#anyways never thought about the friendship between mary and older people than her but anyways!!! here we go this friendship is canon now

[soulfullives]

she rubbed alice’s hand. “i remember when you caught marlene, lily and i sneaking out of the dorm. you told us to run off before someone sees us; i appreciated it, especially since, you know, you were the head girl, you could have just given us detention.”

alice was looking somewhere, at a certain spot on the wall, a slight smile on her face, almost as if, through a haze, she could remember.

“and then, right after we graduated, you and frank invited us to your wedding. lily almost didn’t come, her parents didn’t want to let her, because they thought it would be dangerous, but you and frank came over and told them that you’re aurors, and that we’d be safe. augusta wore that tacky hat again.” mary rolled her eyes. “has no one told her that it’s out of date?”

alice chuckled, looking over to the bed in which her husband was, and nodded.

“and you had a huge cake and lots of guests and even moody was laughing!” mary exclaimed, letting out a chuckle. “i think it was the only time i ever saw him laugh, really. you had s knack for bringing the best out of people, did you know that?”

the other woman looked at her, and smiled. mary knew that she didn’t remember anything of what she said, but there was something in her, maybe her own delusions, that felt that, deep within her, somewhere inaccessible, alice might have a few of the memories tucked away.

“you were our role model in school, but i don’t think you knew that. we looked up to you a lot, as younger girls. we wanted to be cool like you, with short, choppy hair and wide smiles and something that seemed to be genuine happiness. i’m gonna tell you a secret; sometimes, i wished i was your younger sister.”

mary smiled at alice one last time, then got up. she pressed a kiss to the woman’s forehead, then winked at frank, who had, in the meantime, gotten up and started listening, with interest, to mary’s story.

“your turn next time, frankie.” she waved, closing the door behind her, both of the patients giving her a serene, warm smile.

mary left st. mungo’s feeling hollow as ever, but there was a small, flickering light that had started burning in her.

[fangirl-ramblings]

Pairing: Arthur x gn!reader

Characters: Reader, Simon Pearson, Mary Linton, Arthur Morgan

Word count: 3306

Summary: You and Arthur have recently made your relationship official by moving into his tent...but is he really into you...or is he still holding onto his past?

Notes: SFW, Angst leading to fluff

After requesting several wonderful stories from one of my favourite writers and people, I was super honoured to have the chance to be able to write something for the super talented and lovely @littlestarofthewest -  Merry Christmas from your secret santa 😘😘

Also a huge thank you to @horsegirl1h (who helped me plot this out) @verai-marcel (for wrangling in all my stupid grammatical mistakes) & @mileycyprus-hill who took a quick look over this and gave me a much better character note on how to improve Arthur's feelings in this story and give me a far better title I could ever think of myself. Thank you all 😘

~* Tumblr Masterlist | Stories on AO3 *~

The First Shall Be Forgotten

You slowly opened your eyes, only to find the cot next to you still empty. It was fairly late when you'd finally taken yourself off to bed last night, but you had found yourself unable to keep your eyes open as you'd sat around the scout fire. Your hope of Arthur riding back into camp and joining you in lying down for the night had turned into a wishful dream of waking up with his strong arms wrapped around you, but it turns out it was just that - merely a pleasant dream. 

It was only a few months since you'd started dating, with most of that time spent being inseparable, but lately you noticed that Arthur was staying away from camp longer and longer. Yes - the events of Blackwater had changed the gang's luck and the likes of Dutch and Strauss kept giving Arthur more and more tasks to do, but you'd felt like that most of these jobs could be done well before nightfall. Surely Arthur wasn't avoiding you because he was bored of you already….could he?

You sat upright, shaking your head free of any more of those nasty thoughts, quickly making the decision that you should get dressed and help out around camp before Miss Grimshaw marched over to berate you for wasting so much time idling about.

There was a chill floating in the air this morning in camp and so you found yourself shivering as you looked around for your light jacket. Opening your shared trunk, you proceeded to pile a mixture of both yours and Arthur's clothes on to the cot in your quest to find your missing coat. Though you soon found yourself distracted as you lifted one of Arthur's shirts up, tutting to yourself as you saw just how worn and dirt stained they all were. You swore that that man would wear these offending items until they fell apart on him...and some were close to doing so, judging by how often they'd been patched up.

   "Ah, there you are," Pearson's cheerful voice booming from behind you, making you jump out of your skin, "I need a helping hand gathering supplies in town and was wondering if you could come along with me for the ride"

   "Me? Surely there's someone more capable about?" Although Valentine was only a short ride away, the idea of being Mr. Pearson's captive audience for that short length of time was not high on your list of priorities for the day. 

   "Well, I don't know if you noticed but we are stretched a little thin on the ground right now," his hands gesturing to the almost empty camp area in front of you, "Mr. Smith & Mr. Escuella are yet to return from Blackwater with young Sean and, as you well know, Mr. Morgan is still yet to return from wherever he has took himself off to. As for the girls..." you tried to stifle a chuckle as he trailed off to glance nervously over at where Tilly, Mary-Beth and Karen were currently sitting at their wagon, making sure they couldn't hear this conversation, "...I'd rather not ask them. Uncle told me of the trouble they got up to on their last visit into Valentine."

You couldn't help but burst out laughing at Pearson's fear of trying to keep three excited young women from creating chaos. "Sorry, sorry," you apologised, wiping your eyes as he looked at you with confusion, "Well...since you have no other options, I'll join you. I've been wanting to pick Arthur up a new shirt anyways." Spotting your jacket at the bottom of the truck, you quickly threw it on, leaving all the other clothes heaped on the bed, "Shall we go now then?"

"Goddamit, why does there have to be a train in the station?" you grumbled as Pearson pulled the horses to a stop at the crossing, which was blocked by one of the carriages belonging to the offending train. After being waylaid by the shop boy slowly loading the wagon with all the goods Pearson had chosen for camp - not that any of these ingredients would do much to improve his cooking, you cruelly thought to yourself - your head was starting to ache from listening to Pearson's constant tall tales. All you had wanted to do was get back to camp and sleep off your headache, but that didn't seem to be happening anytime soon, thanks to this stupid train.

   "I know what you mean, I was hoping to get back and make a start on preparing supper," Pearson sighed before suddenly cheering up, "But, hey, at least it gives me more time to tell you about my time at sea. There was this other time..."

Internally, you found yourself groaning, trying to zone out the older man as he recounted yet another story, that this time seemed to involve him somehow, inexplicably fighting a walrus -  single-handedly -  to save his crew.

You glanced around, finding yourself admiring all the different horses hitched up around the station...until a familiar sight caught your eye.

   "Hey isn't that Brutus?" you interrupted Pearson mid-sentence, gesturing towards the big, black Shire horse that Hosea had gifted Arthur a few weeks ago. Arthur had rarely named his horses after losing his beloved Boudicca in Blackwater and was more than content to just refer to this one as "Boy", but after overhearing Hosea called this giant a brute, you'd jokingly suggested the name Brutus, a name that had tickled Arthur and agreed it was the perfect name for this beast.

Put out a little by the fact you had rudely interrupted him just as the story was getting good, Pearson grudgingly glanced over to the direction in which you were pointing.

   "Er, it does look like it. So anyway after I killed the Walrus with nothing but my bare hands…" 

   'So this is where you've gotten to Morgan,' you thought to yourself, once again not listening to Pearson's story. 'Here's hoping you're on your way home too.'

Smiling to yourself that your lover would hopefully be by your side once more, you absent-mindedly found yourself scanning the crowd of people that was starting to thin out as they slowly stepped onto the carriages...until you saw him standing with his back to you.

A smile started to creep over your face as you recognised Arthur's dirty blond hair, broad frame and filthy blue shirt. Just the fact you could see how dirty it was from this distance made you glad that you'd made the decision to buy him a new one now, as that one needed throwing out, never mind a good wash. Anybody would think that man spent most of his time rolling around in the mud than riding a horse around.

With his hands on his gun belt, he shifted his weight to one side and the smile on your face was replaced with a look of confusion as a young lady was revealed to be standing next to him, deep in an intimate conversation.

Unconsciously scowling at her, you were unable to shake the feeling that you've seen her somewhere before, but for the life of you, you couldn't quite place where.

You squinted your eyes to try and focus your vision on her delicate features before a feeling of rage bubbled up from your stomach as she kissed Arthur's cheek, in a way that suggested more than just friendship.

"And I'll tell you - I used that walrus meat to feed a crew of 50...and not one of them complained the way you and the rest of camp do about my cooking" Pearson waffled on down your ear, distracting you from your thoughts about this mysterious woman and how you wanted to jump down and throttle her. Instead you suddenly had the urge to wrap your hands around the cook's neck. 

Turning to face him, you barked, "Maybe being at sea for weeks at end with no food makes people more appreciative of the slop you always manage to serve up - no matter the ingredients." 

You instantly felt regret as the words left your mouth and you saw the hurt in the older man's eyes.

   "Christ, I'm sorry Mr. Pearson. I didn’t mean to take it out on you..." You paused, thinking about telling him about what you just saw, but you doubted this old sea dog would give a damn about your love life and so explained "I just have a real bad headache and it's put me in a bad mood."

He nodded softly and turned away so you wouldn't see him wipe the sting of the tears from his eyes.

Feeling guilty from the hurt you just caused, you looked away to the source of your own pain, only to find Arthur had disappeared from the platform and the train was now pulling out the station. Had he gotten on board with his mystery woman? Gone off to start a new life with her and left you and the outlaw life behind him? These thoughts rattled around your head as Pearson told the horses to giddy up and the pair of you headed back to camp in an awkward silence.

Jumping down from the wagon, you helped Pearson unload the wagon - still with an uneasy tension in the air, before you tried to broker the peace between you both by offering to help prepare the next meal as a peace offering.

   "No, it's quite okay," Pearson patted you shoulder to show there was no hard feelings, "You go sleep off that sore head of yours"

You nodded appreciatively, finding yourself thanking him and apologising once more as you picked up the wrapped parcel containing Arthur's new shirt, and headed back to your tent. 

As you walked over, you rolled your eyes in annoyance at yourself as you caught sight of the mess you'd left behind this morning. Picking the mountain of clothes up, you threw them in straight at the trunk at the end of the cot, surprising yourself as you heard a loud clatter of something hitting the side of the chest and then dropping onto the floor.

Peering over, you saw that a few shirts and a pair of trousers had missed their target and were now scattered over the floor... alongside a wooden photoframe, laying face down on the ground, that definitely wasn't there before.

Picking it up, you recognised the image of a younger, but still very handsome version of Arthur standing on the left.

'You've always been a good-looking bastard haven't you?' half smiling as you took in his handsome features, 'No wonder you have a long list of admirers to spend all your time instead of me.'

Well before you and Arthur had started dating, you had seen this photograph before. You recalled picking it up from his bedside table back then too, in order to get a closer look of how attractive Arthur's always been.

But sometime between then and making your relationship official, Arthur must have removed it and hidden it out of sight from you. Just as you were about to ask yourself why, you spotted who else was in the picture.

   'No…no it can't be,' you thought to yourself as you stared at the beautiful, dark haired woman standing next to him in the image. But, as much as you didn’t want it to be, it certainly was. Looking straight back at you was a younger version of the same woman from the train station…the same woman who had ripped Arthur's heart out and tore it into a million pieces all those years ago when she called off their engagement - Mary.

Time seemed to slow down as your mind went into overdrive. Did he simply remove the picture as a thoughtful gesture so you wouldn't wake up to a younger Arthur and his ex-fiancee looking at you…or did he hide it because he still loved her and her alone? Were you just a stopgap - something to fill the emptiness in his heart until she came back to him? Is that the real reason Arthur had hidden the picture and not gotten rid of it completely? So once he had managed to win her back, he could toss you aside and place it once more on his bedside to stare lovingly at while he held her in his arms?

You hadn’t realise you were crying or just how hard you were gripping the frame until you heard the sudden sound of glass cracking and a mix of your blood and tears began to streak all over her stupid, perfect face. Standing frozen to the spot, you stared and stared at her image, slowly disappearing under the physical manifestations of your hurt and betrayal, until you heard Arthur bellow out your name as he rode back into camp.

   "Hey you. Boy, did I sure miss you while I was gone," he cheerfully greeted you as he strode towards you, "I tell you, there's some strange sights out there that I've been dyin' to tell you all 'bout."

   "Tell me?" you snarled, acting the wounded animal you currently felt like, "Don't you have other people you'd rather spend your time with?"

   "What? What's got into you?" 

Your heart panged as you saw the hurt cross his face as he saw how upset you were. 

"Listen, if this 'bout me spendin' so much time from camp recently, then I am sorry - but I did miss you somethin' fierce y'know" he assured you, placing his arms around your waist.

   "Just like you've missed Mary for all these years?" Just saying her name out loud felt like you had tasted venom on your lips and needed to quickly spit it out.

"Mary? Where's all this comin' from?" He flustered, averting his eyes downwards as not to meet your steely gaze. Upon seeing you holding the photograph, he exclaimed, "Christ alive, you're bleedin'. Here lemme fix you up."

"I'm fine," you snapped at him, pulling your hand away from his gentle touch. Any other time, this small act of affection - the big mean outlaw gently cradling your hand in his - would have made you melt on the spot, but today your inner rage wasn't having any of it. Instead you blurted out, "I saw you. At the train station…with her."

Realising he had been caught out and couldn't bluff his way out of this sorry mess, he sat down on the cot and tried to explain.

   "Okay, yeah, I was at the train station with her, but it really ain't what you think…"

   "I saw her kiss you."

  "You mean when she kissed my cheek? That was her sayin' goodbye. Her and her brother are headin' back East to find their father."

You sat next to him, the photograph still in your hands.

   "Still doesn't explain why you were with her in the first place."

   "No it doesn't, does it." He sighed, running his hand down his face. "I was on my way back to camp, ridin' through Valentine when I thought I'd check and see if there was any post. Lo' and behold there was just the one - a letter from Mary askin' if I could help with a small problem of hers."

   "So you must have been in contact with her if she knew you were in town."

He shook his head. "No. No, she'd recognised the girls after their last trip into town and wrote to me on the off-chance I was also in the area."

   "Why?"

"Her kid brother, Jamie, he'd gone and got himself mixed up in this weird cult up in Cumberland Forest. Christ, you shoulda seen them all listenin' on as this lunatic spouted some nonsense about turtles or somethin'," laughing, he patted his leg until he saw your stony expression still waiting for the answer to your question.

   "Get to the point please, Arthur."

   "You're right, sorry," he said as he nodded, "Jamie was the only one in her family who stood up for me and I owed it to *him*, not Mary, him -  to help get him away from those crazy fools."

You fidgeted slightly next to him. You wanted to believe him, but he seemed to be avoiding the main topic of conversation.

   "So say I believe you about your reasonings for helping her…why did you keep a picture of her?"

Silence filled the air for a second before he simply answered. "I shoved it in there so you wouldn't have to keep lookin' at it when we lay together...and I guess I forgot all 'bout it."

You looked away as more tears fell down your cheeks. Gently placing his hand under your chin, Arthur turned your face to face his, looking deep into your eyes he told you, 

   "You’re overthinking – I’m yours. That’s all I want to be.”

   "Prove it." You pleaded.

   "Okay then...this should show you she's nothin' to me now." He took the broken frame from your grasp and carefully removed the picture from the frame, lingering for a moment before crumpling it up in his hand and walking towards the campfire.

Though his stride was purposeful, you couldn't help but feel he faltered once more as he looked at the flames, but those fears disappeared as he turned to look back at you with a warmth in his eyes and a smile stretching wide across his face. Looking straight at you, his hand opened and the picture fell into the flames, where it lay for a few moments as it slowly rendered into nothing but a pile of ashes.

Making his way back over to you, he picked you up and spun you around his arms.

   "I'm all yours...are you mine?"

Bonus scene: Arthur's POV

He slowly removed the picture from the frame, partly being careful not to cut himself on broken shards of glass and partly because he wanted to make sure he was making the right decision. He was convinced that after Mary called it all off between them, he'd never smile, let alone love again. But then you'd walked into his life and brought light back into the darkness he'd found himself in.

But maybe there was a reason he'd held on to this photograph for all this time - a reminder of the good times that existed between them. Heartbreak has a funny way of erasing those memories, but seeing the woman you once considered the love of your life in person has an equally funny way of making those feelings rush back.

But no, the heartache he'd felt for all these years outweighed the fleeting moments of happiness he'd felt with Mary. And that kiss on the cheek to say goodbye that she'd given him at the train station? It certainly didn't give him butterflies like it used too. Looking at her image one last time, he crumpled it up and walked over to the campfire.

Though he had confidently strode over to flames, he once more had doubts he was right to finally let Mary go. Turning to face you, everything suddenly became very clear in Arthur's mind. Everything he ever wanted: someone who loved the group of people he considered family, as well as loving him for the man he was - despite his faults, someone who was willing to stick with him through thick and thin, make him laugh when he was down, and never fail to make him smile, that special someone he wanted to grow old with with...he already had that with you.

Without thinking, he opened his hand and let the battered photograph waft downwards, enveloped by the flames and turning to nothingness as he made his way back over to you, picking you up and spinning you around his arms.

   "I'm all yours...are you mine?"

[lady-literature]

no point wishing on stars

aka the jasonette aladdin au literally no one asked for

This is a great big amalgamation of semi-canon miraculous, batman and a heavy dose of bastardized Aladdin but here we go-

The story goes like this:

Jason is our beloved street rat turned prince Boy Wonder and billionaire’s son (not that he’s gotten that far yet).

Marinette is Ladybug, is the Guardian, is our modern-day Jasmine. She’s next in line after Fu to lead the Order, which, I suppose, is like High Royalty for superheroes/magic users.

But before she can take her rightful place, she needs a partner by her side. It’s so stupid rule that says she, as a Ladybug, needs a Black Cat by her side in order to be properly balanced.

The only problem is, she doesn’t want one. Or, well. More accurately, it’s that she doesn’t like the ones offered to her, and she doesn’t quite like the idea of being tied to someone she barely knows, especially not at fourteen.

There have been many Black Cat candidates to cross her path but there has been only one she did not immediately veto. Adrien Agreste may be a Black Cat, but he cannot be hers. He will never be anything more than her dearest brother, and that is not what Creation needs.

Creation and Destruction—life and death—have a certain type of relationship. They are lovers, mated and married in every meaning of the word.

And, for as much as she loves and adores Adrien as her brother in her soul, they will never be like that. She will never want him the way she must should he take up Destruction.

So yeah. Marinette has a problem. And yeah, she has some time to figure it out, but the Order is looking to have her figure it out sooner rather than later. Adrien is a good place holder for now, but if Marinette doesn’t choose a Black Cat by the time she’s twenty-one, Adrien will either have to do, or she forfeits her crown and the Ladybug miraculous (which she would never do, she loves her people and Tikki too much to ever do that).

(wait? Does this mean I made Adrien the human equivalent of Raja?… yes. Yes it does.)

And, to spice this up just a bit more, let’s say Hawkmoth is Jafar, yeah? This little shit is really trying to push his son to be the next Black Cat because he wants power what’s best for his son. So he be out here sabotaging potential Black Cats because he’s an asshole his son is the best candidate at the moment. He could give less than two shits about if Mari and Adrien actually like each other that way, he will shove his son at her until she has no choice but to choose him.

Anyway, so Mari leaves the temple one day. Which is fine, she’s not trapped there or anything, she can come and go as she pleases! (she may have to normally take someone with her and is currently ignoring that rule perhaps, but that’s besides the point!)

So she’s at a market in Gotham, strolling down the street, having a good time enjoying being around normal people, when she notices a boy getting into some trouble.

(I’ll give you three guesses as to who it is and the first two don’t count.)

Jason was stealing from market vendors because the hubbub of the street is distracting and nicking a few scraps here and there is practically child’s play. Only, he miscalculates.

One vendor was paying more attention than he thought.

Mari’s across the street and sees the whole thing. Sees the vendor grab Jason’s hand in a bruising grip and snarl in his face.

She’s in between the pair before she even realizes it, mouth already opening around some made-up story about ill-advised dares and how ‘it won’t happen again, sir’ and ‘here, I’ll pay for that right now, no harm done!’

Jason stares at her utterly baffled and, thankfully, silent until after she’d already grabbed his hand and pulled him away.

Only, she pulls him away down the wrong alley. (Look. Mari’s a real sweet-talker and knows how to smooth ruffled feathers, but she is hardly street smart.)

Jason swears, and it’s the first words she’s heard him speak, and then it’s him tugging her along. Up a fire escape and over the rooftops because Jason likes to think he’s tough, but there’s no way he’s picking a fight with five guys bigger than him and wearing masks.

He likes to keep his heart beating more than he wants to keep his pride unharmed thank you very much.

They end up on a rooftop, panting and like, seven blocks away. Marinette is now very lost and with a strange boy who she doesn’t know. He seems… nice, and she’s a good judge of character, but that doesn’t mean much when they’re still very much strangers.

But then the two just look at each other and suddenly they’re both laughing.

And that, my friends, is the start of a beautiful friendship.

***

During those first few months, she and Jason just seem to click.

Mari starts leaving the temple more and more to meet up with Jason, and on more than one occasion dragging behind her a picnic basket bigger than her. (it’s stupid to let one of her friends starve just because he’s too prideful to take her food. So she plans lots of picnics for them both, and pointedly ignores the way he eats and hoards most of the food she brings.)

He is her friend—though she would be lying if she said she didn’t like him a bit more than what one would consider friendly.

And Jason, who is funny and kind and made sharp by the life he’s been forced into, likes her right back. She is one of the few great parts of his life, a bright spot in the darkness he has called his world for so long, and there are few things he wouldn’t do for her.

It’s… scary—just a bit—how important she is to him.

He tries not to think about it too much.

And it doesn't really matter anyway, because she is good and bright and amazing and he is… there’s nothing he can give her in return. Nothing good, anyway.

She deserves someone better. Someone who could buy her things as pretty as her and take her nice places.

Someone who isn’t a street rat.

And then he learns she’s Ladybug, right up there with Wonder Woman and Robin and all the other amazing people set on saving the world, and he feels he got that much farther from her. How can he ever compare?

Jason doesn’t wish, because wishing is childish and he learned too young that shooting stars don’t exist and he’s come to terms with the fact that this is his life years ago, all right? He doesn't need the burden of hope to weigh him down now.

(but perhaps, deep down, tucked away in the corner of his heart, there might be a thought. Small and scared and aching, he might think, ‘if only I could be there with her, if only i could fly with her, maybe then I’d be enough’)

Six months after he meets Marinette, Jason comes across the Batmobile.

His first thought is, this can’t be real.

His second is, I could buy Mari a real birthday gift with this.

His third thought is less of a thought because he’s already got two tires off by that point and then suddenly Batman is there and Jason is swinging his tire iron.

This then leads—somehow—to him winding up at Wayne Manor with Bruce Wayne and then he learns about Batman and Robin and he gets to be Robin and-

(and what else is a Robin meant to do but fly?)

It’s too good to be true. Wishes don’t come true and good things don’t happen to him unless their name be Marinette but… but Jason’s here and it’s not a dream. He’s no prince but, well… he thinks this might just be as close as you can get.

And, okay. He really does try with the whole secrecy thing, because he can understand why that’s important but, I mean… it’s Marinette, who is Ladybug. There really was never any chance of Jason keeping that particular secret, Batman or no Batman.

And about,,, two years pass like this ig. Mari is almost seventeen now, and Jason turned seventeen recently and the pair are getting closer and closer every day. They’re toeing the line of ‘more than friends’ but neither have really taken that next step. 

The pressure is on Mari from the Order because she’s getting older and as much as she likes Jason, knows him but he isn’t a good candidate for Destruction and Mari must think of her people first.

Jason doesn’t get to be hers to keep and that aches but what else is she meant to do? She cannot—does not—want to change him in any way. So they stay, in their strange little limbo, with neither making a move.

And then, the unthinkable happens.

Hawkmoth hears of the boy finally, and is, obviously, furious.

He doesn't care if this boy can be a Cat or not, he’s going to ruin all his plans. So, there’s only one solution. He needs to get rid of him.

(i’ll give you three guesses as to how and the first two don’t count!)

Robin—Jason—dies, and Marinette feels when he does. She doesn’t know why or what happened, but the moment he leaves the world her blood turns cold and she feels sick.

Jason hasn’t even looked at the ring and already Marinette could feel the thread that had begun to tie them together. When she hears of his death—when she learns that he’s gone—Marinette shatters.

She shatters and cries and the world tips just a little, with the force of her sorrow, with the agony of her screams.

(justice is blind, yes, but is she deaf? Can she deny the sobbing of such a being as Creation herself? Can she stand, unfeeling, before the agony she has wrought?)

Marinette does not bring Jason back to life… but she has done something close. Has opened the possibility. Is, perhaps, the reason that six months later he screams and claws and drags himself from his own grave.

He is wrong wrong wrong, but he is also alive.

The league finds him, as they must. And Talia throws him into the pits, as she must. And Jason is reborn, screaming and angry and violent, as he must.

Marinette had known, Before, that Jason would not be a good match for the ring. He was tough and wild and willing to get his hands dirty if that’s what it took, but that was not what his core was. He was familiar with the rust and decay of back alley streets, but that wasn’t where he belonged. He would throw a punch but he didn’t relish the blood on his knuckles after a fight.

Jason was surrounded by destruction, but that’s not what he was.

Now… now the destruction he spent so long dancing with has slipped through the cracks in his mind left behind by the explosion. It ripped through his skin and slithered through into his veins until it settled in his heart like an overly smug cat.

Death and Destruction are inside him, woven in his ribcage and fusing with his blood, pumping pumping pumping its deadly rhythm and Jason is helpless to deny it’s tune.

Jason is a being of Destruction through circumstance rather than design, but make no mistake, that does not make him less.

(in fact, it may even make him more. To be remade from one’s own destruction is a powerful thing, and to be remade into Destruction? Well. There are few things more… miraculous.)

And we all know the next part of the story right?

Marinette mourns and grows and lives.

Jason rages and learns and plans. He’s come far from that street rat of a boy, and farther still from Marinette's petite oiseau.

But, two years after he comes back, when he ventures back to Gotham for revenge, Marinette takes one look at this angry, violent man calling himself Red Hood and she knows. He’s too familiar, even as he stands before her, more changed than she ever thought possible.

She meets the Red Hood when he comes for the new Robin, sweet little Tim who Marinette had grown to like despite herself. (He is not Jason, and never will be, but the boy was too shy and clever and earnest for her to have remained cold to him just because he wore the same colors once worn by the man she loved.)

She loves Tim in the same way she loves Adrien, simply and wholly and uncomplicated.

And then she is there when Jason comes for him.

Their reunion is not the stuff of fairy tales. It is not the beginning of happily ever after or true love.

Their reunion is a punch in the gut because it doesn't matter that he’s alive—except it does, because Mari has never known she could be so happy and so shattered at the same time—she is farther from him than she’d ever imagined she could be.

She reaches out for him, voice cracking around his name—because who else could this familiar stranger be?—and something in her shatters all over again when he flinches back from her touch.

“No,” he says, and it is a million things at once. He sends one last glare to Tim, who is still behind her, and then he’s gone.

***

Jason tries to avoid her.

Marinette allows this for a whole month before the whispers in the streets and the stories Tim comes back to her with, become too much.

She knows he is angry and out for revenge and building an empire out of the criminals that infest their city, but she doesn’t care. He was gone for two whole years and Marinette is tired of not seeing him-hearing him-touching him.

She has missed him like an ache in her chest and she doesn't care if he hates her or is furious with her, she just wants to see him. She needs to reassure herself that he’s alive, that he’s real.

And, it seems, the universe is on her side in this. In her chest, nestled there in the space next to her heart, there is what she can only describe as a compass, pointing to wherever Jason is like he’s her own personal north star.

