#everyone is saying people who were disappointed and still are are embarrassing and fake fans

[beyblade-champion-coolatta]

to be honest i think i just might not engage with this fandom anymore.

[notafunkiller]

cringey, embarrassing and tacky - this whole "relationship" has made me look at seb in a different light, allowing this talentless "influencer/part time actress" to piggyback off his success just makes me sad.

It disappoints me he is so desperate for awards that he does this. It's not surprising, but still... he is so talented and hard working, and he can do other types of PR.

I fully agree with what both of you said (anon and blog host) If you believe the rumors & Annabelle is Sebs PR to clean up all the negatives attached to him from his previous PR Ale (if you believe that was PR too) it just looks really bad on Seb. Because it’s 2 girls back to back to have too many similarities & leeching tendencies. Although I believe Annabele is far worse because she’s more manipulative & calculating about it, it looks bad for Seb to date 2 women back to back who are so similar in many ways. Makes it seems like that’s his type and that maybe he was wearing a mask before. Like now he’s made it big the masks are coming off and he’s into vain, superficial, fame hungry socialites. It’s very disheartening to see when he’s so talented and doesn’t need this kind of PR (if it is PR).

Either way, real or fake, it definitely makes me question who the real Seb is. Like is he really as nice and sweet as everyone says. Yeah people on set say he is too but he’s working, we all wear a mask at work too, to some extent. The fact he’s chosen 2 very similar women to allow so close to him (even meeting his mom) makes me wonder if this could really be his type and we’ve all been duped into thinking he’s a sweetheart but he’s actually more like these women he’s dating than we realize. 😔

I think there is a huge difference between Ale and Annabelle, though... the personality.

Ale displays hers publicly in posys amd doesn't need to show 47457 freebies she gets, yl what I mean?

I saw she is respected in Spain for modeling... I watched Alta Mar and I actually enjoyed it (before they got together) so she is not a bad actress at all. Much better than Annabelle at least.

I do not think it was PR with Ale. Did they do PR together? Of course!

But it's interesting she visited Romania twice long after the break up, too.

Yes, she had problematic behaviour, and his fandom nade sure to go wild on her, yet they stay silent on Annabelle and praise her for things Ale would've been hated. If she had done half of the things Annabelle does, they would write letters like Chris Evans' fans.

But Sebastian's behaviour speaking, with Ale he really seemed really happy (just like he was with Margarita and Leighton) and so much younger and fresh despite working quite a lot. With Annabelle his behaviour shows that he does not like her or if they were together for real... that he is a very crappy boyfriend since he turned 40 bc who would want this trashy treatment besides the people who ship them?!

The difference between how he treated Margarita and Ale vs Annabelle is huge. Look how he treated Daisy (and Annabelle and him were together already)!

If this is how he treats his real girlfriends now (as in how he treats Annabelle), he is 😬, but I doubt someone can change his behaviour so drastically overnight.

Of course we do not know him personally, but it's sad to see such desperation, especially since he has such talent and he's hard working. The fact he wants to get an Oscar (which is so meaningless in a way since the lobby and the academy are the way they are) so badly that is willing to sacrifice many things is really sad.

Also, I do not think the self help books he reads are good at all or meaningful amd they do not seem to help him. I tried reading a few he recommended and they are not giving info for real. Atomic Habits, Dopamine Nation etc are surface types of books. If these are the books his therapist suggests then 😬.

[phantomrose96]

Fenton Fact

Danny leaned back against the red brick chimney of the Casper High roof, and he looked across the stretch of land rolling far off from the building top. For a place so off-limits, so hidden-away from the normal bustle of the school, the view really wasn’t anything special. Sure, the school was decently tall, but it overlooked the staff parking lot, and the empty Casper High tennis courts, and the back of a strip mall two blocks over with the recently-haunted laundromat.

Not that it mattered. It took more than tall-building-views to impress Danny anyway, even the nice ones. And he wasn’t up here for the view.

Danny let his eyes drift shut.

“Sup loner, room for one more?”

Danny startled, and it wasn’t Sam’s voice specifically that startled him. (He’d grown used to her bursting from his Fenton Phone earpiece during most nightly patrols.) He’d just lulled himself a bit too comfortably into the idea that no other human could follow him to the top of the locked rooftop of the Casper High building.

“Did I just surprise a ghost?” Sam asked. “Should I do it again with a ‘boo’?”

“Haha,” Danny answered with a fake chuckle. He blinked himself back to prickly awareness, drowsiness batted away like dust bunnies, and stared up at Sam. “I’m not surprised. I just wasn’t expecting anyone else to be on the roof. How did you even—”

Sam was a few steps ahead of him. In explanation, she waggled the Fenton-branded grappling hook gripped in hand.

Danny leaned back with a faux-exasperated sigh. “Since when do you even have a grappling hook?”

“Since I told your mom it would be a wildly cool line of gear to add to the Fenton brand.”

“Does this mean my mom now has a grappling hook too?”

“Yes. And your dad. And Jazz. And Tucker.”

“Great. When I go home and all the ceiling fans are torn down I’ll know why.”

A gentle silence lapsed over them, punctuated with the swell of fall wind.

“So…” Sam continued. “Can I sit here?”

“Huh?” Danny looked at her, anchoring his drifting thoughts once more. “Oh, yeah. I thought the ‘yeah’ was implied.” Danny shuffled a bit to the side, back still resting against the chimney. He patted the spot he cleared. “What am I gonna tell you? No?”

“Just making sure.” Sam stowed the grappling hook to the side of her belt and settled into the spot beside Danny, feet outstretched. “In case maybe you wanted some alone time.”

“’Alone time’ isn’t really something I get anymore. I’ve had about a hundred-too-many ghosts crash through my bedroom for that.”

“So why the roof?”

“Roof is more for uh…” Danny twirled his hand, “‘less adoring crowds’ time. ‘Less classmates ogling me’ time. You can stay so long as you don’t ask me to sign anything.”

“I was never interested in the parasocial or capitalistic value of celebrity signatures. Besides, you cross your ‘t’s weird.”

Danny replied with a half-hearted chuckle. His line of sight drifted into the middle-distance again, unfocused.

“Is it getting to be too much?” Sam asked.

“Hmm?” Danny answered, eyes shifting back to her.

Sam gestured broadly, hands and arms outstretched. “You know just. All this. Everything.”

“…Nah.”

Another small silence grew from the cracks in the concrete between them.

“Paulina and Star are looking for you. You know that, right?”

“Oh, are they?”

“Danny. You knew that.”

“Maybe.”

“…And you’re not interested in seeing what they want?”

“I figure Tucker is keeping them busy.”

“You’re unfortunately right.”

“Phantom Phacts?”

“Phantom Phacts.” Sam nodded. “I made him promise to leave out any embarrassing trivia from the trivia section.”

“Thanks for that,” Danny answered. “Is his presentation any good?”

“You think I’ve ever stuck around to hear it?”

“Fair.”

Sam pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs and set her chin to her knees, staring forward.

“You’re really not interested in sitting with Star and Paulina for lunch?”

“Not really. Why? Is that bad?”

“No, it’s absolutely great. But I’m…” Sam shrugged, “surprised, I guess. I feel like usually you’d jump at the opportunity. And I kinda don’t think you’re refusing because you’ve suddenly recognized the banality of A-lister status.”

“Maybe that is what happened, you don’t know that. Down with capitalism, Sam.”

“Danny.” Sam tilted a fraction to face him. “I’m worried that this is all too much for you, and you just won’t admit it.”

Danny sat with the silence that followed. “I don’t think it’s too much. I’m just—I dunno. I mean. I’m just not feeling it.”

“…You can admit if it’s overwhelming, Danny. I’ll be the first to shut down ‘Phantom Phacts’ if it is.”

“Nah, nah let Tucker have his fun. He’s not the problem. It’s… I dunno.” Danny pushed himself taller against the chimney, upright now and unslumped. “It’s a little bit overwhelming, I guess, maybe. But it’s kind of what I expected. Maybe even a little easier than I was expecting. I thought I’d be dealing with a lot of Phantom-hate once everyone knew but, I guess that kind of died down a long time before everyone knew.”

“Valerie holding you at gunpoint in the cafeteria wasn’t Phantom-hate?”

“We’ve had a lot of good talks since then, okay?”

Sam let out a quiet laugh. “So then… why aren’t you sitting with the popular kids right now?”

“I just didn’t want to, I guess?”

“And why didn’t you want to?”

“It just didn’t really feel right.”

“Is it because of me?” Sam asked, another side-long glance cast to Danny. “Because you can sit with them. I’ll still make fun of you if you do, but you don’t have to… not sit with them because of me.”

“What? Huh—no. Nah, nah I mean I do care what you think Sam. But I mean if I wanted to be sitting with them then I would so. I mean. You don’t have to worry that it’s you.”

“So then what is it?”

Danny took a moment to answer.

“It’s just… it’s a feeling. I dunno. Like.” Danny spread his arms out. “The invitation is wrong? Or the invitation isn’t actually for me?”

“…The invitation is for Phantom instead?”

Pensive indecision set into Danny’s eyes. “That’s not totally it. Because I mean I AM Phantom. I’m not not me when I’m Phantom. Maybe I trash-talk a little more in ghost form but I’m not… not me. That’s still just me. You know that.”

“Right, yeah, no Danny. It just sounded like that’s what you were saying.” Sam let her legs slide out a few inches. “So what are you saying?”

Danny sat with the question. “When the news first picked up on Phantom, way back when—Inviso-Bill?—that wasn’t really anyone, you know? They made up some spooky icon to make the news about. Which was just like, whatever, not me. I didn’t even take ‘Inviso-Bill’ too personally because that just wasn’t me. And even when I stopped being an enemy and started actually being ‘Danny Phantom’… no one actually got it right, you know? They kind of came up with a character for me. Just some hero. I listen to the news and how they talk about me and I think, even now, I think ‘That isn’t me.’”

Danny pulled his knees in, a mirror to Sam, and stared down into his tattered jean fabric. “And when everyone learned I’m Phantom I guess I kind of expected them to be like ‘Oh it’s Fenton’ and then that fake version of Phantom would go away.” Danny raised his eyes to Sam, far more bothered than before. “…I think the opposite happened. They don’t look at Phantom and think ‘oh it’s Fenton’. They look at Fenton and think ‘oh it’s Phantom.’ I think Danny Fenton got put away. I think the person I was for 14 years doesn’t exist to them anymore. Whoever they invited to lunch isn’t me. He doesn’t exist. But I’m suddenly responsible for him. And it’s not even me.”

Danny paused. “And now I’ve been wondering like… how long until I disappoint them? You know? How long until I do something that makes them angry because I’m not doing the thing they expect ‘Phantom’ to do? How long until they start seeing there’s too much ‘Fenton’ in me and they start to hate me for it all over again? For them to really like me, I don’t think I can be me, and I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know how to be someone who doesn’t just disappoint everyone in the end.”

A long gust of wind swept between them, stealing away the seconds.

“…So now you’re hiding on the roof.”

“It was the easiest solution to my problem.”

“But not a lasting one, if you ever want to get down.” The wind settled, and Sam swept a lock of hair behind her ear. “…Do you care if you disappoint them?”

Danny shrugged. “I. Yeah. I think. I don’t—I don’t think I totally know for certain, but I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

“Well, you’re not going to disappoint me, or Jazz, or Tucker—and if Tucker does act disappointed over any lost Phantom Phacts ventures I’ll whap him over the head. But I mean, we know who you are. We’re not going to be disappointed realizing you’re not ‘Phantom.’ The worst you can do is land right back where you started.”

“And what if I started acting like ‘Phantom’ instead. Would that disappoint you guys?”

“Do you want to act like ‘Phantom’?”

Danny paused. “…No. Not at all.”

“Then don’t. It’s that simple.” Sam stood, and she stretched until her back popped. “It’s not your responsibility to uphold whatever delusions people project onto you. I won’t hesitate to call them out on it. You know I’m good at being direct, and you know I’m even better at making enemies.”

“I don’t wanna be mean to them though when they’re finally being nice.”

“They’re not being nice, they’re projecting. If their niceness to you is conditional on you fitting to the box they created for you, that’s not nice, that’s manipulation, and it’s exactly the root of my ever-frothing disdain for popularity. It’s always some element about popular people that people latch on to, and they can fit the box that people give them, or they can reject it and find themselves wallowing amongst us outcasts. Don’t do that to yourself, Danny. Don’t live in their chains.” Sam tilted her head to Danny. “You spend all day trapping ghosts into tight little boxes and you can’t even recognize when it’s happening to you. I think you’d be better at spotting this.”

“It’s a cylinder, really. The thermos. It’s a cylinder. And don’t say ‘box’ so much. You might summon company.”

“You just said ‘box’ though.”

“I did say ‘box’.”

“Box.”

“Box.”

Sam laughed, noise trailing light on her lips. “…Feeling any better?”

“A little, I think… I still… I still think I... it's not as easy to just say 'I don't care if I disappoint them.' It's still scary. I don’t want to end up proving them right that they were right to hate me all along.”

“Are the opinions of Dash Baxter really the ones to be holding on a pedestal? Is his opinion of you really more important than what you think of yourself? You’ve been through this with the A-listers already. Don’t torture yourself again just because the door is wide open. I promise you Danny, it won’t make you happy.”

“So I should just do whatever makes me happy?”

“Every time.” Sam nodded.

"Even if I'm a total disappointing loser?"

"All the better."

"Even if I blow any chance I have with Paulina out the window?"

“Wouldn't have it any other way. Got any idea what you intend to say to her when she finds you?”

Danny paused. He pushed himself standing. “Maybe I could talk her ear off about NASA until she gets bored of me?”

“Excellent. Can I join? I have a lot to say about SpaceX and private capital encroaching on space exploration.”

“Does that apply to me? I’ve been to space. Am I private capital?”

“You’re not private capital.”

“Then what am I?”

“Annoying.” Sam locked arms with Danny, and dragged him along forward, her combat boots clunking against the rooftop. “And my friend. Come on. I’ll brief you on everything wrong with privately-owned space exploration while we’re rappelling down the side of the building with my sick and cool as hell grappling hook.”

“I can fly.”

“And I have a sick grappling hook. What’s your point.”

“It’s probably called a ‘Fenton Hook.’”

“Is that a Phantom Phact?”

Danny shook his head, and a smile pulled on his lips. “Nah. I think it’s a Fenton Fact.”

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 22 part one

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff) (Previous Post)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Not Quite Like Old Times

We ended the previous episode in daylight, with Lan Wangji putting Wei Wuxian and swordpoint and declaring his undying love lecturing him about his lack of sword skills.

We start this episode in full night, with the two of them sitting on a roof together. Presumably they spent the missing scenes getting dinner in the mess hall, doing some laundry, and definitely not making out. Fic writers, do your thing.

Finally, FINALLY, Lan Wangji has chilled out enough to actually sit and listen to Wei Wuxian, instead of yelling at and/or physically attacking him. The Zoloft is really helping!

Wei Wuxian is indulging in romantic recollections of their first rooftop encounter. Lan Wangji, who has loved him since he first laid eyes on him and who wrote a whole song with an entire music video about their love, featuring that very same rooftop encounter, shuts him down so completely he might as well have whipped out Bichen again.

First he corrects his description of events by pointing out they were fighting, not talking, back then. Then when Wei Wuxian continues in his charming, smiley reminiscing vein, Lan Wangji says "things change, how could they stay the same" with a deep, sad, weariness.

He seems like an old man in this moment, and I feel for him, really, I do. But he's not the one who's carrying the actual essence of death around inside him. Wei Wuxian is being much more generous in this interaction than Lan Wangji is.

Wei Wuxian thanks him for not narkng to Jiang Yanli about the whole talisman/forced suicide/ghost hummer/ghost flaying thing he did back in Yiling. Like there is any way Lan Wangji would ever tell Jiang Yanli, of all people, something like that about Wei Wuxian.  He's lying to his own brother to cover for Wei Wuxian, and Wei Wuxian totally doesn't get it.

(more after the cut)

Unfortunately, there's no reason Wei Wuxian SHOULD get it, at this point; Lan Wangji has not communicated anything but disapproval to him since his return, and Wei Wuxian, despite their (apparently temporary) mental linkup in the Turtle cave, is not a mind reader.

Lan Wangji is so hurt here, and Wei Wuxian appears to ignore that, continuing to smile and laugh; he’s still sunny, still happy. Seriously, they are so tonally out of step with each other in this conversation, it's excruciating.

Lan Wangji: I’m feeling good about my tear-holding-back ability Wei Wuxian: do I look more fuckable sitting up? Or leaning back?  

But every one of these smiles is an absolute lie. This is Wei Wuxian appeasing an authority figure; baffling with bullshit and skating by on charm. This is not a young man confiding in his soulmate.

Even when the conversation shifts, and they talk seriously about what is going on with him, Wei Wuxian is barely confiding anything. He briefly acknowledges that he was in the Burial Mounds for three months, and shudders at the memory, but Lan Wangji doesn't respond to that other than to look away from his face.

This is almost the last thing Wei Wuxian will ever say to anyone about that experience.  He only alludes to it again when Jiang Cheng visits the settlement and talks smack about their corpse turnips. Lan Wangji says he wants to know why Wei Wuxian’s cultivation changed, but he really doesn’t; he just wants to convince him to change it back.

