhelming than the thought of drowning, and Virgil squeezed his eyes shut as he tightened his hold, because Roman wouldn’t do that. He may not like Virgil, but he wasn’t cruel. He wouldn’t...he wouldn’t do this.

A grim voice in the back of his head told him Roman wouldn’t care, that Virgil would never be worth worrying about. Maybe it wasn’t the wind and rushing water blocking out the Prince’s voice...maybe he’d really just already walked away.

He choked back tears and put all his fading focus into staying above the water, the current’s pull growing stronger as his kicking became weaker and weaker. He couldn’t keep holding on. It was so cold and he was so tired-

“Virgil!”

Roman? It was so hard to tell for sure, everything distant and hazy compared to the roaring in his ears and his own too shallow breaths.

Oh god, he couldn’t hold on, he was slipping, he was going to fall-

“Virgil! Hold on, I’m coming!” Either that was Roman, or Virgil’s brain was being very cruel to him right before he died. The latter honestly seemed more likely. “Hold on, please just- I’m coming just hold on!”

He couldn’t feel his hands, barely able to comprehend anything around the all consuming pain settled around him like a blanket, leaving him shaking and numb, teeth chattering in his skull louder than a gunshot and he couldn’t do this- he couldn’t hold on he couldn’t-

“Virgil!”

Virgil didn’t even register what had happened, left only to wonder why the strain on his arms had suddenly been lessened for a single blissful second before realizing his frozen hands had slipped from the ice.

There wasn’t time to take another breath, the river seizing its opportunity to rise above his head and push him under the dark and freezing water, everything suddenly horribly silent.

[hyungieyoongi]

History: “Run Away to You” Part 2

How could you have protected me?

When the world I needed protecting from didn’t even know about us?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Former Actress!Reader

Word Count: 2.3K

Genre: Angst (Not gonna lie, this part is pretty angsty. Please don’t hate me, we have to set up the angst to get to the fluff later, okay??)

Warnings: Reader has a panic attack, mentions of anxiety, arguing, crying – there are a lot of emotions Reader and Yoongi have to process

Series Masterlist: Run Away to You 

Premise: You ran away from your acting career one year ago, disappearing from the spotlight without a trace. No one from your past life knew where to find you. On the anniversary of your disappearance, your carefully constructed reality is shattered.

Part 1 // Part 3

---

Your hands shook as you tried to fit the key into the lock of your apartment door. You missed the keyhole twice, finally succeeding in twisting the lock open with a satisfying click on your third attempt. Swinging the door open with a sigh, you gestured for Yoongi to head in first. You hadn’t spoken a single word to each other since you left the corner store. The silence created a thick tension for the duration of your short, one-block walk.

He walked into your apartment without a glance in your direction, slipping his shoes off by the front door. As he stepped further into your apartment, you closed the door, taking a few deep breaths to try and calm yourself down.

Flashback

The first time Yoongi came to your apartment, you had been a nervous wreck. You anxiously kept glancing at the clock on the wall–he was supposed to be there at 8:00 p.m. It was currently 8:03 p.m., and you were already thinking he wasn’t going to show.

A costar on the K-drama you were cast in had introduced the two of you at an awards show you were invited to attend three months ago. Yoongi seemed nice, but quiet, shaking your hand politely and asking if you enjoyed your work. The conversation lasted maybe two minutes. Fleeting, meaningless.

Then you ran into him again two months later at an album launch party for another popular K-pop group. The conversation was longer this time, Yoongi slipping away from his bandmates to talk to you. The champagne you were drinking that night made you giggly, your cheeks pink from the alcohol. He asked for your number, a gummy smile appearing when you said “yes” a little too enthusiastically.  

After texting casually, you progressed to phone calls, then video calls. This was the first time you were going to hang out together. Movies and takeout had never felt so intimidating. There was a knock at your door, and you sprang up to answer it. You took a deep breath, counted to five, and then opened the door, Yoongi standing there with a sheepish smile, donning a black hoodie.

“Hi, Y/N.”

End of Flashback

You spun around when you heard Yoongi cough, finally breaking the silence.

“Your apartment is different than I thought it would be,” Yoongi observed. He took off his hat and his mask, placing them on your coffee table in front of the couch. He shook out his hair, running his right hand through the dark locks. You swallowed hard, blaming the slight flush to your cheeks on nerves rather than how attractive Yoongi looked messing with his hair.

Your old apartment had been large and glamorous, outfitted with state-of-the-art appliances and expensive furniture. This one was a third of the size and infinitely cozier and more comfortable.

“Well, my old apartment was paid for by the production company. When I moved, I figured I’d get something a little more ‘me,’” you explained.  

“Right. When you moved,” Yoongi emphasized, bitterness lacing his words. “You mean ran away, right?”

“Listen, Yoongi, I know you probably want an explanation–”

“I think I deserve an explanation, don’t you?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, eyebrow quirking up slightly. You had seen that incredulous look on his face before when you two had gotten into arguments.

Flashback

“Come on, Yoongs, you have to be better about taking care of yourself. This pace is unsustainable, and you know it,” you said to him angrily. You were sat on the couch in the Genius Lab, the man in question glaring at you from the chair at his desk.

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you. Y/N, you were filming until 3:00 a.m. yesterday because you wanted the shot to be perfect. Don’t start with me on this,” Yoongi countered.

“But you’re here until 3:00 or 4:00 a.m. every night, Yoongi. Just because I do it once or twice a month does not give you an excuse to overwork yourself.”

He grumbled something you couldn’t hear under his breath, turning back to his computer. You got up from the couch, standing behind him and placing your hands on his shoulders. Your fingers dug gently into the tense muscles of his back. Yoongi relaxed, slouching forward slightly at your touch. You brushed your nose against his neck, placing a gentle kiss there. You heard a tired sigh leave his lips, and you knew the argument was over.

End of Flashback

You figured you wouldn’t win this argument so easily.

Yoongi looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to start an impossible conversation.

“Yes, you’re right. You do deserve an explanation. And I did try to give you one in that letter, Yoongi.” He scoffed at the mention of the letter.

“Don’t even go there, Y/N. A letter telling me to let you go. Really? I wasn’t even worth an in-person goodbye? Let alone the fact that you could have just told me where you were going,” Yoongi started pacing, frustration evident in his voice.

You went to the kitchen, filling a glass with water before taking a long gulp. Your throat suddenly felt extremely dry. You knew he was going to be angry with you if he ever saw you again, but you weren’t prepared for the onslaught of emotions–anger, frustration, helplessness–that you were feeling in this moment.

You placed your hands on the counter to steady yourself, and Yoongi stopped pacing, waiting for you to say something.

“If I told you where I was going, I would never have been able to stop seeing you. And if I didn’t stop seeing you, then I couldn’t get a normal life back. There was nothing I could do but try to move on,” you said, exasperated.

Yoongi took two steps closer to the counter that separated the two of you. It felt like a chasm.

“We were together for six months, I lov–I cared about you. I could have protected you,” Yoongi said quietly, voice cracking.

You looked down, staring down at your knuckles gripping the counter so hard they were turning white. Your eyes started to burn with the effort to hold back tears.

“You, better than anyone, know what it’s like to feel like you’re suffocating. Constantly being watched and picked apart and prodded and asked for more. I was on the verge of breaking down. If I didn’t get out when I did, I would have lost myself. I didn’t have a choice. I had to leave. I didn’t…I didn’t want to leave you. But I had to.”

