#but i went on like. a trip into my art files (never a good idea) and i got self conscious for no reason | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

altairs-rambles · 2 years ago

Note

I feel like everyone should have their ocs heard at least once SO DO TELL MORE I haven’t interacted with u that much but I may reveal who I am hehehe

∑(ﾟﾛﾟ��) someone wants to hear about my OCs? Really?

I have many OCs (kinda) (not really)! I'll only talk about Enstars first bc much to say about each of them so this is gonna be a loooong ramble already!! I apologize in advance for my possibly incoherent essay(s)

First up, Kiyoko!

She used to be a Yuguysona back when I was in the NijiEN rabbithole, but bc I was too attached to her design to toss/scrap him, I brought him into the Enstars Universe! Kiyoko was meant to stay as like- my self insert/persona in Enstars? But they eventually kinda deviated from that and became her own character!

Uhhh as you can see I've been running around she/he/they for Kiyoko, and that's because he's gender fluid! Why? Because I am a mess about my own gender and creating/tweaking Kiyoko was a way for me to explore that area. Now they're my gender goals + I am very down bad for her ✨

Just like my other soon-to-be-rambled-about OCs, this blueberry is a very tragic little creature - she has one or two problems from my life mixed in with the hundreds of problems from the Ensemble Stars Universe. Relatively nice family, once bullied, has a friend in a coma, swings between being compliant to being stubborn, overthinks and overworks, is a very tired child... Yeah! The usual~ A third year student in Yumenosaki, who sneaked in as a male in the first year with the help of some teachers, but now others knowing she's afab doesn't get him kicked out either so 👏👏👏 went solo for a while before the mess in the war, so they picked up a teammate/friend by being weirdly philosophical and whimsical on the roof of the school 👍! Kiyoko is very passionate about the idea of freedom thanks to The War in Enstars aksnksnskd

What's ironic about him is that she's the leader of a unit whose theme is "freedom", yet mentally she's as free as a dove in an undersized cage. Kiyoko keeps going on and on about how people need the freedom to choose (as long as it doesn't harm others) and yet never gives himself that freedom due to fear of making another mistake that would snowball into a devastating consequence (see: friend in coma).

Anyway! We have very similar fashion sense/styles, which is over-the-top-accessorizing! I have no explanation for this other than: I really like earrings and chains and chokers and rings and boots and shiny silver bits and looking good in general! We both really like singing too, just that I have stage fright despite performing on stage for 10years (school). Aaaaand we're both sleepy babies we can and will curl up anywhere on the grass floor cement ground and sleep 😴

All these lead to funny little scenarios between her and other characters, mostly when they randomly trip over him/catch her knocked out in the middle of hallways (all these scenarios happened in my head).

Um. I think that's it for him sorry it's so long for the first one orz

Oh one more thing! I suffer from being a Kiyoko fan bc I'm the only source of art for them but I have little to no motivation to draw 😭

Aaaaand that's a wrap! Next one, Ai!

(apparently her file isn't on my phone so I only have her picrew + pencil drawing)

Sunshine of Kiyoko's unit, Wing5! Formerly a solo idol who failed after debut, she was scouted out by New Di/Kiyoko/Tsumugi to be part of Wing5. She's a strong vocalist, often pairing with Kiyoko to take on the melody of their songs, hence the ship name "Songbirds" (That ship is like fan speculation? It's not entirely canon unless I want it to be)

In terms of appearance, Ai and I look the most similar thanks to our front bangs ✨ Her hair is all purple, she just dyed her side bangs to match her eyes! Also since every OC has a piece of their creator's soul, she has my extroverted side! She's a bumbling 20 year old or so - think "wine aunt" vibes!

Ai's actually very insecure though, due to her failure as a solo idol. She may be cheeky, but she's very sensitive to others' emotions and tries her best not to push them to the limit in case they decide to abandon her because of whatever antics she's up to, or because she's not good enough. Imposter syndrome too, maybe?

I think she needs to be babied more she's always taking care of others... Mom of Wing5™️ old

Next! Uhhhh what was her name... Yurika!!

Resident tryhard emo and chronically online child, her strength lies more in marketing, video editing etc. more than performing onstage! Despite being paired with Akari (who will be rambled about next) due to her dance, Yurika is more widely recognized as Wing5's rapper.

She's the shortest in Wing5! ++ An albino, which is why all Wing5 performances are usually done indoors/at night outdoors to prevent aggravating her condition (I opened so many tabs for this but I've forgotten so much I'm sorry if anything isn't accurate). Her left eye is also affected by... Something which the name I can't remember- it affects albinos and causes their vision to be blurry, even with glasses. Yurika just needs glasses in general bc she has been sitting in front of the PC for so long sknskdnd

Our similarities... Being online like 24/7? She has a worse sleep schedule than me though bwahahaa ✨ We both also melt. Like. Absolutely melt into nothingness whenever we're presented with affection. (At least I think I would...?)

Her ship with Akari is. Canon. I will not hear arguments I created them!! 🙉 They've been traveling/living together for a few years before Wing5, when Yurika was 15 and Akari was 18, bc their families are close friends and Yurika's family decided it was time to kick her out of her dark gloomy room to see the world with Akari, who was going around Japan to look for jobs as a dancer! When Akari landed a job, they had to continue travelling to follow the idol around on his/her concerts as a backup dancer, and Yurika stuck with Akari throughout the years until they landed in Wing5~ it's like the "omg they were roommates" situation! She's very prickly with everyone else aside from Akari, especially Kiyoko bc they have severely clashing opinions from time to time lmao

Bonus: She uses her name as a pun for "Eureka" so it sounds like "this is an Eureka moment!" but it practically means 'this is Yurika's moment!'

I never thought I'd say so much about Yurika but I will speak more about her in the next ramble about her wife girlfriend, Akari!

Heads up, Akari's transfem! She transitioned before + during her travels with Yurika, but doesn't feel completely female? An imbalanced in-between, like a tomboyish girl! And that's why she's the tallest in Wing5, bc hormones- By male standards, she's softer and more feminine, but by female standards she's a little too masculine. Gender who?

Tragically, she doesn't have a family other than her little brother (to be rambled about next), whom she is very protective about. She was taken care of by Yurika's family until 15 when she moved to school dorms while her brother remained with Yurika's family, then after graduation she came back to bring Yurika around Japan at her family's request.

They do return Yurika's feelings towards them, though Akari needed time to sort her own emotions out after Yurika's confession because they had never really thought of having a partner? Akari just felt comfortable and safe and at home with Yurika, that's all. So yeah they were disaster gays at some point before officially starting their relationship as lovers!

Akari is really hostile towards Kiyoko, though she displays it mostly in a passive-aggressive way. Why? Bc they blame Kiyoko for what happened to her little brother 😔 Will be explained soon!

Akari's name used to be Akira! This is a coincidence that it happens to be the Enstars story writer's name, I didn't know until a while after creating Akari 😅

Next, Hikari!

<tbc sorry i gotta go celebrate CNY TwT> I will be back soon~

#ensemble stars oc #enstars oc #oc #ask #ocs #im sorry did i talk too much ;A;

3 notes · View notes

saraannsworld · 7 months ago

Text

It has been a while since I have posted on here. I needed time to find my balance and heal my soul. I have learned over the last few years how important the health of your soul is. How much you are doing mentally and spiritually. Here is my story of how I got to where I am right now.

During the end of my time in collage I went through a traumatic event that changed the path of my life. Since my way to dealing with it was to put it in a box, not tell anyone and keep going. The trouble with trauma is that it takes over your heart and soul if you do not treat or face it. So that meant I experienced one trauma after another until years later ( 15 to be exact) I was at a point I no longer knew who I was. What I was doing or how I got to this place in life. I was a stranger to myself and in some ways to the people around me.

My PTSD was so bad that my Mom found a trauma therapist for me to see. She was a hour drive away and I think that time to myself ( I was a single parent now) was healing. She was a good therapist but, I knew I needed something different. Something more so, I started searching the web on how to heal from trauma. I found a trauma program not to far from where I lived with my parents and started the best decision and hardest path I had actually decided for myself in years. I learned so much about myself and how trauma lives inside you. My therapist explained trauma in the brain to me one day, and I will never forget what she said because those words changed my outlook on my life so far and my future.

“ If you think of your brain like a file cabinet each part has its own file, body function, hopes and inspirations, expectations, motor skills, ex. But then you have a trauma happen and your brain has no idea how to file it because it has no place that it fits. So I am going to help your brain figure out how to file away your trauma.”

In that moment everything clicked. I had this free radical floating around my brain making it all confused. The more events of trauma I added the more radicals to confuse and break apart the person that I use to be. This was the moment I started to heal. I started to put my life back together. Find Sara again. Create a new path and a new direction from where I was. A year later I was back at a place I had not been in a very long time. I was ready to move forward for me and my son. My soul was finally healing and I needed it to keep healing. To do that I knew I needed to leave Colorado, because to many bad things had happened to me there. I knew I wanted to live somewhere like a smaller town or city. I knew it needed to not be too hard for me to get my son and I to our family’s summer cottage, and back to Colorado to visit family. So I started my search. I knew art and creativity being part of the city was important to me. I first checked out Iowa City, Iowa. It was a college town creative and small. A short tip to the places I wanted to be able to travel to. So with $500 and some food stamps in my pocket I drove out for a 48 hour trip to see what I thought. It was not what I thought I would find. Something about it was off although to this day I don’t know what but it was not it. My soul was not singing.

About a month or so later I traveled up to our family cottage in Conway, MI. I had heard things about Traveres City, MI. It checked all my boxes so I drove down to see what I thought. I remember driving around the neighborhoods. I walking around downtown and saw all the art and local things happening. My soul was singing now. This was where my future would start, where I could live my life again. Two months later my Mom and I had found me a place to live and I was moving in. I got a job in the beginning of Covid when everything was still not back to full working more.

For four years I worked as a Team Lead at Panera. I left in my last year to be an Assistant Manager at in Independent Home. I ended up running everything in the building after being there for two weeks. It was one horrible thing happening after another, and no support from the company. Once it started to make my PTSD come back and my son’s anxiety worse I quite. I went back to Panera. Only this time it was different. I now believed in myself and the full capacity of what I was capable of. After walking into a work day of disfunction, and that underlying feeling that I could do so much better with my time and talents I quite. And this leads me to now.

It has been almost three months since I quite. Money has not been this tight in a very long time but, I have not felt my soul like this maybe ever. I have started my own art line which you can view at www.soulstainedink.org and I have started walking almost every morning ( 5.45 Miles). I am doing Somatic Yoga at night to rebalance myself before sleeping. During the day I create my art and work on my shop. I make some money doing yard work for neighbors and, selling on my Soul Stained Ink shops. I am looking to get certified as a life coach and help others find there path to a place where there soul can smile also.

I hope you continue to follow my journey and can find inspiration or knowledge and if nothing else learn about another humans experience through this thing we call life.

#soulestainedink #self love #staystrong #my journey #singlemother #PTSD #trauma #healing trauma #Sara Anns World

1 note · View note

black-mesa-slut-voice · 4 years ago

Photo

YOUR BEGINNER’S GUIDE TO CLASSIC HEADCRAB DOMESTICATION

Click below to start reading this comprehensive document!

Note: All of this is written purely for fun by an aspiring zoologist who simply loves genetics and speculative biology! This is only mildly inspired by source material, and isn’t completely indicative of canon. A lot of these things are just speculative or made up for fun!

If you want to use any of this information for your own headcanons, OCs, or fanart, you are 100% welcome to use it, though I would like to be credited!

If you would like to see more things based on these headcanons, ocs, or simply more things or art I’ve done on this subject, check out my #headcrabguide tag on my blog!

HISTORY

In the wake of the 7 hour war and the proceeding Combine invasion, there was a large amount of casualties. However, not all of these casualties were humans. Animals took a lot of hits as well, and in the remaining 20 years before liberation, the resulting environmental tolls as well as continued extermination caused this sixth mass extinction- arguably just as bad or worse than the meteorite that killed the dinosaurs. Nearly 75% of land animals and over 68% of marine animals went extinct in this time frame.

The most notable toll was on human-domesticated animals. Because of the Combine influence, any animal that was reliant on human care was almost immediately wiped out, both purposefully and inadvertently as humans were no longer available to care for them. All livestock species and most pet species were completely eliminated, leaving humans with few, if no animal companions.

Humans, however, are a very social species, and are naturals at befriending things that are arguably dangerous. Wolves, cats, and even less common creatures such as foxes, snakes, and spiders were kept and tamed and bred for companionship and work despite their danger. When the Combine forces were driven off and humans were once again allowed to practice the art of domestication, they were left with very few options. Some birds, a few select felines, insects, and alien species were nearly all they had to work with.

And so, work they did.

Headcrabs, despite their use as a weapon by the Combine, were one of the first alien species to actually be domesticated. It is theorized that this is because a number of factors- first is that the one of the leading rebellion leaders, Dr. Isaac Kleiner, actually possessed one name “Lamarr”, putting the idea in many people’s heads that they could be tamed and kept. The second was their abundance. They were easy to find and acquire, and despite their danger, could easily be captured. Third, they are very easy to selectively breed and mass produce. Lastly, it was quickly discovered that headcrabs are much more intelligent and social than previously anticipated.

In the wild of their home planet, Xen, headcrabs actually had a very complex social system and niche. They formed large groups- called casts- that staked out swathes of territory. The leader of the group was called a gonarch. The gonarch was a large, heavily mutated headcrab that was the sole reproducer, similar to that of queen bees or ants. Though it was large, fast, and capable of defending itself, it lost it’s ability to easily feed itself, as it’s mouth became much smaller to make room for the reproductive sac.

Because of that, the rest of the cast was tasked with hunting and feeding the gonarch in exchange for protection and reproduction. The smaller, albeit still mature headcrabs would go out, and attempt to hunt down anything it could- smaller things were eaten or fed to the gonarch, and larger things that had the right shaped heads could be ‘coupled’ with, fusing the headcrab to it’s host and creating a gonome. Though gonomes were more powerful and capable of hunting larger prey and defending the rest of the cast, in turn, they lost their ability to reproduce. Thus, most casts had one gonarch, several gonomes, and many crabs.

Gonomes could come in any species that was large enough for a headcrab to couple with- and is perhaps why headcrabs were actually so easy to tame. With the right social encouragement, a headcrab can easily recognize humans and other larger creatures as being part of their cast, and regard them in the same way they would a gonome- with social respect and friendliness.

With a few generations of selective breeding, headcrabs quickly became much more docile due to their natural instinct of accepting oddly-shaped creatures as part of their cast.

CARE AND HANDLING

Despite the generations of breeding leading to a much more friendly, domesticated headcrab, care must still be exercised with them in regards to handling. They are very similar to cats in the fact that, despite their domestication, they can still be wild at nature and will often hunt smaller creatures, and are capable of harming someone if provoked.

Also similar to cats are their sense of community. Like mentioned, headcrabs can be trained and raised to see certain people- usually a household- as part of their cast. However, this presents a problem with strangers entering their ‘territory’. If not properly socialized, headcrabs can be quite aggressive to anyone they don’t recognize as part of their cast. This is beneficial for those who don’t expect anyone, or want a ‘guard dog’ type of pet- but can be detrimental to those who have friends or family that may come to visit.

Though headcrabs lack eyes, they are not completely blind. They have subdermal eyes located near the base of their front legs, which can detect lights and shapes. That, combined with their ability to ‘taste’ the air with specialized glands, are how they recognize others and their environment.

If you plan on having someone visit, it may be best to have something that smells like the visitor on hand for a few weeks beforehand, so your headcrab can become used to their scent.

For headcrabs that don’t mind activity, you can also take your headcrabs on walks or trips into public to get them accustomed to having strange scents and people around them, leading them to be less aggressive, even at home. Of course, it is always a good idea to have proper restraint for any flighty, aggressive, or even headcrabs that have never been socialized in public before.

Another good way to prevent injury is physical modification. For headcrabs that simply are rowdy or aggressive- or even just as a precaution for the most well behaved crab- there are several things you can do to prevent injury.

When headcrabs first started being tamed, the most common method of modification was ‘debeaking’. Despite it’s name, it’s actually a misnomer, as headcrabs don’t have beaks, only radial rings and fangs. ‘Debeaking’ was the process of removing all 18 fangs on the underside of the crab surgically, usually when young. This prevents them from growing back and completely eliminates the risk of being bitten.

However, this practice was quickly upturned under the argument of it being inhumane. While the headcrab often doesn’t suffer because of this, as their fangs are only used for gripping prey and not eating it- if done incorrectly, it can be painful in the long run.

One of the slightly more common methods are ‘fang caps’. Similar to claw caps for cats, fang caps are a small, plastic cap that can be fitted over the fangs of a headcrab. With a small amount of specialty glue, they become long-lasting solutions for injury prevention with no physical harm to your crab. Despite the seemingly perfect upsides, there are also precautions you must take. It is possible for a fang cap to become loose or fall off either through being applied incorrectly or simply from wear and tear. Thus, you must always monitor the state of the caps to ensure there are no accidents.

The third option, and the least used, is clipping. Though it does not remove the whole fang, clipping refers to filing down/clipping each fang individually so it’s not sharp. However, this is generally not only difficult, but it’s actually uncomfortable for the crab, and they can grow back fairly quickly.

For headcrabs that are properly either defanged or capped, there is little to no risk of being bitten. If a properly cared for headcrab does attack or try to mount your head, it can simply be pulled off, as there’s nothing allowing it to grip onto it’s ‘prey’.

However, you must still be mindful of the long, sharp front claws. Unlike the fangs, these do not have nerves until very deep in- and thus, can be slightly trimmed and filed with no discomfort on your crab’s end.

FEEDING

Headcrabs- despite their predatory nature- are not only social, but omnivores as well. This fact comes as a surprise to some people who look at them and compare them to things such as spiders.

Indeed, though a headcrab is most definitely a predator, they’re more opportunistic than anything. They will often eat nearly anything they wander across, including small creatures, decaying corpses, fruits, fungi, algaes and lichens, and very occasionally some vegetables and leafy matter.