Wei Wuxian explains about using Lan clan techniques to protect his temperament, as well as the flute and talismans, to control the resentful energy. This is a good reminder that Wei Wuxian was never a bad student. He was an outstanding cultivator within the Jiang Clan, and he learned a hell of a lot during his time in Gusu, despite getting expelled for fighting.

His original golden core was stronger than Jiang Cheng's, even though he apparently started cultivating later. Yes, he fell asleep during meditation that one time in Episode 43, but that's not because he's bad at meditating, it's because he was tired from getting railed all night by his boyfriend stabbed in the gut by his nephew.

Lan Wangji eventually manages to ask him a question like an interested fellow human being sharing knowledge, instead of like an authoritarian dick calling him to account.  

Side note: I still am flopping around trying to find good-sounding English terms for Chinese philosophical concepts. I kind of like "ghost path" vs "sword path" for the two styles of cultivation - I don't know where I saw that, apologies to the translator. I like "necromancy" for the part where the dead are reanimated and controlled, because we definitely have that in English. But there are many layers of nuance in these conversations that English is not equipped to render in a natural-sounding way.

Lan Wangji tells him, again, that it's dangerous, but this time he does it in a gentler and more poetic way, saying it's like taking grain from a burning fire, and says he's in danger of becoming the novel version of Wei Wuxian a demonic cultivator.  Wei Wuxian, also gently and seriously, says he knows.

Then he immediately goes back to his lightest tone and promises, with his three-fingers gesture, that he will not fall into demonic cultivation. This gesture is basically the Wei Wuxian "I am totally fucking lying" salute.

He is totally fucking lying, and he MUST know it. He's baking the Yin tiger amulet every day during his meditation, getting ready to use it against Wen Ruohan, getting ready to take over his army of the dead.

He has the audacity to ask Lan Wangji, "do you believe me?" and Lan Wangji, also totally fucking lying, nods.  Their relationship is just as broken right now as it was before their courtyard sparring session.

You can tell it's broken, because after they've reached this apparent place of peace, Wei Wuxian just hops down off the roof and LEAVES Lan Wangji sitting by himself. When has Wei Wuxian ever been like "gotta go!" with Lan Wangji? The last time they were here, he spent the night sleeping on the roof tiles just so he could be near him.

As he leaves, Lan Wanji stands up and says "let me help you." Wei Wuxian is not a fan of that idea, at all, if his expression is any guide.

He agrees, though, and leaves smiling, apparently for real, but maybe just practicing for all the fake smiles in his future.

Hooray for War

In the morning, Nie Mingjue makes an angry speech to the 2 dozen cultivators who apparently make up the army. Extras are expensive, y'all.

The senior cultivators are standing to the right or left of him, with the Lan brothers bracketing the Yunmeng sibs. Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng are both staking their claim to Wei Wuxian, while Lan Xichen is standing in the spot closest to Nie Mingjue; Nie Huaisang is on the opposite side with the Jins.

All of the random cultivators yell a war chant in response to Nie Mingjue's speech, while the senior cultivators are like, we don't have to do that yelling stuff, thank goodness.

Nie Mingjue's war outfit includes metal (ish) epaulets on his shoulders and a totally not-kinky belt featuring multiple rings with nothing attached to them (yet) and an angry demon face right above his junk.

Nie Mingjue says we're going to storm into Nightless city and I'm going to chop off Wen Ruohan's head! By which he means, I'm going to get captured and get my ass beat, and then my murder-babie ex-boyfriend who had this belt specially made for me is going to stab Wen Ruohan in the back while he's distracted. They do say no plan survives contact with the enemy.

Side note: Baxia makes a loud metallic "shnk" noise when NMJ takes it off his back during this speech, even though Baxia does not have a scabbard. You do you, Baxia.

All the senior cultivators file out down the center while everyone else parts to let them pass. Then everybody does the Electric Slide.

Jiang Cheng tells Wei Wuxian they should go ahead of the main force to get some killing in early, but Wei Wuxian just pulls a face and looks down, staying with Lan Wangji. 

Jiang Cheng is disappointed, and no doubt takes this as a sign of WWX choosing LWJ over him. But actually, WWX can't fight side-by-side with Jiang Cheng without showing his weakness.

LWJ and WWX exchange one of their unspoken "let's go" eye touches and get ready to ride out together with the main force. 

Lan Wangji is still super, super sad. Wei Wuxian is still fake. But something is starting to knit together between them, and once they can hit a battlefield together, it will get a lot stronger.

On A Horse With No Name

Everyone rides out on horses, which will presumably get eaten somewhere along the way, because they appear to travel on foot after this. While Wei Wuxian practices his horseback-flute-twirling, Lan Wangji asks why Wei Wuxian didn't go with the forward force to fight.

Wei Wuxian says that he has a case of the don'wannas, and Lan Wangji snarkily points out that he used to like fighting. Wei Wuxian reacts, just as he did at the end of their sword fight, with embarrassment, and doesn't answer.

Lan Wangji, sweetie. You are really not helping. 

At this point, despite their ongoing fighting, Wangxian are clearly together again. Lan Wangji isn't riding with his brother; he's RIGHT next to Wei Wuxian, and will stay close to him through the rest of the campaign.

Nie Huaisang hollers "Wei-Xiong" from the top of the battlements and tells him to take care. Wei-Xiong lifts his flute in acknowledgement while Nie Huaisang looks worried. He doesn't tell Nie Mingjue or Lan Wangji to take care, just Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian is his particular friend, more than Lan Wangji is, but he may also be concerned because he can tell that Wei Wuxian isn't well.

Nie Huaisang hasn't yet developed the deep cynicism that he calls upon in his quest to avenge his brother, but he has always been a voracious collector of information, and he is keenly observant.

Side note: what the fuck is going on with this sculpture? Kudos to the artist. This has beautiful forms, and is weird and disturbing. The main head is wearing a horned skull on its forehead, small ungulates that I hesitate to call “deer” chilling on its horns, and...snakes? biting its ears? 

Boring Wen Interlude

Wen Ruohan is waving his hands around. Sigh. This is one of the more boring villain performances ever, and it's not the actor’s fault. They could have given him a sidekick to yell at or something, so we could get more than just hand waving. I’ve given up screen capping any of this; there are more interesting things to look at. 

Battle Moves

Jin Zixuan and Jiang Cheng and their forces have an extended fight scene with a bunch of puppet dudes and stuntmen in harnesses. 

It's pretty fun to watch. (Fanvid with more over here)

The gist of the fighting scenes is that Wen Ruohan is getting stronger, and Klingons are hard to beat.

Battle Planning

Finally we see a sidekick with Wen Ruohan, although he's blurry so it's hard to tell that he is totally Meng Yao.

The Sunshotters have set up a Battle Camp Playset. It's got chunks of gates and walls that don't connect to anything, like a Duplo set. It's just randomly open for most of the back area so that anyone can walk in. 

They've got a cage of hilarious definitely-not-zombies set up, and the rest of the wounded cultivators are lying on the ground. 

The main battle trio go chill in Nie Mingjue's incredibly fancy tent. They talk it over and say it's impossible to kill unkillable enemies, "even when we have millions of troops." And by “millions” they mean “dozens.”  

Nie Mingjue decides the way to handle it is to kill the leader and everyone else will collapse, because he has watched vampire movies and the last season of Game of Thrones and that's how it works. Watching the last season of Game of Thrones is why he is so angry all the time  He says he's going to sneak into Nightless City and assassinate Wen Ruohan.

Okay, first of all, Nie Mingjue can sneak? I don't believe it.  Second of all, if that was possible, why didn't he do it as soon as Wen Ruohan attacked his clan?

Nie Mingjue wants to take the biggest risk because he's the commander in chief, which is not how commanding is supposed to work, but okay.

He says if he dies, Zewu Jun will take over. Jiang Cheng starts to protest but Zewu Jun appears as if conjured, and shows them a map that will...dear GOD his hands are beautiful.

It's a helpful map, painted in multiple colors with careful writing on it, so if anyone were to show it to Nie Huaisang he would probably go "oh cool Meng Yao painted that" because anyone who could paint that well probably spent a fair amount of time at it on a regular basis. But, Nie Huaisang isn't here so, nope.

It’s always nice to see Jiang Cheng smile.

Wei Wuxian and Lan Waniji examine some of the puppets to see what's up. It's transmitted by touch, and Lan Wangji says that curing one dude takes three months of spiritual power. Ain’t nobody got time for that.

Writing Prompt: Missing scene! How did they get from the fight in the courtyard to the talk on the roof? 

Soundtrack: 1. Shine on You Crazy Diamond, by Pink Floyd 2. Electric Boogie, by Marcia Griffiths

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

hello my favorite writer it is me again i was wondering if i could have another will imagine (gn as usual) and could it be about a reader who feels insecure about being wills partner because they’re still working on being famous and feel like they’re mooching off of wills fame and end up pushing him away slightly and it’s angsty, but ends in fluff with will finally telling them he loves them and reassuring kisses <3

Favorite writer?? You flatter me, darlin', but thank you!

Also, so sorry this took so long! I've been really unmotivated/lazy lately and I wanted to write this as perfect as I possibly could. Also also, ya know how the Powerpuff Girls were made? Sugar, spice, and everything nice but Chemical X was added accidently? Yeah, this is that, but replace Chemical X with a lot of angst. My bad.😬

WARNING: Depressing themes throughout

~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't often you felt insecure, but you figured it was just one of those days.

You hadn't been in many blockbuster films or tv shows, you were still working hard on your career. You loved the indie projects you worked on, you loved any job where you could act. It was your passion, after all.

You couldn't help feel a little bit insecure when your partner, Will, was where you aspired to be your whole life. He was brilliant, working with amazing people like Tom Hardy and Leonardo DiCaprio. So early in his career too. You looked up to Will so much, praying that you'd be just as talented as him one day. But you knew it wouldn't be easy, acting isn't exactly the easier job in the world, you knew it would take a lucky break.

You always joked that maybe you should work as a waiter in some restaurant, knowing that Edward Norton got his first movie role while working in such a place, only to move on to work beside the amazing Richard Gear.

It was just one day you felt bad about your career, but then it started to snowball into anxiety and depression. It got to the point where it was all you could think about, especially when you were out with Will. And you could tell that he knew something was up, the thousand yard stare that you often had was something that couldn't really go unnoticed.

But for the most part, you acted like everything was fine.

You hated that you let your insecurity pile on and on like this, it normally was something you could handle. You don't know what came over you, but you found yourself scrolling for hours looking at comments on any of your posts. Most people were supportive of you and Will's relationship, and you were thankful for that. But of course, there are always a few bad apples.

The wonderful and lovely, supportive comments were many, outweighing the hate by miles. But just one negative comment could throw you off, ruining your day.

You wished you could just focus on the positive, but unfortunately, that's not how brains are designed. It always has to point out a flaw, find that one odd man out, find the error in the system. Usually, most of those errors can be fixed. You spent your entire life trying to get people to like you, being somewhat of a pushover and a people pleaser, disregarding your own self in favor of praise. So seeing people online hating you for no other reason besides being with Will, seeing that they might never change their minds, it was devastating.

You knew that the hate would usually come from obsessed fans who must've been jealous of you, and you could understand that and it was fine. You remembered the younger years of being jealous of a person who dated your crush, it was something that most people grow out of thankfully. You could get over those comments, saying you weren't good looking enough or not fit enough, any comments about your appearance. The ones that really got to you was the comments about your "horrible" personality.

It was odd, people saying awful things about you when they didn't even know you at all. Most of the contradictory was were amusing. There was a point in time after your relationship with Will was made public, where you'd feel to nervous about going to red carpet events with him. The comments would say, "Y/n's not there with Will? What an unsupportive partner they must be!" or anything similar. But when you started to go with him sometimes, the comments would shift dramatically.

"Y/n's a gold digger."

"They're just using Will for his fame."

"He deserves better than that snake."

It hurt, more than you'd admit. You told Will it didn't bother you that much, just wrote it off that it's normal. Then, you never talked about it again.

You felt awful, every single day. Thoughts of self doubt clouding your brain constantly, thinking, "Am I really deserving of such a kind person like Will?" No matter how you looked at it, the answer was always no.

You started to feel like you shouldn't even be with Will anymore. There was most likely someone else out there, an actor with more talent and more self-sufficient than you were.

You and Will had been together for a couple years, you loved him so much, but when he asked you to move in with him, you said you weren't ready. The biggest lie you ever told, and you instantly regretted it when you saw the disappointed look on his face. But being the gentleman that he is, he said it was completely okay and that there was no pressure.

You absolutely didn't deserve him.

Every time Will asked you to go out with him, you always came up with an excuse to stay home. You felt too anxious about being out in public, the thought of a fan seeing you with Will brought you to the verge of a panic attack. You became distant, trying to distract yourself by throwing yourself into your work. You rarely saw Will anymore, and you knew if you kept up with how you were acting on your insecurity, you'd lose him. But you couldn't bring yourself to try and talk to him about it, you felt too embarrassed.

From Will's point of view, he thought you were becoming distant because of him. He wracked his mind trying to think what was it that he did to make you spend less time with him? At first, he thought, maybe you just needed some space. There were times where he needed to be alone, just like everyone does. But it felt like it was going on for too long. Every time he wanted to take you out somewhere nice, you'd politely decline and you'd opted for a night in.

There came a point where enough was enough, Will was determined to find out what was going on with you.

You stared at your cellphone, the screen lighting up with a picture of Will along with your set ringtone. You sighed, you really didn't feel like answering. You knew you should, but you couldn't bring yourself to. A feeling of dread washed over you, you didn't want him to think you hated him, yet you still couldn't. You rang your fingers through your hair, anxiously scratching your scalp harshly.

Your screen darkened, following with a notification, voicemail and text. "Y/n, what's going on? I've been trying...", you couldn't listen anymore.

"I'm sorry, Will..." You whispered to yourself, wrapping yourself up tightly in a blanket.

You almost screamed when you heard a rapid knock on your door, quickly tensing up when you heard Will call out from outside. "Y/n?"

You wanted to fucking scream.

"I know you're in there, just, please, talk to me."

The desperation in his voice forced you to get up from your couch, tossing away your cozy blanket with a huff. You shakily reached out and opened the door, Will's concerned face filling your view. "...hi."

Will chuckled bitterly. "Hi? That's it? You haven't talked to me in days. What's going on, love?"

"Nothing!" You explained, plastering on a fake smile with a chuckle.

Will smiled sadly. "You're lying." He said simply, pushing his way past you into your home.

"Will, please, I'm not up to talking right now."

"You know, I want to respect your wishes, I really do. But I feel that I've been patient. I've been trying to support you in any way that I can, but I can't help if I don't know what's going on." He sat down on your couch, pleading for you to sit next to him with his eyes. "We used to be open and honest with each other about everything. Tell me what's going on so I can help you."

You huffed, running your hands over your face. "It's not that simple..."

Will casted his gaze to your wooden floor, squeezing his hands together and taking a deep shaky breath. "Is it...is it because it's something I did?"

"What?"

"You're shutting me out. It's because of me, isn't it? I did something-"

"No." You quickly exclaimed, rushing over to his side when you heard his voice waver, taking ahold of one of his hands. "No, it's not you, I promise."

"Then...why? Why are you pushing me away?" Will sighed, biting his lip to keep himself from crying. "Do you not love me anymore?"

"I love you, Will, more than I can express." You chuckled bitterly. "It's hard to talk about."

Will brought a hand up to your face, gently brushing a freshly fallen tear off your face. "You can tell me anything, Y/n, anything."

You smiled weakly, bringing his hand you were holding up to your lips and kissed his knuckles softly. "Okay..." You took a deep breath.

"Take your time, love."

"Being with you, brings me so much happiness that it feels like I'm dreaming. You're so...amazing, and honestly the best and most kind person I've ever met. And I? I feel like I'm nobody."

"Y/n..."

"Compared to others, I'm no one. Just another person trying to live out their dreams that are so far fetched that it doesn't even seem possible to even come close to achieving them. You're so self assured that acting is what you were born to do and you're so talented. I envy you, and I feel so guilty feeling that way. Sometimes I feel like I wasn't meant to be an actor. I feel like...I'm trying to run towards my goal, but every time I make progress, the goal moves farther and farther away until I can't even see it anymore."

"Y/n," Will started softly, "I know how you feel. I've felt that way about my career too. I always wondered if there was going to be a light at the end of the tunnel. Yes, you can work as hard as you humanly can, but it also takes luck. You just have to be at the right place at the right time sometimes. That's why they call it a lucky break, ya know." He smiled, making you giggle tearfully.

"I know, but that's not all." You frowned. "I know you said, it's just better to ignore what the internet has to say, but...I was looking some of our comments a few months ago. And...I just went down a fuckin' rabbit hole. I know I always say that hate comments don't bother me, but...they do. They really do, and I let them get to me. I'm sorry."

"No, darling, I'm sorry. I didn't see what was really going on when I should've."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Will. I thought I was stronger than this."

Will quickly brought you close to his chest, wrapping around your torso with one arm, the other gently cupping your jaw. "Hey, you are the strongest person I know, okay? Don't think you're weak just because you're feeling something that every human on planet earth feels. Whatever those comments said, there's no one I'd rather be with than you." He leaned forward and kissed you gently, pressing his forehead against yours.

