#but idk it definitely feels like it's heading in a very grim direction

[wereh0gz]

Actually before season 1b or season 2 whatever we're calling it comes out I wanna talk abt how I hope prime ends

Bc I feel like the show is leading up to Sonic having to choose between his original world or the shatterverse and if he saves the original then the other shatterspaces will disappear. And that's fucking sad. I don't want characters like Nine or Rusty to disappear without getting the chance to live full, happy lives. But I also don't want Sonic to lose his original friends and family forever while trying to save the others

So I propose a secret third option. That being Sonic's original world being fixed, while the other shatterspaces sort of converge and exist WITHIN the paradox prism

Ok let me explain that a bit better SO Sonic puts the prism back together like he and Shads are planning to. That fixes Sonic's world and everything is back to normal on Sonic's end. BUT on everyone else's end the shatterspaces sort of come together, either by physically becoming one world or bridges forming between each one or something so now they have access to each other

And now the paradox prism in Sonic's world can be used to access the shatterverse, ig by touching it or maybe channeling its energy somehow with machines or something. And it's kept safe somewhere secret so a certain egghead can't cause trouble there anymore. Bc the shatterspaces now exist inside of the prism

No I'm not coping with the hard decision Sonic is gonna be forced to make at the end of this series and the inevitable loss that comes with it idk what you're talking abt (<- lying, coping)

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 29

First time reader click here

Feels like this story is flopping. Is it flopping? Idk. This chapter is 100% plot and it is spooky. Cursed demon box. Helpful Stephen Strange and grumpy Wong. Hovering Bruce and Tony. Loki being a honorary Gen-Z. Found family but make it ✨superheroes✨.

"That's a lot to unpack," Peter stated once I had given him the bare bones report of the situation at hand. "Uh, are you okay?" The boy was obviously upset at my predicament, placing a supportive hand on my shoulder.

"Kinda?" I offered, making space for Wanda and Pietro who decided to join me and Peter, away from the arguing adults. The mission discussion - an absolute disaster - started as soon as Peter had walked in. Evidently experienced in such matters, the boy ignored the bickering and came over to steal me from Bruce's clutches to peacefully finish his egg sandwich in the company of his peers.

"I wanted to ask if I could see your memory of that time," Wanda meekly offered me a piece of candy. I accepted it - sugar sweet sugar, how I love thee so! The witch continued with a smile: "I think it would be helpful to see what we're dealing with, magic-wise."

"Sure," I trusted her. "Just don't scramble what's left of my sanity, please," All of us laughed at my remark as I laid down on the cold floor with my head in Wanda's lap. Her powers felt like small brain zaps, tingles that began at the front of my forehead and ran down into my spine. I followed her instructions and thought about the times I remembered, finding the box, placing it into my closet, the nightmares. I had a mild headache by the time she was done; no grudges against her - Wanda tactfully avoided my private moments and looked only at the ones containing the artifact.

"You've gotten really good," I complimented her with pure adoration.

"Thank you," She blushed, smoothing back my stray hairs. "That stuff is really strong. I don't think you should go near the box," She admitted. "And Doc should take a look at you. You have a residue left. I don't think that's good either."

"Well, fuck," I said in muted resignation.

"Press F to pay respects," Pietro joked in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

"Your luck is almost as bad as mine," Peter pointed out.

I scoffed. "Well, if I see any spiders around, I'll be sure to stay away in case they happen to be radioactive OsCorp runaways."

All of us laughed. Despite the grim situation, I didn't feel doomed. I was surrounded by friends and my boyfriends and my bestie who happened to be a mythical omnipotent god- welp, once again, I was getting too emotional. Once the adults were done arguing, we could start making sense of this mess and hopefully clean it up before the monster is out of the box.

"Mortals," I heard Loki scoff. The next moment, the Asgardian sat down noisily next to me, pout on full display. "This house is a nightmare."

His expression - or the accidental use of a meme - sent me completely, tension leaving my body via copious amounts of nearly hysterical laughter. Through tears and hiccups, I saw Wanda cackle with me and Peter show the meme in question to Loki, noting that he had been once sent to time-out on top of the fridge by Tony himself. Soon, all of us were laughing, much to the displeasure of the adults.

"Children, what is the issue?" Thor asked, irritated.

"We're just waiting for you to be done with arguing," I spoke before Loki could start bitching about Thor calling him a child. "Then I can show Steve and Loki where exactly have I buried the box so Stephen can take me to the healers and get this thing out of me or whatever," I pointed out the most logical plan of action.

Two long strides and the sorcerer was standing over me, boom-boom-whooshing and generally making very pretty golden patterns to appear and land on top of me. Tony and Bruce anxiously hovered behind him, both of my boys concerned and ready to mother-hen me. Ugh, so disgustingly adorable. Wanda's hand encompassed mine - she was nervous.

Stephen took a solid five-minute silence break before coming to a final conclusion. "Wong can get rid of the residual traces of the artifact's influence," The sorcerer announced curtly. "It's good you got rid of the artifact, a few more months and you would have started slipping into insanity if the magic within it was not released," He explained, slowly reaching out a hand to place it on top of my head. I wasn't sure if it was a gesture meant to bring comfort or another diagnostic test but leaned into the touch nonetheless. "Tell me, did you have any behavioral... Disturbances after...?" He trailed off.

I chewed on my lip, evaluating. "I honestly don't know. I've always been kind of an asshole," Honesty was the best policy. "Nothing seems out of order, sleepwalking aside."

"I see," Strange gave me a tight-lipped smile. "Perhaps, it was your stubborn nature that forbade the artifact from corrupting your mind completely. As evidenced by Captain Rogers, even undesirable character traits bring good into this world now and then."

That seemed a little bit hostile. I frowned, giving a questioning look to a frowning Loki.

"Speaking from experience?" Not the one to hold back upon witnessing first-grade bullshit, I withdrew from Stephen's touch, raising a sarcastic eyebrow.

Surprising everyone, the man laughed soundly, eyes crinkling at the corners. "I most certainly do," Shooting me a positively mischievous wink. I felt like I was missing something.

The room's inhabitants slowly ticked out in pairs and threes, eager to complete their assigned tasks. Loki had insisted on coming along to the sanctum with me, even almost getting up in Stephen's face, but Bruce - out of all people - managed to calm the Asgardian down, and together we convinced him his magic would be considerably more useful during the retrieval of the cursed box. Loki was worried - everyone with a pair of functional eyes could see that the spiky attitude was his way of showing he cared about me, which made my insides briefly turn to mush. I didn't expect him to take the title of my best friend so seriously and I definitely was not complaining.

Tony was the last to leave, jittery and shaky, clutching me like it was his last time seeing me, kissing me hungrily in front of everyone. The joke or two he made were weak ghosts of his usual sharp snark.

"I love you and I'll be back soon," I whispered into his ear, feeling him freeze and his fingertips dig almost painfully into my sides. Louder, I repeated: "Not planning on dying any time soon, y'all gotta chill. Let's go, doc?" I addressed the tall sorcerer who was tactfully pretending to be busy with his smartphone.

Wanda pressed a duffle bag into my hands mouthing "clean clothes" a split second before Stephen opened a portal and with a great deal of curiosity, I stepped through it, eyes immediately drawn to the dimly lit space filled with books and antiques. So many books, so many unusual trinkets. The chandelier that hung over our heads rivaled the ones I'd seen in million-dollar-homes of dad's friends.

"Follow me," Stephen extended an arm in the direction of a smaller door, "Please do not touch anything."

I walked a pace behind him, satisfying my curiosity by looking around like a child in a candy store. The air smelled different in the Sanctum, almost as familiar as Loki's magic but less frosty... Warmer. A dash of red fabric swished from somewhere towards me; I giggled. The Cloak of Levitation liked me - not nearly as much as it liked Peter though - so I brushed my fingertips along the fabric, greeting it quietly. Talking loudly in this building was out of the question. I felt like any moment, a disgruntled librarian would appear to chastise me for making noise.

"Strange," A short Asian man appeared, book in hand and looking none too happy. Guess that's the librarian... "I got your text. The room next to yours is prepared for the ritual," The man I assumed to be Wong gave me a curt nod in the way of greeting, doing a quick 180° and walking us back to a small but tastefully decorated room with a single cot in the middle. It was pleasantly warm, a small fire lit in the fireplace, willowy smoke of incense rising from a few strategically placed sticks.

"The bathroom is that way. I'm afraid you'll have to be fully nude for the procedure," Strange declared apologetically, pointing to a door hidden behind the divide.

I snorted, but of course, the weird voodoo shit would require me to be naked. Not that I was embarrassed or anything but still. Tony would have a field day. Locating a chair, I dumped my duffle bag on it, flying out of my hoodie and sweatpants in record time. My underwear and socks followed, feet unpleasantly chilly despite the carpeted floor. I ran a hand over the faint bruises on my hips, evidence of last night, fondly - either Tony or Stephen had left marks on my body and that was... It was great. I loved it, drugs or not.

I heard someone clear their throat and turned around, nearly cracking up at the way both men suddenly averted their gazes, blush riding high on their cheeks. I snorted: "I'm hot, what else is new?"

Wong shook his head, busying himself with some sort of a book; Stephen lingered, eyes fixated on the very same bruises. His tongue darted out, wetting the plush of his bottom lip, and damn, this wasn't the time to get horny. I shook my head and with that, the sorcerer caught himself too, mutely motioning me to lay down on the cot.

"Whenever you're done eye-fucking each other," Wong piped up sarcastically - wow, I liked this man already. Stephen grumbled something quiet and rude, provoking another snort from me.

I followed their instructions - shortly after the Asian man began reading - or rather singing - something in a language I didn't know, I felt myself fall into a deep sleep. Or, I thought I was falling asleep. At one point, my eyes opened to an empty room, a thin sheet covering my bare body, and a silence that made chills run down my spine.

"Stephen?" I called out. I sounded like I was underwater to my own ears. "Wong?"

I was met with silence so deafening, I had no choice but to sit up and look around. The fire was burning strong in the fireplace, several logs blackened from it as sparks flew. It took a second for me to realize it made no sound - there was no crackling. Something was very wrong, the dread was creeping up on me.

Very familiar dread.

With the sheet firmly wrapped around me, I hopped off the cot, suddenly noticing the drawings on my arms, my legs. I was covered in runes similar to the ones I had seen on the cursed box - and my memories weren't missing. As clear as day, I recalled messing around with the box, debating on opening it, taking it out of my room only to find it back on my desk in the morning, some serious Anabelle shit.

I jumped as the floorboards cracked somewhere in the house. Every logical thought I had, backed up by every horror movie I had ever watched, screamed at me to NOT go towards the creepy noise; like moth to a flame, I was drawn in and couldn't resist the unnatural urge to investigate it. On silent feet, I padded out of the room, desperately trying not to think about the lonely, dark hallways filled with strange ancient objects. My steps made no noise.

On the couch, in the main room we'd arrived, sitting lazily, was Tony. I'd recognize his hair anywhere - and the Led Zep tee, old, frayed edges and loose threads. "Tony?" I asked hopefully, trying to make sense of this...

He turned around.

It wasn't Tony. Whatever it was, it wore Tony's face, it held his brown eyes and crow's feet around them - it wasn't him. Wrong, like the lack of sound in this place, misplaced and unnatural. The doe browns didn't sparkle, lifeless, dull color of dried mud. As much as I wanted to go and bury my face in his chest, my limbs filled with lead, my whole body screaming "DANGER".

The impostor kept quiet which only solidified my suspicions. Real Tony would be running his mouth already, poking fun at my impression of a sheet ghost.

"Princess?" The... Thing asked in Tony's voice, but it fell flat and monotone.

"Whatever you are, you sure as Hell ain't Tony," I stated firmly, hoping for some answers. "What the fuck?"

Not-Tony's face changed, familiar features twisting into something sinister, the malice making me sick to my stomach. The creature stood up, causing my feet to take an involuntary step back as he advanced slowly.

"You have no choice but to submit," The Thing replied calmly. "You're not getting out of here. Not even your little Asgardian pet god can save you," Its tone was absolutely flat. I would have thought the thing was a robot if not for the obvious involvement of magic in this situation. Its words filled me with dread as thick as molten lava; unfortunately for the creature, unlocking my memories gave me enough rational balance to be acutely aware of it and therefore, able to fight it.

I could fight it. I didn't know how exactly, but I could resist it. "That's a really bold thing to say for something that... What even are you? Magical STD?" As my brain desperately focused on finding a solution to a problem I didn't know all the details of, my mouth had a mind of its own.

The creature growled, a far more primal noise than a human could make. "You don't know what you're up against, child. I am one for we are many," Suddenly, the room was filled with shadows as if someone had turned off all the lights and cranked up the moon to be the brightest it ever was. The shadows moved, oozed, motion sinister without any light to back it up.