The first few times, she’s yelled at or ran off. Or he runs off. Either way, for a while, the only moments she’s close to him are short and aching.

But she doesn’t let him run for long, and she doesn’t let him scare her off as she knows he’s trying to do.

Marinette had always been the more stubborn of the two.

Eventually, like a feral cat learning safety (like a hurt, scared animal relearning love), Jason lets her get close. He lets her in, lets her get close again.

The first time she sees him, without helmet or mask, she flings herself at him. Arms around his neck and legs wrapped around his waist, clutching him like her life depends on it. He takes her weight automatically, hand beneath her thighs while the other wraps around her back just as tightly. (he longs for touch, she has relearned, but he is also so frightened of it. She will have to be brave for them both)

The second time she sees his face bare once more, he is still thrumming with energy from a fight, is still high on the feeling of broken bones and blood on his knuckles. The force in his chest, the clawing and raging thing settled just off-center of the very core of him, pulls him toward her and Marinette meets him halfway, her own bright, ruthless force like a magnet in her chest.

They meet in a clash of hands on skin and lips anywhere they’ll land.

It is the first time they fall into bed together.

It will not be the last.

Now, you may be thinking, ‘Lady! This isn’t very Aladdin at all!’ and to that I tell you: I fucking warned you. What part of bastardized-Aladdin didn’t you get?

Also, shh. This is my favorite part!

So Mari is in her own personal little honeymoon stage, right? She practically could not be happier because Jason is alive and he’s hers and, even if he’s more violent and a crime boss, he’s stopped attacking his family at least. Which is good, because Mari really didn’t like the sad look Tim wore every time he brought up Jason.

And, oh yeah. Through a combination of her own detective work and Tikki, little Mari realizes that Jason is her Black Cat. Is the only person her Black Cat could be, not because of destiny—though that had helped—but because of coincidence and the bond the pair forged themselves.  

So Mari is, obviously, on cloud nine at the moment and she tells Adrien and Fu who are ecstatic for her, and announcements are going to be made the second Mari tells Jason and what could possibly go wrong?

Well, a lot of things really but the first thing is that, basically, Mari is asking Jason to marry her. Just a bit. And while they both know, in that nebulous way they always have, that they love each other, neither of them have ever actually said it.

And also, they aren’t really dating right now either. Mari’s been too busy trying to just get near Jason again that she hasn’t much been paying attention to normal relationship things like dates or labels.

So when she brings it up Jason is… well, caught off guard is likely an understatement. Which then makes Mari realize what exactly she’s just done and- shit. She’s ruined everything and Jason is going to run away again and the compass in her chest is just going to be a reminder of what she can’t have and-

Jason, who only moments before was terrified and in danger of bolting—because this is a lot and magic-marrying Mari comes with responsibilities and rules and a thousand strings he doesn't know what to do with—now stops and stares at her, babbling and so obviously panicked and something in him abruptly settles.

She starts pacing and he grabs her hand when she passes by close enough, reeling her into his body. She comes easily even in her frazzled state and the vicious clawing thing in his chest sighs contentedly.

“Why?” he asks, and it is a million things at once. Why him, why now, why, why, why?

There are a million ways she could answer, but the easiest? The most important answer is simply this: “Because I love you.”

His breath shudders in his chest at her words and her hands raise to settle on his cheek and the back of his neck, a protection of one of the most vulnerable parts of him, and he leans into her touch like a man starved.

Gods, Jason has loved her for years.

He loved her Before and he loved her in the pits, when all he had was the hate they kept stuffing in his chest, and he loves her now. She is his sun and he will spin around her for the rest of his life. But when it all comes down to it, one simple fact doesn’t change:

“I don’t deserve your love.”

Her hands press harder into his skin, like she can force him to understand through touch alone. “If everyone only got the love they deserved no one would be truly loved,” she counters.

“You would,” he says, quick and quiet and honest. Her breath hitches and he watches her eyes go wide. The hands he has on her hips tighten at the emotions he finds there.

“Oh,” she whispers, already pulling him down to meet her. “Oh you stupid, beautiful man.”

And then they’re kissing and- and it is not the first time they’ve done this, but there is something very different about this one.

They’re kissing, and this time, it feels very much like coming home.

***

And, perhaps, that is not the end.

Because there is still one wish left. 

Because Jafar-Hawkmoth is still there, and he’s still murderous, and there a very real chance he’s going to ruin the wedding somehow.

Because there is never truly an end to a story, it just simply stops being told.

But none of that really matters. Our princess and her dearest street rat are together at last, and together they’ll get through whatever happens after the story stops being told.

They’ve always had a thing for impossible odds after all.

[spooky-z]

The Soulmate AU [2]

Maribat by @ozmav

I didn't get much into the first part about their relationship (of the couple and with other people), so here's a post about it.

DAMIAN:

At 8, Damian, influenced by Marinette, manages to escape from the League to Batfam.

Not before stopping by to finally meet the girl in person. Of course.

Marinette's parents are relieved to know her little girl's soulmate, but also in a panic, as he has no shame in talking about his life with the League of Assassins.

"I don't want to be secret between us, since one day Marinette and I are getting married."

They accept. Bad. But they accept and try to be understanding.

He spends a week living with the Dupain-Cheng before deciding it was time to meet his father.

Marinette is sad. One week was too little and she wanted him safe by her side, not in a place where she could do nothing to help.

She attaches a discreet bracelet to the boy's wrist, claiming to be a lucky charm,and shows an equal resting on her pale wrist.

They say goodbye.

When Damian arrives in Gotham and meets Bruce, the man seems not at all surprised to learn that he had a son and that this son was coming to stay.

(The League and Talia had gone looking for Damian in Gotham, but were unable to find him.)

"Typical. She thinks she can predict my movements. I'm much smarter than that.” Damian snorts contemptuously and Mari laughs softly beside him.

She was by his side the whole trip. Only disappearing when she slept.

His relationship with Bruce and his brothers had a rocky beginning.

Damian was very closed and volatile.

Shoot first, ask questions later.

But our strawberry shortcake aka Marinette, with Alfred's help (even though the man didn't know he was helping her) managed to soften him enough to make things work.

Jonathan and Damian meet for the first time on duty.

Batman and Robin on patrol when Superman appears with Superboy and is dislike at first glance.

What changes after they meet again at school and Jonathan remembers Damian through Adrien's memories.

Best Friends Distributing Chaos Through Metropolis ™

He lives in Gotham with his father and siblings until he is 15, when he decides that living away from his soulmate is no longer working and signs up for an exchange in Paris.

MARINETTE:

Despite having a soulmate trained to be a assassin, she lived a normal, sweet childhood.

She had classmates, but also had her best friends: Kim and Sabrina.

Mari also becomes friends with Adrien at six.

The two know each other thanks to a visit from the Agreste family to the Dupain-Cheng bakery.

It is instant friendship! And families encourage both.

(Gabriel more for not wanting Adrien too close to Chloe).

Because soulmates are rare, she has been harassed by people (other children and adults)

Which didn't last long, because it was no wonder, she was Damian Al-Ghul Wayne's soulmate.

Marinette never depended on Damian for dangerous skills.

Things like steal, act, observe and gymnastics.

She was a very observant child, able to understand things that not even her parents were capable of before she pointed out the evidence.

She still wants to be a designer, this time with Gabriel's support.

But there was also a part (she didn't know if it was because of Damian) that simply wanted to fight off the Paris criminals.

The relationship with her parents is the best. They don't hide anything from each other because trust is a serious thing in this family.

When Damian goes to Paris and they meet in person for the first time, she makes a point of feeding him sweets, since his diet in the League was very strict.

She introduced Damian to Sabrina, Adrien and Kim at a picnic with the families.

(To Adrien's soulmate too and it was a mess)

At 9, she convinces Emilie that Adrien would learn much more from studying at a school like her.

They go to school together and she teaches Adrien some ways to fight that her parents wouldn't approve of, but she knew would be useful in the future.

Mari is fucking smart.

She and Adrien are fucking scary together.

Chloe avoids them even if Sabrina is their friend.

Everyone thinks she and Adrien are soulmates (except Sabrina and Kim, who had already met Damian).

At thirteen, on the first day of school a drunk man broke into the school assaulting one of the teachers who tried to kindly ask him to leave...

That day was marked "Never mess with Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

JONATHAN:

He lived part of his childhood living on his grandparents' farm.

He always knew who his father and mother were, so being half alien wasn't something he didn't know about.

No one really believed that he had a soulmate (even if his eyes proved otherwise) because of his alien heritage.

He learned Kryptonian as he grew older.

As well as his powers and abilities.

After his parents decide to stop hiding, they move to Metropolis and Jon starts studying at a private school.

The signs of his soulmate only became evident after Jonathan recognized the face and model names on billboards.

And he had never been interested in modeling or the fashion world.

Then came the dreams.

Dreams of photo shoot, a green-eyed blonde woman and a stern-looking skinny man. Both French.

The first thought had been that he was going crazy.

The second, that he was developing a new power.

This continued until the "Swap" and he understood what was going on.

He and Adrien become best friends (first).

His classmates liked to tease him that Jonathan spent so much time “talking to himself”

His parents found the boy's innocent joy so cute.

He “introduces” Adrien to his parents and the boy blushes with Lois's attention.

Clark too, since please, it was Superman there.

Romantic feelings only come at 10 (for both), but they only start dating at 13.

Damian is his best friend, since he understands his situation very well.

He is the one who puts the idea in Damian's mind to take the exchange in Paris.

Convince the parents is a little harder than Bruce Wayne, but he manages.

Imagine the disaster that will be Paris in the hands of these four.

ADRIEN:

Having met Marinette much earlier than in canon and becoming her best friend, he has a drastic change of character here.

Although his pacifist side remains firm, it is not as strong as in canon.

Jonathan's bonus for being his soul mate as well, as it directly affects his behavior.

Influenced by Marinette, he is not taken in by Chloe's crazy and childish ideas

He even tries to help the girl, knowing that her bad behavior was more to draw attention, since her parents were far from exemplary parents, but she runs away from him as soon as she finds out that he is friends with Mari.

He makes other friends, but none compare to Marinette, Jonathan and Damian.

Learning to fight and growing a backbone was something he enjoyed, but baking was his passion.

Mr. Dupain really wanted to be able to adopt the boy.

He cried when he could see Jonathan for the first time.

When his mother dies in a car accident, he is 12 years old.

Adrien goes into shock.

He didn't eat, didn't talk, didn't sleep.

Jonathan was panicking that they were in distant countries, different continents.

Adrien did not react.

It went on like this until Marinette decided that was enough of it and broke into the Agreste mansion, sparing not even a glance at Gabriel.

Adrien was forced to shower, put on clean clothes, comb the hair, eat, brush the teeth and cry.

Yes, forced to cry.

Marinette knew that in order for him to get out of the nest of dark thoughts (which Jonathan had warned her), he needed to vent all that was trapped.

The day had been long, the night even more so.

It took months, but he managed to return to normal gradually. With the help of his friends, Adrien was able to suffer his grief in the least painful way possible.

When Gabriel decides it's best for Adrien to be home schooled again and fill the boy's schedule with photo essays, Marinette gets angry.

Or maybe it was Damian. Or both together. Anyway,

When Gabriel decides to be a dick, Marinette threatens to report the man to the police for child exploitation.

He tries to dissuade Marinette by threatening her back, but Adrien supports her and confronts his father.

OTHER THINGS:

Because of Adrien's “rebellion”, Gabriel decides to do nothing at the moment, but devises plans to change that.

What he doesn't know is that Marinette, with Damian's help, Jonathan, her parents, is two steps ahead of him. Waiting for his first slip.

Damian does not introduce Marinette to Batfam, he avoids, but the girl insists until one day she introduces herself and he just stands by his arms crossed and annoyed.

Jason and Marinette become best friends for Damian's chagrin and Bruce's happiness.

(Jason was having a hard time... and Marinette was being the light at the end of the tunnel for Bruce.)

The first time they make the "Swap" at Wayne Mansion, everyone is horrified to watch Damian spin happily around the kitchen, all smiles, while decorating Batfam-themed cupcakes.

Timothy had recorded and sent it to all family friends.

When Gabriel tries to force Adrien to do a late-night photo shoot on a school day, Jonathan curses the man with all the low vocabulary he has learned living on the farm.

His parents are not proud to find the boy at 3am cursing loudly in the kitchen, but understand his frustration.

Adrien is the one who anchors Jonathan's powers, so he doesn't lose too much control.

Alya and Lila will die a slow and painful death in this au.

And I say that not for Damian but for Tikki.

I will make one for the kwamis and soon I will post the fanfiction!

[tag list]

@sassydepression @emjrabbitwolf @actual-disaster-human @mystery-5-5 @thequestionablyhuman @alexresides @officiallyathiana   @interobanginyourmom @2sunchild2 @vixen-uchiha @timetomakeanewwish @ranger-gothamite @thanks-captain-obvious @wargraymon0709 @krispydefendorpolice @chocolatecatstheron @kazjaurelia @lysslovsanime @fandomkitty8 @g-arya @zerotosiki @bananaapplewaffle @graduatedmelon @schrodingers25 @queencommonsense @mindfulmagics @michellemagic @kceedraws @littleblue5mcdork @be-happy-every-day-please @razzledazzle247

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Soulmate au where Sirius has James's name on his wrist, James thinks he has no soulmate, until BAM! He finds it in some unusual place for a soulmark and there's Sirius Black's name.

Young Sirius Black had a name printed on his wrist, a thick cuff bracelet to cover it as all soulmarks were, and a belly full of hope: James Potter. His parents tried to tell him that soulmates didn't make them automatically allies, but he knew that was only because the name on his wrist was someone from a family they didn't like. Regulus didn't have to deal with any of that, and when they thought Sirius wasn't listening, they told their second son all about soulmates and how they'd always be there for him. So yeah, Sirius knew they were lying to him in the hopes that he'd manage believe them this time. 

When James Potter introduced himself, with a large grin and thick rimmed glasses and messy hair standing out like they were too big for the rest of his body, Sirius smiled back and said his name, hoping for a reaction of some sort. He didn't get one. 

They talked on the train ride to Hogwarts, and it became increasingly obvious that James didn't recognize him. It was a terrible feeling, realising that James didn't have his name. Sirius belonged to James, that much was clear. It was like a deep feeling seeped into his bones, this knowledge that he belonged to James. He wished that it went both ways, that James belonged to him too. 

That would've been nice.

*

"D'you have a soulmate?" Sirius asked out of the blue one day. 

"Nope," James admitted easily. He didn't seem very down about it, but Sirius definitely would've been in his place. Maybe that was because he knew who his soulmate was, though. 

"Do you wish you had one?" 

"Eh." James shrugged, frowning at a blot of ink that landed on his parchment. "I guess? It sounds nice, the way people talk about it, and my parents are soulmates, but it's hard to miss what you've never had. What about you?" 

Sirius blinked. "I have a soulmate." It would be easier if he didn't maybe, but he also wouldn't give up James's name on his wrist. 

"Really?" James asked, more surprised than he should've been considering how close they were-- Sirius ignored the fact that this was his first confirmation that James didn't have a soulmate so there was no reason for James to know anything about his. 

"Yeah." He tried to inject enough casualness into his voice that James wouldn't pry further, and it worked. 

*

It had been six and a half years since Sirius met James. And with every buggering year that passed, it became more and more bloody obvious that James didn't have Sirius's name for a reason. James readily admitted that he didn't have a soulmark, but that wasn't what did it; Sirius kept fucking up. Because Sirius wasn't a good person. If he had one main trait, it would be selfishness. He kept pulling James into pranks even though he was Head Boy-- and okay, it's not like James really fought him on it, but he also wasn't instigating anymore, which meant that if Sirius didn't suggest it, they didn't do anything-- he did that thing with Snape a couple years ago that had nearly killed Remus and James, and he kept sabotaging James and Lily's relationship. It's not like he put it in his mind to do it, but that's always what ended up happening. Which sucked. Because James was getting mad at him, and Lily was actually pretty cool which just made it worse (she seemed to think it was a sort of hazing that she had to endure to prove she could be part of the group, and that was the same way Sirius attempted to justify it to himself before Remus had flat out said, "Stop trying to break them up, James is still your best mate and that's not going to change because he's dating someone. Sirius could have stood for his subconscious taking it to heart but whatever). 

Anyways, James didn't have his name because Sirius was a complete and absolute berk who didn't deserve being shackled to him for the rest of his life. 

*

"Sorry," Sirius said as soon as he sat on the couch. 

"Should I be worried?" Lily asked, her tone flat as she showed how clearly she wasn't worried. 

Sirius snorted. "This is going to be the beginning of a great new friendship." 

"Between you and...?" 

"You." 

Lily looked up from her book at that, blinking at him guilelessly. 

Fuck she really didn't know. Sirius thought by this point everyone knew he was in love with James, even though neither Remus nor Peter had come out and admitted as much to his face. And if she didn't know that, did she have a reason for why he was being such an arse, or did she just think that's how he was? Either way, that behaviour was coming to an end. Sirius gave her a smirk that looked more like a pained grimace; he wasn't used to apologising even though he had plenty to apologise for. "I've been an arse and I'm sorry. Worried you were going to take James from me, y'know?" 

"Not judging, but that's kinda stupid. I'm his girlfriend, you're his best mate. It's not like we're both dating him or summat." 

That hurt more, but if she hadn't noticed before, she wasn't going to notice now. "Yeah I figured that out. Rather," he added with a dramatic eye roll, "Moony got so annoyed that he whacked me over the head with his History of Magic essay until I listened to him. I haven't been very nice to you. I'm surprised he hasn't killed me for it yet, to be honest." 

"I didn't take it personally," she said with a shrug. "I'm not sure you like anyone other than James. And occasionally Peter and Remus," she tagged on thoughtfully. "Anywho, you will be forgiven shortly, just as soon as I believe it won't keep happening." 

"Well here's hoping I don't reclaim being a dumbarse." 

Lily chuckled. "Here's hoping." 

*

James showed up on Sirius's doorstep, one hand stuck in his hair like he couldn't bear to be in a normal stance. There was a nervous energy about him, but it wasn't tragic like they'd lost somebody else in the war. "What's wrong?" Sirius asked when he came in, barely finishing the second word before James was blurting out an answer. 

"Lily's pregnant." 

Sirius's heart stopped. When it started again, it was painful where it beat in his chest, like his ribcage had shrunk at the same time his heart grew and now it was strangled but trying desperately to continue on like nothing had changed. "What?" 

"So we're- y'know- getting married only she wants to have it soon, like before she starts to show at all, so I was thinking you could help." 

"What?" 

"To, y'know, throw the wedding together. I have no idea what goes into it, but you're my best man so you'd have to help anyways, right? And you always pick good flowers and shite, so it makes sense to apply it to weddings, y'know?" James was saying 'you know' a lot, like maybe if he said it enough, Sirius would stop being confused. 

"Best man?" Sirius repeated dumbly. He'd never felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest before. He wouldn't recommend it. 

"Lily's kind of freaking out, so Marlene and Mary and Dorcas are all at our place comforting her, and they sorta kicked me out, so like, I dunno, maybe they're planning it so you won't have to?" 

Did James think the best friend of the groom was traditionally the one to plan the wedding? Or did he assume that Sirius was going to do it because he was used to Sirius taking care of things? "James," Sirius said, and James looked over at him like he was hearing him for the first time since showing up. "Pregnant?" 

"Hmm? Yeah, apparently condoms aren't a hundred percent effective, who knew? And her birth control pills aren't very reliable, guess we had an unlucky night, you know? She's only two months in, so we've got a month to the wedding, if that helps." 

Pregnant. And all James had to say about it was that they had an unlucky night? Sirius frowned. "James, do you want to marry her?" 

"We're having a kid, we're going to be a family." He stated it like fact, and Sirius took a grounding breath and let it go. If he argued this and won, then what? Lily would have to raise a kid by herself, James would be miserable with guilt, and for every minute afterwards, Sirius would have to wonder if he did it for James's sake or his own. 

"Yeah, I guess you're right." 

Unfortunately, now that James was paying attention, he was really paying attention. He caught the strange note in his tone and asked, "What do you mean?" 

Sirius shrugged, the lie coming out of his mouth before his brain thought of it. "Her soulmate." 

"Shit. I didn't even think about that." James rubbed at his forehead, but he wasn't dissuaded from the whole idea, Sirius could tell that much just from looking at him. "We'll deal with it when she meets him, but right now there's a baby on the way and we have to think of the sprog first. Besides, she probably won't meet him for years, so we'll be out of the war and the baby will be older and- I mean, everything will be easier, then, you know?" 

No. "Sure." Things weren't going to be easier in three years or twelve, but at least there wouldn't be a war on. Their issues would be smaller, but it wouldn't feel any better for James to be dealing with it. 

*

Lily and James were both in hospital, and Sirius was taking care of Harry while the remaining Death Eaters were rounded up. It was pretty easy since he'd learned all his babysitting talents alongside James's self imposed parenting lessons while Lils was pregnant. Harry was easily entertained by Padfoot, but getting to sleep and waking up were the absolute worst. Harry knew Sirius, no question, but he always wanted Lily when he woke up, and he wanted one of his parents (sometimes both) when he was going down. Sirius wasn't getting much sleep, but it was more than he'd gotten while pulling shifts at the Auror's office in the day then running for the Order at night. 

Harry's soulmark was barely starting to develop, on the bottom of his right foot. It was little more than a grey smudge at the moment, but by his second birthday, the name would be clear. Harry would learn first how to write his name, then how to write his soulmate's. That's how Regulus had learned, and Sirius knew he would've done the same had their parents not been so hellbent on him not attaching himself to James. As always, the thought made him snort in amusement; they'd never been able to control him, not from the moment he was five years old and decided their rules were stupid and outdated. 

Sirius ruffled Harry's hair as he played with two stuffies, his hair already dark and thick on his head. 

*

James was gingerly getting out of the shower when he saw his soulmark for the first time in his entire life. Lily was probably still on the couch, too weak to make it further on her own. He'd offered to help, but they'd separated while hiding from Voldemort in that small house, and things were still awkward between them. Knowing that they cared about each other but weren't in love was just... it made sense but he was never going to admit that to her. 

While in hospital, they'd shaved his head so they could do some sort of surgery or potion soaking, he had no idea. One of the side effects was getting the chills at all times of the day, so he'd had a hat on the whole time. No one that talked to him had seen it, which was why he was frozen in shock when he saw dark writing on the side of his head in the mirror. 

He shuffled closer, tilting his head and leaning in until he was nearly pressing his face against the cool surface. It was hard to read from this distance and with it backwards, but it was a name he knew as well as his own: Sirius Black. 

Sirius? But-. It made sense-- it definitely did, the knowledge that Sirius was his soulmate clicked into place like it had always been there-- but why hadn't Sirius said anything? Sirius knew where his soulmark was, he knew who it was, and he hadn't said anything. James had thought he didn't have a soulmate, but with his name on his wrist, Sirius had proof that he did, so why didn't he tell him? Sure they'd been eleven at the time they met, but Sirius didn't know that James thought he was without a soulmate until they were fourteen; that was three years of being best mates, where Sirius could have told him and didn't. 

He wanted to grab his wand and apparate over to his flat and demand answers, but even with all the healing potions and the two week long stay in hospital, he couldn't move very quickly. It took him far too long to towel dry, and even longer to get his fumbling limbs through the proper sleeves. He pulled the hat on automatically, paused, then pulled it further down. He wasn't ashamed, but he was still too damn cold all the time and if Sirius hadn't told him, he must have a reason. 

James made his way out of the loo and over to the living room. Lily was sitting on the couch, but she'd changed. "How do you feel?" 

"Like I nearly got cut in half," she said, because that was basically what had happened. How she survived it long enough for help to arrive was a mystery to everyone, including the healers. "You?" 

"Like I'm walking through ice." Both for speed and the bloody temperature. "You okay if I go visit Sirius?" 

Lily shifted, then grimaced and held a hand to her stomach. "Try calling him, I'm not sure travelling that far is a good idea." 

They'd both been banned from floo travel and any apparation up to a certain range. Flying was, of course, out of the question. James sighed, knowing she was right. "Yeah." He turned and started hobbling towards his room. It took a while, but he made it, landing on the armchair with more force than he should've allowed himself. He tapped the mirror and waited for Sirius to answer. Harry should be in the middle of his nap, so hopefully there wouldn't be any way for Sirius to get out of talking to him. 

"Hey, what's up?" Sirius asked, his smiling face replacing James's in the mirror. 

"Who's your soulmate?" he blurted out, not wanting to deal with small talk when he could only think about this one topic. 

Sirius blinked, smile fading quickly. "What?" 

"Your soulmate, who is it?" 

"It doesn't matter." 

It doesn't matter. His soulmate was James, and he was saying that it didn't matter. To his face. Well. A little disconnected, but it was still to his face. "How can it not matter?" 

Sirius shifted uncomfortably. "It just doesn't. Since when do you care? We've talked about it, like, twice and it was ages ago. Nothing's changed. At the end of the day, everything is just as it was when we first met, and nothing's every going to come of-" 

"You're full of shite." 

He blinked, taken aback. "I- what?" 

"You heard me, you're full of shite. You have my name, that changes things." 

Sirius's eyes went wide, and he broke the connection. 

"Wait, don't-" 

His face faded entirely from view, and all that was left was James scowling at himself. 

"Bugger." This is why he'd wanted to speak in person. Disapparation was going to be better than trying to floo, so he stuck his head out his door and yelled, "Lily, I'm going to talk to Sirius!" 

"Can't it wait?" she called, only she was smart and used a spell to amplify her voice instead of trying to shout. 

"No!" 

"Fine, but I won't visit you in hospital, I just got out!" 

"That's fine!" Then he closed his door and turned on his heel, appearing in Sirius's living room with a pop. He turned in a circle looking for him, and he stumbled to a halt when he saw him in the kitchen, hands planted on the counter and looking half furious, half miserably sad. 

"You know James," he said, voice low and hurt, "when I ended the conversation, it meant I didn't want to talk about it. It didn't mean 'come over and bother me when you should be home resting'. What are you doing here?" 

"I think it's pretty obvious." 

"You could've hurt yourself. Go back home." 

"And risk hurting myself further? That's not a very good plan." 

Sirius glared at him, but his expression still had that edge of being indescribably upset with him. James had no bloody idea why he looked like that, and that's why he was here. 

"I'm not leaving until we talk about this." 

Sirius swallowed thickly, and even from this distance, James could see his adam's apple bob with the motion. It looked like he was going to say something, so James waited. It took him another minute to figure out what he wanted to say, and his voice was hoarse as he asked, "How'd you find out?" 

James blinked. Of all the things he'd expected to hear, that was not one of them. How the hell did Sirius think he knew? There was only one way for him to know, and Sirius wasn't stupid. 

"I never told anyone," he continued, staring down at the empty counter with unseeing eyes, "and it's not like you've talked to my parents about it. Did you just- figure it out? I was obvious, right?" He gave a humorless laugh. "Too obvious. There's- there's no way you barely figured it out. You must've known for a while." He swallowed again. "Are you taking Harry?" 

James blinked, tried to figure out what the hell he was talking about, then blinked again when nothing came to him. "I have no idea what you're talking about." He walked closer, then pulled the hat off. It felt weird to have his head so uncovered, but it was important for Sirius to see his soulmark. James turned so the mark would be facing Sirius and tapped his finger against it. "I thought I didn't have one." 

Sirius blew out a harsh breath. "Yeah that's because you d-" he stopped abruptly. He must have looked up and seen what James was showing him. "What is that," he whispered. 

"Soulmark." James glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, then put the hat back on to face him. "I never saw it, obviously. By the time it formed I had hair and I never had any reason to chop it all off." He rubbed at the spot on his head through his hat. 

"So- what? You're here to tell me that we should hook up?" Sirius asked incredulously, tears brimming in his eyes. "Did you forget that you're married? You have a family, remember?" 