"I felt so embarrassed, Will. I wished I had talked to you sooner."

"It doesn't matter now. You opened up and I'm proud of you for that. I love you so much. And I promise to try my very hardest to never let you feel that way again."

~~~~~~~~~~

hope you enjoyed, @fcvcritecrime ! 🖤

[ambrosiaaddiction]

Not Meant To Be

Word Count: 2,107

Pairing(s): Anthony Bridgerton x reader, Simon Basset x reader

Summary: The Bridgerton family and the Duke have been invited to a picnic that was planned by yours truly. Tensions begin to grow, and things don’t go quite as you hoped they would.

TW: none

Part 2/6

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

Today’s weather of sunshine and blue skies called for a picnic. I gave clear instructions to Cook that he should prepare a delicious meal and treats, including Simon’s favorite of gooseberry pie. I would never forget something so important about him because it always came in handy.

I then go to find our butler, Charles, and say, “Please send invitations to the Bridgertons and the Duke of Hastings, Charles. There will be a picnic at the park, and do tell them that it will be late at 1pm.” He bows in response, and repeated my words before he left to complete his tasks.

With a nod of satisfaction, I left the main floor then up the stairwell to change my attire. What I was currently wearing fell short of today’s planned event, and I needed to win Simon back. Once inside my bedroom, I closed the door and quickly strode to the wardrobe to see my options.

My thoughts roamed to the man who promised that we would spend the rest of our lives together, which made my blood boil with rage. Men these days were either too dense or too arrogant or had little backbone. Simon was a mixture of having a huge ego and vulnerable when he opens up to the people that know his true personality.

None of this was my fault whatsoever. I left for only a mere three months to study abroad in France, then I return to the ‘wonderful’ news of his engagement to a girl named Daphne Bridgerton. A trip to London hadn’t been something I expected for myself, but I came to the city for him and no other reason.

In truth, Simon technically was still my fiancé, although I knew there was an explanation for everything that took place while I was absent. As a matter of fact, he brushed off the situation like it was a speck of dust that ruined his perfect image to the desperate mamas and equally egotistical lords.

“Good heavens, I’m going to get wrinkles if I keep thinking about the “what-ifs” and not do anything to change them.” I huff in exasperation at my own foolishness, a bit disappointed in myself for having such thoughts when the damage had yet to be done.

After endless decision-making, I chose to wear a yellow dress with a simple pink floral design from the sleeves to the hem of its skirt, and I twirl in front of the mirror with a bright smile. It wasn’t a ball gown, but this would surely make Simon realize that he wants me more than anyone in all of Grovensor Square. It just had to.

I had to admit, the dress itself was too revealing for a lady of my status. Well, at least it would be just myself, Simon, and the Bridgertons alone for a picnic. A reminder to cover my legs repeated itself over and over in my mind, yet I had a feeling that I would catch the attention of everyone’s eyes anyway.

The clock rang the second its big small hand reached 12pm, which meant there was an hour left for preparations and riding to the park. “Marianne! Please call for the carriage, and tell chef to hurry!” I shouted into the air, and I heard Marianne reply from down the hall. Perhaps I was rushing for punctuality-sake, but a host or hostess must never arrive later than their guests.

It was a good thing that mama had long left for tea at Lady Farland’s estate, and papa was probably gambling at the gentlemen’s club again. I certainly wouldn’t be surprised if he came home with news that he either won lost of money or lost a majority of what he gambled. No one could tell me that the picnic was meant to open Simon’s eyes and see just me in them rather than that so-called “flawless” Bridgerton girl.

Nonetheless, I had to get going before they gossiped of my tardiness if I wasn’t already at the location. Time seemed to blur from when I scurried down the stairs to gather everything I needed to when I got into the carriage and made it safely to the park. The next thing I knew, I was trying my best not to laugh at a discreetly explicit joke Benedict had shared amongst ourselves.

Anthony looked like he was going to strangle his brother or maybe he was going to give him a pat on the shoulder? I couldn’t tell because I was too preoccupied with devouring my favorite sandwich while I brushed my shoulder against Simon’s. Of course this got his attention, and he whispered into my ear, “Now is not the time nor place to play, y/n. Behave yourself.”

His warning provoked something inside of me, but there were too many people who would witness the indecency behind my innocent act. “My apologies, your Grace. I’ll be a good girl for you.” I whispered in reply, then continued to enjoy my delicious sandwich as though I did nothing wrong in the first place.

I knew what I was doing to him, and he liked it. He knew what would happen if I went further, and I was fanning the flames with fervor. “Is Daphne aware of our relationship? Sorry, I meant, what it was supposed to become? You know, such as getting married? Living together and in the country?”

Simon’s jaw clenched just like when he used to have me underneath him, calling his name and coming undone by his touch as I squeezed tighter around him. Those nights were by far the best I had ever experienced, and he treated me with such tenderness after we were spent.

“Don’t you remember the great times we had, love? Everything fell apart when I came to London and found you dancing with the red-headed girl in the moonlight.” I scowled under my breath, then I slowly calmed myself down before I could ruin this lovely picnic with a beautiful family and my old lover.

I needed a moment alone, so I stood up and sheepishly excused myself from the blanket before walking away. It was almost as though the night I found myself standing at the lake was repeating itself again, but this time, I knew where I was going and no tears would shed. No, this time was different than last. Instead of crying because I couldn’t control some situations, I chose to think about I would take back Simon for myself.

Seeing Simon chuckle and comment on every little thing Daphne said created small cracks on my heart. I couldn’t think of when he used to do that with me, and I close my eyes to forget all of the recently bad memories. Heavy footsteps approached from behind, but I was too distracted by the wrong Simon had done to me.

“Y/n, are you alright? You left so suddenly, and everyone is worried about you.” Anthony softly called out to me, his hand resting on my shoulder to turn me around and see the miserable state I was in. “I’ll be better, my lord. There’s no need to waste your worry on me.” I mustered a fake smile to dissipate his concern for me, but apparently he had dealt with heartbroken maidens before.

The Viscount gently pulled me into his arms, and rocked our bodies back and forth. I was speechless for I had no idea what he was doing, and yet I didn’t want him to stop. It felt pleasant to be comforted by a warm embrace that held a promise of always being there when it was most needed in times of anguish.

“You are a strong woman, y/n. You don’t need to act as though nothing can break through your walls. You’re still human, and that’s okay. Believe me, I know what it’s like to feel helpless.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and smiled when I pulled away to stare at him with wide eyes. I always knew what kind of man he was, but the side of him that I admired truly was a rare sight to behold.

What felt like an eternity of comfortable silence was interrupted by Eloise who came searching for her brother and I after he had been gone for too long. “Mama won’t stop spouting nonsense that you’ve gotten lost, brother. We had to stop her from creating a search party.” She snickered at the fresh memory, and it stopped when she realized that Anthony was hugging me unusually close to his chest.

I caught on and quickly pushed myself away, then I fixed my dress before thanking her. “Thank you for taking the responsibility, Eloise. You’ve found us alright, and I believe we best return to your family.” Anthony cleared his throat, a big embarrassed that the particular sister of his had seen something she would never let go.

“Yes, Miss Denbow is right. Let’s return before mother actually gathers a search party for three people.” He leads the way, and I smile awkwardly at Eloise as I walk past her. I then let out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding in since she found Anthony and I, but I hoped that she wouldn’t mention it when we got back to the picnic.

Once there, Lady Bridgerton literally shed tears of joy as soon as she saw my face and brought me into a hug. What was with the Bridgertons and hugging? I could see Simon lean over to Anthony, his mouth forming the words, “Thank you for bringing her back safely.” Anthony nodded in reply, then sat down in between Colin and Benedict before he grabbed his glass of wine to take quite a long sip.

Well, it was back to where I started. I didn’t want to ask questions and make matters worse, but I knew that the current engagement wasn’t going to last for long. According to Lady Whistledown, Queen Charlotte was not convinced of the proclaimed love that everyone said Simon and Daphne shared.

I had to say it. Otherwise, I would lose the love of my life to a woman who gained Her Majesty’s favor, and I would be lonely until the day I die. “The Duke and I were once lovers, but now he’s going to marry Miss Bridgerton.” Complete and utter silence. I take in a deep breath before I continue.

“I had traveled to France for three months, and the Duke asked me to come see him here, in London. I truly thought that he was going to marry me, but I was proven wrong and a fool. He’s pretending as though we didn’t have a beautiful relationship before he chose to help her and she him.”

Lady Bridgerton was the first to break, and she began to stumble over her words while overcoming the insurmountable shock that I gave to everyone. Eloise tried what she could to stop herself from laughing, Benedict smacked her arm while he was struggling to do the same.

Colin couldn’t find the right words, and Anthony spat out his wine. Except for the two youngest children who were playing in a flower field, we adults all sat together with no help to describe what our mixed emotions were. “What is the matter with you, y/n? Did you even think this through before you babbled on about the past? If I had known that you were so childish, I would’ve left you a long time ago.”

Simon glared cold daggers in my direction, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. The man who I loved was now a stranger with a much better woman than I, so there was nothing I could do now to take him back. “You’re right, Simon. I’m such a child, and I don’t know any better than to tell the truth when living a lie is all the more tempting.”

I gave my deepest apologies to Lady Bridgerton, promising her that I would make up for my demeanor with tea and a visit to the spa one day. I then said my farewells to the Bridgertons, but I didn’t spare the slightest of glances to Simon who looked like he was going to let out a fury of anger.

It served him right for playing with my heart, and if he was so play a part not meant for him that would end in heartbreak, then so be it. I knew someone who could help me make him regret losing me, and they were a professional when it came to such lengths.

Just you wait, Simon Basset. Just you wait.

[nct-lian]

lian’s dating rumours

LIHYUNG

year: 2019

duration: late march 2019 — late may 2019

parties involved: lianna bae, kim taehyung

status: resolved, still shipped by delulus

level of exposure: 10/10

situation: at this time, lian and hyoseop were actually still in a relationship, and they ended up getting caught by dispatch while on a walk with each other.

whoever must have been following them seemed to have mistaken hyoseop for taehyung, just because the sweater he was wearing looked a lot like one taehyung was seen in at one point.

“paul- i think there’s someone following us.” lian whipped her head back to look at whatever was behind her, wrapping her arm tightly around hyoseop’s bicep.

he made sure his mask, along with his bucket hat was protectively covering his face before picking up his speed, lian soon catching on and following after him.

they turned a corner and eventually lost whoever the hell decided to stalk people for a living, and they sighed a breath of relief. lian loosened her grip on his arm, now reaching down to loosely hold his hand instead.

“god, if that’s dispatch-” she shook her head as she adjusted her mask that began to fall past her nose and looked up at her boyfriend. “my first scandal? at least i’ll get some exposure!” he jokingly winked at her as she hit him.

“don’t act like it’s a good thing! i’ve been in too many of these already.” she pouted even though he couldn’t see her, and she let out a whine when he disagreed.

the two entered a convenience store so they could grab some snacks before heading back to hyoseop’s apartment complex; they wanted to get some time with each other before lian had to leave the next morning.

maybe a few days later, pictures of lian wearing the exact sweater that was seen the same night of their walk, had surfaced over twitter from a sasaeng’s account.

the beginning of the rumours + resolution: if the pictures that dispatch ended up posting of the two that night wasn’t enough to set fans off, this definitely was. people started putting their pictures side by side to compare the cardigans and the rumour of “lihyung being real” was beginning to look a little too suspicious.

sm wanted to make sure that lian wanted nothing about her current relationship to be revealed to the public, and shortly after, they made a statement regarding the whole thing.

it was in fact revealed that the cardigan she was wearing did belong to someone else, but it had just been a hand-me-down from a friend that was no longer interested in it. they concluded with the fact that lian wasn’t in any sort of romantic relationship, and she was just focusing on her career as of right now.

bighit took a while to respond to what was going on, but they basically just said the same thing; taehyung is focusing on his career at the moment, and isn’t involved in a relationship that wasn’t strictly platonic.

LIMARK

year: 2020

duration: mid january 2020 — late january 2020

parties involved: lianna bae, mark lee

status: immediately resolved, everyone in nct is shipped together in one way or another so uh

level of exposure: 12/10

situation: back in january when nct 127 had been playing truth or dare on a teen vogue interview, lian had ended up picking truth on her first round. the question she received was rather intrusive, having been asked when she had her first kiss.

she played it off and jokingly asked, “hey! are you allowed to ask me this?” with a small laugh as she looked back down to the tiny slip of paper that she was holding between her thumb and pointer finger.

“we got permission!” a lady shot back from behind the camera, and lian soon thought that she had no choice but to elaborate. she covered her mouth with her hand and shook her head, eyeing the staff with a disappointed look.

lian went on to explain that it happened when she was still a teenager — around 2015. she was sure that was the end of it, and she was silently praying that after she exposed such a meaningful part of her personal life, the producers would leave her alone.

“if you don’t mind us asking, who was it with?” she didn’t want to answer; she was given a choice! guilt began to eat away at her chest as she overthought every possible thing that could go wrong if she said no, buckling under the pressure of everyone’s eyes being directed right at her.

“this is so intrusive!” she laughed sarcastically, but masked it with fake happiness as she shook her head again, gasping for a small hint of breath. “uh, it was with mark-” she ran a hand through her hair to desperately distract herself from the utter embarrassment she was feeling.

mark, who was sitting right beside her, slapped a hand over his mouth and placed a hand on johnny’s shoulder as he looked at the wall. his main goal was to avoid all eye contact between himself and anyone else.

no one except haechan had known about mark and lian’s little secret from before they debuted, and it was their intention to keep it that way for as long as they could. “wait what?” jaehyun whipped his head towards the back row, as did the rest of the members.

“yah! don’t get the wrong idea!” she made sure to say it in korean, but continued in english, “nothing happened after that-” mark stepped in for her, noticing how she was getting more overwhelmed by the second.

“yeah, yeah, it was just a little thing. we were really young and wanted to get it over and done with with someone we were both comfortable around.” he nodded with a tight-lipped smile, surprisingly less awkward than he usually was.

lian saw the way a staff member from behind the set was getting ready to talk more about the situation, but she quickly shut them down, “moving on, yes? yuta’s turn!”

the beginning of the rumours + resolution: shortly after the interview was posted onto youtube, fans noticed how defensive lian was towards the question and began to speculate that “the kiss” the two members shared wasn’t just “a kiss.”

their conspiracy was that whatever was going on between them behind the scenes had still been thing now, and they started spreading rumours about how the two idols were dating.

keep in mind that actual fans of the group did their best to cover up all these things with loving messages for both of them, and tried SO hard to ensure that they wouldn’t have to see them.

fans knew how close of friends mark and lian were, and they weren’t gonna let some crazy, delusional “fans” get in the way of that, and potentially put a strain on their friendship.

some of these rumours ended up escalating into hate towards both of them, and lian was being called a slut over twitter for “sleeping” with a fellow member.

sm entertainment released a statement as soon as they could, confirming lian and mark were just friends and will remain that way; their private lives will stay their private lives, and whoever participated in this malicious train of newfound hate will be sued.

[all-might-can-smash-me]

Exhibits

Toshinori Yagi / All Might x Reader

Summary: you run into a man at the hero exhibit on display at the museum you work at. You soon find out his name to be Toshinori Yagi and you two hit it off and eventually get married and what not...but little did you know that Toshinori Yagi had quite the secret.

Masterlist

The sounds of conversation fluttered softly through the whole exhibit. Children excitedly rushed from each case to the other, excitedly pointing to the mannequins that held their iconic poses with the most iconic hero costumes plastered on them or hardcore fans to geek out over seeing the details up close. Though the eye catcher of your little exhibit was the All Might display. Every costume from each age was displayed, lights illuminating each color and fiber beautiful for those small children or for anyone to get a closer look to the most iconic hero of all time in Japan. People would also stand in shock next to the cutout of the symbol of peace and gawk at the height difference between themselves and All Might. Thankfully, spare costumes were even provided in order for the visitors to touch and feel, so people were also letting their fingers graze over the fabric.

The exhibit was your pride and joy. Seeing all those visitors enjoying themselves and devouring and digesting every fact, detail, and color was amazing to observe as you walked about, name tag pinned proudly to your smart outfit as your heels clicked against the freshly waxed and polished floors of the museum.