I had no choice but to pucker up. Nobody was coming to rescue me; in fact, I always have taken pride in being a self-saving princess. Damsel in distress wasn't really my style. The hunch in my shoulders disappeared, giving way to a stubborn and stiff expectation of the upcoming altercation, hands bailed in fists.

"I mean, like Legion the demon from the Bible?" I recalled what little I knew from Wikipedia. "I mean, I'm agnostic myself, but if you feel like identifying with that, you should probably see a therapist."

The entity growled, shadows gathering around it like fabric on a string, and lunged. Paralyzed by sudden blinding, deafening fear, I turned tail and ran.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95

[thewebcomicsreview]

Homestuck 2 has updated! Christmas is ruined!

Previously, on Homestuck 2: Literally nothing happened, and a non-trivial portion of the patreon supporters gave up and quit. Can this update pull a Christmas miracle and right the sinking ship of Homestuck 2? Probably not, but let’s find out! 

We’re back in Candyland, having completely skipped over Karkat and John talking about Dave’s apparent death, because this comic is only interested in long conversations when they’re boring and not about anything at all. That’s alright, I got the gist of it.

When Karkat is finally gone, John still doesn’t move. It isn’t as though he has nowhere else to go, since there are quite a few places he might attempt to make himself useful, for better or for worse.

So, it appears to be morning now, meaning that John’s son has been missing in a war zone for almost 24 hours and I guess John literally forgot Harry existed?

Prediction: This conversation is going to end in some variant of “Where is our son?” “Oh shit!”

ROXY: hey john can u do me a quick solid

ROXY: actly idk how quick itll be but its definitely solid

ROXY: harry anderson says i just missed u being here but could u skip back on over?

What.

So, I went back and checked, and apparently nowhere is it explicitly said that Harry Anderson was also looking for the Vriskas, so I guess he....stayed home? Which makes sense, I suppose, but maybe a “Stay here I’ll go look for them” would’ve helped. I wasn’t the only one who thought Harry was out looking for Vriska too. 

ROXY: sup

ROXY: follow me

ROXY: well were just going to my room so i guess technically u know the way

JOHN: haha ok.

John follows, trying to shake the ominous feeling he got from what she’d just said. He’d been in and out of this house a lot in the past few days. Why should this be any different?

Is Roxy....horny? Is the solid she’s looking for John’s dick? I mean, that’d make her saying Harry wasn’t available kind of weird, but I think this framing is a fake-out.

...

What the fuck is that lamp, Jesus Christ it’s awful. Just a cat’s asshole, facing the door.

ROXY: r u kiddin me rn egbert

JOHN: i’m not? unless you were, in which case yeah lets say i was also kidding.

JOHN: oh my god, i’m sorry, i don’t know why this making me freak out.

ROXY: i remember our past boot knockin with fondness but that is a situation im not interested in revisiting

Oh hey, it was a fakeout. Good job, Homestuck 2. You successfully implied something just through the art. Art which, by the way, looks a lot better than the last chapter. There are backgrounds and everything. I wonder if Chapter 15 was rushed out due to Hiveswap and that’s why it was so weak?

He’s almost embarrassed by how relieved he feels. So what if his ex wife wanted to hook up? Shouldn’t that be a situation he could navigate? Don’t people like to find solace in human physical connection during dire times? Why did the idea of it make his mind white out in panic more than, say, any number of the traumas he just experienced?

I’m not the biggest fan of the way the narration is going JOHN IS AFRAID OF SEX WITH ROXY LIKE HE’S A TEENAGE VIRGIN AGAIN (LIKE IN HS1!) AND IT DOESN’T REALLY MAKE SENSE PLEASE REMEMBER THIS IT’LL BE IMPORTANT LATER, but okay, noted.

ROXY: u said ur house is gone??

JOHN: yep.

JOHN: completely.

ROXY: jeez

Heh. I like Roxy, still. 

JOHN: so i just sat there, watching, trying to figure out why watching my house burn down felt like i was being released from prison.

If this comic actually uses the phrase “home” and “stuck” in the same sentence I’m turning this blog around and we’ll go right back to Winnipeg.

ROXY: aight then no wind bending just use your mangrit

Roxy flexes, the corner of her mouth pulled up into a familiar grin. John feels his guts, so recently calmed, twist up into knots again. Her eyebrows shoot up and the smile loosens. He must have shown something on his face.

ROXY: ok or just like push when i push

ROXY: we both got sick muscles

ROXY: no other adjectives necessary

I feel unqualified to talk about how hard Roxy is pushing the June Egbert thing.

....Is that the fucking portal from Hiveswap under a tarp? Also hi Candy Callie, appearing in HS2 for the first time. One of the Calliope’s is nonbinary, I think, but I honestly can’t remember and I think it’s Meat Calliope? 

JOHN: do i get to know what that big thing under the sheet is?

ROXY: hmmmmmm no

JOHN: oh ok.

JOHN: are you sure? i mean, it seems like a pretty prominent feature of the room.

JOHN: space.

JOHN: wherever we are.

ROXY: and a totally mysterious n COMPLETELY inconspicuous feature it will have to remain for now

ROXY: we r kinda in a hurry here fyi

ROXY: and by that i mean

ROXY: we are in precisely the amount of hurry that means im excused from having to a that specific q rn

JOHN: right, sorry.

JOHN: i will pay no attention to the object behind the curtain.

ROXY: u catch on fast egbert

Oh thing HS2 has not been great at is that it has a lot of plot mysteries that are supposed to keep us enticed but they don’t really get implanted into the audience’s head (Remember Vrissy mysteriously collapsing that one time? Probably not, she did it off screen and the boys kind of laughed it off). This one’s hard to miss.

JOHN: so... this is all downstairs?

JOHN: it seems like you had a lot of work done.

ROXY: well no not x actly

ROXY: were in the old meteor

It’s kind of weird how this meteor keeps popping up like this. 

CALLIOPE: besides, hUman divorces are even more fascinating than i had ever imagined, and being able to witness yoUrs in motion was an honoUr.

This is an unexpected but not unwelcome direction for Callie to have gone.

CALLIOPE: ah right, right. yoU're probably a little cUrioUs as to where the dickens we are.

CALLIOPE: how much do yoU know aboUt black holes?

Oh, wow, we’re going right there, then. This does seem like a bit of a reaction to complaints HS2 wasn’t shmoovin’ enough, but maybe I’m reading too much into it.

CALLIOPE: no, i mean, what if oUr whole WORLD was inside a black hole.

JOHN: ok.

A’ight, that got a laugh out of me

JOHN: ugh, i fucking KNEW it!

JOHN: i'm so sorry.

JOHN: i'm so sorry that i put the earth inside a black hole everyone. ):

I like this conversation a lot. 

ROXY: iirc at least part of y u got so weepy was the fact that u couldnt believe a version of earth existed where ppl got 2 watch more mcconaughey films than you

JOHN: listen.

JOHN: i simply don't think you all appreciated the gift you were given.

Quite a bit, in fact.

ROXY: ur not gonna enter a weird time vortex and change the trajectory of a little girls life with the power of love

JOHN: aw.

Roxy and John have a good dynamic. 

CALLIOPE: bUt Upon her departUre, the rift closed for good. as far as i can see, there's simply no way for Us to commUnicate with the world oUtside the black hole.

CALLIOPE: i woUld certainly be very sUrprised to find oUt that anyone had managed sUch a thing!

JOHN: ...right.

John’s phone has very good coverage, since he was able to talk to Terezi in the epilogues, as we’re being subtly reminded of here with that ... before the “right”. I wonder if it still works after alt-Calliope left.

CALLIOPE: oUr exclUsion from the overarching coUrse of events which governs all reality means that oUr existence here is liable to dramatic and violent Upheaval.

CALLIOPE: to pUt it another way, becaUse nothing in here "matters", we are likely to be sUbjected to things which are a bit bats in the belfry, for no reason other than it's totally insignificant to the wider canon of reality.

CALLIOPE: and mUch thoUgh i am personally titillated by some of the conseqUences of this predicament, it is a degrading way for Us to live. u_u

Okay, so we are now being explicitly told that living in the black hole is fucking with the characters and is part of the reason they make such baffling decisions, like Rose not telling Kanaya about Yiffy, or naming her daughter “Yiffy” in the first place.

CALLIOPE: we need yoU to free vriska from the clUtches of oUr misgUided friend jane, and bring her here, to the singUlarity.

ROXY: weve been calling it the plot point

CALLIOPE: yes, the plot point is a key part of oUr plan

CALLIOPE: as far as we have been able to sUrmise, the only remaining method for escaping oUr grim confinement depends on leveraging the UniqUe properties of this location to create an event of sUch catalcysmic proportions that it simply cannot be contained within the black hole any more.

CALLIOPE: something SO dramatic, so hyper-relevant, that it becomes ontologically impossible for anyone to ignore it.

CALLIOPE: for that, we need an individUal of sUfficient narrative cloUt, so to speak.

CALLIOPE: and to liberate her, who better than the embodiment of the aspect of freedom itself?

So, the plan is literally for Vriska to be such a Huge 8itch that the black hole itself gets sick of her and yeets Earth C out of its own event horizon to freedom.

This is actually a great plan. 

And that’s Hamsteak. This definitely feels like a bit of a reaction to complaints about HS2, but hey, I dig it, I guess? Definite improvement over the last chapter.

[albatris]

rambles, here are some of them

not the rambles I mentioned the other day and might still post at some stage, these are some different rambles, these are just some wandering thoughts and me thinking aloud, all subject to change

there is some. interesting. ground to cover in terms of Marrick potentially working with the DII

it makes a lot more sense in terms of the plot, and clears up how he gains access to certain things, and how he gets some of the information he has, how his plans play out, etc...... and also makes his involvement with Avery and Noa and some of the other people who work/have worked in the sorta base levels of the DII make a lot more sense in terms of it not being “too convenient”

and I don’t think he works For Them, necessarily, maybe just In Cooperation With, maybe just someone who was off doing interesting work and making a bit of a name for himself, and the DII thought that certain avenues of his research could be beneficial to them so they were like “hey you’ve got some solid stuff going on here, we’d be happy to help you out with resources and support if you continue and work in conjunction with us” or something like that

which is good for them and good for Marrick, like, it’s in the DII’s best interests to stay in the loop with whatever new information is coming to light about the apocalypse and its various manifestations and Marrick’s niche area of interest is something they’re keen to see explored, and it’s in Marrick’s best interest ‘cause jumping on board with the DII means he’ll have access to a lot of money and resources and information he didn’t have access to before and he can do Bigger and Better and More Interesting stuff

and like. obviously there’s some screening involved like they’re not just gonna hand some random guy all this stuff and be like “go wild”, like......... I’d like to emphasise that Marrick starts being shifty as hell LONG after he’s initially brought on board, and he kinda? starts using some of these resources to do his own kinda dodgy secret work in addition to whatever else

and like! oh, as a general rule, Marrick is completely on board with Helping Everyone, but it’s more like................ y’know, his first and foremost priority is self-preservation. it’s a good look for him to be like “I want to find a way to help everyone!” when in reality it’s more like, he’s looking for a way to help himself, and by extension, his findings will help others. but he doesn’t care about that and when push comes to shove, and will absolutely throw everyone else under the bus if it means he can save himself

so yes he helps the DII out but he’s also gone kind of rogue and is doing a lot of other shifty stuff he doesn’t tell the DII about, stuff that’s a little more morally iffy

and I’d like to talk about the DII some, now, because like

in general

there’s a lot to be said about how the DII is also.......... not....... great? its end goal is......... fine. good, even. like, they are genuinely truly trying to solve problems caused by the apocalypse and find a way to mend things and help the world deal with its effects. I would say their goal is pretty decent. but like. they tend to pour resources into two things

the first being The Bigger Picture

in terms of, like, y’know......... the future! the grand scheme! Here’s What We’re Doing To Ensure Tomorrow Is Better! which is absolutely not a bad thing on its own but there’s so much focus on this big abstract concept of The Future and not, y’know, the very real horrors and struggles that people are going through right now. which is also something the DII exists to deal with. there’s an issue with the DII as a whole largely not caring about the people who are currently living their lives facing the brunt of the apocalypse head on, and there’s definitely......... like, this absolutely includes the field teams and branches of the DII that have to actually go out and deal with Ports and Port-related emergencies directly, these folks r largely viewed by the organisation as vaguely expendable, they’re a necessary sacrifice, some loss is unavoidable, blah blah blah, and most importantly there are always going to be broke desperate people around to fill the gaps

and there’s a HUGE difference in the amount of resources and attention and support given to field teams in, say, places that have less Ports, places that still have an image of being relatively stable and safe, where the DII wants to Keep It Safe And Stable At All Costs, vs. places that are collapsing at the seams and that the DII views as essentially a lost cause and not worth the cost or stress, but they still have to fill a certain quota so they just sorta toss people in there like Hey Good Luck

n on that note, the second thing is, like.......... just Maintaining An Image

which is a HUGE running theme throughout the entire story on an interpersonal level too and that's a whole other post, this idea of an image being projected vs the reality of the situation, and the damage caused by just..... not seeing, or not being seen, or refusing to see, or being deprived of the right to be seen

but in terms of the DII it's about maintaining some illusion of safety and control, trying to keep everyone calm and avoid panic, which again.... not necessarily bad? but they're more interested in projecting the image that they Have Things Under Control, so they pour resources into things that will lend themselves to that competent and stable image, rather than perhaps things that need it more

because, and this is key, the DII has NO FUCKING IDEA what they’re doing

they don’t know fucking SHIT. they are only slightly less in the dark than the rest of the population and they are terrified and they have no idea how to solve this mess, and they’re trying to, like............. figure out the source of the apocalypse, figure the best way to combat it, find out what the fuck Ports are....... and like, yeah that’s a lot of pressure! and they’re I guess kind of scrambling to deal with this while keeping everyone from freaking the fuck out and yeah I guess it is a lot

and in their eyes I guess they don’t have the Time or Resources to care about anything other than the bigger picture which is....................... hm. bad