"Lily and I split." 

Sirius scoffed. "Right cause that's so much better. Being your soulmate rebound." He wiped harshly at his eyes. "No thanks." 

"Months ago. We split before the attack," he added so it made more sense, "months ago." 

"You don't want me James," he said, the admittance sounding too much like heartbreak. "You didn't want me before, and you don't want me now. Go back home. Nothing's changed." 

"Home is where you are." 

Sirius started shaking his head, and when he looked up again, he was angry. He was crying, but he was pissed off. "You're a fucking liar James. I've always needed you a hell of a lot more than you've needed me and everyone's always known that. You moved on. You got buggering married and had a kid, you bought a house, you- and look at me!" he yelled throwing his arms out to gesture to his flat. It was the same one his uncle had given him his last year of Hogwarts, and he'd never bothered to make it truly his. It had his shit in it, and that was it. He didn't redecorate, he hadn't hung up any art or bought a different couch from the one that had been in it since the beginning. 

"There was a war, you didn't have time to-" 

"I had time," Sirius cut in, expression twisting, "but I kept hoping you'd come back and tell me we should get a place. Getting everything I want, aren't I?" 

James walked over and pulled him in a hug. 

"What're you doing?" Sirius asked, pushing weakly against him. 

"You were making me sad," James mumbled, holding him tighter. "You talk like I don't care about you, and you're a second choice to the family I wanted." 

Sirius sniffled and didn't say anything. 

"Like I didn't choose you first. Before we got married, Lily, she- she told me that she knew you were first to me. She didn't even care, can you believe that? It's been obvious all along that we weren't going to end up together. Hell, the only reason we got married was because she got pregnant." 

"Yeah well. That's great for you." Sirius raised his arms to hug him back and turned his face into James's shoulder. 

James sighed, knowing that he'd have to admit something he'd planned on keeping to himself for his entire life, if he wanted Sirius to believe that this wasn't some instant love soulmate bullshit. "I never told you how I felt-" 

Sirius snorted, and James ignored that. 

"-because I knew you had a soulmate. You told me what it meant to you, and I just- I didn't think I could handle that: having you only to lose you the moment you met them. I thought it was for the best." 

"Liar," Sirius said, but it was less accusing than it had been before. "You- you never- it-." 

"I love you," James whispered, and the words hung in the air as tangible as an owl. 

Sirius shivered. "You can't be kidding, James. Not now, not about this." 

"I'm not. I love you, and we don't have to jump into this, but I missed you so buggering much. Not getting to see you every day was torture, please let me stay. Actually," he amended a second later, "you should come home. Me and Lily have missed Harry, and I know you like our place better than this." 

"I don't think Lily would be okay with me moving in," Sirius protested, but it was weak; he wanted to be convinced. 

"Lily likes you better than me," James said. It was a little strange that that was true. "If I'm still living there, you can definitely live there." 

Sirius said, "You're such a prick," but he relaxed against James. 

[mattyfm]

new york’s very own matthew oliver was spotted on broadway street in converse . your resemblance to luke hemmings is unreal . according to tmz , you just had your twenty-fourth birthday bash . while living in nyc ,  you’ve been labeled as being temperamental , but also benevolent . i guess being a gemini explains that . 3 things that would paint a better picture of you would be bubbly laughter, the smell of fresh coffee, & long drives to watch the sunset  .  ( cis male & he/him  )  +  ( monique , 20 , she/her , pst . )

my name is monique i’m both the baddest and saddest bitch you’ll ever meet and i have NEVER written a concise intro in my life, so be prepared for a lot of jumping around, incomplete thoughts, and information you didn’t ask for. without further ado let me introduce you to my angel boy matthew oliver.

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐬

full name. samuel matthew oliver.

nicknames. sam, sammy, matt, & matty (preferred name and most commonly refereed to as).

age. twenty-four.

date of birth. june 17th.

occupation. actor. (i might give him another job eventually but don’t hold me to that)

sexual / romantic orientation. bisexual & biromantic.

birthplace. asbury park, new jersey.

zodiac. gemini.

spoken languages. english.

𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲

samuel mattew oliver was born to two extremely loving parents jeremy and elizabeth marie oliver, arguably one of the most influential celebrity couples known to man, at least that’s what it felt like growing up in the household, everyone was talking about the oliver’s and when they weren’t...well that never happened

as a middle child, preceded by his older brother mason, and succeeded by his younger sister cassandra, naturally he was born with a crave for validation, anything that separated him for his siblings

but naturally in his need to be different he found his closest allies, more so mason than cassie, but eventually she grew on him, and was most certainly not forced upon the dynamic duo of brother by their parents, but believe me he grew to adore her!

childhood was seemingly normal minus the bombarding questions from nosy students who wanted to know what it was like to have celebrity parents or be rich or live in a house with more bedrooms than necessary 

unlike his siblings however matty reveled in the attention way more than he let on, it was nice to be noticed for something, even if it wasn’t quite what he’d been hoping to be noticed for

but by no means was he stupid! he wouldn’t allow anyone to take advantage of him and had an unusual talent for knowing when people only wanted to use his friendship as some sort of gain for himself, and extended this talent to his sister cass, because boy oh boy did she need it

their dad who i forgot to mention was a professor at juiliard, his alma matter, caused a constant bouncing back and forth between their coastal home in new jersey and their urban townhouse in new york

both places felt like home to the trio! they made so many good memories, however matty was extremely preferential to the coast, and to this day maintains a beach boy vibe, swears everything is just better by the beach

going back to his upbringing for a minute high school rolled around for him and mason and he just became even more extremely protective of cassie, he went through things extremely unknown to his family

on the outside he was the model person and student, honor roll, a long glowing list of extracurriculars including sports, even holding down a normal job like everyone else at his high school, and not a single blemish in his criminal record, the squeaky clean olivers remained squeaky cleans

HOWEVER there was some shady stuff going on behind the scenes my guy, nothing too terrible, just the usual teenager with loving parents who raise a troubled teen, not because of any past trauma but a need to feel seen

DRUGS & ALCOHOL TW got into a lot of fight but always told them they had to fight after school, he got into drugs, nothing too hardcore, just weed (is that a weed i’m calling the police vibes).....at first.....but that’s a different story so moving on! he of course drank with his buddies at high school parties, honestly just vibing my guys, just straight vibes always

secret!!!!

CAR ACCIDENT TW & ALCOHOL TW & DEATH TW one day he’s vibing, it’s the summer they’re celebrating another school year complete, and by the end of the night nearly black out drunk at this point, he knows he can’t go home so he decides to get a ride home with a buddy he worked with, tell his parents that said buddy took him home after work, they worked on homework and fell asleep. and honestly had he had a little less to drink, he would’ve realized that his friend was just as drunk as he was, but they drove anyways. this lead to a drunken car accident, that ended in the death of a pedestrian. thankfully his friend’s dad was a lawyer, and they covered that shit up immediately.

after this whole ordeal choose an accelerated course of study to pursue his acting career, finally something people would talk about that would be solely his, like not really, but let him have his moment alright, he was desperate 

lowkey feels guilty about being a hypocrite towards cassie because he’s telling her not to do any of the thing 

ADDICTION TW he almost kicked his habit but getting back into acting and the guilt of having blood on his hands, was too much for matty, and he developed a drug / alcohol dependency, which he recognized was extremely harmful! he went to rehab! and has been very vocal about his struggle with addiction ever since

had an on set romance with a costar that crashed and burned, quite publicly, and was just not good for his mental health one bit! def didn’t help with his constantly teetering sobriety but he managed to get through it with the help of his family and his friends

acting wise he’s starred in a bunch of movies but his baby is the netflix show that he’s been working on, i would like to think it’s kind of a sitcom esque show mixed with the same comedic timing of the office, parks n rec, those kinda self-aware humor vibes

ADDICTION TW he plays one of the main character, and his dipped his toes into directing and writing a couple of episodes, the show truly gives me one day at a time vibes, just brings light to mental health, addiction, important issues you don’t normally see portrayed on tv, and he def plays schneider, the bumbling rich boy who does and says what he’s told, struggles with addiction, has a super childish nature, and just a hint of self-awareness but just a hint as a little treat

this is so ooc but i’m realizing he’s quite literally schneider from one day at a time

MENTAL HEALTH TW & ANXIETY TW has receded from that cool kid persona he once held back in what i refer to as his ‘glory days’ and is now extremely vulnerable to everything and everyone, will literally cry if you even look at him the wrong way. struggles with really bad anxiety, among other mental health issues (which is why his netflix show and he advocate so heavily for mental health!) but is quite literally one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet, softness runs in the oliver family ig.

IS LITERALLY SO CHILDISH....where was once extremely mature for his age....he now copes with his trauma by just acting like a toddler, literally mixes chocolate milk IN HIS MOUTH like a heathen, but that still doesn’t stop him from being fiercely protective of cassie, and will fight anyone for her

currently vibing! filming, being his best(?) self, and making trips to the nj coast

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲

positive traits. accommodating, adaptable, affable, affectionate, agreeable, altruistic, amiable, attentive, caring, cheerful, communicative, compassionate, considerate, courteous, creative, dependable, easy-going, empathetic, exuberant, friendly, fun-loving, generous, gentle, genuine, gregarious, helpful, honest, humane, humble, joyful, kind, lively, loyal, loving, optimistic, outgoing, passionate, playful, reliable, resilient, romantic, sincere, sociable, tender, trustworthy, thoughtful, understanding, and warm-hearted.

negative traits. anxious, amenable, avoidant, awkward, critical, defensive, disorganized, dogmatic, (over)emotional, evasive, foolish, forgetful, forgiving, gullible, headstrong, hopeless, idealistic, impatient, impulsive, irrational, messy, moody, oblivious, (over)protective, sensitive, shy, thoughtless, and weak-willed.

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

here’s some basic plot ideas but we can always brainstorm smth! friends, frenemies, enemies, friends to lovers, childhood friends, ex best friend, costars, unrequited crush, bad influence, exes, one night stand, roommates! i have

[aleapoffaithfiction]

VII.

"You learned to run from what you feel, and that's why you have nightmares. To deny is to invite madness. To accept is to control." ― Megan Chance

“See, Jesus was crucified, just for me.”

While leaning over to the side, I slyly slid another piece of my usual Mentos Pure Fresh “Fresh Mint” flavored gum into my mouth and sighed in relief at the immediate jolt of energy I felt as my teeth broke its round shape apart and the flavoring hit my taste buds. I had to sneak it, because like the child she often thinks that I am, but mother would have held out her gloved hand and viciously eyed me until I defeatedly spit it. According to her, it’s not ladylike to chew gum and especially in church, but I’m going to chew it regardless and I doubt God is concerned with that minuscule vice in my life.

“Give me a piece.” Celeste leaned over and whispered in my ear as she held her hand out and I dropped the bottle into her lap. She didn’t have as much of a chance of being caught as I did because I was sitting in the middle of both she and mommy.

We’re members of Emmanuel Baptist Church over on Lafayette Avenue. It’s right on the corner of St. James Place in the Clinton Hill section of Brooklyn and is under the leadership of Reverend Anthony L. Trufant and his wife Muriel. We’ve been fellows of this church for as long as I can remember and my mother is a good friend of the family; as was my father when he was living. There was even a point in time when I had somewhat of a friendship with their daughters but it was short lived because in my younger years I had far less of a tolerance for people who I cannot relate to. Celeste and I were baptized in this church, daddy’s memorial was here, and Celeste wed her now husband Preston here two years ago. Though I dreaded it, we used to come here every Sunday bright and early so that I wouldn’t miss Sunday school. I was in the youth group for a while but eventually bailed out on having to attend it because I heavily got into sports.

Every holiday season, I was forced to participate in the Christmas Nativity play, where I would play Mary no matter how much I wanted to be one of the Three Wise Men. I met the first guy I would have a crush on here, though it lasted all of a week. I was even apart of the choir for a short run and I’m not even sure why, because I’m no vocal powerhouse. I’m not even a vocal power shed if you let me tell it. Despite my lessening attendance over these last couple of years, I still consider this place to be my church home and it is where I will come back to until further notice.

“Sing it.” I glanced over at my mother as she raised a hand in response to Lucinda Moore’s voice. After days of calling and convincing me to come to Saturday night’s service simply for this concert, I finally agreed for the sake of appeasing her and I can’t say that I’m mad at it. Lucinda can sing from the depths of her gut and never fails to take a praise moment to its highest peak. She’s been in between singing and preaching for about an hour now with a sermon that calls for us all to “meet God all the way” because half-way isn’t going to cut it for anything that we do in life.

“Look at Mr. Weston.” As Lucinda continued to belt her way through “The Old Rugged Cross”, my eyes followed the direction of Celeste’s head and I instantly snickered at the sight of the older man ogling over my mother and her glimmering chocolate skin. Mr. Weston’s been trying his hardest to take my mother’s hand in marriage and yet she won’t even give him enough attention for him to take her out on a Saturday night date. I don’t think it’s her internal yearning for daddy that causes it.

Mr. Weston doesn’t even have finesse within his aging bones to woo her into sitting next to him during Sunday service. Then again, it might be the trifling aspects of who he is. When he received the phone call that his wife had been rushed to the hospital after having a sudden heart attack, he’d been out with his mistress and had the audacity to drive over to the hospital with the mistress still in the car with him. Mrs. Weston passed away that day, but every damn body sat up in here side eying the hell out of him as he wailed over her during the funeral. If it’s up to me, he’ll never date my mother because of all of that nonsense.

Mrs. Williams is the one who wants him. Or is it Mrs. Davis? Maybe Mrs. Wright? I lost count after the third husband. And then there’s her sister Denise who is about the most judgmental person I know. The woman has something to say about everyone’s kids except her own, especially her daughter Tiffany, who has made it her business and life’s mission to snag a baller. She may have secured a couple of hotel stays for some middle of the night fun, but a ring? Not even a Ring Pop. Church is where you’ll find the most hypocrisy but I suppose it makes perfect sense why that is.

“We should grab a bite to eat at The Food Sermon after this.” I’m all for healthy eating but there are just certain dishes that I’m not having in a healthy manner and Caribbean food is that. I’ll be damned if I eat pan seared jerked tofu as a jerk chicken substitute. Celeste and Preston are suddenly super obsessive with their newly started vegan lifestyle and I’m not joining them. It’ll probably be temporary anyway. He’s only doing it because she wants him to.

“Or we can go to Glady’s. Mommy won’t agree with you about that one, because she prefers Glady’s too.”

“Fine, brat.”

“I’ll be that.” I could have chosen somewhere that wouldn’t be in consideration of her new diet if I really wanted to be a brat, but I didn’t. Glady’s has vegetable dishes that should work out for the both of them.

“Shhh.”

I knew it was coming. If her hands weren’t covered with gloves, she might have pinched my arm. I’m always sat in the middle just so she can keep an eye on me because I’m known to find ways to distract myself in church if my mind isn’t completely focused on the sermon or choir. The Lord knows me well. I doubt he have as much of an issue with it as my mother does.

While buttoning the front of my Alexander Wang loose fitting blazer, I couldn’t help but to regret opting out of putting on the wool trench coat that I had laying across the backseat of the car. The nearly end of October air is a lot chillier than I thought it would be. Despite not being someone who enjoys extremely warm or cold weather, I always look forward to the fall because it’s when fashion is at its peak. There’s nothing like a sickening jacket with nice pop of autumn coloring in it, all entirely black look that is sleek, or heavy denim. Oh, and a thigh high heeled boot? Don’t even get me started. Tonight’s dress is a long-sleeved calf length Lowe piece with deep tan, red-orange, and white stripes cascading down it’s form. What really sold me on it is the black lace accents. It’s church friendly and yet if I were going on a lunch outing with Taylor, I’d be just as fine in it.

“Sarai.” Quinton’s hand immediately grazed my shoulder as our eyes met and though I smiled, it was in no way as big as the one gracing his caramel face. Quinton and I went to school together and yet never had any interactions until his father died in the same war that mine did, nearly a year apart. I suppose us dealing with the same level of grief is what served as the foundation of the friendship that we formed. We simply didn’t harbor it as life went on. We barely speak nowadays but I’m sure he’ll say that it’s my doing.

“Quinton. How are you?” We shared an appropriate hug and the fume of his strong cologne instantly made me draw back. It’s not pleasant.

“I’m well. How are you? I see you doing big things.”

“I’m the same. And I’m doing big things? Is that so Mr. Councilman?” He was elected a year ago and is over the Fort Greene, Clinton Hill, Crown Heights, Prospect Heights, and Bedford Stuyvesant neighborhoods. I definitely consider him to be a man of the people, because he could have run for a position within areas like Williamsburg, Dumbo, and Fulton Ferry and won. He’s that well celebrated within these streets.

“I’m not on ESPN though.”

“That’s nothing in comparison to the news coverage about you, the mentoring that I’m hearing you’re receiving from President Obama so that you can run for the Senate, and maybe even the Presidency later on down the line? I think you just want me to brag on you a bit.”

“I won’t stand here and pretend like I’m not flattered.” We shared a laugh that attracted the attention of a few others. I could see my mother eyes lighting up from the corners of my eyes. She’s barely paying attention to what Denise is saying to her.

“You know we’re all proud of you.”

“But you’ve yet to be proud of enough of me to allow me to take you out to dinner. You know we have history.”

That history he speaks of is not our friendship. The summer before we went off to college, we pity fucked one another after having had a conversation about our daddies that left the both of us emotionally drained. Though he wasn’t a virgin, he might as well had been because it was far more of an awkward encounter than it was anything else.

I won’t hold anything about that hot summer evening against him though. No seventeen-year-old boy has the stamina of a stallion and the skills of a veteran porn star within the bedroom. Quinton barely knew who he was personally, so how could he have known who he was as a pleaser? The same could be said for myself.

It was me who decided that we should go on as if it never happened. Hell, it still feels like it never happened. While Quinton is a nice-looking man, I’ve yet to have even the slightest interest in him beyond our occasional run ins.

“Here you go. It’s a timing issue more than anything.” See? I’m a hypocrite too. First, premarital sex. Second? I’m lying right here in the house of God. No matter what the circumstances are, a person will make time for who or whatever it is that they want.

“It can’t always be timing right? We should plan it out so that we won’t run into scheduling issues. I know you’re up there in Bristol a lot and your schedule can be just as crazy when you’re not and you know I’m quite busy myself but I’m willing to make the time for you Sarai.”

Whenever he asks me out, I find myself pondering if we share anything in common beyond what we already know or what we’ll speak about while sitting across from one another at some upscale restaurant of his choosing and I always draw a blank. From there, I snicker at the thought of whispered words about Brooklyn’s fiscal year preliminary budget or development with the deeper urban areas being his dirty talk or pillow talk within the bedroom. That aside, I’m not interested in being his First Lady. I don’t want to play that role, because that’s exactly what it is. Politics is full of actors with empty promises. I’m not saying that Quinton cannot be genuine, but even those type of politicians are just as good of liars as the crooked ones.

“You have my number. Call me. We’ll figure it out.”

“I will. Just make sure you pick up.” That was a cheap jab, but I’ll take it. Out of all of the women within this church who are vying for a chance to be Mrs. Quinton Jeremy Marshall, he constantly comes my way. Maybe that’s something? I don’t know. Only time will tell, but right now, it’s not saying much because I don’t feel anything.

“I will.”

“Hopefully I’ll be able to convince you that we’re a good match before some NBA guy does.” And there it is; the assumptions about what goes on in my life pertaining to athletes beyond work obligations.

“I don’t date athletes.”

“I’m not saying that you do, but there’s no denying that they’re interested in dating you. Unfortunately, I don’t catch the show often, but sometimes I do catch a couple of those one on one interviews you conduct on YouTube and they usually feel like one big lust fest. Doesn’t that make you uncomfortable?”

“I don’t notice it. Also, I feel like people overexaggerate things. These days, you can’t sit a male or female of no relation in the same room without people creating sexual scenarios. That just shows you how screwed up people’s mentalities are.” And that includes you Quinton. I’m not sure if it’s jealousy or indifferent written all over his face, but it’s something. And this is yet another reason why we cannot date. He’s the worst version of an alpha male because there are plenty of sexist undertones within the way he thinks and what he says. He’d expect me to diminish enough of myself in order for him to feel like the man when he’s parading me around some fundraiser or while I’m standing in his shadow as if he gives some speech.

“Or maybe you’re downplaying things. I watched Odell Beckham Jr. stare at you like you’re some type of rare species. I know what those type of looks are about. I am a man after all.” Are you?

“Maybe I am a rare species. We’re not all cut from the same cloth, right Quinton?”

“Maybe so.”

“I’ll see you around though. My stomach is growling and my folks are waiting for me.”

“Don’t forget what I said”

“About timing? I won’t. As I said, give me a call. We’ll figure something out.” And with that, I left him to stare at me as I walked towards the back of the church.

I didn’t feel compelled to hug him again because it would have been lingering on his end and easily would have attracted more attention than I would’ve liked. Despite there being a number of women around here who would love to be claimed by him, oddly, there are people who advocate for us. Even Reverend Trufant snuck in a joke about being willing to officiate our nuptials when the time is right. I’d rather not give Quinton or anyone else any false hope tonight or any other.

Rather than taking three cars, I drove everyone from mommy’s house over to the church. While it may have sounded pointless to them, I insisted that we go back and get Preston’s car so that I’ll be able to drive back to Edgewater right after dinner. I’m tired, cold, and I’m not staying out here tonight. She may have convinced me to come to service but spending the night at either one of their houses can quickly turn into a night of aggravation. I’m so used to living on my own that personality clashes happen as soon as my element is interrupted.

“That Quinton sure is fine.” I knew it was coming. It’d been on the tip of her tongue the entire time she sat in the passenger seat of my car, but I purposefully drowned her out with a couple of classics from Richard Smallwood. I knew she’d quickly began to sing along and forget about hounding me about him, but I should have known she’d only briefly put the thought aside. I can’t even enjoy this peppered shrimp and side of plantains now. Within a couple of minutes, the know it all will add in her warped opinion.

“Isn’t he?” How can she agree with her husband sitting right there alongside her?

“Is he still running for the Senate?” Preston directed that question to me as if I should know. I’ve only heard the rumors and it makes sense. I’m sure councilmen is only a stepping stone for a long running career in politics.

“I’m sure he will at some point.”

“And he’s looking for this one here to be his Michelle Obama and yet she’s running from it.”

“I’m not running from anything. I’m simply not interested. Michelle Obama is amazing and I admire the hell out of her, but not to the point of wanting to mirror her life. I doubt she’d want that for me either. This is a woman who has advocated for women to work hard to be exactly who it is that they want to be.” Michelle was never caught up into the dated traditionalisms of a woman needing a husband in order to look proper in society. She was already a lawyer when she met her now husband.

“And yet here she is, pushing away the one man who actually wants her enough to continue pursuing her.” If I were some tacky reality show chick, I would have made a scene in this restaurant but I won’t for the sake of my reputation.

“The one man who wants me?” I had to made sure I heard her correctly.

“That’s not how I meant it and you know it. You barely put yourself into situations to find someone.”

“I’m not looking.”

“And that’s the problem right there.” As soon as my mother interjected, I dropped my fork into the plate and rested against the back of the seat.

“For who? You?”

“She lives in a house about three times the size of mine and yet she’s in it alone.”

“I live in a house three times the size of yours because it’s what I worked for. I didn’t have to find a man to give it to me. I wanted it and went and got it. It’s not my fault that you can’t relate.”

Initially, I didn’t want to take any shots at her because I respect her lifestyle. She has a career, but it’s no secret that Preston is the breadwinner in their marriage and it works for them. They’re settled, happy, and are beginning to work on trying to have a baby. I rarely if ever label myself with the feminist title, but if I did, I wouldn’t be the type to frown down on women who want to be in the boardroom closing deals or at home raising their children and keeping the house put together. For as long as it is a choice, there is no judgement from me. But Celeste? She takes me there.

“Well lucky for me, I have a man who loves me enough to want to give me amazing things and the best part of it is we enjoy it together. I don’t live in a house three times smaller than yours alone. I don’t go to bed alone. I don’t travel alone. I don’t celebrate my birthdays alone. I don’t have to do everything for myself, whether I’m tired or not, because I live my life without anyone else in it. I have a life partner here with me. Where’s yours? Or did you have hopes that dad would always be the man in your life?”

And this is why whenever people ask me if we’re close, I laugh it off and shrug. I don’t know what we are. After the tragedy within our lives, we continued to grow further apart from the once closeness that we used to have. Even with her gravitating towards mom, we didn’t clash as much then as we do now. Our clashes are typically started by her. It’s the manner in which she seems to pick apart who I am that instantly rubs me the wrong way. It’s not even constructive criticism. It’s simply her being a bitch.

“Your dependency on men has always been at the forefront of your life. If it wasn’t Preston, it would have been someone else. And if it wasn’t that someone else, it would have been another person. I don’t ever remember any point in my life when you were single. So, I’m not impressed. Ya’ll can have this shit, honestly.” I dropped my napkin into the barely halfway eaten plate and immediately stood to my feet. I’d already paid for everyone’s meal as a treat, so I didn’t have to wait for some server to come over with the checkbook.

“Sarai, sit down.”

“I’d rather go and I am. Enjoy yourselves.”

“And this is why I call you a brat. Whenever someone says something that you don’t like or calls you out on your shit, you run.”

“Goodnight.”

“Sarai!” Not even my mother’s stern summoning could influence me to turn around as I walked out in the night. My car served as my solace and the sounds of a Musiq Soulchild Essentials playlist from Apple Music was my soundtrack for my drive home. A blessing of no traffic at any point allowed my arrival time to be just a couple of minutes under an hour.

Let me ask you something. You really think I can come back from this injury? It’s not even a matter of getting back on my feet again because I’m sure that’s possible, but will I be the same player I once was? I’ve been thinking about it and the more I do, the more I really don’t know.

I hadn’t even gotten out of the car when his message came through and as I sat in my seat reading it, I immediately scoffed because I know that is nothing more than his own sulking with a couple of droplets of Scott’s ridiculously biased and purposefully controversial take about some players never being who they once were within their respective sports after surgeries that don’t exactly fix what may be permanent damage.

You’re going to be even better than you were before. We all know that everyone gets a thrill out of a good comeback story but this is more than that for you. You have something to prove to yourself more than anyone or anything else. Your determined spirit will carry you through this and next year, we’re all going to celebrate what you worked so hard for more than we’ve ever celebrated you before. You got this and you know you do. It’s what we’re all a fan of when we speak of Odell Beckham Jr; your keen awareness of who you are and what you’re capable of.

And just like that, I was starting the car. I hadn’t even gone inside to get out of the pumps that are now starting to cause my toes to ache.

Have someone open the door for me. I should be there in about twenty.

It took five minutes over the twenty I estimated because I stopped at Dunkin Donuts for a hot chocolate. I wasn’t cold anymore because the heat in the car had already warmed me up, but I had a taste for it. I even grabbed Beckham a cup.

“Why are you the one answering the door?” I rang the doorbell about two minutes ago. No wonder it took so long for anyone to come and get it. As he leaned against the crutches, Khan and Blackjack were standing alongside him in a protective stance as Mowgli lingered around in the background.

“Nobody’s here but me.”

“I find that hard to believe. You’re never home alone.”

“You’ll be surprised how much I actually am home alone.” As he crutched himself backwards, the dogs moved alongside him in unison to allow me entry into the home. I think they’re starting to get used to me and I’m not sure if it’s a bad or a good thing. I’ve found myself bonding with Eris, who is technically the lady of the house.

“I got you a hot chocolate from Dunkin.”

“Thank you.”

“Uhm.” I noticed we weren’t going downstairs as I trailed behind him. Instead, he made his way into the living room and flopped down on the couch. He’d been playing video games before I arrived.

“Why are you so dressed up?”

“I’m coming from Saturday service.”