The tears were starting to fall, one by one, down your cheeks. You let them, still staring at your hands. As soon as the words started tumbling out of your mouth, you couldn’t seem to stop them.

“The entire time we were together, we were a secret. We were always at one of our apartments or your studio, sneaking in and out in the dark. So, how? How could you have protected me? When the world I needed protecting from didn’t even know about us?”

You wiped angrily at your tears, face burning at your vulnerability. Finally looking at Yoongi, you saw tears brimming his own eyes. He refused to look away.

“I ran because I didn’t know what else to do. I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry. But you couldn’t protect me. I had to protect myself.”

Yoongi quickly blinked a few times, trying to rid himself of the tears threatening to spill. 

“You never even answered your phone. I left you dozens of voicemails. I didn’t know if you were okay. You put me through hell. You could have at least just told me you hated me and that you wanted nothing to do with me,” Yoongi rebutted.

“Don’t you get it? I don’t hate you. If I had tried to say goodbye, to end things in-person, I never would have gone through with it. I would have stayed,” you admitted with a sob. “I would have stayed to be with you.”

“Would that have been so bad?” Yoongi asked, his voice rising slightly. “Would it have really been that bad to be with me?”

“It wasn’t about that! I felt like I was already sacrificing my sanity. What was I going to do? Hide away with you forever? I couldn’t even handle my own life, let alone if I became the public girlfriend of a BTS member.”

Yoongi’s lips fell into a flat line.

“That’s not fair. You can’t blame this on me and my career just because you couldn’t stand your own,” Yoongi’s voice was suddenly calm, but his eyes flashed with anger and hurt. “This was your choice. I would have made it work. I would have tried to figure it out with you and this new life you wanted. You didn’t even give me a chance.”

You opened your mouth to respond and defend yourself, but nothing came out. It felt like you had gotten punched in the stomach. You started to breathe heavily, panic quickly engulfing you.

You practically sprinted to the couch past a confused and startled Yoongi, sitting down on the couch and putting your head in your lap, counting backwards from ten and then starting over, again and again, trying to slow your heart rate.

You registered a body next to yours on the couch. A tentative hand reached out, rubbing soothing circles onto your back. He didn’t say anything, waiting patiently for your breathing to return to normal.

You lifted your head slowly, not knowing how long had passed. You didn’t dare look at Yoongi yet.

“When did you start having panic attacks?” he asked gently.

“Over a year ago,” your voice was scratchy from your heavy breathing. Yoongi tensed at the mention of the time spent apart, now seeing one of the repercussions of the stress that you had alluded to while you both were arguing about your mutual history. He didn’t move his hand from where it rested on your back. “I’m really…I really am sorry, Yoongi.”

“I know,” his voice held a level of understanding in it that it didn’t before. He paused, his hand lifting from your back. “I think I should go.”  

You remember what it felt like a year ago to write the letter that would end things with Yoongi for good. It was like your heart was set aflame, burning in pain at your choice to walk away. A year later, Yoongi was the one holding the match.

He stood from the couch, grabbing his hat and his mask. You watched him put on his shoes from your spot on the couch, unmoving.

“I meant it, you know,” Yoongi said, his hand on the doorknob, ready to walk out of your life like you had his. “I would have tried.”

“I know,” you repeated his words, a sad, tight-lipped smile painting your lips. He walked out the door.

---

Once Yoongi left, you raced to your bedroom, pulling open the last drawer of your dresser and throwing the sweatshirts that lined the bottom onto your carpet. There it was, in the back right corner–the phone that you stashed away a year ago, the phone number still active just in case.

You grabbed it, trying the power button hastily, but it didn’t turn on.

“Ugh, come ON!” you yelled to your empty apartment in frustration. You plugged it into the charger on your nightstand, waiting for it to charge.

You picked off your nail polish, your nails bare by the time you tried to turn it on a second time. This time the screen flashed white. You ignored the pit in your stomach, sinking to the floor with the phone grasped tightly in your hand. You sat with your back to your bed, the phone cord stretching to reach you.  

Ignoring the red icons alerting you of the dozens of missed calls and texts, you went straight to voicemail, scrolling rapidly with your thumb until you reached a voicemail from this date last year. 

You pressed play.

Hey, babe, why aren’t you answering your texts? Marianne dropped some paper off for me today, apparently, but I haven’t had a chance to swing by the studio to grab it yet. Call me when you get this, okay?

Your fingers moved on their own to play the next one.

Y/N. You need to answer your phone. This letter I…I’m worried about you. Please, you can’t do this. Don’t leave me. Not like this.

Tears began to stain your cheeks as you listened to Yoongi’s voice go from fearful, to angry, to desperate, all within a span of a few hours, then days, then weeks. With each voicemail, you started to feel worse, but you couldn’t stop yourself. You needed to keep going.

Just tell me where you are. You don’t have to talk to me, but I need to know that you’re okay.

The last message from his number was from seven months ago.

I get it. You don’t want to see me. Probably ever again. So, I’ll do what you told me to do. I’ll let you go. But just know, Y/N, that I loved you. And I think I might always love you. I hope this new life you have makes you happy. I wish I could have made you happy enough to stay.

You let out a quiet sob as your fingers dialed one of the only numbers you had memorized.

“Hello? Y/N, is that you? Why are you using this number?” Marianne answered on the second ring, immediately alarmed.

“Marianne, can you come over? Something’s happened.”

---

“Y/N? Where are you?” Marianne called into your apartment. She had used her copy of your apartment key to get in the door when you didn’t answer her persistent knocks.

You sniffled in response.

Marianne looked into your bedroom, seeing you curled into yourself on the floor. You hadn’t moved since you listened to Yoongi’s voicemails.

She sat beside you and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close. You couldn’t help but wish it was him here comforting you instead.

You had suppressed your love and feelings for him for so many months. Today, you had to confront them, confront the power Yoongi still had over you.

The pain and hurt splashed across Yoongi’s face was fresh on your mind as you cried into your friend’s arms.

Part 1 // Part 3

---

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[thevindicativevordan]

Superman in 2021: Year In Review

What a fucking year it's been for Superman. Might be his best year ever? Certainly his best year of the 21st century so far I would argue, we're at the point now where there's seemingly a Superman project for everyone either out now or in the works. Felt like doing a brief overview of my opinions concerning the major projects he's been featured in this year:

Future State - All the Superbooks were good to great for me at least. Standouts were PKJ's Worlds of War and House of El, Watters Superman/Wonder Woman, and Williamson's JL.

Superman & Lois S1 - The first major piece of Superman media outside of a comic since Smallville to not only be good but actually be well-received by the public at large? Man was that a nice experience. Hoechlin is on his way to becoming my favorite live action take on the character, and Tulloch really wowed with some great Lois scenes that show she has what it takes to be my favorite Lois as well. Plus of course our second live action Steel, with Parks already cementing himself as my favorite live action Steel (sorry Shaq).

The Suicide Squad - Bloodsport became the third Superman villain to show up in film, defying any conventional logic. Furthermore he became the second Superman villain in the DCEU to not be complete crap after Zod. Fun movie and Elba gave a great performance, I hope Bloodsport being introduced to a wider audience means he'll show up in MAWS. Gunn has teased more TSS spinoffs which knock on wood means we could get a Bloodsport HBO Max series. Hopefully Bloodsport will return for TSS2 if that gets made, or show up in other DCEU projects.