BUT WAIT HOLD ON OK I GOT OFF TRACK

Marrick working in conjunction with the DII, that’s what this post was originally about, uhhhhhh

there’s some interesting and perhaps valuable ideas to explore in terms of like

do they intentionally turn a blind eye? do they know that Marrick is most likely hiding something from them or doing something a little less than morally upstanding, but are deliberately choosing not to look into it? or like. do they NOT know at all, and when they find out are they like “hey that’s bad and not what we roped you in here to do and we want no part of this”

‘cause with the latter, there’s a LOT to be explored then in terms of like

the DII’s willingness to sorta..... passively allow people to come into/wander into harm’s way for the quote unquote “greater good”, being viewed as “collateral” or “unavoidable tragic loss”.......... vs how quick they are to voice their aversion to and disgust with someone Actively Causing Harm to others for the quote unquote “greater good”

but then with the FORMER there’s also like.......... with the idea that they’re choosing not to look into something they highly suspect is shifty as fuck, there’s this infinitely more grim idea of like. maybe they’re down for this kind of thing in theory provided it’s done quietly because it’s a Necessary Sacrifice and a Small Price To Pay, but condemn this current situation purely because it turns big and loud and public and they know it will look bad if they don’t

which is something I’ll definitely need to brush upon as a theory regardless but might not exactly confirm one way or the other

anyway actually dudes I originally went to type this post intending to make a stupid joke because I was considering marrick working with the DII's resources and thought the mental image was fun if he was like........ 

giving his dumb melodramatic cartoon supervillain monologue and being like "oh you think the DII will help you?? they've been in on this all along" like some kind of gotcha, and then the DII being like "dude no??? this is what you've been doing???? this is not what you told us you were doing?? you're definitely going to prison???? what the fuck???" and marrick being just like "oh :("

which I think is fucking funny as a concept but only works as funny in a situation where the DII aren't just entirely as terrible. passively or actively or otherwise

so no that joke no longer stands lmao. ‘cause like. either way it goes with the DII the implications are bad, y'know, like, even if the DII is like "oh fuck that's bad we don't want any part of this" they still.... allowed it to happen? and there's again the question of moral obligation, of What And Who Are Expendable and whether actively causing harm is worse than passively allowing it to happen in your name

and typing this post up is like

hm

this is all. a lot

I feel like I'm not equipped to handle writing this kind of thing even though I think it's definitely the direction it needs to go, like

there's a lot of other intense things going on and I'm fine with the interpersonally intense and much kinda.... smaller level themes but this is kind of Saying Something with a bit of direction and force and idk if I'm a smart enough writer or if I have enough finesse to tackle it????? i feel like there's a lot of nuance involved and I'm gonna have to do a lot of work which is fair

there's just a lot happening and I'm a whole dumbass and it all needs A Lot Of Further Consideration

[tavi-hayes]

practice challenge ~ journey to the palace

((whoopwhoop, idk how i managed to write this (given it’s quite long and i usually never ever write stuff this long) also please excuse me again for any spelling/grammar errors i try. alsoooo thanks to these wonderful girls: Bethia @h-hart​, Kat @clara-choii​ and Pia @brookelynnsanders​!))

It was silent at work today. The only sounds were the flipping of pages and the ticking on keys of a computer, followed by a frustrated sigh occasionally.

“Maybe we should get some more flutes?” I said, “they’re not that expensive and they won’t take up a lot of space here.”

Lola, being distracted by her laptop, showed no sign that she had heard what I just said.

“Helllooo, Lo are you there?”

“Huh, what?” she ran her hands through her hair as she looked my way.

I lifted the catalogue to show her the flute page.

“No Tavi,” Lo leaned her head on the back of the chair, doing the accounts must have tired her. “We already have flutes, and no one is ever interested in them. They have been here for decades.”

I rolled my eyes, “maybe that is why no one is interested. They look grim.”

Lo refocused on her laptop, and I flipped another page of the catalogue.

Oeh, the bass guitars. My favourite part.

I ran my finger over the page, paying a lot of attention to each one.

There were electronic bass guitars, but also the semi-acoustic ones. Some were very modern-looking with the brightest of colours, while others go for more of a vintage look.

I don’t know if I would ever be able to part with my own baby. The bass guitar, that I now owned, had been eyeing me every day since it had arrived in the store. It had been love at first sight.

But it was such a big investment and I just didn’t have that kind of money.

A part of my earnings was needed for us to make a living, pay the rent and do the groceries for example. And the other part that wasn’t needed for that, entered our savings jar.

We had been saving money since the day my dad was put behind bars. For whatever reason those bars had been in St. George. Freaking St. George.

The province didn’t even have direct borders with Denbeigh, Ottaro was right in between.

That made a simple, but still long, car ride impossible. Not taken the problems that come with the snowy climate into account.

That same climate also caused issues for our only transportation option.

Denbeigh’s climate was hard to predict at times. It could be a beautiful day with sunshine and a clear sky, but then you wake up the next morning to a thick layer of snow.

And because those snowfalls could happen in at least 8 out of 12 months, a lot of planes got cancelled in those months. The only airport anywhere near Winnipeg was privately owned. So the owners could literally ask the prices they wanted for the plane tickets. And boy, they were only focussed on making a profit.

For a simple family of Fives, those prices were unpayable. Hence why we had been saving money for 6 years now, still nowhere near able to pay for tickets. My mom would need a ticket, Daniel and I would too, and we just can’t leave little Aria and Arlan. My dad should be allowed to see them as well. That’s means we already need the money for 5 tickets. But if we include Daniel’s family, with his wife and little Melody, then that would equal 7 tickets.

So yeah, I would never have been able to buy that bass guitar.

Until Lo had a brilliant idea. They would give it to me as my birthday present for the upcoming 10 years. At first, I couldn’t accept that kind of gift, knowing it would have been a huge investment for the Wood family as well. But they insisted, hinting that they would get an employee discount anyway since you know Mr Wood owns the place. So, the price dropped, and they ignored me, so I had to give in and accept. It was the best gift I had ever gotten.

The stores door busted open, “GIRLS!” Gina’s voice took me back to earth. “they’re about to do the draw!”

“What draw?” apparently Lo shared my confusion.

Gina rolled her eyes and grabbed Lo’s laptop from the table. “Wait, I was working! Save it, save it!”

The laptop was put right on top of the catalogue I had just been looking through. Lo ushered over as well.

“Let me just,” Gina had opened an internet page and started typing in the website address of Winnipeg’s number one news channel, WTV. Such an original name.

The news anchor, some middle-aged woman with very fake looking blond hair, appeared on screen. “What is she wearing?” Lo asked, disgust and confusion both showing on her face.

“A track suit, it’s part of her image,” Gina unmuted the laptop, the crow-like voice of the woman filling the room, “now shush, I wanna hear this.”

“… Cameron Porter has been selected for the Illéan national ice hockey team. The star of Winnipeg’s very own ice hockey team, the Winnipeg Belugas, will accompany the national team to the world cup, taking place later this year in Saint Petersburg, Russia. Last week’s draw concluded that Illéa will have to face the German Federation and New Asia in the group stage. The national team’s training will start next week.”

Lo and I shared a look, “this is what you wanted to see Gina?”

“Since when do you care about ice hockey?” I asked, this was something new.

“Urgh, you guys are intolerable,” she silenced us with her finger.

“… and now we will switch to the royal palace in Angeles, to watch the live draw for Prince Arin’s Selection.”

The draw, of course that was what had sparked Gina’s interest. For some unknown reason, the entire Selection had slipped from my mind.

Nevertheless, I felt a little flutter in my stomach. Nerves. Looking over to my friends, I noticed the tense looks on both of their faces. Lo’s hands were clasped together, while Gina’s had disappeared in the pockets of her cardigan.

“Welcome,” some weird voice-over called.

With that the camera focussed on the prince.

“Urgh,” I rolled my eyes.

Lo poked me in the side, laughing, “oh Tavi your distaste is showing.”

“I don’t understand how you can hate someone who is that good looking. I mean have you seen that jawline? Perfection.” Gina had had a crush on the prince for as long as I had known her.

I rolled my eyes again, “I don’t hate him.” The drawing began before I had time to explain myself further.

“From Allens … Idalia Moretti.”

“He doesn’t look very happy,” I couldn’t help but comment, “or comfortable.”

Gina sighed probably annoyed that she couldn’t listen to the show properly, “his engagement was called off not that long ago. That is a pretty hard thing to deal with.”

“Yeah, I see, it’s so hard that he’s having a Selection. Shouldn’t he like get over the other girl first?”

My friends ignored me.

“From Angeles … Emily Rose White.”

This thing was going to take forever. I just wanted to look at the catalogue again, not at that prince, “he’s making me feel uncomfortable, just by watching him.”

Again, no response from either of my friends.

I took that as a sign to remain silent, knowing very well my friends wouldn’t reply anyway now that their eyes were locked on the prince.

“From Dakota … Brooke Lynn Sanders.”

Gina let out a breath she was holding, “okay now is Denbeigh,” she took our hands in hers, “fingers crossed it’s one of us.”

Her hand palms were sweaty, she must really want this.

“From Denbeigh … Octavia Hayes.”

We were all silent for a minute. Then Lo started screaming, Gina joining her. “Oh my GOODNESS!”

“Tavi! You’re going to the palace! You’re going to meet the prince!”

“Yeah,” I was absolutely lost for words. Meeting the prince hadn’t been the first thing that came to my mind, hell it hadn’t even been the second or third thing.

The first thing I thought was: I’m one step closer to getting my dad out of prison. I will be in that freaking library day and night looking for the book that is going to help me. There must be something somewhere about a second opinion on a court order, or something else to annul the judge’s decision.

“Ohhh, I’m sooo jealous of you right now. You are going to meet the prince! And there’s a chance he will fall in love with you and you’ll have beautiful babies.” Gina pulled on one of my curls, it bounced up and down as she let go of it.

“Uhm, I think that particular chance can be redeemed to zero.” I bit my lip, not even in my biggest dreams had I imagined my name would be drawn.

“Tavi, listen. I know you only applied for those laws books, but you need to be friendly to the prince if you want to stay,” Lo insisted, “or else you will be eliminated.”

“And I have to interact with him?”

“There are girls who would kill for a chance of even being in one room with him,” Gina took over, she sounded very serious suddenly. “You’ll meet him that’s for sure, and if you actually try you might make it far enough to earn a date. Just at least try to be nice, okay?”

“Just don’t insult him,” Lo added, “or his family, or the country. Okay, don’t insult anyone.”

The way my best friends were looking at me brought me right back to the good old school days. That was exactly the way teachers had looked whenever I had done something naughty. Which had basically been at least once every day.

“Do you promise?” Lo asked when I didn’t respond.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll try not to insult anyone.” I sighed, this is going to be so much harder than I thought.

All of a sudden a lot robot-like voice yelled “BREAKING NEWS”.

It just scared the living shit out of me. We turned as one towards the laptop again.

On the screen was that fake blond woman in her tracksuit again.

“Prince Arin just completed the draw for his very own Selection. Some famous girls will be joining him at the palace. Our very own province will be represented by Octavia Hayes. You might have heard of her, given that she is some meekly Five. But her father’s name will ring a bell. Octavia’s father is Caspar H., a dangerous convict in prison for murdering Winnipeg’s beloved mayor Wilfred Wallis. He might have very well passed the criminal gene onto his daughter. Not only is she definitely not a good representative for Denbeigh, but the lives of the royal family might all be in danger.”

“Damn it!” Stupid news anchor. Why couldn’t they just stay out of my family’s business. Now the entire country will be aware of this. My dad’s arrest did make the headlines of some newspapers when all that had gone down. But that had been 6 years ago and I had hoped no one would remember that.

But now it was out in the open. Again.

