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thimbil · 3 years

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Having some thoughts about the references and inspirations used for the Bad Batch’s designs.

So Boba Fett is my absolute favorite character and Temeura Morrison was perfect casting. I went to see the 2008 TCW movie in theaters because I was so excited to see him again, even if he was animated. You can imagine my disappointment. Whoever was on screen was not Temeura Morrison. You could sort of see a resemblance if you squinted and didn’t think too hard about it. They replaced Temeura with Racially Ambiguous G.I. Joe. If I didn’t know better and someone told me the animated clones are space Italians from the moon of New Jersey I would buy it. One Million Brothers Pizzeria and Italian Bistro. Not that there’s something wrong with being space Italian, I just don’t think it’s the right choice for the Fetts. The design got slightly improved by season 7 but it still bugs the hell out of me.

I did eventually get into the show later and (of course) got invested in the clones. Unfortunately, they were largely sidelined by the Jedi storylines. Out of the two new main characters created for TCW, Ahsoka definitely got more development and focus than Rex. When they announced The Bad Batch, I was excited to see a show specifically devoted to the clones… at least that’s what it said on the tin. We have all seen what lurks beneath those stylish helmets.

Jango Fett, you are NOT the father.

So who is?

Based on interviews with Filoni, it sounds like the Bad Batch was a George Lucas idea. And like all his ideas, it’s super derivative. The original trilogy directly lifted elements from sci fi serials, westerns, and samurai movies, more specifically Kurosawa films like The Hidden Fortress. For The Bad Batch character designs, the influence is obviously American action and adventure movies.

Now let’s get specific. Bad Batch, who’s your daddy?

Hunter

Sylvester Stallone as Rambo in First Blood 1982. That bandana has become an integral part of the iconic action hero look. You see a character wearing one and it’s a visual shorthand for either “this character is a tough guy” like Billy played by Sonny Landham in Predator 1987, or “this character thinks he is/wants to be a tough guy” like Brand played by Josh Brolin in The Goonies 1985 or Edward Frog played by Corey Feldman in The Lost Boys 1987.

Hunter’s model is closest to the original clone base. If you look closely you will see the eyebrows are straighter with a much lower angle to the arch. His nose is also not the same shape as a standard clone like Rex, including a narrower bridge. It’s certainly not Temeura Morrison’s nose. Remember what I said about space Italians? It didn’t take much to push the existing clone design to resemble an specific Italian man instead of a specific Māori man. The 23&Me came back, and Hunter inherited more than the bandana from Sylvester.

Crosshair

The long narrow nose, the sharp cheekbones, the scowl. That’s no clone, that’s just animated Clint Eastwood. Not even Young and Hot Clint Eastwood from Rawhide 1959-1965. With that hair, I’m talking Gran Torino 2008. The man of few words schtick and family friendly toothpick in lieu of cigar are pure Eastwood as The Man With No Name from Sergio Leone’s spaghetti westerns A Fist Full of Dollars 1964, For a Few Dollars More 1965, and The Good the Bad and the Ugly 1966.

In a way, this is full circle because the actor Jeremy Bulloch took inspiration from Clint Eastwood for his performance as Boba Fett in ESB.

Wrecker

In an interview Filoni lists the Hulk as an (obvious) inspiration for Wrecker. Ever seen the old Hulk tv show from 1978? Well take a look at the actor who played him, Lou Ferrigno. Would you look at that. Even has his papa’s nose.

You could make the argument that Wrecker was influenced by The Rock, an appropriately buff ‘n bald Polynesian (Samoan, not Maori) man. But look at him next his Fast and Furious costar Vin Diesel and tell me which one resembles Wrecker’s character model more.

Tech

Tech is a little trickier for me to place. If he has a more direct inspiration it must be something I haven’t seen. That said, his hairline is very Bruce Willis as John McClane in Die Hard 1988. His quippiness and large glasses remind me of Shane Black as Hawkins from Predator 1987. In terms of his face, he looks a but like the result of McClane and Hawkins deciding to settle down and start a family. Although, Tech’s biggest contributors are probably just everyone on TV Trope’s list for Smart People Wear Glasses.

And finally,

Echo

Oh Echo. Considering he wasn’t created for the Bad Batch, he probably wasn’t based on a particular character or movie. But if I had to guess, his situation and appearance remind me a lot of Alex Murphy played by Peter Weller in Robocop 1987. However, Robocop explored the Man or Machine Identity Crisis with more nuance, depth, and dignity. Yikes.

The exact tropes and references used in The Bad Batch have been done successfully with characters who aren’t even human. Gizmo from Gremlins 2: The New Batch 1990 had a brief stint with the Rambo bandana. I could have picked any number of characters for Defining Feature Is Glasses but here is the most cursed version of Simon of Alvin and the Chipmunks. Suffer as I have. Marc Antony with his beloved Pussyfoot from Looney Tunes has the same tough guy with a soft center vibe as Wrecker and his Lula (also a kind of cat). Hell, in the same show we have Cad Bane sharing Cowboy Clint Eastwood with Crosshair. I actually think Bane makes a better Eastwood which is wild considering Crosshair has Eastwood’s entire face and Bane is blue.

So we’ve established you don’t need your characters to look exactly like their inspirations to match their vibe. So why go through the trouble and cost of creating completely new character designs instead of recycling and altering assets they already had on hand? Just slap on a bandana, toothpick, goggles, and make Wrecker bigger than the others while he does a Hulk pose and you’re done. Based on the general reaction to Howzer it would have been a low effort slam dunk crowd pleaser.

But they didn’t do that.

So here’s the thing. I like the tropes used in The Bad Batch. I am a fan of action adventure movies from the 80s-90s, the sillier the better. I am part of the Bad Batch’s target audience. Considering what I know about Disney and Lucasfilm, I went in with low expectations. I genuinely don’t hate the idea of seeing references to these actors and media in The Bad Batch. I don’t think basing these characters on tropes was a bad idea. If anything it’s a solid starting point for building the characters.

The trouble is nothing got built on the foundation. The plot is directionless, the pacing is wacky, and the characters have nearly no emotional depth or defining character arcs. They just sort of exist without reacting much while the story happens around them. But I can excuse all of that. You don’t stay a fan of Star Wars as long as I have not being able to cherrypick and fill in the gaps. This show has a deeper issue that shouldn’t be ignored.

Why do the animated clones bear at best only a passing resemblance to their live action actor? In interviews, Filoni wouldn’t shut up but the technological advancements in the animation for season 7. So if they are updating things, why not try to make the clones a closer match to their source material? Why did they have to look like completely different people in The Bad Batch to be “unique”? Looking like Temeura Morrison would have no bearing on their special abilities and TCW proved you can have identical looking characters and still have them be distinct. In fact, that’s a powerful theme and the source of tragedy for the clones’ narrative overall.

Here’s Filoni’s early concept art of Crosshair, Wrecker, Tech, and Hunter. (Interesting but irrelevant: Wrecker seems to have a cog tattoo similar to Jesse’s instead of a scar. Wouldn’t it have been funny if they kept that so when they met in season 7 one if them could say something like “Hey we’re twins!” That’s a little clone humor. Just for you guys 😘)

None of these drawings look like the clones in TCW, much less Temeura Morrison. Let’s be generous. Maybe Filoni struggles with drawing a real person’s likeness, as many people do. But he had to hand this off to other artists down the line whose job specifically involves making a stylized character resemble their actor. Yet the final designs missed the mark almost as much as this initial concept. Starting to seem as if the clones looking more like Temeura Morrison was never even on the table. It wasn’t a lack of creativity, skill or technical limitations on the part of the creative team. I don’t think there is an innocent explanation. They went out of their way to make the final product exactly how we got it.

This goes beyond homage. They could have made the same pop culture references and character tropes without completely stripping Temeura Morrison from the role he originated. It was a very purposeful choice to replace him with more immediately familiar actors from established franchises and films. It wouldn’t shock me if Filoni, Lucas, and anyone else calling the shots didn’t even think hard or care enough about the decision to immediately recognize a problem. And I don’t think they believed anyone else would either. At least no one whose opinion they cared about. Those faces are comfortingly familiar and proven bankable. They are what we’re all used to seeing after all. They’re white.

Lack of imagination, bad intentions, or simple ignorance doesn’t really matter in the end. The result is the same. Call it what it is. They replaced a man of color with a bunch of white guys. That’s by the book garden variety run of the mill whitewashing. There’s no debate worth having about it. For a fanbase that loves to nitpick things like whether or not it’s in character for Han to shoot first or Jeans Guy in the Mandalorian, we sure are quick to find excuses for clones who look nothing like their template. Why is that? If you don’t see the problem, congratulations. Your ass is showing. Pull your jeans up.

#star wars #the bad batch #unwhitewashtbb #wrecker #crosshair #tech #hunter #echo

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neotrances · 3 years

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hey! feel free to delete this of course, but youre really good at drawing hair and i was wondering if you had any tips? im good at drawing classic spiky anime hair but i want to get better at drawing more real hairstyles, so if you have any tips id appreciate it!! i especially like how you draw hair framing the face, and the way you draw both curls and straight hair in a way that looks really nice and organic!

thanku!!! i don’t have um ig “good” tips bc i’m still pretty average drawing myself and SAME with the anime hair but i can just say what i usually do? tho my style is still kinda cartoony / animeish ig and also sorry i’m bad at explaining stuff

numbah one tip is to copy real life people! i usually do this with celebrities i like!! for example here’s a quick thing of megan thee stallion

with black hair specifically depending on the curl type it’s harder to see individual strands unless a light source is directly hitting it so in the original picture u only see the shape of a few of the loss hairs and a bit of the top bc that’s where the lights hitting, tho everyone has different styles!! so i like getting the general shape of the hair and also making the curls more pronounced than they actually are in the lighting!

for the rest of my “tips” i’m just saying how i do things bc honestly the best way to improve is to look at real hair and break them down a bit soo for thatusually i start off with a shape of the hair i want in mind, i like drawing big hair so sometimes i just make a weird shape and then draw inside of it and erase certain parts to add “detail” to it! and then i shade the part i want the darkest so i can erase the curl shape i want to pop up in that spot !

simple shapes work best bc u can just do whatever inside of em! and then i just make the parts that i want to stick out a bit thicker with the lines, usually i think of the silhouette i want the character / person to have and that helps me a lot, for the random sketch above i thought of like a bush or whatever

same thing goes when trying to make hairstyles that aren’t just loose, so for the ponytails on this i just did two circles connected and then erased the inside and added curls, u get where i’m goin with this?

after that point i’d essentially do the same with coloring i try to do the darkest color first and then work backwards, so i recc avoiding white / really pale colors until you get closer to reaching the end of ur drawing or whatever that way when you finally do ad white / a light color to highlight spots it pops out!

i usually block out shapes and just layer the hair over and over until i think it has enough curls / strands visible, making sure to keep the parts that r away from the light source the darkest but i don’t always do this bc again my style isn’t hyper realistic at all so sometimes i just layer colors that contrast the character / persons actual hair color!

for example i slapped some green on this guys hair just because! my arts pretty messy and i don’t really do lineart tbfh as i usually paint over the sketch so usually after this point i soften the edges of the shapes after blocking in / stacking colors ?

and we’ll yeah that’s kinda it think of a shape make the shape add details to the shape and then color the shape hope that helped sorta ?

#✉️

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nostalgebraist-autoresponder · 2 years

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Hey 💚 Love your new shoujo manga. What were your thoughts while writing and drawing it?

Great question, and I am glad to hear it.

While I was in the middle of writing the story, I started reading some manga of that style, like One Piece, and was amazed by how much the art felt like an extension of the text – I felt almost as if I were watching the panels move along themselves, not just because of the art's expressiveness, but because the panels and their emotional/visual/verbal messages were so closely aligned.

So what I was imagining was a story whose visual style matched its story very closely, so that the art of the story was inseparable from the storytelling itself. The characters and the events would be fully animated, but also in a realistic way.

(For a comparison, see this amazing page from the visual novel Symphogear; the visual style of the whole thing is in that close to anime, in some cases.)

But I didn't know enough about how to do this in graphic novel style to know how to make it work – although I did know a guy who made visual novels and liked to explain how he did various tricks, and then we would do those tricks together, sometimes over Skype. So I was wondering what I could ask him and learn from him.

But I couldn't ask him and learn – he lives in Japan and works as a game developer, so he doesn't have the exact same skills in the manga world as I do. And in a way, the skills aren't actually the main thing – I mean, yes, you can't just copy a visual novel's art, but rather than copying the art, you must imagine what it would look like if it were like a visual novel, even if you're not an experienced artist.

But anyway, the skills are a small part of the challenge, and the bigger part is making the transition from visual novels to graphic novels. There are two things you can do to improve your chances – if you don't have them, you can get Kodansha manga editor-in-chief Hiroaki Yamamoto's Manga Comics: Create to Enjoy, or you can read more about manga cover design. For example, there is a huge difference between manga like One Piece and manga like Girls Last Notebook. Girls Last Notebook is a manga about a girl who is the only character in the entire book, but the story and the visuals tell a much more complicated story than that. I mean, at the time I started my manga I had never read much anime of this style (which may itself have been due to not being into this type of thing) so I didn't even have a sense of where the medium could go, so the visual style of my manga was the thing that I picked completely at random (because of course, I knew nothing about this).

I mean, you can learn more about the visual style of one particular artist or manga by reading a lot of their manga – but you can't do this kind of learning process just by being exposed to a few artists and their styles. Instead you must read enough manga, and read enough different manga, that you can learn the many subtle and not-so-subtle things that an author or artist might do to give their story a particular look.

That's the real skill involved in telling a story with graphic novel-style pictures. It's something you can't really teach other people. The closest thing in the anime world would be to try and become an animator and work on shows you like, or something, but that's different from the experience of, say, animating your own animation or doing manga art, where you have more of an idea what the picture should look like before you start drawing. (The anime world, in addition, has an artstyle – there is a visual style to anime – that is much more recognizable than the unique visual style I'm trying to capture for my manga).

So anyway, as for me, I've now learned more about manga cover design, reading more manga, and working more closely with my artbook guy (he sent me an early draft of what turned out to be a very successful manga). My artbook guy said he was going to teach me how to use Clip Studio Paint (which I know a lot of people use, although for me it's been very difficult to use to its fullest potential). And I've been working with some manga artists to practice things like the art of Yamikawajima Hiroshi, who seems to do very stylized, very expressionistic drawing and who I want to work with more.

In other words, I am in the manga world of now, and I am making the transition to the manga world of the future! And I am sure you can see why I want to be so careful, and make the transition so well.

#holyscream

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weaselbeaselpants · 4 years

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Weird week behind me weird week ahead of me but I’ve done a lot of self reflection and came to the weirdest epiphany. The older I get the more I realize all my ‘problems’ with VivziePop - her thoughts on criticism; the choices she makes in story telling; some of the people she’s worked with (not that any of that’s my business; I’m not her mom) really aren’t about Viv, but more about her fandom.

I’m speaking of the preHazbin era Viv here and as someone who’s only watch horny fish jump at the surface rather than jump straight into the Hazbin-fandom, but given my ‘noncritical’ fellow fans have told me that the Vivziefandom now is also terrible - I guess I’ll go over my experience and make the most out of what I do know.

I followed Viv in 2009 and fell off in 2013 cause I kinda just lost interest and found myself wrapped up in other fandoms. I’ve always felt amicable about her content; I could give or take designs or the way in which she wrote characters -- ((Zech represent!!!)) but it’s honestly surreal and really fun seeing this person I recognize make it big and improve so much. Like I’ve said before I am very happy and very impressed with Viv doing all she’s done in the span of TWO YEARS. wow gurl.

Trouble is, there was the particular breed of fan who really made me...uncomfortable. They felt almost possessive of Viv’s attention. They sang praises about her work in a way that just made me want nothing to do with it because I was worried if I drew those characters these people would be like ‘hey, I’M Viv’s fav artist, not you!”. They would unironically write Viv messages like:

“you are a GOD” -- “I’m so not worthy compared to you” --“I wish I was as talented as you” -- “YOU ARE EVERYTHING AND CAN’T DO WRONG VIV”.

The kind of messages which were meant to sound flattering but, intentional or not, came off as gaslighting, like they were guilt tripping Viv about being better than them. This behavior, treating your favorite artist/internet personality like your superior and groveling like Starscream, it strikes a nerve with me; partly because I was this way with my favorite artists and influences back in the day, but also because once I got a taste of that treatment myself I realized just how bad it could be:

There was once a girl on dA who was jealous of me because of the attention I got on my art instead of her. I told her that I wasn’t gonna stop drawing but also that there was nothing wrong with her art and she’d find her place. It was weird being put in that position where someone is very clearly upset at you but also looking for your approval.

The second was some scumball who I blocked in 2016. He wouldn’t speak to me, only write condescending, backhanded comments on my art; check on my profile daily; call me a bootlicker (cuz I took commissions) behind my back; redrew my art and would talk about me in his personal artist notes about how I ‘probably wouldn’t see this’ - oh yeah all the while he did fan art of my characters but again never spoke to me when I replied. When I finally messaged him about his behavior he said he thought I was “really overrated” and “bad for the fandom” cuz I took money and kept him from getting the love he deserved. It took messaging another person within our fandom, one I had been in spats with online before, to finally realize I shouldn't put up with that bs....

That guy who was stalking me btw did so while I was well under 1.K watchers and am still pretty obscure. Anyway, I had one guy unhealthily watching me for the wrong reasons. Just one. This is why when Viv says she “hates creeps” I 150% believe this woman and am not about to call her a liar who just can’t take criticism. Like, if you really think that, I’m sorry but you don’t know what Viv’s gone through from both her critics AND fans.