“Sorry, but please, no touching the class cases and please stand behind the line we have on the floor right here.” You said sweetly to a few kids who had their faces pressed up against one of the class that protected one of the costumes. The kids, embarrassed, backed up with sad moans. “But....if you go around the corner over there...you can touch every age of All Might’s costumes...” you said, the kids giving their excited ‘thanks!’ As they hurriedly off to where you instructed them to go. You couldn’t help but giggle as you watched them disappear around the corner, you beginning to turn around, but let out a gasp as you found yourself almost running into someone. “I am so sorry!” You quickly gushed out as your hands automatically went to the other’s arms, balancing yourself before taking a step back.

“Oh no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stop so close behind you.” The other man mumbled out as he held a hand up in reassurance, a small blush upon his cheeks, but he quickly cleared his throat before motioning a hand to the costume that sat off to the side. “So...um...Gran Torino, huh?” He said a bit awkwardly, but you only giggled as you turned to look to the costume on display.

“Yes, I had to track him down in order to ask to borrow it, but he happily obliged when I did meet him. It adds a nice touch, I feel we focus on what happens in our own years instead and not admire the hero’s that were prevalent in the years before us.” You commented, soon casting a glance to him, casting him a little grin with a shrug of your shoulders.

“Really? Tell me, who are your favorite heroes then.” The gaunt man before you asked, you taking in a breath before letting a sigh, a finger brought of your to you chin in though. Though you finally brought your hand back down from your face, prepared to answer.

“Well, All Might since he played such a huge role in everyone’s lives in Japan, including me.” You said with a little laugh, your tone so matter of fact. “His face and name is the one I found myself looking for in the media and news, but of course there’s Endeavor and Best Jeanist.” You listed off. Though the man before you nodded his head, but then moved to face you, giving a small bow.

“I’m Toshinori Yagi...” He introduced himself, which when you began to introduce yourself, he shook his head, motioning to your name tag. “Don’t worry, I got your name...” he said jokingly, causing a small giggle to erupt from you as you shyly looked down to your feet until back at him. “Well, can you give me a little tour of this exhibit?” He asked, you nodding your head before leading him through the different displays, jokingly and dramatically motioning to each one which gained a laugh from him as you went on. Though as the time went on, more and more people began to file out for the end of the day, the museum beginning to near its closing. That left you and him along before the All Might costumes that were on display in order for viewers to touch them. You couldn’t help but lean forward and allow your fingers to run over the fabric, a soft smile upon your face.

“Now this...this is what I’m most proud of.” You spoke out with a grin to him over your shoulder. “Imagine being able to touch something that makes the symbol of peace the symbol of peace.” You said as you looked back to the costume, admiration upon your face as you look to the display, arms crossed. “Plus cosplayers and designers who come to look for inspiration can get a better look at the materials and I know being able to touch it helps them quite a lot.” You said with a shrug of your shoulders, watching Toshinori reach out to give a small touch to the costume before retracting his hand. He was just about to say something, but the announcement that the museum was now closing interrupted him.

“I have to go...” he mumbled out as he listened to the announcement echoed around his head as he looked to you. He had to admit, he was disappointed that the time with you and talking with you was cut mercilessly.

“I’ll see you around, I’ll be here everyday for the next couple of weeks before everything is packed up and sent back to their original owners.” You said, a hopeful look glinting in your eye as you looked to him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Definitely...”

And he was being truthful as he said that since the next day he was back again, matching suit jacket to his yellow, pinned striped suit draped over his arm as he made his way through the exhibit again, blue eyes staring up to those poses with wonder. Though you were excitedly walking up to him, a hand rested upon his arm.

“Hey!” You said, hand tucking away pesky hairs that had fallen from the pins you had in your hair, a grin upon your face. That became a routine between the two of you. Meet up, walk about and discuss different things. It was nice, but one day that announcement had become enough for Toshinori.

“Want to go grab something to drink? Or eat?” He asked, you quickly nodding your head.

“Yes! Yes, just...wait for me outside, I just have to go grab my things.” You said before rushing off, leaving him to smile away to the clomps of your heels. So with that he waited outside, suit jacket now upon his body as he shoved his hands into the depths of his pocket, waiting and waiting...until finally those familiars clicks reached his ears.

“Alright! I’m ready!” You happily chirped as you adjusted your purse on your shoulder, a grin on your lips as you linked your arm with his, letting him lead your down the sidewalks painted orange by the setting sun. The two of you decided on a small little rotation sushi joint, the two of your tucked away by the conveyor belt, cardigan and suit jackets tossed off to the side as the two of you laughed and giggled to something the other said.

“No! Honestly! This guy stomps into my exhibit and wanted to square up with me over the costumes being ‘fakes’ or whatever and that he knew it because of his years studying it in a ‘hero encyclopedia’ you snorted out as you took a sip from your drink, Toshinori laughing across from you, grabbing the plate that contained the sushi he had ordered from the little kiosk at the table.

“What got you into the museum life though? Not really a popular career path...not that it’s a bad thing.” He quickly elaborated as he continued to eat, looking to you to await your answer.

“I love museums...and my quirk played a role...” you said as you scrolled through the options on the menu absent mindedly, casting a side glance to him. “My quirk allows me to be really....um...perceptive with colors and lighting. I can see colors better than any human, animal, organism, you name it. So with that, I can really maneuver things in order to get the best view of it and obtain great lighting too to achieve it. That’s why my exhibits are always such a hit, especially when it comes to showing off clothing. Historical and traditional garments, movie costumes, heroes, a lot.” You explained, finally deciding on something from the menu before clicking the option, now facing him again. “What about you?”

“Me?” He said with a raised brow, clicking his chopsticks in his hands as he thought it over, arm lent forward and onto the table. “Just some lousy pawn for an agency..” he said with a little laugh. “I’m quirkless...so not really a lot of options in the playing field, so paperwork upon paperwork it is” He said with a shrug of his shoulders as he leant his cheek onto his leant up fist, watching you grab the sushi you had ordered.

“Well quirkless or not, I still like you, even if I don’t like the fact that you called yourself lousy.” You said with a grin as you grabbed ahold of your chopsticks. “Besides, once you really think about it, I just see a lot of color, that’s it, so really I could be considered quirkless too.” You said with a laugh as you began to eat again, Toshinori finishing up and now leant back into the booth, arms crossed over his chest. “I never had a chance at heroic work and whatnot.” You said after you swallowed the food in your mouth.

“Did you want to become a hero?” He asked, you scrunching up your face in thought before giving a firm nod of your head.

“Well yeah, who doesn’t as a child? I was certainly no different, but as I got older, I realized that with my quirk, I wasn’t going anywhere. So I enrolled in UA’s general studies...” you said, the two sushi roles left on your plate forgotten as you leaned back to relax too with your full and content stomach.

“Wait....you said you liked me.” Toshinori said with a small, little smirk upon his lips as he leaned forward on the table again.

“Well, yeah. What’s the point of me not being up front about it when I literally spent the past two weeks talking with you at the museum and excepting your offer to go out to eat.” You said with a shrug of your shoulders, now sipping from your drink, the condensation rolling off and dripping it’s little droplets of water onto the table. “Anyways, I went to college and studied art history and the fine arts.” You said as your drink was now set back down and forgotten off to the side, passing a napkin to clean up the water that had dripped off of your class and onto the table. Though a waiter had interrupted what he was about to say, Toshinori paying for the bill before getting up and slipping his suit jacket back on, helping you up from the booth and handing you your purse before walking out of the restaurant with you, your arm wrapped around his as the two of your now waited at the bus stop. On the bus you let your head rest upon his shoulder, a comfortable silence now resting upon both of you, even when you were now stepping up to your apartment door, the lights of cars dancing upon the horizon past the railings that lead down the walkway to each apartment. “Would you maybe...like to come in for a bit?” You asked as you pulled out your apartment keys with a jingle, a soft nod of his head answering you as his fingers hooked onto yours.

He didn’t leave until that morning, leaving his number and a note that he had work. Toshinori at your house had become a normal occurrence. To the point where now you had a little section of your closet just for him, extra pairs of suits hanging away in their protective bags and along with casual clothing, night clothes tucked away with your own in a drawer. It brought a smile to your face to walk in and see them, not being able to help but shove your nose into the fabric to get the wonderful serotonin the smell of the remnants of his cologne would give you. The best sleep of your life happened too in his arms and evenings were spent cuddled away on your couch watching movies or him working on paper work as you would cook dinner. It was a nice, domestic routine the two of you had formed and enjoyed immensely. It carried on for a few years until finally he popped the question, officially moved in, and got married. One day though, you were cuddled up into his side, watching some random stuff on the television when it was interrupted by a news segment show casing All Might. Honestly, it was pretty normal, so you kind of just decided to deal with the interview that was playing on screen.

“How do you think he manages all that? Interviews, teaching at UA, and then also with being a hero.” You said with a laugh as the interviewer tried to crack a joke and point out the mysterious wedding band that was on All Might’s finger that drove the world insane with how the mystery woman was. “AND be married.” You added, moving to wrap the blankets around you and Toshinori, the other only letting out a chuckle as he helped you.

“Why you say that?” He asked, arms resting back onto you after the blankets were to you and his liking, now looking down to you, pressing a kiss onto your forehead.

“Come on, he’s always jumping around fighting crime plus dealing with students at UA, his wife has got to be pissed that he’s away all the time, like she probably doesn’t want to do all the dishes or laundry by herself anymore.” You joked as you looked up to him before looking back to the tv, but something was up with Toshinori after that interview ended. He was...antsy, kept moving around. “Hey, so you need to walk around? You keep moving.” You spoke up as you looked up to him again.

“Hm? Oh, sorry.” He muttered out, now back to staring off to the tv, but something made you feel like he was only day dreaming, but you only shrugged your shoulders. “Actually....I have something to tell you...” he muttered out, you moving to sit up, looking to him now.

“Toshinori...you don’t have to feel bad.....I know you washed something red with the towels and that’s why they are pink....” you said, busting out with a little snort, gaining a little huff and a roll of Toshinori’s eyes as he watched you laugh.

“No, that’s not what I was going to say, but ok I did that, but no...” he said with a shake of his head. “I’m...I’m All Might...” he finally spoke out, you looking at him blankly before laughing.

“Oh har har Toshinori...nice joke, that’s a new one, I don’t think I’ve heard it in our last, what, six years of marraige?” You asked teasingly as you grabbed the tv remote to begin channel surfing again, but your husband had already took the remote. “Hey...!” you said with a pout, your husband now standing before you.

“I can prove it!” He declared, you raising your eyebrows up at him. “Remember the exhibit? How we met?” He questioned, you only giving a nod of your head, leaning back into the couch, hands pulling the discard blanket back onto your lap. “You wrote to my angency asking for the one and only support item that I used to direct air whenever I would use my force to manipulate it, but I didn’t send it.” He spoke out, you only rolling your eyes.

“You’re really good sweetheart, but any intermediate fan who studied his ages knows that one.” You said as you pointed a finger at him, he only looking at you in disbelief as you went to grab for the remote, but he only moved it away. That’s when a hiss sounded out and...smoke? It was like your husband was being inflated before you....

“I am here!” Came out that iconic voice, All Might, well your husband, stood before you, baggy night shirt and shorts now tight against the bulging physique of All Might.

“What the fuck!” You shouted, now grabbing one of the pillows on the couch to throw it at All Might, now crawling off the couch and running across the room and into the kitchen. “Ah!” You screamed again once you saw All Might begin to run after you, now proceeding in a constant cycle of chasing around the kitchen table.

“Stop running! I’m not going to hurt you! I’m your husband!” He shouted, you and him now twitching from side to side, trying to see which way the other would run from their side of the table.

“Six years! I slept in a bed next to you, cooked with you AND for you, made love to you, and have been married to you for six years! You tell me this after six years!?” You shouted at him from your place, hands gripping onto the chairs before you, but once again you and him were running, now he was where you were and you were where he was.

“When was I ever suppose to bring it up?! I didn’t want to endanger you! And I didn’t want you to think of me differently!” He spoke out, head almost hitting the hanging lights above the table as he leaned forward, hands pressed on top of the table. “Stop running!”

“Stop chasing me! You know I hate people running after me because I just run on instinct!” You cried out as you were once again running away, All Might now jumping over the table and following after you.

“Ow!” He yelled out as he bumped his head on the door way of the your shared bedroom, stumbling back a bit as his head went to the little gash on his head, you finally stopping your running.

“Are you ok?!” You gasped out, you now standing before him, trying to reach your hands up, but it was in vain. He was extremely taller than you. “Let me clean it up, Toshinori.” You spoke out as you grabbed onto his free hand, leading him into the bathroom, throwing the lid to the toilet down which he instantly sat on as he watched you pull out the first aid, already cleaning the gash on his forehead.

“I’m sorry...” he soon muttered out as you motioned for him to hold a small piece of gauze down so you could anchor it down with medical tape. “I wanted to tell you, but I was scared that you would feel differently or whatever, you know? I let myself think the worse would happen.” He spoke out, you sighing as you hopped up onto the counter space in between the two sinks of the master bedroom’s bathroom, legs swinging gently as you looked to your husband before you. It was strange to see All Might, the Symbol of Peace, and attach the title ‘Husband’ to him in your head.

“Hm...so that’s why All Might mysteriously had a wedding ring.” You finally spoke out as you used your foot to nudge at his hand with the ring, he only laughing and grabbing ahold of your foot to set it upon his knee, hands beginning to absentmindedly run at your leg. Though the man before you looked completely different from what your husband had usually looked like, his habits and actions were all the same, except that voice...that was gonna need some getting use to.

“Yeah...I didn’t want to take the ring off...” he said as he scratched the back of his neck with a little blush upon his face. “I still wanted to show off that I myself was happily married, so I just didn’t take it off, but it was hard to not just blab about you.” He said sheepishly, you blushing a little bit, hopping down from the counter, stepping up from him, though you brought your fist down to his arm. “Ow- I mean that totally didn’t hurt but what was that for?!” He asked as he brought a hand up to rub the spot you punched.

“That’s what you get for lying to me!” You said before tossing your arms around his neck. “But my husband is All freaking Might! That’s kind of cool...” you spoke out with a giggle as you pulled back from the hug.

“Yes...but also I got one more thing...”

“Oh no...what now” you said with a sigh, fear on your face.

“I want my students to meet you! And the teachers!” He gushed out as he held onto your hands.

“You want me to meet your students and coworkers? That’s an obvious yes”

“Oh hell yes!”

[woozisnoots]

i’m not a hero | hansol vernon chwe

° pairing: vernon x reader ° genre: floofity floof fluff ° summary: people ask you, the avid star wars enthusiast, who your favorite character is and to their surprise? it’s not the hero. ° word count: 1276 ° warning: i mention weapon maybe 2 times ° a/n: my installment for @merakiiverse​​ collab - thank you so much for this really fun opportunity!!! check out the masterlist + all the amazing authors below 💓 (and yes this is part of krys and i’s disneyland au as well!)

meraki’s job collab! / seventeen stars to the right!

masterlist!

everyone will tell you how hard it is trying to pay for college, being away from home, living alone, occasionally having to cope with potential loneliness and lack of motivation from time to time

but some college experiences outweigh all those hardships

and for vernon, it’s two things: you and living out his dream job. well, close to his dream job

you and vernon actually went to the same high school and even shared classes together. exchanged a couple of laughs during graduation practice at how both your names were mispronounced at the podium

yet for the entire three / four years that you were there, no words ushered between you two aside from formal greetings and acknowledged nods. after those graduation caps went up in the sky and you disappeared into the crowd, vernon regretted not talking to you at least once.

just when he was about to lose hope and move passed it, the next thing he knew, he saw you again waiting outside his communications class at his university

‘so this must be fate, it has to be… or a sign? whatever the difference is’

vernon’s face completely flushed when you expressed how relieved you were to see him, alas a familiar face in this new foreign place. making small talk before class started. finding out you guys actually shared the same major, hinting that he’ll probably get to see and spend more time with you more often, in and outside of school

what a perfect perfect way to start a friendship!

after exchanging each other numbers, study sessions became regular hangouts and soon after a few months, the awkward air around him diminished and he finally let his nonchalant person shine through

…but that doesn’t mean he still isn’t shy.

“awe so yn still doesn’t know about your obsession with star wars? can’t be their little jedi to save the them from having to write an argumentative speech in five minutes?”

vernon only responded by sending a glare directed towards his roommate and shoved his head into his pillow, yelping out his internal screams

and for his information, he wasn’t necessarily the hero of the story 