It didn’t even matter that my dad was innocent. He had already been suffering for it by being locked up far away from our family.

“Tavi,” Lo put her arms around me, “that’s just bullshit, no such thing as a criminal gene exists.”

Gina joined our hug, “you can’t take anyone seriously who wears a tracksuit on live TV.”

*** Couple of days later ***

Dear dad,

My name got drawn for the Selection, I’m going to the palace and meet the prince. Some palace person is coming to pick me up anytime now so I can’t write a lot. Plus, if the mail has already arrived then you will have to wait another month before you get this anyway.

I asked Daniel if he could start writing a monthly letter as well, maybe he can even add a little picture of Melody so you can see her for the first time. He said he will take care of mom, Aria and Arlan as well. Molly will just cook dinner for more people, which she doesn’t really mind doing. At least that’s what she said.

Anyhow I will write to you from the palace.

Lots of love, 

Octavia

Zohl wzw, R’n hxzivw. Tlrmt gl gsv kzozxv, z dslov mvd vmerilmnvmg dsviv R wlm’g pmld zmblmv. Ovzermt nln, vhkvxrzoob mld gszg rg urmzoob hvvnh orpv hsv’h gibrmt gl orev ztzrm. Zmw dszg droo gsv xlfmgib gsrmp lu nv. Droo R gfim rmgl zm lfgxzhg? Zxxliwrmt gl DGE R’n tlrmt gl hozftsgvi veviblmv rm gsv kzozxv, yvxzfhv lu blfi ‘xirnrmzo tvmvh’. Yfg gsv kvlkov dsl olev blf droo zodzbh yvorvev blfi rmmlxvmxv, vevm ru gsv dslov xlfmgib hvvnh gl gsrmp lgsvidrhv. Qfhg pmld gszg dv nrhh blf wvziob. Zmw R droo gib vevibgsrmt R xzm gl tvg blf ivovzhvw. Qfhgrxv zodzbh kivezroh.

*** At the airport ***

The car journey all the way from Winnipeg to somewhere in Sota had lasted for ages. Even though I hadn’t really been aware of that, since I fell asleep as soon as they closed the doors behind me.  

A frustrated voice had woken me up, “can you please stop drooling all over the leather upholstery?”

My eyes flew open, saliva was indeed smeared on the seat. I quickly wiped it off my face, where it had been present as well. “Sorry,” I mumbled, I then realized we had arrived at the airport, I quickly opened the car door and jumped out.

What I immediately noticed was the rain puddle I had landed in. My shoes and socks were soaking wet. Great.

“Maybe you should try to act more lady-like?” the driver said with a very disapproving tone, looking me up and down. He had already taken my guitar case out of the car and was about to put it right onto the wet street. I quickly grabbed the case out of his hands, clutching it close to my body.

The driver sighed, “there’s the entrance to the airport. Inside it will be clear which directions to follow.”

I made my way towards the entrance he had pointed at when I heard him mumble to himself, “why did I had to drive a barbarian?”

As I turned around, the car’s engine had been running again. I wasn’t sure if he could see me, nor I did I really care. I showed my middle finger to the car anyway. Asshole.

Never had I seen an airport before. It was freaking massive, people walking in all possible directions. Some carrying luggage with them, others with balloons that read “we missed you” or “welcome home”.

One day, my fam and I will be waiting at the airport, carrying one of those dumb balloons around. Coming to pick up dad.

I snapped out of my daydream by someone tapping me on my shoulder. “Miss Hayes, please come with me.”

Nodding, I followed the person not really having another choice since I had no clue which way I had to go. Maybe this is some insane kidnapper.

My heartbeat increased; did I just make a stupid mistake?

“Only one girl has arrived so far. You are to wait for the others before you can board the plane.”

Okay, no insane kidnapper then.

Unless.

This is a complete setup created by his crazy brain.

Panic filled my body, damnit how will I get out of this situation.

Okay, if I just push the person onto the floor, that will give me a chance to run for my life.

One. 

Two.

Three.

I took a deep breath in, ready to make the push. But at the last minute the person side stepped which caused me to lose my balance. He looked at me in a very funny way, “please take a seat, the flight attendant will come get you in a few minutes.”

My cheeks turned very very warm, the redness might very well have equalled the red colour of a traffic light.

Trying to calm myself down, I slumped down into a chair. Yikes, only now became I aware of it again. My socks were still wet and cold. Sigh.

After taking a few deep breaths in and out, I noticed the other girl.

“Oh hey, you’re also a Selected?” I started, realizing it wouldn’t be a bad thing to talk to someone.

She turned towards me, “I am Brooke Lynn Sanders, but just call me Brooke please!”

Not knowing what else to do, I waved at her a little awkwardly. “hi Brooke, nice to meet you. My name is Octavia, but please call me Tavi.”

“Nice to meet you Octavia. Did you have a good journey?” I could already tell she did have the lady-like manners I had been lacking.

Oh god, I couldn’t possibly tell her about the drooling situation, so I decided to stick to a vague answer. “Yeah, it was alright thanks. What about your own journey? Which province are you from?”

“My send off from Dakota was a bit bumpy but I am here now. I wish they would have let me take the train though...”

Another girl arrived, also looking very much like someone the prince could end up with. Compared to these two, I was more of a rag doll.

Pushing my feelings behind that wall deep inside me, I waved her over, “oh yeah hi, please join us.”

We chatted some more for a bit, until Haven arrived.

The way she was walking, the only person I had seen walking like that was Long-Beard Logan, the homeless guy who could often be found near New Wave Records. He walked the same way, but he had one wooden leg.

Then Haven opened her mouth, a weird voice coming out, “hi.”

I noticed Brooke shared my confusion, “uhm hello?”

She took out her phone and typed something, it read ‘I’m Haven’.

My confusion hadn’t ebbed away, “are you alright?”

She typed some more, ‘yup:)) just got a bad cold! what are your names?’.

As a response to that we all introduced ourselves again. These girls didn’t seem to be that bad, hopefully the other Selected at the palace were the same. But the chance of that being true was small. Also, why did I care what the other girls were like? I wasn’t there to make friends, with them or with the prince. I had applied for the thing I needed most. Access to the royal library.

“Have you guys ever been on a plane before? This is all very new to me.” I admitted, trying to ease the nerves that had been building up inside me ever since my name had been picked in that draw.

Brooke had a very strong opinion on planes. Private planes more specifically.

Which came as a shock to me. The private plane part. I didn’t know what I was thinking but taking a private plane had never crossed my mind.

In the meantime, Brooke started talking about the CO2 emissions.

“How else would we get to the palace without having an endless journey? It’s not like there’s a teleportation device, right?” I said a little more vicious than I intended. The higher castes used planes all the time, if anyone had a cause in the destruction of our planet it was definitely them.

Brooke definitely had thought of it all, as she mentioned the outstanding quality of the Illéan train system. Clara chimed in to agree with her.

I decided to not mention my exact thoughts about the higher castes, given the fact that I had promised my friends back home not to insult anyone. So I just nodded my head, “yeah okay I understand your point.”

We were able to board the plane shortly after that. Brooke sat down in a window-seat and Clara nestled herself in the seat next to Brooke’s.

I took a chair on the opposite side of the plane, trying to create some sort of privacy for myself without being rude.

Haven sat down in the seat next to me and smiled at me.

The entry door closed; I could no longer contain my nerves. “Here we go I guess.” I tried to calm my breathing, but it didn’t really help. I tried to think of my family back home in Denbeigh, didn’t help either. I heard my dad’s voice in my head, it was like he was actually talking to me, “You are a strong girl, the flight will be over before you know it. Octavia, you can do this.”

A weird sound whisked my dad’s voice away, I looked over towards the source of the sound. It was Brooke choking on her drink. “Please don’t die,” I said. Her dying here would be a shitty start to this whole adventure. Besides, Brooke actually seemed like a nice person.

She coughed, “I am – I am trying.”

Haven mentioned her sibling, how they were close and stuff. She then asked if we had any siblings ourselves.

This provided me with the perfect distraction. I turned towards her, “yeah, I have three siblings. One older brother, a younger sister and a younger brother as well.”

Normally I would never share such personal information with someone I had just met but talking about them was the distraction I so desperately needed from this whole plane situation.

The others talked some more, but I just realized the one and only thing that would get me through this.

Music.

“If you guys don’t mind, I’m gonna listen to some music.” I said as I took my earphones out of my bag. “Haven would you like to join?” I asked her politely, given that she was sitting right next to me and it would have been quite rude otherwise.

She smiled at me and nodded, so I handed her one of the earphones. “I do have a very mixed taste in music so you’re in for a treat.” Maybe I could even make her listen to our own music, you know casually extending Five Whispers’ audience.

As a reply, Haven winked at me, “I love a girl with mixed music taste.”

Oh who would have thought, I had something in common with another Selected. I too liked people with a diverse music preference, since music says so much about a person. The quote ‘You are what you listen to’ was on one of the walls of New Wave Records music store. It was also my own personal life motto.

Clara and Brooke continued chatting, but I didn’t listen anymore. The music had taken a hold on me and it had only released me from its grip when the plane hit the ground in Angeles.

[citialiin]

THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; Mun & Muse - Meme.

fill out & repost ♥ This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm. tagged by: @forseenclade thank you ! man i am so bad at doing memes.  tagging: @blossomingbeelzebug @zhrets @lupichorous @dansiere yayayayayayayaya

My muse is:   canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless / complicated [ z/iggy stardust is DEFINITELY not my original character, but 683 is, and every single part of how i rp ziggy from his backstory to his personality was made up by me. that being said, ziggy is still a character that exists in media. ]

Is your character popular in the fandom?  YES / NO. [ im pretty sure ziggy is tied with the thin white duke as one of b*wie’s most famous fictional personas? ]

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom?  YES ? / NO / IDK.

Is your character considered strong in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK.

Are they underrated?  YES / NO / IDK. [ maybe a little overrated ]

Were they relevant for the main story?  YES / NO.

Were they relevant for the main character?  YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG.

Are they widely known in their world?  YES / NO.

How’s their reputation?  GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL. [ celebrity rock god of limitless talent vs inevitable overrated washup. most celebrities are polarizing anyways ]

How strictly do you follow canon?  — there isnt much canon to go off of i think? the album barely even states if ziggy is an alien and b*wie himself got really wishy washy about it (sometimes saying z is a human who was contacted by aliens, he was an alien himself, etc). i dont think we know anything about him besides what he looks like (red hair / weird eyes / pale / “well hung” lmao) and he has a band called the spiders from mars, he plays the guitar left handed, he’s bisexual + androgynous, and he’s charming and popular with the teens but inevitably is a victim of his own ego. and he dies.  that too.  but that’s literally it! we know Nothing else about him.  so i filled in all the gaps because my brain has worms.  theres a little bit of the story that verges on fantasy (that he’s some sort of messiah messenger for “the infinites,” whatever the fuck THAT means, david) so i nix that because i prefer hard scifi.  and theres one BIG part that i just ... deleted out of his canon, in that the world is ending in 5 years in his timeline, and he’s like ... aware of this ?  but that’s dumb and confusing.  i legit dont care anymore. my OC now.

SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals.  —  im so embarrassed i know i could be genuine and actually try but i have brain blockajjolajlakala33lak33klak333ak3jka3akjj323j3 i guess it’s like ... ziggy is truly the ultimate expression OF humanity because he reveals everything both wrong and right about the human condition, he literally embodies the best of humanity and the worst at the same time, he’s a really interesting critique on the idea of genuineness/earnestness vs commercalism in art, the perils of fame, and also how humans are so inherently corrupting?  a lot of thematic stuff i like exploring is like what is innate to humans vs what is learned behavior, what are things that humans do naturally that ziggy mimics out of his desire to be like us?  i think he has a really good story arc -- he went from being a literal nameless CLONE in a society full of pragmatic forward thinking science-oriented people to a sell out rockstar celebrity in a society of people that value individualism and self expression and art, but in the process completely lost his mind and himself and gave into the worst that humanity has to offer like rampant selfishness, drug abuse, self destructive tendencies, etc. characters changing is always interesting and ziggy truly changes for the worse -- but he is never just black and white, he was never good and then suddenly evil, he just was always the same person putting on different facades and trying to be himself by constructing an identity that maybe was who he wanted to be versus who he actually is.  i dont know what im talking about. hes just an alien trying to be too hard to be human in all the wrong ways.   i just like how “gray” ziggy is. he isnt good or bad, he can be very nice and he can be very mean, he’s overtly showboating confident but at the same time deeply afflicted with self-consciousness (why tf else would anyone be So obsessed with how they present themselves?).  hes an icon of individualism but also commercialism.  he’s freakishly alien but is almost more human than humans themselves.  he struggles as lot in his head -- which makes for interesting writing, i guess !!  Im so emabrrased im not going to go back and read what i wrote so if i typoed dont look at me

Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?).  —  i think ziggy comes across as really mean and nothing else.  his horrible bitchy rudeness comes across as hee hee hoo hoo sassy isnt he a rascal when it’s supposed to be more like ... he’s so far gone into the celebrity delusion he’s conflated aggressive rudeness with charmingness because no one told him otherwise and everyone worships him to the point where he’s just given into the delusion that he can do no wrong.  i think theres the general simplification problem that happens with a lot of fictional characters, it’s easy to see him as just a whacky sassy glittery quirky rockstar when i guess it avoids the inherent tragedy of like ... everything else about him. his totally fake and false sense of identity built up from superficial things like fame and labels and stardom.  maybe my version of ziggy is just too weirdly depressing and sad when i know his original iteration wasn’t quite so ... grim.  im not very sure tbh.  