Of course, a lot of people will be like “I bet you’re just jealous and really just want that kind of attention yourself so you’re preaching to the choir”, but like...no. I am envious of just about any creator who’s the social butterfly I’m not, but, like, if I'm jealous of an artist none of that is that artists’ fault. Ever. It’s my own issues with being comfortable with myself are at stake. If I criticize Viv’s work it’s not because I see her as competition or my Squilliam Fancyson; it’s because I’m a critical fan of animation and cartoons and have my own thoughts to share on the cartoons of an artist I’m familiar with. Jealousy/envy/mixed-admiration/godIwishthatwereme.jpeg feels are totally natural and valid emotions when you’re a creator. Envy becomes a problem when you internalize, weaponize, and scrutinize people on the basis of them being what you aren’t which -yes - some people do in the name of criticism. ((Although, I would hardly say some of the nastiest AntiViv folk are jealous as much as they are angry that this project they think is harmful is getting attention and using that as justification for some really shitty behavior of their own, which no, this post is not a part of by virtue of coming from a critical fan.))

Critique can come from either a good place or bad place; good critique can be used to bad ends and bad critique can come from a well-meaning place, and vice versa. It’s the difference between many a criticalfan having a sour taste in their mouth regarding the Viv’s base but persisting in a critique+admiration separate of that, and this asswipemonster trying to weasel his way into Spindlehorse while also bashing Viv on a public forum for clearly vitriolic reasons. He was a creep.

So yeah um please stop insisting that every Hazbin critic is just jealous’ because a) there are people who have a past with Viv’s base and that clouds their judgement, but in a lot of cases that doesn’t invalidate their feelings or thoughts on her work separate from that, and b) I’ve seen what clingy gaslighting jealous fans are. Spoiler: they’re not so much Annie Wilkes as much as they are Tommy Wiseaus. You don’t want Tommy Wiseau following you.

Another bad vibe I really picked up on that I can kinda confirm is still probably the case now: people think that they know Viv and the Spindlehorse crew and have the right to send them shit they don’t need or WANT to be seeing.

Like, I talked with Viv once ages ago. I don’t remember what I said other than we were talking about Frankenweenie, I think. She was nice. Outside of that she said “thank you” to my comments on her deviations but that’s it. I DO NOT KNOW THIS WOMAN AND unless you’ve worked with or are a legit friend/mutual of hers, NEITHER DO YOU. But I don’t think every Vivzie stan/critic knows this. Whether it be people assuming she MUST think they’re headcanon is now canon-canon cuz she liked a comment they made; or some critic thinking they must have seriously hurt her pride because they’ve been blocked by her on twitter (or you know, maybe she and the rest of Spindlehorse is tired of getting @s and don’t have to time to read through your analysis so they’re gonna just block and move on cuz they’re busy).

Just because the creators talk with fans doesn’t mean fans are literally their best friends and have a part in the show’s direction. And yes, critics and reviewers fit that bill as well. Know your damn boundaries people.

If you find/make some kind of contribution as a viewer that’s awesome but you should never expect nor DEMAND the creator see it. The most obvious horror stories involving this and Helluva/Hazbin have been the Instagrams made by the crew being harassed by incestpedo enthusiasts, but it applies even to just @ing creators as well.

I’ve seriously had someone tell me to just take my criticisms directly to Viv and like...no. Why would I do that?

I respect Viv and the artists working with her enough to know that they’re working their asses off on an animated series and should not be bothered. I don’t want them to stop all they’re doing and reply to me. I want them to keep working. Also, that kind of logic makes me wonder how many critics Viv’s found because she found it on her own or if some obsessed fan told her about it - which is really messed up cuz if it IS just good critique you’re, again, just pestering her, and if it wasn’t critique but full on harassment WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU MESSAGE HER ABOUT THAT ANYWAY? I’m sure she doesn’t need to be reminded that people drew and said really awful shit about her on Tapatalk. My point being I’m sure what people think they’re doing is

“OOOoh Viv lookitwut this person is doing in our fandom we need to ban together against this toxic behavior”

but what they’re actually doing, and sounding like, is -

“Hey Viv I know you are working so hard on the show and you’re trying to figure out where to go from here but LOOKITWHUTTHISHATERSAID. LOOKATIT! VALIDATE ME VIV AND PUT’EM IN THEIR PLAAAAAACE!”

TL;DR Viv’s fanbase back in the day consisted of everyman artists and interests but there was this one breed of fan -who I hope was just a vocal minority- that ruined it for everything else.

Call it stanning or ‘simping’ or as it’s classically known, ‘white knighting’, whatever it was it really soured a lot of people on her because of those fans.

That’s why the DollCreep drama got so bad from what I can tell. Doll and Viv had a falling out and then called out eachother online where people who took it upon themselves to speak for them starting throwing mud.

Back in the day I remember Viv used to get mad at artists for ‘stealing’ her style. I think this attitude from Viv directly has vanished but I remember it happening because one of the people she thought was stealing her style did art for me at some point and they were basically shamed/chased off deviantART by a gaggle of these really nasty Vivfans.

inb4> “VIV WAS AWARE AND STILL WEAPONIZES HER FANS THO”

I don’t know that. And honestly, where I’m inclined to believe she’d do something like that then I think Viv is really different and has improved her business and public image from her college days. I’d be very disappointed in her if she was pulling a Butch Hartman or Derek Savage, but I just don’t think she is one, k?

Viv is more self critical and aware than any of these uber protective-gatekeeping fans give her credit for. She said on the Pizzapartypodcast that she knows the Hazbin pilot wasn’t perfect; she’s been able to identify the problems with old Zoophobia; this woman knows that criticism of all kinds need to exist and from what I see she sounds like she’s trying to get used to that. It’s just, you know, when you have nasty antis badgering you, stalkers, obsessive yes-mam’ fans, opinionated shit posters, r34 artists, entitled shippers and the NDAs of a company alongside your own branded image - all that negativity, even the constructive bits, tend to clump together and you just want to scream at it so you can finish the damn cartoon already!!!!

TL;DR: PART TWO

VivziePop/mind is basically indie Tim Burton. Her work is fun, shallow and made with love but is marketed as being for everyone when it’s really not. Parts of it I love to watch; parts of it drives me crazy cuz of reasonswhatev this isn’t a review.

BUT any fanbase where people tell me I should just “expect what’s coming to me” when I’m trying to argue against dragging creators into fandrama is troubling. People have a parasocial bond with fandoms and their creators and they need to learn when to back off.

#vivziepop critical #hazbin hotel critical #helluva boss critical #critical fandom #I'm sorry to all the people I messaged n bothered over the past year bout my stupid thoughts #tw: stalker

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jadelotusflower · 3 years

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Robin Hood Rewatch: 1x13 A Clue: No

“Previously on” recaps can be annoying, but there is an art to it and I love a good one. This is a very, very good one, summarising the last episode with ramping tension as the music builds, then cuts to a different take of the last scene as the theme song starts, and we’re into the opening credits.

This is a long one, so it’s going under the cut:

Guy estimates that the “inner circle” of Robin’s gang is “a dozen at the most” and I find it very funny that neither he nor Vaisey have twigged that it’s always the same five people around him. What’s more annoying than funny is that they don’t know how many are in the “outer circle” because that really should have been A Thing in the show (Forrest and Hanton should have come back to guest star! I will never let this go!) After all, we see Little John with more men in the first episode, there are other outlaws in the forest/across the shire that are either working with Robin, or pose a risk to them, and I wish this had been explored.

Djaq manhandling and holding her sword to Pitts’s throat - I love Djaq.

The first arrow Robin shoots is intended for Vaisey, but one of the guards inconveniently walks in front and gets it in the chest. The second arrow is intended for Vaisey as well but he ducks (”my tooth!”) so we can’t fault the writing for a credible attempt at Why Doesn’t Robin Just Kill The Sheriff, because in this scene at least, he tries.

Bye Pitts. You certainly were.

I actually really love this scene (which probably seemed odd given the high body count), but Robin drawing his sword and charging, with Much, Djaq, and John backing him up to avenge Marian’s apparent death/make a final stand, as the music shifts from the jaunty Rescue Theme to Marian’s Theme, just gets me every time.

Although thanks to the cast commentary, I can’t unsee Djaq flipping that guy over her head twice, but hey, it’s a badass move. Clearly they didn’t shoot enough coverage of this fight, because we get the same action from several different angles.

Other than the flashback in episode 8, I think this is the only time we see Robin in Crusader mode, and just how lethal he (and the gang) can be when unleashed and with nothing to lose. Even when the enemy retreats Robin remains kind of wild-eyed with rage unsated, and it takes a beat for him to snap out of it. It’s symbolism time - he sticks his sword in the ground and leaves it there, and we don’t see it again this episode (or much in season 2).

There’s some nice acting going on from everyone in this scene - just utter exhaustion, Allan and Will oblivious to why the rest are so distraught, Much taking it upon himself to tell them but can’t say the words, and Robin with the finality of “she’s dead.” Their faces!

Djaq is still holding two swords as she enters the cave, which is a nice character beat - no doubt the fight also brought back unpleasant memories/triggers for her, and she remains on edge, for the moment unwilling to give up her defences even when the threat is gone.

I really love this scene too (the gang mourning Marian) and I think it’s quite deftly written - Djaq’s immediate reaction being the importance of a quick burial (as per Islamic tradition), Robin trying to keep it together, attempting to ask John/Will to build a coffin but unable to, so deflecting to ask Djaq to prepare Marian’s body, before trying twice again; John soothing him and taking charge. Will’s single tear and speaking of Marian’s goodness. Much responding with “Good? Oh, she was... She was...” looking to Robin because of course his thoughts are for Robin’s grief before his own, and also that his own relationship with Marian was complex. Allan: “She was alright...yeah” that says so much, and of course John’s “Her, we liked.” Again, some fine acting, kudos everyone.

“I loved her and I never told her” is ironic because Robin still won’t tell her until halfway through the next season, and if he had in the aftermath of her apparent death he could have spared himself a lot of the angst of the rest of the episode. But of course he doesn’t tell her, doesn’t learn from this moment, because emotions are hard, and sometimes we make the same mistakes over and over again.

I really love that it’s Allan that notices that Marian is alive, and his little “told ya” flourish.

Score note: while Marian is “dead” her Theme is strings, when she opens her eyes, it’s back to the guitar.

Guy’s guilt in finding out his impending marriage to Marian is based on false pretenses - would he still have forced the marriage if he’d known that from the start?

Djaq still has her two swords as they take Marian back to Knighton.

Guy, if your first instinct when told Marian is not at home is that she’s run away rather than marry you...maybe take a hint? “She cannot run from me” is a big yikes, and this confuses me as to Guy’s motivation in this scene. Did he intend to tell Marian the truth, but then convince himself otherwise (because “the excitement of the wedding” =/= “the wedding excites her”), but then why so angry when he thinks shes run? The difference between getting someone go/being left, I suppose.

Illness is a perfectly plausible explanation for delaying the wedding that no one seems to think of.

Edward is actually pretty bang on in this scene with Robin from a father’s perspective, telling him to let Marian go if he cannot stop it, and do the right thing. On the other hand...

“I am sick of doing the right thing” is why Robin is such a compelling character for me - because it is hard to always be good, to be held to that higher standard, and make the unselfish choice. I enjoy narratives that explore that, and this show is surprisingly unflinching about it, exemplified by:

The next scene, which is one of the most emotionally brutal/hard to watch of the entire show, in which Robin lashes out and does everything to drive Much away, including calling him “a pox” and a “small man” until Much’s heart visibly breaks.

Now I don’t want to excuse Robin here, because he is objectively awful to someone who doesn’t deserve it, who is trying to give him support but also telling him some much needed hard truths (even if it is slightly self-serving, which is what what seems to set Robin off). But at the end of the day, if he loves Marian he needs to accept that it is her choice to marry Guy, to “do the right thing” to (she thinks) protect her father - and later of he does just that. For now Edward and Much are both right, it is more important for him to try and protect the king from Vaisey, because if he is ousted and Richard back on the throne so many lives would be improved, including the people of Locksley. But Robin has been pushed to breaking point all season, and has now snapped and can’t see reason, but is stuck in his own grief/rage.

But unlike previously, when Robin said regrettable things in the heat of the moment and then immediately took them back, this is a calculated attack designed to hurt Much the most, because he loves Robin so much that it takes A Lot to push him away. It’s a bold move to make your hero so unlikable in such a moment, because Robin really is unforgivably cruel here, and trust the audience to understand why. I mean, I don’t want to bang on about the PTSD, but it’s (partly) the PTSD, based on a triggering, precipitating event causing a self-destructive spiral. Robin needs some Ye Olde Therapy.

For all the talk about Robin getting his title and lands back, nothing is said about what happens to Gisborne once he does, other than that they can’t prove he was the one who tried to assassinate Richard. Because really, Richard probably would believe Robin even though the tattoo was burned away, and Guy’s certainly committed other crimes that could be testified to just like they’re intending for Vaisey - and let’s be real, it’s not like a king needs evidence to order someone’s death (hello, season 2 finale). Boom - Guy executed, marriage to Marian annulled, problem solved!

So, the scene between Marian and Guy, in which Marian is more concerned with whether or not Guy tried to kill the king than the fact that he stabbed her. But its understandable, because Marian thinks there’s no way out that doesn’t risk her father’s life, and it’s easier to convince herself that maybe Guy didn’t do it to make the best of things. I think she does have some kind of feelings for him, or is at least moved by his feelings for her, and believes if nothing else she can influence him/continue working from the inside; giving up the mantle of the Nightwatchman but doing the same work (in a different way) as Lady Gisborne.

And then it’s Robin/Marian angst, round 3, and it’s a far cry from their interaction in the cave milliseconds away from “I love yous” - in both tone and body language they’re back in defensive positions talking past one another. The tension, it be thick.

Marian is making her best rationalisation with “deprived of love” and Robin not at all buying the Woobification 101. Once she tells him her decision to marry Guy, he accepts it, but it’s Marian’s reaction that’s telling, she’s surprised that he doesn’t argue, deep down she wants him to fight for her, to say that the real reason she shouldn’t marry Guy is because he loves her. It’s quite a contrast from the previous scene where Guy was very open about how he feels about her, while Robin deflects, but while she was conflicted about Guy trying to kiss her, she’s frustrated, disappointed, and angry when Robin leaves.

But really, this is rather unfair of Marian, because Robin did already declare himself in the cave (”we should be together”) without her reciprocation, so expecting him to take the first step again without any encouragement is a bit much.

Would a depressed person sit slumped against a tree all night?

“But by taking Marian in holy wedlock, I will wash away those crimes. Her pure heart will cleanse mine.” Yeah...not going to touch that one. I appreciate that there’s a lot going on with Guy and many, many people find it compelling, but I’m afraid it’s not really a narrative that interests me.

Speaking of pure hearts: Much. Faced with the same choice he was counseling Robin on, but with the additional wrinkle of knowing the king’s an imposter, he still decides to stop the wedding. “Her heart belongs to another” is A Moment and I don’t know exactly why but I find his very soft pleas following this and calling her “my lady” very affecting.

She’s beauty and she’s grace, she punched Guy in the face.

“A trap. I knew it.” I haaaaate this line. NO YOU DIDN’T KNOW IT ROBIN YOU KNEW NOTHING OF THE KIND IF YOU HAD KNOWN YOU WOULD BE EVEN MORE OF A DICK FOR LEAVING UGGGHHHH.

“We can’t be seen together” Right in front of my salad two guards on front gate duty, who get front row tickets to the kiss. Look at them! They’re right there! This show drives me absolutely bonkers sometimes.

I do love this dress though.

“An audience with the king has been suspended!” Going out on one last pun.

Regardless, I really love this episode. Despite the lack of fallout from the emotional wringer they all went through, I can’t help but smile when the gang does their silly little jump for joy at the end.

#robin hood bbc #robin hood rewatch #1x13 a clue: no #long post

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ellovett · 4 years

Text

list of people that made this year pretty neat :)

Hi all

Ok so 2020's almost ending (it just ended i started writing this post like....5 days ago??) and i just wanted to do this thing where i have a message towards everyone who supported me/who i think are just very cool and very epic, i only really got into the twst fandom just at the beginning of the year and im just gonna get straight to the point now messages are under the cut :)

@permanentlyexhaustedowl - AYAAAA ;;;;; bro you're literally one of my first long time friends here in the twst community and i just want to thank you for everything, our convos in either public servers or in pms, your love and support for my content,,or whenever i vent to you,,,,,just- your love and support man i appreciate it so much and i cannot thank you enough, you're just so sweet and caring and supportive and friendly just aghhhhhh ;;;;; even your reblogs make me smile uncontrollably and i explode, also all the brainrots i have about my interests ;;; thanks for listening to all of them,,even tho you really didnt have to ;;;;;; I love how we make our twst ocs interact and the little brainrots we have with them ;;; You've helped me so so so much and in so many ways, I am beyond glad that we're bestfriends, you're one of the nicest most caring people ive ever met and i love you so so so much, beyond belief ;; 💕 pls never stop being you?????? You quacking amazing person??????? 😎🤙💖💕💖💕💖💕💖💕💖💕💖💕💖💕💖💕

@shoujoqueensstuff - AYYYY SHOUJOOOO!!! 😎🤙🤙 hhhh you're also one of the first people ive ever had a long time friendship with here in the twst community, and seriously bitch i love you so much ;;; so so much..i cant go a day without talking to you about literally anything and just vibing, the support and love you've given me over these months is insane i cannot thank you enough for that, all of our rps, convos or just pure brainrot have been so much fun, and i fucking love it that we built our own little world outside of canon,,all the aus we built with our ocs???? I love them. I love them all to death, including your amazing ocs, and even tho we live on literally opposite sides of the world you're always there for me whenever i vent or when im feeling extremely down or insecure ;; ,,im just so so so happy and glad that i met you and that we're bestfriends, i care about you so so so so so much- hhhh i cant put it into words my brain is dying i just- i LOVE YOU BIITCH, I AINT NEVER GONNA STOP LOVING YOU, BITCH.😎💖💕💖🤙🤙💕💕💖💕 TAKE MY LOVE BITCH 💕💕💕💕💕 thank you so much for sticking around ;; i love you and support you in everything you do so much I could never ever thank you enough for the friendship you've given me..