how was he supposed to tell you that he worked as a storm trooper at disneyland? 

first and far most important, he can’t. that’s against the rules, he would get fired in a heartbeat. that would ruin the entire galaxy edge experience. where’s the magic in that?  

and second, even if he were to tell you, he just broke through the wall and is finally on good terms with you. yes, you guys may be friends right now but he does eventually want to ask you out  

in his head, being a star wars fan doesn’t really give him that cool reputation that he wants you to perceive of him 

and what if you didn’t know what a storm trooper was? now he would just be embarrassed :( 

the one free day that you guys have, he almost regrets wanting to work there in the first place

you: hey! you free this weekend? 

vernon: depends… am i?

you: well make yourself free :p think you can scavenge some money to get a one day ticket to disneyland on saturday? 

vernon: that is more than 100 dollars, do you really think

you: PLEASE IT’LL BE FUN !!!! my best friend and i just got seasonal passes and are ready to abuse it every weekend <3

vernon: ok and your speech?

you: …will be written before then :D 

vernon: …fINE 

vernon: bold of you to assume i already to have a pass. late to the fun train i see

oh gosh, what the hell did he just say yes to? he has work that day! 

thankfully, he only needs to work one shift and that lasts a couple of hours. he can make an excuse for meeting up late - his best being getting into a long phone call with his parents and losing track of time (which you wholeheartedly believe given his known soft spot for his family) 

there’s a possible chance, you won’t even go to his certain place of work anyways. maybe you’ll just go to check it out, go on a few rides and wander off.  

it was late morning bleeding into the afternoon and vernon was all set in costume, ready to march around the side of the park as one of two of kylo ren’s bodyguards 

on a warm, sunny california day like this, was the only time vernon didn’t particularly like having to play a character in a full body costume. he could feel the heat rising up in his helmet and sweat accumulates in places he didn’t know could sweat, uncomfortable wedgies throughout the day

and it suddenly gets a thousand times hotter when he sees you walking towards him, leading your best friend to the outside meet and greet area 

during his time, vernon has seen some pretty surprising guests at disneyland all while keeping his composure and staying in character. but this is the first time he almost lets his mumbling slip past his microphone and nearly dropping his blaster to the ground 

there’s nothing much that vernon can do as he stands in front of the guests, including you. it’s not like you came to see him specifically, everyone’s here to see the kylo ren 

so he decides to play it off the best and only way he knows how 

“approach,” he says to you and your friend as it was their turn, gripping his fake weapon in both hands 

he did not expect you to be so excited for this interaction. up close, vernon notices that you portrayed an opened mouth smile with a certain glimmer in your eyes that he doesn’t get to see off duty 

“have you sworn allegiance to the first order?” his partner to his left continues the conversation 

“if i say yes, does that mean i can get a picture with you guys?” you fiddle to find the your phone in your disney themed backpack and hand it to your friend that seemed rather distracted upon other things 

looking back and forth between the other storm trooper and you, as a cast member, vernon knew exactly what to say

“well that makes things easier for the both of us. proceed.” 

your high pitched squeal finally gets the attention of your friend, taking a few steps back to take the photo

you’re sandwiched in between the two stormtroopers and an awkward kylo ren towering behind you 

vernon promptly holds up his blaster with one hand over his shoulder, making for a more dramatic photo, but what the camera can’t capture is how completely flustered vernon is under his armored attire

he’s never been this close to you before

thank goodness he was playing a character or else you wouldn’t know what to do with him hyperventilating right in front of you 

once the picture is shot and approved yours truly, you continue to have a one on one conversation with kylo ren before having to leave. giving vernon a little while to recover and look around at anywhere and anyone to calm down his heart as you stand just a mere few inches close to him

being considerate of your friend, your time is short and you guys make your way to the exist with slight disappoint shown on your face 

vernon risks watching you leave the vicinity, not paying too much attention to the guests waiting patiently in line

and it’s worth it to see you look back at him one last time, feeling as if you could see right through his façade  

[katnissmellarkkk]

Chapter Two

Hiiii! Okay, soooo I wanted to get the new chapter out ASAP! I really, really love any of you guys who read/kudoed/commented or anything on AO3 🥰🥰🥰🥰. Means the world to me.

As I mentioned on here yesterday, my one eye is basically sore and I went to the eye doctor and basically can’t wear my contacts for a few days. So because of my how nearsighted I am and the fact that I haven’t updated my glasses prescription in over a decade .... I edited this chapter on my phone? So yeah. I think it turned out just as well as any of my other writing but ya know. For verification, if there’s some mistakes here or there. Ya girl was tryin, ok. 😂😂😂😂😅😅😅😅😬😬😬😬😬😬.

Okay anyways I’ll stop talking, here’s the next chapter :

“You just have to get to know her,” Peeta claimed. “Bailey’s a good person. Don’t let her outer shell fool you.”

What I really wanted to ask him was how he ever got beyond her—as he so delicately phrased it—outer shell.

Never big on social interactions, on top of being generally awful at making friends, I did my best to get all the information Peeta would willingly offer about his new, mysterious girlfriend, before having to deal with her directly.

Which wasn’t much. Peeta, the boy who gossiped about his father wanting to marry my mother while we were in a televised death match, who seemed to always have some insight on other people, who never hesitated to share his gossip with me before now, suddenly had tight lips when it came to Bailey Robyn.

The biggest emission I got from him was, “she had a childhood a lot like mine.”

I don’t know what that means? Bailey was the child of District Nine’s baker? District Nine had a class divide as well and she was of a merchant equivalent? She was a popular wrestler?

And then it hit me all at once. Like a train storming for the Capitol, it hit me with crushing force. Peeta never confirmed the fact, but the look in his eyes when I made the guess was enough to suggest I was right.

Bailey also grew up with an abusive mother. Just like Peeta.

The idea was a lot for me to process suddenly. I knew people who looked perfect could hide dark secrets. Peeta and Finnick Odair were both evidence of this. But for some reason I was taken aback by the notion that Bailey, who seemed so lively and pristine and collected, could have come from a violent and vicious household like the Mellark’s.

I mentally berated myself for the shock. How many times had strangers misjudged me in the last couple of years? How much had that infuriated me to find out?

When I go over to Haymitch’s house the following week for dinner, I make considerable effort in preparing myself to see Bailey sitting at the table.

And I’m not disappointed.

Bailey Robyn is sitting in the dining room when I walk in, half her hair gracefully combed into a cascading updo, looking as porcelain and perfect as ever. In her hand is a cookie covered in pink frosting, her mouth pulled up in a sparkling white smile as she laughs at something Haymitch has said.

Evidently Bailey puts my old mentor in a good enough mood, because he gives her a real genuine grin in reply.

Before turning to me with a scowl, of course. “Well, sweetheart, look who decided to join us?”

“I’m on time, Haymitch,” I immediately grumble, eyeing him with aggravation.

“If we give or take twenty minutes.”

But Bailey apparently wants to be my buffer. “Like you’ve ever been on time for anything, Haymitch Abernathy,” she retorts, looking at me knowingly. Like she’s trying to let me in on her joke. Like we’re old friends, who gang up on Haymitch together all the time.

A part of me feels displaced, as this interaction, if I didn’t know better, gives me the idea that I’m the odd one out and Bailey is the aquatinted one in this dynamic. But still, I take a deep breath and smile back in her direction.

I promised Peeta I would try. I promised to give Bailey a chance. And I’m not going to break another promise to him.

Not after everything that’s happened to him because of me.

Before I can find a semi-conversational thing to say back though, more voices join us.

“Katniss!” Delly chirps, rounding the corner from Haymitch’s pigsty living room with Peeta by her side.

“Oh, look who finally showed up,” Peeta says, teasing me.

I have an entirely different reaction to him nudging me versus Haymitch. Instead of getting defensive, I feel myself immediately blush, suddenly a little embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I got held up in the woods.” My words somehow get choked in with a giggle and Peeta smirks in response.

Luckily for me, Bailey seems to not mind our interaction. Instead she laughs once again. “Held up in the woods by what?” She murmurs curiously.

“Knowing her?” Haymitch mutters, eyeing at me wryly. “Squirrels.”

/

I give the night my best effort. I talk to Bailey, ask her questions—pretend not to notice how elusive her answers are—and plaster a completely fake smile across my face, trying my best to appear as sweet and as pleasant as I am capable of.

However, by the end, I’m so glad Delly is there by my side that, without hesitating to think about it, I invite her to be a permanent member of our weekly dinners. If Peeta can bring Bailey every time—as I suspect he will—I can surely have someone here too. Someone else who is a bit apprehensive about the new addition, someone who doesn’t think I’m just blatantly rude for remaining on my guard.

I expected Haymitch, at least, would be a little unsure about Bailey. I expected he’d be at least slightly cautious of her presence. But instead the opposite seems to be true.

Instead Haymitch almost seems more apprehensive about me being at dinner.

Every time I glance at Peeta too long, every time I cringe—in my mind, internally, but evidently the old, paunchy man notices—when Bailey plants her lips all over Peeta, I feel him kick me in the leg, step on my foot, nudge me roughly as he passes by.

Delly finds the whole thing really funny. She finds Haymitch and my subsequent glares and glances more entertaining than any of the stories Bailey shares about District Nine.

And Delly Cartwright has never been one for subtly. She’s never been one for holding back her emotion either.

What should be her quiet chuckles are loud, snorting giggles and her standard laughs are practically hysterics.

And I find unexpectedly, when mixed with such a tense air, the sound of her boisterous laughter cracks even me up. Even Haymitch smiles a little.

Of course, the fact that this conjures up an image of me and Delly sharing some kind of inside joke is sort of an unexpected gift. I only realize it after the fact, but the idea that it looks like me and Delly are laughing together makes me feel suddenly less alone. Makes me feel suddenly like I belong here again.

Bailey is pleasant enough, I note to myself. She smiles in all the right places when someone else speaks, she manages to softly laugh in all the appropriate spots, she tell us vague details about her home in Nine easily enough.

Apparently she was born and raised on a farm, learned to produce grain from a young age and left her parents’ home at fourteen.

She makes no mention of the abuse Peeta implied but I never expected she would. It takes practically a microscope to uncover it in Peeta’s own tales. And even that’s from my point of view. An outsider who didn’t survive two games and a war with him would be hard-pressed to decipher it at all out of the stories he tells. I anticipated Bailey would be just as allusive.

I did not anticipate however, that Bailey would grow so uncomfortable when asked where she lived after she left her parents’ home. I didn’t expect her to look around the room in an abrupt, stiff silence, that she would stare past the walls of Haymitch’s home with a glassy look in her stone blue eyes, or that she would stand from the table without warning and flee down the hall.

And I’m thankful now that it was Delly who asked the question and not me, as surely my old mentor, who’s nearly smashed by this point, would find a way to cast the blame onto me.

“Did I say something wrong?” Delly asks, genuinely disturbed that she apparently must have hurt Bailey. She may not be her biggest fan, but Delly Cartwright isn’t one to intentionally upset people.

Peeta hesitates for a moment before shaking his head. “No, she’s just... it’s nothing you did, Delly,” he promises but his voice is far away now too, and his gaze flickers towards the hall the blonde disappeared down.

Still, Delly bites her lip in fear she caused an issue and excuses herself from the table in a haste, offering to clean everyone’s dishes.

Neither me nor Peeta—or even Haymitch himself—say not to bother. The house itself is in atrocious condition after the decades of neglect and washing the dishes will only cover the plates in grim and mold instead of food. But it’s not about the actual cleansing of the dishes and we all know it. It’s about avoidance.

Something the three of us know more about than anyone ever should.

I use the given opportunity to catch Peeta’s eye. “What’s going on?” I murmur under my breath, hoping Haymitch wouldn’t insert himself into the conversation for once, that he won’t shut my question down and bark at me for being nosy.

“Bailey just needs a minute,” Peeta states, and I can tell from his tone it’s better not to ask again. Whatever’s going on with his girlfriend has him on edge as well. It seems to me, at least.

The next thirty minutes feel like hours as they pass. No one speaks. Haymitch is almost out cold from his liquor. Peeta refuses to meet my eyes or even so much as tear his gaze from the direction Bailey walked off in. I’m about to tell him to just go after her, when she decides to reappear.

Like magic, she reappears, her face seemingly flawless, her smile as bright and as stunning as before, her poise back again like it never slipped.

“Are you okay?” I ask anyway though, because there’s no use in pretending she didn’t just run off after a harmless comment. Delly obviously wants the answer to the same inquiry or she wouldn’t be currently lingering in the doorframe, afraid to even enter the room.

Still, I receive a pointed glance from Peeta and an outright disgusted look from a barely coherent Haymitch.

I fight my natural instincts that says to justify myself. My natural instincts that tell me they’re being far too defensive over a simple question.

And for what reason? Peeta just met her a few months ago and Haymitch probably wouldn’t be able to tell her apart from half the merchant girls in the district. What is it about Bailey that makes both of them take up their metal armor to protect?

“I’m fine,” she says lightly, and offers a tight, closed-mouth smile that doesn’t come across as real for a second. “Delly, do you need any help in the kitchen?”

“No,” the typically bubbly blonde says almost instantly. There’s a waiver in her voice and I feel a pang of sadness spread across my chest, because Delly is obviously afraid of even being in the same room as Bailey now.

“Okay well, we should be going anyways, Peeta,” she says definitively and tugs on his hand with a bit too much force. If you ask me.

“Me too,” I murmur before mentally kicking myself, realizing that I just boxed myself into a corner, looking like I was playing a game and trying to tag along with them for the walk home.

Well, the entire two minutes it takes to get to each of our respective homes, that is.

Even without the added awkwardness of tagging alongside Peeta and his girlfriend, a part of me—a naive, juvenile part—doesn’t want to watch Bailey enter through Peeta’s front door, doesn’t want to accept the fact that she isn’t just spending the night, that his home is now hers too, as a definitive fact.

Within a matter of days, his home is officially her’s. I already know it must be true. But that doesn’t mean I’m anxious by any stretch of the imagination to have the suspicion confirmed.

Haymitch chuckles darkly though, seemingly at my expense, as he lifts his head from the grimy table. “I see someone’s trying to escape before we can light the candles and start singing.”

I blanch the same moment I feel Peeta’s eyes turn and land on me in shock.

I was hoping everyone had forgotten my birthday somehow.

/

Read The Rest On AO3

[thr-333]

Mismatch- Part 7

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

A nice family dinner, not that anyone needs to know that (:

First< Previous> Next

----

“I got the feeling this would happen,” Marion shakes his head, looking at Marinette and Damian, both trying to explain how they ended up fighting.

“And yet you didn’t stop it,” Jason was smirking at the adults. Both looked exhausted, probably from listening to Tom for the past hour or so.

“Me? You encouraged them,” Marion scowls at Jason.

“How?” He was already looking down at him, smirking.

“Really?” Marion raises his brow, the two falling into a staring contest.

“If I hadn't they’d also be getting Alfred’s ‘not angry just disappointed speech’,” Jason relents, looking away from Marion, who was silently gloating his victory.

“Oh, Damian told me about that one,” Marion looks over at Damian as he was arguing with Bruce.

“I still can’t believe Demon spawn was willingly talking with you,” Jason muses.

“Rude,” Marion scoffs, trying not to smile as Jason whips around with a panicked look.

“What?- ah no - I meant-”

“I know,” Marion breaks down in giggles.

“You-”

“This garden is beautiful,” Marion cuts him off, Jason huffs and turns away, “Also Mr Wayne is glaring at you,”

“Let’s go,” Jason spins around and hastily walking into the garden. Marion laughs, jogging to catch up.

“That got you moving,” Marion teases as they walk behind a hedge to hide.

“I am not about to get lectured for Demon-spawns decisions,” Jason snarls, glaring back at where they came from.

“Been meaning to ask about that nickname,” Marion tries to lighten his mood.

“It’s accurate isn’t it?” Jason smirks slightly but Marion can still see the anger behind it.

“He doesn't seem that bad,” Marion mutters, making Jason scoff.

“Trust me, that's the best mood I’ve ever seen him in,” Marion can’t tell if he’s telling the truth or not, but he seems to be relaxing.

“Maybe he just doesn't like you,” Marion teases, before realising with horror just how rude it sounded.

“Oh he definitely doesn't,” Jason snorts, Marion tries not to feel uncomfortable as he seems to cheer up.

“I’m sure he does deep down,” Marion can’t help but to try and fix the situation.

“You can only go so deep,” Jason says, with too much bitterness to be humorous.

“Please, I somehow doubt that anyone has to reach very deep to like you, I don't, you seem nice,” Marion misses Jason's shocked look, instead noticing some nearby flowers, “These are gorgeous,”

“Alfred tends to them, none of us are allowed to touch them,” Jason murmurs quietly, as Marion lightly touches the petals.

“Sorry!” Marion jumps back as if the petals burnt him.

“No you’ll be fine,” Jason chuckles, “We were only ban after the incident,”

“The incident?” Marion still doesn't risk touching the flowers. He’s literally holding the miraculous of destruction. “Sounds ominous,”

“There was a flamethrower involved and that's all I’m telling you,” Jason says definitively, walking away from the flower bed.

“Oh come, you have to tell me now,” Marion stands, bouncing to catch up to him.

“Nope,” Jason keeps his eyes forward.

“Please,” Marion comes forward to walk backwards in front of him, giving him the babydoll eyes.

“Not happening, so stop it with those eyes,” Jason looks away, so Marion turns around and falls back into step with him.