What inspired you to rp your muse?  —  hmmm ... a lot of things! i just really got into b*wie stuff in early 2019, i’ve ALWAYS loved aliens and sci-fi, and i was really shocked that db sets up such great visual storytelling potential but does it through music.  i just really liked ziggys “story” and i like any chance to think about aliens so i just got invested into piecing together a little backstory for him using, like, the cumulative knowledge of literally every other piece of science fiction ive ever consumed in my life.  this was summer 2019 when i was making initial pitches for my thesis film, and so i just randomly decided to pitch “animated version of ziggy stardust” as one of the potential ideas.  shockingly everyone liked it a lot and so did my professor who thought it was really cool, and then i just ended up sticking with the character and working on him for an entire year.  ziggy became my hobby but also my homework.  he was such a fun character because everything about him was interesting to me and i had just enough source material to have a starting point but so much room to take him in any direction i wanted to.

What keeps your inspiration going?  —  honestly, yooooou guyssssss. i have some really amazing fwends that ive met thru here .... and some of our dumb stupid stories have literally become NOVEL length. it just self generates inspiration because you realize the limitless amount of stories you could tell with this one single character when your character enters his story or he enters their story and etc. etc.  ive drawn endless amounts of comics and stuff for him ... ziggy is just so endlessly interesting ...   cringe be cringed bro but recently (i know this sounds dumb bear with me or die.) ive kind of realized a lot of how i rp z comes as some metaphor for the experience of being an asian immigrant/being asian in the US -- his home “culture” is a lot stricter than the rampant selfish individualism of the usa (he only lives in the uk and usa, so he thinks the whole planet is like this), he’s dissuaded from standing out from his community and his selfishness becomes a community burden rather than a personal flaw, and when he does come to earth, he goes through such awful culture shock, literally nothing makes sense to him and everything is Different.  and while some things are different in a Nice way, something things are different in an Awful way, and he’s given the option between losing his true personal identity as an atominan and giving it up to be a human.  the allure of being a human is a little too much but losing yourself like this is traumatic, in a way.  obvs like ... a little silly and definitely not something that i actively intended to put into his story arc, its just something that fell into place cuz i guess i worked so closely with my own personal experiences and feelings of “alienation” (pun intended) to try to understand how he would feel being a literal alien an shid. its cathartic to write about him. but he also has a lot of my own personal interests just thrown in -- 70s fashion, scifi, science, tryhard implications about human nature, art history, whatever dumb nonsense i get into

Some more personal questions for the mun.

Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you give your character justice?  YES / NO / SOMETIMES?

Do you frequently write headcanons?  YES / NO  [ i would prefer information to spring up organically in the story but cuz threads always get dropped i end up just telling people outright. i didnt want anyone to know his home planet/his old name but barely anyone writes enough with ziggy to get to that point to reveal it (i legit managed to do it organically Once) so i just had to write it in a post lmao orz ]

Do you sometimes write drabbles?  YES / NO [ wrote a ton of drabbles ! drew a ton of comics! ]

Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day? YES / NO 

Are you confident in your portrayal?   YES / NO / I DUNNO?

Are you confident in your writing?  YES / HAHA NO.

Are you a sensitive person?  YES  / NO. / IDK ? 

Do you accept criticism well about your portrayal?  —  definitely!  like i said ... my version of ziggy ended up being the protag of my thesis film and for 1 yr straight his characterization, backstory, design, and even how i wanted to animate his fucking movements (ziggy stardust timing charts.) were beaten to death in a classroom environment, torn apart and rebuilt into something better.  had i stayed with what i originally wanted to go with, ziggy would be so different than how i write him 2day. amazingly my pre production professor is a literal two time emmy award winning storyboard artist and animator so he definitely helped me design him (my version of ziggy is meant for ... a cartoon, obviously, not real life) and give him a better backstory?  and my post production professor is a retired disney animator who worked on hercules and a bunch of old disney channel shows?  had i gone wah wah wah i dont want to hear ur critiques i wouldnt have made him better.  if you ever think ziggy seems inconsistent or poorly written ... tell me !! i literally major in ... animation. cartoons. entertainment.  my job is to entertain you. if you are not entertained, there is a problem.  ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED ????

Do you like questions, which help you explore your character?  —  I LOVE QUESTIONS? i love ... answering questions ... if you ask me something ill come kiss you.

If someone disagrees to a headcanon of yours, do you want to know why?  —  sure! i dont know why that would happen, though, because i mean ... he’s an OC. but i gues someone could be like “i feel like this is incongruous to things you’ve previously established in his character” or somethin

If someone disagrees with your portrayal, how would you take it?  —  i feel like a lot of b*wie stans would find my version of ziggy weird but i mean thats fine!  i guess my goal is to have a well written character, not necessarily an accurate version of ziggy

If someone really hates your character, how do you take it?  —  if you hate MY version of ziggy thats fine but if u hate ziggy stardust in general (like the bowie concept) then u need some taste what the fuck is cooler than a egomaniac genderless bisexual rockstar alien with red hair? nothing. go back to watching your CW shows you dirty filthy normie

Are you okay with people pointing out your grammatical errors?  —  yes! dm me though. dont clown me on the dash like that.  i usually write your replies 12 AM - 4 AM so it’s expected.

Do you think you are easy going as a mun?   —  hmmm ... maybe! i do like to talk to people and i am VERY nice, trust me, if youre ever sad ill do everything i can to make you feel better. but im quiet! i dont really reach out to people and i tend to just keep to myself.  im not very social or extroverted at all haha i barely can make ooc posts without feeling like god’s coming to beat my head in with a brick. im sitting here at 5:30 AM with this meme feeling like if i post it i will die (BUT I MUST)

[avarice-inclined]

GET TO KNOW THE BLOGGER .

Can be used for RP and non-RP blogs to get to know a bit about the person behind the screen!

1. FIRST NAME: emmett

2. STRANGE FACT ABOUT YOURSELF: i have an overall weird talent for mimicking character voices, but the most notable one is Stitch from Lilo and Stitch

3. TOP THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU FIND ATTRACTIVE ON A PERSON:   -✧ eyes, definitely, even though it’s a bit of an oxymoron because of how much i HATE making direct eye-contact in conversation, but i like eyes when i can look and the person isn’t looking directly at me -✧ how a person smiles is a big one, because happiness is really heckin beautiful and it’s even better if i know i’m the cause of a smile -✧ freckles. i absolutely love freckles, like, the more the merrier. it’s like having constellations on their skin, like the universe doused them in glitter idk, they’re just super pretty 

4. A FOOD YOU COULD EAT FOREVER AND NOT GET BORED OF: mac n cheese, esp if it’s nice and gooey with lots of melted cheese. i go absolutely ham for good mac n cheese lol

5. A FOOD YOU HATE: i don’t really care for beans of any sort. baked beans are an exception but, like, they gotta be the sweet kind. i hate sausage, in general, esp breakfast sausage because the smell just makes my stomach feel bleugh 

6. GUILTY PLEASURE: collecting stupid quarter machine figurines and writing complex, self-insert fanfiction in my head that never make it into written form because i am not brave enough to actually write any of that shit down lmao

7. WHAT DO YOU SLEEP IN: leggings and a t-shirt, sometimes just a shirt and nothin else cuz i live in florida in a house with no central air and it’s HOT don’t judge

8. SERIOUS RELATIONSHIPS OR FLINGS: serious, but only because i’m not emotionally capable of flings and i have to get p close to someone for anything bedroom-related to come up, and if it’s gotten to that point i’m definitely already HELLA ATTACHED and probably already telling the person ‘love you’ in casual conversation

9. IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN THE PAST AND CHANGE ONE THING ABOUT YOUR LIFE, WOULD YOU AND WHAT WOULD IT BE: i honestly don’t know about this because, like, ideally i would have left my parents house way earlier than i did, or at least tried to assert my demand to be treated like a human being way earlier, but, then again, everything that’s happened in my life has led me to the point i’m at today and if things had gone just slightly different, i might not have met my husband, or i might not be as sure of my gender identity as i am now. so, like, even though a lot of things in my past REALLY SUCKED, there’s only a specific few things i might change but even then i’d be hesitant about it because i like how my life is now, even with all the shit i had to struggle through to get here.

10. ARE YOU AN AFFECTIONATE PERSON: probably, yeah, i am def that touch-starved bitch who craves physical affection, be it platonic, romantic, or otherwise. i’m not down to hug or cuddle with a stranger but, like, if i’m friends with someone and know they’re cool with it, they’re gettin loved on

11. A MOVIE YOU COULD WATCH OVER AND OVER AGAIN: all of the LoTR/Hobbit movies, any Studio Ghibli film, the last unicorn, WOLF CHILDREN EVEN THO IT MAKES ME LITTLE-GIRL SOB EVERY TIME, Venom, Detective Pikachu, THE PRINCESS BRIDE

12. FAVORITE BOOK: island of the blue dolphins, the entire animorphs series, DRAGONRIDERS OF PERN SERIES, actually just about any book with dragons in it where the dragons are complex and not evil is absolutely my jam, the Abhorsen series, also the Hunger Games... i don’t really have one specific favorite book that’s literally impossible to decide lol

13. YOU HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO KEEP ANY ANIMAL AS A PET, WHAT DO YOU CHOOSE: anything that isn’t a spider or a bug that can inflict bodily harm unto my person. i just really love all animals okay just gimme a farm house or a ranch so i can have ALL of my favorite animals in one place that’d be ideal. but if i had to pick just one i’d want my cat because she’s the best little girl and i’ve only had her for 4 days but i would die for this chaotic little ball of fluff you have no idea. i am incomplete without a cat at my side

14. TOP FIVE FICTIONAL SHIPS [IF YOU ARE AN RP BLOG, YOU CAN USE YOUR OWN SHIPS AS WELL]: (FMA) ed/winry or ed/ling, just let the kids be happy, (WITCHER) geralt/jaskier/yen, because geralt has two hands and both of them deserve to be held, (FMA) greed/not dying au’s, I JUST WANT MY BOY TO HAVE A HAPPY ENDING IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK FOR?, (ATLA) katara/zuko/aang, lemme have my loving polyam pairings, (ADVENTURE ZONE) taako/kravitz, because the bar doesn’t get much higher than seducing the grim reaper with threat of tentacles

15. PIE OR CAKE: i literally cannot choose between the two, i have favorites from both categories and i BAKE so that makes it even harder

16. FAVORITE SCENT: vanilla, peaches, and books

17. CELEBRITY CRUSH: brendan urie or kiera knightley... also david tennant

18. IF YOU COULD TRAVEL ANYWHERE, WHERE WOULD YOU GO: new zealand, because i’m a nerd and that’s where LoTR was filmed, but i’d also like to go to japan

19. INTROVERT OR EXTROVERT: definitely an introvert

20. DO YOU SCARE EASILY: very much so, but i do still enjoy horror themes in movies and games, even if i can’t play most games myself and have to watch lets plays of them

21. IPHONE OR ANDROID: i’ve only ever had android phones. the only apple device i ever had was an iPad but since i was only using it for art i don’t have much of an opinion on it beyond that lol

22. DO YOU PLAY ANY VIDEO GAMES: i’m currently playing the witcher 3, whichever final fantasy has Noctis in it- i don’t know what the number is because i have a hard time reading roman numerals, kingdom hearts 3, and animal crossing new leaf (if any of you also play i am welcome to giving out my friend code if you’re interested!)

23. DREAM JOB: making a living off my art, or even getting into video game design

24. WHAT WOULD YOU DO WITH A MILLION DOLLARS: pay off debt/overdue bills, finally get hormone therapy and top surgery, and get myself and my friends and chosen family into a better house and away from abusive situations

25. FICTIONAL CHARACTER YOU HATE: i don’t think there are any characters that i hate tbh, i might hate things that certain characters DO, but that’s not the same as hating the character itself. from a design perspective, though, Tingle from LOZ can fuck right off, actually. WAIT SCRATCH THAT. SHOU TUCKER CAN SWALLOW A CACTUS WHOLE. that is all. ahem.