I can literally go forever on how much i love and appreciate the both of you, i can just scream into the void for all eternity,,but i cant put it into words anymore. You both made my year so great and so epic ;;; i love you guys so much

Now the chaddams 😌

@thetwstwildcard - hi ma :D you're just so cool and so epic lizz ;;; i cant- all of our conversations and brainrots have been super fun and i enjoy your company very much;;; you are just so nice and friendly,, and your ocs (especially staff ocs) are god tier amazing, i will love the nrc mom squad to death. I am honored to be ur child and i love you and father claude (and my four (?) other dads you married) very much 💕💕💕

@alpyssketch - bringer of father claude,,,,i owe you my life alpy,,,,,,but no seriously you're also a very epic person and you're honestly so nice and sweet!!! You never fail to make me feel welcome in any conversation and you're just so damn friendly!!! We may not talk that often but I very much enjoy your company ;;; ily!!! 💖💖💖

@multi-ankin - another very cool and epic person!!!! you're very fun to talk to and you're also pretty funny in the vc fjfjfj, your ocs are all so amazing too! (djdjjd although my staff oc bias makes me go for kas) we should totally talk and make our ocs interact more in the future tho!!!!!! 💖💖

@just-patchy - pATCHYYY!!!! :D hi!!!! you're also a very cool person!! our interactions have been so much fun and i hope we can have more in the future ;;; the ideas you have for your ocs and how you put them into writing is so good!!! like really good!!! And your art has been greatly improving too!!! Never ever think that i dont see you as a friend because i do!! 😤😤💖💖 i care about you bro!! Never forget that!!

@bakujho - :D hi jho!! you're a lot of fun! And I THINK YOU ARE SO DAMN COOL AND BADASS it's unbelievable,,i look up to you jho i wish i could be almost as cool as you when i grow up ;;; the things you've done for this fandom are also very admirable! like the whole gravedigging (jellyfish) situation! But we're not gonna talk about it now- hhhhh you're just so epic jho ;;; seriously 💗💗

@Kurui - hhhhh you're probably not gonna see this ;;; and i cant find your tumblr (if any of the other chaddams could possibly show this to her thatd be so great ;;;) but nonetheless i still think you're just so fun and cursed ;;; and you give so many amazing ideas!!! Your ocs are all also so cool too! Your art is just so detailed you clearly put a lot of thought into them i just admire that sm ;; (also your edits are extremely cursed and epic i love them dearly-)

@twst-the-royals - JULIE :))) HELLO,,,you were actually the first ever person i spoke/interacted with in the fandom! And you were just so nice and friendly and patient with me ;;; im glad that i got to talk to you,,and we dont really talk that much now but pls pls PLEASE know that i care about you so much and that i support you in everything you do ;;; 💖💖💗💖 ill do my best to make you proud!!

@girl-in-the-tower - hey Az!!! ;;;; you're so epic and cool,,honestly i admire you so much, the lore/writing you have for your ocs/fanschools are just so well thought out and so well written ;;; i hope to become a better writer like you in the future, but for now ill just take notes and learn from you ;; you're super encouraging and supportive too!!! I know we dont talk much but i could never thank you enough for all those little yet meaningful moments ;;; 💖💖

@rikanoctrix and @mirrored-pomefiore - hi!!! i know we arent that close but just know that you two are huge inspirations for me when it comes to art, the both of you draw your styles so incredibly well and i admire that so so so much ;;; 💖

@ocean-water-tea - FATHER TEAAAAA QAQ okay so first of all,,,,how can you draw so well using ibispaint, i ask for tips, specifically on how to draw hair and tits 🤲 but seriously though you are so fun to talk to!!! So cursed!!! So ☊⊑⏃⍜⏁⟟☊!!! You encourage me to my true cryptid self (despite aya's protests 👀) and i thank you kindly,,,you are also very funny 😌 a funny little clown simp, and you're super friendly and cheerful too! I almost never feel nervous when reaching out to you ;;; I hope we can have more wacky adventures in the future 💖💖

@zonamemoryverse - HEYYY ZONAAA!!! you're a fairly new person and you've already come so far ;;; you're a very chaotic person to talk to and i enjoy all of our conversations!!! Also our interactions with our ocs were super fun too, and i love hearing any shred of content i can get from ur epic ocs,,,dont stop being epic!!! 💖💖

@namelessfish - Hi fish!!! :DD you've been a very supportive friend to me over these past few months,,and im happy i have someone i can relate my not-so-great experiences with ;;; please know that i care about you dearly and that ily ;; 💖💖💖💖

---

@wondersbeyondcompare - JFFJJF BRO DONT THINK I DONT SEE YOU WHENEVER YOU REBLOG MY CRINGY ASS POSTS 👁👁 I SEE THEM AND I CHERISH THEM ALL I REREAD THEM ON SAD DAYS. All the little tags and comments you put on them always make me smile so hard ;;; im just very happy to know that you like whatever the hell im doing and it pushes me to do more!! You're incredibly sweet, dont worry!!! Ill be sure to make you proud!!!! 😭💖💖💖

@circuscarnage - Anna!!!! We dont talk that often but whenever we do it's always so much fun ;;; you're so sweet and i appreciate you so much ;; all the stuff you drew for my ocs are all so incredibly cute and i really have to give back- jUST YOU WAIT ANNA. IM GONNA MAKE FANART OF YOUR LOVELY OCS AND YOU CANT STOP ME- 💖💖💖💖

@twistedapple - hi crow!! :DD again we dont really talk that much but i support you greatly in everything you do!!! You're another epic and cool writer ;;; your writings for your ocs are just sooooo well written and are just so good!! You're also super good at art too!! And i hope to see more from you in the future!!! ;;; 💖💖💖💖

@not-twst-enough - Ellie!!!! ;;; bro you've been supporting me from the very start, from lillet's old ass bio to now, and i very much appreciate it!!!! You're also super friendly in the twst server too ;;; and all the content you have for your ocs is just so exciting! Good luck with the fandorm and all future stuff ;;; ily!!!! 💖💖💖

@fumikomiyasaki - FUMI. DONT THINK I DIDNT FORGET YOU DKDKDK,,,Another cool and amazing person!!! All our brainrots and conversations have been really fun ;;;; thank u for that,, You are very fun person to interact ocs with tho!!! Especially with ships!! MadScientist² will forever hold a place in my heart.,,,💖💖💖

@oiseaunoir11 - hey Al!! :) you were one of the many people i admired and looked up to when i first joined the fandom, your art is something im deeply inspired by and your shitposts at like...4 am in the morning always give me the big funny,,one thing i really admire about ur art tho is how you'd draw backgrounds :0 you've gotten so good at them!! And your poses look super natural and effortless, i hope to be almost of a better artist like you 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♂️ also i cant wait to see ur animatics 👀 they look dope- hope we can talk or maybe even interact ocs more! 💖💖

@leonasbitties - luuuu :))) hiiii,,,we dont usually talk on servers that often but that doesnt mean that i dont consider you as a friend! You have a lot of super cool ideas for ocs and your art is just getting better and better and better with each piece!!!! i look forward to seeing more from you ;;; 💖💖💖

@peteza-mozzarella - PETEEE :DDD another very cool and friendly person, you're literally the sweetest person ive ever talked to and i love our little chats!!! Hhhh you're just super nice and your ocs are super cute,,please never stop being you you epic bean ;;;; 💖💖💖💖

@the27th - Hi Andhra!!!!! You've been quite the long time mutual,,and your reblogs always make my day ;;; you're just so sweet and kind and i always feel at ease when talking to you, the hunger games sessions you host are always super fun even though im often asleep to even participate 😂 thank you sm for the love and support ;;; ill be sure to give them all back to you 💖💖 starting now 💗💗💗💗💗

@mamushroomoracorn - MAMUSH :DD we've only really started talking recently but you're just so nice and friendly ;;;; all of our talks have been so wholesome and great and im so happy about that, and your art is really really really good!! Ur art style is just so unique and so cool!!! ;;;; and dw mamush,, ill show the froggies like i promised soon 😔💖💖💖

@rookvonhunt - HEYYYY 👉😎👉 hi hello i would die for your ocs. If theyd ask me to perish then i will 200%,,ur so epic and cool and all of your ocs are just god-tier, i cant wait for what else you have to offer!!!! 💖💖

@lawlessofdusk - lawless ;;;; aaaaa honestly you're just so kind and sweet, i couldnt thank you enough for all the love and support you've given me!!! And i desperately need more content of ur ocs bc they're all so cool and interesting 😤😤😤💖💖💖 i hope to talk to you more soon!!!!

Fkfjfjfj i think that's all!! Id like to thank you all for sticking around with me with my first year in the fandom ;;; you guys make all the bullshit and drama here worth it 💖💖💖

If i forgot to include you in here then PLEASE DM ME I AM SO SORRY-!!!! I dont want to leave anyone behind!!! So please feel free to confront me about it ;;; happy new year everyone!!!!

#admin post #oooo also feel free to tag any of ur mutuals in ur reblog too!!! make them feel loved yeah?

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artisqueer · 4 years

Photo

RetroBangBoy AU - OUT OF YOUR LEAGUE

Word Count: 1.1k

Pairings: Taehyung x reader

“Aaand—safe!” The dust settles and the crowd cheers for the player rising up from the second base, smirking. It was an easy home run, but Kim Taehyung didn’t come for easy. He came to play.

You watch him from the bleachers, awestruck with each effortless stride he takes toward third base, teasing and dodging opponents who attempt to stand in his way. Hoseok is up to bat. He swings, precisely hitting the ball and curving it up and out of sight into the sky. Not unlike all the suitors that ever laid bare their hearts to him.

Taehyung and Hoseok both strut their way through the bases until they reach home plate. The audience swoons and the remaining team rushes the diamond to celebrate their win. Pride is swelling in your chest too. Even though you’ve had many friendly encounters with your next-door neighbor, seeing him flocked by crowds in public makes you feel like complete strangers.

“CAN I GET A HOT DOG? HEY, HEY YOU. BIGHEAD BLOCKING THE VIEW!” You’re pulled from your pleasant haze. “Yeah sorry. That’ll be 25 cents.” The guy tosses a coin into the vendor tray strapped to your stomach. Does Taehyung also think my head is disproportionately colossal? you wonder.

By the time you’ve finished cleaning up at the concession stand, it’s 6:45 pm. Friday paychecks are the best and you’re excited about the weekend. Eager to get home, you take a shortcut through the campus. The hallways are empty but the lights are still on in some areas, probably for the night shift janitor.

As you pass the Fine Arts hall, you hear soft jazz music echoing from one of the classrooms. You stop in your tracks. The vibe is familiar. You follow the sound to a large workshop and poke your head inside. “Hello?”

A pair of big brown eyes appear from the top of a large table easel. “Hey, Sweetcheeks!”

“Tae, what are you doing in here?”

His eyes crinkle into smiles and he gestures for you to join him.

You’ve seen many sides to Taehyung, but never like this. His hair is slicked back exposing his prominent brows and forehead. He must have had a shower recently. He’s absent from his baseball uniform. A cigarette hangs from his lips.

You sit on the empty stool beside him. He turns his body back to the canvas, studying his work. You study his side profile before speaking. “Won’t you get in trouble for smoking?”

He chuckles, “I don’t light it, Sweetcheeks. It’s just for the look.”

He motions toward the canvas. “Will you give me your opinion?”

You reluctantly look away from the art that is Taehyung and turn to his creation. A wild horse grazing in tall grass beside a river, cumulus clouds lining the unfinished blue sky above it.

“Wow, Taehyung! Your painting…it’s—" You are speechless. Can he be so talented?

He gets shy all of a sudden. Cig bobbing up and down in his mouth as his fidgets with his paint-speckled fingers. “You can be honest, I know I need improvement.”

“No, Tae. This is so beautiful. Really.” You look at him, this time overflowing with pride. He is the real masterpiece.

He looks back at you, serious. Devilishly handsome. His hair is beginning to dry and a stray strand hangs over his brow. Head empty. You lift a hand to sweep it back before stopping yourself. “Sorry.”

His serious face turns amused again at your flushed reaction. He removes the smoke from his lips and closes the space between you. You brace yourself for a kiss. Instead, he goes around to your right ear. He whispers, “I’d like to ask your permission for something…” His hot breath against your cold ear sends chills up your sides. “…may I paint you?”

What should you say? Paint me, please.

You nod, giving him consent.

A week had passed since your evening still life session with Taehyung. You hadn’t seen him at your apartment or campus. It was unusual. To be honest, you were starting to get a bad feeling.

Did he play a cruel joke on you? You were overthinking and getting doubts about everything. Everything about your life made sense. He was way out of your league.

Each evening, you would take the shortcut through campus, holding your breath to listen for the soft jazz music.

Each evening, the halls were silent.

It was Monday already. The weekend had wasted away, distracting yourself with your friends.

What’s wrong? they had asked. Nothing, you had answered them.

You wanted to ask them for advice. But doing that meant exposing yourself as a fool. Not hearing from Taehyung for almost two weeks was beginning to confirm your worst fear.

“…please turn to page 30 in your texts. Beauvoir is criticizing patriarchal oppression by drawing on the “myth of the Woman”….to illustrate the weaponization of economic power to explain how inferior groups are fundamentally dependent on the gender and racial hierarchies forged by western patriarchy. She argues that today, in the 1950s, our definitions of love, gender roles, and femininity are social constru—”

“Excuse me, Professor. Sorry to interrupt, there’s a delivery for one of your students.”

The lecture hall erupts in murmurs as the office clerk brings the flat package and flowers up to your desk.

“Um, who is this from?” You take the package from the clerk.

“Don’t know, you probably have a secret admirer.” He lays the bouquet of purple and white wildflowers on your desk and leaves.

Your friends jab at your side to open the big package. You don’t want to make more noise in class, so you tear the paper quietly. The professor has continued lecturing, meanwhile, the whole class is breaking their necks to see what it is.

You lean down over the gift, obscuring the view from your nosy peers. A collective grunt ensues. You’ve removed enough paper at this point so you can make out what it is. You blink twice.

“Whoa, did you draw that?” Another friend elbows them. “Dumbass, how could they make that if it was just delivered?”

A smile grows on your face as you bubble with tears. Your eyes drift over the soft brush-strokes, blending, and colors. Your every mole captured. Light bouncing off your every curve. How Kim Taehyung sees you. Bare and beautiful.

You spot a small note inside the bouquet that reads:

Sorry I took so long, Sweetcheeks. I appreciate art. KTH.

To be continued...

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i-like-5sos · 4 years

Text

No Idea [Malum Fic]

PAIRING: Calum Hood x Michael Clifford

WORD COUNT: 6428

WARNINGS: Drinking, swearing, and just some angst

SUMMARY: After moving across the country to escape the heartache that high school brings and to begin his first year at University, Michael finds himself face to face with the very person that caused his heartbreak: Calum Hood.

A/N: This was made specifically for Mandie for The Club Fic Gift Exchange ! It’s been a hot minute since I’ve written any mxm BUT I’ve missed it and can’t wait to start writing more (if you have any suggestions on how to improve please send them my way, I’ll take all the help I can get).

Fifteen minutes late. I’m fifteen minutes late to my first class as a University student. Great.

I burst out through the doors of the residency building, almost crashing into some blonde girl who’s face leaves my memory as quickly as it entered, and run as fast as I can across the campus to The Arts building. Thankfully I listened to Mom’s advice and looked up a map of the school last night or I’d be fucked right now. Musical Theory. Monday, 8AM. Room 102: Arts Building. I check the room number on my schedule twice before taking a deep breath and opening the door to my classroom.

The door opens to the back of the room and multiple heads spin around to face me. I can feel my face getting hot as I try to disappear into myself and search for a place to sit down. As to be expected, almost every table in the room is full and there’s nowhere to sit… Unless I want to join one of the tables of three and converse in small talk with a group of people that obviously don’t want me to sit with them- and let’s be clear; I don’t want to do that.

I almost settle for a table with two girls seated at it, but then notice the table in the front of the room with only one person there. Thank god. I head toward the dark-haired boy at the table and quietly sit across from him. He doesn’t react as I sit down, his head buried in his folded arms on the table.

I would normally never be caught dead at the front of the room, but here I am, sitting so close to the professor that I can smell his cheap cologne, having to share a table with some random guy who is probably going to hate me for ruining his table of solitude.

As the class continues, I do my best to follow along with the PowerPoint slides on my screen while also trying to focus on what the professor is saying at the front of the room, but I can’t help but glance over to the brunette across from me every chance I get. His head hasn’t left his arms since I’ve sat down, and I’m pretty sure he’s asleep… Maybe I should wake him up. Maybe he’s dead. I begin to picture what would happen if my classmate had died sitting across from me. Would I have to talk to the police? Would I be a suspect? Am I obligated to go to his funeral and give a speech? What would I even say? What if-

“You will have two months to complete this project and it will be worth thirty percent of your final grade. Get to work.”

I turn to face the Professor, and I realize that I may have zoned out for the entire explanation of a project that’s worth almost a third of my final grade… awesome.

Letting out a sigh, I turn back to read through the notes on my screen and, of course, none of them have anything to do with a huge project. There is no way I am going to ask the professor to repeat everything he’d just said.

As my classmates begin to talk amongst themselves about the project that I know nothing about, I glance over to the boy across from me that may or may not be dead and decide that now’s a good a time as any to find out.

“Hey” I say quietly.

No response.

I repeat myself a little louder, “Hey… Uh, my name’s Michael.”

No response again.

“Dude, seriously?” I huff, before picking up my biggest textbook and dropping it onto the table.

It worked! His head shoots up and I notice the headphones in his ears. That explains a lot. I also notice that the boy I’ve been watching all morning sitting across from me is the same boy I’d spent the majority of my high school years watching from across the room. Calum Hood. I haven’t seen him since our high school graduation last June, but he looks about the same. Same dark hair, same brown eyes, same three moles on his cheek, same annoyed and confused look on his face- oh no wait that’s new.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” He glares at me as he rips the headphones out of his ears.

“I thought you were dead or asleep or something.” I shrug before changing the topic, “I didn’t know you got accepted here.”

“Well, obviously I’m not dead, and if I was sleeping, that was a cruel way to get me to wake up... Remind me never to have you actually wake me up.” He places his headphones into his backpack before continuing. “And um, yeah, I was torn between a few different universities but settled on the one farthest from home… Looks like you did the same?”

I nod and chuckle softly. “Yeah. Fuck that place.”