“Never,” Marion stops anyway, not wanting to ruin the light mood by making him irritated again.

They keep walking through the garden, in comfortable silence. Marion starts to hum a tune as he looks around at the foliage. He doesn't notice Jason's eyes are on him, not the scenery.

“Can we stop here for just a minute,” He gestures at a bench, “I need to write this down,”

“Sure,” Jason sits down, Marion sitting next to him, bringing out his notebook to jot down some musical notes and lyric ideas as they came.

“So you write music?” Jason asks, after Marion slows down his rapid pace for a more leisurely one.

“Yeah I sing a little too,” He answers, still mostly distracted but not minding the conversation.

“Written any songs?” Jason already knows the answer as he had been watching Marion do just that.

Marion wanted to laugh. He had albums full of songs that were listened to worldwide, but he couldn't share that. Instead he decided to tell him about before he became MCD.

“My friend Luka and I used to make some together,” They still technically did as Luka worked with him as MCD, not that Luka knew it was him.

“Used to?” Jason repeats.

“Yeah, things got awkward,” Marion pauses, looking up from his book, “You want to hear about the worst love square in history?”

“A love square?” Jason looks puzzled and amused.

“Don’t laugh, it’s possible,” Marion defends, closing his book.

“I think I’m going to need to hear this story to believe it,” Jason turns towards him.

“Alright, Lukas sister Juleka is in our class, that's how Marinette and I met him,” Marion puts his notebook away,  “Nette had-has a crush on… someone else, but Luka liked her,”

“Right,” Jason nods along, as Marion faces him.

“But I liked Luka,” Marion looks away and tries not to blush at the admission. He didn’t any more but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t embarrassing.

“Is he good looking?” Jason teases, leaning into his field of vision.

“Not the point, but yes,” Marion turns back, matching Jason's smirk with a flat look. “The thing is Juleka liked me,”

“And let me guess the ‘someone else’ that Marinette likes is Juleka?” Jason says, getting in on the love square insanity.

“No, but that would bring everything full circle wouldn’t it?” Marion hums contemplatively, “Anyway, I was the first to confess, ending in a very awkward conversation where everything was brought out into the open,”

“Sounds like a pain,” Jason declares with a sympathetic look.

“Yep, after that things got pretty weird, we didn’t have to see Luka much but Juleka is still in our class, she tends to avoid us,” Marion gives a thoughtful frown. Thinking about how it basically sent Juleka to Lila with a wrapper and bow.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Jason says softly, breaking Marion out of his daydream, “People drift apart,”

Marion smiles, pretending not to notice the bitter edge to Jason's voice. He changes the topic to Jason's hobbies, the two striking up a conversation about books they both enjoy. The two keep chatting until Alfred appears out of thin air, making Marion jump.

“Dinner is about to be served, I advise you make your way to the dining room,” Alfred tells them before swiftly leaving.

“Witchcraft,” Marion mutters, making Jason laugh.

“Let’s go, trust me you don’t want to miss Alfred's cooking,” Jason leads Marion back to the manor, keeping up their conversation. They reach the dining room to find everyone, including Dick and Tim at the table.

“Where have you two been?” Aunt Selina grins, as they take their seats, Marion next to Marinette, Jason sitting on his other side.

“The gardens, they’re beautiful Alfred,” Marion tells the man, as he places dishes on the table.

“I’m flattered you think so,” Alfred, not the cat, says.

“Noticed you conveniently disappeared,” Marinette whisper-hisses to him. “I get lectured, you get lectured, it’s all about balance,”

“I’ve been lectured enough today,” He whispers back, then even quieter, “Also I don’t think that's what Tikki meant,”

“Pretty sure it is,” Marinette mutters as the last dish is set down and they are told to begin.

Tim and Jason immediately start to fight. Stealing food from each other as the other is about to grab it, only for Damian to steal it from them both. Bruce ignores them only sending a warning glare that the three either didn’t see or chose to ignore.

“I am so sorry about them,” Dick apologies, trying and failing to subtly stop them.

“Hmmm?” Marion hums, swooping in to steal a piece of meat Jason had been about to claim.  

Jason looks shocked at Marion's teasing smirk. It was probably rude, but hey so was stealing food, Marion went straight for a bite without breaking eye contact. That was apparently a declaration of war as the four of them now started thwarting each other. Marion went for the cooked onions, which he hated, just to stop Damian from getting them. The death glare he got in return had no place at a family dinner.

“I’m so sorry about him,” Marinette parrots Dicks words, completely embarrassed.

Dick didn’t seem to mind so much now anyway, watching their antics with fondness. Bruce had even stopped glaring, instead focusing on trying to keep his amusement off his face. Marion pulled the plate out of reach just as Damian and Tim both went for it. Marinette decides to ignore him. She doesn't attempt to join the fray and instead steals food off his plate. Marion pouts that she didn’t take any of the food he dislikes. Dinner continues like that. The four of them fight over food, taking bites in between, usually as taunts. Meanwhile Marinette had a civil conversation with Aunt Selina, Bruce and Dick.

They finished the meal, it being Alfred who put an end to their fighting by sending them back to the living room. Cat-fred was lying by the fire so Marion goes to sit on the floor near him, petting the purring cat. Damian comes to sit next to him on the floor, while everyone else sits on actual furniture. Marinette next to their Aunt on the couch.

“Marinette, Marion what do you for… fun,” Bruce asks, as if fun is a foreign word to him.

“... I like fashion,” Marinette tells him, once it was clear Marion wasn't going to be distracted from Cat-fred for anything.

“Do you know MDC?” Dick asks, with what Marion unfortunately recognises as fanboy gleam in his eye.

“Uh,” Marionette exchanges a glance with Marion. He looks over to their Aunt who just smiles smugly. “I’ve heard of her,”

Marinette replies bashfully, and Marion's evil twin tendencies kick in.

“Heard of her?” Marion exclaims with a fake disbelieving tone, ignoring Marinette trying to shush him, “She’s MDC’s biggest fan, she's memorised every one of her designs, theres posters and articles all over out room, she knows every event coming up and where it will be, attends all of them,”

Marinette glowers at him with outrage. Marion grins back, he wasn’t lying after all.

“Really? That’s great,” Dick, bless his heart, looks genuinely excited.

“Yeah,” Marintte agrees, still glaring at Marion, “But I don’t like MCD, guy seems like a jerk,”

“Thats where you’re wrong,” Jason snatches their attention, “He's a great guy,”

“I’ve got some pretty good evidence to suggest otherwise,” Marinette glances at him again. If it was meant to make him remorseful, it wasnt working.

“He’s an advocate for super heros, he visits children hospital and orphanages for free, has held numerous anti-bullying campaigns, among others, he donates most of his concerts proceeds to the local charities in the city they are held in, also provides work and recognition to new-

“Well, that isn’t all him, MDC is part of all that too,” Marion squeaks out, face completely flushed, probably to the confusion of every other man in the room.

“Yeah but so is he, so I don’t know how you can consider him ‘a jerk’,” Jason seems genuinely offended and Marion has to hide behind Cat-fred to hide his blush.

“Sorry,” Marinette smiles, not at all sorry, with a teasing edge, “Marion is his biggest and I just wanted to rile him up,���

“You are?” Dick asks, all eyes on him.

“No,” Marion pets Cat-fred, unwilling to meet the others' eyes.

“He knows every song, sings them all the time, and don’t get me started on the dances he's always practicing in our room, he goes to every concert, probably the closest to the stage you can be,” Marinette turns his earlier trick back on him.

“Are you going to the concert in Gotham?” Tim breaks Marion's attention away from Marinette's smug grin.

“Yeah we are, it was Marinete's idea, why she insisted on doing the class trip,” Marion throws in.

“That's not true,” Marinette snaps.

This starts a too long conversation, lead by Dick, about why MDC and MCD are worth the trip. The twins have to spend the next, what felt like an eternity, talking about themselves. Their Aunt seems highly entertained watching them blush whenever a compliment was paid. Marinette tries to ask her to help them out by tapping morse code onto her hand. She finally gives into her pleading and tells them they need to get back to the hotel and rest.

“You two are welcome to stay here, I can make the arrangements,” Bruce offers, walking them out to the car.

“Oh, no that's fine thank you,” Marinette blushes, “We should probably stay with the class,”

“Which we have to thank you for as well,” Marion adds, Marinette looks mortified that she forgot to thank him earlier.

“That’s not necessary, I didn’t play any part in the selection process,” Bruce tells them before Marinette can start apologising, “Although I am certainly glad it was your class who was selected,”

“So are we,” Marinette smiles as they reach the car, “Thank you for tonight, dinner was lovely,”

“It was nice having you,” Bruce watches as they climb into the car, Selina taking the wheel, “Make sure you get some rest,”

“Thank you, we will,” Marinette says through the window. Both knowing perfectly well that was a lie.

They are sent off with a wave and watch as the Mansion travels out of sight.

“Thanks for all the help tonight,” Marion leans forward from the back seat.

“What can I say, it was funny,” Selina laughs, Marinette next to her in the front seat.

“It was embarrassing,” Marion groans, still a blushing mess.

“As if no ones ever talked about you in front of you,” Selina drives along quickly, probably faster than the speed limit would like.

“They have,” Marinette agrees, also blushing, “But that was-”

“So much worse,” Marion hides his face in his hands, peeking through his fingers.

“Worse? Or better?” Selina gives him a sly look from the mirror, “Those boys are big fans of yours, especially Jason,”

“Stooop, I’ve had enough teasing today,” Marion flops across the back seat.

“About what?” Marion realises it was a mistake, letting his Aunt in on gossip.

“Nothing,” Marinette’s tone suggest it was definitely not nothing, “Just ran into his crush for the first time today,”

“Why do you feel the need to hurt me this way,” Marion laments dramatically, making their Aunt laugh.

“Who is it,” She asks Marinette, ignoring him.

“What's the worst way to meet someone?” Marinette asks instead.

“I’d say- wait… Red Hood?” She turns back to him, looking away from the road, much to Marinette’s alarm.

Marion pulls his hood up and over his eyes with a nod. She bursts out laughing.

“Oh of all the-” She shakes her head looking back to the road, “Don’t worry kitten, that's definitely not the worst way to meet someone- I’d know,”

“Not even if you’re wearing his outfit?” Marion says miserably, glaring more than staring out the window as buildings go by.

“Trust me, not the worst thing you could be wearing,” She reaches back to give him a comforting pat on the shoulder, “Is this why you stepped in today?”

“No,” Marion frowns at her, once again, teasing tone, “It was just the right thing to do,”

“Hmmm, I feel it’s probably not the best example to agree with you,” She hums, turning a corner, “But, I’m glad your first instinct was to help people,”

“So-”

“And no, you can not bring that up next time you get in trouble,” She cuts Marinette off, pulling over in front of the hotel, “Now go straight upstairs and get some sleep,”

“Yes Auntie,” They both say mischievously, jumping out of the car leaving her with a suspicious glare.

They wave goodbye, planning to go straight to the roof. They don’t even get off the elevator before Marinette is giving Marion her scarf to turn inside out into a mask.

[galahadwilder]

Kitty Missed the Message, Pt. 2

Part 1

*

"There's thousands of people named 'Adrien' in Paris!" Plagg protests from Adrien's inside shirt pocket. "There's no way she meant you."

"And how many of those Adriens does Ladybug know?" Adrien mumbles, gazing down at the lid on his coffee cup. He sits—no, lies—against the front steps of the school, too tired to even bother trying to keep his back straight. Between the thrill of his new love life and the confusion of her dropping his name, he didn't get any sleep last night; he's allowed to slump a little.

"A lot of them, probably!" Plagg says. "She saves lots of people."

"And how many people has she given a Miraculous to?" Adrien says, gritting his teeth as he contemplates his coffee, then throwing back a sip fast enough to miss his tongue entirely—though it still scalds the back of his throat. He gasps, hacking.

He hates the taste of coffee. Even the burning is better.

"Um," Plagg says, squirming. "Ten?"

"Exactly," Adrien rasps, trying to clear his throat. "They can't all be Adrien. And since she knows Chloé..."

Plagg snuggles grumpily into his chest. "Sometimes I wish you weren't so smart," the Kwami says.

"Too bad you're stuck with me," Adrien says, looking down the street contemplatively. Where is Nino? He's fairly certain he impressed on him the urgency of his dilemma.

As bad as Adrien.

"Am I really that oblivious?" he mutters to himself.

"Well you didn't notice me," Nino says from behind him.

Adrien shrieks, leaping from the steps and stumbling onto the sidewalk, all hackles and hissing. He can feel the pressure on his scalp as his hair tries to stand on end, only to get dragged down by its own weight.

"Dude?" Nino says, shock written across his face.

Adrien looks down at where he flung his coffee, trying to straighten himself without meeting Nino's eyes and hiding the blush burning up his cheeks. "I'm fine!" he yelps. Being a cat is so embarrassing sometimes.

"Dude!" Nino cackles. "I haven't seen you jump like that since the thing with the cucumber!"

"I thought I asked you not to bring that up again," Adrien grumbles, splashing the sole of his foot in his spilled coffee and spreading it dejectedly across the sidewalk. A waste of good caffeine, that is.

Nino’s mouth twists. “Ah. Right,” he says, gently taking Adrien’s forearm. “Sorry, bro.”

”It’s fine,” Adrien says with a slight smile. “I did look like a doof, didn’t I?”

”The doofiest,” Nino says with a nod and a grin. He steps back and folds his arms. “What was so urgent that you needed me at the butt-end of the morning?”

Adrien opens his mouth, closes it again. "I, uh..." he begins. "You... remember that girl I keep saying I like? The one I work with?"

Nino raises an eyebrow. "The one who's not interested in you?"

Adrien's stomach bottoms out. "Yeah," he says. "Or, well. No?” He looks down at his feet, scratching at the back of his neck. How to put this? “It's gotten... weird."

Nino crosses his arms with a wry grin, sinking his weight backward into an uncharacteristically sassy sort of pose, the one he’s been doing more often the more time he spends with Alya. "Weird how?"

Adrien closes his eyes, breathes in, breathes out. "According to her,” he says, picking his thumbnails into his fingers, “yesterday was our one-month anniversary."

Nino’s silence is somehow louder than any words would have been. Adrien opens one eye, wincing, bracing for judgement, only to see confused pride on his friend’s face.

"So... wait," Nino finally says, pushing up his glasses and rubbing his sinuses with his fingers. "Let me—let—” He shakes his head. “You're dating her now?"

Adrien shrugs in distress. "Yes?" he says with another wince. "I'm... it's confusing." He raises his fingers to his lips, the memory of the softness of Ladybug's mouth on his own warming his face. "She... did kiss me last night. Unprompted."

Nino's eyes grow wide. "Dude," he says, holding out his fist. "Dap."

Adrien taps his knuckles against Nino's, still a little too confused to properly appreciate the situation.

“Come on,” Nino says. “Let’s head inside, we can talk while sitting.”

Adrien nods, following without really meaning to move his legs at all.

“So what changed?” Nino says as they walk down the hallway toward their lockers.

“What do you mean?” Adrien says, his eyes wandering. His head still feels a little fuzzy, to be honest.

Nino shrugs. “Well, I mean...” he says, “there’s gotta have been some kind of change, right? That led to her changing her mind?”

The side of Adrien’s mouth twists. “I got nothing,” he mumbles.

Nino turns to stare at him, then snorts and rolls his eyes. “Not surprised,” he says. “You’re not always the best at noticing things like that.”

”That’s... actually why I wanted to talk to you,” Adrien says. “Am I... really that oblivious?”

Nino stops walking and sighs. ”I...” He catches his tongue between his teeth. “You know how pretty much everyone we know has had a crush on Marinette at some point?"

Adrien gives a small smile. “Of course,” he says. That’s pretty much a given.

Nino nods. "Did you ever wonder why she never took anyone up on it until last month?"

"Yeah," Adrien says. "She had a guy she liked, right?"

Nino’s shoulders slump. "Yeah," He says. "You."

Adrien's train of thought comes to a screeching halt. "What?" he says.

Nino reaches out and claps Adrien’s shoulder. “She had a crush on you, dude.”

Adrien blinks. “But, her new boyfriend... wasn’t he the guy?”

Nino snorts. “Nope,” he says. “It was you, bro. And you were the only one who never knew.”

Adrien feels like lightning has been rammed into his skull. As bad as Adrien... it couldn’t be, right?

There’s no way.

*

Class isn’t as difficult as he was expecting. It’s worse. Nino’s words aren’t much to go on—in fact, they’re nothing at all, but it’s the first clue he’s had. So his brain, scrambled from exhaustion and caffeine as it is, can’t stop flitting around Marinette.

First: Kwamibuster. He’d been certain she was Ladybug, all the evidence he’d needed had been there, they were so alike, so brilliant and energetic... and then he’d seen them right next to each other. Different people? Illusion? And then Marinette had suddenly picked up a boyfriend, one who nobody in the class had met, and Adrien had been... so disappointed, but he could never pinpoint why.

When was that, anyway?

Was it a month ago?

He can’t pay any attention to anything that’s happening in front of him—the only thing he can hear is Marinette, Marinette, Marinette. It can’t be her, right? But his brain won’t let it go.

”So, how was your anniversary date?” Alya says with what Adrien can only assume is a sly grin. He can see her exact expression, even though he’s trying desperately not to turn around. Not to let on that he’s listening.

Marinette makes a sound like she’s swallowed her tongue. “Uh! W-weird, actually.”

Alya hums. “Weird how?” He hears the flannel of her shirt slide against the desk as she leans toward Marinette. “How’d the ‘plan’ go?”

Marinette squeaks. Adrien squirms in his seat, staring at his hands, screaming in his head not to turn around. He’s ignoring the way Nino is staring at him, trying to hold still.

”Come on, girl, spill!” Alya whispers. “Did you kiss him?”

”Yep!” Marinette squeaks.

”Oh my god you’re so red!” Alya cackles. Then her voice drops to a hiss. “Tell me everything!”

Marinette swallows. “I mean... it was really weird?” she says. “He... didn’t know we were dating?”

Adrien’s blood rushes to his ears like a vise around his skull, crushing inward. Didn’t know we were dating. That’s—it’s impossible.

Alya snorts. “Girl, are you sure you’re not dating Adrien?”

Adrien doesn’t hear Marinette’s response. He doesn’t hear much of anything until lunchtime, really.

Marinette is Ladybug. He’s going to explode.

*

“Hi, Mari!” he says as soon as she closes her locker.

She shrieks, leaping backward, scattering her papers on the ground, and Adrien immediately feels a rush of guilt at surprising her—but cats are 60% bastard, and he can’t help taking a little joy in it.

Marinette heaves a breath, pressing her hand to her chest. “Adrien!” she gasps. “You’ve gotta stop doing that!”