Most of what they eat is less dependent on taste, and more of their actual physical ability to eat it. Because of their hyper specialized mouthparts, they are unable to chew. Instead, they scrape at the soft parts of whatever is fitted into their mouth with a specialized, rough ring around the inner mouth fitted with a bunch of extremely small ‘teeth’, similar to that of a lamprey. Thus, they can only eat what they can scrape off with that, and cannot chew bones or anything hard or with too much roughage. It’s non uncommon to see a headcrab take something into it’s mouth, such as a small bone or rock covered in lichen- ‘suck’ it clean, and spit it back out.

Thus, headcrabs can be fed nearly anything that they can fit into their mouth. Of course, that is within reason- it’s always good to look up what is or isn’t toxic to your crab, as well as feed them specialty diets to make sure they get all of the proper nutrients they need without over or underfeeding.

The most common way to feed is with commercial ‘crabcakes’- rounded nutrient blocks resembling a large piece of kibble, that comes in several sizes to fit in any crab’s mouth. Once given, a headcrab will take about a few hours to eat it, and don’t need to be fed again for another few days, or up to a week, depending on activity and how many supplemental treats are given in between. Though it’s perfectly fine to feed them only cakes or only prepared food, the most enriching and balanced option is feeding the cakes once a week, with smaller, daily ‘treats’ of different varieties being given.

Some of these treats can include:

Pieces of meat (any type, cooked or raw)

Small, whole prey (commercially prepared mice or chicks)

Whole or sliced fruits (apple, pear, etc)

Tubers (potato, sweet potato, carrot)

Hard vegetables / stalks (chopped celery, broccoli, etc)

Mushrooms (anything edible by humans is edible for your crab)

As a special treat, sometimes you can replace a cake with a large ‘prey’ item that would also take several hours to eat. Some examples are:

Large whole prey (Whole birds, large chunks of meat, antlion grubs, etc)

Large fruits (Melons of any type are a favorite)

Large vegetables (heads of cabbage, heads of broccoli, etc)

Of course, any meat-based items are going to be chosen over non-meat items if offered.

BREEDING

Breeding headcrabs, unlike many other creatures, is generally not something that can be done unless you are a committed hobbyist. Namely because normal headcrabs- even if they are mature- are incapable of breeding whatsoever. The only type of headcrab that can reproduce are the gonarch, the heads of the cast. All headcrabs are biologically ‘male’ until they transform into a gonarch, or lost reproductive organs entirely as a gonome.

Originally a gonarch was produced when there simply wasn’t a gonarch in the group. The largest, strongest individual would then begin to grow and mutate, similar to how many fishes can mutate into a larger or opposite gender if needed.

However, this ability was removed from the headcrab- along with the ability to create proper gonomes- by the combine when they were being used as weapons. Though headcrabs were efficient at taking care of humans, anything larger and more dangerous threated to get out of hand; the combine didn’t want them reproducing out of control and becoming another threat. Incidentally, this is also when their eyes became subdermal as part of a side effect of gene altering.

Because of this, there are only two ways to breed a headcrab. One, and the most common, is to create an artificial gonarch sack. Blueprints were taken from the combine after their defeat that allowed humans to replicate the same technology that allowed them to mass-produce them before.

Artificial gonarch sacs are similar to ‘ghosts hearts’ where they are pseudo-biological, and accept any DNA put into it. Thus, you can insert DNA from any crab to become the ‘gonarch’ or ‘female’ DNA, and either get the smaller male to ‘mount’ the artificial gonarch in a specialized area, or do the male portion artificially as well.

The artificial womb also lets you control how many offspring are produced, as normally a gonarch can produce hundreds of crabs from each successful mating- too many, often, to properly take care of.

Much less common is the artificial transformation of a true gonarch.

Any headcrab can be stimulated to turn into a gonarch with the injection of artificial hormones that trigger the process. It will then take a few weeks to a few months for the crab to transform.

However, this is not recommended for a number of reasons.

First, they are large. They need much more than a house for their territory- they often need several acres, and if it’s deemed unsuitable for a nest, she will refuse to breed and become agitated.

Second, they are very territorial, aggressive, and dominant. If you were a gonome to them before, you still are- which means, in headcrab ranks, she is now above you, socially. Even the most docile crab becomes an aggressive, protective creature who will defend her young and territory with her life. Combine that with their massive size, they are extremely dangerous, even to a professional.

Third, it is very hard to regulate the exact breeding. She will only accept other headcrabs from her cast, and if she deems them unfit, will promptly kill them. And even once they are bred, they can produce several hundred offspring- of which it is very hard to take care of, and even harder to take away from her due to her protective nature.

Lastly, she cannot feed by herself. She requires being fed specialized food through specialized apparatus- and a lot of it.

It’s expensive, costly, and overall dangerous. Thus, artificial gonarch sacs are generally the go-to.

COLORS AND PATTERNS

Just like with previous animals that were domesticated, such as cats, dogs, and goldfish, after a few generations of breeding they began to exhibit unique colors and patterns. After enough time, unique, recognized colors, coats, and even breeds came to be official recognized.

It was made even easier because breeding for exact genes was made simple by means of artificial sacs. Thus, headcrabs come in a vast array of colors and patterns, some even unique to certain subspecies.

The most common colors are pale, albeit warm shades of tans, yellows, and browns. In more rare cases, they can take a more green, purple, or red tint.

Tan, ash, sand, and flaxen were the first recognized distinct colors that were bred onto headcrabs. Chocolate and umber quickly arose from the original tan, with rose following not far behind. When rose was cross-bred back with umber, it resulted in lilac.

Golden arose when sand crabs were bred for vibrancy, and sorrel was the result of a cross of golden and umber.

Flaxen gave way to wheat, and then swamp when bred for the cooler, greenish mutation.

Patterns, too, were something that quickly came about, not long after the first distinct colors began to be recognized.

The first patterns that arose were speckled, striped, and Siamese (named after the similar patterned cat).

Fawned came from a recessive mutation that reversed the pigment cells that caused the spotting pattern on speckled crabs, making them appear lighter instead of darker. Pearled arose when it was cross-bred back with speckled- which usually resulted in speckled, but sometimes in pearled. Because fawned is recessive, the only way to get fawned is to breed with another fawned or a pearled. Breeding a fawned and a speckled results in only speckled or pearled.

Snowshoe, similarly, rose from the same recessive mutation, though this time with Siamese. Similar rules apply; though an ‘in between’ similar to pearled does not exist, as they simply neutral each other out.

Capped rose from Siamese, though it looks similar to bullseye. Bullseye actually came from a very hyper specific mutation of smoked, and is one of the most rare patterns, much moreso than capped or smoked.

Striped crabs are what were bred into both smoke and ticked- with smoke being an increased level of pigment, and ticked being a decreased level.

Marbled is another very rare pattern with dubious origins. Some say it’s a standalone mutation, though others say it originated with smoke, bullseye, and even speckled. However, none of these are confirmed.

Of course, all of the patterns and colors on the charts above are not every single example- there are many more sub-variations of colors and patterns of each type, these are just the main, conformed and recognized ones. They also don’t include any non-recognized crossbreeds or mixes of colors or patterns that aren’t an established record.

UNIQUE BREEDS

Even moreso than recognized colors and patterns are unique breeds of crabs. Though, again, not even breed pictured above are all of them, these are just some of the more noteworthy examples.

Truthfully, nearly all crabs are going to be your standard breed, and not one of the ones pictured. Unless it is either obvious or has had a genetics test, it is safe to assume your crab is a standard.

Two of the most recognized sub-species are the racer and the false poison. These were both bred to be inspired by the combine-created species, the “fast” headcrab and the poison headcrab. Their target audience both began for people who liked them in theory or as an aesthetic, but lacked the funds, ability, or want to deal with the much more dangerous and aggressive ‘true’ versions.

Because they were intended for war, fast headcrabs and poison headcrabs lack almost all social aspects that standards do, are much more aggressive, flighty, wild, and dangerous. Not to mention to potent neurotoxin than poison headcrabs excrete, and the vicious teeth of fast headcrabs. Nowadays theyre both often bred for show or work, but we aren’t focused on them here, simply the standard crab.

Pancakes are some of the harder to recognized subspecies, due to their generally unassuming appearance. They’re named so because they’re typically ‘flatter’ than the normal headcrab, tend to range in the golden-sandy color range, and are described as being ‘soft and sweet’. True to that, that is the original purpose that pancakes were bred for- they’re small, lazy, hyper-friendly headcrabs that almost never attempt to show any signs of aggression unless severely pushed. They’re great for households with kids, or simply people who want a slightly less high-maintenance crab.

They can come in nearly any pattern and color, but again, tend to be in the warm, golden-yellow tone range.

Hunchbacks are a much more narrow breed, since it's recessive, and tend to be not as desirable for no other fact than their appearance. Still, that are amazingly unique. Because of the rarer, recessive nature, they generally only swamp/wheat/greenish colors, and only come in a narrower range of patterns, including speckled, smoked, striped, ticked, and marbled. Though, because of the fact that speckled exist, pearled and fawned theoretically could too- there’s simply yet to be documented evidence of a successful fawned mutation.

Nubbed is another breed caused by a rare mutation that has been successfully bred into a small population. It’s very easy to spot because of it; the mutation clearly causing their front claws to be short, or ‘nubbed’. Nubbed can come in any color or pattern, though they tend to follow the standard/less extreme patterns and colors. This is because it was because of a mutation that actually happened really early in domestication, before a lot of colors or patterns were even bred, and is a recessive mutation making it hard to breed with rarer colors and patterns.

Saddlehorns are an extremly unique and very specialized breed. They’re definitely recognizable by their concave back and the nub near the base of their front claws. They also have a pattern that's unique to only saddlehorns- which is the 'cow spotted' pattern. However, it isn’t just random spots. Though they do have large splotches, they always have a band going around their middle as well. They can come in any pale color, and the markings are usually in the brown to dark, almost black range.

Bunin or “Bubbleheads” are actually a relative of hunchbacks, and not saddlehorns, despite the head similarity. They tend to follow the same rules as hunchbacks, but instead of greenish tones, they come in golds, yellows and warm-orange tones. There has also been confirmed cases of fawned and pearled bubbleheads.

Volkov are a common, albeit specific breed that's bred for it's ferocity, but also it's loyalty. They’re often easy to mistake for a standard, and combined with their relative commonality make them hard to identify to the untrained eye. They appear like standard headcrabs, except they have a slight hunch to them. Their real difference lies in the personality.

As mentioned, they’re loyal and very attentive to the rest of their cast, but have a ferocity and sharp hunting ability that comes with it’s protectiveness. They’re often used as pest control or ‘guard dogs’. This makes them suitable for those jobs, but poor choices for people who live in high population areas or have lots of visitors.

They generally come in browns and blacks, but can truthfully come in any color. They can come in MOST patterns- all but smoked and bullseye.

Batas are another weird breed with a unique patterns, which is the squiggly markings centralized on their rump. They only really come in variations of the color pictured, golds, flaxens, and sandy. Similar to pancakes, they're known for being very complacent with handling, making them good for those with kids or for shows, where the more prominent the markings the better they judge. The difference is the fact that the whole breed itself is prone to many health problems, as it’s very recessive and commonly inbred. Purebreds are pretty expensive.

Silkies or “thinskins” are a breed that came from a mutation that caused their skin to be extremely thin. They're questionable morally to keep, since they're prone to getting wounded very easily, even by their own fangs and claws. Because of this, they have to be debeaked and/or declawed, or must have fang caps at all times and their front claws filed regularly, les they hurt themselves.

They also generally have a myriad of other health problems because of the inbreeding needed to get them, and are prone to several diseases, skin problems, and increased chance of injury.

They generally dont have any patterns, but come in most all colors. However, because of their thin skin, their yellow blood tends to show through, giving any color a yellow tint- and appearing outright yellow on lighter coats.

Munchkins aren’t as much of a breed as they are a mutation, and can come in any color or pattern because of it. There can even be munchkins of other breeds.

Hookclaws are a very newly recognized breed, and still have yet to be fully explored. So far, they can come in pretty much any color, but they never have any patterns aside from a heavy gradient on their back. More research is being done to try and breed patterns onto them.

SUMMARY

Despite their nefarious beginnings, headcrabs quickly arose as a very common, domesticated companion in the post-combine years. Though they aren’t for everybody, they make a fascinating, unique pet for those willing to put in the work and research. Or, even if you aren’t interested in adoption; the history and genetics are a fascinating, competitive, and potentially lucrative field for any young entrepreneur.

So whether you’re looking for a new companion, someone to guard the house while you’re away, or simply a new career in genetics, headcrabs are an amazing species to look into.

#half life #half life 2 #headcrab #headcrabs #speculative biology #alien biology #my art #ask to tag #headcrabguide

4K notes · View notes

fandom-monium · 4 years ago

Text

For the Holidays

Summary: In which Spencer does not want to go to his high school reunion, but you tagging along changes things. “You doubting my skills, Dr. Reid?”

WC: 2.1k

Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fake-dating trope, pining (so much pining), Morgan trying to be a good big bro (and wingman)

Spencer Reid does not hate Christmas.

“Reid, come on⎼”

“No.”

“Just listen to me.”

“I did, and it’s a stupid idea.”

No, really. Because hating Christmas would imply he didn’t care. Which he does.

Like when Garcia never fails to drag him into decorating the bullpen every year. Obnoxious Christmas music plays in the background as they bomb Hotch’s office, and it’s worth the smile on his face when he walks in the next morning.

It would mean hating Rossi and his extravagant dinner parties. And yeah, he always hosts but these are just as special if not more so. His mansion is decked in fairy lights and streamers, the food are traditional holiday recipes, and the whole place seems a little less massive.

And he doesn’t hate his breaks. He nearly spits out his coffee when Morgan grumbles about how he almost tripped and fell over from the ice. He has to scramble away as the older man bats at him.

Or when Prentiss drops off holiday-themed pastries? Mhm, just thinking of the ribbon-tied box makes him salivate.

Hating the Christmas card is completely out of the question. Henry and Michael make them every year for the entire team, and JJ makes an effort to shake them out carefully for. It has a boyish charm Spencer never had at their age, a mess of glitter and construction paper. He displays it on his desk anyway.

And you. It would mean hating all the various hot chocolate beverages you’ve made since December started.

Apparently, it’s serious business⎼the art of hot chocolate making. You’ve leaned against his desk, hands waving about as you try to articulate to him the relevance, going over anything and everything you can remember of its history and significance. Of course, he knows all of this already, but he likes you too much to stop you. He almost releases a loving sigh. Instead, he settles for nodding and grinning at you, and he doesn’t really get it but he loves it: the hot chocolate, your pensive expression as you await his critique, even though by now he’s sure you know he has no other comments except ‘delicious’.

He loves it all. He loves you⎼all of you guys. Obviously.

So, no. He does not hate Christmas.

But that doesn’t mean he loves it either.

Which is why, when Morgan leans against his desk, he greets him as normal, a smile forming on his lips as he sets his book down. There is no danger here, except Morgan’s guns. And the heinous green and red envelope between his fingers⎼

Where the hell did he get that.

Spencer’s blood froze. His collection of trauma was nothing compared to this.

Now here he is, packing away his things so he can go home to his warm, cozy apartment and order takeout like he does every year. He's not one for change. No need to break tradition.

But Morgan is acting like a child. Wait, no, even children are better behaved than this. Children at least give up faster.

“I’m telling you, it’s a good idea.”

“As a certified genius, I can say with all honesty, it is not.”

“I promise you it’ll be fine,” Morgan reassures him, voice soothing. The letter, colorful and bright and an eye sore, mocks Spencer. He wishes his reflexes were faster, so he can snatch the abhorrent cluster of sparkles and poorly printed holiday cartoons. And shred it.

Maybe if he glares hard enough, it’ll burst into flames.

“Morgan, my class hated me. The whole school hated me,” Spencer shoves another book into his satchel. It's harder than he means to, and he sends a silent apology to Stephen King; he usually handles his books with care. But not right now. Now, he's tired and exasperated and he just wants to curl up on his couch with The Doctor. "I'm sure I won't be missed."

"But you’re the life of the party!"

Spencer looks up.

Morgan winces, "Yeah, even I wouldn't believe me.” Spencer snorts, continuing to stuff his belongings into his satchel. Morgan’s relentless however. “But you deserve to show them up. You’ve got degrees⎼plural⎼and you're a hotshot FBI agent.”

“Are you not aware of the tragedy that is my high school social experience?”

“Oh, I'm very aware, and thank you for being vulnerable with me. But it's because I care that I’m telling you.”

Morgan’s hand falls heavy on his shoulder, making Spencer pause. He meets his gaze, the man’s expression solemn.

“You deserve to rub it in their faces until the only thing they can smell is your success.”

Morgan grins when that draws out a laugh from him.

Spencer huffs, “Shouldn't we be the bigger person here by not going?”

The older man grimaces, retracting his hand as if the idea offends him. “Fuck that. Be a show off! They deserve to be knocked down a peg after what they did to you in high school.”

Spencer bites his lip. Yes, he’s accomplished, and yeah, as Morgan said, he’s a ‘hot shot FBI agent’. But the memories surge in like a broken dam, cruel laughter and harsh words crashing into him as if he’s twelve years old again. He’s an adult now, so he doesn’t topple over from the impact like before, but the pain is a phantom limb, old and familiar, and leaves a pit in his stomach.

He was a child prodigy then. How would going back as he is now be any different?

Morgan's heart clenches when an unspoken pain flits across Spencer’s face, glossing over his eyes. He can't imagine how deep the emotional scars go, but he knows Spencer needs some form of closure from his past. So when he found the invite, he knew they had to seize the chance. If he wants to continue to move forward, Spencer has to learn to let go. And right now, this is his first class ticket. It’s why he’s pushing this so hard.

This is for Spencer.

But the doctor shakes his head, a strained smile tugging his lips. “Morgan, I had no friends. Even if I go, what am I supposed to do once I arrive? It'd be awkward enough as is.”

“True,” The older man contemplates, a light bulb going off as he snaps his fingers. “You know what you should do? Ask (Your Name) to go with you.”