Injustice movie was ass - You better believe I gleefully drank in the tears of all the Injustice fanboys on Twitter crying about how DC "butchered" their favorite story. Sucksssss to be you guys! Petty cackles were had at everyone complaining that Flash's death was stupid, like the entire goddamn comic they love so much doesn't run on jobbing and people forgetting how their powers work. Hope that's the end of adapting the Injustice stories outside the games, the movie basically adapted the I1 and I2 comics as well as ending in a place where Superman and WW have realized they were fucking evil. I will allow that a loose adaption of the I2 game with a Superman who has realized he became a monster and wants redemption could be interesting, but otherwise I would love to see this Earth get nuked by the Anti-Monitor in the rumored CoIE trilogy.

PKJ Superman/Action - Despite starting off weak (the two-part Golden Age crossover between Superman and Action was apparently a last minute mandate and his brief Superman run was clearly just buying time for Taylor) from Action Comics #1030 onward PKJ has been the best Action Comics writer since Morrison. Even over Pak who I consider hugely underrated, PKJ has brought a level of worldbuilding, ambition, and stakes to the book that have been sorely lacking for years. His take on Mongul is the best since Alan Moore, he has a solid grasp of Superman's voice, the art has been fantastic, and Action is the book I'm most excited to read every week it comes out. Issue 1038 which came out this week was the first time in a long time where "hope" as a concept came up and felt meaningful. PKJ is putting Superman through hell yet it's being done not to tear him down but to build him back up better than before. I pray he gets a long run on the title, if he can maintain his current level of quality this is going to go down as an all-time great Superman run.

Taylor Superman: SoKE - Tough to give this an analysis. On one hand it's done some things I like: Made Jon bi, brought in Wildstorm concepts, seemingly helped establish Jon as Superman, and so forth. Despite Yara and Jace acquiring greater initial interest, it's Jon who seems the best positioned to succeed in the long run given Taylor's sales success. Until now however Taylor really hasn't lived up to the idea of Jon being the one to deal with "real issues" and the series feels meandering and lacking in direction at times. Normally I'd attribute this to Taylor's weakness with villains - he usually can't write any villain well bar the Joker in my opinion - but his recent SSOKE Annual where Lex and Jon met for the first time since Jon became Superman... was actually very good? Lex felt in character in a way I personally didn't feel he was in other Taylor works that used him. Continuing to pull it and see where Taylor plans to take Jon for now, but I need Taylor to actually give me a sense of what the long term vision for this book is, and build up the villains in addition to Jon. Others have wondered if Jay is going to become Jon's "Magneto" and that could be interesting.

Superman & the Authority - Morrison's swan song for their time with Superman was bittersweet. On one hand full of regrets that for all their hard work, they still aren't sure if they were able to elevate Superman back to the heights they dreamed of when they made their Superman 2000 pitch. Yet also a final goodbye to a character they've undeniably left a mark on, brimming with ideas, and with an optimistic faith that perhaps the next generation will be able to carry the character onward to greatness.

Yang Batman/Superman - Short but sweet, we already knew Yang was a good Superman writer, this showed he's a great Batman & Robin writer as well. I hope to see Yang back in the Superline given the new head of the Superbooks, Paul Kaminski, has edited pretty much every book Yang has done at DC, and Javins edited SSTK for him. Kaminski was also the editor for New Super-Man so I maintain a faint spark of faith that we will get Kenan in something soon.

Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow - Along with the Andrekyo run and Future State, this has convinced me that Kara works best out in space and away from Earth. Really enjoy Supergirl meets True Grit, with a grand tour of the DC Cosmos as the setting. It's my belief that Kara will take on the name Superwoman at the end of this and maybe we'll get a new Superwoman ongoing afterwards? PKJ has said on Twitter he has plans for Kara in the near future but no clue if those are going to take into account what King has done with her here. Be nice if Ruthye stuck around as part of Kara's supporting cast.

Calvin Ellis in Infinite Frontier and Justice League Incarnate - Williamson pairing Calvin and Thomas makes for a fun twist on the World's Finest, Brandon Thomas wrote a great oneshot issue that gave us a "day in the life" of President Superman, and I'm enjoying JLI so far. Calvin and Dr. Multiverse could make a cute couple, I hope they do get together, and am looking forward to Calvin hopefully having a big role to play in the 2022 event that's coming.

Superman vs. Lobo - Unfortunately this turned out to be a dud. Was really looking forward to Seeley on Supes, but neither the attempted humor nor the plot could hold my attention. Shame because I expected to love this given Seeley being a clear fan of Morrison and having done a good job with Superman previously elsewhere. Hope we get a good Superman story with Lobo in it one day, I'm fond of pitting the two against each other.

Superman Red & Blue - Another overall disappointment unfortunately. There were a handful of great stories spread across the six issues, but waaaay too many of what we got were rehashing the same basic story concept over and over. Less of a showcase of the breadth of Superman's world than it was a window into the limitations of the creativity displayed by multiple writers, I have to regretfully label this a dud. Great art let down by tepid storytelling. If I never have to see a "Ma and Pa teach Clark a lesson" or a "civilian saves Superman" or a "Superman comforts a child" story again I will be quite pleased. Maybe I've become jaded but those kind of stories have become too commonplace and have lost whatever impact they used to have for me.

Superman '78 - A very solid nuts-and-bolts Superman story set in the Donnerverse and with the classic status quo for those not enjoying what PKJ and Taylor are doing. Oddly enough reading this is where the brilliance of what Morrison was trying to do with Brainiac really clicked into place for me. Wonder if Venditti was inspired by Morrison's take at all for his own conception of Brainiac here?

World of Krypton - Solid so far and I really love Oeming's portrayal of Krypton. Dude can do trippy scifi like no other. Venditti has been enjoyable so far on these side minis, I wonder if the new head editor for the Superline will keep giving them to him? They don't sell great but they've been well received critically from what I can tell. I'd love to read a Zod mini from Venditti, he's probably the best Zod writer... ever honestly? Unquestionably ruthless but you get a sense of nobility in Venditti's handling of the character that again is present here. Intrigued to see how Venditti handles the Jor-El/Zod split and also hoping for more Kara from him given how well he handled her in his Annual.

Additionally there's stuff coming up in the future that was announced this year which I have thoughts on:

Battle of the Super-Sons - Kid Jon fans get a win! DC animation has had it's fair share of misses lately so this isn't guaranteed to be good, but it at least will provide some new content for people who want their boy back. Going CG animated over traditional animation should be interesting, wonder if it will go for a similar style as the GL show?

My Adventures With Superman - Sucks that it's been delayed until 2023, but on the upside that means it's debuting for Superman's 85th anniversary! Very excited for this, even if it ends up not appealing to me personally it's the first major Superman project in a while to focus solely on him, and will hopefully win over a new generation into thinking he's cool. What we've been shown so far looks great, I hope they do a good job with the villains, and it would be awesome if Steel and Kenan managed to show up in this.

Legion of Superheroes HBO Max animated series - And for us Teen Jon fans and Bendis defenders there's this! Early in preproduction still but Bendis has specifically said this will be using his run as a base, which almost assuredly means it will be using Jon as the POV character. If it does get made I'll definitely check it out.