Adrien feels a grin spread across his face. “Never,” he drawls, leaning a bit into her space. “You’re too much fun to scare.”

Marinette smirks, pressing a finger to his sternum. “Well maybe I’ll just start sneaking up on you.”

Adrien’s heart begins to beat hard in his chest at her touch, at her smile. Oh, it’s her, it’s her, it’s her. And she’s not scared of him anymore, and now he knows exactly why that is...

”Can—can I talk to you?” he gasps out. “In private?”

Marinette’s eyebrows tighten, concern in her eyes. “Everything okay?”

It strikes him through the ribs, the way she cares about him, the way she makes his problems hers, and he knows she deserves the universe. He’s loved her, both of her, since the day they met, and she’s loved both of him, and if she asked him to steal the sun for her he’d burn himself alive snatching it from the sky. “Everything’s fine!” he says, gripping her arm. “Everything’s... great, actually.” He flashes her a smile, his fan’s favorite smile, hoping to put her at ease.

Instead, she tenses. “That’s your fake smile,” she says, her eyes narrowing.

Adrien blinks. “You can tell?” he says.

Marinette’s eyes widen, and her face goes bright red. “I—uh—”

Adrien bites his lip. Right, she’s been in love with him forever—knowing how she is, how the hammer-force of her attention slams down on everything she cares about, she probably noticed everything about him. It’s a wonder she didn’t figure out his identity.

”It’s fine!” he says. “I was just—trying to put you at ease, you know?”

Marinette sets her jaw and nods, glancing around the locker room, cataloguing everyone in the room the way she does when she’s trying to work out a Lucky Charm. “Classroom’s empty?”

Adrien nods. “Classroom.”

*

Marinette sits down on his desk, crossing her legs and leaning forward. “What’s up?”

Adrien looks away, breathes in. “How’s things with your boyfriend?”

Marinette blinks. “Adrien?” she says. There’s a note of... something in her voice. Hope? Anger? Disappointment? Maybe all three. You’re paying attention to me now? it seems to say.

“Last night was your anniversary, right?” Adrien says, looking at her. The pigtails. The eyes, bluer than blue. The earrings he’s only ever seen her take off once—the day Lady Noire showed up instead of Ladybug. Everything about her is the same, even the fire in her eyes.

Marinette’s eyes narrow. “Adrien, if this is about—”

”To be fair, My Lady,” he interrupts, slashing a Chat smile across his face, “you never actually told me we were dating.”

Marinette’s face goes slack, her mouth open, her eyes wide. “I—what?” she whispers. “You... no. No way. You—you can’t...” She straightens, breathing in, gathering herself. “Kitty?” she whispers.

Adrien grins, pressing one arm to his waist and throwing the other out wide with a bow. “Always at your service,” he says.

Suddenly he’s halfway to the floor, falling backwards, Marinette’s tiny hands seizing bunches of his lapels, her lips strawberry-sweet on his. They slam against the ground, together, entwined, gasping, together. Peppering each other with kisses.

“Kitty—”

“My Lady—”

“Princess—”

”Adrien—”

”Marinette—”

”I love you,” he gasps, clutching her chest against his own, and she stiffens.

”I... have been waiting to—to hear you say that... for—for two years,” she stammers.

He presses a kiss to her temple. “I’ve been saying it in private every day,” he says. “And I will say it to you every day for as long as you want it.”

Plagg snorts. “I can confirm,” he says. “Every frickin’ day with this kid. Both identities, too!”

Marinette giggles. “You should hear some of the stuff I said about you,” she says. Then her eyes widen. “Or—maybe not, please don’t—”

Tikki giggles from inside her purse. “I’m telling him anyway!”

Marinette’s eyes shoot to her bag. “Betrayal!” she hisses.

Adrien giggles, and Marinette laughs too, and the two of them just dissolve into laughter. Then, suddenly, Marinette stops.

”Oh,” she says. “Oh, no.”

Adrien blinks. “My Lady?”

Marinette fixes her burning gaze on his eyes. “What are we going to tell Alya?”

[peachymess]

How ridiculous, Isayama has lost all respect from me, can he stop beating a dead horse? And he even had the audacity to mock GoT for a shit ending. Hypocrite. I’m almost disgusted by this.

Well, to be fair, let’s wait until the altered chapter is actually out before we take anything for granted. The spoilers could all be fake. Hell, “8 new pages” could even be a lie. Who knows?

So let’s not get too riled up just yet. That being said, I get that we’ve all invested years and in some cases lots of money into this series, and that such a let down as the original last chapter is understandably a slap in the face for many. We’re allowed to be upset, even before the 8 new pages. You’re allowed to be appalled by it.

But I want you to consider this: Isayama isn’t more a god than the rest of us. He isn’t necessarily smarter, more knowing or more talented. He’s just a guy with a story that caught on. A pretty young guy too. When he said he wasn’t fit to tackle the ever growing magnitude of the themes he began baking into his story, he was right. At least he knows it. He bit over more than he could chew. When he mocked GOT, I don’t think he ever intended to fail his own ending as miserably as he did (in many people’s eyes). He wasn’t the only one to mock GOT either, mind. I still consider GOT the biggest TV ending disaster of all time (go on, fight me). As a writer, I imagine that I’ll nail my own book endings in the future. But I might not. I’ve started pondering a bit about who so many endings fail lately. Isayama said that initially he believed everyone would be happy with the ending... I have this theory that the person working on a story, becomes blind to it. They don’t see what it looks like to consumers who just take in the finished product.

Have you ever written/worked on a text (homework, fanfic, university papers, etc.) that took you a while? Did you ever have to take a step back to find back to what it was you were actually trying to say? To look at where you were getting stuck and why? I think it’s quite common but if you haven’t, let me tell you: it happens. You become blind to what the story actually looks like.

I believe Isayama has worked on SNK for so long that he doesn’t see what it looks like to outsiders anymore. He doesn’t see what’s lacking because when he’s got the characters in his head constantly, he doesn’t see that there’s a gap about them actually not put to paper that needs to be filled for the reader. He doesn’t see that what this or that part of something has gone on for too long or not long enough, because he’s time-blind after having thought about it for what feels like an eternity.

I’m only theorizing, of course. But his comment about thinking everyone will be satisfied is what makes me think he has to be blind to the story. And I don’t mean that as an insult, but as an explanation. Because, I mean, think about it. Who would willingly shit on a series for its awful ending, only to embarrass themselves by doing the same? Ya look dumb. Who, whom thinks about and apparently hopes for everyone to be pleased by the end, would subvert that goal on purpose? Add to that the fact that I believe he’s lol tired and eager to be done with it, and I think that’s what’s going on here. He doesn’t mean to fail his fans so miserably, I think he’s just blind and tired.

... but that being said, OG ending and 8-spoilers are both absolutely clowning on us and no amount of explanation takes away the right for us to react accordingly. I’m just not as mad as some of his other fans. I don’t see him as someone denying me the good ending he was able to give, I see him as a creator not equips to pull off what he wanted to do and his fans being disappointed as a result. Which is awkward and unfortunate, but I can forgive lack of skill.

[maruzzewrites]

(Every breathe you) Take #1

Hello! This is what was supposed to be the April’s Fool fic but I didn’t write it in time. It’s an Actor AU in the “universe” of EBYT. All nice and cool. Not real content warnings.

You looked down at your car’s clock. It was barely late afternoon, maybe he was in class. You let the phone fall onto the passenger’s seat, and continued to drive.

“Cut!”

The director shouts. Your shoulders go lax and the tension melts over your back, making you slump over the fake car seat. You stretch as everyone around starts to walk around, taking props and placing them outside the set. You climb out and look around to see your fellow actors, all gathered somewhere just outside the current scene.

You try to catch up with them, but you are stopped halfway. You almost trip over some cables on the ground when your manager calls you. She rushes to grab your arm, and you can see the burning desire to reprimand how clumsy you can be. She decides against it, yanking you straight and clearing her throat.

“You remember you got an interview today, right?” Her question is simple and, luckily, you do remember. Having an acting role is a new thing to you, especially with the role of the protagonist, and you did mess up a bit at the start. You are so used to minor roles or filling other positions around the set that you needed a bit to pick up the pace.

“Of course,” you answer. You see she is about to speak again, you even know about what: you need to plan what to say and what to omit during this interview. But you really don’t want to think about it, not with the filming being finished for the day. You will catch up later, “I will see you later. I need to do something…”

Before she can protest, you march away towards your colleagues. They’re now outside the building to allow some of them a quick smoke break, and they welcome you in their little circle without any problem. You look at each of them, and you find it hilarious how similar they are to their own characters – without the threatening auras, of course.

“So,” you cross your arms, “do you guys know what to say in this interview?”

 “Excuse me,” One of the reporters raises his hand, a pen between his fingers. You look up at him and ask him to ask whatever he wants. He grins, “Thank you. So, can you tell us anything more about the idea behind this show?”

“Well,” you start and look around the other actors to see if someone wants to speak instead. No one even attempts, so it’s in your hands, “I was said it was supposed to be about normalcy and what it means in a dangerous place. The director has experience with people who are called not so legally to clean at strangers’ houses and wanted to show it more.”

The reporter thanks you for the answer, even seems to want to ask one more, but someone else jump on the occasion to inquiry, “Did you choose it because of the premise? It seemed like a difficult role for a new actor.”

You think about it a bit, “I liked the premise. It’s dark and I don’t know if I can fake falling in love more than being scared. These goons make it rather easy, too.”

You point at them with your thumbs; some of them chuckle, some of them roll their eyes, some seem more embarrassed than anything. You hope you haven’t offended them too bad – it’s not your fault they really look rather menacing at times.

“Means we are good actors,” Formaggio chimes in, grinning like a fox. He turns to you and points a finger, “You too. Sometimes I really think we are intimidating you. The first time you saw Risotto, you looked like you saw a ghost.”

Some of the people in the room giggle at that, while Risotto pouts a little at the observation. The poor man can’t help his appearance or his size, and you came to understand he is one of the calmest and nicest people in that group. To avenge him of this direct insult, you decide to tease Formaggio a bit, “Look who’s talking. You’re the one who looks like he belongs in an actual gang, here.”

The joke makes even the imperturbable Prosciutto crack a smile, along with the sneer from Illuso at Formaggio’s frown. You even see the next reporter barely contain a laugh when she raises her had to speak, “You seem to get along quite well. Do you find it interesting to work with your colleagues on this project?”

The question is general, but you figure you talked enough for all of them. When a second too much of silence lingers, Melone is happy to jump in, “I enjoy it quite a bit! I barely get the opportunity to work with people who are so funny.”

“Really?” Ghiaccio almost yells, before he can reign in his tone. His inside voice is still loud, but it borders a stage whisper, “Because you’re really annoying during breaks. You say the most inane things and we’re supposed to just take it.”

Melone smiles, affable, “As I said, funny. You’re all entertaining. I get why you would become actors!”

Someone in the public clears his throat and then stands up to speak. Doesn’t really wait for his turn, but no one seems to mind besides turning around in their seats to look at him. He asks, “How did you come to accept your parts? You seem like a very varied bunch.”

The others look at each other, then Prosciutto takes the stage, “Formaggio tried for the role before us, then told us about the auditions. I assume we were just the right fit for the characters.”

The reporter nods and then looks at you with expectation. You don’t have quite the same story to them, “I… I just wanted to try for a big role, for once. I was told I had the face for the story, even if now I knows it means being somewhat average.”

A bit of an awkward silence before someone – Melone, specifically – intervenes, “I don’t think you are average or plain. You just give a friendly vibe.”

You smile at him just when Illuso decides to speak up, “That’s a nice way to say homely.”

He gains a light punch in the arm since he is sitting right next to you, which makes him chuckle and pretend to fall over on his chair. Ghiaccio, sitting at his other side, shoves him almost violently when they are close to touching. Risotto tells them to calm down.

“Do you have anything to tell us about the future of the show?” A reporter takes advantage of the ruckus to ask before anyone else can. He looks at every actor for a handful of seconds each before elaborating, “Fans really want to know what’s coming up in the near future.”

You ponder on answering that one question. You don’t let anyone chime in before you take your decision, explaining, “I don’t think we can reveal too much, but what’s coming is probably obvious. You know about stories with gangs. There may be something surprising to it, maybe.”

The reporter nods and waits patiently. You just shoot him a kind smile and you can almost see the disappointment coloring his face. You were told not to speak too much about the future plot, direct orders from the director and your manager – who was very eager to let you know how much you needed to shut your mouth.

The reporter evidently knows when to drop it because he doesn’t prob further. The rest of the interview goes smoothly, with jokes and teasing, with answered questions. People are really curious about the show despite being so grim, but you appreciate the fans.

At the end of the whole thing, you wonder what you will read the following days in online articles from those reporters.

 “Have you seen the new theories? People are really quick to take every ounce of info they can get from exclusives.” Melone scrolls his phone right before leaving it inside the pockets of his jacket, ready to put on his outfit.

You hum in response, too busy rereading the script for the episode. You hope you will finish quickly so that you go somewhere and eat with your colleagues – it’s been a while since your last lunch together. It may or not be because you end up giggling during the most tense scenes, during the first few takes.

Melone leaves you alone, wishing you good luck for the first scene of the day. You take a deep breath and replay it in your mind, trying to visualize it.

Going back home after a stressful day. After having to play a game of cat and mouse with dangerous men, wanting nothing more than a doll in their hands. You feel the tension harden your muscles, your shoulders and back stiff with anxiety.

You are a cleaner dealing with something too big for you, and you return to that house.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

(Accidental 150 Follower Special) IOTA’s Top 10 Worst Episodes of Miraculous Ladybug (Part 2)

Here’s Part 1

#5: Glaciator

Here's a good lesson to teach these incredibly impressionable children watching: If you're not in a romantic relationship by the time you're a teenager, you're a loser! And if someone says they just want to be friends, ignore that obvious hint that they're not into you and keep trying to impress them.

Marinette joins her friends to get some ice cream sold by the worst ice cream vendor in the world, Andre. Like, they have to find out where he's going to set up through a series of clues, they don't get a choice to order the flavors they like (and that's not even taking allergies into consideration), and he only gives a single cone to a couple to share while going on and on about how he knows about who someone really loves, and oh my God, why is this man still in business?

Surprisingly, as dumb as it is for Andre to get akumatized over a single customer doubting his magic ice cream, he's not the reason this episode is on the list. That honor goes to Cat Noir.

At the beginning of the episode, Cat Noir drops the pretenses and asks Ladybug out on a date.

Cat Noir: What would you say if you and I met up tonight for a little dinner? Rooftop style?

Ladybug: For dinner? As superheroes?

Cat Noir: Well, yeah. That's right. We're only together when we're saving Paris. I mean, wouldn't you actually like to get to know one another?

Ladybug: I... That's so thoughtful of you, but I can't. I already have plans with some friends.

Cat Noir: Well, if your plans end early, come and join me.

Ladybug: We'll see.

Cat Noir: I'll be waiting, my lady.

Notice that Ladybug doesn't say that she's coming, and mentions that she already has plans. Even the irresponsible Plagg points this out.

Plagg:You seem in a hurry to get stood up.

Adrien: She didn't say she wasn't coming.

Plagg: But she didn't say she was either!

So when Ladybug obviously doesn't come, Cat Noir just decides to mope around, acting like he was left at the altar, and when they meet up to take on the titular Glaciator, Cat Noir gets all pissy that Ladybug didn't come.

Ladybug: Hello, Kitty. Did the bad guys leave you cold?

Cat Noir: (sounding like his staff got shoved up his ass) How was your amazing evening with your “friends”?

Again, Ladybug never said she was going to meet up with Cat Noir that night, because she had plans. Even later episodes like “Stormy Weather 2” claim that Ladybug stood up Cat Noir, when she DIDN'T! There was never anything set in stone, so Cat Noir can't say that Ladybug stood him up.

Even after the fight, when Ladybug tells Cat Noir that she only sees him as a friend, afterwards, Adrien still thinks he has a shot with her.

Adrien: Perhaps Ladybug will love me someday. I mean, like, I love her. I have to believe. In the meantime, her friendship is the best gift of all.

Dude. Take. A. Goddamn. Hint.

As ironic as the circumstances are, Ladybug just said she isn't into Adrien, and he's still going to go after her. And spoiler alert, his attempts to woo her are only going to get worse from here.

Yeah, this episode is heavy on the romance, and the idealized vision of what the writers think being in a relationship is like. Admittedly, I have a more jaded view of romantic plotlines, as the only real relationship I had ended right before my senior year of high school, and it gave me serious trust issues as a result because of how badly it ended, so I don't want to consider myself an expert in relationships.

But at the same time, that breakup helped me learn to not prioritize being in a relationship, and just focus on self-improvement. If that was the lesson the episode was going for, I'd get it, but we never get anyone say that. All everyone in this episode talks about is how awesome being in love with someone is.

The fact that the audience is supposed to find Cat Noir's behavior charming is disgusting, and I can't believe that Astruc condones this kind of writing.

In addition to continuing the trend of making Cat Noir oblivious to the word “no”, This episode also managed to do the impossible and make me hate ice cream with a fiery passion.

#4: Copycat

This show is really bad with writing episodes about evil doppelgangers, and like with “Antibug”, it's about Ladybug getting blamed for something she had nothing to do with.