“(Your Name)?” Spencer jolts, fumbling to catch his phone. Despite being a man of science, his eyes dart around, like you’re a demon summoned at the mention of your name. “Wha-what? Why?”

“They could act as your buffer. And you did say you wanted to be closer with them. This is the perfect opportunity,” Morgan shrugs. Like his suggestion is common sense, logical. Maybe it is.

But this is you they’re talking about. You would never. You’re too cool for a silly high school reunion.

At least, that’s what he’s convinced himself as Spencer’s face pinches. He catches his lip with his teeth. “Morgan, I appreciate the… thought, but I could never ask (Your Name).”

“Ask me what?”

… Oh no. You are a demon.

Spencer whirls around in time to see the glass door shut behind you. You stand there in all your poise and beauty, the fluorescent lights softening your expression. You're bundled up in a matching coat and scarf, the knitted beanie snug on your crown and clashing with your outfit (Garcia told you it’s not your Christmas present, but you’ve worn it everyday since). There’s sprinkles of snow all over you.

You’re not a demon, Spencer decides, even as you brush a clump off your shoulder, nose scrunched in annoyance. More like a snow angel.

You tilt your head curiously when Spencer doesn’t answer immediately. There’s a knowing look on his face as Morgan, realizing the poor guy probably won’t respond any time soon, steps up.

“(Your Name), I thought you went home already.”

You cross the bullpen. “I was. Garcia walked me down and I got to the courtyard. Then I realized she had me so distracted that I left my phone charger,” You rummage around your desk and without looking up, you reiterate, “So ask me what?”

Spencer blinks. “What?”

“You had something to ask me, right?”

Right. That. He runs his fingers through his hair awkwardly. “Actually, I don’t⎼oof.”

Morgan jabs his side, “Yes, there is something Reid needs to ask you.” He sends him a meaningful look.

“Shoot.” You nod to them before rifling through your desk drawers. Nope, not there. You card through files and office supplies, oblivious to the conversation Spencer and Morgan have with their eyes, shooting looks and mouthing at each other.

You bend over your desk as Morgan gestures, Ask them!

Spencer shakes his head vigorously, No!

Do it, or I'll do it for you, he mouths.

Spencer squints at him. You wouldn't.

Morgan smirks and Spencer's heart drops to his stomach. Before he can run, shout for help, literally anything, the man slings a buff arm around his shoulders, forcing Spencer to slightly bend down to his level, hugging him to his side.

He's trapped. Stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Fuck.

“Reid is going to his high school reunion,” Morgan starts, biting back a grin when the nerd squirms against him. Both men boys watch, one excited and the other petrified as you disappear behind your desk.

“That’s nice.”

"Yeah. But all his classmates are older than him and married…“

“Uh-huh…” You scan the dark floors, half-listening as Spencer frowns at the unnecessary detail. He never told Morgan such a thing. He didn’t even know, so how would Morgan-?

“So, can you guys pretend to be a couple or something?”

Thud.

“What!?”

Luckily, neither of you notice the other’s surprise as Spencer chokes on air at the same time you let out a pained hiss.

Morgan lets him pull away, withholding a snicker. “You good, (Your Name)?”

“I’m okay!” Your head pops up from under your desk as you rub the top of your head. You blink owlishly. “I’m sorry, did you just ask me to pretend to be your partner?”

“Yes! But Reid’s partner,” Morgan emphasizes, slapping the doctor’s back hard enough he nudges forward.

You stand and Spencer straightens up, trying not to fidget as your gaze burns into his. You’ve known each other for quite some time now, and while Spencer likes to think he knows you pretty well, it bothers him when your expression becomes unreadable. He knows it shouldn't but it does. He’s a profiler, yet your thoughts are completely obscured by a mask. It only makes him more nervous than he already is.

His skin feels hot when your eyes trail over him, and he prays his scarf is enough to cover the flush spreading from his neck.

He's about to disintegrate when you finally answer.

"Okay."

His brow shoots up and his heart flips. You move away from your desk as he sputters, "Really? Are⎼are you sure? I don’t want to put you out of your way.”

“I wouldn’t have agreed otherwise. Why?” You step closer, and he can’t breathe, not without it hitting your face. You stare him down the bridge of your nose, eyes narrowed. “You doubting my skills, Dr. Reid?”

“What? No, of course not!”

You raise an eyebrow expectantly. “Then it’s settled? We’ll pretend to be a couple for your reunion thing?"

A beat of silence. Spencer realizes you're waiting for his confirmation. But panic rises like bile in his throat and he hesitates.

Maybe he should back out now, retract the entire conversation and take the embarrassment like a man. Tell you he was never planning to attend the stupid reunion because his classmates were (and probably still are) assholes. Honesty is key to any relationship after all.

Especially between coworkers. Ahem.

A flicker of movement and Spencer glances over your shoulder. Morgan nods frantically at him, teeth flashing as he grins wider than before. He gives him two thumbs up.

Maybe, for once, he should pull a Morgan and just vibe it.

Yeah. Yeah!

Swallowing, he nods to you, giving you his signature white-person smile because he's sure if he speaks he might blurt out something completely inappropriate. Like statistics on workplace relationships (they’re great reading material, okay).

Your lips quirk up. "Cool. Text me the details when you get the chance.”

You brush past him before he manages a reply, your footsteps fading. Morgan waggles his eyebrows at Spencer. Spencer blankly stares after you.

“What just happened?”

“You just got a date to your reunion. A fake date, mind you, but you’re welcome nonetheless,” Morgan smirks at him. “So, you got a plan, Pretty Boy?”

His face falls, and the hearts in his eyes⎼shit, had they always been there?⎼chip slightly.

He does not have a plan.

Deleted scene:

“Did you do it?”

“It went all according to plan, Mama.”

AN: I fucked myself over and wrote 7k+ and still counting. Now it’s an unplanned holiday mini series. This kind of stems from Bonding as this uses Mysterious!Reader. Also, I seem to be into pining (fuck established relationships, suffer in silenceee). Whatever holiday you celebrate, I hope you still enjoy this one shot!!

One of the biggest disappointments of CM: Spencer doesn’t confront his high school bullies. I read several fics of him doing so, but a lot of them have the bullies be just as much of an asshole as they were to him in the past, but he deserves more closure.

This will be my take on it. It’ll be a lot of pining but I hope to focus on the his hardships in a less angsty, dramatic way.

Hope you enjoy it!! There will be at least 3 parts?

Also, spread the usage of the term ‘partner’, which can be used for same-sex and opposite-sex relationships.

#spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #mgg x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x oc #mgg fanfiction #mgg imagine #mgg fic #my writing #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x oc #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds

624 notes · View notes

sagamemes · 4 years ago

Text

the sheridan tapes 📼 part one. here and under the cut, you can find a little under 120 lines of dialogue from the horror podcast the sheridan tapes, specifically from episodes one to three, edited for roleplay purposes. tw: police, murder, supernatural elements, mentions of apocalyptic scenarios, near death experiences, injuries, vehicular crash, recreational drug and alcohol use.

❝ jesus, [name]. you’re not making this easy, are you? ❞

❝ makes you wonder... do these things follow me because i chase them, or were they always following me? ❞

❝ darkness and complete disorientation does a number on the human brain. ❞

❝ i don't think he was a werewolf. ❞

❝ i’d call it the customer service smile. you know, the one that says ‘ thank you for shopping with us, please die now ’. ❞

❝ i’ve found the more showy the text, the less impressive the actual phenomena. ❞

❝ my job here is kind of… shaky at the moment. ❞

❝ [name] was also engaged in the study of the impossible in his free time. ❞

❝ so it’s just me who drives you up the wall then? ❞

❝ well, you’ll be happy to hear i haven’t been having any fun. no weed, no ghosts. ❞

❝ there hasn’t been a new lead on her case in more than half a year. ❞

❝ so here i am, wrapped up in a blanket, staring at my little fireplace, so bored i actually decided to call my sister for once. ❞

❝ it’s a little town near bandon. very little. nice little mini-market, and that’s about it. ❞

❝ i doubt i’ll sleep much tonight. that’s okay. i just feel like looking at the stars for a while. ❞

❝ it's probably for the best. i am simultaneously exhausted from the drive and absolutely wired from the coffee. ❞

❝ i wonder if there will still be ghosts out there when that happens? when the earth is gone? ❞

❝ glad to hear you’re enjoying yourself, then. ❞

❝ knowing doesn’t make things any easier, but it does make them a little less frightening. ❞

❝ that’s all just a lazy way of saying that the real explanation is too difficult—or too horrible—for them to accept. ❞

❝ it almost killed me, but in the end it settled for putting me in pt for a year while i figured out how to use my hands again. ❞

❝ he muttered something about my time being up. or maybe he said it wasn’t up. ❞

❝ i don’t really care that i didn’t get any writing done today. ❞

❝ nothing. not a single idea worth writing down, no itch i needed to scratch or question i needed to answer. ❞

❝ guess there really is no such thing as bad press. ❞

❝ i have no idea what a writer’s ‘ process ’ usually looks like, but i’m pretty sure it’s not this. ❞

❝ see what i have to deal with? god… siblings, am i right? ❞

❝ what can i say? i have a soft spot for gothic architecture. ❞

❝ computers have never been very good at reconciling paradoxes. ❞

❝ they’re pretty much over funding my little expeditions. ❞

❝ that kind of smile doesn’t normally show that many teeth. ❞

❝ you know, that’s only scary the first few times you do it. ❞

❝ one day, it will be dead. one day all the stars will burn out, go dark and silent. one day, everything will be so dark and so cold that no new stars can ever be born. the old ones will blink out one by one, like candles going out, and then… nothing. silence. darkness. void. ❞

❝ the simplest explanation is almost always the right one. ❞

❝ i don’t remember getting in my van, putting the key in the ignition, or speeding away from that house, but i must have. ❞

❝ no, no, i’m fine, i’m fine, just go bother someone else. ❞

❝ i haven’t eaten, moved, or written anything all day. ❞

❝ but maybe that's just the fact that it is two in the morning and my brain is running mostly on caffeine. ❞

❝ given how good a [job] he is, i know it’s not the first time he’s done it. ❞

❝ i escaped, but i knew that whatever was in that house has just marked me as prey. ❞

❝ calm down. think. you’re just going to confuse yourself. ❞

❝ just wanted to tell you a couple of us are headed out to marvin’s for drinks if you want to come. ❞

❝ one of the most disappointing things about living in america is the lack of genuinely haunted houses. out of all the supposed haunts i’ve visited, maybe one in ten seems like the real deal. ❞

❝ sounds… peaceful. not many distractions, then? ❞

❝ something tells me this tape wasn’t played in court. ❞

❝ one of the neighbours must have called 911. ❞

❝ my infamous accident. it almost killed me. ❞

❝ i just woke up to footsteps in the kitchen. i don’t know who, or what, but there’s someone in here with me! ❞

❝ could you shut the door on your way out, please? ❞

❝ uh, wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon. ❞

❝ the fire that i said went out? yeah, it just started burning again. ❞

❝ so i asked him to lie. ❞

❝ it'd really be just a few of us. maybe me and [name] and one or two other tagalongs… ❞

❝ apparently, the press had a lot of questions too. ❞

❝ i’ve driven more than 8 hours and drunk enough bad coffee to give an elephant heart palpitations. i’m sure as hell going to get my money’s worth. ❞

❝ oh sorry, am i bothering you now? what happened to ‘ call anytime you want, [name] ’ or, ‘ you’re always welcome here, [name] ’ ? ❞

❝ i’ve forgotten to charge my phone. again. ❞

❝ i… think i’m going to turn around now. ❞

❝ well sorry if i wanted to have a nice talk with my sister for a change. ❞

❝ will it just be left there forever? our legacy? look upon our works, ye mighty, and despair? ❞

❝ no matter how far away from home you are, no matter how different the constellations might look from where you’re standing, you can always look up on a clear, dark night and feel like you’re about to fall right into it—the terrifying, endless expanse of nothingness. ❞

❝ i know authors can do some crazy things to get out of writer’s block, but i’ve never heard of one resorting to arson. ❞

❝ why do you always think there’s something wrong? ❞

❝ ours is not to question why, ours is but to digitize and stay the hell out of trouble. ❞

❝ so let’s try walking backwards. just keep an eye on it. ❞

❝ i got lucky. or maybe i was just fast enough to escape. ❞

❝ maybe there are secret passages behind the walls and corridors. ❞

❝ no matter how far i walked, i couldn’t find the way i came in. ❞

❝ well, i /know/ i’ve had worst nights. i just can’t think of any right now. ❞

❝ i do want you to have fun, [name], i just don’t want you to get yourself killed doing it. ❞

❝ i mean, obviously, i do care, that’s the whole reason i made this trip. to get away from the noise and focus. ❞

❝ i might have… forgotten to tell anyone where i was going. ❞

❝ before i get started, there’s just one thing i need to say. i have absolutely no patience for the unexplained, or the things people call ‘ unexplainable ’, ‘ supernatural ’, or ‘ paranormal ’. ❞

❝ i told [name] that i needed to get out, to get inspired. ❞

❝ okay, if someone is messing with me, they’re going to be very sorry, very quickly. ❞

❝ [name] lied his ass off to save yours. ❞

❝ a crash like that does funny things to your head. ❞

❝ i still don’t know how he got there without me noticing. ❞

❝ any plans i had to travel abroad went up in smoke. ❞

❝ i thought of pulling out the bad cop routine. ❞

❝ strange how something so dead can be so beautiful. ❞

❝ it hated me: hated what i do, and more than that, hated who i am. ❞

❝ lots of tall tales. and more than a few ghost stories. ❞

❝ oh good, you’re still here! ❞

❝ reviewers absolutely grilled it: said it was a nonsensical rip off of the dark tower, whatever that means. ❞

❝ i jumped out the window. cut my hands on the glass, but thankfully not bad enough to need stitches ❞

❝ i told her, tonight. ❞

❝ for a minute, i wondered if that would really be so bad. it was a fitting way to go, given my… well, everything. ❞

❝ i suppose that’s a universal constant—maybe the only one. ❞

❝ i never let myself get this turned around. especially not at night. ❞

❝ i don’t know if it’s actually haunted. but if not, then it was sure as hell convincing. ❞

❝ i’m not one of those people who thinks she’s the spawn of satan or something ridiculous like that. ❞

❝ unless i’m prepared to accept that she was murdered by something that crawled out of a funhouse mirror, this isn’t much help with the case, either. ❞

❝ i have to try and work some actual cases the rest of the time. you know, cases that might have some answers i can find. ❞

❝ it's cold, damp, and dark as night. i'm in my element, at least. ❞

❝ your place is waiting for you. ❞

❝ yeah, i’m all good. great… hanging in there, you know? one day at a time. ❞

❝ oh, i see you. you think i’m still scared of [thing], huh? think you can freak me out? ❞

❝ trust me, i’ve had a hell of a day, and you do not want to mess with a pissed off… ❞

❝ and tell my sister i'm sorry. ❞

❝ oh god, it's cold. ❞

❝ the night sky really is beautiful out here. ❞

❝ tell him he shouldn’t have been such a good liar. ❞

❝ i’ve been listening to this for the last two weeks now. ❞

❝ it’s not even that i’m having bad ideas. i’m not having any at all. ❞

❝ can’t get away from the work, no matter what i do. ❞

❝ i made sure i switched off my phone before i came up here, just in case. ❞

❝ god, these things smell of weed. ❞

❝ yeah, well… just wanted to make sure you’re okay, you know? ❞

❝ [name] is dead. that's all there is to it. ❞

❝ no, i need to get out of here. it’s been a long day. ❞

❝ a lot of the art i found was just paintings of a night sky full of stars. ❞

❝ my job is to look the facts dead in the face and find an explanation. one that will hold up in a court of law. ❞

❝ personal and career choices, i guess you’d call them. ❞

❝ damn. i could’ve sworn i felt something strange about this place when i hiked through this morning… or maybe it was a different part. hard to tell this late at night, anyway. ❞

❝ well, let’s just say a middle-aged man-child running out panicked and tearing at his eyes would hardly be a marketable image. ❞

❝ i didn’t mind that i’d be alone—i always expected that to be how i went. ❞

❝ i’m sure that’s on my personnel file by now, as if it could get any more problematic. ❞

#sentence starters #sentence meme #rp sentence starters #rp sentence meme #starters #rp starters #* sentences.#* meme.#sheridan

170 notes · View notes

unmaskedagain · 5 years ago

Text

Yeah, I’m done

I got in this prompt in November, if I remember right. I didn’t really look at it because… What the hell is a fall out fic?!!! I thought maybe it meant Lila exposed but I’ve done quite a few of those. However, I don’t really think I ever focused on it too much; usually, I stray to all the wonderful things Marinette does without them. This came from someone anonymous so It's not like I can just ask the sender… SO I decided to wing it.

Marinette could honestly say she had waited a very long time for Lila to be exposed as the liar she was. Over a year in fact. A very long fourteen months.

If Marinette was honest with herself, she would also add that she stopped waiting for any reason other than the fact she hated lies about… seven months, three days, and seven hours ago.

Why did she remember that so well?

That was the moment Marinette stopped trying to save everyone. Don’t get her wrong; she was still Ladybug. Ladybug was still a kickass hero. She did her job better than ever before.

However, Marinette decided to take a step back, breathe, and let the chips fall where they may.

Her fellow students, her once friends, had been trapped in the spider web of Lila’s tales; awestruck and utterly hypnotized into believing everything the Italian girl had to say. Even the ones about a girl most had known their entire lives.

A bully, they called her.

A selfish jerk.

A jealous bitch.

Her! Marinette! The girl who had done so much for them; had gone to bat for them more times than she could count, and obviously more times than they could remember.

Slowly, one by one, her friendship with each and every member of the class withered and died until there was nothing left but ashes.

It was then Marinette realized some things weren’t worth saving.

Marinette had no trouble forgiving them; it was who she was. But she promised herself she wouldn’t forget.

And if they could treat her like this, after everything, that she didn’t want to be friends with them anyway. Not now, not ever.