Mark Waid/Dan Mora Batman/Superman - Another project that seems made to give those not feeling the IF status quo a chance. Excited to see what Waid will do with Mora, he mentioned that he had to reign himself in because he went really heavy on the Superman Rogues at first. Also talked about on Word Balloon how he doesn't want this to be a "retro" book, he's aiming for contemporary storytelling. Apparently Dick as Robin will be in every issue as a return to the true "World's Finest" trio, with Dick making jokes as comic relief. Want Waid to do well and hope he'll turn in something on the level of his Dr. Strange run if not his Daredevil run.

Mark Waid/Bryan Hitch Superman Black Label project - Besides mentioning that this will be set in the Birthrightverse on other podcasts, Waid talked a bit about this on a recent Word Balloon interview. He mentioned that this will explore why Superman doesn't kill. This is totally going to be a pointed "fuck you" to the Snyder fans who kept using Birthright to defend Snyder's take won't it? Heh well I'll check it out, same as his B/S series I'm hoping Waid can knock it out of the park given this is likely his last chance with Superman.

League of Super Pets - Trailer was funny and the relationship between Krypto and Superman looked great. If it does well I hope to get a sequel and maybe even a solo big budget Superman animated movie.

Superman & Lois S2 - From what they've shared so far there's going to be a "Superman" villain and a "Lois" villain, with the two not working together but both threatening the Kent family. Guessing Anderson is just the opening foe like how Irons was, most interesting part for me is seeing how the Superfamily and the Steel family interact given the tension that's sure to be there from living together.

Possibly an animated Crisis on Infinite Earths trilogy - Apparently the rumor mill is saying that the 2023 DC DTV animated movies will be a three-part adaption of CoIE. Word is that it will involve every animated DC property ever created, from Super Friends, to the DCAU, to the DCAMU, to the standalone animated movies, and more. Sounds like it could be entertaining if they actually get the budget for it.

Supergirl movie - Curious but need to see Sasha in action before deciding whether to go or not. My guess is that if this actually gets made, it will be a loose adaption of Johns/Frank Brainiac arc in the comics. Maybe Cavill will show up as a co-star here if he's actually in The Flash and WB can come to terms with him.

Val-Zod HBO Max series - Don't care, don't like Val, don't plan on watching. Should be good for those who like the character however. My guess is it will be another Supergirl/Miles situation where they take stuff from Clark and give it to Val. Long as it's not adapting the evil Superman "Brutaal" bullshit and it doesn't screw over S&L from doing whatever they want by poaching villains, I'm fine with this show existing much as I would've preferred Kenan be the one getting a show.

Coates Superman reboot - This on the other hand I'm expecting to be garbage. Coates' time writing Black Panther and Captain America was terrible, he name dropped the DCAU incarnation as a source of inspiration, which I'm not a fan of, and nothing so far has given me any reason to believe WB knows how to make a good Superman movie. With what has been rumored so far - black Clark, Elseworld, set in the past, based on the "original" Superman - my guess is this will be a loose adaption of Superman Smashes the Klan. Fits in with what we've been told so far, lines up with Coates historical interest, and makes for an easy Oscar bait movie about racism which I assume is what this is going for. They should've tapped Yang for this.

Possibly a Superman game in the works at WB Montreal? - No real reason to believe this is coming but with the Monolith WW game announcement we suddenly have proof that WB might actually be willing to greenlight DC games that don't star Batman. They're gearing up pre-production on a second DC game so there's a chance, and given I've written off film Superman as a lost cause at this point, just give me a goddamn Superman game and I'll be happy.

While we're still far behind the highs experienced by the Spider-Man and Batman fanbases, Superman fans have a lot to be thankful for and to look forward to. Situation isn't perfect, there's still projects coming that I'm not looking forward to, such as the inevitable Injustice 3, but for now I can say I genuinely am happy with where Superman is at and I feel optimistic about the future. Seeing people clown him across social media platforms recently when someone suggested the idea of a Supermen multiverse team up in the vein of No Way Home was depressing, I have to admit that. But there's been plenty of great Superman stories that came out this year and most of the upcoming Superman projects appeal to me. The 20s seem poised to make up for the 10s being his worst decade ever. Perhaps at the end of this decade the idea of a multiversial Supermen team up will inspire excitement instead of scorn.

[liquid-luck-00]