26. FANDOM THAT YOU WERE ONCE A PART OF BUT AREN’T ANY LONGER: twi//light, until i realized just how gross smeyer was and how her writing is, objectively, not as great as everyone made it out to be

tagged by: stole this from @dolcetters tagging: if you wanna do it, go for it!

[missing-marvel]

Doll

Pairing: Noir Spider-Man (Into the Spider-Verse)/Reader

A/N: Idk if Noir actually can’t see color or just doesn’t recognize individual colors so I’m going with the former. Also, this one does use female pronouns btw, I just wanted to be able to use 30's slang which is pretty much all gendered.

You almost didn’t hear the tapping at your window over your music. Luckily, the song ended just in time for you to catch the familiar sound. You quickly turned the volume down before hurrying to the window.

You were greeted by the familiar black mask of Spider-Man, or more specifically, “Noir” as the other Spider-people had taken to calling him. You just called him Peter, however.

“Evening, ma’am,” he said as you slid the window open. He removed his hat in a gesture of politeness. He was nothing if not a gentleman.

“Evening, Peter.” You often mimicked his old-timey speech, albeit poorly. He found it endearing. He stepped inside, setting his hat on the windowsill gently.

“Am I interrupting something?” Peter gestured to the paint-spattered apron tied around your waist.

“Oh, no, of course not. Just a little painting is all.” You smiled a bit and ran a hand through your hair. You couldn’t see it behind the mask, but Peter couldn’t help but smile when you did. He was normally very serious, all grim and brooding, but he couldn’t help but brighten up around you. In all honesty, the ‘stern detective’ bit was mostly a facade. In reality, Peter could almost be considered playful, though not nearly as much as his other dimensional counterparts.

“Oh, a new painting? Can I see?” Peter was always eager to see your art, especially as you were working on it. Normally you didn’t like to show off your paintings, but for Peter you just couldn’t refuse.

“Of course, but you’ll want to leave your coat here so it doesn’t get paint on it.” You waited as he took off his trench coat and placed it neatly next to his hat. Lastly, he took off the mask, leaving his black hair tousled in all directions. You failed to suppress a laugh, putting a hand over your mouth. He looked confused for a moment before realizing what was so funny. He ran a gloved hand through his hair to fix it as best he could.

You made your way into the next room with Peter at your heels. The room was a mess; tarps covering the floor, paint covering the tarps, and miscellaneous art supplies scattered about. A lone shabby loveseat sat against one wall, the only real furniture in the room. An easel stood in the center of the room holding your current project.

“Ta-da!” You gestured at your painting proudly. It wasn’t finished yet, but the clear shape of flowers was visible. You wouldn’t call yourself an ‘artist’ per se, but you certainly weren’t bad. You were just painting for fun, really.

“Daisies?” Peter asked, peering over your shoulder.

“They’re sunflowers, babe.” You raised an eyebrow at him, feigning offense. You put on your best pouty expression.

“Ah, I’m so sorry, doll. I thought they were white. They’re very light, that’s all.” You knew full well he couldn’t see what color they were, but it was adorable seeing him ramble on. He wrapped his arms around your waist softly and rested his his chin on your shoulder as you both looked back to the painting. “It’s gorgeous nonetheless. It belongs in a museum, I’d say.”

You scoffed and reached up to ruffle Peter’s hair, only causing him to hold you tighter. “Such a charmer, you.” You both laughed for a moment before a peaceful quiet settled over the room. Your hands came to rest on Peter’s, who quickly intertwined your fingers together. You listened to the soothing sound of his breathing next to you as you scrutinized the painting. You didn’t even notice as he raised his head from your shoulder, his gaze drifting from the painting to you.

You wished you could have this all the time; Peter holding you close, happy to see you making art even if he couldn’t see it all properly. Hell, you just wished he could be here all the time. That was the problem with alternate dimensions, though. He couldn’t stay here forever or his body would basically disintegrate. He could visit fairly often, and he did, but you wanted more. You missed him every minute he was gone, and he clearly felt the same. Maybe someday they’d find a solution to this ‘dimension-hopping’ problem but until then, you’d just have to take what you were given.

“Why so glum, dear? Did I say something?” Peter pulled away, looking down at you worriedly. You suddenly felt a chill without his arms around you, the room seeming much cooler than it had before.

“Of course not, Peter. I just got lost in my thoughts, that’s all.” You knew your true meaning wasn’t lost on him. He was an investigator, after all. He always seemed to know what you were feeling.

He let out a sigh and you noticed his shoulders slump. “I have an idea to cheer you up,” he said, taking your hands in his once more. “Let’s play the game again. You always enjoy that.”

The game was one of your favorite things to do together. Being an artist made it all the more fun, but you didn't think Peter felt the same. “You hate the game. You said it makes you want to tear your hair out,” you said.

“Now when did I say that?” Peter feigned ignorance. While he had said that particular phrase before, he didn’t actually mean it. The game was fun, most of the time, and it meant he got to spend more time with you. “Why don’t you show more on that telephone of yours this time?” Peter took a seat on the sofa, gesturing for you to join him.

You didn’t hesitate to do so, having a seat next to him. You got comfortable, leaning into his side as you got out your cell phone. “What do you want to try first?” you asked.

“Surprise me.” Peter began gently running a hand through your hair as you fiddled with your phone. By now he’d gotten used to the technology here in your dimension, though that didn’t mean he fully understood how it worked. You’d explained that it was phone and what the internet was and all that, but it never ceased to amaze him just how much that little gadget could do.

You opened your internet browser and searched for the first thing you could think of. You opened a picture of a brown and white spotted horse. “Alright, what color is that?” You said, pointing at a brown area of the horse.

Peter pauses to think for a moment, even attempting to zoom in on the picture as he’d seen you do before. After a few moments of fiddling with the screen and failing, you had to show him how again. He was thankful you weren’t facing him as the blood rushed to his cheeks, tinting them a slightly darker grey.

“It’s uh... it’s red, I think. It’s not dark enough to be black.” He’d gotten better since his first visit to your dimension, but still not perfect. Since his dimension was completely monochrome, he couldn’t exactly see the colors here. You’d been the one to turn it into a sort of game. Sometimes, he would purposefully get the color wrong just to make you laugh.

“Close,” you said. “It’s brown. They’re not far apart on the color spectrum.”

This went on for some time. You looked up all sorts of different things, mainly plants and animals, and Peter was guessing surprisingly well. Eventually, you felt your eyes getting heavy and you couldn’t help but yawn. It had been a bit late when Peter showed up, and now it was definitely well past when you usually went to sleep. Between that, the warmth of Peter’s body heat, and the soft brush of his fingers through your hair, you were more comfortable than you’d been in a long time. You knew Peter could stay for a matter of days, so you weren’t worried about him leaving in the night. In the morning, he’d be right here with you.

A/N: I never thought I'd be writing fanfic for a character voiced by Nicolas Cage but here we are. Noir is just so underrated and needs more love.

[can-youmoveyourseatup]

Luck

A/N: aye! this is my very first imagine posted on tumblr and tbh I'm very!! excited!! (my friend came up with this idea and I though it was pretty cute so idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ) (also, the ‘technicalities’ with the fracture I found on google, so I apologise if its not very accurate!!)

(also this is a repost bc I'm an idiot and didn't post it to my primary gah)

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

warnings: breaking your leg accidentally? two implied swear words? mainly just a whole lotta fluff!1!!

word count: 4.7k (go big or go home)

masterlist

The crease between your eyebrows grew as your scowl deepened. You glowered intensely at the cast that entrapped your leg, confining you to the bed unable to move  without a sharp pain creeping up your body. A pathetic whine fell from your lips as you shifted slightly, helplessly attempting to find a somewhat comfortable position given your impending circumstances. Huffing, you threw your head backwards onto the pillow, glaring at the ceiling and the fluorescent lights that were beginning to contribute to a painful headache mumbling incoherencies under your breath. However, despite your current predicament you couldn’t help but let a small smile adorn your lips as you thought back to the morning’s events involving a certain brooding soft super-soldier.

It had started last night when you arrived home from a mission with Steve and Nat. Whilst it had only lasted three days, it had taken a lot out of you, you felt drained and your body was all but dead weight; exhaustion was a mere understatement. Walking groggily into the lounge, you mumbled a small greeting to the rest of the team. Your tired state prevented you from noticing the once giddy grin fall from Bucky’s face as you unintentionally ignored his eager greeting as he stumbled on his feet from his position on the couch, ready to wrap his arms around you.

He felt his smile drop as he watched your retreating figure, looking helplessly in your direction seemingly lost. He felt a pang in his chest from the blatant rejection, casting his gaze upon Steve and Natasha as they stumbled in the room not long after you had left.

“Hey pal,” Steve mumbled, patting Bucky’s shoulder and smiling tiredly in his direction. His feet came to an abrupt halt after noting the crestfallen look on his face, disappointment evidently radiating off him in waves. “What’s wrong, Buck?” Steve asked anxiously, nudging him gently in hope of breaking him from his distressed trance.

“Have I done something wrong?” The sheer panic that laced Bucky’s voice was enough for Steve to drop everything and attempt to aid his best friend. “Did Y/N say she was upset with me?”

“What? No! Why on earth would you think that?” Steve shook his head repeatedly, in a feeble attempt to reassure Bucky. He watched as Bucky, glanced quickly between the hallway leading away from the lounge and Steve, unable to contain his blatant anxiety.

“I-I don’t know . . . but Stev-!”

“Bucky, she hasn’t said a thing, I promise. She’s probably got other things on her mind. That was one long mission I’ll tell ya. Stop stressing.” With that Steve gave Bucky one last smile, a pat on the back and a fleeting glance before following Y/N’s actions down the hallway, off to get some well-deserved rest.

But Bucky couldn’t help but stress. Stress was his middle name when it came to you. He couldn’t help that his day was instantly better upon hearing your laughter and that stupid giggle that drove him insane. He couldn’t help it that his hands got clammy and his heart beat that bit faster when you walked into the room and greeted him with a smile. He couldn’t help it that he found himself smiling stupidly when you hugged him close or chose to sit next to him on movie nights.

He couldn’t help it that he was undeniably smitten for you.

From her position by the kitchen counter, Nat raised an eyebrow watching silently as Bucky ran a hand through his hair, avoiding the knowing gazes that the others were shooting him from the lounge. Sam grinned comically in Bucky’s direction and Wanda placed a hand over her mouth to stop the laughter from escaping her lips. Anyone could tell that Bucky had fallen deeply for you and to your fellow teammates, Bucky’s obvious distraught made them smile. She allowed a smirk to grace her lips as she laughed quietly.

Natasha had noticed weeks ago that Bucky had a thing for you. At first, she thought it was just nerves assuming that he hadn’t adjusted to your overly sarcastic yet charismatic personality. But his awkward behaviour around you continued as the two of you grew more comfortable around each other and you were completely oblivious to the longing looks he repeatedly cast in your direction.

At the noise, Bucky’s head snapped in her direction, a blush dusting his cheeks as looked at Natasha. Despite his obvious glare, she continued to laugh evidently finding his obliviousness amusing. Whilst Bucky may have been unaware of it, Natasha definitely noticed the way in which you were reciprocating his sneaky glances and the matching blush that adorned both your cheeks when you were caught. In fact, it seemed as though everyone in the compound, with the exception of the pair of you, noticed the way you were smitten for each other. She found it undeniably adorable.

“What?” Bucky mumbled, the blush growing as he averted his gaze to floor. “I know you want to say something, so what is it?”

Natasha merely laughed freely, her teasing smile making its way back onto her face as she stared at Bucky, amused by his behaviour. She pushed herself up from the bench, before stopping before Bucky to pat chest mockingly.

“Go do us all a favour and talk to her.” With that, she all but pranced out of the lounge room, leaving a confused and distraught Bucky in her wake.

Groaning loudly, you hadn’t event shed off your uniform before collapsing on the bed, humming in satisfaction when you nuzzled your head into your pillow. Whilst your uniform may not be the most comfortable thing you own, you were perfectly content to fall asleep as you were, still covered in grim and sweat from the mission. You felt yourself begin to drift off to sleep, your eyes unbelievably heavy as they remained sealed shut. A gentle knock on your door jolted you awake, your eyes shooting open, however, your body refused to move as you practically resembling dead weight strewn across your bed. A groan escaped your lips once again, as you tiredly called out to the person behind your door to come in.

You felt your lips quirk upwards as you watched Bucky enter hesitantly, you heart fumbling the tiniest bit as you felt your insides turn to mush. “Buck,” you mumbled, smiling a little wider when he grinned as you patted the space next to where you laid on your side.

“Hey, doll.” As much as you liked to convince yourself that the little nickname didn’t have an impact, you couldn’t deny it. The nickname left you feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush all over again, butterflies erupting in your tummy as he approached you. You felt yourself heat up as Bucky sat upright next to you on the edge of the bed, his hand coming down to brush the hair off your forehead, smiling softly down at you. You felt your eyes slipping shut again as he stroked your hair, feeling completely content.