When Marinette stood up and announced her resignation from being Class President at the end of the prior school year, the entire class cheered. Like they did when Chloe was forced out of office. (…That only broke Marinette’s heart a little.)

The bluenette changed her number the day after school officially let out for summer. It wouldn’t matter, she knew. She doubted they’d even realize. Most hadn’t so much as texted her in months. Unless they needed something; a favor.

But Marinette was done with favors. Done with free commissions that no one ever seemed to realize cost her an arm and a leg; the fabric was expensive, art supplies for banners were expensive, designing was time-consuming. She was done with any free babysitting. She was done to bring in free sweets on big test days or when the class had a hard week prior. Marinette was done fundraising for class trips and events Bustier would exclude her from at the behest of the rest of the class for her “poor attitude” and “negative energy”. She was done with planning birthdays, making special presents, when no one in class even bothered to wish her a happy birthday.

And most of all, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was done fighting for people who didn’t fight for her. She had tried for months and months to get them to listen to her and what did she get in return? Deemed a green-eyed Liar! As far as she was concerned Lila and Chloe could have at it; do whatever they wanted.

She didn’t have a single friend in class.

They weren’t her concern anymore.

…

It took about a month into the new school years for the class to really understand that. Lila had originally voted in as class president, and had feigned a few tears while thanking the class for the honor but had declined due to being too busy. So Alya was voted in next.

Alya handled the first two birthdays, Ivan’s and Alix’s, really well; she decorated their desks, gave them a birthday card. However, the usual tray of baked goods that were usually brought in for every birthday never showed.

When Alya inquired if Bustier had forgotten to order the cupcakes, the teacher had looked confused.

Marinette tried not to smirk as she sat in the back of the class, pretending to look over her sketchbook.

“I’ve never ordered any before,” Bustier said. “Marinette always did. She was class president. It was her job.”

The two looked back at Marinette; expectant looks on their faces.

The Asian girl snorted. It was never the class president’s job. Chloe never did it in all the years she ruled the class with an iron fist. Marinette had done it because she had been their friend. And she didn’t order them. She bought the ingredients and made them herself.

“It’s the job for the new class president,” Marinette corrected and watched Alya’s face fall. Normally, at that point, Alya would try to ask Marinette for a favor; for Marinette to do it instead.

However, the glasses-wearing girl had taken to ignoring her ex-bestie as much as she could.

“Fine!” Alya huffed. “I’ll do it myself.”

The next thing the class realized had changed was when Bustier announced, “Maybe it’s time we start planning for any class field trips?”

Alya had nodded earnestly, and started making outrageous plans for all the trips the class could take; one to Paris Disney world, another to England, New York, L.A, and so many other very costly ideas.

Ideas, when Marinette was Class president, she would’ve quickly shot down as being impractical, expensive, dangerous, impossible, and any whatever other reason she could think of so the class wouldn’t get their hopes up.

Alya did no such thing.

Marinette just shook her head, and let her ex-friend dig her own grave.

The announcement happened in the morning. Alya had stayed behind when the bell rang for lunch to talk to the teacher and had blatantly glared at Marinette as she said so

And Marinette knew exactly what Alya was planning on talking to Bustier about.

Sure enough, at the end of the school day, Bustier had made another announcement; in front of the entire class.

Marinette really hated how unprofessional the teacher was.

Bustier made it clear that, once again, Marinette was excluded from the class trips that year until her behavior changed. This caused half the class, specifically Lila and Alya, to send her smug looks.

Marinette had nodded, “I understand, Miss Bustier. I can’t say it won’t be a relief not to have to help fundraiser.” The smug looks didn’t entirely disappear but a few faces looked confused instead as if they didn’t realize that meant Marinette wouldn’t help. “I always hated all the planning it took,” And doing all the work, she didn’t add. “Fundraiser after fundraiser. Coming up with the budget, making reservations, clearing it with the school board, clearing it with the parents, getting chaperones, actually raising the money.” She gave a fake sad sigh. “Oh well. Hope you guys have a blast though.”

Then it came time to plan for the first fundraiser. A bake sale.

Marinette had nearly fallen out of her chair laughing when Alya brought it up. Because the bluenette had always hated doing bake sales as she was the only one who ever brought in any baked goods. It was like the entire class thought that just because Marinette lived in a bakery it would be easy for her to get all the food needed.

It wasn’t. She made most of it herself and bought the rest with her own money.

“So who’s going to bring what?” Alya asked. She looked straight at Marinette and seemed to wat for the bluenette to speak. Only for Marinette to raise an eyebrow as if daring her to ask. Alya looked surprised for a moment before she seemed to remember that Marinette wasn’t going to help out. “We’ll make a list.”

No one said a word.

Marinette leaned back in her seat, with a smirk on her face. Alya had said they needed to raise at least $2,000 for the bakery. A highly unrealistic goal. Marinette had only ever raised $423 from a bake sale before.

“I can bring in cookies,” Alya offered once the silence and confused looks continued. “Anyone else? Nino?” She asked her boyfriend.

Nino’s eyes went wide, “Uh, I usually just play the music.” Alya glared at him. “But my mom has a killer blondie recipe. I can ask her to make some.”

Alya nodded, “Sweet. Rose?” And then, one by one, Alya called on each member of the class to see what she could force them to bring.

Even though all but one person in the class promised to bring something; it still wasn’t enough. It wasn’t a very big class. Theirs were the smallest in the entire school which was why new kids always got stuffed with them. In addition, flyers and a banner still needed to be made to promote the fundraiser.

It was clear as she looked at the list that Alya knew they were in trouble. And again, her eyes went to Marinette, a little bit more pleading now. Marinette just shook her head and started sketching a new dress.

She was done with always coming to the rescue.

Marinette didn’t go the bake sale. However, she heard about how much of a disaster it was from Aurore, her new friend from Mendeleiev’s class.

Half the food was burnt and overpriced. The flyers were terrible. And then it rained halfway through.

Suffice to say, the fundraiser was a bust.

And so were the fundraisers that came after it. Never once did the class meet their goals; though admittedly, their goals were never realistic, to begin with.

Marinette knew for certain by December that there was no way the class was taking any of the “oh so amazing trips, and it’s such a pity you can’t go, Marinette” they had planned. Or any good trip for that matter.

It took months for the school board to approve big trips; weeks to approve small ones. Paperwork needed to be filed with detailed plans ready to present. If a big trip got approved, and then for some reason, they couldn’t go and decided to do a smaller trip instead, new Paperwork would need to be filled out. The new trip would need to be approved. It wasn’t like Bustier could take the class somewhere without permission. And if it wasn’t done in time, there would be no trip.

In late October, Marinette posted a flyer on the class board, and around the school, promoting her new website. It got curious glances but only Adrien asked about it.

Adrien, who was neither enemy nor friend, but a neutral party who refused to get involved. His version of the high road, Marinette guessed.

“What’s that?” He asked. “You starting your own business?”

Marinette nodded, “MDC designs. I designed a bunch of clothes over the summer and got a few friends to model them; Aurore, Marc, Luka,” Juleka looked up at the mention of her brother “Kagami, Ondine, Claude Mireille; and a bunch of girls from the fashion club. People can choose the premade designs already promoted on the site and I can send it to them in their size. Or they can contact me for a custom piece; dresses, scarfs, nearly anything really. That’s a lot more expensive, though. Not at much as it would’ve been, say last year, but now that I’ve stopped doing free commissions, I could lower the price.” She said the last sentence louder than polite but she wanted the entire class to hear.

No one in class blinked twice at her statement. However, Marinette knew they would.

Adrien nodded happily, “Cool, that’s kind of what my dad did in the late 90s when he was starting out. Computers were like barely a thing he said.”

Marinette couldn’t picture a time without computers or her smartphone and couldn’t imagine a life without the internet. She shivered at the thought. “Aurore’s become really well known as an Instagram model. I gave her a few outfits in exchange for her promoting my stuff. She even got a few of her model friends to promote my clothes as well. It’s going really well. If the trend continues; I was thinking of doing a live, online, runway show. I’ve already been scouting places.”

That got some envious looks. Whether it was because Marinette was doing so well or because others would be used as her model, she didn’t know. She didn’t care.

Marinette was done caring about every stupid little thing.

The blond just nodded with enthusiasm, “You’re a great designer. I’m sure you’ll be a hit in no time.

“Hopefully, rather than later,” Marinette smiled. “It’ll go even better when Nadja promotes me on her show. I just have to babysit Manon for free for five random days of Nadja’s request that she could request … any time.” It had been a steep price but Marinette had been willing to pay. “She’ll even promote my runway show if I ever have it.”

The first time someone, Mylene, realized just what Marinette had meant when the drama club inquired to her about getting more costumes for the school play and she had no one to turn to. She took one look at commission prices for local tailors for custom pieces and nearly threw up. Marinette’s website, while still expensive, was a much better deal. Still, Mylene couldn’t afford it.

Nino needed a gift for his mom and remembered how much she loved the scarf he got her last year. He thought it was a good idea to get her something similar. But then he remembered Marinette had made the scarf. And Alya would kill him if he bought anything from Marinette’s website. So Nino settled on something small.

When the school dance came, for the first time the majority of the girls in class would have to buy their own dresses. They came from a store, were cheaply made, and were not nearly as amazing as the ones they previously wore.

All in all, it wasn’t the greatest year for Bustier’s class. Midterms had taken a heavy toll. It tense and everyone was clearly frustrated. So were Marinette’s friends from other classes. So during Lunch, Marinette surprised her table with delicious baked goods as a pick me up. The ones she normally would’ve brought just for her class.

Marinette pretended not to notice the hopeful looks on her classmates faces when she walked by with the iconic light blue Dupain-Cheng bakery box. And ignored the crestfallen looks on their faces when she headed them out to just her friends.

In April, it was clear that the trip to New York had fallen through as they didn’t have enough money. Alya had to rush to get something small approved before the end of the year; a trip to the local amusement park. Marinette didn’t laugh when Alya announced it to the class who looked really bummed all their hard work didn’t pay off. She didn’t even blink twice. It had nothing to do with her after all.

In May, the truth finally came out. It happened on a Thursday.

Lila had forgotten her lunch bag at home. Her mother brought it. Lila’s eyes went wide at seeing her mother and she did everything she could to get her out of the class as soon as possible.

Rose asked Mrs. Rossi, “How the meeting in Achu went?”

To which Lila’s mother replied, “A what now? I’ve never been to Achu.”

Marinette had merely leaned back in her seat to watch the fireworks.

And it was beautiful.

It was an even bet as to who had the bigger meltdown.

Mrs. Rossi: when she learned just how much her daughter had been lying; to her, to the school, to her classmates, and basically everyone she met since moving to Paris. Apparently, it wasn’t the first time and it caused a lot of trouble in the past which was why they had to move to France. Mrs. Rossi was quick to refute any rumors about celebrity meetings, traveling around the world, and ever meeting any royalty. And that Lila had no medical issues whatsoever and didn’t participate in any charity organization.

Lila: she had nearly been Akumatized when her mother started to reveal the truth. Luckily, Ladybug had been nearby to catch the little butterfly. (Marinette had just left to the bathroom, not that anyone had really noticed). The hero refuted ever knowing Lila outside of stopping her akuma forms.

And Finally Alya: who had burst into an angry rant and furious tears at being lied to. It was another near akumatization. Alya had to be physically restrained from attacking Lila once the realization hit her about her blog being discredited for lies.

A lot of the class yelled and made accusations but no reaction was nearly as extreme as the other three. Lila had taken advantage of her classmates for almost two years. They carried her books, remade plans so she could be included, took notes for her, threw parties to celebrate her newest accomplishments.

However, Marinette noted, not one of them mention the friendship they had destroyed because of their belief in Lila. She shouldn’t have been surprised.

The bluenette had long since realized she wasn’t ever as important to her ex-friends she once thought.

The entire class was still angry the next day. Lila didn’t show so vented to each other.

Marinette still sat in the back of the class, content to come up with designs to present to a nice lady who wanted a killer dress to wear to her sister’s wedding, and let the class deal with its own drama.

Unfortunately, some people didn’t get a clue.

“Marinette,” Adrien said brightly. Marinette fought not to look up at the sky and ask god why. “What do you think about the Lila situation?”

“I don’t really care,” The bluenette said. “I was done with the whole thing a while ago.”

Suddenly everyone remembered Marinette was there. Marinette who swore Lila was lying for months. Marinette who they had ostracized and exiled. Marinette who they had ignored. Marinette who had once been their friend.

Rose gasped, her hand over mouth, tears welled up in her eyes, “Marinette! I’m so sorry,” She cried.

“I can’t believe we were so mean to you,” Juleka said.

“Dudette, I had no clue what I was thinking,” Nino said.

More apologies came, each one more heartfelt than the last. Alya had been last. She looked like she had been stabbed from the pain her face. Eventually, the glasses-wearing girl cried, “I’m so sorry girl! I’ve been the worst bestie ever. I should’ve believed you over Lie-La.”

Marinette looked at her classmates, shrugged, and said, “Okay.” Then she went back to looking working.

That was it. However, clearly by the silence that came from the class. They had been expected a bigger reaction. Tears of joy and relief. Happiness to have her friends back. Anything but they got nothing.

Alya frowned, “Didn’t you hear us? We’re sorry. We should’ve trusted you, we know that now. We’ll make it up to you, we promise.”

Marinette sighed but shook her head. “No. Thank you. I don’t need you to make it up to me,” She said. “I don’t want you to make it up to me. Just keep doing what you’ve been doing.”

“But, but…” Rose looked around for help. “We’re friends again.”

“Yeah,” Adrien said brightly. “It can go back to the way it was.”

At that, Marinette put down her pencil. She gave the class a hard look. “Let me make this clear because I have no intention of repeating myself: we are not friends. None of you,” She gave pointed looks to her ex-friends, the longest to Adrien and Alya. “Are my friends. You were mean. You called me names. You spread nasty lies about me because Lila told them to you. You excluded me from all class activities; despite the fact that last year I did the majority of the fundraising, the planning, and the work. You hurt me. Things will not go back to the way they were. I don’t trust you. We are not friends. And we will never be friends again. No amount of apologies will change that.”

Alya went to protest, “Girl, we’re-”

Marinette interrupted her, “Just move on. I have.” Then put her headphones in until Bustier managed to get control back over the class. As far as Marinette was concerned there wasn’t anything left they could say.

…

That didn’t stop them from trying.

No one in the class seemed to believe that Marinette, their everyday Ladybug, wouldn’t forgive them. Lila had been withdrawn from school and no one knew what happened to her. And without Lila’s presence, the class was sure Marinette would have no problem moving on from the drama the Italian girl had caused.

They never even considered the fact that Marinette had never been angry at Lila. She hadn’t been happy at her lies. But she had been furious that her friends had fallen for them so easily, particularly the ones about the bluenette.

“Hey,” Alya said brightly stopping in front of Marinette’s desk the following Monday morning. She thought Marinette just needed the weekend to calm down. “All the girls are planning a slumber party at Rose’s on Friday, you in?”

“No,” Marinette said firmly. “I’m busy,” She offered politely.

And she would be “busy” every time they wanted her to do something.

Too busy to go to all the parties she had been previously excluded from. Her ex-friends still hadn’t realized Marinette had never wanted to go after she realized they just weren’t worth it anymore.

Too busy hanging out after school. Or go to Adrien’s photoshoot. (Alya just wouldn’t understand that Marinette was so done with her crush on Adrien.)

Too busy to help with the school play.

Too busy to watch Kitty Section preform.

Too busy to go play video games.

Every day, every moment they could; her ex-friends were trying to pressure her into being their friend again, hanging out with them again, forgiving them. They just wouldn’t take no for answer.

Honestly, Marinette was just done with their antics.

Particularly the incessant need to make sure Marinette was on the “big” class trip; as if they believed if Marinette went it would make up for everything.

Marinette made it clear she really, truly was way too busy to go some random beach trip. She really did have plans and she couldn’t back out of them. They were too important.

But her ex-friends kept bringing it up, with Alya leading the charge, over and over again. They didn’t care what Marinette wanted at all. And once more, Marinette was reminded why she was glad they weren’t her friends anymore.

Eventually, once again, they got the teacher involved. Bustier had so “nicely” announced in front of the class, that Marinette was more than welcome to go on the class trip with them and that they looked forward to coming along.

And as far as Marinette was concerned that was the final straw.

“I’m good,” Marinette said. “Seeing as my behavior hasn’t changed. I think its best I don’t go; right Miss Bustier? That was what you said? And obviously to you thought it was a good reason.” She reminded the teacher. Bustier flushed a pink color at being called out. “It wasn’t like you, an adult woman, caved into peer pressure from your students and a childish need to avoid confrontational situations.”

Silence from the class. No one had expected Marinette to react as she did. In their minds, she was still their “everyday ladybug”; the nicest and sweetest girl in school. The idea made Marinette scoff. Where was that mindset when Lila got ahold of them?

The bluenette glared at the teacher, the woman who should’ve never let the Lila issue get as far as it did; never let Marinette be ostracized and bullied. “I mean, you called me out in front of the entire class to tell me I couldn’t go. Not the first or last time, by the way, you did something so… crass. Not the most sensitive way either.”

“Well, I think-” Bustier had tried to say but was cut off.

Marinette wasn’t going to let her have a word in, “I’m so glad I started to record lesson last year, for you know notes? You know after that expulsion incident? I worried about what I’d miss. It made it so easy for my parents to understand why I was excluded from class events because they could watch it. I mean I have months and months of video evidence they just… loved. They got to see exactly what this class is like on an everyday basis, and exactly how you run it. So did our lawyer, who seemed rather interested in my school. It turns out that physically harming, via tripping or pushing them into walls as you walked by just hard enough for it to hurt. Or destroying private property; like a phone, spilling water on a laptop, or sketchbooks filled with work for commissions. Or verbally bullying someone. Or sending horrible texts daily, all of which I saved and printed out, can be considered harassment. Which is illegal and the perpetrators involved could face criminal charges as well as be sued for the destruction of said property and for emotional ramifications I suffered. But a teacher would never let anything like that happen in front of them so it wouldn’t be on any of the videos I have, right?”