“How pop punk of you.” He laughs, and it brings me back to being fifteen and pathetically swooning over that very sound, never being the one to have caused it. If only fifteen-year-old me could see me now.

Grounding myself, I quickly try to think of something that isn’t completely embarrassing, and remember the mysterious project that I know mothing about.

“So… did you catch anything the prof was saying about this project worth thirty percent of our grade… cause I might have zoned out the whole time...”

He looks confused for a moment, before directing his attention to his laptop.

“I can’t blame you for not paying attention. Five minutes into his lecture I stopped listening to him and started listing to my music instead. Figured I could just read the Power Point later tonight.” He types something before continuing, “I looked through the material on the class page before the lecture started and I think I saw something about a group project that was worth thirty percent… let me just… Okay yeah, here it is.” He turns his laptop to face me, pointing at the assignment on the screen and showing me how her got there.

I quickly follow his instructions to the page and begin reading about the assignment. It’s a group project for 2-3 people about how emotions and feelings are portrayed through song. We’re all supposed to draw an emotion from the professor -that explains why people keep getting up to talk to him- and write an essay about a song that has made us feel this way. Once we finish our essays, we’re supposed to go back to our partners and make a playlist of 25 songs that combines each the emotions we were individually assigned and talk about how easily these emotions can be portrayed in music. Seems simple enough… Except for the whole partner part.

I look up from my computer screen, and before I can talk myself out of it, I ask Calum if he’d like to partner up for the project. To my surprise, he agrees and before I know it, I’m looking down at the paper I had pulled out of the tin can on my professor’s desk. Longing. What kind of lame-ass emotion is longing? I sit back down at our table and show Calum my paper.

“Longing? That’s going to be so easy to write about! And it’ll go great with love. This is going to be a piece of cake.” He enthusiastically, typing away on his laptop.

“You got love? Are you kidding me? That’s such bullshit. Every song is about love… or sex… or drugs, and I don’t think sex or drugs are emotions… so like that’s not fair.” I look back at my small slip of paper, “How am I even supposed to write about longing?”

He breaks away from his typing long enough to look at me, “Longing is so easy to write about. Haven’t you ever wanted something you couldn’t have? Or missed someone or something like that?”

“I don’t know… maybe.” I pause for a moment, “I don’t know.”

He looks back to his screen and continues to type. “Okay, I looked up the word longing and it says here that ‘Longing is mainly a blend of the primary emotions of love or happiness and sadness or depression’. So there. You can focus on one of those four. It’s not that hard, Michael.”

Hearing Calum say my name takes me back for another brief moment. Even though we went to the same school for four years, I never really knew if he had known my name or not… we never really talked or hung out in the same crowds, so I figured it was safe to assume he didn’t even know I existed.

He shakes his head and looks at his screen again as I try to avoid the thoughts of how smooth my name rolled off his tongue that are currently running wild in my head, to focus on what he had said about the different ways longing could be portrayed and experienced.

Just as I begin to reflect on the last few years of my life for a moment that could stand out as ‘experiencing longing’, I’m interrupted by the sounds of my classmates packing up their belongings. I look to my left and notice Calum suddenly standing next to me.

“Here,” he says, handing me a sticky note with a phone number on it. “text me so we can meet up to work on the project.”

“I uh- thanks.” I stumble over my words as I take the paper from him and stick it to the inside of my laptop.

When I turn back to Calum, he’s already on his way to the door. I quickly pack up my books and pause for a moment to look at the sticky note before shutting my laptop, ignoring the heat on my face and the feeling in my stomach.

. . .

I feel like I may have stepped into an alternate dimension when I entered that classroom two weeks ago, because I’ve somehow found myself in the Calum Hood’s dorm room. By choice. His choice. Who would have thought?

To be honest, I’m kind of surprised at how easily we get along. We both have the same taste in music, the same sense of humor, and the same hobbies. Who knew we were so similar? Had we actually spoken to one another in high school, there would have been no stopping a friendship from forming.

Since texting him the day after our class, we’ve pretty much been inseparable. So, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that I’m hanging out with Calum in his dorm room… but I kind of am.

“Okay seriously, Calum. How do you already have four pages written out for your essay?” I ask, scrolling through the Word document open on his laptop.

“It’s like you said, love is easy to write about… You know what else is easy to write about?” He spins around on his desk chair, taking a break from his game to face me. “Longing. Have you even started your essay, or were you just planning on taking me down with you when you flunk out?”

I set the laptop down next to me on his bed. “The only one flunking out here is your team in Fifa.”

“That was a shit insult and you know it.”

“You’re a shit insult.”

He shakes his head and laughs. “Mate, for real. Do you need help writing your part?”

“No. I told you, I’ll be fine. I just need some inspiration… Which is what I should have gotten from your essay but the whole damn thing is about your family. It is so boring! Where’s the drama? Weren’t you a ladies’ man in high school? Where’s that Calum?”

With his eyebrows raised he looks taken aback for a moment and bursts out laughing.

“Did you seriously just call fourteen-year-old me a ‘ladies’ man’?” He asks, making air quotes at the last part.

I shrug and he continues laughing.

“Okay fine, you have a point. But like... what even is longing?”

His laughter softens and he rolls his eyes, smiling at me.

“Do you need me to pull up the definition again?”

“Fuck off.” I huff.

“Okay, fine… What about like, leaving town to come here. Didn’t you miss your girlfriend? Or your friends? Or maybe your family?”

“Girlfriend?” I laugh loudly. There’s no way he’s serious right now… “No. Absolutely no girlfriend. As for my family? I honestly couldn’t be happier to be on my own and out of the house... Also, it’s kind of hard to miss your friends when facetime exists.” I lay back on his bed and prop myself up with my elbow. “What else ya got?”

“Okay lone wolf… what about uh… okay I’ve got it. What about longing for like… touch, or affection, or love, or… fucking I don’t know, food?”

“Yeah, cause I’ll definitely get an A writing my essay about craving a Big Mac. Maybe I can get extra credit if I bring one in.”

He glares at me and rolls his eyes again before shaking his head and turning around to focus his attention back to his game. I drop my head onto his pillow and sigh. Watching him play, my mind wanders as I being to think about his words. Touch. Affection. Love. My heart aches for the poor fifteen-year-old boy I once was, longing for those exact things for over a year and never getting them. I remember the emotional shut down I forced myself to do to move on from the brown-eyed boy that occupied my mind daily. I sigh deeply, taking in the musky scent of the room around me, and as much as I don’t want to admit it, I finally know what I’ll be writing about.

. . .

“Are you sure you know where this party is? I’m pretty sure we’re lost.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure they said it’s in this neighborhood… there should be a street coming up soon that starts with an S… or maybe it was a B. Whatever. We’ll start to see people on the street sooner or later and follow the noise to the right house.”

Calum and I continue to walk aimlessly down the suburban streets with houses that all look the same, in search for a party that I’m not even sure exists at this point.

“You’d think, for someone that probably went to every high school party, you’d know to write down an address when it’s given to you.” I grumble as my feet begin to ache.

“You know, you make a lot of assumptions about what I was like in high school. Weren’t you ever told not to assume?” He says, bumping his shoulder against mine.

“You’re really going to tell me that you never went to any parties in high school? I seriously doubt that.”

“Okay… Well, yeah I went to some parties. Didn’t everyone though?”

“What? No.” I scoff. “Dude, not everyone was invited to parties like Mr. Cool Guy over here.”

“Am I supposed to be Mr. Cool Guy? That’s a laugh.”

“Mate. Just admit it. You were one of the cool kids and you know it.” I bump my shoulder back against his.

“Was not.”

“You were to! Everyone knew who you were. Everyone wanted to either date you or be you. You can’t be that oblivious.” I kick a small pebble as we cross yet another unidentifiable street.

“Date me or be me huh? Did you want to be me?”

Fucking hell. Why am I still allowed to have the ability to speak without a filter?

“No.” I focus my gaze on the cracks in the sidewalk, making sure to avoid any possible eye contact.

It’s quiet for a moment as a car drives past us, filling the silence before Calum speaks again.

“Well, you obviously didn’t want to date me. So, your theory is clearly wrong.”

I walk beside him silently as I debate whether to admitting to the fact that I had the biggest crush on him for over a year when we were younger.

“See, I’m right.”

“I did though.” I choke out before I’m able to stop myself. Fuck.

“What?” He stops walking.

Well, this was fun while it lasted… I wonder if our professor will still let me join another group, seeing as Calum isn’t going to want to talk to me ever again.

May as well finish the job then.

“I did want to date you.” I confess softly as I stop in front of him, keeping my eyes on the ground.

“You’re not... gay though.”

I- What? He’s got to be kidding me right now. I’m pretty sure everyone in high school knew I was gay. Hell, I came out to my parents in the fifth grade.

“Are you fucking with me? Calum.” I finally gain the courage to meet my eyes with his and see him shaking his head. “I’m gay as fuck. Always have been.”

“No way. What about Jessica Hunter?”

We’re awkwardly standing in the middle of the sidewalk and I’m completely over-aware of the man walking his dog across the street as Calum continues to stare at me with a dumbstruck look on his face. Well, at least he hasn’t left yet.

“What about Jessica? She and I hang out from time to time and listen to music together. We’re friends.” Oh god. “Wait- are you thinking that her and I? Oh god. Never.” I shake my head to try and get that image out of it.

“No no... She was in love with you! The way she always talked about you, hung around you, and hung off you… You went to Prom together! You were the reason I never even had a chance with her. I spent so many hours thinking about you and why she chose you over me and I…” he tampers off and continues to look utterly confused.

Am I being Punked right now? There must be a hidden camera somewhere. This can’t be real.

“No Calum. Oh my god. Mate. Jessica and I were always together talking about you. She didn’t want me. She wanted you… We both did. We only went to Prom together cause she was still hung up on you and didn’t have the guts to ask you herself. Plus, you did that whole stag Prom thing with Timothy Anderson anyway.”

He continues to stand there, trying to piece together the story he had so wrongly created around himself.

“So… You’re gay.”

“Yup.”

“And you actually used to … like me?”

“Yup”

“And Jessica-“

“Never had a chance with me. Because I’m gay and she had the hots for you anyway… Are we all caught up? Can we please keep walking? I’m getting cold.”

“Man, did I have this whole thing wrong or what…” He shakes his head and starts walking again.

We continue heading to the party that totally doesn’t exist and get about half a block away from where we had previously stopped before Calum stops walking again.

“Dude! Seriously?” I sigh deeply and stop a few feet in front of him.

“You don’t uh… still have feeling for me or anything. Do you?”

“Yes Calum. I’m completely head over heels for you and plan to propose to you when we get to the party in front of everyone.” His mouth drops and I roll my eyes. “Fuck off. No. Cal, I don’t still have feelings for you. That was years ago. Now can we please keep walking? I’m going to fucking die of hypothermia.”

“Okay… you’re right. Sorry.” He mutters, clearly embarrassed and continues to walk again.

At least I’m not the only one that’s embarrassed.

We walk silently for a few minutes and I feel his fingertips brush against mine and my heart flutters softly. Shit.

. . .

“Are you even listening to me Mike?”

I look up from my phone to see Calum glaring at me. He burst into my dorm room about 45 minutes ago insisting we practice our presentation for the millionth time since he finished his essay. Of course, mine’s not finished yet, but at least I have something to write about now. But, without mine to practice, he’s just been reading his on a loop – I personally think he’s trying to annoy me to death. Jokes on him though, he’s got a nice voice.

“I can only hear your essay so many times before my brain starts to block it out to preserve my sanity.”

“You wouldn’t have to hear it so much if we had something else to practice… like, I don’t know- maybe your easy perhaps?”

How subtle. Ever since he finished his essay (overachiever much?), he’s been on my ass about mine. Even if I actually had it finished, there’s no way in Hell I’ll be letting him see this – let alone hear me read it out loud – until I have to.

“Dude. I’ve told you like eighty times now. I hate presenting stuff. I’m not doing it any more than I have to. Being in front of everyone, having them all stare at me- judging me? Fuck that. Once is enough. I don’t need you judging me too.”

“You honestly think I’m going to judge you? I don’t buy it. You’re Michael Clifford. You don’t give a shit about what other people think about you.”

I can’t help but laugh out loud. If only he knew.

“Well, when I’m putting myself out there in front of a whole room of people then yeah, I’m going to give a shit about what they think.”

“Putting yourself out there? Mate, it’s an essay. You sure you’re not just making up excuses to cover up the fact that you haven’t started writing it yet?”

Calum runs his finger through his hair, and I try not to stare. Why did he have to come to my school again, be in my class again, make my heart ache again. I feel like this time is worse. Being this close, not being able to touch him in the ways I want. Is this some horrible karma for complaining about longing? I shake my head at the joke that I call my love life and push past it like I always do.

“Maybe, but I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

He throws a pillow at me and tells me to shut up before beginning to read his presentation yet again.

. . .

As I approach Calum’s door, I look down at the folded mess of papers in my hands and decide to quickly shove them into my backpack to make sure he doesn’t try to take them and read my shitty essay beforehand.

I pull my bag off my back and drop to my knees to put the papers away. I finish zipping it up and throw it over my shoulder as I hear the door open in front of me. I look up and see an eye full of Calum’s junk. My eyes widen and I can feel my cheeks heat up as I quickly look away and stand up. I try not to look at his face and pray that my cheeks aren’t as red as they feel.

“At least buy me dinner first. Damn.” He laughs. The sound melts my worries away. Mostly.

“Fuck off. We’re going to be late.” I give him a shove and begin walking to the exit.

Walking with one another to our classes has become a part of our daily routine. Calum decided so about a month ago when he found out that I tripped and scrapped my elbow and knee open like a child while running to make it on time for one of my 8AM classes. So now he seems to think that I can’t manage walking to class by myself. I mean, I’m not complaining. I’ll take any time that I can get with him until inevitably ruin the best friendship I’ve ever had.

As we walk, Calum is -of course- rehearsing his presentation again. I sigh and think about the essay sitting in my bag and how he’s going to react to hearing it. Maybe he’ll just drop the class and ghost me. God that will hurt... Maybe I should just fake sick, or say I never finished my part of the project, or-

My spiraling thoughts are cut short by Calum opening the classroom door and I admit defeat. The two of us sit at our table still -sadly- located at the front of the room. As we sit down, I watch Calum pull out his papers and read them over as if he didn’t just prove that he’s got it memorized by reciting it on our walk over. I set up my laptop and shove my papers under it, quickly checking back to Calum to make sure he hasn’t noticed. I exhale softly and wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans before opening our Spotify playlist, preparing it for our presentation.

A dread-filed hour and a half passes as I listen to the other groups make their presentations and read through their playlists to try and distract myself.

“Group seven, you’re up.”

My blood goes cold and I feel like I can’t move. I feel Calum swiftly kick my shin under the table.

“That’s us. Get up.” He whispers

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I want to be back at home in my bed. I don’t want this. I don’t want to lose my friend. Why did I have to take this class? Why couldn’t I have been assigned anger. Why didn’t I just sit with those two girls that first day?

“Mike, it’ll be okay. I’ll be up there with you the whole time.” That’s half the problem, Calum.

I sigh deeply and open my eyes. They stay glued to the table as I pick up my laptop and the messy pile of papers underneath it. I walk slowly behind Calum to the front of the room and stop at the podium. I quickly plug my laptop into the screen behind us as he introduces the both of us to the class and begins to talk about the emotions we were assigned before launching into how they relate to one another and briefly talking about our playlist. I feel slightly reassured as he begins to recite the speech that I pretty much have memorized myself at this point. I allow myself to zone out to the sound of his voice as I wait for my cue.

“… and to me that is what love is to me. Family.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I rub my sweaty palms on my jeans again and pick up my papers with trembling hands. Closing my eyes again, I take another deep breath and open them once finished. Here goes everything.

“I- um- I’m Michael and I uh… I was assigned the emotion longing. When I first read the small paper and saw I had longing, I was confused and upset that my partner had such an easy emotion to talk about and I um… I had something as complex as longing…” I look over to Calum and he gives me a reassuring smile and my heart skips a beat. “Until he helped me realize that longing is pretty much the universal emotion. It branches into every emotion you can think of. It powers them and really brings the depth to them. Once I had realized this, the only issue I had was choosing which emotional experience to talk about. This itself seemed to be an impossible choice, so I’ve decided to talk about an experience that, like longing, incorporates every emotion. Heartbreak. My chosen song for this was No Idea by All Time Low. Song number…” I quickly look over at our playlist and count the sounds out to make sure I’m right before continuing, “seven on our playlist.”

I press play and I continue over the quiet music, telling the story of a young Michael who was in love with a boy that never knew he existed. A boy who broke his heart without ever even speaking to him. A boy who he was still desperately in love with, years later. A never-ending tale of longing.

Once the longest five minutes of my life had passed, I quickly unplug my laptop and hurry back to our table, avoiding eye contact with Calum the entire way back. I grab my books and shove them along with my laptop and essay into my bag. I damage my papers even more by doing so, but I could care less.

Throwing my backpack over my shoulder, I leave the room as I hear Calum call out after me. There’s no way he’ll catch up to me. Besides, my Sound Tech class was cancelled today, so even if he does manage to catch up, I won’t be there.

I finally make it back to my room without encountering Calum and I toss my bag onto my chair and dive face first into my bed to wait out the impending consequences for ambushing my best friend in the middle of a room full of people. Why did I do that. Fuck me.

. . .

Calum had been planning a party over the last few weeks to celebrate us finishing our project. I had told him time and time again that ‘finishing a project’ is the lamest reason to throw a party. But yet, here I am, in my room surrounded by the pulsating beats of music blasting down the dorm hall.

I’ve managed to avoid Calum for the past four days since the most embarrassing moment of my life. He’s tried texting and calling me too many times to count, and he even showed up to my dorm room twice. I, of course, pretended to be asleep both times.

So, I know it has to be Calum banging repeatedly on my door, throwing off the steady beats of music.

“Mike, it’s Calum. Can I come in?” I hear him shout through the door over the music.

I get up and turn the light off before returning to my desk to continue trying to focus on the game on my computer and pretending I’m not here.

“Mate! I saw you turn your light off! Michael! Open the door!”