“Church?” His eyes widened and he couldn’t mask the few chuckles that followed. What’s so hard to believe about that?

“Why is that so shocking to you?”

“It’s not shocking, but I just can’t picture you going to church on a Saturday night. Maybe Sunday service, but Saturday night? No one under forty is going to a Saturday night service.” Alright. He got me there.

“I went with my mother, sister, and brother-in-law.”

“What’s your sister’s name?”

“Celeste.” I tossed my jacket on the arm of the couch right after placing the Styrofoam cup filled with hot chocolate on the glass coffee table.

“Lace? You sure you just went to church? Lace is more date night.” The lace is in places that most wouldn’t consider sexy. There is no cleavage on display; not even a bit of thigh. I would have been scolded endlessly had I done that.

“Why does lace have to be for a date night? Lace is universal. I used to wear white lace gloves to church when I was about five.”

“You’re certainly not five now.” Our eyes met and I took yet another sip of the warm sweetened drink. Suddenly, I wish it was a frozen hot chocolate.

“Someone did try to take me on a date though.” I’m not sure why I’m sharing this, but we’ve developed enough of a connection to the point where we share a lot of random and sometimes private information with one another.

“Who?” He hadn’t taken the game off of pause yet; didn’t reach for the hot chocolate either.

“Remember the friend who I mentioned to you? The one whose father died in the same war that mine did? Him. His name is Quinton.”

“I figured he was more than a friend when you mentioned him.”

“Why?” We were kids at the time. I didn’t emphasize much more than that.

“I don’t know. I just felt it.”

“Well, believe me when I tell you that we’re just friends. I’m not interested. There was a point in time when we crossed a boundary but nothing more came out of it.”

“Okay.” I was surprised that he didn’t question me about the boundary but then again, he’s just as intuitive as I am most times. He knows what boundary that was.

“He’s a councilman in Brooklyn now. He’s going to run for a seat in the Senate soon enough. Politics are his thing. He’s been trying to take me out for a while. For whatever reason, he thinks we’re a good fit for one another.”

“And you don’t?” As he stretched out his lengthy fingers, I could hear the sounds of a few of them cracking.

“No. I don’t think we relate much. We gel well as distant friends more than anything else. He’s looking for a wife. I don’t want to be that.”

“His wife or anyone’s wife?”

“I don’t know. Marriage isn’t something that I’ve made a part of my plans when I mapped them out. It’s not something that I’ve ruled out, but I’m not necessarily yearning for it either. It’s more of an it is what it is situation for me. You?”

“Initially, it was a big ass no. I wasn’t pressed for it. I watched my pop marry someone and I knew he didn’t want to get married. Ultimately, it didn’t work out for him. Now, I’m not against it. Whenever that day comes, it’ll come. I just want to do it one time when it does come. When I get down on one knee, I have to absolutely know that this is it and this person is going to be the one I’m growing towards wrinkles and diapers with. That shit has to work out.”

I’m sure everyone who stands at an alter and vows their life to someone feels exactly the same way he does. It’s supposed to be final; that moment to seal the deal between your soul and someone else’s. It’s tricky though. That honeymoon bliss eventually turns into tests of tolerance and plenty of trials and tribulations. In being around my parents, I was exposed to many of their friends’ marriages. Sure, they were in love, but I’m not sure if a few of them were genuinely happy.

“That’s fair.”

“So, this Quinton guy, he’s never getting a chance to prove himself? Not even one date?”

“Probably not.”

“What about me?” I didn’t expect it to go that route, but I know it’s been lingering on his mind since we began to bond with one another.

“Everything about us will never make sense and we both know this. Even what we’re doing right now wouldn’t go without question. I’m not supposed to be here or anywhere near you.” He sighed, not in defeat, but in disappointment at the words that I’d chosen as a response.

“How is that?”

“Because it’s a conflict of interest. Did you think that I was speaking in jest when I said that the night, we all hung out after your game? Having a personal relationship with you will easily have me viewed as someone who has a bias towards you and all that you do. I already catch hell for what I said about you, so can you imagine what would happen if TMZ happened to catch up the two us leaving some restaurant or nightclub together? Do you understand what would happen if you were to post or say anything about me on social media beyond whatever it is that I say about you in a professional setting? I would not only be ripped to shreds, but I’d be fired. Why do you think I kept stressing you and the guys about not post anything whenever I was visiting you at the hospital? Why do you think I was sneaking in, so bundled up?” The pictures and videos that are on his phone and everyone else’s are for personal memories. I don’t mind that. I figured they’d be something to put a smile on his face whenever he needs one, just as they do for me.

“Does it say in your contact that you will be fired for any of this?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean that it isn’t against the ethical code and conduct of the company? I would be forced to resign. Not only that, but do you realize how hard it is to be taken seriously as a female sports journalist? If you let the public tell it, I’m screwing every single athlete that I’m standing within five feet of. I’m not supposed to know about sports. You know how many ‘get in the kitchen’ comments I get? Hell, the NFL fans are the harshest. They tell me that I don’t know shit and I belong on my back for a living.”

“Because they’re fucking ignorant.”

“And yet it’s my reality. I’m not trying to nag you about this because I know what I signed up for and I can handle it, but how do I handle standing in front of the president of ESPN and him telling me to write my resignation letter before they’re forced to publicly embarrass me by firing me?”

“Within all that you said, you know you’re also saying that we can’t be friends and yet here you are, sitting here with me. I didn’t tell you to come here tonight. You came on your own.”

“Because I figured you were a bit upset. It’s the vibe I’d gotten in the text messages.”

“That’s the excuse you’re going with? You could have kept texting me. You came because you care and because you wanted to.”

“I do care about you. I just have to wonder how much do you care about me if you’re okay with me jeopardizing everything that I have and everything that I am for you and only you.” Instantly, he turned his head in my direction and narrowed his eyes.

“Me and only me? So, I’m in this alone?”

“In what?” I had to stand up. Not only had the tension in the room thickened, but my legs refused to remain settled. I kept bouncing them in an anxiousness that I couldn’t comprehend.

“Sarai. Seriously? And I’m not asking you to jeopardize your career.”

“Then what are you asking me to do?”

“I don’t…” His ran his hands threw his blonde curls and tightly closed his eyes. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t worry about it. I was only dropping by to check on you. I’m going to go.”

“Sarai.”

He frowned as I grabbed my jacket from the arm the chair and threw it over my shoulders. The quicker I leave, the better off we’ll both be in terms of riding ourselves of the steam. I’m tired anyway.

“It’s fine. I’ll give you a call to see how you’re doing soon.”

“You don’t have to go. That’s not what any of that was supposed to cause.”

“But I do. I need to go.”

Once my clutch bag was secured under my arm, I grabbed my keys off of the table.

“Sarai.”

“Be safe in here. Stay off of your foot.”

I was out of his door before we could exchange another set of words with one another and quite frankly, I’m not sure when I’ll ever walk through it again. I don’t have much, despite whatever people may see or believe. There are plenty of question marks next to a lot of the emotional aspects of life’s necessities but I do have my sanity and everything that I worked damn hard for. If that’s suddenly snatched away from me, then what’s left? A mother who doesn’t know much about me beyond what she assumes or wishes I were and an older sister who doesn’t take me seriously? Much like Beckham, I’m chasing a legacy and I have a lot more to do to make it eternally standing.

One date. We’ll do it somewhere around our old stomping grounds; it’ll feel nostalgic. Next week. I’ll get back to you with the day. Here’s your time.

If I have to choose right now, that’s the choice that makes the most sense.

[grelrik-da-bozz]

starco, something to think about...

Ok, so it has been almost a whole week and I’ve been celebrating about this ‘final’ they brought to the horrible curse that was cast on Marco and star almost 4 years ago.

It really is good to see that the one most affected by the curse (Marco) is finally free of that... disgusting situation he was in, but since we are talking about Disney, and considering what we have seen during the third season there is a huge possibility that they will spoil everything and come with a “we loved each other before the curse” scenario, even though there were no signs at all (specially from Marco) that there was anything but friendship between them.

Now about this bad transition we have three direct responsables!

The first one being the curse of the bloodmoon itself as it was the direct thing to affect Marco's personality and interfer with his decisions after being cast on both Marco and star, they both acted differently, slightly at first and almost unnoticeable on star but on Marco it was... quite obvious specially in season 3! But there were times in season 2 when you were all like “wtf? why did he do that?” Running with scissors is a good example. Follow me on this ok? Marco decides he doesn’t want to return back home as he has a different life in Hekapoo’s dimension (making star useless as now the one who has his attention in the ‘adventure cool section’ is H-poo) but then star asks him “What about your parents or your friends... or... me?” we see Marco do something quite particular... that in this last episode (Curse of the Bloodmoon) had a special sound and now everything is different! Marco had decided already, he was a 31 years old man, had made up his mind, but the curse forced him to change it. And I honestly hated that part of the episode! How come star decided to casually forget mentioning Jackie She should have said “What about your parents or your friends... or... Jackie... or me?” (some people have argued that star had feelings towards Marco before the bloodmoon but most of them base that presumption on the book*).

Now, the second direct responsable is star, for not accepting Marco's advice when she decided to go see what Tom had prepared for that party, even though Marco had already been right many times before about things related to the outcome of how bad everything could be if she continued using magic, doing what she considered right, following her own ideas, etc. and that only because of the Mary sue powers they ended up a-okay. (Honestly she should have at least said "Marco has already been right sometimes I should listen to him this one time, I mean, he is my friend.”) But no, she didn't, and do you wanna know why she didn’t listen to him? Because star is a strong independent “warrior” princess and that makes it all fine, right? I mean as long as a girl says that she is a strong and independent woman it doesn’t matter how much damage she broughts to anyone, we have to see it as positive. So yeah, sarcasm aside, a huge chunk of responsability falls on her shoulders**.

Finally the third responsable for how badly the curse developed are both “the plot” and Daron & the team that helped her, we all have heard some couple of things about the show, starting from the fact that Daron was already quite sure of how she wanted the show to be, she had more or less worked on it in her head since she was... how old 14? 13? More or less a teen age for sure, and therefore had been munching on that bone every once in a while for the last 15 years! Also is worthy mentioning that she said a couple of times that she had changed things during the course of the years but the idea was there, as solid as it could be and with steps she wanted to follow, now, following her trajectory so far and knowing a couple of her works we know she, for some reason, liked to add some drama in her stories***. And also she seems to be more or less on board the “social/genres/let’s-break-the-stereotypes train” although that could also be Sabrina Cotungo, who, by the way, got promoted to director for Season 3 (promoted might be a bad term as what actually happened is that the other two guys in charge of directing the show in Season 1 & 2 left after they finished), therefore took care of some of the importante decisions for the third season and apparently is the one to blame for it to be so... shity, Now I wonder if she was in charge of the story boards in the episodes where there was social drama issues...  Anyway, returning to the topic of blamming the horrible development of the bloodcurse and the third group of responsables, Daron (as far as we can asume) had this idea of Marco being a really tough subject for star when love was in the middle, I wouldn’t be surprised if she actually had planned for her to fall in love with Marco but that she would also suffer about it cause he had eyes for other girl! The thing is they developed in more than one episode the story for that to happen, they made Marco a really brilliant co-protagonist and many felt quite nice with him finally getting to get the chick he wanted, many out there celebrated it, of course there were also starco-fans who hated it, but the thing is we can’t deny the way they two got together was good! ponyhead helped Marco and Jackie to break the ice, to finally have him telling her she was his crush, accidentally of course but she did, star helped as well, but at the end of the episode we had a strong hint that she liked Marco, that was only a hint, something that star had not really gave her mind too much time to think about, she wrote in her diary something about Marco, how she felt about him and didn’t want him to read it because obviosly she probably wrote that she felt something strange, like butterflies in her stomach when seeing him. She was more or less oblivious to how strong her feelings where and I feel like the real issue here is that star was never meant to end with Marco, I feel that Daron wanted her to suffer a little for Marco and then turn the page, to return back to Mewni and continue her life, sad, angry with herself, but ready to give her heart another chance to find a good guy to love.

*: For those out there who don’t know about it, every cartoon of the last decade (perhaps even a little more than a decade) has done some thing(s) like that before, bringing something special or that expands the lore and that exist only in a type of merchandise that you have to buy in order to read and know. MLP, Adventure time, etc. It’s not something “new” that SVTFOE has and in all of those mentioned cases they had been clear about one thing: the book/magazine/comic IS CANON but it is a SEPARATE CANON, they are not interconnected, even if the author says so. Lauren Faust for example! She had said before some things about specific ponies, ideas she had or things she had planned for some moment in the story... but the show has pointed at other direction. So yeah, we can respect the book but we can’t really take it as 100% interconnected canon. **Ok, I have to point something else about this star issue, yes, she is not the only one responsable, some could argue that Tom is the ‘main responsable’ there, but to anyone other there wanting to say that I’d like to know your answer to this: Did Tom plan involved star and Marco dancing? The answer is a huge NO, yeah he is the one who wanted to dance with star, something bad cause he would have never told her that her sudden change on feeling about him was due to the curse, but it was something he had thought for what he believed was the best, he had never thought about Marco being his friend at the time nor did he planned for them to have their souls linked. And,  as people suggest star was already a little bit in love with Marco before the curse so, that would explain why those feelings were slowly increasing in her heart for the latino boy, but then there is a little something I wanna talk about.  Star managed to finally overcome her crush on Marco and decided she wanted to start dating Tom once again, after she tried to dress him like Marco, overcame her addiction to his musk, etc. She returned his hoodie and closed the portal... they could have ended it right there, Marco could have returned just casually and for some episodes, fighting Meteora and stuff. ***About the drama that Daron had done in some other projects she did before SVTFOE, we have at least a couple which are the most well-known ones. There is this short animated thingy where the girl is captured by some folks, they take her away and her “boyfriend/husband/lover/whatever” takes it on his shoulders to go and rescue her, when he arrives and is all ready to break the ‘bad guy’ it is revealed it actually is a Bad girl, a MILFy looking bad girl who acts all sassy with him and in a matter of seconds they are kissing right there in front of the “princess”. The short clearly points to the idea of “hey girls, never expect a boy to free you from a dangerous situation, free yourself and punch his face because you are strong and independent”… you probably understand my point, is not a bad lesson but I feel some other Disney princesses did it a lot, lot better. So anyway, the idea is clear, the ‘main character’ who casually  looks quite similar to star. The second short I remember is this one  where this girl is cutting with scissors some pieces of cloth that other two girls pass her, to work, she is pretty much daydreaming and ends up being fired, her dreams are all like stuff from the 70s you know, way too colorful and stuff (this short is all drawn in black and white) which is fine, but the design and others… makes it feel odd. (Personal opinion). The third one is probably the most famous one, this young girl leaves her house after her older sister tells her to stay away while she sees the pictures of her ex, which seems to be dating someone else, the young girl (has a lizard as her pet, she talks and hears the pet talk) enters a pub and drinks some beverage she steals and has some kind of alusination and gets scared, fortunately the older sister’s ex recognizes her and acts as if he had been looking for her to help her out of the situation, taking her back home and… that’s it. As you can see two of these three shorts have things in common, a protagonist daydreaming with what seems to be ‘magic in her imagination’ which is what we know star was going to do  (she didn’t have magic, they suggested Daron to make the magic real minutes before she presented the story board for the pilot)  and secondly there is some naughty thing going on as both the blonde princess and the older sister seem to “like” their couple/ex while they are kissing/dating someone else.

[dre--scape]

Confessions (Sherlock x reader)

FWOOMP IM BACK MY PEEPS || it may look like i’m inactive but i’m really just procrastinating on homework so i’m active almost all the time but i take so long to write,,, i’m so so sorry ;-;

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes (BBC) x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 1702

Request by anon (a long frikin time ago): Could I request a Sherlock x reader high school au? Thanks ❤️

Summary: Childhood friendships can become very confusing.

Requests are open!

Warnings: slight cursing (two words at most), smidge angst(?)

It was quite funny actually, seeing Sherlock Holmes hang out with you, (Y/N) (L/N).

The sarcastic and -often considered- rude teenager hanging out with the open and charming teen. Most people found it weird, some found it endearing, and others made bets on how long it would take for you two to eventually go your separate ways.

You merely laughed at that. Go separate ways after knowing Sherlock? God, life would be so boring after that. Look at you, imitating your best friend’s vernacular. It was only natural for you to pick up his little tells and habits.

“Sherlock! Watson!” You shouted as you spotted them down the hall.

They both looked up and saw you running towards them, making a scene out it. John could’ve sworn you slapped Sally Donovan on the way there and Sherlock smirked.

“You guys looked like you were going to leave me in this hell hole.” You pouted and Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Well you were three minutes late,” He pointed out. “John insisted we wait for you.” A small grin tugged at your lips as you looked over to John.

“I’ve found my new best friend!” You exclaimed, pulling John into a hug. “Don’t get carried away, (Y/N),” John chuckled, rubbing your arm. “I’m with Mary, remember?” The man laughed as you nodded into his chest. “I said best friend, I never said boyfriend,” You mumbled then pulled away.

Sherlock glanced between the two of you and sighed. “Now (Y/N), if you would stop flirting with a taken man,” The taller boy suddenly spoke and both you and John turned to look at him. “Mother is expecting us at home.” You turned to John.

“You’re not coming?” The blond shook his head and smiled. “I promised to take Mary out tonight,” He said and you grinned. “Such a romantic,” You sighed teasingly, placing a hand over your heart. “Oh well,” Sighing, you took a hold of Sherlock’s hand. “Give Mary our best wishes.” You smiled before you felt Sherlock try and pull his hand out of your grip. John saw this and watched in amusement.

“Why are you holding my hand?” Sherlock asked, attempting to tug his hand away. “And don’t forget to use protection!” You called out, ignoring and dragging the taller man behind you.

“(Y/N)!” A smirk tugged onto your lips as you heard John shout in annoyance.

“Why are you holding my hand?” Sherlock reiterated and you shrugged. “It’s cold.” You said simply. “You’re wearing gloves.” He looked down at your intertwined hands and you huffed in defeat. “Fine.” You reluctantly let go of his hand and your hand limply fell to your side.

“Thank you,” He stated and he pulled out his phone from his pocket. “My mother is asking what kind of tea you were thinking of today,” Sherlock said as he checked his screen. “Any,” You mumbled, keeping your stare straight ahead.

He quickly observed the way your hands fidgeted subtly, the slight frown on your face and the small shiver that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand. Sherlock sighed in resignation.

You weren’t really paying attention. Sherlock obviously didn’t allow physical affection and no affection at all. Hell, he didn’t show anyone any kind of affection. You were no exception.

That was until you felt a warm hand wrap around yours.

Your eyes snapped up to an indifferent Sherlock, who continued walking like he wasn’t holding your hand. You turned your head away from Sherlock, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Are you tired?” You looked up at Sherlock as he rung the doorbell. “Maybe,” You muttered, a large yawn quickly following. He chuckled as you leaned your head on his shoulder. “Maybe?” He asked, a slight edge of teasing could be detected in his voice. “Okay, just a little,” You admitted quietly.

“Where the hell are they?” He mumbled, ringing the bell then knocking furiously on the door with his free hand. “Just use the key to your own home, Holmes.” You giggled tiredly at your own joke which caused Sherlock to roll his eyes once again. “You are very tired.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” You muttered as soon as the door opened. “(Y/N)! Sherlock!” His mum greeted as you let go of Sherlock’s hand. “Mrs. Mum!” You cheered, enveloping her in a hug.

Sherlock huffed out in amusement as all your energy returned. “Come now, we have an array of teas for you to choose!” You laughed sheepishly and waved your hand. “I would’ve been fine with any, I’m sorry for causing you a hassle.” You apologized as she stepped aside to let you in.

“Oh, nonsense!” She exclaimed, rubbing your shoulder soothingly. “You are less of a hassle than my own two sons.” You both laughed and she ushered you in the direction of the kitchen. Sherlock tried to follow until his mum cleared her throat.

He turned around to face his mother, her arms folded. “Aren’t you forgetting anything?” Sherlock scoffed softly, but still gave his mother a kiss on the cheek. “Hello to you too, Sherlock,” She said sternly but lovingly.

“Thank you so much for everything, Mrs. Holmes.” You smiled as she pulled you into a hug. “Of course, honey,” She returned the gesture before pulling away. Your gaze turned upwards towards Sherlock.

You grinned and held out your hand. “Since your mum told you to bring me to the station,” The taller boy sighed before grabbing your hand reluctantly. “Bye Mr. Dad! Bye Mycroft!” You announced, waving your hand animatedly. You saw Mycroft’s eyes travel down to your interlocked hands and a sly smirk spread across his lips. “Goodbye, (Y/N),” The older brother said, nodding his head your way. You stuck your tongue out and smiled graciously at Mr. Holmes before dragging Sherlock out of his home.

“Y’know,” You started, staring up into the rare sight of a starry sky. “I could’ve walked to the station alone.” Sherlock scoffed and looked around at the small town he came to memorize by walking alongside you, “Well, mother would’ve had my head if I let you walk here alone at night, and your grip on my hand isn't much of a help either,” You laughed and swung your arms softly.

Sherlock chuckled at the childish gesture but let you continue anyway.

A few minutes passed before you spoke up. “Why do you do this?” Sherlock turned his attention to you and you huffed in slight amusement.

“Do what-”

“That.”

Now he was genuinely confused, not like he’d ever admit it though.

“Why do you do things differently with me?” You asked as you slowed your pace, letting go of Sherlock’s hand. “You allow me to hold your hand and get intimately friendly, we rarely quip, and hell,” You paused for emphasis. “You give me your attention after I ask one question when it takes John a murder and a breakup!” Your teeth clamped down on your tongue before you tilted your head back, closed your eyes and sighed.

Sherlock noticed how your jaw tightened and how your breathing pattern changed. “We’ve known each other for years, (Y/N), of course I’m going to know everything about you,” He chuckled. “I’m going to know how you like physical attention or how you noticeably get irked everytime you can’t think of an intelligent riposte to an insult,” He watched as your eyes opened, suddenly glossed over.

“Did I offend you?” He asked almost immediately after noticing your response to his observations. “I’m terribly sorry about-”

“That’s what I’m talking about, Sher.”

He froze. You never called him that since year 7.

“You think you know every detail about everyone and every little thing,” You let out a ghost of a laugh. “But you really don’t.” You quickly wiped away a tear from your eye and quickly glanced at Sherlock who obviously noticed it. “I guess I’m just that great of an actor, right?” Sherlock tilted his head, giving away his knowledge of knowing he was dumbfounded.

More tears followed, one after the other, and you merely laughed bitterly. “Goddamn teenage hormones,” You cursed softly. “I’ve fallen in love with you, Sherlock Holmes.”

The aforementioned teen felt a squeeze in his chest. “I’ve fallen in love with your stupid hair and your stupid vocabulary,” He could tell you were running out of the air in your lungs by the crack in your voice. You were close to crying.

“I didn’t want to fall in love with you,” You cried. Sherlock felt the squeeze again when you said that. Was it possible he was actually hurting because of your words? “I really didn’t want to fall in love with someone who wouldn’t love me back!” Your legs gave out from under you and you collapsed to your knees. Sherlock quickly kneeled down to your height before pulling you into a hug.

You continued to cry into his shoulder, both of you ignoring the harsh weather of London.

“It’s alright,” He soothed, stroking your hair. “It’s too cliché,” You mumbled into his coat. “The best friend from childhood falls in love with the main character,” A sour chuckle escaped your lips before pulling away from his embrace.

A biting smile tugged at your lips as you looked up at Sherlock. “God,” You scoffed and Sherlock returned your gaze. “This is like some cheesy romance fanfic I would read back in year 7,” Both you and Sherlock laughed softly and you buried your face in his shoulder again.

“This won’t change anything, right Sherlock?” You sounded so tired, he wasn’t sure if it was even you who spoke. “My confession won’t change anything?”

Sherlock felt your body start to shake and he pulled you in closer. “No,” He whispered, placing a careful hand on your head. “It won’t change anything except my train of thought.” Your head popped up, eyes wide with worry.

“I’m sorry! We can just ignore-” A chaste kiss to your nose cut you off and you only stared at the boy in front of you, who donned a cheeky grin.

“You’re going to be very distracting, (Y/N) (L/N).”

[lordmartiya]

Fox Rain chapter 2

@lilanette-week

@supermenteuse

@emblian

@starcrossed-stardust

Hi guys, I’m back. Today we have Lila’s debut as a superhero-dealing with her own mess in her own peculiar way. Plus, some worldbuilding and a few hints about my headcanon for our fox. by lord Martiya

Chapter 02: The Collector

“Let’s see if I’ve understood what’s happening.” Lila said. “You aren’t a figment of my imagination but the Quantic God of Illusions, for lack of a better term, and what makes the Fox Miraculous more than a jewel somehow older than civilization, your powers are fed by edible seeds(1) in general but you have a very convenient preference for my favorite snack, and you’re here because the Guardian of the Miraculous thinks I can make a good hero… And he took the decision after I went Volpina, WHY?”

“Because he knows that even under Papillon’s influence you were able to sacrifice a near-certain victory to avoid collateral damage(2), among other things.”

It made sense: taking Adrien hostage would have meant the certain capture of those earrings, and yet she didn’t even look out for him. Her grudge had been with Ladybug, and aside a few illusions to lead away interlopers she had gone after her only. Sure, it had allowed Chat Noir to expose the illusion for what it was, somehow (she had known he was smarter than some Ladybug fanboys depicted him, but she had still grossly underestimated him).

“So he thinks that now Ladybug and I will be best friends?” she still asked.

“No. But I know you can be a hero, if given the chance.” Trixx replied.

“I suppose… Well, then, let’s exercise. Trixx, strasfomame(3)!”

An instant later, Lila was replaced with a fox-themed superbeing. And then, she started playing.

“Why are you standing there, Antonia?” Lila’s father asked as he looked at his wife standing before their daughter’s door.

“Right now, she needs to calm down, and not binge on comfort food, then we’ll help her with this mess.” his wife replied.

“Like last time in Tokyo?”

“Do you think it could have gone any better?”

“No. Not really. But she’s been playing that flute since she arrived, and it’s midnight!”

Antonia Rossi sighed. It was still healthier than some things Lila had done to vent her anger.

“I suppose we should involve that friend of hers?” she proposed

“And make Lila sleep before she wakes up everyone.”

Marinette hadn’t slept too much. Between the surprise about her Miraculous, the nightmares about what Volpina could have done (her grandmother hadn’t skipped much about the tales of the two last known holders of the Fox Miraculous), and the very likely chance Papillon was Gabriel Agreste, of all people, she had trouble both falling and staying asleep. If she had some luck, maybe she could try and see what she could do for Adrien if his father was indeed Paris’ supervillain and establish a better relationship with Lila at least in her civilian identity.

“In culo alla balena lì a Pechino, Tigre!”

Speaking of which, she could see Lila standing before the school’s gate, still wearing her necklace and ending a phone call with someone in Beijing(4) who at the very least understood Italian and its colorful ways to wish someone good luck. And apparently she hadn’t slept much either, judging by the bags under her eyes. Eyes that were staring right at her.

“Hi. You’re Marinette Dupain-Cheng, right? I’m Lila Rossi, the new transfer student.” she said. “Sorry for not coming sooner, but yesterday was an “interesting” day even before being attacked by that purple bowtie.”

Marinette looked at the Italian girl, trying to register what she had just called Papillon-and she got exactly the pun right, thanks to her grandmother’s attempts at getting her to speak Italian-before bursting into laughter.

“You were supposed to ask me why did I call your terrorist like that… I guess the other name for the bowtie in French is “butterfly tie”(5)?” Lila asked.

“Yes!” she shouted once she got out of the hysteric laughter. She had needed that. “Sorry… Sorry, it’s just that nobody has ever called him that…”

“I suppose I should add Odysseus to my middle names, then.”