“‘m sorry I didn’t come to your room. . . ‘m so tired.” Bucky shook his head dismissively, visibly relaxing after finally realising that you were not mad with him in any way, shape or form. “I missed you,” you mumbled tiredly after a moment of silence, your cheeks growing hot as you felt his gaze on your face. He laughed softly, gripping the hand that was resting on the bed beside you in his left, the cool of the metal against your skin making you feel at home instantly. The familiarity of the panes of metal against your palm as he caressed it with his thumb, encouraged a sigh of content to slip past your lips.

“I missed you, too. So much.” Bucky mumbled, feeling his heat beat faster as the small smile that rested on your lips grew ever so slightly.

“You’re gonna hate me now doll, but we have to get you out that uniform.” At his words, you couldn’t help but whine childishly, refusing to move from your current position muttering a small ‘no’ under your breath.

Bucky smiled at you again, as he softly called out your name. “Y/N, c’mon you’ll thank me later.” You knew he was right as much as you didn’t want to admit it; you felt sticky and gross right now but given your predicament, sleeping in your dirty uniform sounded much more appealing than moving.

“Bucky no.” You deadpanned, refusing to move in the slightest and open your eyes.

“Bucky yes.” You couldn’t help but snort at his comment, peeling open an eyelid to find him staring down at you, smirking teasingly at you.

“I hate that you’re right, but I don’t wanna move.” At that he laughed again, tugging on your arm slightly, coaxing you into moving from the position you were in, curled into a ball.

“The quicker you get up, the quicker you get to go to bed.”

“Will you still be here when I come back?” You cast your gaze downwards again, refusing to look him in the eye and allow him to see the true extent to which you had missed him, because despite how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you had really missed him.

“Where else would I go? Can’t really cuddle myself, can I?” You blushed yet again, cursing your erratic heartbeat, before begrudgingly getting off the bed and walking to the bathroom.

You tried to shower as quickly as possible, which proved difficult given your very sore joints and you were sure that your legs were more than likely going to give way any second, eager to jump into your pyjamas. Pushing the curtain aside, you felt your heart swell as you noticed a towel and your favourite fluffy pyjama pants and your favourite sweater you stole frequently from Bucky, neatly folded beside the basin. In your haste and delirious state, you had forgotten to grab a change of clothes yourself. You grinned widely again as you reached for the sweater, quickly pulling it over your head as Bucky’s signature scent engulfed you. After hurriedly brushing your teeth, you exited the bathroom smiling sheepishly at Bucky and thanking him quietly. Sluggishly, you threw your uniform in the hamper next to the bathroom door before approaching Bucky. You smiled again when you noticed that Bucky had changed into his own pyjamas: clad in a pair of sweatpants and a black t-shirt, attempting to quickly prepare the bed for you.

“What did I do to deserve you?” You asked rhetorically as you slipped into the covers, Bucky close behind you shifting slightly to get comfortable.

“Don’t get all cheesy on me now Y/N.” Bucky joked, knowing that when you were tired your affectionate side revealed itself. You scoffed, kicking him in the leg and loving the sound of the laugh that you received in return. He smiled at you, eyeing the loose fabric that rested on your shoulders and the way it all but engulfed you.

“C’mere doll, you need to sleep. We can talk tomorrow morning.” Bucky whispered, noticing the yawn that escaped you and the way you tried to suppress it, wanting to talk to him for that little bit longer. But you couldn’t refuse when he wrapped his arm around your waist, reigning you in to rest your head against his chest, wrapping your arms around him in return.

Bucky rested his chin against your head, loving the way you pressed yourself further into his embrace. "Goodnight darlin’," he mumbled into the silence, pressing his lips lightly against your forehead and hugging you the slightest bit tighter. "I love you," he added moments later, closing his eyes suddenly as though the darkness that engulfed the two of you became too overbearing. But you didn't hear it, soft snores escaping you, sound asleep in Bucky's arms, the steady beat of his heart lulling you into a peaceful and dreamless sleep.

It wasn't until F.R.I.D.A.Y announced that the two of you were required in the conference room that you woke up. Whilst it may have not been the most desirable waking, you were more than happy with your current predicament. During the night, it had seemed the two of you had shifted even closer. You were all but laying on top of Bucky, your legs slotted between his with your foot resting on his calve as they tangled together. Your head rested on his right shoulder, as you hugged his waist, his left hand entwined with one of your own. His right hand had slipped beneath his hoodie you were wearing, mindlessly caressing the skin on your lower back during his slumber, bringing you even closer together and you were definitely not complaining.

“Good morning,” your lips curled into a grin when Bucky began to shift beneath you, his arms tightening around your figure when he noticed you were still pressed up against him. Lifting your head, you placed your chin on his chest to peer up at him, not missing the way he smiled broadly when he looked at you wrapped up in his arms clad in his hoodie, loving the familiar crinkle of the corner of his eyes.

“Good morning, darlin’” his voice was still laced with sleep, his blue eyes peering tiredly at you before he pressed his lips to your forehead. Your heart pounded in your chest, as his grip on your hand subconsciously grew tighter when you tucked your head under his chin. “We have to get up, don't we?” Bucky asked quietly, silently praying that the others forgot about the pair of you, leaving you to stay in bed for the remainder of the day. Bucky felt completely content. No nightmares haunted his dreams that night; your presence calming him to a state of complete tranquillity, as he was finally able to get a good night’s sleep since your departure. Whenever you left he couldn't help but worry about you. Whilst he knew that you were more than capable of defending yourself, having been on the receiving end of your right-hand swing more than once during training sessions, Bucky couldn’t bear the thought of you injuring yourself on a mission. He didn't even what to contemplate what it would be like to lose you. You were his anchor and without you he knew he wouldn't be able to remain stable.

You sighed in response to his question, mumbling a small ‘unfortunately’ under your breath, neither of you possessing any desire to move from your current position.

“No. I refuse.” Bucky stubbornly muttered, brining your body even closer so he could bury his nose in the crook of your shoulder. His actions and stubborn behaviour elicited a giggle out of you, your hand mindlessly outlining the scar on his chest where metal met flesh. You felt him flinch ever so slightly, knowing exactly what was going on in his head, but relaxed almost instantaneously when you quickly pressed your lips against his arm. Your heart clenched in your chest as you thought about the inevitable pain Bucky experienced, the endless nightmares that invaded his thoughts when he was caught off guard. You felt an overwhelming desire to pull him flush against your body, in an attempt to shield him away for the bad that existed in the world. You wanted nothing more than to protect him from the harm HYDRA had caused, protect him from those who couldn't see past the metal arm and what it insinuated. You were still unable to comprehend how the world was unable to see what you saw: a broken man tainted by his past who wanted nothing more than acceptance.  

“Hey,” you were brought out of your trance by Bucky, squeezing you hand lightly. “you okay there?” He watched you, his eyebrows pulled together noticing the sombre look that adorned your features. You shook your head resting your chin again on his chest to gain a better view of the blue eyes you had come to adore.

“I’m fine Buck, I just-” you cut yourself off with a sigh evidently frustrated, casting your gaze anywhere to avoid the look he was giving you.

“Y/N, look at me.”  When you refused to pick up your head, he curled a finger under your chin, his calloused hand caressing your soft skin in the sweetest of ways. “What’s troubling you? You know you can tell me anything. I’ll always listen, you know that.”

You smiled gratefully, at a loss for words as he manoeuvred his right hand to cup your cheek, his thumb running across your jawline. You felt your stomach do a flip and your eyelids slowly seal shut at the feeling. “Mhmm . . .” You couldn't even respond to his question too caught up on the way Bucky was invading all your senses, his gentle touch that felt all too natural driving you to the brink of insanity.

“Doll,” Bucky mumbled, a clear shift in the atmosphere causing you to open your eyes, peering up at him from beneath your eyelashes. Your breath hitched in your throat as you caught sight of his expression: nothing but pure adoration lingering in his eyes. You weren’t completely sure who moved first, but you could feel your palms sweating as he Bucky laid his forehead against yours, his breathe fanning your upper lip ever so teasingly. Your felt your breathing quicken as Bucky mumbled your name again, his eyes slipping closed as his hand moved to the nape of your neck. His hand tangling in your hair and bringing your head closer to him. You followed him, your eyes shutting on their own accord, your toes curling in anticipation of what was about to happen as your noses brushed.

“Did you misplace your alarm clock or are you just so incapable-” Your bedroom door flung open without warning causing your eyes to snap open, catching Bucky’s stunned expression which you were almost positive matched your own.

“What the fu-” Sam abruptly shouted, just as shocked as the two of your breaking you both our of your frozen state. Bucky, very obviously off guard completely, unintentionally shoved you off him as he sat up, resulting in you letting out an indignant squawk as you felt yourself fall. In a feeble attempt to prevent the inevitable, you grabbed onto Bucky, causing him to fall off the bed, with him landing awkwardly onto of you. All was silent for a second, as your mind tried to catch up with what just happened. You cast you gaze between Bucky, Sam and a confused Steve behind him opening and closing your mouth pathetically, as your heart pounded in your chest unable to suppress your disappointment over Sam’s entrance, stopping what had almost occurred. As Bucky began to shift slightly to free you from beneath him, a sharp pain began to crawl up your leg causing you to let out a cry of pain, your hands automatically going to grip your leg. And alas, here you were; confined to possibly the most uncomfortable bed in the building, glaring viciously at the cast that was meant to serve to protect your fractured leg.  

You turned your head to the door as it opened, revealing Bruce an almost teasing smile on his face. You narrowed your eyes in his direction, not missing the way Sam had all but ran down the hallways telling everyone what he had walked in and you were positive that Bruce had surely gotten that earful.

“So, you've fractured your Tibia but luckily, it’s a stable fracture so if all goes well it should heal just fine. But with that said, it will take up to four months possible six.” You didn't even try to suppress your groan as you rubbed your hands down your face.

Bruce shot you a sympathetic smile as you begrudgingly thanked him. He nodded before dismissing himself turning to exit the room. You watched as he left, a pout permanently set on your lips as you frowned at the cast yet again. Four months you would have to deal with this stupid cast. Four whole months!  At minimum! You didn't know how the hell you were going to deal with this. You had the literal worst luck in the world.

The door opened once more, creeping slowly as a sheepish Bucky entered the room. His eyes widened slightly as he caught sight of the cast on your leg. He felt guilty, so incredibly guilty. His mind was racing with numerous ways he thought he could at least try to make it up to you. You watched him walk towards your bed, crossing your arms over your chest. You definitely were not mad with him - he couldn't have controlled what just happened. No, you were more evidently infuriated with the fact that you were so so close to finally capturing his lips in a kiss but the opportunity was ripped away from you leaving you temporarily restricted to this hospital bed.

“I am so so-” you threw your hand up, your mouth twisting into a grimace. Bucky cast a pitying look in your direction, his words halting at your movements as he caught his lower lip between his teeth. As much as you were frustrated, you couldn't help but let your eyes wander staring intently at his lips wondering for what seemed like the millionth time, what it would be like for them to be pressed up against your skin. Your thoughts inevitably prompted a growing blush to crawl up your cheeks and neck, as you stubbornly turned your head in the opposite direction, too exasperated to deal with anything.

“Darlin’-” he stopped again, as he paused momentarily before the bed. Instinctively, he would normally sit by your hips when you were laying down, but given your current ‘predicament’ he didn't know what to do with himself.

“Please look at me, Y/N, you have no idea how guilty I feel right now. Please, its eating me alive. I’m so sorry doll.” At the desperation that was evident in his voice, you looked at him again, eyeing his crestfallen face and the way he was wringing his hands.

Sighing softly and offering him a smile you pulled him closer by his hand. “I’m sorry Bucky, I'm overacting slightly. Just I feel like the BFG with this thing on my foot right now.” You patted the spot next to, shuffling over to the best of your ability to make space for him beside you. Slowly, he sat down peering at your leg once again evidently confused.

“Don’t laugh at me, but . . . what’s a BFG?” You couldn't suppress the giggle that surpassed your lips even if you tried, not missing the way Bucky pouted.

“Hey,” he whined but didn't reject you when you rested yourself against his chest, entwining your fingers like they were this morning. “But no, I'm really sorry doll, I just freaked out and it was Sam- of all people it had to be Sam. That moron just knows how to get under my skin and you wouldn't believe what he’s telling everyone! I mean-” You smiled at his rambling, looking up at him as he glared at the wall.

You laughed again cutting him off, bringing his hand closer to you. “S’alright Buck. I’ll live. I've definitely been through worse.” Your laughter was cut short when Buck turned to look down at you, not realising just how close the two of you were. His gaze repeatedly shifting between your eyes and your lips, inching closer to you.

You heart seemed to beat more widely than it did this morning as he placed his forehead once again on yours. He was so close. You could see just how bright his eyes were, noting the flecks of dark blue that were present in his irises. You placed your hand on his chest, noting the steady increase of Bucky’s heartbeat as he inched closer.