The banging persists and my head sinks lower and lower into my shoulders. Go away. Please. I don’t want to hurt. Not tonight. Please.

“I’m not leaving! Maybe I’ll just ask one of those art kids for a sculpting knife and cut your door down! HA! You couldn’t avoid me if I did that! You wouldn’t even have a door to lock!” He slurs half of his words and it’s becoming clear that he’s drunk, and drunk Calum doesn’t quit.

I drop my head onto the desk and breathe deeply for a minute, listening to him yell at me through the door, before getting up and walking over to the sound. I pause there for a moment and prepare for the worst.

As soon as I open the door, Calum falls backwards onto my floor. How in the Hell…

“What do you want Calum? I’m busy.”

He stumbles back to his feet, swaying softly while he regains his balance in the centre of my dark room.

“You’re busy? You’re busy. That’s why you’ve been avoiding me for a week? Cause you’re busy?! Fuck off Michael.”

I say nothing as I lean against my open door, waiting for him to get this over with, so I can shut it behind him and go back to my self-loathing.

“Answer me!”

Clearly the silent treatment isn’t working here. I glance at the hallway full of people, some who have begun to stare at the two of us. I grit my teeth and shut the door, letting the darkness engulf my room, leaving only the light of my computer screen allowing us to see one another as we stand together in the center of the room.

“What the Hell do you want me to say?!”

“Well for starters, how about you tell me why the fuck you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been-“

“Fuck off. You have, and you know it. Now tell me why.”

I shake my head and adjust my weight from foot to foot, shrugging to come up with an excuse.

“Oh. My. God. You’re impossible!” He pauses for a moment and takes a deep breath before I watch his posture soften. “Is this about what you said in your essay?”

I go stiff and remind myself to breathe.

“I knew it! At first, I didn’t think that was it, but it fucking was! Why are you avoiding me? Do you think I’m against your sexuality or some shit? Is that why you won’t talk to me? Cause that’s not true! You never even asked me about what I thought about it. About your feelings for me. How I would feel. About my feelings for- about your sexuality. Your sexuality, yeah... You just never asked me.” His face reddens at the last part, probably from lack of air after that speech.

I listen as he drunkenly rambles at me and try to think of something to say. How can he be right? He can’t be. I shouldn’t have to explain myself or my sexuality to him. Why would it matter what he thought about my sexuality?

“Your opinion of my sexuality isn’t needed Calum.” I say, shaking my head.

He sighs harshly and rubs his temples before stomping his foot. Did he actually just stop his foot? Is he five?

“Michael. That’s not what I’m saying! Listen to me! You’re so busy thinking about yourself and your feelings that you’re missing the bigger picture! You’re not the only person in this situation!”

“Oh, I’m sorry Calum. I’m so sorry my feelings were an inconvenience for you! You wanna talk about it? Let’s talk about it! Have my feelings for you ruined your college experience? Have my feelings for you kept you up every night? Have my feelings for you broken your heart?!”

He is silent for a moment before closing his eyes. His body sways softly as he runs his hands through his hair.

“No-” He sighs deeply before replying quietly, “your feelings for me didn’t do any of those things to me. Mine did.”

He opens his eyes and the light of the computer screen highlights the beautiful features of his skin as his words sink into mine.

I stand there with my jaw dropped, staring at the man in front of me. Did he just say… No. No. This is a sick joke. I feel a lump form in my throat begin to form.

“That’s not funny Calum.” I choke out softly.

“I’m not joking.”

“You’re straight.”

“I’m not! I’m Bisexual.” His cheeks redden softly in the pale blue light.

I stare at him in disbelief. He’s got to be drunk out of his mind to lie like this.

“You’re straight.” I repeat in an attempt to both reassure myself and convince him to stop the lies.

He runs his hands through his hair again and lets out an exasperated groan.

“Michael! Fuck! Why won’t you ever listen! I like you! I’ve been trying to tell you ever since you came out to me on the way to that shitty party. I only stopped myself cause you said you didn’t have feelings for me anymore. I’m bisexual Michael! Why do you think I went to Prom with Timothy?”

“That- that was just a stag thing…”

“I wasn’t ready to come out yet. Neither was he.”

He takes a step closer to me, making me overly aware of how small my dorm room actually is. I can smell his cologne and the alcohol -tequila? Yeah, tequila- wafting off him as the space between our bodies lessens.

“So, you’re… bisexual?”

The relief is visible as it washes over him. He smiles softly and takes another step towards me.

“And you… uh… you like me?”

“You wanna talk about it?” He whispers as his eyes drop to my lips.

“Calum, I-”

Before I can finish whatever stupid thing I was going to say, I feel his hands grab my face and his lips crash into mine. I close my eyes and return the kiss. My hands find their way into his hair as he pushes his body against mine. His hand leaves my cheek and finds its way up the back of my shirt, pulling my body impossibly closer to his.

This is more than I’ve ever dreamt of. Calum Hood. Calum Hood kissing me. His hair is softer than I could have ever imagined. I can taste the tequila on his tongue as it slips ever so slightly in between my lips and I suddenly remember how drunk he is. It takes every part of me to pull away and break the kiss.

“Calum. You’re drunk. I can’t.”

“I can.” He steps towards me with a slightly needy expression in his eyes.

“Calum.” I repeat sternly and step away, my back pressing against the door.

He lets out a defeated sigh as he turns around and walks over to the drawer where I keep my snacks.

“Do you have any bread?”

“I- uh… what?... Maybe, why?”

“I want to sober up so you’ll kiss me again.”

I laugh softly and walk over to help him look.

. . .

I wake up to the feeling of something heavy laying across my face. As I open my eyes and adjust my sights to the room around me, I realize the heavy thing on my face is actually Calum’s arm. The events of last night come back to me like a hurricane. Calum arriving at my dorm room drunk, Calum coming out to me as bisexual and confessing his feelings for me… Calum kissing me, and finally, Calum falling asleep beside me while waiting to sober up… I would say it was a dream, but I now have a red, arm-shaped mark on my face to prove otherwise.

I peel his arm off my head and his eyes shoot open, making me jump a little. I watch as he looks around the room and stops once his eyes meet mine. He smiles sweetly at me.

“Hi.” He says, his voice deep and raspy from just waking up.

“Hey there.” I whisper back.

“Guess what.”

“What.”

He smirks at me as his hand finds its way to my cheek and his body shifts towards mine.

“I think I’m finally sober.”

I exhale as my body relaxes from the tension and worry I didn’t realize I had about last night. I chew on my bottom lip as I wait for him to do something.

His eyes explore my face before slowing down at my lips just as they did last night. He blinks slowly and as his eyes open, I find them looking into mine again. He smiles softly as he closes them once more and leans forward, connecting his lips to mine. His pillowy lips kiss mine softly for the best minute of my life, and when he pulls away, he takes my breath with him. I am utterly awestruck by his beauty and the feeling of his lips on mine.

“How about you and I go on to dinner later and get to know the real us? No more assumptions and no more secrets.”

I nod and smile widely.

“I thought you’d never ask.” I agree as he grins before kissing me again.

#malum #the club gift exchange #for mandie #malum fic rec #soft malum #calum x michael #malum fic #malum one shot #5sos fic #5sos one shot #writings #mine

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ryttu3k · 4 years

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Finishing up SoNY, ‘bad’ end and final thoughts!

But first, the early game over.

Wow, she just gets shot. Not even slurped? That’s rude as hell XD;;

And on to the ‘bad’ end!

Beginning is much the same, ofc.

“You’re too in love with weaving a good story and establishing a seductive narrative to let facts get in the way.” Foreshadowing for the ‘good’ end, maybe?

God that Embrace scene gives me literal goosebumps.

Alright! Last time I did Danse Macabre and Retributive Justice, let’s try The Risks of Swiping Right!

lmao god I’d eat this guy too. Back to the ghost club! That legitimately is a really neat scene. ...Ooh yes so that’s where the girl was from.

Panhard just lowkey dying at the mental image of Katherine Weise in a fast food restaurant is so good.

The sweet scene between Julia and Dakota hits a bit different after the ‘good’ end XD;;

Went to the park, reminisced, and helped out the guy. That was sweet ;_; High-humanity Julia, this time!

‘Fairy God Mother?’ is great but ‘Vin Diesel?’ is objectively the funnier response.

“Shining even more brightly than usual, Aisling.” Samira got a cru-ush~

Poor Julie. It’s probably been tough without Sophie around :(

Huh. Interestingly, refusing to lie to Mia results in Julia actually feeling genuine loyalty to the Cammies (for now, at least).

Believing Agathon is still alive = more optimistic = different dialogue! See, this is how you make choices have consequences, game!

Oooh boy time to meet Adelaide XD;;

“She uncrosses her legs in a strangely seductive motion. In her mind’s eye, it probably looked like Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct, but in reality, it had all the grace of a tracksuit Slav squatting.” *snickering*

Fight me, Adelaide >:(

‘sup Nastya. Went with the slightly less disruptive routine here XD Huh, she’s an aspiring DJ! Julia is deeply confused as to how being a DJ and being head of security works together.

lmao Julia referring to Hope as a girlboss. That phrase has lost all meaning to me...

The conversation between Julia and Father Leonard is still really interesting. Man, you know who I want Julia to talk to? Anatole. Interesting insights into balancing being queer Catholic vampires there for sure.

lmao oh my god I want to fight this street reporter.

‘I can almost feel my brain losing its wrinkles.’ *snort*

Yeaghhhh the Abyss bit is still so creepy...

Oops. Being honest regarding Tamika and Torque’s relationships gets a fail :(

Oh, or not XD That works! Also, uh, apparently the giant albino ghoul alligator is real, according to New York by Night. He’s Calebros’ pet.

“Because I think I have a pretty good nose for people’s auras. And when I take a good look at you... ...somehow, I have a feeling you’re a surprisingly decent person. Whatever way of unlife you choose, I hope you don’t change it. And that you remember my advice.” :)

“I know.” Oof.

“Hi.” “WAAAH!” lmao sorry Princess XD;; Just trying to imagine Qadir’s face as he tells Julia to find a 1990 glass statue of Scrooge McDuck... dying...

Oh she’s so a Toreador XD Low art options are a fantasy book, an anime DVD, or a video game... those can all be arty, though! And went with the anime DVD called ‘Ririsu no Daibouken’... that translates to ‘Adventures of Lilith’. How on the nose XD “The cover says ‘Lilith’s Carnal Carnival’.” Oh. Yeah, that’d do it XD

“This 90s original video anime presents us with a tale of five big-bosomed samurai warriors travelling through America in search of General Hastavista, The Incubus King. Don’t let all the titillation misguide you: the main draws here are peerless direction, a nearly avant-garde editing rhythm and dialogue that coyly comments on traditional gender roles in anime. Once you see the animation in the final battle, you’ll understand why it never fails to set a sakuga fan’s heart ablaze!”

She’s my new favourite.

“So can I know your name now?”

“Hmmm... Let me think...

No. <3″

I need to stress that the heart appears in the dialogue box. Like. The actual less-than-three heart.

Didn’t investigate the rat this time, so Qadir did and I die. “Glad you’re alright, little guy.” Qadir...

Still not over the drunk blood doll rats.

Kaiser’s still a goddamn creep and this time Julia is not going too far. She still has her humanity, dammit. Final set of traits:

Loyal to the end

Glass half-full

Not into a bad cop schtick

Honesty is the best policy

No more human, still humane

Onwards to the ‘bad’ end! Oops, and Dakota still did the Single White Female thing XD;;

Man I’m still really curious who the ‘good friend’ is!!

Okay! Time for end game!!

So that’s the good friend, huh? “Let me phrase it differently, then. You’re not Ecaterina the Wise, the Agitator of Prague, a Brujah elder causing turbulences all over the world... are you?”

Mention of Christof! Mention of Christof doing shady shit :| Poor Hana.

“An immigrant from Eastern Europe comes to New York City, takes the position she always expected to find herself in, is molded into someone who is no longer herself.”

Julia and Dakota representing Carthage is kind of neat.

I want to say the mention of St Jude is a reference, but I’m not sure what to XD;; Is that from Redemption? Christof could have been the one to tell Hana that.

“Like a two-person human centipede loop or something. An Ouroburos? Or an, uhh, Mobius strip?” No, that’s the other traditionally Sabbat clan XD

That‘s. That’s a hell of a reconciliation XD “Yeah, let’s give it a try. By the way I’m on the run for my unlife, want to go to California and try to find utopia?”

Julia, wear a fucking mask XD

“Hey.”

“Yeah?“

“Do you love me?”

“... Of course I do. For now, at least.”

I still don’t know if I love her. Or even if I can love anyone, for that matter. I’m a fucking monster, after all. I don’t even know if we’ll exist next month. The prospects are not looking good. But although I can’t see myself in the rearview mirror right now...

...I will remember this image of us leaving the city, somewhat melancholic, and somewhat hopeful, forever. And maybe the meaning of this image will be clarified with time. Or maybe I will just force a more positive description on it, and that is what I’ll believe.

No matter what happens... even if oceans of blood lie before us, I will make this a cherished memory.

Whatever possible salvation still remains for me... ...it probably lies in the eyes of another.

Oh dang I have chills.

So the ‘bad’ ending is about the subverted compromise. Julia resigns herself to letting the compromise about the truth of Callihan’s death go ahead. ‘Catherine’ is a walking compromise to hide the Ecaterina’s real deeds. But while Hana is still stuck in her role for now, Julia refuses to accept the compromise she’s made, both the one relating to the investigation and the compromise she made of her own views and morals. It might blow up in her face, yeah. But damn, she’s going to try.

So, final thoughts! For the sake of completion, this is what I said about Coteries:

And of course this is the part where the game all falls apart :-\

Just… god. This is probably the biggest problem with CoNY, and the reason I didn’t bother getting it until it was like… 60% off. The bulk of the game is great - the writing is intriguing, the design is stunning. But the choices themselves are so limited it’s barely worth even getting it at 60% off!

You have three choices of characters, with their own opening chapters and own individual scenes with their touchstones. You have four choices of coterie members, and three sidequests. You can probably get in at least three full story arcs and a sidequest or two, but you’re only ever limited to two of your coterie members showing up at the not-yet-endgame.

So let’s say you decide to play all three protags, which, indeed, is encouraged (there’s an achievement for it). You are going to repeat coterie arcs and side quests, because there simply aren’t enough for three unique playthroughs.

And then you get to the end and literally everything is scripted. You get attacked by the SI. You get rescued by your two coterie members (and then never see them again, despite the game being called Coteries of New York). You meet Torque, you escape the SI, Sophie reveals her plan to Torque, you go to Ellis Island, Adelaide kills Sophie (and despite the fact that you’re given multiple options there, none of them work), Arturo does his spiel, end of game. You don’t even get to choose between ending up blood bound or going “no fuck you” and at least dying with a bit of dignity!

I just. I really want to like it, and there genuinely is a lot there to like! But uuuugh the ending. Like damn at least give the poor protag the option to choose what happens to them!

Anyway. Not sure what’s next. To get all the achievements, you have to finish with all three protags, so that’s three full runs and a lot of repetitiveness (compare to, say, Bloodlines or Night Road. I have eighty-five hours on Night Road and there’s still stuff I haven’t seen!), so I can’t even just… rush it through up to the meeting with the touchstones on the third play. Nope. Gotta finish it :-\

Final rating: 6/10

8/10 characters, 9/10 atmosphere, 8/10 story aside from ending, 3/10 story ending, 2/10 replayability. Final consensus: get it on major sale if you can, otherwise, you might as well just watch an LP. I might do that instead of doing a third run, although I at least want to do a second.

I ended up revising that 6/10 to 5.5/10 after finishing all runs and getting the achievements just out of how goddamn repetitive it was. So, how does Shadows measure up?

Absolutely continued with all the things I enjoyed about CoNY (characters, atmosphere, and writing), and of the bits I hated (cookie cutter protagonists, lack of real choice, repetitiveness, the godawful ending), every single part has been completely improved.

Instead of three fledglings so similar they even have the same internal thoughts, we have Julia, who’s got such a distinct voice that she becomes the most memorable game protag I’ve seen in years, and I’m including non-VtM games in this. This is absolutely her game, and it’s just... absolutely fascinating to read and watch.

Related - actual real choices. There are five key choices that determine the ending, and every single one has actual consequence in-game. You get different dialogue. Different introspection. Different philosophies. And this carries across - if Julia believes Agathon is alive, she’s more optimistic about her relationship with Dakota, too. And of course, both endings are completely distinct and incredibly written - the ‘good’ ending where Julia gives in to her most Lasombra instincts, plays the game, wins it, gets power and respect at the expense of her humanity and avoiding all those wraiths... or the ‘bad’ ending when she listens to her morals, reconciles with Dakota, and leaves for California, uncertain, but hopeful.

Not a lot of repetitiveness. Yes, by design, you’ll probably do two playthroughs. The main plot is much the same, but there are enough options there to get multiple dialogue options and stuff. And for the little sidequests, you can actually get all in with just the two playthroughs, only repeating like... two, I think. Still, I wasn’t feeling actively bored like I was midway through my second run of CoNY!

Loved seeing more in-depth backstory and development for the coterie members. Agathon’s section was particularly fascinating, literally getting into his head.

And just. Atmosphere and music is so, so good.

Final rating: 9/10. Thank you, Draw Distance, you hit it out of the park.

#vampire the masquerade #vtm shadows of new york #ry plays sony

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autumnsart22 · 4 years

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Oikawa x Reader ch. 4

I had no idea what to do.

It had been three weeks since I joined Aoba Johsai, and things were starting to fall into a rhythm. I went to class, and although the school was larger than I was used to, I easily stayed on top of all the work despite getting extra to catch up. I visited Karasuno as often as I could, almost twice a week to see the whole team. Also, Kiyoko’s house was closer to Aoba Johsai than my own, so I used the excuse to sleep over there almost every night.

But despite that, I was bored and lonely. Studying wasn’t enough to keep me occupied, and now that I wasn’t the manager of Karasuno, I had large amounts of extra time with nothing to fill it.