Suddenly, Marinette realized just why Lila had been able to become popular so fast: she didn’t know her well, but she could already tell she was much better with people than Chloe.

“Still, I think I’ll need your help.” Lila admitted. “I realized yesterday I know even less of Paris than I thought when-”

“DID YOU THINK YOU COULD FOOL ME?!” shouted Chloe as she stomped their way.

“Parli der diavolo…” Lila whispered. “I think I know what you’re talking about, but I may be wrong…”

“I’m talking of your supposed friendship with Jagged Stone. Didn’t expect me to verify it, did you?”

And here it was, one of Lila’s lies being exposed. And by Chloe, of all people. Still, Lila was unfazed.

“Didn’t expect you to take me at face value.” the Italian girl replied. “Ask everyone how I reacted after you stomped away, you’ll find I was quite surprised by you taking my sarcasm at face value. Seriously, until recently we never were in the same country at the same time, how did you buy it?”

Marinette’s hand met her face. Apparently, one of Lila’s lies hadn’t been intended to be a lie at all… And she was responsible for making it believable. Well, she and Chloe. That at least meant she should give her the benefit of doubt for the other non-Ladybug related claims, she decided as they walked in, Lila still wondering why Chloe had walked away uttering her catchphrase.

As they walked, Marinette asked Lila a few things about her travels, carefully avoiding her claimed friendships with famous people. Something Lila seemed pleased, even if she was quite reticent about London and the United Kingdom-or “Perfidiously Nosy Albion and its excessively proud capital”, as she had called them, and was startled by the presence of a British transfer student.

“Let’s just say I had a few bad experiences there.” Lila said. “Enough it’s since six AM that Tigre and Silvie’ have been pestering me to make sure I don’t shut myself in again. But let’s talk about something nicer. Any idea why Chloe reacted that way when I explained I had been sarcastic about Jagged Stone?” Marinette had a nervous laugh, and decided to explain: “Well, it’s a funny story, that started with one of Chloe’s stunts. When we-”

Marinette was interrupted by Chloe’s shriek, and she and Lila ran to the class, Mari expecting she had caused another Akuma… But it wasn’t that, but something Marinette considered much worse. Gabriel Agreste was better not being Papillon, or she’d make him pay for this one too.

During the lunch break, Lila walked around the school’s courtyard wondered about the situation, and the mess she was partly responsible for. She remembered the book with information about the Miraculouses-pretty much all Italians would have recognized the Fox Miraculous holder everyone called Donna Volpe, the one that had become Italy’s national hero in 1943 and was still so loved that her hairstyle was still imitated(6), and with the others the deduction was easy-that she had taken with the intention to give Adrien a scare when she fished it out of the thrash, and while she was pretty sure it had been Ladybug to retrieve it before her it was still her who had taken it. And now, Adrien, who she had heard had been kept trapped in his home by his overprotective parents for most of his life, had been pulled out of school over it. She needed to fix that. And she was coming up with a plan, in case Gabriel Agreste ended up becoming someone else’ problem. She’d have to run it to Trixx, but she was confident enough. She went to a closet to talk with her kwami-but before she could, she was pulled inside by Ladybug.

“Have you heard of your boyfriend and are going to give me the full blame for it too?” Lila asked her.

“No.” Ladybug replied with a sigh. “Well, I’ve heard, but I just hoped to find out why you’re so furious.”

“With you? You know exactly what you’ve done. But that I suppose could be secondary, compared to the fact I may have found out who the evil bowtie is.” Ladybug snorted at the joke. “Namely, Gabriel Agreste.”

“I know, it was the book.”

“You see, it’s been a while since I, and my mother and a few others, have suspected a connection between him and Papillon.”

“Good to know, but I know where the book is from.”

“Specifically, since when Gabriel Agreste publicly proclaimed he’d not change the butterfly logo of the sports-dedicated offshoot of his brand(7) and proclaimed he’d not be intimidated by a butterfly-themed terrorist and the next four Akuma villains Le Signeour des Poches, Le Bulleur(8), Pocketless, and Mr. Pocket were people angry at him, a few mistrustful minds have wondered if he set up the whole thing to throw off suspicions, something reinforced by Pappy’s designs often being so tacky you’d swear he’s a designer doing bad on purpose to throw off suspicions.”

“You’re right, but I know where the book is from.”

“And then, suddenly, Adrien Agreste has a book with a portrait of Donna Volpe and other Miraculous Holders alongside nonsense words written in Nyctographic(9) and ROT13(9). Didn’t realize right away, what with having already a bad day before the idiot took an antique book to school, was planning to terrify him with the appearance it had been stolen before fishing it out of the thrash, but I dare say that’s quite the big hint. Don’t you think?”

“I’ve been telling you for a while, I recognized the book and know where it comes from.”

“Oh. Monologuing again… Anyway, considering past patterns, I expect that if Gabriel is indeed Papillon he’ll akumatize himself to throw off suspicions before the end of the day.”

Ladybug looked at her, seemingly put out by Lila’s mistrusting and apparently paranoid mind, but then admitted it made far too much sense.

“Still, I don’t like it.” she admitted.

“Neither do I.” Lila replied. “And I may have a plan to fix it, if Gabriel is innocent.”

“And how do you t-”

“LILA ROSSI, PREPARE TO DIE!”

That shout in a somewhat familiar voice left Ladybug frozen mid-phrase, her twitching eye being the only thing that moved. Then, her irritation easily surpassing the one she had shown when she had shouted at Lila, she pushed the Italian girl away from the door, put herself in position to jump anyone who entered, and cried out: “Lila, don’t talk, she’s after you!”

As Lila’s face started showing her outrage at the heroine revealing her position to her aggressor the door was busted away from its hinges, revealing an Akuma villain looking like a blonde girl in glasses and a red dress she was sure was out from some manga-and then Ladybug picked a picture of Adrien from her pocket and ripped it, revealing the Akuma that was promptly caught before dragging the now de-akumatized girl to two older students bearing a clear resemblance to Marinette and Adrien, summoning a stress ball with the Lucky Charm, and zipping away as the two students dragged the girl away, completely ignoring her screams that it was because she had tried to seduce “her Adrien” that the boy had been pulled from school.

“Cazz’è uscito dall’ovo de Pasqua?” Lila whispered as she tried to register what had just happened.

“I understand you’re trying to settle in, but don’t you think getting Akumatized and attacked by Rose Bride in the first two days of school is rushing things?” the mayor’s daughter quipped.

“Uh? You know what that thing was about?”

“I suppose Ladybug wouldn’t like to talk about it… Fine, I’ll explain. That was the Rose Bride. She’s actually named Zoe Chevalot, but with how often she gets Akumatized only the teachers call her that anymore.”

“Nobody sane, I meant. Anyway, she’s Adrikins’ most annoying fangirl, and gets Akumatized out of jealousy so often nobody could keep count.”

“I did.” Cesaire pointed out from distance.

“Nobody sane, I meant. Anyway, to anyone else the attacks tend to blur together after a while, and Ladybug gets so furious she leaves as soon she’s done and the Lucky Charm is always a stress ball. She’s also convinced that Adrien is Chat Noir because it would be cool.”

“E quanno la capano alla palazzina?” Lila asked, slipping into her native dialect out of surprise.

“I suppose you’re asking why they haven’t committed her yet?”

“More or less.”

“Easy: she’s the only daughter of the prefect of police, and while the ministry of the interior turned the police over to daddy’s control until Papillon is dealt with because he’s better at the job(10) he still holds enough power that Gabriel Agreste couldn’t even file a restraining order.”

“Ah. Uh… What about the Akumatizations and settling in?”

“Sweetie, the only ones in our class who haven’t been Akumatized at least once are Adrikins and Marinette. Speaking of which you’re better watch everything you do with her today, she’s been targeted by Rose Bride so often her attacks make her murderous for hours. Seriously, she should grow a thicker skin, to surpass the attacks Rose Bride made on me she’d need to combine them with Ladybug…”

Lila’s palm met her face, hoping things wouldn’t get any worse.

Not even five minutes later she managed to have a chat with Trixx, who revealed that a Miraculous Holder is immune to their own power-and thus Papillon couldn’t Akumatize himself. So much for that plan. Well, she could still have fun with it if Gabriel did end up Akumatized. Now, if only she could find out why Papillon Akumatized the prefect’s daughter so often…

“Sir, I don’t like to repeat myself, but Mlle Chevalot is too stubborn to get scared away from your son by repeated Akumatizations, and the prefect is surprisingly stupid when it comes to his daughter.” Natalie said to her supervillain boss.

“Doesn’t matter, Natalie, sooner or later the government will have her committed.” Papillon replied. “But I supposed you aren’t here for that.”

“No. I just wanted to inform you that Adrien has already ran away.”

Papillon smiled. Finally he could go on with his plan to throw off suspicions without endangering him-assuming he wasn’t Chat Noir, of course. And thinking about plans he decided to attack the Italian embassy: he needed Volpina for his greatest plan if everything else failed, and if Lila Rossi wasn’t festering in her room as he had expected she could calm down… And as he couldn’t afford that, he would have to make her collect more anger.

Papillon gave a brief laugh at his pun before preparing the Akuma-and change himself into The Collector.

“THIS IS RIDICULOUS! UTTERLY RIDICULOUS!” The Collector shouted as he dodged another burst of autocannons.

Thanks to his work travels in Italy, Gabriel Agreste had experimented that, as a reaction to the Years of Lead and other events Italian law enforcement had become frighteningly efficient when it came to terrorist threats, and he had been expecting their embassy to have tight security, especially as his actions as The Papillon were technically terrorist attacks. But the moment he entered the gardens of Hôtel de Boisgelin he had been attacked with heavy machine guns and anti-aircraft autocannons. Those he could tank easily, but if they shredded the book he’d lose his transformation, and he couldn’t expect them to stop firing in time. The anti-tank rocket-firing cannons, on the other hand, were a bit more dangerous, but easier to Collect.

He noticed a glow on the side and moved, just in time to avoid an attack that could have not been Collected and would have destroyed the book, had it hit.

“Who’s still using flamethrowers(11)?!” a feminine voice shouted

“Exactly!” The Collector agreed, before recognizing the voice and turning to see the very surprised Ladybug and Chat Noir, with (of course) Alya Cesaire filming them-from outside, as one of the soldiers was keeping her out. “Finally! I am the Collector, an-OUFF!”

The Akumatized villain was hit in the gut and thrown back by an invisible projectile, that was revealed as a car engine when it became visible in a familiar orange glow. As he looked at the two heroes he saw someone else becoming visible-the actual new user of the Fox Miraculous. He could see she had a passing resemblance to both his Volpina and the previous user, especially the suit-that he had to admit he had copied entirely. There were also many differences: rather than a reddish-brown Marilyn hairstyle she had a full orange “pel di volpe”; then the tail wasn’t a belt but an actual fluffy tail-that for some reason had caught Ladybug’s attention; finally, she was wearing a bomber, an unlatched modern military helmet decorated with fox ears and goggles that covered the mask (assuming she had one), and her gloves had some kind of padding on the back.

A moment later, as the defending soldiers-and the female Carabiniere with tan skin and platinum blonde hair in long pigtails (of all hairstyles) directing them-ceased fire in surprise and apparent awe, Ladybug got her eyes away from the tail and asked the newcomer who she was.

“I am Vorpika!” she presented herself before pointing her flute at The Collector. “The only superhero this gargante dressed Armanicomio needs!”

“Hey! It’s The Papillon’s fault, not mine!” The Collector protested, a bit defensive over the horrible outfit he had given himself.

“I don’t care. What I care is to show Paris what the real Holder of the Fox Miraculous can do!”

At that, The Collector was curious. And worried. He knew the Fox Miraculous had the power to create incredibly realistic illusions, and an experienced user could create dozens of easily dispelled ones (like the ones used by Volpina) without triggering her timer, but what the 1943 user had done in Rome hinted that flute had other abilities, that or could be used for various spells.

And as she started playing, he could see strange creatures emerging from the ground around him. A horrifying monster that was best described as Sulley from Monsters, Inc. after having his character design revised by Lovecraft, an absurdly tall tree-like humanoid with a white nothing in place of the face, a… A Klingon warrior with an exaggerated forehead crest, white feathers covering his body and a duck bill?!

At that, The Collector realized Vorpika was using pre-set illusions to make it look like she was summoning monsters and turned to her-

“Yoink!”

Only to have the half-Klingon half-duck one grab the book and disappear in an orange glow to reveal the actual Vorpika inside, who promptly kicked him through a wall. As he felt the transformation dispel, Gabriel noted the presence of a woman with a certain resemblance to Lila and a rather large man that reminded him of someone, the former holding a gun on him and the latter cracking his knuckles. Then, as the three heroes and various soldiers-including the Carabiniere-came in and a white butterfly flew away, he asked if Adrien was well.

“That would depend on your provisions for your arrest, Cravattino di merda.” Vorpika addressed him.

Oh, crap.

Ladybug had been surprised, and positively impressed, by the new superhero from Italy-with a name like that, the origin was pretty obvious to her and pretty much everyone at the embassy(12). She was, on the other hand, a bit worried from her assumption that Gabriel was Papillon-apparently, her kwami hadn’t told her yet that they were immune to their own powers.

“Now, why I would think that? I mean, Papillon’s identity is protected by the magic of the Miraculous.” Vorpika continued. “The first incident was when, shortly after Papillon first appeared, you declared you wouldn’t rename the Gabriel Butterfly sub-brand or even change the color of its symbol because you wouldn’t be intimidated by a butterfly-themed terrorist, and the next four Akuma went after you. Could have been a result of the fact you and the terrorist share a horrible temper, or that you, as Papillon, decided to be clever and, to add another layer of protection to your identity by making it appear you were being targeted. I believe I’m not the only one here who came to suspect you for that.” The last phrase was underscored by her pointing at the woman who had been holding Mr Agreste at gunpoint even before Vorpika and her fluffy tail-Ladybug slapped her temples to regain focus-started talking. As Ladybug noticed Gabriel was starting to sweat, Vorpika continued. “So, when I arrived in Paris, I decided to keep you under control, and while I’ve not mastered all my spells yet I can already use a lesser version one of the Pied Piper’s tricks. Nothing much, and it’s easily blocked by the magic of even an inactive Miraculous, but enough I could put a hypnotic command into your son’s mind to have him look around for hints and report, and guess what? He discovers you have a coded book on the Miraculouses, book that is now in my hands.”

At that Ladybug frowned, Vorpika didn’t have the book, she had recovered it after Lila put it in th-That was the moment Ladybug realized that before her, clad in the magic costume of the Fox Miraculous Holder, stood Lila Rossi. Who was seeing her theory confirmed. After noting that Chat too seemed to have caught on that she decided to intervene before the unpredictable girl could decide to assault Gabriel, but Vorpika, who was enjoying Mr Agreste’s discomfort, signaled to let her finish.

“And not even twenty four hours after I retrieve the book, you are Akumatized.” Vorpika continued. “Clearly, you are Papillon who was spooked when his little handbook disappeared and thought Ladybug was onto him and decided to throw her off by Akumatizing himself… That would be what I’d think if I didn’t know for sure he cannot do just that.”

For a moment, everyone could just hear the surprise caused by Vorpika’s final declaration. Then Chat, the first one to recover, shouted what everyone was thinking:

“WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!”

“To see him squirm.” Vorpika explained with a smile. “I mean, he raised his son under such isolation he became naive enough it was believable he wouldn’t realize that bringing an antique book to a school was a horrible idea.” Ladybug caught herself nodding at that. “Speaking of which, why did you have it?”

“I… I found it in an excursion in Tibet with my wife.” Mr Agreste explained, still shocked by Vorpika’s stunt. “I used it for inspiration a few times… It’s a dear memory and-”

“Say no more. I need it for a while, but I suppose I can give it back to you in a few days. In the meantime you should upgrade your security, lest it ends in the hands of that Papillon der grillo coi fiori’n mano.”

Ladybug mentally completed the quote(13) thanks to some of the Italian movies her grandmother had shown her during the lessons of Italian, and found herself once bursting into laughter at Lila’s insults for Papillon.

“Everyone, sorry for the mess. Would fix it, but I cannot.” Vorpika said. “Ladybug, could you deal with this and meet me with your partner over Eiffel’s apartment?”

“Could you explain the book part?” Chat asked right away as soon as they were all three over Gustave Eiffel’s apartment at the Tower and Vorpika had admitted she had only just received the Miraculous-and spent the whole night perfecting the trick she had used.

“Adrien Agreste was that naive and brought the book at school, and, to give him a scare, I had decided to fish it out of the thrash before his eyes.” she said. “In hindsight it was an incredibly stupid idea, but in my defense the day hadn’t started out well and that kind of things just drives me mad, so I wasn’t thinking straight. Still, even with Ladybug taking it before I even got to that point I had to claim my responsibilities, possibly in a way that would cover for that adorable fool, and certainly before Ladybug came up with something that would get her in trouble.”

Ladybug had to admit to herself she had been planning to walk up to Mr Agreste as Marinette and claim full responsibility-and get in trouble with someone who could blacklist her from the fashion world.

“I was planning to do something that would have got me in trouble…” Ladybug admitted. “Still, thanks. And welcome to the team.”

As she said that she offered her hand to Vorpika, who slapped it away.

“Make no mistake, Ladybug, I’m not going to forgive you for what happened, right here.” she said. “Trixx, my kwami, said I could have been mistaken, but it’s now clear I was right. And that I cannot forgive, that and just how I admired you, and the fact you’ve been checking my butt for half the fight at the embassy.”

Ladybug opened her mouth in shock and embarrassment horror. She had no idea what Vorpika meant about what happened last time on the Eiffel Tower, but was all too aware of what else she was referring to, and the truth was possibly even more embarrassing.

“I-I-I wasn’t!” Ladybug said, blushing but not too willing to tell the truth.”

“Pretty sure you’ve been filmed.”

“But-I-I WAS LOOKING AT THE TAIL! I really wanted a pet fox as a child but my parents couldn’t let me have it.”

Vorpika and Chat looked at her, silent in the surprise.

“That’s so cute…” Chat whispered.

“Iiii-I have to agree.” Vorpika said. “At least you aren’t a pervert… But as I was saying, I will help you, I will even follow your lead in combat, you aren’t stupid enough to waste this power, but once we’ve dealt with Papillon, we’re making gloves. Alla prossima.”

With that Vorpika left, leaving the two other heroes behind.

“My Lady, what did she mean?” Chat Noir asked.

“She wants to beat me up when we’re done.” Ladybug explained.

“No, with the insult. Unless you met more time than I know?”

“Not transformed, and I have no idea for the insult.”

“Hope she comes around soon. And I could procure you a pet fox, if your parents have changed their mind.”

“CHATON!”

“So, it worked?” Natalie asked her boss.

“Yes. But it was a close call.” Gabriel admitted. Then, remembering his secretary was more versed than him in the various trivia of Italian culture, he asked her something that had been nagging at his mind: “At one point Vorpika called me, and I quote, “Papillon der grillo coi fiori’n mano”, and everyone at the embassy started laughing, do you have any idea why?”

After processing what her boss had just told her and completing the quote, Natalie proceeded to explain. Hearing the shout, Adrien decided that maybe he wouldn’t ask Lila about the “grillo” thing.

The following day Lila had found herself to what her best friend, that she had graced with dozens of Tiger-themed nicknames, had told her was the best bakery in Paris, and where she had pre-ordered a sunflower seed cake-if they had actually pulled that, the Tiger had actually understating their ability. The previous day had been a trip, and she needed her sweet.

As she was paying she saw an unexpected sight-Marinette running out from the back of the shop.

“Marinette? What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I live here, it’s my parents’ bakery.” she replied, just as surprised to see Lila. “What about you?”

“I’ve been told this is the best bakery in Paris, and I’ve decided to see if it’s true or the Tiger understated things as she sometimes does. Almost forgot, I have some interesting news: Adrien should be back at school today.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Lila confirmed, finding herself surprised at how she liked the happiness on Marinette’s face. “Heard from Ladybug that the new hero, Vorpika, was accidentally responsible, and she has admitted it. Fancy coming with me at school? You still have to tell me why did Chloe believed me when I made that joke about Jagged Stone.”

Lila wondered why Marinette’s face fell in embarrassment. Then Marinette’s father produced a copy of Rock Giant, and both Marinette’s sudden embarrassment and the whole situation with Chloe were explained. The Italian girl supposed she could like Paris, after all.

Notes

(1)Trixx’ recharge food is based on Inari, the Japanese fox god of fertility and rice plus many other things added in the later forms of their cult, and comes from rice’s valuable part being the seed. As for why they prefer sunflower seed… That’s for me to know and you to wonder about-and groan when you find out. :-D

(2)That’s one of the things that make me believe Lila, at least at her debut, is nowhere near as evil as some paint her: even during akuma-influenced madness she refused to cause collateral damage, even as it ultimately cost her the battle, and concentrated herself on Ladybug only.

(3)Headcanon warning: I see Lila as someone from Rome, and I have both an Italian-Romanesco dictionary and some basic knowledge to write her some phrases in that colorful dialect. Her particular transformation phrase is only the start.

(4)French still uses the first Western romanization “Pekin” for Beijing, and Italian still uses a name derived from it.

(5)As I said more than once, I call Hawk Moth by his original name specifically because “papillon” in Italy is the bowtie. Sadly for Lila’s (and my) plan for a longer joke, the main French name for that tie is indeed nœud papillon, literally “butterfly tie” (the same as in Italy)…

(6)How I explain Lila’s resemblance with that Miraculous holder: it’s on purpose out of admiration at the holder. So admired that the name Lila refers to her with means “Lady Fox” (or “Fox Woman”, but in the ‘40s it would have been definitely the former). The actual superhero name will be revealed at a later date.

(7)The secondary logo for Gabriel is indeed a purple butterfly. Considering it appears on Adrien’s sneakers and our favorite model has made sportswear pictures (such as the one where’s in boxing gear), I reserved it for the sportswear.

(8)In the US version, the Bubbler.

(9)The actual codes used for the writings on the Miraculous Spellbook in the series-that in-universe are obviously a different code not based on Latin alphabet and Indo-European languages.

(10)My personal fix for just why Andre Bourgeois has authority on Paris’ police when the French capital doesn’t have a local police but only a special detachment of the national one depending from the Prefect of Police: the prefect has screwed up enough that his superiors don’t trust him anymore but not enough to get removed, hence them passing the actual authority to the mayor.

(11)As of 2017, the Italian Army still had the Tirrena T-148/B flamethrower in active service. Demolition and anti-tank weapon, supposedly.

(12)Yes, Vorpika has a very specific meaning in Italy. What it means shall be explained in the story.

(13)On FF.Net and AO3 I did not provide a complete quote nor a translation to protect this fic’s rating, as outside of Rome it’s a very vulgar joke... But this is tumblr, so... The complete quote, a common (if vulgar) joke on the Italian movie “Il Marchese del Grillo”, is “Il Marchese del Grillo, coi fiori in mano e il cazzo a spillo”, and translates literally as “The Marquiss del Grillo, with flowers in the hand and a pin-shaped dick”.

[nth-generation-kpop]

Stupid Cupid

Chapter I 

Summary: Han Jisung introduced Eurydice to Orpheus at a lavish summer festival. He struck fire in the hearts of Odysseus and Penelope. He schemed in the study group of Marie and Pierre Curie and kept Bonnie and Clyde’s drinks flowing. He passed beautiful love letters between Oscar Wilde and Alfred Douglas. He orchestrated passionate love that lasted late into life, aged like fine wine– that “grow together” type of love. And he’d seen men more hopeless than Bang Chan and Seo Changbin. Jisung has a job to do, but he can’t resist taking on some side projects in the meantime.

Happy Valentines day!! <3 

“You’re not old enough to drink, are you?” Jisung gestured at the glass in Hyunjin’s hand as he unwrapped his scarf, sliding into the booth across from the other.

“You know very well that I am far older than that, Han Jisung.” His friend’s face was more youthful than he’d ever seen it before, with big, round eyes and a soft curve to his jaw, though the annoyed expression was the same. “But no, I’m not. I’ve gotten myself assigned to a pair of star-crossed lovers in a high school nearby. I thought the aesthetic of meeting up with an old friend after 2,000 years more important than the details. This is soda.”

“You always loved your aesthetics. Has it really been 2,000 years though?”

Hyunjin smiled. “Nearly, what was it? The 5th century? We crossed paths when you were on Guinevere and Lancelot, and I was finishing up Tristan and Isolde?”

“I did always love your work. It’s a shame humans turn love stories into tragedies.”

Hyunjin snorted, sipping from his glass. “Imagine my surprise 500 years later when I heard the story retold.” The story books never got it right.

“If I wasn’t there for it, I’d chastise you for sloppy work.”

“Trust me, you wouldn’t be the first. What are you working on at the moment?”

The waiter dropped off Jisung’s drink as well and he smiled, waiting for them to be out of earshot before he answered. “Multitasking. I’m cultivating a future Cupid, which was the main assignment, but I’m staying with two boys who are entirely helpless at love.”

“That sounds fun. Low stress, high reward.”

“It is, I’d definitely recommend it. If it wasn’t for the side project, it’d feel like a sabbatical.”

“A future cupid, so that means he’s been spurned by love then? Have you figured out why he’s jaded yet?”

Failed love was most common by far. Future Cupids were broken souls, broken hearts, who went on to be healed by truly remarkable love-- if they allowed themselves to be open to it. In Jisung’s experience they most often did not, which is where the current Cupids came in. He didn’t even remember his own colossal heartbreak, by the time he had his colossal love he probably couldn’t remember it, but he did remember his first love. He thought about it often, fondly.  Bringing that to people is why he loved his job so much, and why he couldn’t imagine doing anything else.

Jisung shook his head. “He’s complicated, but I have an idea of what it was. Failed love, not his own, and… shattered faith.” He smiled. “I’ll just have to put it back together I suppose.”

“Playing matchmaker then?”

Jisung wrinkled his nose. It was straightforward. Find a nice person, not a soulmate but a good-for-you short-lived love, work their Cupid magic and restore faith in relationships. Sometimes the best thing for a person is to date someone they’re never meant to end up with. He had a feeling that wouldn’t work with Minho.

“Not exactly. I’m just planning to point out all the beauties of love, make him see that sometimes heartbreak is necessary, and that true love is worth the risk. If that fails, I suppose ‘matchmaking’ is my backup plan. Minho… he just seems too resistant to the idea for such a direct fix.”

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “Minho, huh? Your charge?” Jisung made a nose of agreement. “So you’re getting attached.”

Jisung waved his hand noncommittally. “You know how I am.”

“I do, and you’re getting attached. Have the “powers that be” caught on yet?”

Reluctantly, Jisung answered. “Of course not, I wouldn’t still be here if they had. I’m good at hiding it, I haven’t been sanctioned in centuries.” He didn’t want to admit it, but Hyunjin had always known him better than he knew himself. He could hide from his bosses, but never from his friend.

“You get overly attached to them all, I wonder if this will be the one that will bite you in the ass.” It wasn’t judgmental, more teasing. In all reality Hyunjin hoped that it worked out. He could barely even remember the spectacular love that made him a Cupid in the first place, but Jisung had always been irrevocably in love with the emotion itself. Hyunjin wasn’t sure if his friend could distinguish where the love of love ended and everything else began.

“I wouldn’t be the first.”

“No, you wouldn’t. Be careful they don’t pull you off the assignment.”

Jisung grinned at that. “When have they ever figured out what I’m up to before I’ve done it, my friend?”

“Fair point, but as I said: there’s a first time for everything.”

“I’ll be safe. And you as well.”

Hyunjin scoffed, downing his drink as if he were trying to pretend it was aged whiskey instead. “How much trouble can I get into? I’m 16.”

“Take a sabbatical when you’re done! You’re probably due for one, right? Just one lifetime, spend it resting and cultivating love in your spare time. It’s freeing.”