She let the words fill the room. Bustier had paled dramatically and looked ready to faint. The rest of the students who had taken to bullying Marinette instead of ignoring her looked sick. Marinette had no sympathy for any of them. They got themselves into this mess.

Marinette shook her head, “I asked them to chill for now because you’re the teacher. You did what you did for a reason. It’s not like you’d shirk your responsibilities on the class representative. Or force some poor student to be a model example and mediator for all class issues. Or god forbid, cater to the bullies and blame the victim; allow one of your students to be verbally and physically harassed daily. The videos I have surely would never show anything like that; let alone prove it in a court of law… No matter what my lawyer says. But again, you don’t have to tell me why.” Marinette already knew why after all. And she was so done with Bustier. “You had to have had a good reason. Otherwise, I would have to take this to the school board. And a judge in a court of law. And see if you can explain it to them. Maybe I’ll even send them to my mom’s best friend Nadja so she can put them on her show and the world can see too. And we can find out what everyone thinks of you and your teaching methods.”

The threat was clear to all.

Bustier better back off. Or Marinette would make her back off.

The teacher only had to slip once, and she was done for.

“Enjoy the trip,” The bluenette smiled cheerfully, in a way that reminded them eerily how she used to smile at them when Marinette was still their friend; still their “everyday Ladybug”. But instead of bringing warmth as it used to, all they felt was shivers. “It might our last one altogether. After all, who knows where we’ll all be in September. May be separated into different classes. Or different schools. With the way Damocles expels students with no procedure whatsoever, you never know. Or have a new teacher. We can only guess. I think its best if we just… leave things alone. With the way things are, if you push, you might get pushed back… right off a cliff.”

Marinette was done playing games.

When the class left for their “big” trip, Marinette had finally let out a sigh of relief. Next, she was so transferring to Mendeleiev’s class.

She was done with Bustier’s class.

While the students of Bustier’s class were playing at the beach and plotting their next move to get Marinette to forgive them, Marinette was fulfilling one of her biggest dreams.

The bluenette did have for her online runway show. She had spent weeks and weeks promoting it on her website. Aurore, some of the fashion club, and other rising Instagram models walked the runway in Marinette’s new line. Jagged hosted. It hadn’t been Marinette’s idea, but Jagged complained to Penny when Marinette turned him down the first time and Penny talked to Marinette.

Chloe made a deal to her mother to watch the runaway show to review in exchange for Chloe being one of the models. Again, Marinette expressed concerns but couldn’t turn down the chance of Style Queen seeing her clothes.

Marc helped designed the runway; to give it an artistic, futuristic, edgy look. Claude brought in a smoke machine and his laser machine that the used for his short films to make everything really pop.

Clara Nightingale let Marinette use her music as the runway music. The superstar performed a song during the show and promoted it on her social media feed in exchange for a few custom pieces and Marinette getting Ladybug to do some selfies with her. (Tikki had to be bribed with an entire tray of chocolate chip cookies, and to be left alone with the TV in Marinette’s room for the night; something about finally catching up on Game of Thrones.) Marinette was quick to agree. Though Jagged had been in a huff until Marinette agreed to let him close out the show.

The world took notice, albeit mostly because of Jagged and Clara. But Audrey, the Style Queen herself, had raved about how cutting edge it was. She claimed that an underground, exclusive, fashion show was the new big thing in fashion. The clothes were marvelous too. All in all, MDC’s runway was exciting, sophisticated, and fresh, just like her new line.

Not long after Style Queen’s review posted, the orders had come flying in on her website. Everyone who was anyone seemed to NEED to be seen wearing the MDC brand.

Marinette had smiled ear to ear for the rest of the weekend. She looked forward to what the future would bring.

It was a new day.

Which was great because…

Marinette was so done with yesterday.

#ml fic #ml salt fic #ml salt #Marinette deserves better #marinette dupain cheng #class salt #alya salt #A bit of Adrien salt

4K notes · View notes

solangelover · 4 years ago

Text

"Look Both Ways First, Kids!”

Submission Prompt: Hello…I just thought of this prompt and love the way you write. Will is an elementary school teacher as a side job and his classroom habits slip out while talking to Nico and the others. Like when they go out in a group, Will is like: ‘Okay now everyone hold your buddy’s hand.’

A/N: I’m going to tweak the prompt a bit since like, elementary school teacher is not a side job LOL. So now we have a mortal AU with teacher!Will, grad student!Nico (not that it matters), and they’re hanging a mix of friends (I always do Cecil and Lou Ellen so I’ll try to mix it up more haha). (YO I’VE HAD HALF OF THIS WRITTEN FOR AT LEAST A YEAR SORRY)

Read on AO3 or FF.Net

“Bye, Mr. Solace!”

Will enthusiastically waved goodbye, his last student filing out of his classroom. Man, second graders were really just adorable. Also, very messy. Will turned his gaze upon the desks covered in glitter and paper scraps and sighed. Nico did tell him that this particular art project was a bad idea, but how else was Will going to teach the kids about the states in the US if they couldn’t cut them out and color them?

Will began the arduous process of cleaning up, humming lightly to himself. He had to actually get his gum scraper (yes, he always had it on hand even if gum was not allowed in school) to get glue off the desks. After vacuuming as much glitter out of the carpet as possible, Will dusted himself off and headed to a faculty meeting.

He came back to his room to find his boyfriend wiping down his desks. He let out a noise of surprise, startling slightly in the middle of the doorway. Nico looked up, a slow smile spreading across his face as he stood up from where he was leaning over a desk.

“Hey, Sunshine,” he greeted. “I see you went ahead with the glitter.”

Will rolled his eyes but didn’t respond to the jab, electing to walk over and throw his arms around the dark-haired man. “What are you doing here?”

Will leaned back to see Nico’s face as he started speaking. “We’re going out, aren’t we?”

“It’s like 4:00! Isn’t it kind of early?” Will untangled himself from his boyfriend after giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

Nico shrugged. “Jason said I should just get you from school. You know how he’s like an old man now and he sleeps early.” They both laughed in agreement. Jason got some government job out of college that fit his regiment of rising early and hitting the ground running. While he used to be able to hang with everyone late into the night, starting his career flipped his “adult switch” and he became “less fun,” in Leo’s words. Piper doesn’t mind much since Jason’s routine has helped steady her often turbulent schedule. She had started a small fashion company in college that really took off in the past year, meaning she had meeting after meeting with various people and often had no consistency between her workdays. Jason and Piper’s daily lives were drastically different, but they did good to balance each other out and keep each other grounded.

“Did Leo say he was coming?” Will asked as he began putting things away and shutting his windows.

“Yeah, I think so. And he’s bringing Calypso too.” Leo’s small mechanic shop had a few loyal customers, which was enough to make Leo content with his life. Then, as he tells it, a beautiful goddess waltzed into his garage covered in grease and dirt smudges, claiming to have broken down nearby and was in need of help. Leo said she gave him a decent rundown of what she found wrong with her car and was ecstatic to find that she was spot on. He was in love and, while it took a bit of charming and annoying, Leo convinced her to go out with him a few months ago.

“Oh, that’s good! I like her,” Will replied enthusiastically.

“I can’t believe she puts up with him,” Nico said in a flat voice.

“Don’t be so mean, Neeks,” the blonde said as they made their way out the door. “They’re good together and you know it. Besides, she teases Leo just as much as he does to everyone—“

“Probably why he’s whipped,” Nico cut in.

“Oh my gosh,” Will rolled his eyes as he grabbed Nico’s hand, swinging it between them.

They continued to talk and joke as they got into the car and drove downtown, where they were meeting their friends for dinner.

Once they parked and were getting out of the car, they heard a shout behind them. “Looks like the love birds finally made it!”

Nico rolled his eyes and replied without even turning around. “Don’t even talk, Pipes. You know you’re the queen of sappy romance.” Will could see the smirk on his boyfriend’s face as he rounded the car to stand next to him.

They turned in time to see the Piper’s offended expression as she strode up to them. “Excuse me,” she scoffed. “How dare you make such an accusation against me when we all know Jason is the mushiest one and he’s standing right here.”

The aforementioned blonde only sighed exasperatedly, knowing he never wins this argument. Then, a shameless grin grew on his face as he snaked his arm around his girlfriend’s waist, tugging her toward him. He shoved his nose in her face and crooned, “And don’t you forget it.”

“Woah, Jason, where’s my loving embrace?” an indignant voice cried out to their right. Will turned to see Leo walking hand-in-hand with a beautiful girl, her caramel-colored hair blowing back lightly in the breeze. Her cheeks were tinted pink as she giggled, watching her ridiculous boyfriend ramble on about being Jason’s first love and how no one cared about him around here.

Jason, ever the gentleman, immediately turned to Calypso to introduce himself, prompting everyone else to do the same.

“Leo’s told us a lot about you,” Will said politely. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you.”

“I’m glad to be here,” she said good-naturedly. “Leo’s told me many stories about you all, though I feel like they were a bit… embellished. I know for a fact that he isn’t a smooth, suave hero at all times.” She shot Leo a look that caused his cheeks to darken, even as he placed a hand on his chest in mock exaggeration. Nico was right—he was whipped.

“Oh, don’t worry. We have an endless list of embarrassing things Leo has done. We’ll fill in the gaps he probably left out,” Nico cut in. In all honesty, getting back at Leo for anything and everything he’s ever done to him was probably what he had looked forward to most about this dinner. Will couldn’t hold him back if he tried.

Before things could escalate any further, Will gestured toward the road. “Let’s head toward the restaurant before we spend the whole evening insulting each other in a parking lot. I like to have food with my entertainment.” He winked at Calypso, who laughed as she nodded in agreement.

The group mingled together, conversing loudly as they made their way toward the edge of the lot. Nico had clearly considered jaywalking across the street to the restaurant, but one stern look from his boyfriend had him pivoting to the nearest crosswalk.

Will pressed the crossing button and turned toward the group as they waited. They all continued chatting, not really paying attention to where they were going. He glanced at the crossing sign, hoping everyone could at least look forward when they stepped into the street.

When the sign lit up and his friends hadn’t moved, he spoke up on instinct. “Everyone, grab your buddy’s hand; we’re crossing the street!”

The chatter stopped, and Will blinked as all eyes stared back at him. “Um…” He glanced again at the sign, which was now counting down their seconds. Technically, you weren’t supposed to enter the road at this point, but the timer was still high. However, none of his friends seemed poised to move, so maybe he’d have to hold them back before they ended up sprinting across the street. “Are we—?”

A loud snort to his right cut him off. Will turned his head to see Nico doubled over in laughter. “You—” he tried to start, but he couldn’t hold his laughter in long enough to even form two words.

Soon enough, the others started laughing too—Leo and Piper, rather loudly, and Jason and Calypso, a bit more politely, the latter holding a hand over her mouth as her shoulders shook. Will continued to look confused, part of his mind still preoccupied with the light they were missing.

He replayed the last few minutes in his head, then promptly turned red as he groaned. His friends only laughed harder when he buried his head in his hands.

“I just want to cross the street,” he lamented through his fingers.

“But, Mr. Will,” Leo exclaimed. “You forgot to tell us to look both ways first!” He had tears gathering in the corners of his eyes from how much he was laughing. Honestly, Will thought they were all overreacting.

“Oh, come on! It wasn’t even that funny!” he cried.

“Will,” Jason started, in a consoling tone that the teacher did not think was warranted in this situation. “You didn’t hear it like we did.”

“You used your teacher voice!” Nico finally caught his breath enough to speak, though Will kind of wishes he hadn’t. “It was all high and cheery and—” He wiggled his fingers in an effort to express Will’s tone.

The blonde man turned back to see the light had changed, the red hand now mocking him and preventing him from leaving this conversation.

“You’re a teacher?” Will found Calypso looking at him with genuine curiosity in her eyes as the other four calmed down from their fits of laughter.

“Yes,” he sighed heavily. “And we had a field trip the other day. And I came straight from the classroom today.” He gazed at the others around him. “I guess I forgot I wasn’t dealing with second graders.”

Calypso carried on over the noises of indignation from the others. “Aw, second graders, how cute! Tell me about it!” Bless her, this saint of a woman, engaging in conversation and pushing Will’s slip-up away. It was a kind gesture and Will ran with it.

He quite literally turned his back on the others as he described what his day of geography and glitter was like to the woman.

In the next minute, when the light changed and the crossing sign lit up once more, he felt a hand slip into his. Nico was staring up at him, a grin on his face. “I call you as my crossing buddy.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah.” He looked to his other side to see the other couples also holding hands and smiling at him. The teacher rolled his eyes again and, before he stepped off the curb, brightly called out, “Look both ways first, kids!”

58 notes · View notes

rymndsmth · 4 years ago

Text

querencia (jang han seo)

🎤 hello and gather around fellow himbo lovers, here is a small fic about our beloved and his life after That guy kicks the bucket. also idk how i managed to turn this into a love story? anyways lmfao, hope y’all enjoy!

Everything felt so different.

Truthfully, Han Seo never imagined what his life could be like, would be like, without the proverbial ever tightening noose around his neck. One that had been unexpectedly and disappointingly placed on him as a child by the one person that was supposed to remove such things. He was now free of that person, and the fear that stemmed from veering off the path set by them, but wasn’t entirely too certain that he was free of that feeling.

His muscles couldn’t shake it. The sudden chill to the bone, the anticipation of retaliation from an act that hadn’t yet occurred. Such an act that could never occur anymore given that his brother was dead. He knew this, but his mind had never been good at accepting possibilities that were positive.

This much was evident in the case of his relationship with Vincenzo. There was no reason why the stoic yet baby faced Mafia member would want to keep him around, at least not any that he could see. So, Han Seo spent the first few weeks asking the question both silently and aloud, will you kill me? Vincenzo had the motive, it’s not exactly like his hands were clean in his previous dealings with Babel, and he most certainly had the means.

It wasn’t until Han Seo was told that because he was trying to make amends, he wouldn’t end up in the Jang family crypt well before his time that he started to feel at ease. Still, for months after that conversation, he still had the nagging feeling that some invisible fist was lurking around every bend.

Regardless of that, Han Seo decided he would not waste his liberation however short lived it might have been. He made up his mind that he was going to do all the things that he was either too scared or outright forbidden to do before. The first thing on his list was to clean up his business. Luckily for him, the Guillotine file made it easy to weed out the snakes in the grass and allow him to steer Babel in the direction that the core of the business was about.

The hardest part was going to be restoring the public’s faith in the organization. Cha Young told him as much, and advised him not to agonize over it as there will be new corruption that will grab their attention (and hers). He intended to be the Chairman that such a company deserved, and therefore continued to study no matter how nonsensical and outdated the information seemed.

The second order of business was moving out of the place that felt more like a prison than a home to one that he liked. The realtor immediately recommended a few luxury places, but he turned them down to their surprise. Maybe it was due to the fact that he had seen what the quest for material wealth had done to his family (or more realistically because he wanted to be closer to newfound hyung and his girlfriend).

Either way, the house he settled on had its luxuries, but in a more affordable and quaint neighborhood. Han Seo even went as far as to attempt painting on his own, which went as well as expected for someone that didn’t even know the difference between a brush and a roller.

Being able to do what he wanted proved to be chaotic at times. There was no one to stop him from going on last minute trips to Jeju just for oranges and a quick dip into the ocean. Or to take away all the sweet and savory snacks that he found at these things called convenience stores.

He would stay up all night sometimes, not to binge watch all the shows he missed out on, but just to sit in silence. He didn’t know that the quiet could be so nice. That it was a space of tranquility and relaxation rather than one filled with anxiety. Of course, Han Seo more often than not regretted the choice not to sleep and ended up at the cafe a few blocks from his place.

While obviously no one had better coffee than the one at Babel, he found himself going to the cozy spot with increasing frequency because of her. The first time he saw her, she was deciding on which apple to choose from the basket beside the register. He then noticed that her canvas bag was filled with art supplies, and decided that it was a brilliant idea to draw a conclusion.

I think the one to the right would make a great subject on paper, he grinned.

She stared at him in a way that made him contemplate whether to not she was related to Vincenzo hyung before replying flatly:

I’m looking for the tartest one to go with my tea.

He was left a bumbling mess of flustered sounds and rapidly blinks, not getting the opportunity to insert some retort that undoubtably would’ve put him deeper into the realm of idiot.

The following morning he went again. No cup of coffee, not even the ridiculously overpriced espresso at Babel, would give him that jolt of electricity he felt under her gaze. And sure enough, she was there. This time her apple sat upon a folded napkin right beside her tea, and in front of them both was her sketchpad. On the page? A picture of the fruit. He couldn’t control the noise of exasperation that left him as he passed her table. On his way out he tossed over his shoulder with a grin so wide it hurt:

Nice drawing.

Their interactions continued in that same vein. Short, filled with just the right amount of bite. The balance of who had the best and last say constantly shifting, becoming somewhat of a competition.

You’re outside today, is that weed your subject?

As if there weren’t enough clowns in this neighborhood already.

You buy a lot of lattes for an artist that’s supposed to be starving.

Ironic coming from the gentrifier walking around a working class neighborhood in thousand dollar shoes.

He had look up what that g word meant after their last exchange.

There was something else he never got to do in his past. Sure, Han Seo had the occasional date or two, but commitment? That was out of the question. It wouldn’t have served his brother well if there was anyone around that would motivate him to step out from his hold. The realization that he never had a serious relationship hadn’t hit him until he started to have inconvenient thoughts during board meetings about stuff like taking a long afternoon stroll, and holding hands with her.

Han Seo could barely focus on the stack of jargon dense reading before him. He sent Vincenzo a text saying that he was coming over with soju, not waiting for a reply before making the short journey to Geumga. Cha Young’s face fell when she answered the door, muttering that she thought he was her delivery, but lit up once she saw he brought along alcohol. After poking around the rice he begged for them to share and sighing loudly for half an hour, Vincenzo ushered him out. He implored him to get a hobby so that these late night visits wouldn’t become a habit.

He was confused by that. Weren’t studying and running a company hobbies? On his walk back home he spotted a flyer that someone was offering private classes for beginners painting. The nightmare of a time he had trying to get the walls in his kitchen evenly colored popped up in his brain, instantly making him tear off one of the numbers. He didn’t exactly know how learning to paint homes was going to be a practical hobby, but hell, he would have something to show Vincenzo later.