My Life is One Complication After Another 3

Cursing Ahead 🤬

Ao3 *** First *** Previous *** Next

~~~~~~~~~~

Ever since Mari's classmates stopped talking with her, they also stopped asking her for favors. Along with a blocked and rotating schedule for patrols meant that she actually had a sleep schedule. Sure she didn't get nearly enough but that was what coffee is for.

That was how she found herself down in the bakery with her papa. Roy had called her and the four of them talked and it was comfortable. Mari was the one who opened and was watching the front. She was still talking with Roy, but now it was on a headset, as he was out patrolling In Starling City.

"So as I was saying before we were oh so rudely interrupted." came Roy's voice in her ear. "So Ice cream and movies?"

A soft laughter escaped her and a smile on her lips.

"Sounds gre..." the bell at the door chimed. "Hey guys come in," she greeted the Waynes.

"Let me guess the bats?" Roy supplied as Dick bounced towards the counter.

"Good morning Marinette!" Dick practically sang loud enough for even Roy to hear.

"God how the hell is he so chipper so early." she heard Roy grumble.

"God damn morning people," she grumbled. That elicited laughter from both Roy and Jason.

"Amen to that!" Tim seconded in a monotone lifting a coffee cup. "Maman I'm going to take the Waynes up." she called poking her head into the kitchen. Her Maman nodded so she picked up her phone and walked towards them.

"I'll Let you go," Roy was about to hang up.

"Wait how about we give the Bats a heart attack." she smirked changing to the ancient language of miracles.

"I like the way you think, I'll catch you later." he responded in the same tongue.

"See ya then." she smiled, switching back the language. Ending the call and removing the ear piece. “Are you guys coming or do I have to drag you guys?" she turned back already at the door. Granted most of them showed confused faces and side eyes, but she smiled. They followed her without saying a word.

Once they were in the apartment she excused herself to change into more appropriate gear. She activated Kaalki’s miraculous, who then silently portaled out.

That being said she changed into a pair of black skinny cargo pants with red combat boots. A black long sleeve shirt under a cropped red sleeveless hoodie. Her hair was half down with red and pink streaks and a mini white gold backpack with three patches in the same white gold finished her outfit. She grabbed four parcels and went down.

"So we can either do the boring ground tour or," she held up the bundles. "we can turn up the speed."

"I like the way you think Pixie Pop." Jason stood and she handed him his.

"Roy sent me you guy's sizes, so I altered and customized a few things." she smiled. "bathroom is over there and the guest room is next to it." Dick looked torn between excited and horrified when handed his stack.

Tim seemed awake, but she knew better, "go change and I'll have a fresh pot of coffee ready." He nodded robotically as he got up.

She set the last bunch next to Damian, who was looking like an angry kitten. She sat down next to him and leaned in.

"What are you.." he started but Mari whispered in his ear.

"The jacket has a hidden sling for a katana, which will be practically invisible when on." His eyes widened slightly and there was a bit of slack in his jaw now. Before turning into an amused smirk. "Use my room up the stairs and through the hatch." she finished as he headed up the stairs.

"I'm impressed he let you close without struggling," Bruce broke his silence, as she finished prepping the coffee maker.

"Well he would have if," she began as Damian practically crashed down the stairs and all but tackled Bruce before rushing out the door. The closest she had ever seen her baby brother smile, which effectively made her smile.

"Holy crap! What are you?!" Dick made himself known.

"More importantly what the fuck did you do with Demon spawn!" Jason shouted from next to Tim, who was being propped up by both Jason and Dick.

"Tt. I am right here Todd." The scowl reappearing on his features. "It is adequate Dupain-Cheng."

"I'll take it as a compliment on one condition."

"And that is?" he rose a brow.

"You call me Marinette not Dupain-Cheng. I'm your sister aren't I?"

He seemed to war with himself for a moment before stating. "That is acceptable, Marinette."

At this point all the bats in the room were playing a game of ping-pong between Marinette and Damian. They were trying to figure out what magic spell Marinette must have used, when in reality she just seemed to fall into Damian’s good graces automatically. OK so maybe Marinette being the holder of the ladybug miraculous as well as being the great guardian of the order has that affect on most people, a sense of respect and trust that seems to permeate her aura.

She was handing Tim a huge mug as the front door swung open to reveal her Maman.

"Hello Bruce," Sabine greeted.

"It is good to see you Sabine," was his response.

“Maman," Mari pulled her mother's attention from her biological father. "These are Bruce's boys and my brothers. Tim, Jason, Dick, and Damian." she motioned to each one respectively.

"It's nice to meet all of you." Sabine smiled, "why don't all of you get something from the bakery before you go."

After finishing their small breakfast in the park Mari pulled out a map and a marker.

"So what do you guys want to see?" They listed off places that she marked down. She added a few to the list to fill it out, marked the route and took a picture and sent it to Roy. "Okay so this will work." she glanced at her phone. A quick look on social media showed no one has found Andre yet. She pulled out a case of comms and added, "Also keep your eyes out for Andre."

"Who is that?" Dick asked taking the earpiece.

"Andre's Ice cream cart, the best ice cream in Paris." Marinette answered.

"Then why must we look for him?" Damian added.

"Well he changes locations daily and turns it into a game of tag of sorts."

"Alright, lead the way Pixie." with a smirk she dashed off her brothers close on her heels.

Yes this is the best way to get to see the city, but this was also a test to see how the bats did without their toys.

Getting to Notre Dame was uneventful. Dick kept up a steady conversation with her, just a step behind with Damian, Jason brought up the rear but would constantly toss in quips and questions. Damian and Tim were mostly quiet, unless they were trying to get one of their brothers to stop a particularly embarrassing story.

Getting to the Louve was even more entertaining. Now that Dick had a feel for the Parisian roofs he would do flips and vaults to make her laugh. In the Louve is another story.

They had accidentally ran into some of her classmates, quite literally. She and her brothers were taking goofy 'walk like an Egyptian' group photos on the second floor of the Egyptian exhibit, the mini Ladybug camera was reattaching to her phone charm when Tim began asking her questions about it.

"Well my best friend loves anime, and we kinda sorta binged the entire Dragon Ball series and when we saw the ladybug camera. He said it would be impossible to create and maintain the quality of the image. So I kinda sorta made it out of spite." she mumbled the end.

"Hell if you weren't my sister I would beg Bruce to adopt you," Tim stated. "Do you have the files I would love to look through them. Maybe send them to Babs or Cy!"

"Sure I think I have it on a flash drive." That was when a tall body, walking backwards slammed into her, pushing her into Jason. "oof."

"You okay." Dick was in full mama hen mode fretting over her.

"I wasn't watching where I was going." the figure spoke as he turned around. "I'm sor." the words died on his tongue, Kim.

Max, Alix, Nino, Alya, and oh kwami no Lila, who were now all snickering.

"I'm fine Dick," she smiled to reassure him. However her classmates were shocked.

Lila of course was the one who broke the silence, by beginning to cry. "I'm so sorry about her. I know she hates me but to be so rude to a complete stranger!" her sobs breaking the sentence while her lackeys went to console her, glaring daggers at Marinette.

"Seriously girl," Alya began to scold her. "Your little out burst not only made Lila cry. Your insulting someone who is just trying to be nice."

She and her brothers were now standing awkwardly being scolded by a teenager. After three minutes of trying to figure out what they were being scolded for and why the guys hadn't apparently left.

"What the fuck did she do that your yelling at her for?" Jason finally broke Alya's rant. Now it was the five Parisians and the Italian to stand there confused.

"She called him a dick," Alya sighed exasperated.

"Yes." Dick answered confusing them further.

"Dick."Tim now called.

"What?!"

"Dick!!" Damian, Marinette, Tim, and Jason all called, and immediately began laughing.

"What? Oh, oh," a sheepish smile now on his face. “Names Richard but I go by Dick,” he explained to those who weren’t laughing, smiling at them.

"Tt. this is why I call you Grayson." Damian rolled his eyes. "Besides this one still has not apologized." he jabbed a finger to Kim.

"It's not worth it Damian,” Marinette shook her head. "We should head back to the bakery anyways. Maman has probably finished scolding Bruce." she smirked.

"Damn I wish I was a fly on the wall for that conversation" Jason lamented.

"Well..." she held up the ladybug charm and flipped it over showing an empty space.

"Two!" Tim shouted.

"Anyone who beats me back gets a copy," she smiled.

"Your on." Jason nodded as he vaulted over the safety wall from the second floor. Damian and Dick sprinted in opposite directions.

"Sorry Mars your gonna loose." Tim shouted as the last to leave.

"We'll see," she shot back. "Bye," She turned to her classmates as she grabbed the railing above and flipped up and over to the third floor, running to one of the secret zip lines the miraculous team set up.

"What the fuck" was faintly heard behind her, all but Lila and Max shouted by the sounds of it, as she jumped from the window.

She made up quite a bit of distance and seemed to be on Damian's heel. She had passed Tim and Dick was a few steps behind. Jason was just out of arm reach. So with a burst of speed both she and Damian were shoulder to shoulder with Jason.

The three of them simultaneously practically crashed into the side door of the bakery.

"I won."

"In your dreams Todd."

"I beat both you and Pixie"

"Check your eyes, or do you need the camera installed in your helmet." Jason's gaze hardened at Damian's words.

"How about we call it a three way tie and you both get a copy." Mari interrupted. "We should head up." Laughing Marinette opened the door and went up.

Lunch was rambunctious, but she was coming to expect that with her brothers.

“Too bad we couldn’t find that ice cream guy Mari,” Tim spoke up once everyone had finished eating.

“Oh let’s see if anyone has posted where he’s at today!” She went to check her phone but a message ended up distracting her.

Andres in your favorite spot I’ll meet you there at 7 your time.

"Cool he’ s in my favorite spot in all of Paris which just happens to be the last spot on our list today," she announced, sending off a text, setting her phone down, screen up.

Can't wait Katniss

"Why don’t you all go and Mari can get to know Bruce," Sabine offered.

OK granted it’s a good idea, maybe I should get to know my biological father but am I ready to? Do I want to? Am I yes, yes I want to get to know my biological father, yes I want my family to grow, my brothers are such protective goofballs and I love them already.

"Sounds good," she smiled.

That was when her phone lit up from a message. She went to pick it up, but she was to slow.

Jason was the one who snacked her phone. "Message from Katniss says see ya then Peeta. So who's Katniss Pixie."

"Well..." she started but she began to blush furiously.

"That would be her boyfriend," her Maman decided to add before heading back down to the bakery with Papa.

Dick pounced asking a million and one questions, Bruce physically froze but she could tell his mind was racing because that look was much the same as hers. Jason was pensive, while Tim and Damian just seemed bored or tired.

So that was how she found herself talking about Roy, blushing furiously. While simultaneously avoiding his name and details that would tip any of them off. After about a half hour of her answering questions did Dick start telling her about his fiancée. How they were planning on setting a date for the wedding.

After that the next few hows was spent sharing stories and tidbits of themselves.

However, thanks to Dick a design was swimming in her mind. so she did the only logical thing and ran up to her room. Grabbed three drives, her tablet and pen and ran back down. She tossed the red drive to Tim, and Jason and Damian each a black drive. Plopped down and began stretching out an Italian suit with a nock lapel. A rough coloration of a midnight blue offset by a sapphire. Accents of golden thread, emerald buttons and an Osiria rose in the lapel. She signed the design 'Mira Luck' and handed Dick the tablet.

"So I couldn't help myself," she begun to fidget. "But in my defense you told a designer about a wedding and my brain wouldn't stop screaming at me until this was on something. So what do you think? I know its rough but."

"Holy Shit your Mira Luck as in M, Jagged Stones personal designer. You are M as in the designer for the Lucky Spot!!" Tim screamed lunging to take the tablet from Dick.

"That's me," a blindingly bright smile lit up her features.

"So what do you think?" she asked again.

"It's amazing we were actually hoping to talk to you about Kori’s dress." Dick smiled. "I could call her it's not too late there."

"Perhaps it would be best to discuss it in person when Marinette next goes, that way she can get to know Gotham." Bruce interjected.

"That actually might be sooner than you think," she responded.

"I was actually accepted to be an exchange student for the next semester at Gotham Academy."

"Wait you’re willing we going to Gotham to study! You ’re going to Gotham willingly. Bruce I think your daughter might be a little crazy." Jason surprisingly brought up.

"I might be but but it’s no crazier than Paris and it’s a Akumas. Besides I would love to design your fiancée’s dress and we should head over to Andre’s ice cream before the sunsets that way we can watch the lighting of the Eiffel tower." She got up and called out. "Hey Jason mind passing me my backpack."

"Yeah sure," he went around he couch to grab it and toss it to her but before he did he finally seemed to notice the patches. "Wait are these The Outlaws."

"Yeah Red Hood, Arsenal, Star Fire, and Bizarro." she was smiling.

"Why choose The Outlaws?" Tim brought up.

"Honestly it was because Roy mentioned something about Arsenal and Red Hood and I ended up liking of the logos, so I made them into the backpack," she shrugged. "Besides unless you’re looking at it close enough you can’t tell which is always fun to see if people pay attention to it, let’s go."

At that the six of them walked out of the apartment, away from the bakery towards the Palais de Chaillot.

"So what's so special about Andre's Ice cream?" B asked.

"Personally I think he is a meta. But what he does is he can either see your true reflection or that of the person best suited to you."

"So he sees souls?" Tim added.

"Not quite, more like he sees the main qualities of you or your go." she tapped her chin.

"But he is meta,” Tim tried to figure.

"That's the only explanation I can come up with but I have no idea." Marinette shrugged.

"So how does he do it." Tim was now fully invested in this.

"Well you either ask for love or self and he usually does three to four ice cream flavors and gives a short reason."

They were now at the top of the stairs at the Palais de Chaillot looking out at the Eiffel Tower. They stood there as the last of the light faded from the sky. The city was dark for a moment as the Eiffel Tower lit up and slowly the lamps lit up.

"So that's why this is your favorite spot Minnie." A voice behind her chuckled. She turned around and nearly tackled him.

"Hey speedy." she pecked his cheek.

Not a second later did Jason scream, "Roy!"

"Ready for that movie?” Roy asked her an arm around her shoulders.

"Of course," she smiled. "See you guys around."

"What the fuck are you doing in Paris Roy!?" Jason screamed.

"Um... Date night," he answered. The Waynes were now practically surrounding the couple.

"What?" Apparently it was Dick's turn to yell.

"Seriously. I thought you said the bats and birds were detectives." she spoke just loud enough for them to hear. "It's kinda hard to believe with the big bat having a heart attack over there." Sure enough Bruce was seriously hyperventilating.

"Oh mind giving this to LB?" He handed her a small nondescript red box.

"Sure," Marinette took the box, "Au Revoir."

From there they left and oh kwamii did she wish she could replay that again, oh wait I can.

Next