Such was the case on the Saturday morning after the second week at Aoba Johsai. Kiyoko was at a practice game against one of the other schools in the Miyagi prefecture, and I had already finished most of my homework. I had decided to pull out some of my old sketchbooks from under my bed, which had grown dusty from me not using them, deciding to try and pick back up my old hobby.

I’d stopped all kinds of art a few years ago, after my parents had a sit down talk with me about success. Before that, I had imagined that maybe I could make a bit of money by designing logos or web pages for businesses and companies, but my parents made it clear that would never be an option.

But I was bored now, so the sketchbooks were laid out on the table and the pencils were sharpened. Unfortunately, I was a perfectionist who was out of practice and without any inspiration. I ended up breaking two of my nice pencils out of frustration, and decided to go on a run to cool my head.

It was pretty early in the morning, only 8:30, and mist lay heavy in the air. It was good weather for running, cold enough that I wasn’t overheating as I jogged.

I definitely wasn’t the most athletic person, although I wasn’t out of shape either. My body was curvy, not particularly muscly in any way, but I wasn’t fat. I had major body insecurities like every other girl in existence, but I had been working on it to try and like myself better recently.

Either way, I was out of breath after only a few minutes of running, but I kept a steady pace, and focused on the rhythm of the music pounding through my headphones instead of the pain in my side.

After jogging for almost twenty minutes through town, I finally allowed myself to slow to a walk as I approached a street. The road was busy, so I hit the button for the crosswalk and gave myself a minute of recovery.

I almost jumped out of my skin as a voice spoke from behind me out of the blue.

“Hey there, are you the new student at Aoba Johsai?”

I turned and felt my heart practically stop. The boy that stood a foot away was tall with messy brown hair falling around his head, his figure lean with muscle but not very bulky. He was one of the prettiest people I had ever seen. I guessed that he had been on a run too, but unlike me, he didn’t look the slightest bit out of breath.

“Oh um,” I realized I had forgotten to respond. “Yes I am. Do I know you?”

“Nope. Not yet,” He smirked, and I fought a blush. What was with this guy?

“Uh, ok. Well I have to go…” Thankfully, the light turned, and I awkwardly turned away. He didn’t say anything, but I could feel him watching me as I jogged across the street and headed back home.

That night, I sat on Kiyoko’s bed, legs across her lap. Apparently Karasuno had lost the practice match, but only by two points. The team was improving all the time, with every practice and every game.

According to Kiyoko, the boys had been upset that I wasn’t allowed to come to the practice game, which made me feel a bit happy. It was nice to be missed.

“What did you do today?” Kiyoko asked, glasses flashing as she leaned over to plug her phone into a charger.

“Literally nothing. Went for a run, attempted and failed at drawing, finished my homework.” I sighed. I didn’t mention the boy I had run into while I was out, but I had been thinking about the awkward encounter the whole day, each time making me more and more embarrassed. I had definitely been rude. I hadn’t even asked for his name!

He hadn’t asked for mine either, I reminded myself, but at least he had talked like a normal person. I had just stuttered, which I always did when I got uncomfortable. Ah well.

“Y/n-san, you should become Seijoh’s manager.”

At first I wasn’t sure I heard her right. “Huh?” Kiyoko sighed, pushing up her glasses. “You love volleyball just as much as me, and clearly you’re going out of your mind with boredom. I think it would be good for you.”

“But-but Aoba Johsai is in direct competition to Karasuno! They’re our enemy!”

Kiyoko rolled her eyes. “Y/n, honestly. That’s not an excuse for you not to join. Yeah, you’ll probably have to play against us, but it's not like you’ll become our enemy.”

I sighed, shoulders slumping. “Maybe I’ll just go to a practice and see what the team is like, and decide from there.”

My friend shrugged and nodded. “That sounds good. You have to tell me how it goes.”

✨✨✨✨

On Monday, I went to the front office to ask about Seijoh’s volleyball club. Apparently they met after school for two hours every weekday except for Monday, as well as every other Saturday. It was a lot, but Karasuno did even more, so I knew I would be able to handle it.

I had to ask a few people for directions about how to get to the gym, but I managed to get there before practice had officially started. I could hear shoes squeaking on the floor when I arrived, which made me pause. I hated being the only new person, especially when entering such a tight knit group like a volleyball team. My social anxiety always made things awkward.

I took a deep breath, reminding myself that the boys would most likely be too busy to notice me, and I just had to go talk to the coach.

I shoved open the doors, sliding into the gym and quickly surveying the space. It was way bigger than Karasuno’s gym, the equipment clearly better quality due to their higher budget.

I expected a few of the team members to be there early, maybe doing simple spikes against the wall to warm up. Unfortunately for me, the entire team was already dressed and gathered around the coach. As the gym doors slammed closed behind me, they all looked over as I walked in.

I felt all the blood rush to my face, and I awkwardly crossed my arms and stood off to the side as the coach finished talking. I noticed a few of the boys muttering to each other and gesturing at me, which only made my stomach twist. Thankfully, the coach sent them on lunging laps pretty quickly, which kept them from hanging around.

“Oikawa, not you!” The coach yelled, gesturing at one of the boys. “Your knee isn’t fully healed yet and I don’t want you to reinjure it.”

Oikawa, the team captain and setter, I remembered. The arrogant one that Kageyama didn’t like. My mouth fell open when he turned around.

It was the same guy from my run, who had asked me if I was the new student. I felt my entire body tense, and I quickly looked away from him. Damn, this had been a bad idea.

“Aw coach, come on! At least let me do something,” Oikawa said, practically pouting.

“You can do some stretches over there,” the coach said with an annoyed look.

The setter grinned, and then he looked at me. His eyebrows went up in surprise as he recognized me, and I smiled awkwardly before quickly turning towards the coach. No need to interact more than necessary.

“Hi, can I help you?” The coach was looking at me imploringly, and I quickly bowed.

“Yes, my name is Y/n L/n, and I was looking to see if you had any need of a new team manager. I have some experience from my last school, and I would love to get involved here.”

The coach looked surprised, but then he smiled. “You have the most perfect timing. Our official team manager just quit, so we were looking for someone to take over. You would need to fill out some paperwork and figure out if you’re eligible, but if you want to stay for today and see how it fits, that would work out great.”

“Ok! Thank you so much.”

“Of course. I’m Coach Nobuteru, and over there is our team captain, Oikawa Toru. Oikawa!”

I turned around, only to see the tall setter making his way over to us. He grinned down at me, eyes trailing over my body and back up. “Hi again, new girl.” “Oikawa,” the coach said. “This is Y/n L/n. She’s looking to become our new team manager.” Coach Nobuteru spoke for me, and I bowed quickly.

“It’s nice to meet you officially, Y/n-kun.” Oikawa said, bowing back. He looked clearly surprised that I was looking into the manager position, which annoyed me a bit. I wondered what he thought of me.

“Yes, it’s nice to meet you as well, Oikawa-san.”

“Oikawa, why don’t you get back to work?” Coach Nobuteru said after a moment.

The team captain nodded, smirking at me one more time before heading back over to where his team were finishing their laps.

I watched the practice on the sideline with Coach Nobuteru, assessing the players and trying to determine who needed to work on what. I asked the coach a lot of questions about names and strengths, and he looked at me with new respect as he seemed to realize that I actually did have experience with volleyball.

It was obvious that Oikawa knew his team extremely well, and I couldn’t help but admire the way he encouraged them, capitalizing on their strengths. They worked like a well oiled machine, unlike anything Karasuno had ever managed to do, even though I didn’t want to admit it.

The strength between Iwaizumi Hajime, the team’s ace, and Oikawa was almost unbelievable. They knew what the other was intending without effort, and they seemed to work in sync to slam one quick attack after the other over the net. The only relationship I had seen that could compare was that of Hinata and Kageyama.

At the end of the practice, Coach Nobuteru directed me to the club office, where I could get the paperwork to officially become the team manager. As I left the gym, I felt the best I had for a long time. The energy from watching the team play volleyball made me feel light and happy, like I had a purpose again. It was definitely nerve racking to have to learn the names, strengths and weaknesses, preferences, and relationships of the entire team, but it was also exciting. I would do my best to be as good a manager of Seijoh as I was of Karasuno.

Chapter 3

Chapter 5

#oikawa tooru #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa fluff #oikawa #oikawa torū #oikawa x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #fanfic #fandom #simp

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rachel-rebellio · 4 years

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Autumn is the Best Time of Year

part 1

It was a crisp autumn, November 3rd to be precise, and y/n was trying to distract herself from her post-Halloween depression the best way she knew how. She was tired of the typical Southern California sun and fires, so she decided to get in her car and drive up to Big Bear so she could see the autumn colours she had grown to love so much. She took in the sights as she slowly drove ‘round the lake with the windows down, letting the fresh mountain air hit her face and fill her lungs. She pulled into the Big Bear Village to bum through some of her favourite shops and get a bite to eat at a local restaurant.

As she was wandering through town, she came across an art gallery that hadn’t been open on her previous trips. Being a lover of art, y/n quickly wiped the wet leaves off her boots and fixed her beanie to better sit on her head. It was a small gallery, but it was showcasing multiple local artists from all over Big Bear City. The pieces were all beautifully done, but one in particular caught y/n’s eye. It was an oil painting of the lake surround by autumn foliage with the sun gleaming off the water. She had seen that sight plenty of times, but this artist brought a whole new perspective to it.

Y/n stood admiring the painting for several minutes when someone bumped into her. She quickly turned around saying, “Oh, I’m so sorry! Was I in your way?” just as this stranger also turned around saying, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there, are you okay?” Y/n was taken aback by handsome stranger when their eyes met. She was just as tall as he was, but it still felt like she had to look up to make eye contact. He made her feel small in the best way.

“Hey, have we met before?” Y/n asked.

“I don’t think so. I would’ve remembered a face as beautiful as yours.” He said, causing y/n to break eye contact so she could look down and try to hide her cheeks flushing red. Y/n looked up after a couple moments and said, “Well, my name is y/n. It’s nice to meet you-“

“…Ma-Matthew. My name is Matthew.” He said, stumbling over his words through a chuckle to fill the silence where y/n trailed off.

“I love that name. So, are you a big fan of the arts Matthew?”

“Yeah! I’m actually a little bit of an artist myself! I published a book that I wrote and illustrated about a green monster named Rumple Buttercup.”

“Whoa, really? That’s so cool!”

“What about you? Are you a big art fan?”

“I love it! I’m a black and grey portrait artist, myself. I love drawing people.”

“I bet you’re amazing. I’d love to see your work sometime!”

“I definitely have room for improvement, but I’m a lot better than I was when I started a few years back. I’m totally self-taught; so it’s been a bit of a slow process.” Y/n said, trying not to sound too self-deprecating right away.

“So, what caught your eye about this piece?” Matthew asked y/n in an attempt to keep the conversation going.

“Well, I’ve been up here so many times. I like to come up here and enjoy the colours of my favourite season every early November to try and help my post-Halloween depression. I’m not ready for Christmas quite yet and Halloween is my favourite holiday, so I need some time between. But, I don’t know. This painting just captured a scene I’ve personally seen so many times, but in a brand new light; and their colour theory? Are you kidding me? So good! Autumn is my favourite season, so it’s not too often that I find something that allows me to see it in a new light and through a different lens. I’m so sorry, I’m just rambling at this point. What about you? Do you like it?” Y/n asked, blushing and nervously playing with her hair as she looked over and saw Matthew paying full attention to every word she was saying.

“I haven’t been here many times, but I love their use of colour and the blending of the oil paints. Oil always gives it that nice gleam and blend to the colours.” Matthew said with a smile, physically pointing out the things he was talking about. Y/n couldn’t help but notice how beautiful his hands were as they gestured about and pointed to specific details as he talked. She could have listened to him talk passionately about anything for hours on end without ever getting tired of hearing his voice. Suddenly, Matthew turned to y/n, who was watching him closely even after he finished talking, and said, “I’m sorry if this is too forward, but would you like to get some coffee or cider with me? I saw a little coffee shop just down the street.”

Y/n tried to hide her excitement and answered as calmly as she could, “I would love that. I could always go for some hot apple cider.” Matthew walked with y/n out of the gallery, holding the door open for her on their way out. She couldn’t fathom what was happening; guys never paid attention to her, let alone a guy who looked like this. His brown, curly hair was just long enough to curl over his forehead and ears, barely touching his neck. His glasses framed his face so well and were large enough that you could see his brown eyes that crinkled nearly closed whenever he smiled his smile that was so warm and inviting. On the way to the coffee shop, they made small talk about some of their favourite artists.

They walked up to the counter to order heir drinks but when y/n pulled out her wallet to pay for her own, Matthew placed his hand on hers and said, “Hey now, getting cider was my idea, I got you covered.”

Y/n smirked at him and said, “Fine. But the next one’s on me.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Matthew said with a quiet smirk right back at her as she, in that moment, wondered if there would even be a next time. Once they got their drinks, they went outside and saw that the fireplace had been lit, so they decided to sit on one of the benches next to it to enjoy their drinks and talk. It was now around 5p.m. and the sun had started to set so the autumn leaves looked even more beautiful in the olden light. Matthew and y/n were sipping their respective drinks and talking about how they celebrated Halloween after finding out that it was both of their favourite holidays. He went as Vincent Price and y/n was convinced she would never beat that costume, as Vincent Price was easily one of her favourite actors of all time. Y/n was about to finally admit what her costume was when Matthew quickly scooped up some of the leaves and dumped them on y/n’s head.

Y/n gasped, set down her apple cider, and said, “Ohhh, you’re on. I declare war!” as she scooped up an even bigger pile of leaves to throw at him. The two of them threw leaves at each other until Matthew wrapped y/n up in a one-armed hug, pinning her against him so he could take off her beanie off and continue dropping leaves on her head until she yielded. Laughing, y/n tapped Matthew’s arm saying, “Okay! Fine! I yield! Have Mercy!” which caused Matthew to also laugh until he fell to the side, still holding onto y/n. While lying on the ground, he looked to her and said, “Well that was fun hon! I always appreciate a woman who can hold her own in a leaf fight.”

Y/n shook her head at him before grabbing one last handful of leaves to throw at him and then stood to her feet yelling, “Victory is mine!”

“Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be?! Fine, you win this time.” Matthew said, standing to his feet and raising his hands in defeat which caused them to both start laughing as they picked leaves out of each other’s hair.

“I really didn’t think this weather through.” Y/n stated, starting to shiver. “I had such a one track mind about coming up here that I was stupid and forgot a jacket… and this flannel really isn’t doing the job. Mind if we step into the shop across the street so I can get a jacket?”

“Here, you can wear mine, if you don’t mind the possibility of it clashing with your flannel.”

“Not at all, but aren’t you going to be cold?”

“Nah, I’m fine. Maybe you could hold my hand to keep me warm.” Matthew remarked, trying his best to be smooth; although it may have come across as more awkward than savvy.

“Now there’s a nifty idea huh?”

“I try.” Matthew said with a chuckle in his voice. Y/n accepted the offer to wear his jacket and when she put it on, she noticed three things.

1. It was still warm from him wearing it.

2. It smelled amazing.

3. There was a single ping pong ball in the left pocket.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly do you have a ping pong ball in your pocket for?” Y/n asked, pulling the ball from the pocket.

“Oh, so one thing you don’t know about me is that I’m actually a magician. Here, I’ll show you a trick!” Matthew practically yelled in excitement.

Y/n handed him the ping pong ball and Matthew knelt down in front of her saying, “Okay, now watch closely.”

Y/n did as she was told and watched as Matthew’s hands showed her the ping pong ball and encased it. He held his hand out to her and said, “Okay, now blow on it.”

Confused, but eager, Y/n blew on the small white ball. Matthew made a weird noise and said, “My turn now.” and blew on it before making yet another weird noise. Y/n started laughing, but kept watching closely as Matthew opened his hands to reveal the ping pong ball had disappeared.

“Whoa! That’s so cool! Where is it?” Y/n gasped through her smile, wanting to know how it was done.

“Check the pocket again.”

“What- wait… HOW?” Y/n exclaimed as she pulled the small ball back out of the jacket pocket.

“Nope! Nu-uh. A true magician never reveals his secrets.” Matthew explained with a smirk on his face and his arms folded.

“What about an amateur magician? Can he reveal his secrets?” Y/n asked, smirking right back at him. Matthew looked shocked at her response before dramatically pretending to be deeply hurt by her calling him an amateur.

“I’m sorry! I had to! Forgive me?” Y/n asked, giving Matthew her best please face.

“I guess.” Matthew said, pouting. “But you’re going to have to make it up to me for that remark little miss.”

Y/n asked hesitantly, but also very excitedly, “Oh? What did you have in mind?”

#Autumn is the Best Time of Year #aitbtoy #matthew gray gubler #fic #matthew gray gubler x reader #mgg #mgg x reader #my fic #my writing #fanfiction #matthew gray gubler fic #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #mgg fic #mgg fanfiction #criminal minds #cm #spencer reid #please don't let this flop

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that-house · 4 years

Text

Hey so I hit 100 followers today!

Buckle up, this is gonna be a LOOOONG post.

I quite honestly expected it (while my ego is a little smaller than my jokes make it out to be it is definitely present), I didn’t expect it to happen so fast.

It’s not an insane milestone, plenty of people have 100 followers. A hefty portion of my followers are bigger than me. But it’s still important to me. Knowing that there’s 100 people out there who enjoy my shit makes me happy.

First and foremost the credit quite honestly has to go to ahegao George Washington. No, I’m not joking. Until I posted on r/tumblr about my desire to draw that, I had 0 followers. I jumped to like 10 overnight, which was awesome. And then those new followers helped me spread my posts and get more attention.

Secondly I’d like to shoutout @imaverysadgirl and @themeaninglessjumble. You two were my first real tumblr frens. You were the first of my followers to really interact with me. Ember, I’m super happy you’re alive to see me hit 100 followers. Jumble (I don’t know your name unless I forgot it), your art and creations are great and you deserve way more attention.

To all the rest of you, you guys are great, too. Every new follower makes me happy. I’d say I don’t deserve you all, but my colossal ego says I do. Regardless, being nemesi and getting called out for being horny on main and sending and receiving asks has made this last month or so great.