While he was on one of his impromptu trips to the seaside, Han Seo had his assistant set up the class for him to take when he returned. As a gift for the instructor, he thought it would be nice to bring them an extra bag of oranges. If the session sucked, or if he hated it, at the very least there was going to be something to brighten the mood.

The day he got back, he even went as far as to tidy up the place on his own and put some fresh flowers around so the air was lightly scented. He practically waited at the door until the alarm sounded to let him know that his instructor arrived.

Is this a joke? She huffed.

No, I didn’t even know you were the teacher! His protest was adamant. I was on a trip and even brought back Jeju- He paused. Han Seo knew he wasn’t the brightest, but bringing up the oranges seemed like it would upset her given their previous history.

You brought back what? Her brow raised.

Mmm, good energy! Don’t you feel the vibes from the ocean? He spread his arms wide.

Han Seo waved her inside hurriedly, trying desperately to get past the awkward exchange. Of all people, he never would’ve thought it would be the neighborhood’s cute sass machine. A small noise of happiness couldn’t be stopped from escaping him as she accepted the invitation. Her eyes scanned the place without restraint, nose wrinkling when she took a look at the kitchen.

Where are your supplies? A slender finger ran across the surface of his counter.

Supplies? He thought that was included in the price for the lessons.

She sighed, placing a sketchbook, brushes, and small pots of paint onto the table. It was now very apparent to him that the advertisement did not mean what he thought it did. Thank goodness he also didn’t decide to open his mouth about that beforehand, it probably would’ve made her smack him with her bag.

Here, the materials were slid over when he sat. Paint something.

His facial expression surely mirrored what he was thinking. Han Seo had no recollection of ever trying to do this, not even during the course of his way overpriced private school education. She urged him on with a nod, only relaxing into her chair when he flipped open the book and picked up a fine brush.

There was nothing in particular he wanted to paint. Hell, he didn’t even know if he wanted to paint at all. This was simply something random that came up when he needed it.

To avoid being chastised, he dipped his brush into the light blue color and started swiping randomly across the blank page. He swapped the brush and added some dark green, then pink, and finished if off with small dots of white. At the end it looked like something a toddler would’ve considered a masterpiece. She eyed it with surprising interest.

You clearly didn’t know what you wanted to achieve with this, or why you were doing it at all.

Han Seo was about to interject with a prideful defense before she continued.

That’s good. It’s better to work with an unbiased mind. Her eyes met his. Your technique is shit though.

He laughed, like truly laughed. It was a full bellied, unashamedly loud, attack of sonic waves. She seemed to find it amusing, a hint of a smile dancing across her lips.

Alright, let’s start with how to actually hold a paintbrush.

There was no telling when their interactions had gone from less than playful banter to warm and friendly (still with a side of joking). Han Seo couldn’t put his finger on it. Did it happen during the second lesson where he mistakenly put paint on her hands, and didn’t settle for no when he said he would wash them off for her?

Or was it the time he was running late for work, but the barista already had his order prepared because she told them that he was on the way? Perhaps it was the time she had to reschedule their Saturday morning for the evening instead, and all he could think about was trying to replicate the color of her alcohol flushed cheeks onto the page before him.

Han Seo had never done the whole confession thing before, so he wasn’t sure about how it worked. An unfamiliar kind of anxiety crept up his spine as he poured glasses of wine and organized a fruit plate. Soft music played in the background accompanied by the crackle of the expensive candles he bought specifically for the occasion. Her mouth parted slightly as she took everything in once she arrived for what was supposed to be an ordinary session involving watercolors.

Wow, got a hot date later or something? Her legs seemed to automatically take her to the table.

Actually, He brought the glasses over to where she sat. It’s for you.

Oh…She gasped. A few seconds passed that felt more like minutes before she picked one up and held it high. Cheers then!

Something about it made him feel like he made a mistake. Did he misread their change in demeanor towards one another? Was she truly just being kinder to him because she considered him to only be a friend? Han Seo tried to not let the embarrassment he felt seep into the room, keeping a smile locked and loaded for when she made a witty remark about stuff like him painting in the most inappropriate white button down.

Don’t you have something to say to me? She quipped, neatly putting her things away after he finished.

Me? I- no…I... He clenched his fists. Why couldn’t he come out and say it?! This was as good as a chance as he was ever going to get. If he let this opportunity slip, he wasn’t sure if there would be one again. He had to act, he had to-

What sounded like a small growl came from her as she raked her hand through her hair. She pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt, her nose just shy of rubbing against his.

Jang Han Seo, when are you gonna stop driving me insane? She murmured, labored breaths dancing across his cupid’s bow.

If only she knew how true and reciprocated that question was to him too. From the moment he couldn’t fight against thoughts about her entering his mind, to the smile she wore when he stepped across his threshold, and the way she said his goddamned name, it was all enough to make him want to combust. To burst out of his skin, transforming into something or someone else entirely. A person that fully accepted that there were no more restraints on their lives, that they was no more fear and no more betrayal. Someone that was completely in control, and free to take what was theirs. And so he did.

It was painful, almost, the first time he kissed her. The second time even more so. By the third time, coupled with the question of her tongue prodding at his bottom lip, Han Seo had shedded the last of his previous being. He cupped her face, thumbs toying with her curled sideburns as he consumed her. Quiet whimpers made way for desperate cries, shivers were replaced by the searing heat of skin on skin.

The high he’d chased fruitlessly so many times throughout his life was finally achieved with his arms wrapped tightly around her, their bodies pressed together as she shuddered and sighed his name. He was in disbelief that what he had experienced was real, so he chased it again and again, receiving the same result each time his sweat slicked forehead bowed to meet hers.

Han Seo would learn that it could be obtained outside of that space they filled with the tangible evidence of their desire. It was also in buying melon flavored ice pops to eat in the park together on sunny days. The look on Vincenzo and Cha Young’s face when he timidly made the introduction. Her expression when she took her first bite of Hee Soo’s tteokbokki. When Mr. Nam and her had an hour long debate on which shade of red made the most realistic fake blood color. The flashing Best Chairman Ever coming from her phone when Babel secured their biggest deal yet without any dirty deals behind the scenes.

That feeling, one that outshone the other by such a long shot that it was nearly eradicated, had been there all along in the life he’d made. She just helped him see it.

#*throws this and runs to take my dog for a walk*#jang han seo #vincenzo #fics.n

43 notes · View notes

emilyoftheshadows · 4 years ago

Text

Person A catches a bus home everyday, but today, they're so exhausted that they fall asleep, suddely they feel a light tap on their shoulder and open their eyes to see a cute guy/gal/person smiling at them. "Sorry to wake you, bit this is your stop, i hope you slept well"