And as if life wanted to mess with you that little bit more, the door to your room flung open once more. “Y/N! Sorry ‘bout your leg an all but really Frosty? Seriously? Never woul- Barnes! Are you fu-” You didn't even glance up at Sam, as he abruptly entered. Bucky turned again, frustration evident in his expression as he glared at Sam, opening his mouth prepared to snap at him.

“Nope, not again.” you muttered, placing your hand on Bucky’s cheek and turning his face towards you, before bringing your lips together. You couldn't help the smile that fought its way onto your lips as Bucky reciprocated your affection. Ignoring Sam’s outbursts and protestant yelling, you sighed contently as Bucky pulled you closer, his hand returning to its original position as he weaved his fingers through your hair. His lips caressed your own in a way that left you dizzy and ecstatic, euphoria seeping through your body as you finally got to kiss man that you had fallen smitten for.

You felt your stomach knot as his hadn't trailed down to your hip, caressing the skin on your back beneath his hoodie that you were still wearing, a shiver creeping down your back. He smiled in response in utter bliss, unable to grasp the fact that you were there pressed agains his body, your arms wound around his neck. Eventually you pulled away, but not completely, your breaths mingling together, smiling giddily at one another.

“See! I told you! Look at them! Pay up Rogers.” You didn't even notice Sam had left but now the room was filled with the team, knowing smiles cast in your direction as they took in your position.

You turned confusedly to watch Steve dig through his pocket before slapping a few bills in Sam’s awaiting palm.”

“What the hell?” Bucky voiced your thoughts, as he two watched the interaction equally perplexed. “You were betting on us?”

“No,” Sam began, grinning at Bucky as he scowled “We were betting on how long it would take you to grow a pair and become a man.”

You couldn't help but giggle at the way his frown deepened, burying your face in Bucky’s shoulder. But at your actions, the scowl was replaced with a wide smile, feeling nothing pure ecstasy as he finally had you, the girl of his dreams, in his arms. You felt your cheeks heat up as Bucky stared down at you, blushing furiously when he pressed his lips again against yours, laughing lightly as the others let out a groan. You smiled profusely when Bucky sighed, resting his chin on top of your head, watching as Natasha urged everyone to leave the two of you alone not missing the wink she sent in your direction.

“I hope you know,” Bucky began moments later after many more chaste kisses, as the two of you indulged in each other’s company “that firstly, you're kinda stuck with me for a while now.”

“That’s perfectly fine by me.” Your grinned again, kissing him again. He smiled in return, moving his lips against your slowly as though he was savouring the moment. “And secondly?” You asked, bringing your hand up to move the strands of hair that escaped his bun and fell on his forehead.

“Oh! Secondly,” Bucky began with a sly grin on his face. “I hope you also know, that I am undeniably and completely in love with you doll.”

You giggled like a love-struck teenage girl, resting your hand on his cheek, admiring the twinkle that lit up his eyes. “I love you too,” you confessed, pecking his lips once more, “even though you kinda broke me.” You teasingly said, nudging your head in the direction where your leg laid limply.

Bucky groaned, but knew you were only teasing. “Would a Disney marathon make up for it? With chocolate? And pizza?” Bucky smiled hopefully, his grin growing when you nodded and buried yourself in his chest once again.

“It’s a start.” You joked, closing your eyes and beaming to yourself.

Bucky sighed softly, resting his cheek against the top of your head. “I love you darlin’” he mumbled.

“I love you too.”

Maybe your luck wasn’t so bad after all.

[prosciuttoe]

Hi! So for the prompt thing, I recently just watched raiders of the lost ark and I could definitely see bellamy as an adventuring archaeologist/professor OR doing like a type of the mummy au except where bellamy is the librarian and clarke is his guide....or something? idk up to you completely if you feel like writing something along those lines. Thanks!

A|N: I decided to go with archaeologist!Bellamy, or to be more accurate, palentologist!Bellamy because I’m such a sucker for Jurassic Park. 

__________________________

Generally, Bellamy’s job description doesn’t involve dealing with billionaires and their hotshot lawyers, and yet here they are.

“For the last time,” he huffs, his arm curling instinctively around her waist to haul her away from the excavation site, “I’m really not interested in advocating some theme park for extinct animals, okay?”

“Dinosaurs,” the girl- Clarke, he reminds himself- tells him, her mouth twisting into a frown. “And why wouldn’t you? Look, I don’t know what you’ve been told, but Jurassic Park is going to be a revolutionary experience. Thelonious Jaha has—”

“Jurassic Park?” he manages, a derisive laugh escaping. “Yeah, that’s the final nail in the coffin. I’m not advocating anything that sounds as if they sell brachiosaurus shaped churros out front.”

The crinkle between her brows deepens at that, and he tries not to appear too smug at having gotten to her. “It’s actually triceratops shaped, and they’re marshmallows.”

“So you guys couldn’t even get churros? That’s rough.”

She spins on her heel, stepping cleanly into his path and forcing him to stop short. “Look, Dr. Blake. You’re leaving this site in about two weeks, right?”

He stares, biding his time as he weighs the possible ways in which she could twist his answer into a less than ideal situation for him. Fucking lawyers.

“Yeah,” he says with exaggerated slowness, bracing himself for a fight. “So what?”

“So,” she goes, mimicking his tone, “tie up your loose ends, and I’ll personally escort you down to Isla Nublar after, where I’m sure Thelonious will be more than happy to discuss the possibility of funding your paleontological dig for the next three years.”

It’s hard to conceal his shock at that, though he does try his damn hardest. Dusting his hands off on his pants, he pretends to consider it for all about three seconds before he bites out, “It’ll be about two weeks.”

The obnoxious tilt of her chin makes him feel as if she’s the one issuing the challenge, instead. “Fine.”

“It means you’re going to have to stay here on site for two weeks, Princess.” He sneers, deliberately running his gaze from the office blouse she has tucked into her pencil skirt down to the delicate heels strapped around her ankles. “Sure you can handle it?”

Her smile is saccharine sweet; practiced. “I don’t think I’m going to be much of a problem, Dr. Blake.”

It’s impossible to miss the little jibe she made there, but Bellamy decides to let it slip anyway. “If you’re sure, Ms. Griffin.” He smirks, accompanying it with a mocking bow. “Make yourself at home.”

+

He catches her trying (valiantly) to pitch a tent a few hours after; heels sinking in the sand and immaculate updo a mess on the top of her head.

“Shouldn’t someone tell her,” Miller interjects, mild, “that we have trailers to stay in?”

“Nah,” he grins, watching as the unsecured poles sway and clatter back to the ground, her frustrated half-shout lost in the wind. “I think she’s having fun. Maybe it’ll help dislodge the stick up her butt.”

The look Miller shoots his way is pointed. “You do realize that this is the girl that’s supposed to assist us with getting funded for the next couple of years, right?”

“Uh huh.”

“So shouldn’t we be making sure that she gets out of this alive?” he goes, exasperated. “And like, make her experience here as pleasant as possible? Considering she’s the one with the connections to Jaha?”

He can’t help the snort that escapes at that, directing his attention back to the chisel in his hand. “She’s just a messenger. Plus, I’m pretty sure he’ll give us the funding as long as I give their stupid theme park five stars on Yelp, or something.”

“Right,” Miller nods, thoughtful. Then in a voice that’s way too innocent for his liking, “So, it’s not likely that she’ll rescind the invitation at all, right?”

“Not when they need me.” He snaps, though he can’t help sneaking a quick peek over at her. She’s gotten the poles secured this time, at least, though she seems to be struggling to get it upright with the howling of the wind. The look of grim determination on her face would be comical, if he didn’t already know how brutal the winds could get at this time of the year.

Scowling, Bellamy rubs at his face, gets to his feet. “Don’t start,” he mutters darkly, stomping over to her and flipping Miller off when he begins to laugh.

+

Surprisingly enough, she doesn’t stay cooped up in her trailer like he expects her to.

It’s not like he wants to notice her, really, but she tends to be a conspicuous presence; all infectious, lilting laugh and bright hair gleaming under the sunlight. It takes her a matter of days to charm almost everyone else on site, which annoys him for reasons that he can’t really fathom. Even Raven has taken to her, for fuck’s sake, and she hates about ninety eight percent of the entire human population.

(Fine, maybe he’ll admit that it’s a little unnerving that she’s turned this supposed charm on for everyone else but him. Not that he’s keeping track, or anything, but considering the way she glared at him when he helped himself to second servings this morning? Yeah. Nothing’s changed on that front.)

He’s dusting off what possibly might be a velociraptor skull when she plops down next to him, drawing her knees up to her chest. “Dr. Blake.”

“Griffin,” he says tightly, sparing her a quick glance before getting back to work. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Not much,” she shrugs, running her fingers idly over the series of brushes he has lined up next to him. “I just came over to see what you’re working on.”

Arching a brow over at her, he sets his brush down on his knee. “I didn’t think you were interested in fossils.”

“I’m a lawyer for someone who’s opening up a dinosaur-themed amusement park,” she says, in a voice that suggests the statement be followed up with a pointed duh. “You’d think I’ll do that if I had no interest in dinosaurs whatsoever?”

“Honestly?” he snorts, raking his gaze over her once more. She’s changed, though he’s pretty sure the clothes aren’t hers from the way they hug to her every curve. Her skin is pink from the sun, a splattering of freckles evident against the side of her jaw, and he tries not to think about how nice she looks with her hair loose. “Yeah, probably. I don’t have a very high opinion of lawyers.”

That pulls a disgruntled noise from her. “Oh, yeah. You definitely kept that under wraps. Couldn’t tell at all.”

“Shut up,” he grouses, bumping his elbow against hers. “Besides, it’s not like you made the best first impression. You came down in a copter, which disrupted our work for an whole hour. You started off your pitch by telling me how lucky I was to be hand-picked by Jaha.”

Clarke makes a noise of mock-outrage at that, slapping at his arm lightly. “Please. I had a script to follow, okay? I didn’t think you’d take it that personally.”

“Well, I’m really in touch with my feelings.”

“Duly noted,” she deadpans, rolling her eyes at him. “Though to be entirely honest, Jaha wasn’t the one who picked you. I did.”

He frowns, turning over to look at her. “You did?”

“Yeah.” She says briskly, averting her gaze. “I looked at a bunch of files, and I thought you were the best candidate. I mean, you weren’t under consideration before, but I added you in because of the paper you wrote, and—”

“You read my papers?” he laughs, grinning when her cheeks pink in response.

“Fine, I did.” She mumbles, folding her hands in her lap. “So, uhm. Maybe your paper on viewing dinosaurs as cultural icons is what made me decide to approach Jaha in the first place.”

It’s a little hard to keep his smile from showing at this point, and he finds himself trying to catch her eye despite her sudden shyness at being caught out. “Wow. I can’t believe my own impact, sometimes.”

“It was a really well-written paper,” she argues, crossing her arms over her chest. Then, a little dramatically, “Too bad the author is kind of a dick.”

Whistling, he picks the brush up once more, twirling it between his fingers cockily. “You’re just mad because you revealed yourself to be one of my groupies.”

“You wish, Bellamy Blake.”

The rest of the afternoon passes exactly like this; bickering and talking and maybe a little flirting, too, and by the end of it, he’ll willingly admit that maybe he can see the appeal that Clarke Griffin has going for her.

(Okay fine, he definitely gets the appeal now.)

+

He doesn’t object when she starts joining them during digs, snapping photos or dusting off fossils right alongside him; her brows furrowed in concentration and tongue poking out from between teeth. Besides, she’s pretty helpful, and it’s nice for him to be able to talk about his discoveries at length without worrying about boring her. She starts joining him during mealtimes, too, always settling in next to him like she belongs there; to the point where he starts looking for her when she doesn’t show up.

If he was being totally and entirely honest with himself, he’d admit that they’re sort of- kind of- friends, now. Or fun work colleagues, at least.

It’s probably why he can’t help feeling a little excited about the whole Jurassic Park venture, even though he’s willingly spending hours stranded in a tiny, cramped helicopter. Swallowing, he adjusts at his seatbelt; his pulse skipping erratically when she reaches over to adjust the headphones clamped over his ears, grinning.

“Ready for this, Dr. Blake?”

He’s not sure what possesses him to say it, really, but he finds himself telling her, “It’s Bellamy, okay? Just— stop being all formal, already.”

Her grin is fucking blinding under the light of the rapidly setting sun, and he’s not sure if the swoop he feels in his stomach is in reaction to her or the jerk of the copter as it begins to ascend in the sky.

“Clarke,” she says, mock-solemn, a small smile playing on her lips as she offers her hand out to shake. “And now we have that out of the way— you ready to go?”

He can’t help squeezing at her palm when he slides his fingers against hers; warm and reassuring and filled with some sort of possibility that makes him grin stupidly at her. “Bombs away, Clarke.”