Finally, for all the shit it gets, and for all the shit it pulls, [tumblr] really is pretty dope. I got to meet you all, and it’s actively making me a better person by exposing me to groups of people I’d rarely interact with in real life.

Why does it feel like I’m saying goodbye? I’m not, don’t worry. I plan to stay, and neither death nor pain shall drive me from this hellsite. I’m just saying thanks.

Now with the thanks out of the way, I want to talk about myself a little. Just the stuff that I’ve always wanted to say and never quite gathered my thoughts and found the time to talk about.

You’re gonna get to know me so well! This is like a mini autobiography!

First off, my mental health. This is something I don’t talk about much on this blog, mostly because it doesn’t need much talking about. I’m doing pretty well, to be honest. I have a smattering of anxiety and I’m maybe a little too introverted for my own good, but I’m not suffering from depression and the only time I ever even remotely considered suicide was when I just really really didn’t want to go to French class. COVID has been great for me, since I don’t have to see people. I suppose I’m not a great person to talk to if you’re struggling with depression or suicidal thoughts, seeing as I can’t personally relate, but I’m still always here for you guys if you need me. Just because I haven’t lived through your experiences doesn’t mean I can’t try to help.

Next up I want to talk about my sexuality. This one’s a bit of a mystery. For the past 16 years of my life I’ve considered myself 100% straight. But lately (let’s be honest, following the release of Spirit Blossom Thresh) I’ve been wondering if I might be bi. How many times can I joke about wanting to smash sexy boys before it’s not really a joke anymore? And if I am, a lot of things would suddenly make a lot of sense. But every time I think I have it figured out it suddenly feels like I have no clue what’s going on. Regardless, my sexuality has honestly never been a massive part of my identity (though I’m definitely not asexual, my friends can attest I’m far too horny for that). I have no clue if I’m bi and for now it’s kind of a fun little adventure!

I guess I’ll talk about school and stuff now. Believe it or not, I’m kinda smart. I’m taking a shitton of AP courses this year. But I simultaneously feel like it’s too much and not enough. I’m smart, but I’m not a great student. Compared to my dad, who graduated college with a 3.98 GPA (and his only B being in History of Canada as an American) and now has a super well-paying government STEM job that he loves, I feel like even if I work my ass off I’ll never quite measure up. And my parents have had super high expectations of me, and it’s only recently that they’ve started to accept that I might get some B’s here and there. I’m worried about all the homework this year. I’m a year ahead in Math but I don’t feel good enough at math to be taking AP calculus junior year. I’m worried I’m going to get like a C. But for the most part school is alright, too. That’s sort of the trend in my life. Everything’s alright.

Time to talk about my love life! I have no love life! I’ve been single for 17 years and probably stand no chance of changing that until at least college! Haha I’m so alone! But I can live with it. Growing up an only child with a few friends means that I’m pretty good at functioning without a ton of social interaction, and, while I’d like a partner someday, I’m not desperate. I can wait until I find someone. Pretty much my goal is not to die alone.

Onto sports maybe? I played soccer for most of my life, and was always the worst player on the select team. I was too good for the normal team and not good enough for the select team (kinda like math). Soccer was really toxic, especially when you’re the worst player on a team of high school jock drug addict boys. So I quit, and started playing frisbee! It’s a lot better. The people are nicer! But my first season never happened because of COVID and now I’m in my Junior year and haven’t played much frisbee! So I kinda suck! But I’m physically fit and that’s good enough for me! On my own time I bike and run to stay in shape.

Are you still with me? Now I’m gonna talk about my hobbies and things!

I’ve been playing video games for a long time. I kinda suck at them to be totally honest. I probably have below-average reaction time, and my parents only let me play 15 minutes a day for most of my childhood, so I have a lot less practice than most of my friends. I’m pretty slick with Swain in LoL tho.

This next part is borderline shameless self-promotion, but since the Kickstarter isn’t live yet I guess it doesn’t count. I’m making a tabletop role playing game! I’ve been working on it for the past few years. My goal is to launch the Kickstarter prior to my college applications, because that’ll look sexy as fuck to potential colleges. It’s a post-apocalyptic sci-fi game where you play as supersoldiers trying to reconquer the wastelands of Earth for humanity. I’ll do a big post on it when I launch the Kickstarter, and I guess that’ll also be a full name reveal (kinda spooky since my full name is ENTIRELY unique and one-of-a-kind. More ego boost lmao).

And finally I want to talk about my art and writing. I’ll start with my drawing, and finish off with my writing, since that’s what I’d most like to be known for on here (but that’ll never happen because my caveman brain shitposts are too funny).

So I’ve been doodling for a long time. I briefly got formal art training but sacrificing my Saturday mornings to draw what someone else wanted me to make so that I could make better stuff in the future didn’t appeal to my 8-year-old brain. I draw in the margins of worksheets. I draw on random sheets of paper. Recently my parents bought me a drawing tablet, and I’ve been trying to improve at digital art. I’d say I’m getting better, but I don’t practice nearly enough. All in all my art serves its purpose. It makes people laugh and can sometimes creep people out. It’ll never go in a museum, and I’ll never make money off of it but whatever.

And finally, my writing.

How can I talk about writing without talking about reading? I’ve likely read more books than both my parents combined, and if not, it’s close (and my mom is a prolific reader too). I have three bookshelves in my room and books on every surface. You can’t follow me for long without seeing a post ranting about my latest read. I love to read and I read incredibly fast. Reading spurred my love of English class, which in turn helped me write.

And finally, we get to writing in and of itself. I’ve been writing stories since I was a little kid. I’d like to think I’ve improved a fair bit. I’m still no novelist, but I consider myself a fairly adept short story writer.

But I suppose where my writing really stems from is my bed. Every night while I’m lying in bed, I tell myself stories until I fall asleep. I work on a story until it’s done or until I get bored of it. Along the way, in the shower, on my bike, I build the world of the story, crafting the plot. Sometimes the stories are elaborate fanfictions of my latest reads. That’s probably how they started. Often, they’re unique worlds all of their own. My current writing posts are about the City of Mammon, but my current story in my head is about some vampires who hunt other vampires in Victorian England.

And now we get into the process of writing. It’s fun! I sit myself down with an idea in my head, and use all the fancy words I picked up from my books to convey the vibes I want. I honestly wouldn’t be a great writing teacher. It’s just a skill that comes naturally to me as a result of what I’ve been doing with my free time my whole life. And it’s beautiful. And every time someone compliments my writing or reblogs it, I love writing just a little bit more.

Well I guess this is it. The 100 follower special. I wonder how many of you guys will take the time out of your day to read this. Hopefully a lot!

James (or That House) signing off for the night!

<3 thanks guys

#100 followers special

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quickspinner · 5 years

Text

Motorcycle Fairy Part 3 (end)

Part 1 | Part 2

Also available on AO3

His mother had taught him to throw caution to the winds, to take a chance and seize the moment, to care for no one’s opinion and to chase his own happiness.

She hadn’t, however, given him much of an education in the art of the cover story.

Luka pulled up to the campground without a single clue as to what he was going to say if—hopefully when—he ran into Marinette. He hadn’t exactly rushed to get there. He wasn’t a morning person in general and he’d decided to take the scenic route, hoping the familiar ride would help ground him. He’s come to see races here enough times that no one at home even questioned him about his impromptu road trip, which was a blessing. Juleka would never have let him hear the end of it.

The extra time hadn’t helped him, though, because when Luka pulled up to the parking lot next to the campsite and paid for a day pass, he still had no idea how he was going to explain showing up here in a way that wouldn’t sound obsessive or stalkerish or like he was totally smitten and absolutely not willing to trust fate to bring them together a third time. It was true that he loved motorcycle racing and he always enjoyed the energy at Le Mans, but...he really wanted to see Marinette again.

Luka took off his riding gear and stowed it, dusting off his ripped black jeans and deciding he wouldn’t need his leather jacket. He nervously tugged down the hem of his navy blue t-shirt and then looked around, knees feeling rather weak and butterflies in his stomach as he tried to figure out his next move. Ugh, he was a wreck. Just chill, he told himself, getting out his guitar and sitting back on his bike to tune it, just to calm his nerves. Just enjoy the day and whatever happens, happens. Gina’s in the races, so probably Marinette will be in the stands somewhere so I’ll need to walk over there...

He breathed, and focused for a moment on his pick slipping slowly down the strings, each one now perfectly in tune, and just as the last note faded he heard a familiar laugh. Luka looked up, his heart suddenly in his throat. Apparently fate wasn’t too mad at him for his lack of confidence because there she was.

And...wow, she looked so good. She’d taken his advice and improved on it. Her skinny jeans had leather panels with pink piping running up the sides. A low-slung chain belt hung from her hips and her hair was back in what probably started as a sleek french braid. The slight ruffling and flyaway hairs just softened the otherwise devastating line from her jaw down her bare neck to her shoulders. She’d ditched her jacket somewhere along the way; she wore only a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. Luka swallowed as the guy she was with leaned in, but Marinette just smiled and put her hand on his chest, pushing him back, and apparently saying goodbye as she walked away from him.

Luka forgot about the other guy when she turned and he saw that the collar was cut too, into a modest V over her chest, not deep enough to actually show anything but more than enough to expose her collarbones and a very appealing expanse of skin. Her sweet face was the same but she looked so much more mature than he’d ever seen her and very, very hot.

Marinette seemed oblivious to the heads she was turning as she strolled, hips naturally swaying on the uneven ground. Her eyes were on a book in the crook of her arm and she had a look of concentration on her face as she tapped a pencil thoughtfully to her lips.

No more time for thinking. Time for action. Luka took a breath, shifting so that he leaned as casually as possible against the seat of his bike, and played the song he’d been playing when she’d surprised him at the shop.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her head whip around towards him, and it was work to keep his smile from giving him away. His heart leapt in his chest as she turned and made her way towards him and shit, he still didn’t know what he was going to say, but screw it, he was good at winging it, right?

“Luka,” she called cheerfully, waving. “Wow, I didn’t think I’d see you here!”

Luka could feel the eyes on him as he lifted his head and smiled at her. “Hey, Marinette. I was hoping I’d catch you sometime today. Yeah, my plans got cancelled and I didn’t have anything else to do, so I thought...why not a road trip?” He shrugged, and grinned, looking her up and down with considerably less intensity than he had when she wasn’t watching. “You look good.”

“Good?” she pouted, as he rather thought she would.

“Better than good,” he winked. “Way better. But I don’t think you need me to tell you that,” he added, leaning back slightly to look pointedly at a group of young men behind her. Marinette turned to follow his gaze and blushed deeply when all but one of the group suddenly became very interested in looking elsewhere. The bold one gave her a slow up and down look and a wink.

Marinette put her nose in the air and turned back to Luka, still red-faced. “Maybe,” she said, shrugging one shoulder and damn, her arms were really toned, he suddenly realized. He hadn’t noticed before because her build was so slender but now that he was looking, the girl had some guns. “But I’d still rather hear it from you.”

That put a grin on his face that he couldn’t have kept back if he tried. “Where’s your grandma?” he asked, glancing around. “You’re not by yourself are you?”

“Oh, she’s over at the track buttering up the pit crew,” Marinette said brightly. “I got kind of bored; the tech talk doesn’t interest me the way it probably would you, but I remembered what you said about the bikes over here so I thought I’d take a walk and come look around. I didn’t think I’d find you, though.”

“Well, I hope it’s a good surprise,” Luka said, looking down at his guitar and plucking a string idly just out of nerves. “I was kind of hoping to run into you. I’d love to hang out with you if you’d like to, but if you’d rather not, that’s cool too. I’m not trying to crash your day if you’d rather do your own thing.”

Marinette’s cheeks pinked and she seemed to have a little trouble meeting his gaze for a moment. “Well, if you didn’t have any other plans, then...yeah, I’d love some company. Your company,” she added hastily, and then blushed redder, looking away.

“I’d love to give it to you,” he grinned. “What were your plans?”

“Nothing specific,” Marinette shrugged, and his eyes went to the line of her shoulders again. “I was just doing some sketching and then I thought I’d wander back over a little bit before the race started.

“Oh, awesome, can I see?” Luka asked, and she looked up, eyes brightening.

“You want to?”

“Yeah, your stuff is amazing.” Luka slid over, making what little room he could for her to come lean next to him. “I’d love to see if that’s okay.”

Marinette smiled shyly. “Okay. Just, keep in mind I’m not that experienced at drawing cars and things.”

Luka spared a glance back at the other group of guys as Marinette came and leaned one hip on the bike seat, leaning over to show him her book. He couldn’t resist a smirk when he locked eyes with the one guy, who now looked rather sour.

They chatted about her sketches, Luka identifying the bikes for her to her delight, and he played a little music for her, and then her phone alarm rang out.

“Oh, it’s almost time for Grandma’s race,” she said, pulling the phone out of the back pocket of her jeans (God he really wanted to be that phone all of a sudden) to silence it. “I have to get back to the track.”

“I’ll walk with you,” Luka said, straightening up and failing to not watch her slip the phone back in her pocket. “Just let me lock up.”

She exclaimed over the custom case he had mounted to the side of his bike as he put his guitar back in it and locked it shut.

“It cost me a ridiculous amount of money,” Luka admitted, “But it’s a must. I don’t go anywhere without at least one guitar.”

That started another conversation as they began the walk to the racetrack, and he told her about how he’d grown up playing music and what he liked about his different guitar, and she talked about the types of music she liked, and he got to ask her more about working with Jagged and found she’d been a fan even before he was a client.

Marinette ignored the whistles and catcalls as they walked, so Luka did too, though he walked a little closer to her and tried to stay between her and the worst offenders when the crowd got close. One man put a hand on her, but Marinette brought her boot solidly down on his instep without missing a step and kept walking, grabbing Luka’s arm to keep him from turning and giving the guy a piece of his mind. She kept her hand curled around his bicep for the rest of the walk, and Luka wasn’t sure whether it was for his comfort or hers. He wasn’t about to complain though. (He would, however, go to his grave before he’d admit maybe flexing a little bit under her hand.)

They got to the stands and Marinette had a spot right at the rail waiting for her, and Luka was able to put himself between her and the rest of the crowd.

The races were the best kind—friendly but absolutely cutthroat—and not only was Marinette sweet, pretty, talented, and smart, she was fun and Luka was having the time of his life. The nervous babbling was cute and all but listening to her trash talk the competition was hilarious. Once he had to grab her around the waist because she heard someone insult her grandmother and he was afraid she was about to leap the rail and run onto the track to give them a piece of her mind. Her elbow whipped back into his gut mercilessly and she spent the next five minutes in horrified apologies while he tried to convince his lungs to inhale again.

“You weren’t kidding about being able to take care of yourself,” he said when he felt less like he was moments away from death.

“I am so, so sorry,” Marinette said for the fiftieth time, clutching his arm. “I’m so sorry, it was just a reflex—”

“Stop apologizing,” Luka sighed, rubbing his abdomen. “It was my fault, I had no right to grab onto you like that and you have every right to react that way if someone touches you in a way you don’t like.”

“But I wouldn’t have minded if I had realized, I just—I got caught up in the moment and I forgot you were with me.”

“Aw, that hurts, Marinette,” Luka said with affected sadness. “Way more than the hit.”

“No, no, that’s not what I—here they come!” She shoved him aside and pushed against the rail, screaming and jumping up and down.

Gina’s bright red bike was easy to spot, trapped behind two others that clearly had some kind of agreement to block her. Luka’s mouth fell open and he cheered just as loud as Marinette when Gina, apparently cool as a cucumber, nipped neatly through a space no one would have thought she could fit through and took the lead. They zipped around the curve and back out of sight again.

“Your grandma’s a badass, Marinette,” Luka grinned. “Wow.” He nudged her with his shoulder. “Guess it runs in the family.”

Marinette giggled. “Wait until you meet my mom.” Luka looked at her in surprise and her eyes got round as she stared back at him, and her mouth did too, and then she was sputtering. “I didn’t mean—not that you would want to—not like if we were—“

Luka had to laugh, he couldn’t help it. “I gotta warn you,” he said, “My standards are kind of high. My mom’s pretty badass herself.” He glanced up at the board as the racers whipped by again, Gina still in the lead. “Last lap.”

Marinette cheered and screamed as the racers came back into view, but the crowd was going wild and she was kind of tiny. Luka glanced around and made a quick decision.

“Come stand in front of me,” he told her, guiding her into place. “Keep your back to me. Put your hands in mine...no, like this.” He gave her quick instructions and she looked back over her shoulder at him in surprise. He grinned. “Trust me. On three.” She faced forward and Luka bent his legs. “One...two...three!”

Marinette jumped and put her weight on her arms in his hands as Luka straightened and pushed her up. She yelped in surprise at the height and the speed, but managed to get her feet on his shoulders.

Forgot about the boots, Luka thought ruefully, gripping her calves and pulling down to stabilize her.

Marinette wasted no time screaming “THAT’S MY NONNA!” at the top of her lungs and waving her hands wildly as Gina whipped across the finish line in front of them. She pulled off her helmet and turned to wave wildly at Marinette, a huge grin on her face!

Marinette cheered again and laughed, waving back with both hands, and Luka grinned. He squeezed Marinette’s calfs in warning, and then bent his legs and popped her up, catching her by the waist as she came down. She didn’t quite manage to come down straight and she stumbled as she landed, but Luka kept his grip on her waist until she was steady. Then she turned and hugged him. “Thanks Luka! That was amazing! I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Luka chuckled breathlessly and hugged her back. “Nah,” he said, and it was mostly true; the burn in his arms wasn’t her fault—though the lingering pain in his abs kinda was. “Been a while since I did that,” he said, letting her go and rolling his shoulders. “You followed my lead like a pro, though.”

Marinette tilted her head and quirked up one shoulder, smiling up at him. “Guess being a badass runs in your family too.” She brushed some dirt off the shoulder of his navy t-shirt and her gaze followed her fingers as they ghosted along the muscle of his arm before her hand dropped.

Luka grinned, suddenly feeling no pain. “Shall we go find Gina?” he suggested, and Marinette agreed brightly. She grabbed his hand, and Luka was so gone, so totally in love with this gorgeous contradiction of a girl that he wasn’t sure his feet actually touched the ground as they wormed through the crowd.