So, this is the first piece I have written and posted here! This is a fluffy drabble loosely based on the prompt above as well as some tik tok ideas i've seen. I hope you enjoy and don't judge too hard :)

~~~~~~

Aelin never knew that she could feel such a wide range of emotions in such a short amount of time. The hectic events she had endured earlier in her day had left her drained and in dire need of sleep.

She started out her mornings as usual - brewing her coffee with the help of an overly excited Fleetfoot. On the subway ride to work, coffee in hand, she explicitly remembered checking her emails for any important notices regarding her job. As an advertising agent, she dealt with multiple clients at one time. With her meticulously organized calendar and the help of her overworked assistant Marion, she was usually able to keep everything in check. Today was not one of those days.

As she entered her office, Marion greeted her with her tablet in hand- Aelin’s schedule color coded, labeled and sorted by hour.

“Good morning Ms. Galathynius, ready to hear your schedule for today?” Aelin nodded, sipping her coffee as Marion listed her client meetings for the upcoming day. As they entered her office, Aelin paused.

“Marion, could you please repeat that first meeting again?”

“The Havilliard Scotch pitch at 12?” And that was when Aelin knew she was fucked. This pitch was meant for a well known drinking company in New York, fast on the come up. Havilliard Sr. was known to be picky about his branding, scrutinizing most agencies that had helped him before. She had barely gotten this client, practically begging Nehemia for the job. As she worked the branding, she had become worried about the content she was producing.

She was so worried about this pitch, that she had taken her laptop home last night in hopes of triple checking her work for mistakes and to fine tune some details. And that's where her laptop was at that moment. At her apartment, across town, sitting on her desk, collecting dust. Her mind raced at how to solve her predicament. The subway ride to and from her apartment was too long of a trip to make before the meeting and, like an amateur, she hadn’t saved her files anywhere else but her laptop. She was completely fucked.

Marion stood in the doorway, confused on what was going on in Aelin’s head. Aelin decided to finally release herself from her stupor. “Marion, could you please go find Aedion for me? And tell him it’s an emergency.”

With a determined look on her face, her assistant went as fast as her short legs could carry her to Aedion’s office on the adjacent part of the building floor she was on. Within minutes, Aedion was standing at her door, panting like he had just sprinted the fastest race of his life. The good thing about having her overbearing cousin work with her, is that she knew that in any problem he would help in an instant. And this was one hell of a fucking problem.

“What happened Aelin? Are you okay? Were you hurt? Do you need an ambulance?”

“You idiot I am physically fine, but still screwed and I need your help.” Aedion released the first breath Aelin had seen him take since entering her office.

“You know, when Marion power walked into my office saying you had an EMERGENCY and she didn’t know what was wrong with you, I definitely thought you would be passed out on your floor with blood on your face. But, you know, thanks for the heart attack. Really woke me up this morning.”

Aelin rolled her eyes at him. He was more dramatic than her, and that spoke volumes in itself.

“Aedion, please it really is an emergency. I have the big pitch for the Havilliard Scotch today and I left my laptop with the presentation at my apartment.” Aedion’s eyes widened in surprise. He knew that Aelin had been obsessed about this pitch and that mistakes like this only happened to her once in a blue moon. Aelin saw understanding dawn on his face and took that as a sign to continue.

“Now, I know a while back I sent you the rough drafts of the branding from when I first got the pitch. Is there any chance that you have the email or presentation saved still? If I have the basis of the presentation, I have an hour to build on it and hopefully fix this.”

Aedion’s face fell at the request. “We can go look, but you know I’m not the best at organizing my files Ace. It could be anywhere on my computer or not at all.” With those reaffirming words, Aelin and Aedion walked at a brisk pace back to his office. Combing through Aedion’s computer was an agonizing process. There were files saved from years ago that should’ve been deleted, and backtracking through all the contents of his computer made Aelin want to stab her eyes out. But it was all worth it, because hidden in the depths of this man’s terribly organized computer was the presentation. With a quick click of a button, she emailed the document to herself. She gave a half ass hug to Aedion, then practically ran to her office to start reworking her pitch on the computer there.

Aelin believed it was pure adrenaline that enabled her to finish her pitch in time for the Havilliard meeting. With a strong foundation laid out before her from her first draft, she had constructed almost her exact pitch that was left at home. Aelin waited for the Havilliards in the boardroom, smoothing out her clothes as she paced at the front. Far too soon, Marion escorted Havilliard Sr., Dorian Havilliard, and their close friend and partner Chaol Westfall into the room for her presentation. The three men had sat down in silence with no introduction, except for a small encouraging smile from the younger Havilliard. Taking that as her sign to start, Aelin cleared her throat.

“Hello gentlemen, today I want to present to you the future of Havilliard Scotch…”

---

As the men had exited the room single file, Aelin finally allowed herself to relax. That had felt like the longest pitch of her life. Going into the meeting, she had known the men were notorious for being extremely serious and critical of their agents. What she had not expected was the whispered words between the men after she had finished her presentation. As she looked on, Dorian Havilliard had finally broken away from their circle to address her.

“Miss Galathynius, thank you for your time. We will get back to you shortly about our decision to run with this branding or not.” With a quick nod and gesture to his companions, the trio had stood up and left the room. She was utterly shocked. Aelin had poured her sweat and tears into this pitch, quite literally, and they had just thanked her and left. No critiques, no opinions, no nothing.

Quite honestly, Aelin was exhausted. She had spent most of her brain power reworking that pitch in that 45 minutes before that meeting and she had nothing left to give today. Yet, she still had a full schedule left to woo clients and work on her other projects. By the time Aelin trudged back to the subway, she was ready for a nice dinner at home followed by a restorative night of sleep with Fleetfoot at her side.

Now, as she entered the subway, she immediately noticed the mystery man sitting down a few feet away from her. The man was moderately built, with muscles that were outlined by the fabric of his long sleeve t-shirt. His style was simple with a pair of nice jeans and Doc Marten boots, but that just allowed one's focus to settle on the beautiful creation that was his face. Mystery man had a strong jawline, lined with a bit of stubble and scruff. His eyes were a beautiful shade of green like none that she had seen before, his head topped with luscious silver hair. As the subway started, Mystery Man continued to sketch drawings into his book. Now, Aelin was never one to back down from an opportunity to flirt with one of the most attractive men she had ever seen. She was a single woman in a big city, why the hell not. But her day had taken a toll on her, and she just didn’t know if this was the right time or place. So, she opted to put in her headphones as she waited for her stop, listening to relaxing music to calm her anxieties regarding the failed Havilliard pitch.

Seeing that her stop was next, Aelin rose from her seat to wait in line for the doors to open. As she waited, she felt a light tap on her shoulder. Low and behold, there was the Mystery Man standing next to her with a piece of paper in hand. As she pulled her headphone out, the man silently handed her the paper. Looking down, she saw a pencil sketch of herself on the subway. The drawing was beautifully done with bold lines and harsh shading, contrasted by highlights created from the fluorescent lights of the subway. Her eyes welled up, immediately grateful for this thoughtful gift after such a horrible day. The Mystery Man saw her emotions, startled to see tears welling up in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude on your privacy. I just… I like to draw and when I saw you… I mean, it’s just you’re so stunning..” The man’s face flushed red as he tried to justify his beautiful art. Aelin laughed out loud for the first time today at his misunderstanding of her swell of emotions.

“Oh no, these are just tears of..uhmm.. happiness? I guess…” She started to flush at her own awkwardness, trying to explain her emotions this time.

“I just had a really rough day and feel like shit. But this drawing is beautiful and I really am grateful that such a talented artist like yourself chose me as your muse today.” Aelin watched as the Mystery Man reacted to such a lavish compliment, somehow developing an even deeper blush with a shy smile . Gaining confidence from his reaction, she decided to make her move before she exited for her upcoming stop.

“Hey, Mystery Man, why don’t I give you my number? Seeing that I am your muse and all, I would really like to learn more about your art.” It was a subpar pickup line at best, but hey, she had a long day and for the circumstance she thought it good enough. The man gave a deep timbered laugh at her pickup line, clearly enjoying their conversation now.

“I think I might be one step ahead of you actually. Flip the drawing over.” As she flipped the paper, she saw a messy scrawl with the name Rowan, and what she could only assume was his number. The sight of these two things brought her complete giddiness. Giddiness that made you want to jump in the air and pump your fist because you're so excited. She looked up at Rowan, smirking as she tucked the piece of paper into her purse.

As the subway doors opened and they were pushed apart by bypassers, she turned around one last time to look at the man who had brightened her day beyond belief. She winked at Rowan as she walked away, not missing the wide smile he gave in return as the subway doors closed and continued on to the next stop.

76 notes · View notes

basicjetsetter · 4 years ago

Text

Part III

♡ Pairing: Peter Parker x Black!FemaleReader

▹ Warnings: Mild Language, Small mention of suicide attempt, Start of the Slow Burn

▹ Words: 3.1k

▹ A/N: Get ready for the slowest slow burn of your life.

Peter Parker is your Soulmate.

Peter Parker is also Spider-Man.

Your bewildered brain tries to rapidly absorb this news as he swings you back onto your apartment’s roof and nimbly sets you down on your feet, safely away from the ledge.

Well, that explains all the times he went missing during school trips. Those days are like a distant memory now, but you hazily remember the day Spider-Man rescued your classmates from a collapsing elevator in the Washington Monument. It was all anyone in Midtown talked about for weeks.

The boy-next-door was your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man all this time. Shock lags in your system. For some weird reason, you aren’t that surprised by the sight of Peter in the Spider-Man suit or by the idea of him being an Avenger, and as you stand on this roof mere feet from him, all you're concerned about is what he might possibly say.

Your heart races as you skeptically watch him spin around to face you.

He rubs a quick, nervous hand against the back of his neck and then, in a split second, pulls off his mask.

Time’s barely touched him, but then again, you long pieced together that your Soulmate must have suffered from the blip. His slightly disheveled hair is still the same chestnut brown, and his cute, boyish features remain intact. The only thing different is his eyes. Nothing extremely drastic changed about them, but even in the dark of night, you spot that they’re somehow more mature than you remember, older in a way that oddly aches a small place in your heart.

All while you scrutinize Peter’s exposed face and apprehensively stare into his eyes, part of you braces for the fireworks to explode and all the stars in the universe to align. This is it, isn’t it? The fated moment your childhood stories preached to be an epically magical experience? Aren’t you supposed to feel something? Anything?

A cricket chirps nearby.

Peter clears his throat, extends a hand to you, and sheepishly says, “Um, h-hi.”

You stare at his hand until it drops down to his side.

“Oh, geez!” he smacks a hand to his forehead. “Sorry, sorry. That was dumb. You probably aren’t thinking about that right now. Are you okay?”

It takes a while to part your lips, and once they’re open, all that comes out is, “Huh?”

“Are—are you okay? You just fell off that ledge over there,” he adds the last part with a gesture to the ledge, as if he’s trying to jog your memory.

You glance at the edge of the roof behind you, then slowly drag your gaze back to him. “Yeah.” Shaking your head, you repeat louder, “Yeah, I’m fine. It was… it was an accident.”

He blows out a relieved breath. “That’s great. Glad I got to you in time cause that would have been a nasty fall.”

You try to hide your flinch, but you’re sure he catches it because he immediately casts his eyes downward, mumbling more apologies while shuffling from one foot to another.

Sobering silence clouds the air around you as the last five minutes replay in your mind. You nearly died. You were seconds away from ending your life. Peter Parker saved you.

Gulping past the enormous lump in your throat, you whisper, “Thank you.”

Both sides of Peter’s mouth quirk up into a soft smile. “You’re welcome.” He pauses for a few beats, appearing to choose his next words carefully, then says, “So… you’re my Soulmate.”

Hearing him speak the words aloud thickens the obstruction in your throat, and all you offer back is an acknowledging nod, which expands Peter’s smile into a grin so bright it trips up your galloping heart.

“I was beginning to think I’d never meet you. I kept, you know, hearing you say my name in my head, so I kinda guessed you were still out there somewhere. Just never thought you’d be in my neighborhood.” He holds out his hand again, and this time you grudgingly shake it. “We had Spanish together, right?”

Once again, you’re stunned into silence. How the hell does Peter even know you? Back in your high school days, you don’t ever remember speaking a word to him, let alone doing something memorable enough for him to know which class you took together. As far as you can recall, Spanish was the only class you shared, and half the time, he was too busy waiting for class to end to notice you.

While you search your memory's repressed files to trace back any time you may have interacted with Peter, he says your name, causing your eyes to flash to his.

“You know my name?”

“Yeah…” he answers like it’d be strange if he didn’t. “We were in the same class for a while, and you painted that really awesome Starry Night with my friend, Ned.”

Something faintly warm and fluttery pitches around in your chest, but you’re quick to stow away the feeling into a locked box. It’s just a compliment—nothing more, nothing less. He seems like a nice guy and all, but there is clearly nothing between you two. No sparks. No deep gazes. No instant connections. Nothing.

Disappointment stings like a cut in your chest as you hurry over to the ledge and gather up your art supplies. When you turn back around, Peter’s staring at you with disheartened confusion, furrowing his brows.

Words haphazardly spill out of your mouth. “It was nice meeting you, Peter, and um, thanks for saving me, but I gotta go cause I have work early in the morning, and it’s super late—”

“Wait, wait, wait!” he rushes, marginally lunging forward as you take a few steps toward the exit, hand outstretched to stop you. “I just—can you tell me where you work? Maybe I can come by, and we can, y’know, talk a little bit. Get to know each other?” he ends with a hopeful, lop-sided smile.

The “No, I don’t think that would be a good idea” sits right on the edge of your tongue, armed and ready for dispatch, but Peter’s anxious little smile stalls it in its tracks. Instead, you shockingly find yourself replying, “Hal’s Diner.”

Peter perks up. “Oh, cool. I know that place. It’s got good pie. So… um, guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, trying hard not to kick yourself for giving in so easily. Out of courtesy, you force a small smile onto your lips and say, “Goodnight, Peter.”

He returns your smile ten-fold. “Goodnight.”

As the exit door shuts behind you, you hear the slightest Thwip.

Why couldn’t you just say no?

✦ ✧✦ ✧

Bright and early, you show up at Hal’s Diner thirty-five minutes before you’re scheduled to be there, currently helping Hal prep for the Sunday breakfast crowd. To say your boss was astonished to see you at the front door nearly an hour before opening would be an understatement, but he thankfully didn’t question you.

After everything that transpired last night, from the fall to meeting Peter, the last thing you expected was a restful night’s sleep, but you were zonked the moment your head touched the pillow. For the first time in forever, those words didn’t plague your dreams and your every conscious thought. Your mind is now gloriously quiet.

You finally met your fated person, and now, you can eventually move on.

Except, not really… because Peter thinks it’s necessary to get to know you. Not if you can avoid it.

With that thought looming over your head from the second you woke up, you zoomed through your morning routine and made it out of your apartment in record time. You didn’t really have a game plan or destination in the works when you left, but you knew that your hands and mind needed to be busy to keep the more pressing thought at bay. Hence, your reason for prepping with Hal. At the moment, he’s droning on and on about what a mess last night’s shift turned out to be while you peel potatoes.

“And that new hire, the Dennis kid, screwed up three orders. Three consecutive orders! Two of ‘em from the same couple. If the boy weren’t so good at cleanup, he’d be out the door,” Hal swears, eyeing his inventory list. “Looks like we’re gonna have to stock up on eggs again.”

You hum to show you were listening, but it didn't really matter. Hal could go on like this for days, with or without an audience.

He leans his heavy body against the gigantic industrial refrigerator, then perches his thick-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his bulbous nose. “Alright, now you mind telling me what’s got you here so early?”

“Nothing,” you lie breezily, taking your bowl full of naked potatoes to the sink to rinse them off. The hot water runs freezing cold but gradually warms as you painstakingly rinse the whole surface of every potato, struggling to keep your hands and mind busy. “Just thought I’d be a good employee and help out my boss.”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffs with a laugh, “If that’s true, then there must be pigs flying in Central Park.”

You counter, “Are you insinuating I’m not a good employee?”

“No. Good help like you is hard to come by these days, and everyone in Queens knows I’d be the first in line to praise your workmanship. I’m actually just expressing a nagging concern I have with you notoriously being late and then, in the blink of an eye, turning up here before I can even fit the key in the door. Now, either something’s real wrong or something’s real right. Which one is it?”

Experience with Hal and his prying questions over the last three years taught you how to lie tactfully. Always start with a full lie, then go with a half-truth to throw him off your trail. “I finally got more than four hours of sleep.”

“Great!” Hal beams, clapping his hands together. “Now, why’s that?”

You sigh exasperatedly, “For the love of—Can’t good news just be good news, Hal? Must there be an explanation?”

“Alright, alright. I’ll back off.” He pushes his glasses back up, harrumphing, “Just know that truth is too damn narcissistic to be kept in the dark. It always finds a way to be seen.”

With that, Hal grabs a tattered dishrag and a bottle of cleaning solution off the nearest counter and leaves you in the kitchen, heading out to the dining area to give the booth tables one more wipe down, grumbling about buying new upholstery for the seats.

Try as he might, Hal doesn't have a hope of scaring you into telling him the whole truth. You’re not rolling over that easily. No one in this diner is ever going to find out that you met your Soulmate, and if you’re lucky, it’ll stay a secret until literal pigs are flying in Central Park.

Somehow, someway, you’re going to figure out how to escape whatever this connection is because there must be some cosmic loophole for those who simply don’t want their destiny. There’s no way you’re the only person on this planet who’s ever decided to break from their Soulmate.

If there is any sliver of a connection between you and Peter, he’d understand why you can’t stay. He’d understand, and he’d move on.

You hold onto this hope throughout the rest of the workday. Hal doesn’t badger you again as the diner opens and the Sunday crowd comes bustling in, hungry for syrup-saturated French toast sticks and freshly brewed coffee.

Every time the welcoming bell at the entrance jangled, your eyes fearfully snapped to the door, expecting chestnut hair and a boyishly thousand-watt smile. And every time it wasn’t him, an obnoxious pebble of dismay sank to the pit of your stomach. Between serving customer after customer and watching the door, time slipped away from you, and before you even registered the difference, the warm afternoon sun streamed directly into the diner, and the last ten minutes of your shift approached.

Chris is dragging out a goodbye with a dazzled mother and her teenage son, inadvertently milking more tips out of them with a hilarious story about his favorite ketchup stain on his apron, while Wendy mops over the same black and white tiles for the seventh time, blinking in and out and stifling yawns. You set down two plates of grilled cheeses and steak fries for a young couple, smiling with your plastic smile and brightly telling them to enjoy their meals and to call for you if they need anything else.

As soon as you turn around to check up on the regulars sitting at the stools, the bell jingles, and there in the entrance stands Peter, cheerfully greeted with a perfectly timed, “Welcome to Hal’s, dude!” from Chris.

Your heart stutter-stops, then bursts into a full-on sprint, and before you even understand what you’re doing, you duck down, scurrying behind the bar. Two regulars on the stools, a middle-aged biker nicknamed Spikes and his buddy Garrick, lean over the counter with querying stares. Hastily, you mouth, I’m not here, and they curtly nod in unison, sitting back down.

On the other side of the bar, you hear Chris seat Peter in a booth that sounds dangerously close to your hiding spot, so you squinch down as far as you can go, balling yourself up in a position your knees and back will hate you for later.

“My name’s Chris, and I shall be your server this fine afternoon. Anything I can start you off with…?”

“Peter,” Peter fills in, then answers, “And a slice of Banana Cream Pie would be great.”

You intently listen to the scratch of pen against paper as Chris scribbles down the order. “Sweet, dude. I’ll bring that out to you as soon as possible.”

“Thanks. And, hey, um… does a girl named Y/N work here?”

Your eyes bulge.

“Yeah! Do you want me to get her?” asks Chris helpfully while you internally scream, adding, “I think she might be in the back. Could have sworn she was out here a second ago.”

The best scenario out of this situation would be if Chris miraculously misses your hiding spot, walks into the back and sees you’re not there, then comes back out, missing you again, and informs Peter that you must’ve gone home early. The absolute worst being Chris trips over you and nearly breaks his neck.

By the way things are shaping up, you might as well give yourself away.

“Y’all talking about the little miss with the bun in her hair?” Spikes gruffly interjects. “Cause you just missed her.”

You almost puff out a sigh as relief washes over you like a tidal wave. Spikes has got free burgers and milkshakes coming his way for a month.

“Huh… thought she was here.” Chris stays quiet only for a second, probably questioning the efficacy of his eyesight, before speaking to Peter again. “Sorry about that, man. Still want that pie?”

Just like that, your heart kicks into high gear. Please don’t say yes. Please don’t say yes. Please don’t say yes.

Again, to your utter relief, Peter says, “No, thanks, I actually gotta get going. Mind if I borrow your pen and paper real fast?” You hold in a tense breath as Chris rips off a piece of pad paper and hands it to him. More pen scratches against paper, then Peter speaks up, “Can you make sure this reaches her?”

“Definitely. Have a good rest of your day, and come back anytime, dude.”

You don’t uncoil yourself from behind the bar until the door jingles again and a good five minutes pass. Your muscles and joints achingly cry out from the mistreatment as you warily stand to your full height, and Spikes and Garrick give you a confirmational thumbs-up when you smile at them gratefully.

Chris, spotting you out of the corner of his eye, swivels around and gapes, “Where’d you just come from?”

“The back.” Not entirely a lie.

Chris frowns, “But Spikes just said—”

“I was leaving,” you hurriedly cut in. “But I—I, um, I forgot to…” Your eyes rove around the diner and land on the couple you recently served. You hit your head with your palm in an oops manner and nervously chuckle, “I forgot to give those guys their check. So, I’m just… gonna go and… do that.”

You skirt around Chris’s inquisitively raised eyebrow and head over to the cash register to tabulate the couple’s bill. That was a way too close call. And by the way Chris is still staring at you, it looks as if you’re far from being out of the woods.

Once you hand the couple their check, rush to the back and clock out for the day, and come back out in the dining area to leave, Chris is waiting by the door, holding up the triangled piece of paper Peter left for you.

“Some guy named Peter came by to see you. You know him?” A flash in his eyes dares you to deny it, as if he caught onto your game.

You defiantly square your jaw. “I might. Did he leave that for me?”

“Maybe,” he shrugs, “Wanna tell me who he is?”

“No, I don’t think I will,” you winningly grin as you snatch the paper from his hand.

Chris wears the same winning smile. “Fine, don’t tell me. I’ll ask him when he comes back tomorrow.”

You blanch, “Wh-what—what makes you think he’s coming back tomorrow?”

“All my customers come back. Always,” he promises. Chris never seemed like the type to issue positive threats, but here he is, threatening you with that friendly smile lighting his jovial face.

The promising threat rings in your ears as you walk out the door and head to your apartment. Halfway there, you remember the crumpled piece of paper grasped in your balled-up fist. You move out of the flow of pedestrian traffic, lean against the brick façade of a mini-mart, and unfold the paper.

Peter’s straight-forward scrawl reads: Sorry I missed you. Be back earlier tomorrow :) – Peter P., and at the bottom of the note is a phone number with an arrow pointing to it, saying, My cell #.

A small, itty-bitty smile flits across your lips as your eyes linger on Peter’s smiley face, and for the briefest moment, you’re transported back to the roof, losing your breath all over again as he smiles that innocently beautiful smile.

Avoiding him is going to be tougher than you thought.

...

Part IV

#peter parker #peter parker au #peter parker x reader #peter parker x black!reader #spider-man x reader #spider-man x black!reader #soulmate au #marvel fanfic #peter parker fanfic #peter parker angst #post endgame #post infinity war #peter parker soulmate au #pre far from home #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker slow burn #slow burn #black!reader #how to trust a heart

56 notes · View notes

babyboyblasty · 4 years ago

Text

CHAPTER 10:

"You look nice, Deku" Uraraka smiled, her hands held behind her back as she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet in a childish manner, looking at her green haired friend. "Is there anyone in particular you're trying to impress?" she gave him a knowing look that Izuku stuttered and blushed to.