~~~~~~~~~~

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[coeurdastronaute]

Nerd 14

Previously on Nerd

There weren’t many things considered as decorations in the house on the corner of Inglewood Street. The old stone house, with its black shutters and manicured lawn hid behind a stately oak and the polished Porsche in the driveway, glowed as a beacon in the neighborhood, of perfection and wealthy modesty. Inside, it was less populated than one might expect, never fully lived-in, at least not to the casual observer. 

Clarke moved her way down the stairs as she balanced the bag on her shoulder, fully prepared for work and then studying with her girlfriend on a fairly boring Saturday night. For the first time in a long time, she looked at the sparse frames of pictures of her family. 

Unsure of what made her pause, she furrowed, pushing her eyebrows tightly together and leaning into the image of her mother and father on a random date when they were together in college. They were carefree and at some bar trivia night. Abby hugged Jake’s bicep and nearly hid in his shoulder as he leaned forward, other arm lifted to interject an answer. He was smiling wide despite his eagerness, the flash ricocheting off part of his large glasses. His hair was floppy and fully, swept to the side and neatly arranged, while Abby was brimming with life. Clarke loved the candid picture because sometimes she looked at it, and these were two people who had entire lives and experiences and she forgot that. They probably got butterflies like she did when Lexa smiled at her. They probably spent hours excitedly waiting to see the other. 

In that picture, her mother wasn’t the person she was now, though both seemed insanely far away from Clarke. This college-aged person was alive, vibrant, in-love, awake, eager, and not cheating on her husband. The body language alone showed how much she adored him. 

In that picture, her father was the funny, charming man she remembered, not the angry, frustrated man who was skin and bones, who couldn’t eat, who couldn’t swallow, who had difficulties moving most days and remembering his own daughter others. He was alive as well. He was the man everyone wanted to sit beside for some reason, for som inexplicable reason he had this… he had a spark that drew those to him like a moth to a flame, except he was that flame, and he shared his light eagerly with those around him. 

Clarke relaxed her face after a few moments of looking and seeing and trying to find some kind of detail in that picture that would indicate that the couple in it would know what their life would like like two decades later. There wasn’t a single indication, and that terrified her. 

“Did you finish you math?” her mother’s voice called from the hallway, hearing her daughter shift and move to look at the next picture without seeing her first. 

“Yes.” 

The next image was a very tiny Clarke on her father’s shoulders and her mother hugging his waist as they all stood beneath a redwood tree. They had hiking gear, shorts, sunglasses, hats and sunscreen. They were all smiling. They were a family. 

“Did you email me that draft of your personal essay for applications?” 

Clarke gave up perusing, no longer feeling the yearn for that family unit that was far away. She rolled her eyes and stomped her way down the steps to find her mother sorting through envelopes and mail. 

“No.” 

“Why not?” Abby didn’t look up as she flipped.

“Because I’m a junior, and I have five months before applications are due.”

“That’s no excuse not to be prepared. Maybe if you didn’t spend so much time chasing after some gir--”

“Who am I chasing after?” Clarke scoffed, crossing her arms and peering at her mother. “Do you mean helping Lexa on her submission for film school? Do you mean tennis practice? Do you mean working part time? Do you mean having a social life?” 