“You might be onto something there. Anyway, I’ve got to get back. I have foster parents.” The accompanying eye roll made Jisung laugh again, standing up to hug his friend.

“Don’t be a stranger. Once every 2,000 years isn’t nearly enough.”

“I was going to say the same thing. Good luck.”

“You too.”

~~~~~

Chan and Changbin didn't usually make a point to meet up for lunch, both too busy with their class schedules and part time jobs, knowing they'd most likely see each other in the evenings anyway. But today was a special day. Today marked the 1-weekiversary of their new roommate Han Jisung.

The two boys had been best friends nearly since birth, growing up as neighbors of similar age-- they knew from living with them could be hard. Their first roommate Brian fared pretty well, but when he moved out he told them that they'd developed habits they knew didn't bother each other, but that they never stopped to consider whether it bothered him. Changbin hated dishes, so he left them for Chan to do whenever the elder got around to them. In turn he did Chan's laundry, a fair trade for everybody but Brian, who was constantly washing dirty cereal bowls and praying he didn’t knock over the towers of laundry all over the living room. They apologized and he waved it away, saying he should have just said something but they seemed to have a good thing going. On his way out, Brian suggested a two bedroom.

The second roommate…. Well, Chan and Changbin had scrambled to replace the second roommate after only a couple months. Everything seemed fine, and then a few weeks in it absolutely imploded and the two were left staring at the rubble of their roommateship (and their sanity) wondering where it all went wrong. It started with Seowoo nagging Chan to go to sleep, saying that the noise and the lights were bothering him-- nevermind the fact that Chan tried his best to be quiet and his room was at the other end of the hall, door shut, with only his desk lamp on. Then it was Chan’s cat, which was actually also Changbin’s cat but Seowoo ignored that and complained constantly to Changbin about how dirty and smelly it was. Changbin promised to clean up after her more, but Seowoo was adamant that she was disgusting and there was nothing Changbin could do to help. Chan is so dirty, Chan is so loud, Chan is so boring-- they weren’t sure what exactly it was that set him off, whether Chan and Changbin’s friendship upset him too, but he latched on to Changbin and… didn’t with Chan. Suddenly he wouldn’t speak to Chan, he simply rolled his eyes and left whenever they were in the same room, and when they finally sat him down and brought it up to him it was the explosion of the century. He told Changbin he felt betrayed and insisted he had done absolutely nothing wrong. Why should he be expected to get along with them all the time? Why shouldn’t he be able to voice his opinions? Why was he being attacked for nothing?

And he was gone the next day. Chan came home from classes seemingly just after Changbin, who he found standing in the doorway of a completely empty bedroom. Seowoo wouldn’t answer their text messages or any of the phone calls. After a couple days, it looked like he wasn’t coming back, and they contacted their landlord-- unfortunately they were required to cover the rent if he didn’t show up, but they promised to take Seowoo off the lease if he didn’t put up the money.  

Which he didn’t.

Enter Han Jisung, a friend of a friend who heard all about their roommate situation on several occasions. Jisung had called Chan directly, saying that he'd been having trouble finding a good place to live at such an odd time in the year, a couple months into when leases normally began. They agreed to meet up and maybe show him the place, and after a short introduction and confirmation from the friend that he was a good kid (read: not an ax murderer), Chan and Changbin brought him over for the very short tour and gave him a copy of the lease to look over. It was actually Jisung who brought up the trial period, though he suggested a full month and they agreed right away. After that he'd sign the lease, as long as they “worked well” as roommates. When he'd left, Chan and Changbin struck up their 1 week no discussion policy, to give him a fair chance without their reservations and past roommate failures clouding their judgment. It turned out to be a good idea, Jisung turned out to be a lot to get used to.

Changbin started it off. “...so the new guy.”

Chan nodded. "He's a bit odd"

“Yeah, just... as a person, a bit strange isn’t he?"

"But he's clean and he paid his rent and he's nice enough," Chan added quickly.

Changbin agreed immediately, and they lapsed into silence. "He bakes, did he tell you he bakes? That's definitely a plus, and he isn't disruptive or annoying."

“I say we have him sign the lease.” There was something off about the guy, Chan always felt like despite seeming completely transparent, he was hiding something. Still, he didn’t seem dangerous, and Chan had a feeling this was a good thing.

Changbin was even less confident, less willing to risk anything after the weeks of being pulled in different directions between his friends, standing on the edge and not knowing whether to take sides as he wanted to or try and keep the peace. Seowoo had left him paranoid and a bit guilty towards Chan. He felt like maybe he hadn’t done enough to mediate the situation, or he was too neutral. Jisung seemed different, though. He seemed more involved, he wanted to get to know Chan and Changbin, but he still understood boundaries and their need for space. He seemed kind-- he really, really seemed harmless. If he shook things up, and Changbin sensed that Jisung might, it may be for the better. In the end, he thought, the risk would be worth it.

“Me too.”

And so Han Jisung became the third resident of their little apartment, and thus began the most eventful year of their lives.

~~~~~

“Changbin.”

The older boy looked up from the pan, where he’d been half-heartedly nudging around bits of chicken in an attempt to ‘stir fry.’ “Yeah?”

“Are you a hopeless romantic?” Jisung’s tone was lilting, almost artificial as if straight off one of those made-for-TV movies.

“Uh, no.” Changbin squinted at his roommate as the latter huffed and pouted, wrapped around a throw pillow that Changbin hadn’t remembered seeing before. “Why, are you? Is anyone actually?”

“Of course I am! Everybody should be.”

“And why’s that?”

Jisung pouted again, gesturing to the laptop in front of him. “Because love is beautiful and wonderful. I love love.”

Changbin couldn’t help but laugh, turning back to his pan. “What are you watching?”

“A movie… you might think it’s dumb, but it’s about a couple who meet by chance in a shop in a big city, and it turns out that the shop is magic and by... the universe’s happy accident they keep meeting, over and over again, until they fall in love.”

To Jisung’s surprise, Changbin answered “That sounds nice.”

“Would you want to watch it with me? I’m only a few minutes in, but I don’t mind restarting it. I’ve seen it a million times.” Changbin wasn’t sure he’d ever heard Jisung sound… well he couldn’t tell if it was shy or nervous. Excited, curious, enthusiastic, sassy-- so much sass-- but genuine vulnerability was new. Changbin always felt like maybe Jisung knew more than anybody else in the room, somehow always a step ahead. Regardless, it sounded completely unlike the polite, bubbly boy he’d come to know over the last month. When he looked up from cooking, he met big hopeful eyes and knew he wouldn’t be able to say no.

“Sure, just let me finish cooking?” Changbin made a face at the pan-- it looked nothing like his mother's.

Amused, and maybe a touch sympathetic, Jisung said “...we could order takeout.”

“Yeah, we should do that.”

They started the movie just as Chan got home and roped him into it as well-- unlike Changbin, he admitted to being a hopeless romantic outright. They’d taken the liberty of ordering Chan’s usual as well, and their food came in the middle of the exposition.

It was a good movie, objectively. The plot was decent, the characters were really well developed, and some of the scenes were cheesy, but good cheesy. Chan loved it, and was very vocal about the fact which made Jisung incredibly happy. Changbin was a bit more non-committal, just shrugging and saying “it was fine” when Jisung asked what he thought. He said it was a feel good movie, and that he was happy to have an impromptu movie night with them. Chan threw a plastic spoon at him and said “humbug” at his answer, laughing when Changbin threw it back and smacked him directly in the forehead. Jisung just smiled at him knowingly-- he could feel how happy the movie had truly made Changbin, and how something suspiciously like hope tugged at the boy’s heart each time the couple met and fell deeper in love. And Jisung didn’t know it, but by the time they split off to get ready for bed that night, Changbin admitted to himself that yeah, he is a little bit of a hopeless romantic underneath it all.

Lying in bed that night, Jisung considered his two… projects, you could call them. His friends. He was pretty sure Chan was ready for a relationship, despite needing a little help with the logistics of getting a boy to fall in love with him. He’d be the perfect charge for a Cupid, ready to fall in love at the first sign of something. He just needed a nice boy, a slightly forward nice boy, to fall into his path. His shyness held him back more than anything.

Changbin would be a bit more difficult. Jisung would have to find someone he could spend a decently long amount of time with, and it would be a slow progression. He needed to warm up to someone before he could even start to fall in love, be friends first no doubt. He’d have to be coaxed into it, subtly because Seo Changbin was the reactionary sort-- if he realized he was falling in love, Jisung didn’t think he’d let it happen.

And he decided that they’d need a little preparation first, or at least a situation Jisung could evaluate them in. They’d been living together for nearly a month at this point, so he had a pretty good idea of how the boys functioned-- frankly, they didn’t go out much besides classes. Both were busy with school and work and the clubs they were involved in. (Jisung considered trying to set them up with people from those places, but after a bit of snooping on the potential candidates, he decided each one was for one reason or another a resounding no.)

Which made objective number one convince them to go to the bars with him.

~~~~~

A soft knock on his door pulled him away from his assigned reading. “Chan?”

“Yeah, come in!” Jisung opened the door, peaking at what Chan was up to.

“Sorry for interrupting,” he said, gesturing to the book, which Chan immediately closed and put aside.

“No, it’s a welcome interruption. What’s up?”

Jisung perched on the edge of Chan’s bed, twisting one of his rings around his finger and biting his lip. “I kind of have a favor to ask you? And Changbin when he’s home.”

Chan smiled. Jisung was incredibly cute when he was nervous. “Yeah, of course. What is it?”

"Well, I'm going out with a guy Friday, not really as a date but as a ‘my friends and I are going to the bars you should come with’ type thing? Or, well he said to bring some of my friends so I thought I'd invite you? We're friends right?"

“Yeah! Yeah, we’re friends. That sounds fun.”

“Really? I know the bars aren’t really your thing but I thought you might have fun… and if you don’t we can leave, I just… I mean it’s the first time he and I are kinda hanging out.”

“And you want some backup? I’m kinda flattered.”

Jisung smiled. “I really do consider you a friend, I’m not just coming to you because…”

“Because we live together and you know I don’t have plans this weekend?”

“Right, I think it’ll be fun.”

“Me too, don’t worry! And Changbin will say yes if you tell him I’m coming. He’s kind of a baby about social situations involving people he doesn’t know,” Chan teased.

“He’s cute when he’s shy! He should use it to his advantage.”

“If he could use it to his advantage, I have a feeling he wouldn’t be as shy or as cute.”

The knowing look popped up on Jisung’s face as he stood up. “He just need a little training.”

With a loud ‘thanks!’ Jisung slipped out of the room to do god knows what, and Chan had to laugh. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was so much more to Han Jisung than he could imagine.

Friday afternoon rolled around and found Chan laying across his bed, mindlessly scrolling on his phone when Changbin quietly opened his door without warning and slipped into his room. Before he even got a word out, Changbin blurted “he’s picking out my clothes” in a whisper.

Chan laughed, sitting up. “What are you talking about?”

“Shh, I don’t want to offend him! You’re coming right?”

“Yeah, of course,” Chan assured his friend, frowning. “Do you not want to go?”

Changbin hesitated. “I don’t know, it’s not really my... scene.”

“Me neither, but he needs friends right now. And maybe it’ll be fun!”

Yuna meowed as she walked into the room, passing through Changbin’s legs and rubbing against his ankle. Being okay with cats had been the first roommate test, and Jisung passed with flying colors. Yuna, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure about Jisung yet.

Bending over, Changbin scooped her up cradled her in his arms as she meowed at him again. “You get to stay home, Yuna. Can’t I stay with you?”

“Nope. Come on, it’ll be fun,” Chan assured him again, standing up.

“He’s picking out my clothes, Chan,” Changbin reiterated, glaring.

“I bet he’s doing a better job than you would be.”

Dressed and ready to head out the door, Changbin had to agree that Chan had been right-- he looked really good. It was still cold outside, so Jisung chose a long sleeve black t shirt under a black button down with silver buttons that must have been his, tucked in with a simple black and silver belt. Paired with dark grey skinny jeans and Changbin’s own red-lined combat boots, his thin frame looked flattering instead of scrawny, and the copious amount of black wasn’t overwhelming. Yeah, he looked really good, so much so that he was kind of excited to go out-- a strange, entirely new feeling.

Chan obviously agreed, letting out a low “damn” upon entering Changbin’s room. “Jisung said to give you these, and to convince you to let him put eyeliner on you. I promised him a 50% success rate.” He handed Changbin a set of silver glasses with circle frames.

“Thanks, and honestly… I’m inclined to let him do whatever he wants after this.” Changbin looked at himself in the mirror again. “Are you sure his major is Literature and not… fashion design or something?”

“That makes me feel better, he’s in with Yuna picking out my clothes too.”

“Yeah, don’t be too worried,” Changbin said, shoving his phone and wallet in his pocket. “Yuna’s warmed up to him?”

Chan nodded. “She’s letting him hold her now, at least. He says she’s helping him, anytime she meows he says ‘no, you’re right he’d look better in something else.’ It’s kinda weird.”

“Yeah, well it’s Jisung. I’m just glad she doesn’t swat at him every time he tries to pet her anymore. I ran out of bandaids.”

“Yeah, I think we’re in the clear with him.”

The two smiled at each other after a second. “Yeah, I think we are.”

Chan ended up dressed… not dissimilarly to Changbin. Jisung apologized, cat in arms, saying he didn’t think they’d look too matchy-matchy, but he could pick something else if Chan didn’t like it. In a long white button down, untucked, with black skinny jeans and a pair of oxfords he rarely wore, Chan waved him off saying that he liked Jisung’s choice and he looked too good to change. Plus they were going to be late if they didn’t leave soon. Jisung hummed, narrowing his eyes at Chan before setting Yuna on Chan’s bed and relenting. As he left the room to change, Chan grabbed his things and gave the kitty curled up on his pillow a goodbye kiss. Somehow, Jisung was dressed and ready to go in less than five minutes, and the three were off.

The bar was loud and crowded, even this early in the night. As he bumped into the third person in less than a minute, Changbin had a feeling that it would only get worse, and that he needed a drink. A glance at Chan told him the other was feeling similarly, if a bit less anxious; and Jisung seemed to pick up on it quickly, making a beeline for the bar. He ordered them a round, opening a tab and telling them to charge it for the night-- they could settle up later. By some miracle they found 3 empty bar stools and sat waiting for Jisung’s boy and his friends to show up, chatting as they sipped their drinks.

Changbin glanced around apprehensively, the feeling in the pit of his stomach growing a bit. He felt out of place. Beside him, his friends sat so casually, not seeming to notice his small inner turmoil. You look hot, a voice whispered inside his head. It’s okay to have fun. You’re not out of place, you certainly don’t look out of place. You’re branching out. And you’re here to have fun, loosen up. You can do this.

Changbin downed the rest of his drink and looked up to find both Jisung and Chan staring at him. “Sorry, what?”

“There’s a guy at the bar and I think he’s checking Chan out but Chan thinks I’m ‘crazy,’” Jisung said, subtly gesturing with his finger quotes. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Changbin shrugged, casually looking over and catching a guy glancing towards Chan curiously. “Yeah, I mean I think he’s checking you out. He looks like the ‘come here often?’ type though…” Jisung snorted, agreeing. Perhaps Changbin wasn’t as clueless in the matters of love as he’d thought.

“I mean, I look hot. I wouldn’t blame him for checking me out,” Chan teased, winking at Changbin who rolled his eyes.

“It’s the eyeliner!” Jisung almost stood up with the force of that statement. “Changbin I’m telling you, if you would have let me--”

“Are you saying I don’t look hot?” Changbin cut him off, raising an eyebrow.

“Wh-- no! No, no of course not. I dressed you, didn’t I?” Changbin laughed and Jisung realized he was being teased. Fiddling with his straw in his drink and averting his eyes, Jisung mummbled, “Just saying you would have looked hotter if you’d cooperate.”

“Next time,” Chan suggested, and Jisung narrowed his eyes at Changbin.

“Next time, I promise.”

A grin spread slowly across Jisung’s face. “I’m holding you to that.”

Laughing, joking with his friends felt so comfortable that he forgot to be stressed about the bar and the noise and all the people-- yeah, Changbin could do this. Minho showed up not too long after, but he and Chan fell in with some of Minho’s friends, drinking and talking together both with and without the couple. A few drinks, and the group spilled out onto the dance floor-- the apprehension all but gone, feeling confident, Chan and Changbin went willingly and without hesitation.

Jisung, on the other hand, stayed at the bar with Minho, half-heartedly sipping their drinks as they’d both expressed the desire to keep an eye on their friends. Jisung had been put into many of the same classes as Minho on purpose, and had gotten close to him for obvious reasons. When the boy asked him out, he was surprised, but deemed it the perfect opportunity to kill two birds with one stone: learn more about Minho and give his roommates a little test run. They chatted, starting with talking about their friends and how they’d met. Chan had been doing surprisingly well, though Jisung would agree that he was the more social of the two. He wasn’t being flirted with by any of Minho’s friends, and Jisung had been preventing anybody from approaching him directly on purpose-- he wanted to ease them into the experience, so he’d pointed out people checking them out but… deterred them otherwise. It wasn’t control, just influence. Cupids worked with feelings, confidence and happiness and attraction, but the love that they sparked wasn’t the life-altering, earth-shattering variety-- unless it grew that way on it’s own. True love blossomed on it’s own.

Jisung felt Changbin’s panic from the moment they entered, but with a little help he relaxed as well. An artificial boost in confidence from Jisung’s direction even sent them both boldly out onto the dance floor, their newfound friendships with the others from the group helping a great deal.

As they spoke, Jisung gave Minho the rundown on how he’d become roommates with the two boys, and how it was currently his mission in life to get them to go out more, maybe meet some people.

“I don’t mean to make them sound like hermits, they’re just…”

“Shy?”

“Yeah.” Jisung smiled and glanced over his shoulder. “And not particularly confident, even though they’re both amazing! I have the bad habit of trying to play matchmaker with people I care about.”

“What about you? No confidence issues ever?” Minho teased.

“Nope, I’m too confident for my own good.”

Minho caught his eyes, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “I like that.”

Jisung felt the tips of his ears go red as he looked into his drink. “Good.”

“Good.”

When Minho excused himself to go to the bathroom, Jisung took the opportunity to skip onto the dance floor as well, surprising his two roommates but barging right in between them in the middle of a song. Scanning the dance floor, he decided it was maybe time to push the envelope, selecting a cute boy dancing near them who was clearly interested in Changbin-- one who he could sense had a good heart. He used a little bit of his mojo to encourage the boy to make a move, albeit a subtle move. He had a feeling Changbin would be a bit of a baby deer when it came to being hit on, making anything too forward out of the question.

He watched out of the corner of his eye as the boy inched his way closer and closer, eventually bumping straight into Changbin. His roommate looked up with big eyes at the stranger, who flashed him a sweet smile and began to introduce himself.

Changbin, however, cut him off with a quiet apology, moving away from him to a space on the other side of Chan. Oblivious.

Jisung’s sweet boy frowned, dejected, and moved off the dance floor back to who Jisung assumed was his group of friends, and before Chan and Changbin even came off the dance floor the boy was gone. Dejected himself, Jisung spotted Minho on his way back to the bar and wrapped his arms around both of his roommates, telling them he was having so much fun but he had to get back. They sent him off with winks and go get him’s, still under the impression that his date was the whole reason they were here.

Minho asked how his friends were doing and he let out a huff of air. “Not entirely hopeless, but they don’t inspire confidence. Yet.”

Eventually Jisung shooed Minho off to go dance with his friends for a while, saying that Chan and Changbin were probably dying for an opportunity to come over and interrogate him on how everything was going. He was right of course, and only spent a few moments alone at the bar before his roommates landed on either side of him.

“Is it going well? Do we need to bail you out of here?”

Jisung laughed and shook his head. “It’s going really well. Why, are you guys ready to leave?”

“Not really,” Changbin said as Chan ordered another round. “We’re having a good time. I’m glad we did this.”

“Hey, I saw that guy talking to you on the dance floor? Tall, light hair?”

Changbin laughed, shaking his head. “No, it was nothing. I just ran into him. He was cute though.”

“You should have made a move! I bet he would have danced with you.” Chan seconded him, but Changbin waved them both off.

“I just ran into him! Really, it was nothing.”

“I think he was checking you out earlier, but okay,” Chan added.

Jisung scanned the bar for a beat, then spotted the guy who has been checking Chan out earlier in the evening, still sipping a drink. He wasn’t drunk, and he wasn’t too sleazy-- just forward. He seemed like a good option for Chan, as good as the sweet boy he’d sent to Changbin. Just something to test the waters. A little nudge to catch his attention and a bit of encouragement, and both Jisung and Changbin caught him approaching. Jisung took the full drink in front of Chan saying “you’re not going to need this,” and smiled at a confused Chan as he sipped it, turning to talk to Changbin.

“Hey, uh… I’m Joonho.” It took Chan a second to realize that the man speaking was talking to him, actively trying to catch his attention by leaning on the bar to his left, and holding out his hand. Chan shook it and introduced himself, smiling politely.

“You look really familiar?” To his right, Jisung cringed and Changbin snorted, though Chan was too busy studying Joonho’s face to notice, trying to remember having met before.

“Oh, um… well maybe we had a class together? At the university, I’m a in the International Policy?”

“I’m going for business admin, so maybe that’s it! I just couldn’t place you, so I had to come talk to you.”

“Yeah, that must be it. Lots of business classes…” Chan looked at his friends awkwardly, not knowing how to continue the conversation. “Or… well our classes are probably in the same building.”

“Yeah, maybe I’ve just seen you around… but I feel like I would have remembered someone like you.”

He smiled shyly, wishing Jisung hadn’t stolen his drink so he’d at least have something to do with his hands. “I don’t know, there are a lot of students on campus, especially in the business program.”

“Not many as gorgeous as you.” It hit Chan like a slap in the face and he looked up at the guy wide-eyed, taking in the flirty smile.

“Oh, uh” was all he could muster, with a little laugh.

“So could I buy you a drink?”

Chan nodded, mouth opening and closing like a fish before he choked out a, “Yeah, I’m drinking-- well, I was drinking rum and coke.”

While he ordered, Chan shot a look of panic at his roommates, receiving two unhelpful sets of thumbs up in return. Chan turned back to watch the bartender make their drinks, then picked his up and awkwardly clincked his glass with Jooho’s.

And it all went downhill from their. By the time his drink was half gone, Joonho had made a lame excuse, thrown out a ‘it was nice meeting you’ and hightailed it out of there. Chan groaned as he left, leaning his head on Jisung’s shoulder.

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“No, it was worse,” Chan insisted.

“It was pretty bad,” Changbin supplied, and Jisung glared at him. “What? The guy was cheesy anyway.”

“Binnie, you’re not helping,” Chan pouted, downing a good portion of his drink.

“At least you recognized that you were being flirted with.”

They both eyed Changbin, who shouted “I just bumped into him!”

Chan made a noise of discontent and Jisung could feel his discomfort growing. He and Changbin seemed to take a turn for the worse, neither of them enjoying this quite as much anymore, and Jisung looked at his watch. “We should go.”

“We can stay,” Chan offered weakly, clearly ready to leave but not wanting to drag Jisung down with him.

“No, it’s late! I’m tired, and I gotta play a little hard to get to keep Minho interested. Come on, onto the dance floor for one more song and then we’ll head out.”

Chan left his half-finished drink, and they ended the night on a high note. On the way out, Minho promised to text Jisung for another date the following week, and he planted a kiss on the boy’s cheek in return.

Chan teased him on the way out. “Teach me your ways.”

“Trust me boys,” Jisung said, slinging his arms around both of their shoulders with a grin. “If I can’t get you boyfriends, nobody can.”

[southsidewrites]

The One with All the Kissing (Sweet Pea x Reader)

Summary: Pretty much exactly what the request says, first fic in my Southside Serpents as F.R.I.E.N.D.S. series.

Word Count: 1184

Request: “You know Friends the tv show? Well how about this. A Sweet Pea imagine where the reader and him have a secret relationship and one day he gets up to leave and forgets that they aren’t alone and kisses her. But everyone is like THE DITTLY FUCK WAS THAT. So he proceeds to kiss everyone.”

Author’s Note: Thanks for the person who requested and @arielle-mari for ideas!  This is like my favorite scene in all of Friends, so I hope you enjoy it!

Read this Fic on A03 or Below! 

My Masterlist

~~~~~

You rested your head on the dingy couch and took another sip of your beer.  It was starting to get late, and it was a school night, but none of you wanted to leave the Whyte Wyrm yet.  A bunch of kids had just been initiated, and everyone was having too good of a time.  You were sitting on the couch next to Sweet Pea, a careful few inches of space between you.  Ever since you'd started dating, you'd both been hyper-aware of your behavior when you were together.  The last thing you needed was for everyone to know, especially after Toni had made everyone swear off friend-group dating after a particularly awkward game of truth or dare.  

You hadn't tried to get together—it just kind of happened.  The two of you had been friends since you were kindergarten together that Southside Elementary, so when the River Vixen he'd been enamored with broke his heart at the beginning of senior year, you were there for him.  A few late-night Pop's trips later, you found yourself making out in the parking lot behind the diner.  It was exhilarating until you remembered that you had all sworn not to date.

"C'mon, Pea, it's been how long since you've had a date now?  Three months?  Four?  I'm worried." Toni was giving him an amused look from where she was sitting on the empty pool table. "It's unlike you to go so long without finding some desperate Northsider trying to piss off daddy."

Sweet Pea rolled his eyes, and you saw his grip on the arm of the couch tighten. "I'm taking some time to myself, Toni."

"Bullshit," Jughead replied. "They've just realized that you're a living, breathing bad idea."

Fangs laughed. "Or maybe he's secretly in love with someone, and she's rejecting his desperate ass."

"Ha, ha, guys, so funny," Sweet Pea drawled, taking a big sip of beer. "At least I'm not dating the sheriff's son."

"I wouldn't say we're dating," Fangs replied defensively. "Just friends."

"I usually don't touch my friend's dicks," Jughead remarked. "Like, never, actually, but if that's what you consider friendship, I may need to reconsider ours."

Everyone laughed, and Toni redirected her gaze to you. "And what about you, Miss Forever Single?  Any guys breaking through your walls of unapproachability?"

You rolled your eyes.  Being a Serpent, and a Serpent that spent a lot of time with Sweet Pea, you had a bit of a reputation for being un-dateable.  Only the bravest guys made it through your tall, angry best friend, and those who did never seemed to last long.  You had never minded, though, especially now that you did have a boyfriend.

"I'll have you know that once again, I've sworn off guys."

"And what did we do this time, Y/N?" Jughead asked.

"Well, Reggie Mantle asked me if I wanted to Netflix and chill with him after the basketball game.  I legit thought that was just something people on the internet said."

Toni laughed, shaking her head. "That guy's just gross.  You'd think he'd have grown out of it by now."

You sighed, pulling your legs underneath yourself and resting your arm on the couch behind Sweet Pea. "I guess I'm just doomed to be alone."

Sweet Pea smirked, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.  Of the two of you, you were by far the better liar, having had to cover for his slip-ups on more than one occasion.  Luckily, no one seemed to be suspicious yet.

A phone rang, and Sweet Pea groaned. "I swear to god, if that's F.P." He tugged the phone out of his pocket and climbed off the couch to talk to him.

"Looks like someone's missing class again tomorrow," you observed, watching as Sweet Pea paced around the back of the bar, his phone pressed to his ear.  You felt a twinge of worry for him—he looked stressed, and although he wouldn't admit it, he hated missing school for Serpent jobs.

"I just hope it's not a two-person job," Fangs said. "I have a math test first hour that I'd rather not make up."

A moment later, Sweet Pea walked back over and slumped onto the couch. "Well, it looks like I need to go make a run to Greendale."

You frowned, doing your best to look like no more than a concerned friend. "Leaving now?"