"No! O-of course not" he immediately denied and averted his eyes when that only seemed to make Uraraka's smirk widen. Izuku knew he was a terrible liar and Uraraka could be very scary sometimes. "But um, hypothetically speaking.. if I /were/ trying to impress someone- which I'm not- but hypothetically speaking do you think they'll.. you know. Be impressed? Hypothetically."

Uraraka looked her friend up and down. Izuku's fashion sense has definitely improved since the beginning of their first year. Both Tsuyu and herself had made sure to teach Deku and Todoroki a thing or two about dressing themselves since they were completely clueless sometimes. Midoriya was wearing brown, cuffed corduroy pants with a forest green oversized short sleeve button up, a lighter green long sleeve underneath that to create layers. The red shoes were never going away though and Uraraka gave up in trying to get him to wear another pair of shoes. He looked good and Uraraka noticed how his hair was a bit neater too so he obviously put a bit of extra effort into trying to style his curls. In fact, looking around the common room it seemed that Deku wasn't the only one who put a little extra effort into their appearance today. Half the boys there looked like they were going off to a party instead of a casual class outing. Even Iida looked like he was trying out a new hairstyle. No glasses either.

"Umm, Uraraka-san?" Izuku waved his hand in front of the girl's face to get her attention. She zoned out for a bit there and she blinked, turning to face him again.

"Oh, right! Well, /hypothetically speaking/ right?" she smiled and he nodded, "I think they'll be very impressed." Deku beamed and her eyes shifted to Todoroki who was just arriving downstairs. "Oh, look! There's Todoroki-kun. Let's go talk" she grabbed Deku's hand in hers and took him with her. He looked very good! Todoroki's aesthetic was more of a simplistic/classy style with neutral colors. This time he decided to switch it up and was wearing a white t-shirt with an unbuttoned, loose fitting pale blue and white striped dress shirt over that. He had black jeans and white sneakers too. He looked very good. "Oooo~ is there anyone /you're/ trying to impress, Todoroki-kun?" Ochako teased.

"Yes."

Ochako didn't expect such a direct answer but giggled anyway at her blunt friend. Deku on the other hand didn't find it as funny.

"Is Bakugou here yet?" Shoto changed the subject and looked around the common room but didn't spot the explosion quirk user anywhere. He felt a little disappointed.

"No, Kacchan isn't here. Neither is Kirishima-kun" Izuku really tried to keep the bitterness out of his tone. He knew that they were best friends but did they really have to be glued at the hip 24/7? Deku doesn't like the way he starts to feel when he thinks of those two together but he can't help it.

"Oh" Shoto mumbled. There was an awkward silence where no one said anything for a few seconds until Uraraka couldn't stand it and broke it.

"So how are you feeling, Todoroki-kun? Are you still tired or are you feeling a bit better from earlier?" Ochako questioned. That got Izuku's attention and he turned to Todoroki with a curious expression. Was he sick? Todoroki didn't mention anything to him today. He wondered why he didn't tell him.

"I feel better, thank you. I'm excited to be going out with my friends" he smiled briefly and Izuku returned it. After that things started to go back to normal as they talked about what stores they wanted to go to and if they had anything in particular they wanted to buy. The common room was filled with brief conversation before the 'ding' of the elevator was heard and everyone turned to look at a nervous Kirishima standing on the far opposite side of a bored looking Bakugou. Izuku felt a knot form in his throat and Todoroki felt his heart skip a beat, their faces heating up a little at what girl Kacchan was wearing. He looked good. Hell, even if he was in his normal body and wore that he'd look good.

"You're here!" Mina rushed forward to hug her two friends in a crushing hug which Kirishima gladly returned. The girls may or may not be feeling smug at how everyone reacted to seeing Bakugou. Yeah, they did that.

"I said I would go with you extras, didn't I? Now let go, pinky" Bakugou groaned. She smiled wide before stepping back.

"This'll be so much fun!" Mina jumped up and down.

"Everyone please form a single file line for attendance! As class president I must make sure everyone is accounted for before we vacate school grounds" Iida made sure to grab everyone's attention by speaking loud and clear as well as waving his arms about. Where he pulled the clipboard from no one knows but Iida started to check off names in the class roster to submit to Aizawa sensei once they come back in a few hours. "Alright. Everyone is here. We can go now" he nodded in confirmation.

The class had to take the bus to go to the mall so Iida stayed by the door until everyone was inside before going in himself. Bakugou was planning to sit with Kirishima but the redhead as soon as he was in the bus went and sat beside Sero instead. Katsuki was confused since they always sit together and even Sero was looking between the pair in confusion. "You don't mind, right Bakubro?" Kirishima awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. Bakugou just shrugged and moved on to find an empty seat to which Kirishima let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding.

"What was that?" Sero questioned once Bakugou was out of earshot.

"What was what?" Kirishima turned to him.

"That. You always sit with Bakugou so why all of a sudden did you decide to sit next to me? I don't mind but I was a little caught off guard, man. You know, you've been acting weird ever since the night we played games in my room. Is everything cool?" Sero had an idea of what was happening but he wanted to hear it from Kiri himself.

"Yeah, everything's good. I just need to sort some things out for myself first" he explained and Sero nodded, leaving it at that. Kirishima appreciated that about Sero. He knew if it was Mina or Kaminari they wouldn't stop pestering him about it. Kirishima just wanted some time to hopefully figure out why he was all of a sudden feeling so weird around Katsuki.

On the other end of the bus, towards the back, Bakugou found an empty seat. Everyone else seemed to be already sitting with someone else but he didn't really mind it. Once seated, Bakugou put his elbow up on the edge of the window and looked outside. He felt someone slightly tap his shoulder though and looked up to a shy Koda. 'May I sit here?' he signed and Bakugou raised an eyebrow. He rolled his eyes and signed back 'go for it' and Koda smiled a little, quickly sitting down beside Bakugou. Aizawa did mention that because of his quirk, he may experience hearing loss in the future if he didn't take the proper precautions so Bakugou has been taking JSL classes from Koda since the beginning of their second year and developed a somewhat mutual understanding with the guy. He really wasn't all that bad, just a little quiet. And while they weren't friends friends, Bakugou knew that if he ever needed a quiet place to study or just hang out for a bit without talking, he could go to Koda's room. The same went for Bakugou. If Koda ever wanted to spar or wanted pointers to help in improving his fighting skills, Bakugou is available.

Now that everyone had a seat, the bus began to move. The ride was going to take approximately fifteen to twenty minutes so he just wanted to use the break to relax. Bakugou could tell Koda wanted to say something based on the way he would look at him every few minutes but then look away though. "What is it?" he finally asked a little less than halfway into the trip and Koda shook his head. "I know you want to say something, now what is it?"

Koda looked hesitant at first but then signed 'how are you feeling?' with a sincere look. Maybe if it was someone else Bakugou would have told them off for getting into his business but Koda was someone who earned his respect and admiration throughout their time together in UA and who he saw as an equal.

"Why do you ask?" he asked instead, a bit defensive, and Koda responded by signing 'this is a big change and I was just wondering how you were doing.' Bakugou shrugged. "It isn't something I can't handle. Besides, today is the last day of the quirk so I should be back to normal by tomorrow morning" Bakugou mumbled, adding in a "thanks" as an afterthought. Honestly speaking, Koda has been the only one who's asked him how he felt about this whole quirk situation. The rest of his classmates all just seemed to be having fun with it and while he didn't mind, it was nice to be asked.

'You're always welcome to come hang out with me and my bunny if you ever need quiet time,' Koda offered. 'He told me he misses the angry blonde boy with the warm hands" he joked. Bakugou smirked a little with a "tch, sure whatever. Tell 'im I miss the furball too" leaving his lips. After that Bakugou and Koda fell into a comfortable silence where Bakugou closed his eyes to rest for the few minutes they had left on the bus ride.

Everyone else in class 3-A never thought they'd see the day where they all wished they were in Koda's place. The anivoice boy was sitting perfectly still so as to not wake the pretty blonde that had leaned his head on the other's shoulder sometime along the trip and was now sleeping peacefully on him.

[word count: 1775]

( this fan art isn't in correlation with the story chapter but oH MY GOD LOOK HOW PRETTY GIRL BAKUGOU IS- 😩)

#bakubowl #fanfic #boku no hero academia #bakugou x everyone #bnha #gender bender #temporary fem!bakugou #fem!bakugou #bakugou centric #BAKUBOOBS!?!

24 notes · View notes

sadpotatoondrugs · 4 years ago

Text

Time For a Change [Ch.2]

<< -- First

<< Prev | Next >>

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

Ever since receiving the letter from École des Beaux-Arts, the life in the Dupain-Cheng household has been pretty hectic.

Sabine and Tom, although believing in their daughter’s great talent, began taking on more difficult orders in case the scholarship wouldn’t be granted. They wanted the best for their daughter, and were determined to do anything to make that girl’s smile permanent. The tuition wasn’t the lowest, but they could manage to pay for it. Granted, they might not be able to go on a vacation when summer strikes as they normally would, but that was the price they were willing to pay to ease the troubles their daughter had been having in the past couple of months.

Marinette, on the other hand, had been locked in her room for the majority of her days. Going outside was either because of school, or because her other persona was needed in the streets of Paris. Occasionally, she also helped out in the bakery, noticing her parents’ obvious effort in making more money for the tuition. But she was still focused on her studies the most.

Her classmates noticed the sudden change in the ravenette’s mood. Going from the straight-faced ‘I don’t care’ attitude to one reminding them of the old Marinette. Of the Marinette that wasn’t a bully. Of their Everyday Ladybug.

At first, they were hopeful that she finally came to her senses. That she finally chose to drop the jealousy and realized that Lila is actually not as bad as she thought. They even approached the girl with hopeful smiles on their faces, acting as if there were never any problems between them. Their faces fell right after the smile on Marinette’s face turned into a disgusted gesture and she asked them harshly what they wanted.

After a bit of a fight happening, they returned to their seats. They were curious as to why their class’ newest bully appeared so happy all of a sudden, but shrugged it off. They shouldn’t care about her, she didn’t deserve their attention. Not until she changed her attitude.

For Marinette, nothing has changed in school. There were still the occasional attempts to trip her as she minded her business in school, the occasional fights, and so on, so on. As the days continued, though, she became more and more excited to be out of the school. She was almost finished with the essay and she was satisfied with her portfolio.

Now, only to retrieve the school documents.

Sabine made her way through the empty school as quickly as possible, choosing to evade any encounter with her daughter’s soon to be ex-classmates. She swiftly made her way towards the headmaster’s office and entered after hearing a brief ‘come in’.

“Ah! Good afternoon, Madame Cheng. How may I help you?” Mister Damocles seemed surprised to see her, she noticed.

“Good afternoon, Monsieur Damocles. I apologize for not calling the school first, but this is a matter I hope will be handled quickly.” She started politely, although she wanted to scream at the corrupted headmaster for everything that he let happen to her daughter. But she knew better. “I came here to retrieve my daughter’s files. All of them. And hand in the documentation about my daughter’s transfer, as she will no longer be attending this school.” The headmaster’s face immediately switched to a shock. Clearing his throat, he calmly asked why her daughter doesn’t want to attend the school anymore. Sabine smiled sweetly.

“Well, there are many reasons. The school she will attend is giving my daughter more opportunities to pursue her future career than your school ever did. The programs they offer are simply perfect for our daughter. And of course, they really prioritize their students, their privacy, and most importantly, their security. Which is something I recall your school is greatly lacking, seeing as you expelled my daughter without even checking the security cameras or neglected how my daughter has been bullied for the majority of her school days here. So, the real question is for me; why didn’t I let my daughter transfer out of this school earlier?” The headmaster was flabbergasted, staring at the parent with a bit of sweat pouring down his forehead as he realized the truth behind the woman’s words.

“So, the documents, please?”

“Of- Of course. Erm” Begrudgingly, the headmaster reached into the appropriate cupboard where the students’ folders were kept and, after a little bit of searching, pulled out a slightly full folder labeled “Dupain-Cheng” and gave it to Sabine.

“Thank you, Monsieur Damocles, and goodbye.” Hearing the door close and the sound of footsteps slowly retreating, he sighed out and turned to do the appropriate paperwork. The teacher would be notified after the classes are over.

Sabine made her way outside just as the school bell rang. Sighing in relief, she swiftly went towards the bakery, missing the curious stares of a few students coming out of the school.

The documents, along with the essay and the portfolio, were sent the exact same day they were retrieved. The family waited patiently for a response, with Marinette finally taking a breather and only helping out in the bakery to relax. She didn’t worry about school anymore ever since her mom retrieved her folder from them.

Honestly, when she saw her mom with her folders in her hands, she felt immediate relief. She had no idea how much she dreaded coming to Francois Dupont until she felt the happiness from leaving. The documents were a sign. A sign that it was finally over. A sign that she was about to start anew.

A sign she was more than happy for.

She wondered, was there any other solution to this problem? Was there any other way she could’ve handled this ‘Lie-la situation’?

She would never know. But if this solution was the one to bring her a normal life again, she was more than happy to take it.

“Marinette? There’s a customer in the bakery.”

“On it, maman!” Putting her apron away, she entered the bakery to come face to face with a blonde woman. She smiled politely. “Good afternoon, Madame. How may I help you?” The woman smiled in response, offering her a hand to shake.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, correct?” Marinette nodded and took her hand, “I’m Elaina Callier, one of the guidance counselor of École des Beaux-Arts. I will be the one to interview you.” Marinette looked shocked. She didn’t expect the sudden appearance. She wasn’t prepared! She was covered in flour and her hair was a mess, she was sure she had a fork stuck somewhere in her hair- it was a terrible first impression.

“I- Em- Oh! Em- I am so, so sorry. I didn’t know you were supposed to arrive today! I must’ve not gotten the email or perhaps, it must’ve fallen into spam…”

“Do not worry, Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng. My arrival wasn’t announced to you. In fact, I am not here to interview you yet.” Marinette stopped her mumbling, turning to face the woman with a confused expression.

“Oh… You’re not?” The woman chuckled.

“I’m sorry if I caused your panic. I was going to contact you and arrange the date, time and place of the interview. But I planned to come to your bakery anyway.” Said girl smiled and waved it off.

“Oh- I understand.” The two then talked about an appropriate date and settled with meeting two days later in a small café close to the school she was hoping to attend. After giving the woman what she wanted, which was precisely twenty rolls and four croissants covered in chocolate.

When Marinette told her parents, they were confused as to why was the meeting place not the school, which Marinette realized is a good question.

The days leading up to the day were excruciatingly slow but when the day came, Marinette couldn’t be more excited. And more nervous.

She wasn’t sure which was dominating.

She passed by the café a few times when helping her parents deliver something, but never actually went inside. It was a small but cozy café with only about ten tables inside. She was pleasantly surprised to see that it was a cat-themed café, meaning that there were numerous cats and kittens inside available for the customers to pet and cuddle with. The overall design of the café was warm, intended to be as if you were in a modern cottage.

She spotted the blonde woman already inside with a cup of coffee in her hand and a small kitten on her lap. She made sure she looked presentable and made her way towards the woman. She looked up upon hearing the chair in front of her screech and smiled kindly at the young girl. They greeted each other and began discussing the school as soon as the waiter took Marinette’s order.

“First things first, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable here. I don’t want this to feel like an interrogation. It is far from it. This is only a formality that needs to be done. Consider this more of a… Friendly talk rather than a professional meeting, please. We are both equal here.” The woman seemed to be really kind and talkative. Marinette could sense a calming aura around her, which instantly made her feel relaxed.

“Now, Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng, we don’t often get any request to transfer in the middle of the school year, what made you switch schools and join us?” The waiter brought back Marinette’s order, hot chocolate with marshmallow and cinnamon. She thanked him before responding.

“Well… There were some problems with my old school that made us consider transferring. Then I stumbled upon your school and once I read more about it, I found out it’s actually better than my old school. It would help me actually improve my skill in designing and sewing. With the courses provided, I would be able to focus on my future career.” The woman perked at the mention of her hobby.

“So you are passionate in fashion. How far would you say you are, skill based?” The girl nodded

“I’ve been designing ever since I was young, at first it was just for fun, then I thought ‘why not try and make it’ and two days later, I was hanging around the bakery in my newly made dress.” The girl laughed, reminiscing the memory “Let’s just say I misunderstood the laughing of the customers as a form of a compliment. I worked hard to get better at designing as well as sewing and right now, I can say I am proud of how far I’ve come.” The woman smiled at the girl, taking sip of her own beverage before tapping away on her phone before sliding it over to Marinette.

“You know, I thought I heard your name somewhere before…” Taking a glance at the phone, Marinette slightly blushed as it revealed an article about Jagged Stone. Specifically, an article about the girl who designed Jagged Stone’s glasses, album covers and (as jagged himself revealed) even his clothing. “That was you, right?”

This is not bragging. You are not acting like Lila. This is a fact. This is your own, true, accomplishment. “Yes, that was me. After designing the glasses, Jagged Stone actually kept in contact with me and would occasionally commission me for some work. At first, it was just for a few ideas on his Albums, until it escalated and he asked me to make him a suit for a gala he was to attend. He’s been sending me commissions ever since.” The woman didn’t hide her awe. She was impressed by the girl’s accomplishments at such young age and wasn’t ashamed of letting it show.

“That’s really impressive. Do you work with any other celebrity like you do with Jagged?”

“Well, I do know a few, though I am not as close with any of them as I am with Jagged. I’ve worked with Clara Nightingale in the past, as well as Gabriel Agreste. Though, I cannot really count that as ‘Work with’, but I did win a contest of his and my work has been displayed in one of his fashion shows.”

“You have a lot of accomplishments for somebody so young. From what I’ve seen on the internet, you have an impressive amount of talent, Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng. Our school would be honored to call you our student.”

That was it.

Marinette felt like she could die right then and there.

From happiness, of course. And perhaps shock or even relief. In that moment, all the anxiety she felt in the past couple of months, weeks, hours, just vanished. Or perhaps, her mind just pushed it aside for a little while. She didn’t care at the moment. She was just glad.

“But before we move on, there is something we must discuss.”

And just like that, it was back. Madame Callier put on a serious face as she pulled out a file from her bag. Marinette nodded when the woman looked up, indicating to keep going. “Your grades are flawless, you were really one of the top students at your previous school. And while your attendance is tainted with a lot of late, it is nothing to hold against you, seeing as it did improve in the last couple of months. But,” She slid the file over to Marinette, turning it upside down so that the girl could actually read it’s content. As soon as Marinette’s eyes read the first couple of words, she felt the anxiety in the back of her mind amplifying.

There, on her school report, was the incident from the previous year.

There had been numerous reports regarding Marinette Dupain Cheng and her fellow classmate, Lila Rossi. Marinette had been presumably bullying said classmate ever since the girl transferred from her home country. Various other classmates of theirs reported various acts throughout the year, worrying about the sudden change in Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng’s behavior. They confirmed that Lila often opened up to them about how Marinette had been treating her and demanded something to be done. It was until the second semester of the year did Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng step up her shameful acts.

On March 20, Lila Rossi was seen at the bottom of the staircase, with Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng standing right at the top. Mademoiselle Rossi had been hurt in the process and her knee had to be taken care of by the school nurse. After calling Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng’s parents, Mademoiselle Rossi finally informed us about the situation that had been going on. Marinette had been verbally assaulting Mademoiselle Rossi repeatedly, until it slowly evolved into physical harassment.

Mademoiselle Rossi also stated that Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng stole a family heirloom, which was later confirmed when it fell out of Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng’s locker.

Such behavior couldn’t be overlooked and Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng was immediately expelled from the school.

She didn’t understand. How could this still be in her report? The whole thing had been exposed as nothing but Lila’s lie because of her supposed ‘Lying disorder’. Why was it still there? Was Lila going to actually follow her life everywhere she went? Was she going to actually lose her only chance at getting into the school because of Lila’s lies?

No, she couldn’t let it. She couldn’t let her.

She sighed and looked the woman in the eyes. She saw her eyes widen slightly before softening. And she could guess why. She could feel the tears in the corners of her eyes, but she did everything she could to push every ounce of sadness and fear back.

“I’m sorry. That- Everything in that report is a lie.” And so, she explained everything. She explained her whole situation in school- leaving out any unnecessary details, of course. She couldn’t let Lila win and let her ruin her chance.

She took notice of every change on Madame Callier’s face. Sympathy, anger, confusion. Those were the most prominent ones. Halfway through explaining, a small black kitty with a white dot in the middle of it’s forehead jumped onto her lap and purred. She had no idea whether it just randomly wanted to be petted or if it felt the girl’s sadness and came to her comfort.

Either way, she appreciated the little kitty and knew that if she were to come back, this kitty would surely be her favorite.

By the end of her little biography, both her and Madame Callier’s cups were empty and the kittens in their laps sound asleep.

“We will have to check this with your previous school, as well as your guardians before we remove that report from your card, but you don’t need to worry about it permanently being on there.” She assured with a small smile. “We had our doubts about the report when we first read it. There are too many holes in the story, as well as the lack of evidence. We will consult this with your previous school and further investigation will be done. If the school neglected something, we will contact the school board to investigate the whole school.”

“Thank you… You have no idea how much relief hearing this brings me…” The woman smiled and nodded slightly.

“We do not tolerate bullying of any sort at our school, which is why we were concerned about the report in the first place. I apologize for doubting you, but it is easy to put a mask on nowadays. We knew you mentioned bullying as one of the reasons you wanted to leave your school, but I had no idea how serious it was. I apologize for that. Rest assure that you won’t find such behavior at our school.” A tear escaped Marinette’s eye, which she quickly wiped away.

“Thank you, Madame Callier.”

“No need to thank me, dear.” Marinette smiled at the drop of formalities. After the heartfelt discussion, it finally felt more as a friendly talk than an interview. “We will still need to check the story with your guardians and your previous school. Not that I do not trust you, but we must follow standard procedures.” She put away the file before making some notes on her phone. The kitty in Marinette’s lap suddenly jerked up, stretching and moving to a more comfortable position.

“Why did we meet up in this café, anyway?” She mumbled, eyeing the kitty closely “I mean… Aren’t interviews usually taken care of on school grounds? In an office?” Madame Callier looked up from her phone.

“It is quite simple. Unauthorized people are not allowed on campus. We do not allow random people to walk onto the school grounds due to security reasons. We upgraded our security even more when Hawkmoth began terrorizing the city. And even without Hawkmoth, there are many dangerous people out there. You even mentioned one yourself just a moment ago. We intend to keep such people out of our school for the safety of our students. You and your parents will get permission to enter once you are a student of ours.”

Marinette nodded and Madame Callier went back to taking notes for a while, before switching her focus back to the girl. The two conversed for a few more minutes before they parted ways. As she was walking home, Marinette couldn’t help but feel as if a heavy burden had been lifted off of her shoulders.

She didn’t know whether it was because she was actually accepted, because she would no longer be in that toxic environment, because she would no longer have to worry about her own safety..

Or perhaps, because she finally opened up, and she had a place where Lila’s lies wouldn’t reach her.

After all this time.

She finally felt free.

[masterlist]

#time for a change #Marinette #marinette dupain cheng #MLB #fanfic #mlb fanfic #ml salt #salt #felinette #felix culpa #felix graham de vanily #Felix #ml class salt #lila salt #marinette deserves better

255 notes · View notes