“Considerate that you can help someone else get into college.” 

“It’s going to take her months to edit, which I can’t-- I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

That did it. Clarke knew it would. Clarke new an overt expression of her own independence would trigger her mother. She knew arguing and not appearing to care about college would give her the satisfaction of a righteous fight. She wanted it. It’d been brewing for about a week and a half, ever since Clarke said she was going prom dress shopping without her. Ever since Clark forgot to tell her about spending the night camping with Lexa and the film crew while the powered through the project. Ever since Clarke didn't’ come home for dinner last Tuesday and then raved about Mrs. Woods’ garlic chicken. Tiny things Clarke did with spite because she didn’t know what else to do, because she couldn’t do anything else. 

Abby’s nostrils flared and Clarke jutted her hip, shrugging to herself as she dug for her phone, ready to go to work and escape the house and the persistent smell of medical equipment and cleaner that haunted her until she was about two blocks from the house. 

“I’ll be home around midnight.” 

“Like hell you will. You’ll be home right after your shift.” 

“No,” Clarke paused as she turned to leave. “I’m going over Lexa’s to study. We’re watching a Cary Grant movie.” 

“You’re under the misconception that you get to make your own schedule and plans without asking permission. But that is not the case, Clarke.” 

“I’ve been doing fine.” 

“You’ve barely been home. Your father is--”

“Right there, in that room, asleep. I know this because I spent the morning with him. We made pancakes and played a game of cribbage. We talked about school and Lexa and I showed him pictures of the past week of my life. And I helped him with his meds because he’s having a bit of a flare. I told him I’d see him in the morning for omelettes because we’ve been watching cooking shows together and he wants to try the french style. I know exactly what is going on with my father.” 

She hadn’t meant to, but her voice began to raise as she spoke. Clarke felt her fist shake. She felt her muscles tighten and her jaw clench. She was okay with being considered lazy and unmotivated, but to be accused of negligence was uncalled for, especially from someone like her mother. 

“Don’t you raise your voice! You are greatly mistaken as to the nature of our relationship. I am your mother, and I am sick of your attitude, and your priorities not being your father and your family or your education.” 

“Lexa has nothing to do with any of that. Are you just mad I’m dating a girl? Or that I don’t care what you think anymore?” 

Slightly taken aback by her daughter, by her words, by her actions, by her entire demeanor over the past few months and frankly just sick of dealing with being the bad guy. 

“I don’t even know who you are anymore,” Abby shook her head. 

“I could say the same thing.” 

The two stared at each other before Clarke shook her head and adjusted her bag. She toyed with her keys in her pockets before checking her phone again. 

“I’m going to be late for work. I’ll be back tonight.” 

“You’re not going anywhere,” Abby insisted again. “You’re grounded indefinitely.” 

“Except I’m not,” Clarke sighed and shook her head. “I’m not because I don’t care anymore. I genuinely don’t.”

“You’re going to. Give me your keys and your phone.” 

“No.” 

“I’m not joking, Clarke. You’re going to need to readjust your priorities and attitude.”

“I think you should take your own advice,” Clarke insisted as she reached the front door. “Or are you too busy fucking Kane to realize that there is no more family here?” 

With a satisfying slam, she yanked the door shut. The anger that was stationed in her shoulders dissipated with the noise and movement. Clarke stood there in the quiet of her perfect neighborhood, the flapping of the flag lazily moving in the spring breeze was all she heard at first. Then the birds came. Then a lawnmower started in the distance. 

Clarke felt lighter than she’d felt in a long time. She also felt emptier than any other time in her life. It was officially the end, and now she had to deal with that because the anger and the hurt and the betrayal was all she’d had in her for what felt like months. It hadn’t made anything better, and it certainly ruined everything, but Clarke took some solace in the fact that now she could try to fill herself up with something else. 

XXXXXXXXXX

The party at Bellamy Blake’s house was in full swing by the time Lexa made her way up the winding driveway and into the belly of the beast. She wasn’t sure how she ended up there exactly, except that her girlfriend texted and said to show up. That seemed to be enough of a reason, though Lexa wasn’t particularly prepared. They’d had plans. Quiet plans. Private plans. Movie plans. 

And now Lexa was going to her girlfriend’s ex’s party. 

She shoved her hands in her pockets as she moved through the crowd, clearly not getting the memo that jeans were not entirely good enough attire, and in fact she seemed to be extremely overdressed. Her eyes bugged slightly as she watched a girl from her physics class walk by in a very tiny, very teeny lime green bikini. Lexa became suddenly aware of the appeal of such things, as if she hadn’t noticed them before, but then MIchelle who sat diagonally in front of her third period looked like that and she gulped. 

The music thumped loudly. The beats were rattling the walls and shaking the windows while the screams and giggles of her classmates sought to shatter glass. It wasn’t like the other parties she’d been to with Clarke. It wasn’t even like thrones Anya dragged her to when she visited. This was a night of debauchery and she hadn’t had time to prepare. 

And as much as she saw everyone else wearing bikinis, she hadn’t thought about Clarke wearing one. She’d seen Clarke’s boobs before. That was nice. But there was something to her girlfriend in a bikini that was… good. Very good, even. 

Lexa pushed her glasses up slightly on her nose and stared. 

“What are you doing here?” Gus asked, approaching quietly. She didn’t move or say anything else, just stared from across the pool, the steam billowing upward to ward the sky while everyone seemed to glow blue and green and red, the lights alternating around them, the flames of the fire pits dancing to keep everyone warm. The warm glow of the lights inside were lost on the white-blue shade to the water. 

“Lexa, focus,” he snapped his fingers in front of her face. “What are you doing here? Your sister would kill me if she knew you were at a Blake party.” 

“How is it different than any other party?” 

“It just is.” 

“Because of the pool? I’ve been to pool parties.” 

It hadn’t been since seventh grade and didn’t look like an episode of a CW show, but still, she’d been to a pool party with many of the same cast of characters that were currently on display. It was before puberty, but still. 

“We need to get you home.” 

“Clarke invited me.” 

“It doesn’t matter. This isn’t your scene.” 

“I can be in any scene. I’ve watched every John Hughes movie.”

“This is more of an episode of Euphoria than an 80s teen flick,” Gus sighed and took another swig from his cup. “And I fully believe you would fit in fine with Molly Ringwald.”

“That’s very kind of you to say,” Lexa nodded. “I’ll be fine.” 

She took her eyes off of her girlfriend long enough to assure her friend that she was perfectly fine now. She was dating the head cheerleader. She’d been to parties and seen--

“Gus-- is that cocaine?” 

“Okay, yeah, we have to get you out of here,” he shook his head and tossed his empty cup into a flowerbed. 

“Is it really?” she asked, craning her neck as he pushed her forward. “I’ve never see that in real life before. People actually do that thing with the credit cards and dollar bills? Astounding. Where does one get cocaine?” 

“You don’t need to know that.” 

“I’m not going to do it. I’m just curious.” 

They only made it a few steps before the ran into a sopping body. A tall, muscular, tan, perfectly chiseled and dripping body. It was the body of an actual god. It was the body of the perfect specimen, with biceps and the long swimmer cuts that pointed firmly toward his… his-ness. 

“Gus, long time, man. How you been?” Bellamy Blake grinned before slipping his cup in his teeth as he hugged the other football player. 

“Not too bad. Heard you’re heading to Oregon in the fall?” 

“Yeah, partial scholarship. We’ll see what happens,” he shrugged. “Staying close?” 