He nodded.  Then, not thinking, he turned to you, grabbed your cheek, and pulled you in for a kiss.  A brief moment later, he pulled back with a smile. "See you--" His eyes widened in horror, and you both turned slowly to look at your friends.  

Their jaws had all dropped, leaving all five of you sitting there like a bunch of dumb-ass frogs trying to catch the world's slowest flies.

You didn't know what to do—no lie would cover this one.  Then, Sweet Pea sprang into action crossing over to the pool table, grabbing Toni's hips, and pressing his mouth to hers for a kiss.

Toni's eyes were wide, and her hands were frozen at her sides.  Sweet Pea was giving the kiss his all, and she had no idea how to react.

What the--?

Sweet Pea broke away. "See you later, Topaz."  Then, he moved to the chair where Fangs was sitting, grabbed the front of his leather coat, and pulled him to his feet for a startlingly passionate kiss.

Fangs seemed slightly less surprised than Toni, but he was still frozen in place as Pea kissed him.  His hands lifted like he might push him away, but he wasn't sure that he should.

Your eyes were darting around, trying to read your friend's expressions.  If they had been shocked before, now they were goddamn befuddled.

Sweet Pea broke away from Fangs, grinned, winked, and turned to face Jughead.  His eyes fixed on his friend who looked about ready to leap out the window.

"Oh no, big guy.  No fucking chance."

Sweet Pea shrugged, still smirking. "No problem, Jones.  You'd probably be a shitty kisser anyways." He looked around at everyone, his gaze resting on you long enough for a quick wink. "See you guys later." He strode to the door, a subtle swagger in his step.  If he had any anxiety about kissing his friends, it sure wasn't showing.  

Tall Boy, who had seen the whole encounter go down, was giving him a skeptical look, his eyebrows rising in unamused distaste.

"Tall Boy!" Sweet Pea grabbed his face with a grin and planted a kiss on the older man's lips. "My man, see you later!"

You nearly choked, gasping loudly as you watched your boyfriend walk unharmed past a confused, pissed off Tall Boy.  The whole bar was staring now, and the only sound was the music from the jukebox.

A moment later, Fangs snapped his jaw shut. "What the fuck was that?" he asked, still reeling from Sweet Pea's dramatic exit.

You shook your head dumbly. "I have no clue."