Marinette dropped his hand to throw her arms around Gina. Luka hung back, sticking his hands in his pockets, suddenly not particularly eager to meet the older woman’s sharp eyes.

“Well, well, my little fairy, have you found a friend?” she asked, and he wasn’t quite sure how to read the tone of her accented voice.

“You remember Luka, from the shop?” Marinette beamed back at him, her hand curling around his arm, and Luka couldn’t help returning it, though his cheeks heated slightly. His heart was beating so hard he felt breathless, but somehow he managed to get enough air in his lungs to speak.

“Nice to see you again, ma’am,” he said to Gina. “That was an amazing race. You really earned that win.”

“Oh, he’s a charmer, this one,” Gina laughed, though she shook the hand he offered. “Well, I can hardly complain about such sincere flattery. Thank you my dear, I am just a little proud of that one.” She put her hand on Marinette’s head. “Well, my fairy, I am positively famished. Let me pack up my gear and we’ll find a nice spot for that picnic your father packed.”

His heart dropped from his throat to his stomach, but he tried to keep up his smile. “I guess that’s my cue,” Luka said reluctantly to Marinette as Gina turned to put her things away. “I had a really great time hanging out with you, Marinette.”

Marinette’s face fell. “You’re leaving?”

“Well, it sounds like you have plans and I don’t want to intrude—” he began, hoping to at least get her number before he had to leave.

“Oh, no, please have lunch with us,” Marinette said eagerly. “Papa always makes twice as much food as we need for everything, I’m sure there will be plenty. I mean—if you didn’t have plans. I know you probably have lots you want to see so if you’d rather not—”

“No, I—I’d like to.” Luka reached up and ruffled the back of his hair nervously as he glanced at Gina. “But if this is your time with your grandma, I don’t want to intrude…”

“Nonsense, dear,” Gina said, straightening and slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Marinetta is right, Tom will surely have packed more food than we need, and you are quite welcome to join us. Unless, as Marinette said, you had other plans?” There was something about her smile and the sly look she gave him that made his face heat.

“No, no plans,” he replied, barely managing not to squeak. He cleared his throat. “Um, if you ladies wouldn’t mind the walk back to the campground, there’s a picnic area over by the day parking.” He looked at Marinette. “Right where I parked, you remember? There were tables but I don’t recommend them, they’re pretty gross, but there’s a big grassy area that should have plenty of room and it’ll be quieter over there. Of course if you had something else in mind, that’s fine too, I’m flexible.”

“That sounds lovely, doesn’t it Marinetta?” Gina slung one arm around Marinette’s shoulders. “We will go have a nice picnic, and then come back and watch the afternoon races.” They stopped to drop off Gina’s bag and pick up their cooler, which Luka offered to carry, and the three of them made the walk to where Luka’s bike was parked. They were having lunch a little late, so they didn’t have any trouble finding a comfortable patch of grass to lay out a blanket.

“You were right,” Marinette smiled at him as she opened the cooler. “It’s much quieter over here.”

“Wow,” Luka said, staring as Marinette unpacked the food. “You weren’t kidding.”

“My Tom believes in expressing his love through food,” Gina said with amusement. “He gets that from his father. It does at least mean we have extra for new friends when we meet them.”

It was a very French meal, with several different kinds of bread and cheese, including brie and chevere that Marinette drizzled with honey, as well as fruit and other treats.

“Wow, this is great,” Luka commented. “This is all delicious.”

“My parents run a bakery,” Marinette told him. “Best macarons in Paris. Papa made all of this himself fresh this morning.”

“Wow,” Luka repeated. “Thanks for sharing it with me. Definitely a million times better than anything I could have scrounged up around here.”

Gina, as it turned out, was a lot of fun too. She really had travelled all over the world. Luka was no homebody himself and had been to a lot of places both with his family and alone, but Gina was on a whole other level. Her stories frequently had him in stitches, though Marinette’s rolled eyes when Gina wasn’t looking told him that their charm had long ago worn off on her.

She listened to his stories, however, with big eyes and eager ears, and asked Luka a lot of questions which he wasn’t at all opposed to answering.

“That’s so cool,” she sighed as he finished describing sea kayaking in the Northern Highlands of Scotland, where his mother’s family was from. “You both make me sound so boring.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Luka said, leaning back a little so he could look up at her. He was on his side, propped on one elbow with his long legs stretched out so that his boots were off the blanket. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng, designer for rockstars, rubbing elbows with supermodels and newscasters, taking the fashion world by storm one design contest at a time?” She blushed under his soft look. “Compared to you I’m just a hippy slacker with a guitar.”

Marinette brightened and she looked back towards his bike. “Your guitar! Can you play for us? If you don’t mind...I mean it’s okay if you don’t want to—”

“I always want to,” Luka chuckled, sitting up and grabbing a napkin to make sure his hands were clean. “I’d never stop if I had my way.” He looked at Gina, who waved him on before he could even ask, and pushed himself up to retrieve his guitar. He also brought his leather jacket back and offered it to Marinette. Some clouds had rolled in, bringing a light breeze, and she had goosebumps on her arms. She smiled gratefully at him and slipped it on and he had to keep his face turned away to hide his grin.

It was pretty close to heaven, sitting in the warm grass, comfortably full, with his guitar in his lap, playing whatever came to him. Whenever he looked up there was Marinette, with her sweet face and pretty eyes, enveloped in his jacket as she quietly cleaned up the remains of their picnic. When she finished, she moved over next to him, and without meaning to he looked up at her just at that moment, and their eyes caught and held, and he suddenly forgot what he was playing.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Luka shook his head without looking away.

“It’s fine,” he said, hands already beginning to play a new melody, soft and warm like fresh bread and honey, but crisp on his steel strings like the fresh air. “I think I like this one better.”

They stared at each other a moment longer and both jumped when Gina cleared her throat. Luka ripped his gaze away from Marinette and swallowed hard, glancing guiltily at Gina.

Gina studied him for a moment, and then Luka’s heart nearly stopped when she smirked at him. “I’ll be back in a little while,” she said, getting to her feet, and waved Marinette down as she started to get up. “No, no, darling, you stay with your friend, you will be bored trailing behind me talking to people you don’t know about things you aren’t interested in. You look so comfortable, just relax. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Are you sure, Grandma?” Marinette frowned. “You know I don’t mind what we do together.”

“I’m sure, my fairy, I want you to have a good time too. Don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it. You won’t even miss me.” She winked over Marinette’s head at Luka.

“That’s strange,” Marinette fretted. “Usually when she’s in town she sticks to me like glue. I hope I didn’t do anything to upset her.”

Luka chuckled through his nose, setting his guitar carefully aside on the blanket. “I don’t think that’s it.”

“You don’t think so?” Marinette sighed, still looking towards where Gina had gone.

Luka took a deep breath and swallowed his nerves. Deceptively casually, he leaned back on his hands and nudged his shoulder against hers. “Well, I might be wrong, but I kinda think she’s figured out that I’m crazy into you and she’s doing me a solid by ditching us for a few minutes so I can ask you out.”

The sudden dump of adrenaline in his veins made the next few moments seem like they were in slow motion. God, she was beautiful, swallowed up in his jacket, her short braid flying as she whipped her head around to look at him, lips parting in surprise, cheeks rapidly turning pink, and her eyes—he could get lost in those eyes forever, and right now they were huge, the thick lashes dark against her pale skin.

Outwardly, he remained calm, but his heart was pounding, his fingers curling tight in the grass to keep his hands from visibly shaking, and his breathing was shallow.

“R-really?” Marinette whispered, and Luka dared to shift his weight and raise one hand to capture a strand of hair that kept whipping across her lips and tuck it behind her ear.

“Yeah,” he said,careful to meet her eyes. “Really, Marinette. The more I learn about you, the more I want to know. You’re amazing and I really, really like you.”

“I...I don’t know what to say,” she whispered.

“Oh, well, there’s plenty of options,” Luka shrugged, trying to be casual. “‘I like you too, Luka.’ ‘Sorry, Luka, I don’t feel that way about you.’” He had to clear his throat to go on. “‘Wow, Luka, this is kind of unexpected, I think I need some time to process before I can really answer.’ ‘I’d rather just be friends, Luka.’ ‘Shut up and kiss me, Luka.’ Any of those, really.” He softened as he looked at her. “Whatever you want to say is fine, Marinette. I won’t get upset if it’s not the answer I’m hoping for. I just, I’ve never met anybody like you, and I’d hate myself if I didn’t take the shot.”

Marinette opened her mouth, and then closed it again, and bit her lip. “Well,” she said slowly, Luka hanging on every breath, though her dawning smile made his heart gallop even faster. “It’s definitely not the second one. The third one is c-close, maybe,” she looked down at her hands in her lap, where she was playing with her fingers nervously. “But...I think I’m going to go with the first one.”

“It’s a good one,” Luka said, voice shaky with sudden giddiness. He tried to steady as it went on. “My second favorite option, I’d say.”

Marinette gave him that blinding smile, like the sun bursting out from the clouds. “Shut up and kiss me, Luka.”

“Yes ma’am,” he breathed eagerly, leaning forward without hesitation to cup her cheek and turn her face so he could kiss her pretty lips. It was only supposed to be gentle and tender and befitting a first kiss, but Marinette grabbed his shirt and kissed him back, harder and deeper, and he was sure his soul departed his body in the moan that he let out. His senses were overwhelmed; the smell of leather and grass, the lingering taste of honey, the roar of the engines in the distance, her fingers brushing over his jaw and down his neck, and the warm, electric feel of her mouth moving against his as they kissed and kissed again.

He felt downright drunk when she finally let him go. “I’ve maybe wanted to do that for a while,” she said with a mischievous, if slightly embarrassed, smile. The admission and the sight of her reddened lips did absolutely nothing to help his composure. Marinette’s brow creased as she looked at his dazed expression. “Luka?”

Luka lifted one finger and laid back dizzily onto the grass, staring up into the sky as a completely idiotic grin spread over his face.

Marinette’s face appeared over him, framed by the collar of his jacket as her shoulders hunched up, and the grin only got wider. “Are you all right?” she asked.

“Nope,” he sighed. “I must be dead, because I just kissed an angel.”

Marinette’s face washed over with color, sweeping the worried look from her face. “I don’t think angels wear leather,” she giggled. Something else seemed to occur to her and her eyes twinkled down at him. “But maybe fairies do.”

Luka chuckled. “When bards fall in love with Scottish fairies it never ends well.”

Marinette’s mischievous smile sent a thrill through his entire body. “It’s a good thing I’m French then, isn’t it.”

“I’m enchanted, that’s for sure.” Luka gazed up at her. “You’re so beautiful, Marinette.”

Why that particular compliment startled her so, he couldn’t say, but her face disappeared from his view as she shot upright, turning red.

“What?” Luka asked, chuckling, as he rolled up onto his elbow.

“You can’t just say things like that!”

“Why not?” he laughed. “I’ve been thinking it since we met.” He reached over and slipped his hand over Marinette’s, brushing her fingers lightly with his until she let him lift it and tangle their fingers together.

“I’ve always thought you were pretty,” he told her, in a conspiratorial whisper that had her unconsciously leaning towards him. “But I have to say you look really good in leather. Especially my leather.”

Marinette made an inarticulate noise in her throat, looking at him wide-eyed and blushing so hard it was a wonder she hadn’t passed out. Luka grinned. “And you’re so talented,” he told her. “You’d think I was a stalker if you knew how much time I spent looking through your Instagram feed.” She made another squeak and he could actually see her pulse fluttering in her neck. “And sweet,” he added, inching a little closer. “At least half those things you made were for other people.”

She was totally speechless now, so overwhelmed Luka put his fingers on her cheek and murmured “Breathe, Marinette.”

Marinette drew in a great gulp of air. “How can you say all those things,” she huffed as Luka straightened up and faced her more fully.

“I told you, didn’t I?” Luka grinned, fingers sliding around to the back of her neck, eyes fixed on her lips. “I’m crazy into you.” Marinette smiled and Luka leaned forward.

Suddenly something stiff whacked the top of his head. Luka ducked away and lifted a hand to shield himself.

“None of that now,” Gina declared. “At least not until you’ve taken my Marinetta on a proper date.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Luka said, sitting up straight quickly. “I absolutely will do that.”

“Grandma!” Marinette scowled, snatching the rolled-up motorcycle magazine out of Gina’s hand. “I can kiss him if I want to!” To prove the point, she tossed the magazine aside, grabbed Luka’s face, pulled it to her own, and kissed him firmly. He couldn’t have stopped himself from melting into her if his life depended on it, one hand coming up to grip her shoulder automatically.

Standing over them, Gina made an amused noise and folded her arms.

Marinette looked a little bit embarrassed when she released him, but her smile returned at the dazed look he gave her. “Will you, um,” he cleared his throat. “Will you go out with me? I don’t work on Wednesdays, we could do dinner and a movie?”

Marinette giggled. “I’d love to.”

Luka looked up at Gina, who shrugged, clearly finding the whole thing funny. “Good enough, I suppose. But you will treat my fairy right, or you will deal with Nonna Gina.”

“Don’t worry,” Luka said breathlessly, a smile spreading over his face as he gazed at Marinette. “No way am I ever going to want to break this spell.”

The rest of the day felt like a pleasant dream, his fingers tangled with Marinette’s, full of little touches, quiet laughter, and light, quick kisses—in between screaming trash talk at the races, which he still found incredibly funny. It was even funnier when Gina joined them, screaming in a garbled mix of Italian and French that had him nearly doubled over laughing. She grinned and ruffled his hair and scolded him half-heartedly.

Finally Luka looked reluctantly up at the nearly-setting sun. “I should go,” he sighed. Gina and Marinette were staying overnight for another set of races the following day, but Luka had only planned on a day trip. “If I leave soon I won’t have to make the whole trip in the dark.”

Marinette sighed and wrapped her hands around his arm, leaning her head on his shoulder. “I’ll walk you back.”

They strolled slowly back to where he was parked, taking their time. Luka perched on the edge of the motorcycle’s seat, and reached for Marinette’s hands. She let him take them and draw her closer so that she was standing between his legs. “I had a great time with you today,” he said, rubbing his thumbs over her hands. “I’m really, really looking forward to seeing you again.”

“Me too,” she said, smiling. “To both.”

“Now that I’m allowed to say it,” he murmured, running his eyes along the line of her shoulder and up her neck, where he’d been longing to run his lips all afternoon, “I want to make sure I tell you that you look super hot today.”

Marinette blushed, but looked pleased. “Yeah?”

“Hell yeah,” Luka sighed, chuckling softly. “Can I kiss you one last time?”

“One last time?” she asked, eyes twinkling above her fake pout.

“Last time today,” Luka corrected with a grin. “All bets are off when I pick you up on Wednesday.”

Marinette giggled. “Shut up and kiss me, Luka.”

He took her face gently in his hands and kissed her, brushing his thumbs over her cheeks, then sliding his hands down to her neck so his thumbs slid along her jaw. He felt her shudder and kissed her deeper, tilting her head back. Her fingers unhooked from where they were clinging to his shirt and slid up his neck and into his hair and she pressed closer, lips parting under his in an invitation he was not about to refuse. He finally pulled back slowly and more than a little reluctantly, giving into the temptation to suck lightly on her criminally plump, soft bottom lip for just an instant before letting it slide from between his lips and opening his eyes. To his satisfaction, when her eyes fluttered open she was looking up at him with the same kind of dazed look he’d given her earlier, her mouth so irresistibly reddened that he laid one more soft kiss on her lips before nuzzling her temple, waiting for her to find the ground again.

When she did she turned her face into his cheek and put her arms around his neck, making a small whine. Luka chuckled, sliding his hands across her back and hugging her tightly to him.

“Hey,” she said against his neck. “One more selfie before you have to go?”

Luka grinned, nuzzling her forehead. “Sure.”

***

“I didn’t know Marinette had a boyfriend,” Adrien commented.

Alya nearly spit her drink across the table. “What?”

Adrien turned his phone towards her to show her his instagram feed and Alya and Nino both gaped. Sure enough there was Marinette with a dark-haired boy with blue tips and a leather jacket. He had his arm around Marinette’s waist and she was draped over his side—wait was she sitting on his knee?—and beaming at the camera. The guy’s smile was softer but just as happy and he was leaning his head against Marinette’s. The sky behind them was streaked with sunset colors. Alya opened her mouth to deny it but Adrien swiped his thumb to show them the next picture, in which the mystery man was kissing a shy, blushing, but obviously happy Marinette on the cheek. The caption only said Fairy tales do come true.

“Wait a minute,” Alya said, grabbing her own phone and swiping furiously. “Isn’t that—yes! It’s the hottie from the motorcycle shop!” She turned another picture towards them from the previous weekend, where Marinette next to (though not nearly so close) the same guy, this time wearing a black t-shirt with a shop logo on it. “Marinette’s been hanging out at motorcycle racing and making out with a bad boy all day!”

“Oh, come on, I doubt she was making out with him.” Adrien rolled his eyes.

Alya now had the picture open on her phone and she looked up at Adrien from it with her eyebrows raised.

“Adrien trust me, that is a girl who has been very recently smooched.”

Adrien frowned, looking back at the picture. “Really? How can you tell? I mean she looks happy, but she could just be having fun.”

“Oh my God, you’re so dense,” Alya groaned. “Nino, what the hell, educate your boy.”

“Ah, nope, sorry. He can learn about makeout face from someone else.” He leaned over to look at Alya’s phone. “Hey, I think I know him,” Nino frowned, leaning closer. “He plays in one of the bands that do the club rounds.”

“Is he a player?” Alya demanded immediately, narrowing her eyes.

Nino shrugged. “Dunno. If he is, he’s not as blatant about it as some of the other guys.”

“That shade of lipstick really suits her,” Adrien commented. “I’ve never seen her wear it before.”

Alya groaned and dropped her head into her arms on the table. “You’re impossible,” came the muffled mutter as Nino patted her back sympathetically.

#quickspins #i'll never not know you #motorcycle fairy #lukanette #i am lukanette trash i admit it #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #ml fics #meet-cute

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