“Yeah, St. Johns, about three hours away.” 

“Full ride?” 

“Yeah. I got offered half to OSU, but would rather not have to pay anything.” 

“No, that’s smart.” 

The whole time they spoke, Lexa watched Clarke’s ex intently. She frowned to herself and wondered how her girlfriend broke up with him. He was effortlessly cool. He was huge. He looked like he knew how to go down on a girl, and Lexa was still apprehensive. She wished she could fast forward in life until she was really good at sex. 

She watched him grin and sip from his red cup, meeting her eyes curiously as Gus explained something about his college recruitment process. 

“I don’t think we’ve ever met before. I’m Bellamy.” 

He held out his hand. And though she didn’t want to do it, she sighed and shook his hand. 

“Sorry, I should have introduced you. This is Lexa.” 

“Lexa… Lexa…” He mulled. 

“Anya Woods’ sister.” 

“Wow, you’re Anya’s little sister?” 

“Yeah.” 

“How is she? I forgot she had a little sister. I remember her little brother died-- oh shit.” 

“Yeah.” 

“We were just heading out,” Gus interrupted. 

“I was actually just going to go talk to Clarke.” 

“Why would you--”

Before anything else could be said, before anything else could transpire between the two of them, before Gus had to interrupt again, Clarke appeared, launching herself into her girlfriend’s arms, wrapping her own around her neck, her body still slightly damp from the pool she must have just climbed out of during the awkward introduction. 

“You’re here. I’m so happy,” Clarke hummed against Lexa’s warm neck. She buried herself there, suffocating herself happily, slightly tipsy. 

“I told you I’d stop by.” 

Clarke kissed her girlfriend’s neck. She leaned most of her body against her there and giggled, oblivious to the eyes, too drunk to care about anything else happening. 

“I am have the worst day. Maybe the worst week. Maybe the worst year ever. No, wait. Definitely the worst year, and today I finally told my mom everything and then left. So Yeah. It’s been terrible. I got drunk.” 

“Not the healthiest coping mechanism.”

“Not a bit,” Clarke grinned, agreeing eagerly and with a wide grin. She leaned forward and kissed her girlfriend despite her words. 

“You can be healthy tomorrow,” Lexa offered. “You okay?” 

“As okay as can be.” 

There was some throat clearing that happened behind them, and Lexa felt a burning in her ears and chest at the display, unaccustomed to it all. 

“So this is your new girlfriend?” Bellamy asked, looking at the pair. 

“Lex, I suppose you’ve met my ex,” Clarke gestured. 

“Kind of.” 

“Is this party a little much?”

“If I remember correctly, this was exactly the kind of thing you liked. We went to many a party in our tenure,” Bellamy shrugged, lazily leaning against a counter. “Things changed since I left, I guess.” 

“I enjoyed not thinking,” Clarke offered. “You were great for that.” 

Gus and Lexa looked between the two and then at each other. She was almost certain she didn’t know what was happening, but that certainly, something was, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. 

“You moved on quick, huh?” 

“Hey, step back,” Gus interrupted as Bellamy took a single step. “This is Anya’s sister.” 

“Woods?” he furrowed. “You’re dating Anya Woods’ kid sister?” 

“Yup,” Clarke nodded. 

“I heard she was--”

“Standing right here,” Gus finished. 

Lexa felt Clarke’s hand move into her own and she smiled despite the fact that she was picking up a drunk girl at her college guy ex’s party. There was a lot in that sentence she wasn’t happy about, now that she thought about it. 

“You ready to get out of here?” Lexa asked innocently, ignoring the rest. 

“I think we still have a few more shots lined up, Clarke,” Bellamy smiled and Lexa understood the need to punch. 

Noticeably torn, she looked at her girlfriend and back at her ex before realizing that she was actually drunk, and that wasn’t good. Lexa smiled softly and rubbed her girlfriend’s back. She kind of imagined how it must have felt to implode and take her mother down with her. Lexa remembered the feeling of telling her father she was gay and sad. Clarke’s implosion didn’t seem as successful as her own, and Lexa was more than happy to try to help in whatever way she could. 

“Can I stay at your place tonight?” 

“Yeah,” Lexa nodded quickly. “I’ll text my mom to let her know.” 

“You’re seriously leaving?” The college football player and terrible ex scoffed. “The night is still young. It’s barely after eleven.” 

“Thanks for getting me drunk, but I should probably go do something better.” 

“Thanks for showing me around,” Lexa offered nodding her head slightly toward the host before he could argue. “Have a good night. I’ll see you on Monday, Gus.”

“Get home safe,” the linebacker warned. 

Slightly dumbfounded, Bellamy Blake stood there, hands on his hips as he watched his ex weave through the crowd of people and disappear. As much s everything stayed the same, he couldn’t shake the sinking feeling of change, and how averse he was to it. 

XXXXXXXXXX

“Here, you can, uh,” Lexa quickly moved through her bedroom, leaving her girlfriend standing by the bed. “I have some old sweats if you want.” 

Already, Clarke began taking off her pants, and Lexa quickly looked in the drawers of her dresser. She felt the tips of her ears burn slightly as she looked over her shoulder, her girlfriend slumping into the bed, pants lost to the floor. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have gone to that party. I knew it,” Clarke sighed, rubbing her face with both hands to ride herself of the spinning. “But I didn’t care. I just wanted to… you know…”

“You had it out with your mom. You just anted to go far away. I get it.” 

“Don’t be nice to me. I knew better than to go, especially to anything involving Bellamy Blake.” 

“Why?” 

“He doesn’t care about any of it. Just has drinks. I should have called you or like done something else.” 

“You’re allowed to want to take a night off from a giant secret after a huge fight. And you don’t need my permission,” Lexa reminded her girlfriend, offering an old shirt. 

“It was stupid.” 

“Do you feel better?” 

Gingerly, Lexa tugged at Clarke’s shirt, pulling it over her head until she flopped back down on the bed, her hair fanning out against the pillow. Agitated at herself, at her clothe, at the unfathomable uncontrollability to the entirety of her life, Clarke growled to herself as she tugged off her bra, tossing it to the side and gracelessly pulling on the shirt Lexa offered. 

“I don’t feel better at all.” 

It was certainly a pout, and Lexa did her best to ignore it. Instead, she slicked off the light beside the bed, and slid between the sheets next to Clarke. Lexa laid there until Clarke turned to face her, until she placed her hand on her neck and cheek. 

“I’m sorry you had to pick me up.” 

“It’s okay,” Lexa whispered. 

“It’s not. I’m not like this… I don’t mean to be… I mean--”

“It’s okay.” 

Clarke leaned forward, shifting beneath the blankets until their knees were touching. She moved to only push the hair from Lexa’s forehead and she paused before kissing her lips. She tasted the warmth of the tequila there and she didn’t care. Lexa signed. 

“Please don’t give up on me anytime soon,” Clarke murmured. Stunned from the kiss, Lexa blinked in the dark and shifted closer. 

“I wouldn’t ever.” 

“I know you wouldn’t. I just had to say it out loud.” 

“Okay.” 

Lexa was certain she was going to get another kiss, but instead, Clarke dug her forehead under her girlfriend’s chin and pressed their bodies together, hugging her tightly and disappearing, being overwhelmed, anchoring herself to a steady force. Lexa rubbed Clarke’s back for a few moments until she fell asleep, and then she allowed herself the option of sleep.

NEXT