Jughead had a look of disgust on his face. "I need some new fucking friends."

~~~~~

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, check out my Masterlist.  You can also let me know if you’d like to be added to my Sweet Pea taglist. 

[marsreadsthings-blog]

“Great Expectations” by Charles Dickens

Did you miss me? Did all 2 of my followers think I was dead, kidnapped, or on hiatus? I wasn’t, I was just slowly plugging away at this novel whilst keeping up with my studies, fitness stuff, creative outlets, blah blah blah. Life, right? I’m not here to bore you, I’m here to review and rate this book. 

Preface: It has come to my understanding that many high schoolers were as well as are currently made to read this for curriculum. I am happy that I did not have to, because reading it for pleasure instead of homework made my reading a lot more thorough and appreciated than it would have been otherwise, since everybody knows that you tend to dislike the books you are “forced” to read. (Though this isn’t the case for me. While others drooled and squinted sleepy, drowsy eyes over “The Old Man and the Sea”, I quite enjoyed it. Same goes for Pride and Prejudice. I chose to write a research paper on that book so, I must have liked it to some degree.. pst, the review is on here somewhere, in fact it may have been the last one I posted! Don’t quote me on that, just go read it if you haven't!) 

So, let us jump right in.

Charles Dickens is an impeccable storyteller. This novel and to my knowledge, most of his written work came out in monthly installments. This was the equivalent to the movies for people in the 1800s. Absolutely marvelous this man is at crafting characters, their motives and a story that is enriching for the reader and enjoyable. I love how it spreads across many years, so you feel like you are watching Pip grow up and go through his childhood, his teenage phase and so on. If you don’t fancy longer novels, I wouldn’t say to stray away from this one on account of it being very well written, but I’m also not not saying that... how’s that for an algebra problem? Anyway, I’ll recount an interaction I had with a peer while we were, no joke, peer reviewing each other’s papers. We’ll call her Mary.

Mary: Ooo, whatcha readin’? I love to read. My mom’s like, an English teacher and shoved books into my face since I popped out the womb.

Me: That is... weird imagery to disclose to me, Mary. It’s Great Expectations by Charles Dickens.

And then, her face morphed into a look of horror, like she was remembering some car accident of long ago where her younger bother flew out of the windshield.

Okay okay, take it back a few notches. It was not that bad. At the very least, she did look sorry for me. Like my cat had just contracted feline aids, or something.

Mary: Oh, yeah. I had to read that in Highschool.

Me: It’s taking a very long time for me to get through, it feels like.

(A required interruption: It DID take me a very long time. Four months of a long time, which is virtually unacceptable under normal conditions, but my life is pretty busy during the college months. Apologies, resume.)

Mary: Charles Dickens tends to be very verbose. Didn’t you know he got paid by the word?

Mary, Mary, Mary. This statement was clearly a joke, a sort of bibliophile jest that I was supposed to laugh at and immediately understand as such.

I thought she was, under no doubt, serious. Not only did I think she was serious, no. I thought what she said was a fact.

I’m embarrassed to admit this. Being paid by the word is not a conceivable way of paying a writer because there is no doubt they would start to value quantity over quality in a lucrative driven state. But you don’t understand. When I was immersed in the loquacious qualities of our Dear Dickens, I took this to be a perfectly viable truth. Dickens writes a lot, and very long winded sentences that I sometimes had to reread and decode since the intelligent part of my brain was left behind 2 paragraphs ago. It did not seem impossible that he was paid by the word to me. In the back of the mind I did think, well, maybe people just say that since he can be a bit.. wordy. Maybe it’s just a saying. At least initially, I did think it was the truth. And that will haunt me to the grave.

About our dear Pip, I liked him in the beginning as much as I could like a child character. He was a down-trodden, his elders not really giving him much credit. His sister raised him under the circumstances that children are not to be shown affection or congratulation for their progress, which led to Pip seeking solace where he could find it with Joe. Don’t even get me started on Joe. Joe is by far the most likable character in this whole novel, save for Magwitch towards the end. He was the only character that I consistently liked, and I use the word “consistent” because there were times when Pip fell upon his Great Expectations that I really did not care for him. I thought he was far too entitled with no merit, and I found it annoying that he chased after Estella when she seemed to me to be such an obvious lost cause. Dickens no doubt meant for this reaction to be spurred, because when Pip falls out of his Great Expectations and has to once again become more humble, he is very apologetic and admits his faults to Joe and Biddy. This redeemed him, and I suppose you can't expect a 21 year old guy to not get a little.. immature, with his money, when he just has so much of it.

Here’s what my personal opinion of the character’s are.

Joe Gargery: A very gentle man who prizes character, pride in ones work no matter what it is, and kindness above brains. In turn, he is very lovely and kind, extremely likable. The way he looks out for Little Pip and older, ill Pip warms the coldest of hearts no doubt. @Estella. 

Georgiana: Mean?? Sort of likable, in an odd way though? Her argument with Orlick made me laugh so hard. And I couldn’t help but feel awful for her and the accident. She may have been mean to Pip when he was younger, but I think that has to due with how young boys were treated in the 1800s. She always boasted of “bringing him up by hand,” so I think she thought it was sort of her responsibility to not make him into a loser. 

Orlick: Annoying and the worst, thinks he’s really cool but deserves to be in prison like the GARBAGE he is. Also, why does he call Pip a wolf so much in that one scene? He’s trying to equate him to a beast so he can make it easier to hurt him, I know but. He’s just loitering trash, he really gets my frogs a leapin.’

Herbert: Bad at fighting but good at friendship :D

Pip: I do like Pip, and I feel like he’s a good one. Sometimes he’s a bit unsure of himself and his place in the World, but I think that’s due to his coming into such a large sum of money unexpectedly. In the middle of the book, he did annoy me, because he made his problems seem awful. “Oh Estella, why won’t you look at me, oh god, this pain, I can’t possibly bare it in my nice pressed suit from Drummle’s, how can I go ON like this, also Biddy, I try to make myself like you but it just won’t work! Any advice?” Pip.. Shut up.

Ms. Havisham: I love her and everything about her character. She was the eccentric oddity of the bunch. The clock that was set at the same time that Compeyson left her, the old wedding dress, her walks with Pip around the room, the fire scene.. I see her as an interesting character because in trying to prevent her misfortune concerning love from reoccurring with a girl of her own, she made Estella’s heart pretty much non-existent. But I think she wanting revenge, she wanted to feel the satisfaction of seeing a Man love hard and get his heart broken.. but when she got just that, she realized very quickly what she had done. I really like her character.

Magwitch: In the beginning, obviously I found him sort of humorous and very prison-escapee in the animal like sort of way, desperate and mean. When he comes to Pip and reveals all of the Great Expectation stuff, the twist was enough for me to like him right there, but I really loved Magwitch at the end. He got such an unfair treatment out of life, and all he wanted was to make someone better than him, to set him up with these “great expectations” to lead him into success. I think he thought of Pip like a son, and likely felt bad for how he treated him when he was 7 years old. I think he wanted to make a wrong right, and I actually surprised myself when I shed tears at his death scene. It was so beautifully written, and you could feel that fragility of himself and the circumstances surrounding his demise and the connection between Pip and him. I was so glad that Pip came to be with him everyday. He deserved that much.

Estella: Did not like her, but it’s *technically* not her fault, I guess? I mean, she is a very hard character to really like. She’s not funny, she’s entitled and far too proud, has no emotion, yes, all of that, but that can be credited to Ms. Havisham and how she brought her up. So, I think she served her purpose well in the context of the novel, I just am not particularly fond of her. I liked the first ending, though, the one where Pip and her grab hands.

This is the last line, and it’s awesome.

“I took her hand in mine, and we went out of the ruined place; and, as the morning mists had risen long ago when I first left the forge, so, the evening mists were rising now, and in all the broad expanse of tranquil light they showed to me, I saw the shadow of no parting from her.”

Isn’t that just kickass? The connection from when he first left the forge and the mists were rising to the present time was very enjoyable.

Wemmick: I picture him as a sneaky, short guy with a top hat and a mustache and a monocle. Wait, a monocle? Surely not. Oh gosh, do I picture Wemmick as the monopoly man? He’s great. I love his double life, the idea of this strict businessman who never lets his “personal affairs” known to anybody but Pip and Aged P is a great concept. His house sounds lovely and interesting as well, and I hope his marriage went very well for him. Everything he did for Pip and all of the information he gave him led the novel along nicely, so we have him to thank for that.

Mr. Jaggers: I always picture him as the tap-dancing lawyer from Chicago. Like, he’d be the one to flip out and have a mini tantrum in a trial about the “erroneous facts” being spread. I liked his character, he held himself to a certain standard and never let anyone see past that wall really. Maybe it would have been interesting to see the flip side of that, like what he did at home and such. Also, did he rape Estella’s mother? I don’t mean, like, got her pregnant with Estella, clearly that was Abel, but like.. he says he tamed her “the old way” and that just sounded fishy to me. That aside, he was aight. 

Aged P: An angel. His happiness with Wemmick and how the simple things bring him pleasure would just bring me the most relief. Aw, he loves being nodded at and acknowledgment, aw, how cuuute.

Drummle: Death by horse?? Oh no

Pumblechook: Needs to sit down, chill out and shut up pretty much every time he makes an appearance. 

And with that, I think it’s time to try to wrap up this very lengthy review. I would give this novel 5/5. There is a reason it is taught in schools, it is great for discussion and the story is almost delectable. I very much enjoyed it, and yes, it is a long book, however; if you can muster up the (in today’s world) seemingly impossible strength to read it, I think it’s a classic that definitely deserves to be remembered and talked about.

I leave you with a quote from Pip that really just touched me to the core.

“Windy donkey as he was, it really amazed me that he could have the face to talk thus to mine.”

[shireness-says]

Playing the Part ch. 2: Getting to Know You

Summary:  As a stage manager who's clawed her way up from bottom, Emma Swan can handle just about anything thrown her way. But does that include handsome lead actor Killian Jones? A CS Broadway AU. Rated T. Also on AO3. Prologue  Ch. 1

A/N: We’re back, with my favorite Jones Brothers conversation I’ve written so far and a great Captain Swan bonding moment! Chapter title from “The King and I”.

Thanks, as always, to @snidgetsafan, my phenomenal beta. She’s the absolute best.

A disclaimer:  This chapter addresses Belle's backstory, which is... less than pleasant. Nothing so bad that there need to be archive warnings, but power dynamics were definitely taken advantage of. I want to make it clear that I'm not condoning what's happened to her, and I've tried to express that in the actual writing, but I just want to reiterate it here. Just because it happened, doesn't mean I'm ok with it, or that you have to be either.

That being said, I hope you enjoy the chapter anyway!

Tags: @kmomof4, @winterbaby89, @thejollyroger-writer, @mythologicalmango, @onceuponaprincessworld, @idristardis, @teamhook, @courtorderedcake, @aerica13, @revanmeetra87, @snowbellewells, @searchingwardrobes

“... but not handsome enough to tempt me.”

God, he hates that line. Yes, it’s from the source material, and yes, it is crucial to the plot, but he always feels like an absolute dick saying it. Belle is an absolutely lovely woman, inside and out, and doesn’t deserve to hear those words directed her way, even in character.

He’s actually apologized for the way he’s acted before in character, had felt like he had to. Belle, bless her heart, laughed and waved off his apologies.

“For the record, I can tell the difference between you and your character, Killian,” she had said. “Please don’t worry about it.”

But he worries anyways. Part of it is just his nature, Killian supposes - he’s a man with a heart built for concern and mild anxiety, it seems. But Belle really does seem rather isolated, and he hates to reinforce that even in character.

He’s heard the rumors, of course - the industry is smaller than they’d like to pretend, and when word made it around that Belle French had been cast in the iconic role of Elizabeth Bennet, old gossip about the woman had made the rounds again too. It’s a horrible story, predictable in all the worst ways: young, up-and-coming actress embarks on a relationship with an older producer. Actress decides that the relationship has run its course. Actress is suddenly, mysteriously branded as “difficult to work with” and struggles to land roles.

Meeting Belle in person, it’s particularly absurd. She’s ridiculously talented and probably one of the nicest and least difficult people he knows and really, it’s not fair. There’s been an increase in accountability in this industry lately, something that’s desperately needed, but the lawyers are still focused on the things they can prosecute - obvious cases of assault and manipulation. Belle’s circumstances don’t clearly fit either of those criteria, having willingly engaged in the relationship, one she thought was based on mutual respect and affection. It doesn’t help that Gold is a major player in this game, able to affect people’s opinions for better or worse with his word alone. For the past several years, Belle’s just been left to flounder on her own with her professional reputation wrongly in tatters. For the moment, no one cares. It’s all so disgustingly unfair.

Personally, Killian thinks Belle deserves the world. He hopes this show is a massive success for a variety of reasons - selfish ones obviously included - but not the least of them is the hope that it’ll reshape the current narrative around Belle, show that she’s talented and kind and an absolute delight. She needs that. She deserves that.

Belle tells him about it herself one day over a cup of tea during one of the rehearsal breaks. He didn’t ask, not explicitly, but she must sense the confusion in his eyes and in his mind about how someone with so much sheer raw talent has been cast aside by the industry.

“He was such a gentleman at first, you know? Yeah, I was getting roles, and probably part of that was because I was seeing him, but I genuinely loved him, and him me. I knew he had a reputation for being tough and focused on success above everything else, but he always encouraged me, and was so happy when I landed roles and was doing well. So when I felt the relationship had come to a natural end, I just figured…” She pauses in her recounting, hurriedly wiping at the tears forming in her eyes. Killian tries to comfort her as best he can, digging one-handed through his pockets for a tissue as he tries to rub her back soothingly with the other. He feels so useless, so male in this situation, but he’s still determined to help and comfort her in any way he can.

“I feel so stupid some days,” Belle continues, gratefully accepting the single kleenex he was able to locate in an inner jacket pocket (and God, he hopes it wasn’t used). “I just… I should have known right away he was insane.”

Killian likes to think he’s a good friend, and a good man, but he’s also a kid who grew up in theaters and around theatre kids, and as he does his best to reassure his scene partner that she’s in no way responsible for the actions of that bastard, he has to forcibly remind himself not to smile at such a bad time at her unintentional quoting.

The stage manager, Emma, is walking past at just that moment, though, and he’s pretty sure he hears her mutter the next words under her breath, so he’s comforted by the knowledge that he’s not the only one with terrible timing and a bad sense of humor.

But again, it’s not the time to ask about it. Killian is 100% focused and committed to being a supportive friend to Belle in this moment - he’ll have to ask later. Preferably out of earshot, before they both get a reputation for being horrible human beings who laugh at unfortunate times.

But there’s never really a chance to ask later - their short break is up before he knows it, and then it’s straight back into choreography. Their choreographer, a vibrant redhead named Ariel, may have a sweet demeanor, but there’s a spine of steel underneath that smile, and Killian knows better than to dawdle. He’ll catch Emma later, he thinks, some time when he’s not needed. But even in those moments when Killian doesn’t strictly need to be doing anything but hang around and watch, waiting for his next instructions and ideally reviewing the script (it’s never too soon to be off book, after all), Swan is invariably still busy.

So Killian waits. The opportunity will present itself, he’s sure.

------

It’s been a good day, Emma is pleased to note. The sheer potential of this show is truly shaping up into something that, with plenty of polishing, just might be magnificent. There’s always going to be issues - after working so many shows, Emma has learned that off-stage drama is an inevitability - but for the most part, even the cast is obliging her by staying professional and getting along. Which is literally all she asks for. Zelena has a definite penchant to complain about anything and everything, but it’s not yet at a point that they can’t handle or that needs addressing.

Still, even a good day is exhausting in it’s own way. Emma is ready to make whatever calls are necessary (just Robin and the props guy today, she thinks), and get home. Yeah, the apartment will be quiet with Henry at Neal’s for Labor Day weekend, but she could probably use a little quiet - a chance to recharge, if you will.

However, that chance disintegrates at the sight of Mary Margaret approaching with a smile full of intent. For all her sweetness, Emma’s learned that her friend can be stubborn and determined, nigh on unmovable when she wants to be, and all the signs are suggesting this will be one of those times.

“Emma!” the petite brunette practically chirps. “It’s been so long since we’ve had a Girl’s Night, hasn’t it?”

It’s not a subtle opening at all, and Emma spots where Mary Margaret is going with this from a mile away. “Oh, I don’t know,” she tries to deflect, hoping against hope that maybe she can still wheedle herself out of these plans. “Seems like we all did something only a few weeks ago —”

“Don’t be silly,” Mary Margaret interrupts, flippantly waving a hand as if to literally shoo Emma’s protests away. “You’re thinking of that brunch date we had, the one Henry came to. It’s been ages since we had a proper Girls’ Night. And since Henry’s gone this weekend, really, there’s no better time!”

“I don’t know,” Emma tries to protest. “I’ve really got a lot that still needs doing, I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it.” It’s not true in the least. The best part about a good day is that even when she is left with things on her to-do list, they’re quick little housekeeping bits, not major crises she needs to untangle. Unfortunately, after a decade of friendship, Mary Margaret knows that too, and fixes her with an unimpressed look.

“Uh uh,” she responds, shaking her head with finality. “No excuses. I’m going to find Ruby, and we are going out. I won’t let you sit at home all lonely with Henry gone. You’re not getting out of this, Emma Swan.”

Much as Emma hates to admit it - hates to admit defeat in general, really - she’s well aware that she really isn’t going to be able to weasel her way out of this. When Mary Margaret gets that look in her eye and that tone in her voice, nothing can sway her from whatever evil plan she’s devised. For better or worse, Emma will be going out tonight. She only hopes it won’t be too miserable an outing. “Fine,” she concedes, holding up a hand to silence Mary Margaret’s happy squeal. “But I am not lonely. And only for a little bit.”

“Oh Emma, we’re going to have so much fun!” her friend gushes, seemingly ignoring the end of Emma’s sentence. “I’ll call Ruby right now, have her meet us at the Grey Lady. Oh! I wonder if Belle would want to go!”

Emma groans as her dreams of a quiet evening in drift further and further away with every expansion of Mary Margaret’s plans. The likelihood of fun seems pretty small right now; Emma settles for just hoping she’ll make it out of this alive and sans hangover.

------

It’s been a long day, but a rewarding one. His script is filled with new notes, he finally isn’t tripping over the rhythms of the proposal scene song, and his feet are tired from practicing ballroom steps over and over again. It’s a pattern he’s getting used to, day by day, but the fact still remains; it’s exhausting.

Killian is just planning to finally go talk to their fearless stage manager, see if she said what he’s 87.9% certain he heard and hopefully trudge home when Nolan practically corners him, effectively ending that plan.

“You’ve got to come out tonight,” David whispers frantically, hunched over in a way that he must think looks surreptitious, but in reality just looks awkward and uncomfortable.

“Ok…” Killian whispers back. “Why?”

“Because I just heard that Mary Margaret is going to be at the Grey Lady tonight with a group of friends!”

“...okay, and?”

“And I like her!” David hisses, seemingly insulted for no apparent reason.

“Calm down, mate, jeez. What, you need an excuse to go, rather than just showing up?”

“Yes!”

“Do I have to whisper the entire night?”

This is apparently the last of David’s patience, as he rolls his eyes and snaps out a response. “For God’s sakes, no. Now will you come with me, or not?”

It’d really be mean at this point, after all the teasing, to tell him no. Killian doesn’t really have plans anyways; he’d tentatively scheduled a call with Liam, but they can always talk later and text throughout the night.

“Alright, Dave, I’ll go with you. Where’s this place at?”

“... About that…”

Excellent.

------

Only for a little bit, she had told Mary Margaret. And she had meant it; despite all her friend’s wheedling about how she’d be lonely at home with Henry at Neal’s, Emma had been looking forward to a quiet evening. Of course, that’s all wishful thinking.

Belle had been interested in joining the outing, as had Elsa, as had their Lydia and three of the chorus girls since it seemed like Mary Margaret had invited every female member of the cast. The Grey Lady has been reduced to a cacophony of female laughter and conversation as Emma desperately tries to either escape or ignore the chaos, both efforts to no avail. For the moment, Emma’s perched at the end of the bar with Elsa trying to cheer her up, purple drink in hand (a Grateful Dead, because “you can’t just get whiskey, Emma, this is Girls’ Night, you have to get something fun.” Ugh.).

“I know you don’t want to be here in the least,” Elsa tries to cajole, “but hey, as long as you’re here, you might as well make the most of it. We can play a game of darts or something if you want, that’d at least get you out of the major crush here at the bar.”

She means so well, trying to coax Emma out of the corner and out of her funk, but honestly, Emma’s quite determined to stay exactly as she is. “It’s really fine, Elsa,” she replies. “Honestly, I’m just hoping that if I sit here and don’t move for long enough, Mary Margaret will forget that I’m here and maybe I can just slip out.”

Elsa snorts at that, which is really enough of a response on its own. “Yeah, good luck with that.” Her face still turns concerned and serious when the humor wears off as she does her best to fuss over Emma. “Are you sure? I’m happy to stay with you if you want, but if you don’t…” Elsa trails off tellingly. Emma honestly feels a little bit bad. For all her introversion, Elsa really does enjoy evenings out like this when she sets her mind to it, and Emma is effectively holding her back from having fun by insisting on being a sad sack at the bar.

“Really, Elsa, I’m fine. Go have fun! It looks like they’re starting some kind of drinking game up over there, that’ll certainly be entertaining if nothing else.”

Elsa’s eyes dart back towards the other ladies longingly, but her voice and body language is still hesitant. “If you’re sure…”

“Yes! I’ll be fine. Don’t let my attitude ruin the night, I’m happy enough with my stupid purple drink. You know I like watching drinking games more than playing anyways. Go!”

“Alright, but you’ll let me know if you change your mind and want company, right?” Elsa fusses as she grabs her drink and stands to leave. It’s a small progress. Emma nods impatiently, all but ready to push Elsa towards the other women. It must be obvious on her face though, as Elsa laughs before dropping an affectionate kiss on the side of Emma’s head. “Ok, ok, I’m gone. Do try to have fun, Emma, just find someone to talk to for ten minutes. And don’t drink too much, because I’m going to need you to lead me back home!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Emma mutters in response. She makes no promises, especially on the socializing front.

———

The bar is much busier than Killian had expected when he, David, and Booth arrive. Killian isn’t exactly sure how the last man got invited; he certainly didn’t have any part in it. August Booth is a genial enough man, however, a perfect casting for Colonel Fitzwilliam in temperament, so his presence tonight won’t be any true hardship. If Killian had to hazard a guess, David had probably invited him for more credence to his cover story that he just happens to be at the same bar as the lady he’s interested in on some sort of boys’ night outing. It seems that the ladies’ outing may have expanded as well; while Killian had expected to see Mary Margaret and Swan, it appears half the female cast is crowded into the bar as well, Mary Margaret unsurprisingly at the center of everything, playing hostess even though the bar is obviously not her house. It doesn’t take long for her to notice their own little group’s entrance, and she hurries over with a wide smile.

“David! Killian! August! What a pleasant surprise!” she gushes. Killian is amused to see that her cheeks are ever-so-slightly flushed. Perhaps David’s little crush isn’t quite so ridiculous as he seems to think. David himself looks a little struck by his lady’s entrance, so Killian quickly takes the reins of the conversation.

“Aye, it truly is. Thought we’d go out tonight, have a bit of a bonding exercise. You don’t mind that we’re here, do you? We didn’t mean to crash whatever you’ve got going on here.” It’s a blatant lie, but Killian is counting on the brunette being too flustered by their - well, David’s sudden appearance to notice.

It seems to be working, thankfully, as Mary Margaret smiles brightly. “Of course not! We planned this as a little Girls’ Night, but you’re more than welcome to stay and socialize! The more the merrier, right?”

It’s impossible not to like the woman, really. While she’s far too perky for Killian to ever be romantically interested, Mary Margaret is such a deeply kind and pleasant person that only the truly cruel would ever take a dislike to her. “Aye, thank you.”

“Is that some sort of drinking game I see about to start?” August cuts in, likely saving them all from an encounter quickly veering towards the awkward and overly sincere.

“I think it’s more of a contest, knowing Ruby,” their quasi-host laughs, “but yes, they’re about to start. A bit wild for me, so I was about to go get another cosmo. David, Killian? Do either of you want to join me?” The invitation is technically extended to both of them, but Killian sees the way her gaze keeps focusing on David, hears the way her voice pitches up hopefully, and quickly makes his excuses.

“I actually think I might grab a beer and try my hand at the dart board, so I’ll leave you two to it.” It’s probably not the most subtle move, but David’s already shooting him a grateful look, so he supposes that his words have been effective enough.

It’s as he’s walking further down the bar to get his drink that he spots Swan in the corner, where he hadn’t noticed her when he had entered the bar, wearing a sour look on her face and sipping on something in a near fluorescent purple. Somehow, he’s not surprised to see her set apart from the thick of things; their straight-laced stage manager doesn’t seem like she’d be particularly comfortable in a chattering crowd of women. It may be taking his life in his hands considering the look Swan has on her face, but he veers to join her at the end of the bar, more enthusiastic about the prospect of spending his time chatting with her than facing the female crush everywhere else.

The skeptical look Swan shoots him as he saunters over with a charming smile should be his second warning, but Killian’s never had much of a self-preservation instinct anyways. “Fancy meeting you here,” he grins.

Swan snorts in return. “Oh, that’s what you’re going with?”

“I couldn’t possibly know what you mean.” It’s another blatant lie, and unlike Mary Margaret, Killian can see that Swan knows exactly why he’s really doing in this bar, sees right past all his and David’s excuses.

“Oh please,” Swan replies, rolling her eyes and confirming what he had expected about her ability to spot his lies. “Like you guys showing up isn’t a blatant excuse for David to flirt with Mary Margaret. The only reason she doesn’t realize it is she’s so damn smitten herself. It’s a little disgusting.”

“You wound me, Swan. It’s an absolute coincidence that we happen to be at the same bar.” Receiving a final unamused look, he collapses onto a stool, giving up the pretense. “They really are smitten, aren’t they? And absolutely obtuse about the matter.”

“Really, they are,” Swan grumbles in return. “Like, it’s so obvious they’ve got a thing for each other, I’m about ready to start placing bets about how long it will take.”

Killian chuckles. “Well, let me know if you ever do, I’d be happy to contribute to the pot.” There’s silence between them for a few minutes as Killian orders his beer, turning back to his companion once his cold drink is in hand. “I can leave you alone if you’d prefer,” he offers, noting the stormy look still occupying her face. “Conversation with you seemed much less intimidating than with the chattering female masses over there, but if you prefer —”

“It’s fine, really,” she waves him off. “I’m just…” she pauses, as if trying to find the words to explain.

“Really Swan, I don’t need an explanation if you don’t —”

“Did you know I have a son?” she interrupts.

It’s news to him. It does explain why he so often catches her trying to surreptitiously check her phone - probably trying to make sure nothing’s wrong with her boy. As he shakes his head in the negative, Emma continues.

“Well, I do. He’s ten. He’s with his dad this weekend. And I’m glad he’s excited about that, but it always makes me…” She waves at her face and its expression, as if that’s an acceptable substitute for actually finishing her sentence with words. Honestly, she’s not wrong on that front, her irritated expression speaking volumes. “So it’s not you, and it’s not the company, and it’s not this outing or party or whatever.” She pauses. “Ok, maybe the last one, but that’s because I’d much rather be at home angrily drinking by myself than being dragged out on the town. But Mary Margaret and Ruby are convinced that if I’m at home, I’ll be wallowing in loneliness, so they dragged me out here against my will.” Another eye roll clearly illustrates Swan’s own thoughts on the matter, and Killian finds himself inexplicably charmed by the gesture. The more he learns and sees of Emma Swan, the more he’s fascinated by her, and he’s glad she hasn’t just unceremoniously sent him on his way tonight.

“Ah, well, that makes two of us,” Killian replies genially, before immediately backtracking. “Not the son bit, but the not particularly wanting to be here. I’d planned to go home and call my brother tonight, but David practically begged me to help in this little farce and… well, long story short, here I am.”

“Here we both are.” She raises her glass to his in a short salute to the unenthusiastic and unwilling.

After taking a swig of his beer, Killian sets his glass back down and turns to Emma with purpose. “It’s not all bad, really. I’ve been trying to find a moment to speak with you all day.”

“Oh?” Her eyebrows raise in curiosity and confusion as she raises her own glass to take another sip of her purple monstrosity. Based on the way her mouth puckers as the alcohol hits her tongue, he thinks she might feel the same way about her beverage.

“Well, you see, I thought I heard you quoting a certain musical earlier…”

Swan immediately groans, her head dropping as if in resignation or defeat. Killian is confident that the only thing keeping her from banging her head on the counter is her folded arms braced against the worn and stained wood. “I was hoping no one heard that.”

“‘This is my husband, we’re from Maine’? I’m impressed by your Sondheim knowledge, Swan, but your timing needs work.”

“I know, I know. It’s… Henry and I have this game, you see, where we try to slip in lyrics without the other knowing. He actually knows a lot, just by virtue of being my kid and practically being raised in theaters. So when I heard Belle, I wasn’t trying to turn it into a joke or something awful like that, it was just… a reflex, I guess.”

“Second nature,” Killian nods in return. “I’m not holding it against you, love, a man just doesn’t expect to hear Assassins quotes tossed around willy-nilly.”

“Thanks.” Catching the bartender’s attention, she holds up her glass in the universal sign for ‘more, please’. “For the record, I’m impressed you caught that. Assassins is pretty much at the top of my list of shows to see, but not everyone knows about it.”

“You can blame my brother for that,” Killian chuckles. “After I decided to become a theatre actor, he decided I needed a full history of the genre. Except the tosser knows next to nothing about musicals and can’t sing a note, so it was mostly just him telling me a lot of Sondheim and Andrew Lloyd Webber facts. Which means I know a disproportionate amount about Cats and Into the Woods. Assassins was at least a more enjoyable entry in his so-called education.”

The story at least gets her to laugh, displacing that foul look she’s been wearing for a moment. “Your brother sounds like a handful. I mean, it sounds like he means well, but wow.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Killian grumbles, eliciting another laugh from his companion. He could get used to that sound, given the chance. “But enough about that wanker. What would you say to a game of pool, Swan?”

Her answering grin is acceptance and challenge, all at once. “Oh, you’re on, Jones.”

———

It’s late when Killian finally calls Liam; he’s not rightfully sure how late, a series of beers, and later glasses of rum, blurring his perception of time, but he knows it’s far past a respectable hour. The only saving grace is that his older brother is currently out in Los Angeles, three hours behind Killian’s local time. Perhaps that will do something to make up for the perceived lateness of the hour.

“Hello?” sounds Liam’s voice from the other end of the line, and Killian is relieved to hear that his brother’s voice is the normal kind of tired, not the just-woken-up kind. Killian may be a bit drunk, but he’s not so far gone that he can’t tell the difference.

“Brother!” he practically chirps in response. “I know it’s late, but I promised I’d call, didn’t I?”

The chuckle from the other end of the line is warm, if exhausted. “Aye, that you did. Tell me, Killy, how much have you had to drink? Are you ok to find your way home?”

“Oh, a good bit. I’ll be fine.” Liam definitely can’t see the dismissive wave of Killian’s hand, but that doesn’t stop him in the least, his impulse control and logic severely compromised. “David convinced me to come out. Have I told you about Dave, Liam? Dave’s a good mate.”

“Aye, you have. I might have to have a few words with Dave if this is going to become a regular occurence. It’s after 11, Killian, which is even later for you.”

“Oh, don’t scold Dave. I didn’t even spend most of the night with him, I spent it with Swan! I’ve talked about Swan before, haven’t I, Liam?” Oh, he really ought to have talked about Swan before. It’d be a utter shame if he hadn’t - he just can’t properly remember right now.

“Are you making friends with birds, Killy?” Liam’s voice is amused, but Killian is less so upon hearing his older brother’s response.

“Don’t be daft, Liam,” he all but snaps. “No, Swan is the stage manager. I must have told you about her.”

The voice on the other end of the line hums as if in realization. “Ah, the one you’re so fascinated with?”

Even with his delayed responses, Killian can feel himself blush. “I’m not fascinated, Liam,” he explains in what he thinks is a perfectly level and reasoned tone of voice, slightly slurred words be damned. “She’s just a very nice lady. And talented. And lovely too.” The humming noise comes from the other end of the line again, causing Killian to adopt a defensive tone. “I don’t have a crush on her Liam, stop that.”

“I never said you did,” Liam says with amusement coloring his voice. Killian can just imagine the placating hand he must be raising to calm his younger brother back down.

“She’s just very good at her job,” Killian tries to explain. “I admire her.”

“Of course you do,” Liam replies soothingly. “And I know you don’t have any feelings for her, but just in case, tread carefully, alright? It’s not a particularly good idea to get involved with people you’re working closely with.”

“I will be,” Killian dutifully says, before hastening to add, “But it won’t be necessary, Liam. She’s just a friend.”

“Whatever you say, Killian,” Liam placates. “Call me in the morning when the alcohol wears off, aye? I’ll talk to you later.”

“Aye, brother, tomorrow.” There’s the usual exchange of affections to close out the call, and then Killian’s left to his own thoughts again, and still needing to find his way home.

Liam can say all he wants, but no matter how fascinating Killian finds Emma Swan, it’s nothing more than a platonic interest. Even if she is lovely and interesting and brilliant and absolutely someone he could have romantic feelings for.

———

It’s such a cliche to say that their interactions at the bar are the beginning of a beautiful friendship, but Emma thinks she and Jones - Killian, she could probably call him now - might be on their way there. Killian is easy to talk to, charming, funny, and apparently willing to participate in ridiculous romantic schemes in service of a friend. The professional part of Emma feels victorious that they apparently cast the perfect man to play their Mr. Darcy; the rest of her is left just wondering how he’s real. The man acts like something out of one of Mary Margaret’s awful romantic comedies, and Emma’s not sure what to do about it.

It doesn’t help that he seems especially determined to be a gentleman towards Emma in particular. He already does all the door holding and ‘ladies first’ nonsense, but he’s taken to helping Emma collect all the various and sundry things she lends out from her supply box over the course of a day and bringing her hot chocolate in the mornings. She’s not even sure how he knows about the hot chocolate thing; who knows, maybe she told him herself that night at the bar. Emma does get chatty when she gets tipsy, even if she doesn’t like to admit it. Regardless, he’s even figured out that she likes cinnamon on top, and presents the to-go cups each morning with a smile that is much brighter than Emma is properly prepared to see before noon.

They’re friends now, she supposes. That’s what Emma’s willing to admit to at least. Sure, she can easily see how that friendship could turn into something more if they both let it, but they work together. It would be such a bad idea - if not downright disastrous. Friendship is safe; friendship is something they can both handle. There’s absolutely no attraction and no feelings on either side.

Emma only hopes that if she repeats that mantra enough, the words will actually stay true.

[cromulentbookreview]

Menstruation!

Yes, that’s right, menstruation! Something half the world’s population experiences on a monthly basis - the regular discharge of blood and mucosal tissue from inner uterine lining through the vagina and...are all the dudes gone? 

Sweet. 

Let’s talk about Mackenzi Lee’s fiercely feminist follow-up to The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue: The Lady’s Guide to Petticoats and Piracy!

“You’re trying to play a game designed by men. You’ll never win, because the deck is stacked and marked, and also you’ve been blindfolded and set on fire. You can work hard and believe in yourself and be the smartest person in the room and you’ll still get beat by the boys who haven’t two cents to rub together.” - From the ARC of The Lady’s Guide to Petticoats and Piracy

For some reason, I have a terrible time writing about things I really, really like. I can go on and on about that one thing that I hate (and I do, often), but when I like something, I say “hey, I like that” and then not much else. My eloquence deserts me when I have to articulate why it is I love something beyond “aw man it’s the best” and then nothing else. Not sure why that is. What I do know is that I finished reading The Lady’s Guide to Petticoats and Piracy on August 28th, actually, it was August 1. I know how dates work. I started writing a review as soon as I finished it, then just...didn’t. Perhaps it’s pure laziness. Perhaps its writer’s block. Perhaps it’s because I’m in the middle of another epic book binge (five books in, four to go, plus a novella and possibly an ARC of book 10!). 

Whatever the reason, I’ve come back to this review over and over, determined to be clever and such, but...man it’s just harder to write about things you love versus the things you hate. It’s very easy to criticize (fun, too), but writing endless praise gets boring fast.

So how am I supposed to describe how much I love Mackenzi Lee’s books?

Mackenzi Lee’s works are the book equivalent of a warm, comforting hug. A hug delivered directly to your brain, with words. The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue was one of the best books I read last year, and its sequel does not disappoint in the slightest. Lady’s Guide is 100% pure feminist awesomeness. If you’ve ever been angered by the patriarchy, then this book is definitely for you.

Since praise is hard and complaining is fun, let me take a moment to complain.

All girls, all women, really, know how it is to feel “less-than” for simply being female. That shit starts the minute we’re born and it’s pervasive as fuck. It never stops. Even in a world where a family cannot survive on just one income, women are expected to work two jobs: one for pay, and one for free. Women are described not as people, but as extensions of others: “Wife”, “Mother”, “Girlfriend”, “Daughter” - as if that is all we are, and all we’re expected to be. (On a related note, I am so tired of books with titles that end with “wife”, “daughter”, “sister,” etc. Also, describing women as “girls.” Fuck that shit, I’m an adult, don’t you call me “girl.”). All the bad things that happen to women are our own fault somehow. Rather than teaching men not to attack women, women are expected to take every single precaution in the universe to protect themselves from men. A single “lapse”? Well, then, anything that a man does to you is your fault. Ladies, have you ever had to fake a hypothetical male partner in order to avoid being harassed? Because men would automatically respect a non-existent male before a real human female?

I am so fucking tired of all of that shit. I am so tired of women being blamed for every single bad thing that happens to them. I am so tired of men getting away with harassing, demeaning and belittling women. I am so tired of male authors saying shit like “Mary Shelley didn’t really write Frankenstein!” I am so tired of women’s accomplishments being treated as “less-than.” I am so tired of a woman’s value being equated with whether or not she has a husband or children. I am so tired of a woman’s worth being equated with her appearance. I am tired of being paid less for the same work my male coworkers do. I am so tired of job interviews with loaded questions meant to suss out whether or not you’re planning on taking maternity leave (because it’s illegal to ask if someone is planning on having kids, but perfectly OK to ask “what are your future plans?” wink wink). I am so tired of all of it. It’s bullshit. All of it is bullshit, and the fact that being a woman means fighting an uphill battle every goddamn day just makes me tired.

And all I’ve described above is just a fraction of the bullshit women of color experience. It’s the fucking worst.

This is why we need books like Lady’s Guide. The patriarchy might not be as visible or obviously terrible as it was in the 18th century, but it’s still here, and still as toxic as ever. 

Ahem. Anyway. Ladies Guide! See, I can complain forever. When it comes to things I love I’m like “uh, I love it, you should read it” and that’s it.

Lady’s Guide takes place roughly a year after the end of Gentleman’s Guide - Felicity is living and working in a bakery in Edinburgh. She’s been trying, and mostly failing, to get accepted into medical school. But, this being the 18th century, and Felicity being a woman, she doesn’t get very far. After her coworker at the bakery proposes to her, dismissing Felicity’s desires for an education as nothing more than a phase, Felicity decides to take off and try again in London. She sets up shop with her brother and Percy, living happily ever after (because Monty/Percy forever, goddamn it!) and attempts to get into one of the London medical schools via subterfuge. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work out. Felicity is on the verge of giving up when one of the hospital’s more enlightened board members gives her the contact info for Alexander Platt - a trailblazer in the medical field and Felicity’s idol. Dr. Platt might just take a woman on as a student, but he’s all the way in Stuttgart...

...about to get married to Felicity’s childhood best friend, Johanna Hoffmann. Sounds like a perfect way for Felicity to ingratiate herself with Dr. Platt, right?

Except Johanna and Felicity had a falling out years ago. As kids, Felicity and Johanna loved exploring and science and getting dirty, but, as they got older, Johanna started showing more interest in “girly” things while Felicity’s interests never strayed. Nothing like that painful phase of adolescence where you look around and see that all your friends have changed, gotten into boys and makeup and all that shit, while all you want to do is read Tolkien and watch Sailor Moon...

Such a classic episode. 

Anyway, Felicity decides to say “fuck it,” and head off to see Johanna in Stuttgart anyway, because this is her chance and she’s not going to throw away her shot.* So Felicity teams up with Sim, a friend of the pirates from Gentleman’s Guide, ditches Monty and Percy and heads off for the continent. 

And if reuniting with an ex-best friend who you haven’t spoken to or seen in years isn’t awkward enough, meeting your hero, who is about to get married to said ex-best friend, is even worse. Like all heroes, Dr. Platt isn’t exactly everything Felicity thought he would be. And his upcoming marriage to Johanna isn’t exactly a love match on either side...

Lady’s Guide is not only a massive brain-hug, it’s existence-affirming. Felicity writes herself a message, one she returns to time and time again throughout the book, and something all women and girls  should hear: You Deserve To Be Here. Yes. Yes you fucking do. Felicity deserves to attend medical school - but men block her path. She deserves to be her own woman, an intellectual, a scientist - all of that, without being scoffed at. 

Lee also makes the point, throughout the book, that the patriarchy is not just men. Women perpetuate patriarchy as well by bullying and policing the behavior of other women. We’re kept down by our own infighting. We see this in the relationship between Felicity and Johanna, whose friendship fell apart because of their differing views on femininity. Felicity was keen to reject feminine trappings, like clothes, makeup, boys, etc., focusing instead on her books. Johanna wanted to embrace her femininity and be a scientist. Felicity looked down her nose at Johanna’s embrace of the traditionally feminine, and Johanna resented Felicity’s high-and-mighty-better-than-you attitude, and thus their childhood friendship fell apart.

The relationship between Johanna and Felicity and their views on femininity is very much like Sansa and Arya Stark. On the Sansa-Arya spectrum, Arya is all about rejecting traditional femininity - no frilly dresses or talk of marriage for Arya. No, she’s all about sword-fighting and vengeance and wearing other people’s faces as masks. Sansa, on the other end of the spectrum, embraces traditional Westerosi femininity, at first suffering it’s trappings, but then she learns to embrace it in another way. Sansa learns to wear her femininity like armor, and use it to her advantage. First, she uses it to survive in King’s Landing, where one wrong move would have gotten her killed, then she uses it to get the same thing Arya hopes to get with her assassin skills: vengeance. Independently, Sansa and Arya are both powerful women. Together? Aw, man. Shit’s going to go down.

I do have one nitpicky complaint, re: Lady’s Guide.

At one point, Johanna tells Sim: “I will drag you back to Bavaria by the ear and take you to court there if I must.”

OK, so in the novel, Johanna lives in Stuttgart. Stuttgart is in Baden-Württemberg, though so...why is Johanna threatening to drag Sim to Bavaria? In the early 1700s, Stuttgart was part of the Duchy of Württemberg which was definitely not in Bavaria. I’m not sure how the Swabians would take it if they were mistaken for Bavarians. Or vice-versa. And heaven forbid you mix up Bavaria and Franconia, even though Franconia is technically now a part of Bavaria…

Ok. Here’s the thing, though. Germany, as it is today didn’t exist until the 90s. The 1990s. Until then the 99.999999% of German history is trying to figure out the goddamned map. There was no unified “Germany” until 1871, and even then the borders didn’t mesh with what they are today. The area that we refer to as “Germany” historically was about 100,000,000 little Kingdoms/Grand Duchies/Duchies/Electorates/Principalities/city-states/what-have-yous tangled together by the Holy Roman Empire, until Napoleon kicked the Holy Roman Empire’s ass in 1805, leading to Francis II to dissolve the Empire in 1806 then it was the German Confederation with the same amount of Kingdoms/Grand Duchies/Duchies/Electorates/Principalities/city-states/what-have-yous … Jesus, just look at the maps. I mean, look at  Baden-Württemberg in the 18th century alone! 

I honestly don’t know how actual Germans sort this out. It’s easier to just be like “OK, we’re just going to start at 1871 and go forward, OK? Let’s just call everything that came before Germany and move on.”

Still, if you’re from Stuttgart and you show up in Bavaria to file a complaint, you’d probably get laughed at by a bunch of mustachioed dudes who’ve been drinking since 9 AM.  

But really, that is my only complaint. Read The Lady’s Guide to Petticoats and Piracy. If you pre-order it, you can get a bonus ebook epilogue to Gentleman’s Guide!  So...go do that. 

RECOMMENDED FOR: Everyone, women especially.

NOT RECOMMENDED FOR: Assholes, men’s right’s activists.

RATING: 5/5

TOTALLY UNBIASED FANGIRL RATING: 5,000,000,000,000,000/5

RELEASE DATE: October 2, 2018

ANTICIPATION LEVEL FOR SEQUEL/CONTINUATIONS: Olympus Mons

AMOUNT OF TIME IT TOOK ME TO WRITE THIS RIDICULOUS REVIEW: 21 days.  Hahaha, no it took me 48 days. Because...fuck...I don’t know.

* (curse you, Lin-Manuel Miranda!)

[mittensmorgul]

I’ve seen multiple posts about how 13.21 referenced both Stand By Me as well as LotR (I mentioned it here but I know there were other posts that explained it in much more detail in case anyone doesn’t recognize all the references). And I’ve thrown around a couple of comments on how the episode directly referenced a LOT of the first half of s8 of The Walking Dead but I haven’t seen anyone write anything more detailed.

I intended to wait to see how the rest of the season turned out before writing anything more detailed, because this episode was written long before the second half of s8 of TWD was finished airing and I have no idea if Bobo knew spoilers in advance or if he was only using this as a sort of one-off parallel within this episode alone, but thematically there have been a number of other TWD references this season, from all the zombie comments in 13.06 to the Zombie Mom Witch in 13.12.

Anyway, below a cut in case anyone doesn’t want s8 TWD and current Fear The Walking Dead spoilers.

I mentioned in another post that I was essentially convinced by the end of Sam’s opening dream sequence that something terrible was gonna happen to Sam by the end of the episode... because TWD has been using a similar opening scene for a while now. Both on TWD and also on Fear TWD.

Essentially the “dreamer” is dead in every case (the notable unresolved “dreamer” whose fate we aren’t entirely sure of is Madison in Fear, but she’s now also been featured in Nick’s dream in the episode he died in so...)

But I want to focus on Carl’s dream sequences from the first half of s8. Because there were a number of them through the first eight episodes, and it wasn’t entirely clear that they were dreams at first. They seemed to show flashes of a “happy future” where his family was all safe and healthy, living a normal sort of “apple pie” life in their home in Alexandria. His little sister was older, his father had gone a bit greyer and walked with a cane, Michonne was still with Rick and happily being mom to Carl and an older Judith. Basically imagine a Walking Dead version of Sam’s dream, where they’re all around the table safe and happy and just living.

We didn’t really get a full understanding that these were specifically CARL’S dreams until the episode he was bitten (which aired December 10, 2017, so likely while Berens was working on this draft).

Clearly Sam’s “bite” went down a lot different than Carl’s did. But the part of the AU where Sam was attacked bore a lot of resemblance to the area where Carl and Siddiq had been walking together:

Path through the woods with hungry monsters waiting to eat them. But let me back up for a moment and explain why he was even out there.

Kindness.

He lived in a barricaded little town called Alexandria, who have allies in other groups such as The Kingdom (heh), Hilltop, and a broken relationship with a group of women living hidden in a community called Oceanside. All of these groups have been struggling under the oppressive rule of the Saviors (ie that group led by John Winchester Negan and his barbed-wire baseball bat called Lucille that Dean had in 12.15). At the beginning of s8, Carl’s father Rick had essentially been in what Mr. Mittens politely refers to as “kill mode.” They’d been betrayed and suffered heavily from the Saviors, who rule their territory with an iron fist and a steady campaign of terror and intimidation against any group they see as a potential resource.

(they’re basically awful, okay?)

But Carl is an odd duck. He’d spent quite a bit of time talking to Negan (not entirely by choice, because Negan is generally awful, but also had a weird soft spot for Carl, despite having threatened to force Rick to chop of Carl’s arm the first time they all met... it’s a disturbing show, sorry). Rick has never been able to forgive Negan for what he did (not just the psychological torture and threatening Carl, but also killing Abraham and Glen in cold blood just to intimidate and hurt the rest of them, and Maggie will never forgive him for killing Glen-- i.e. the father of her unborn child).

Which brings us to the people TFW+Gabe met in the woods-- a dark-haired woman called Maggie and a dude carrying a baseball bat. Interesting pair, no? Because in TWD if Maggie ever came face to face with Negan she’d claw his face off with her bare hands.

Okay now back to why Carl was in the woods. Back when Rick had been in Kill Mode, they ran across a man in the woods named Siddiq who Carl had wanted to help, but Rick shot at him to scare him away. Rick wasn’t in a mood to trust anyone, and especially not lone strangers in the woods. Carl apologized and began sneaking food out of Alexandria and befriending Siddiq. This went on for 8 episodes... bringing him supplies in secret and learning about the man. Which is what he’d been doing when they were ambushed by walkers.

Meanwhile back at home, one of the Saviors had turned traitor and was secretly helping Rick and his people escape an ambush (heck there’s so much of revenge and deceit involved in explaining Dwight’s motives here... but basically half the season is about revenge, and the fact that getting revenge is just... not worth it... sound familiar?)

So Carl had been out there in the middle of all this danger and (essentially) warfare to do a good deed for someone. And in the fighting, he’d accidentally been bitten by one of the walkers. (Sound familiar?)

The differences between Sam and Carl’s deaths:

Walker bites don’t kill instantly. It can take days to succumb to the infection unless the bite itself proves fatal, and Carl was bitten on his side (think about where Cas got stabbed by the Lance of Michael).

Carl killed the things that “killed him”

Sam’s bite was to a critical artery. If Carl had been bitten on the neck he would’ve been dead in a minute, but they wanted him to live long enough to get home and prepare for his own death. Sam didn’t get that luxury.

Carl didn’t have a handy archangel to resurrect him. Even if it was awful.

He did get to write letters to the people he cared about-- and to Negan-- and say goodbye to his loved ones in person. Sam didn’t. But Sam came back from the dead to address that in person.

Carl met back up with his family in the sewers (tunnels) under Alexandria after escaping the Saviors’ attack

The thing is, Carl had been the Negotiator. He’d been a sort of diplomat between everyone else and Negan, trying to convince everyone to work together rather than keep seeking revenge and trying to kill each other. Just like he’d been nurturing his friendship with Siddiq, and preparing to bring him back to Alexandria despite Rick not wanting him there.

Meanwhile we’ve been seeing hints about the revenge Sam is eager to take out on Lucifer. We saw Dean’s concern about Sam’s motives for helping Gabriel get his revenge against Loki and his children in 13.20, and Dean wanting to take the horrific burden of vengeance and the utter lack of fulfillment it actually provides off Sam’s shoulders.

It’s interesting that the Negan-coded dude (but not entirely, because his baseball bat didn’t have barbed wire wrapped around it) ended up biting it (pffft) in that tunnel and is never mentioned again. Maggie attempts to offer sympathy to Dean for the loss of his friend, but she gets nothing back from him.

Anyway, Carl left some letters behind (which he writes during episode 9, which didn’t air until February 25, 2018, so two weeks before they began filming 13.21 and likely after the script was finalized) and the contents he shared with Rick and with Negan can be read at those links in their entirety. But here’s a few key points:

You have to find peace with Negan. Find a way forward somehow. We don't have to forget what happened, but you can make it so that it won't happen again, that nobody has to live this way, that every life is worth something.

Start everything over. Show everyone that they can be safe again without killing. They can feel safe again. That it can go back to being birthdays, and school, and jobs, and even Friday night pizza somehow, and walks with a dad and a three-year-old holding hands. Make that come back, dad. And go on those walks with Judith. She'll remember them.

I love you.

Carl

and to Negan:

I hope my dad offers you peace. I hope you take it. I hope everything can change. It did for me.

Start over. You still can.

And at this point I’m singing “It’s never too late to start all over again” in my head.

And while all that was happening in TWD, the Saviors were launching firebombs into their town, as we assume there’s gonna be some more AU Angel “fireballs” hitting in 13.22.

The interesting thing about TWD’s season finale (which aired April 15, or four days before 13.23 wrapped filming), is that Rick finally both lucked out (via a timely bit of backstabbing by Eugene, who’d been considered a traitor when he went to work for Negan and had cost multiple people their lives as a result, but he’d rigged all the saviors’ guns to backfire and kill THEM instead of the people the guns were aimed at) AND took Carl’s message to heart.

He had the perfect chance to kill Negan and get his revenge at last, but he bargained for peace instead, in the face of a HUGE swarm of walkers that could threaten them all if they didn’t work together instead of constantly enacting petty revenge wars against each other.

(but Maggie? She still wants revenge, along with a few quiet others... but that’s for next season. For now, there’s an uneasy truce)

I have no idea what this means for anything else going on in SPN, or what lengths Sam, Dean, Cas, Gabriel, Lucifer, Mary, Jack... and everyone else... will be willing to go to to get “revenge” or to stop AU Michael, but I thought this was an interesting parallel between Sam and Carl in this episode.