A statue of Ladybug and Cat Noir is being unveiled, but because Marinette is preoccupied with trying to make sure Adrien doesn't receive an embarrassing voicemail she accidentally sent him, she isn't able to attend the unveiling ceremony as Ladybug. So when the sculptor mentions he has feelings for Ladybug, Cat Noir says this:

Cat Noir: Hey, don't mean to burst your bubble, but you know, Ladybug and me, we're a thing, you know?

The Sculptor: Really?

Cat Noir: Yeah, we're like this (crosses his fingers to show how close they are).

This exchange is never mentioned in the episode ever again, despite being what gets the sculptor akumatized.

Copycat, the akumatized form of the sculptor, is a reused character model copy of Cat Noir, and so like every impostor storyline in every TV show ever made, the public immediately turns on Cat Noir when Copycat frames him to the point where the police try to arrest him.

In case you couldn't tell, once again, Cat Noir is a big part of why this episode is so awful. If his entitlement issues were actually brought to light and he learns to not act like he and Ladybug are meant to be, it would have worked. Instead, it's Ladybug who is blamed for Copycat happening. Seriously, Cat Noir gives Ladybug heat for not being at the statue unveiling, like it was her fault the sculptor was akumatized.

Even later on, when Ladybug has trouble telling the difference between the two cats, Cat Noir has the gall to say “Have I ever lied to you, Bugaboo?”

HEY! Shat Noir! Lying is the reason you're Public Enemy #1 right now! You have no right to act like Ladybug deserves your trust, especially after you lied about your relationship with her!

This episode was also a little... uncomfortable to watch for a reason. For point of reference, here is the sculptor before he got akumatized.

While I can't read your mind, I'm going to take a wild guess and assume that you, the reader, are thinking “How old is this man, exactly?”

For a while, people in the Miraculous fandom were a little creeped out by this man because the episode unintentionally made it look like this grown-ass man was in love with a teenage girl. It wasn't until March of 2020 that Astruc clarified his age.

But by then, the damage had been done, with some fan works, most notably Zoe-Oneesama's Scarlet Lady, calling his age into question (though ironically, the comic ended with the revelation that he is around the same age as the main cast about five months before Astruc's tweet).

The only thing this episode really accomplished was set the stage for Adrien's worst moments by showing how self-centered he can be, no matter how the show tries to portray his feelings for Ladybug.

#3: Ladybug (The Episode, Obviously)

This is where the Lila subplot comes to a head because Astruc didn't think it would make sense for Lila to play a part in the season finale, and it doesn't fail to disappoint... mostly because everyone had expectations so low, they've made their way to the Earth's core.

Lila frames Marinette for cheating on a test, stealing her grandmother's necklace, and pushing her down a flight of stairs (despite showing no visible injuries). Despite no investigation being launched, Marinette is immediately expelled from school with nobody believing her except Alya. Why is she suddenly on Marinette's side again, despite falling for Lila's lies so many times before, while reiterating that she's still her best friend? Because the plot says so.

And if the episode was about Alya investigating Lila and proving Marinette's innocence, it would have been okay, and could have led to some great character development for her.

Of course, that doesn't happen, as the idea of Marinette being expelled was that gripping of a plot, as the focus of the episode immediately shifts over to Hawkmoth attempting to create another army of Akumas like what he did in “Heroes' Day”... only for Nathalie's failing health to force him to abort the plan, making the entire moment pointless.

Instead, despite how dangerous it is to transform using the Peacock Miraculous, Nathalie becomes Mayura and creates another evil doppelganger of Ladybug. What is it with the writers and evil doppelgangers of the heroes? Did someone on the writing team really like the Spider-Man Clone Saga?

And when Cat Noir sees the doppelganger, well... I didn't mention a certain scene in “Puppeteer 2” because I felt it would be better to talk about it here.

During the battle with the pathetic wax statues, Cat Noir briefly lets his guard down around yet another evil doppelganger of Ladybug, this time, it's a wax statue being controlled by Puppeteer 2 (even though the way she talks is nothing like the way Puppeteer's minions talked because it was five-year-old girl doing the talking). The wax Ladybug goes in for a kiss, and Cat Noir almost lets her take his Miraculous if not for the wax smell giving it away, and not, you know, the complete 180 she took in terms of suddenly wanting to kiss him for no reason.

Okay, it's a little shaky, but Cat Noir still caught on. He'd never fall for a fake Ladybug just because she said she loved him, right?

Yes. He seriously took the side of the impostor all because of the sudden love confession. Just how MORONIC can one person be? If Caity Lotz randomly showed up at my doorstep and claimed she loved me, I wouldn't immediately start making out with her. I would want to know what the hell she's doing here, and why she suddenly declared her love for me.

But Cat Noir seriously falls for the fake Ladybug for the dumbest reason possible. He seriously doesn't think it's weird that Ladybug suddenly confessed her love for him?

And then Ladybug gets the charm that the fake Ladybug was created from, and suddenly, she's a good guy? Before we even get time to think about this, Mayura just erases the fake Ladybug from existence, and now we're supposed to feel bad that she's gone?

Even the expulsion subplot is easily resolved, as after an interesting scene with Adrien coercing Lila to confess in exchange for letting her model alongside her, Marinette is just let back into school with no difficulties. I mean, it's not like her parents would be pissed that their daughter was framed and possibly want to take legal action against the school, right?

And I have to reiterate, this is the last we see of Lila this season because Astruc thinks Chloe is far worse and deserves to be punished for working with Hawkmoth.

Between Marinette getting expelled, a second Scarletmoth attack, and the fake Ladybug, this episode just has too much going on, and it makes it incredibly hard to follow. If it was a two-parter, I think it could have been better paced, but from we got, it's just a mess of a poorly paced episode.

#2: Frozer

Wow, you probably didn't expect to see this episode on this list. I mean, everyone in the Miraculous fandom loves this episode!

Where should I even start? Maybe the scene from the trailer where Adrien reveals his identity to Ladybug... only for it to be a daydream. Because why would we actually want a reveal or have Adrien confess his feelings to Ladybug without the mask?

Yep, despite Ladybug saying that she only sees Cat Noir as a friend, as well as the fact that she loves someone else, he still can't help but try to make her fall for him. But don't worry, I'll get back to their relationship later on.

After that, Marinette agrees to come to the ice rink with Adrien so he isn't as nervous around Kagami, who is awful in this episode. Remember when Astruc elaborated on Kagami line telling Marinette to not hesitate as a warning to move her ass or Adrien was hers

Doesn't that just make everyone love Kagami as a character, and not as a forced love rival instead?

And this is the episode where the romance subplot in Miraculous Ladybug went from having an interesting concept with the Love Square, and turned it into a generic love triangle plotline thanks to Luka. I love Lukanette, but the whole love triangle only gives less time for the four sides of the Love Square to shine. It doesn't help that Marinette's conflicted feelings are brushed over so we can focus on the titular Frozer, who only gets three lines while akumatized.

And now back to the Whiny Cat Noir Show. For no reason, Cat Noir is suddenly all angry when he sees Ladybug, and just like in “Glaciator”, it's never acknowledged. Though at least here, Cat Noir admits that Ladybug's plan to defeat Frozer is right.

And then there's the ending, where it looks like Marinette is going to confess her feelings to Adrien... only for that to also be a daydream.

Hey, if any of the Miraculous Ladybug writers are reading this... STOP TEASING THE AUDIENCE LIKE THIS AND CUT THE BULLSHIT ALREADY!

This episode is proof that the romance subplot will just be drawn out even more, all while teasing the audience with potential confessions and reveals just to keep them hooked. And yet, it was only a taste of what the romance would be like in Season 3.

And even then, I still think one episode is worse than this.

#1: FELIX.

I hate this episode. It is among the worst episodes of any TV show I have ever seen. Not just for the writing, but for what it represents. Let's just say that like “Animaestro”, Astruc had a hand in the way this episode turned out, and unlike “Animaestro”, there was a big fallout on Twitter.

In fact, I'm sorry to keep leading you down the rabbit hole like this, but I think this episode deserves its own post. Or rather, its own posts.

For now, I'm going to work on the list of the best episodes to help me recover my sanity.

[detroitbydark]

Every Dog Has His Day

Chapter 3

Characters: Hound/OC

Summary: Good boys, fuck boys, and the things between

Warnings: Aggression toward women.

A/N: does anyone feel like I should put Mando’a translations in at the end? Would it be helpful?

——-

“Good morning GAR. It’s 0400. What does “o” stand for? Well I can think of a few things but let’s go with Oh maker, I’m ready to hit the rack. Any boys in white care to join me?”

Hound would. In a heartbeat. In a Coruscant minute.

Hound is in the gym early. Really early. He’s never needed much sleep to function at his peak but 0400 is stupid o’clock even for him. He passes the time until the mess opens lifting while Grizzer snores near his armor across the room. Right now the massiff is using his rolled up kama as a pillow and Hound wonders idly how hard it’s going to be to clean the drool off. He’s alone with his thoughts and the radio.

He falls into the steady rhythm of sets and reps. He wasn’t a small vod by any means. There’s been a joke in his batch that the settings had malfunctioned on his pod. He was only a half an inch taller, but he was thicker than his batchmates, not commando big but enough to be noticeable in a line up. Lifting weights kept his bulk from atrophying. He didn’t mind the small layer of fluff over his muscles but he wanted them strong and ready for whatever the Grand Army called him to do.

The radio plays quietly over the weight room’s audio channel. Nuna’s smokey voice is a highlight too late to save a very bad week. Two bombings and a half dozen threats (most, copy cats) had kept the Guard on edge and high alert. He and Grizzer had worked them all, tracking and searching wreckage for survivors. Hound glances at his partner. One too many dead bodies had left the massiff feeling dejected and down. Not even his favorite tug toy or a big meaty bantha knuckle has been able to cheer him up. Hound isn’t feeling much better.

He’s not sure what was causing the surge but he knows he’d give just about anything for it to be over with. On top of that (and a far better distraction than the chaos and death of terrorist attacks), there was still the matter of Nuna herself that had him spun out of sorts. They’d had fun at the Fete, even if it had only been a short time. She hadn’t been faking that and he certainly hadn’t. Maybe he’d come on too strong with the call but, honestly, he’d thought it was cute. Maybe he’d embarrassed her?

He wasn’t ready to give up just yet. It was how he’d gotten his name. Tenacious like a hound. The trainers on Kamino had joked that once he was on a trail he wasn’t giving up ‘til he completed his prime objective.

His prime objective now was getting Nuna Skii’s commlink. And a date.

It didn’t matter that Rule had teased him after his on-air brush-off or that Ryk had given him a look that said he didn’t believe he'd had lunch with anybody let alone Nuna Skii. Hound knew though, and he knew that she’d had fun. If she hadn't, why had she smiled so brightly when he’d asked her questions? Why had she braced her hand on his arm and dissolved into laughter when he said something that was, admittedly, not as funny as it sounded in his head?

The barbell comes to rest on the rack with a clatter. Grizzer looks up from his nap, his great tongue licking lazily at his maw.

“Do you think I’m being stupid?”

The massiff stares blankly.

“Well, yeah, but she did seem interested.”

Grizzer rises slowly, stretching with a groan before ambling over to his partner and laying his head in Hound’s lap. He manages to roll onto his back without losing contact. Hound reaches down to scratch his leathery belly.

“Yeah, well, there’s something about her I really like. I think I should try again.”

Grizzer whines.

“But how, you ask? I’m not sure, bud.”

“In bigger news, it’s the end of the week and I think we all deserve a bit of a treat, don’t you?”

Grizzer turns toward Nuna’s voice and lets out a happy sound. Hound laughs.

“No treats before breakfast, Grizz. You know the rules.” The massiff offers his handler a sad pair of eyes and Hound shakes his head. “Not gonna fall for that.”

“Tonight ladies and lads we’re having ladies’ night at 79’s. Come find yourself a battle buddy and if one of you lucky listeners can find me I may have a special surprise just for you!”

Hound listens intently. Ryk and Rule were sure to be down for a night out after the week they’d had. The Commander has been busy keeping his assistant working late so he likely wouldn’t be game - not that Hound could blame him - but Thire might be convinced. Since the scuffle with the 501st boys a few weeks back the buddy system has been in play. The more the merrier as far as he was concerned. Now all he had to do was find a way to talk to her.

———

“If you pull on the skirt one more time, I swear to the maker I will end you.”

Nuna rolls her eyes at Tully’s threat. The skirt was too short and the Pantoran was out of her fekking mind if she thought this wouldn’t be the way the rest of the night played out.

“I dressed you pretty for a reason. Stop trying to ruin it.”

“I look like a cased sausage.” She tries - and fails - to keep the whine from her voice. Tully softens and grips her shoulders gently.

“First off, if that's the case, you are the sexiest sausage I’ve ever seen.” Nuna stifles a laugh behind a pout. “Second,” Nuna winces as her friend punches her in the shoulder, “There’s more where that came from if I hear one more second of negative self talk tonight. Got me?”

“Kriff Tull-“ Nuna rubs at her shoulder. “Fine, I’m the sexiest sausage Coruscant has ever seen. Just don’t hurt me anymore.”

The Pantoran laughs and leans forward, placing a smacking kiss on the shorter woman’s head. “I love you and your issues,” she mumbles.

“Can we just have a drink now?”

79’s is packed. Shebs to gett’se. There’s the usual mix of clones from various divisions and battalions crowded in small groups of grey and white with pops of color signaling who they were to the world. There’s also a large contingent of women - every species, color and shape known to man. Nuna smiles happily as she brings her drink to her lips only to frown a moment later at the deep plum smear of lipstick on the glass.

“No transfer my ass,” she grumbles as she takes another long pull. Tully bought the first round, and whatever it is is sweet on Nuna’s tongue like star cherry candy with the familiar burn of booze behind it. It’s good but if she fills her night with more of them she’ll be nursing a killer hangover come morning. “I’ve got the next round.”

“As if I was going to let you get away without paying your fair share.”

Nuna rolls her eyes as she finishes the last of her drink. She’s already feeling just a little bit more loose and relaxed. Her hips move in a mindless, lazy figure-eight to the driving thud of the bass. Not her favorite, but Nuna loved to dance nearly as much as she loved music. Well maybe not that much, but certainly a close second.

Back home on Irmenu both had been frowned upon by the Priesthood and if they didn’t approve it was almost heretical to go against them. It hadn’t been ‘til she’d been exiled with her parents that she’d heard her first real music - outside of mindless chanting - and her first experience with really letting go and letting her body take over. It was freeing. Liberating. It was at that moment that she’d known she wanted to work around it, to be part of it somehow, for the rest of her life. It had been the driving force for so long that she had a hard time looking outside of it. Maybe that was how she’d gotten to nearly 25 and had nothing but a paycheck and an empty apartment to keep her company. Tully tries to say something over the noise of the speakers.

She had Tully too. A better best friend no girl has ever had.

“Have you finished yours yet?” The Pantoran holds up her glass, shaking the lone ice cubes around for show. Nuna holds hers up to show hers in the same state of emptiness.

“Ready for another?”

“You have to ask? Pony up girl. It’s your turn.”

There was something nice about the anonymity of her radio persona. As she moves through the crowd she doesn’t need to worry about being recognized or stopped by a fan looking for a picture. The one disappointment was that she still had to wait at the bar like everyone else.

She taps on the bar once to get the tender’s attention. The Twi’lek woman gives her a nod and the finger gesture for ‘one moment’ before quickly changing it to ‘two moments.’ Nuna blows a breath from the corner of her mouth. Ok, maybe a little notoriety wouldn’t be so bad once in a while. She’s waiting patiently, hip pressed against the bar, booted foot tapping along to the beat when someone taps her on the shoulder.

“Nuna?” She cringes at the voice, doing her best to press a convincing smile into place as she turns. “Hey, I thought that was you.” She flinches when a long thin finger flicks at one of the curls she’d managed to cultivate in her short hair. It bounces merrily as she looks into the face of the last man she’d hoped to see.

She only has one to go off of but, as far as exes went, Nuna was fairly certain she had one of the worst. All of the things she’d once found incredibly handsome about Alistar S’uun were now… what did Tully refer to him as?… ah yes, smarmy.

She’d been lonely and wholly too innocent to get involved with him when she’d first arrived in the Triple-Zero, but that hadn’t stopped her from losing her heart - and other things - to the arrogant son of a bantha. He’d been all slicked back hair and clothes that screamed money. He’d taken her to nice places, introduced her to important people. She’d thought it was love until she’d walked in on him and his assistant one day when she’d stopped by to bring him lunch.

To say it ended badly was an understatement, but she’d been lucky. She hadn’t seen him in nearly a standard year. Lucky until tonight.

“Alistar,” she greets, tucking her hair back behind her ears, as if it would stop him from touching it if he wanted to. Alistar did what he wanted when he wanted, and you either dealt with it or got out of the way.

“You look great. Lost a few of those troublesome pounds?”

A wave of annoyance washes over her as she glances back over her shoulder and toward the bartender. She just needed her karking drinks so she could make her escape. The Twi’lek is still occupied further down the bar.

“How have you been?” she asks, ignoring his questions and the undertones it entailed.

“Oh you know, doing a bit of this and that. Father is letting me take some of reins on the new acquisitions-“

“That’s lovely, Alistar. I’m very happy for you,” she lies through her teeth. His father was a shipping magnate and nepotism had been good to Alistar.

Nuna glances toward where she’d left Tully and sees a flash of red and white talking to her. Her heart stutters only to realize that it’s not the now somewhat familiar armor Hound wore. The trooper is somewhat smaller, less broad through the middle. The tell-tale snarl is missing from his helmet.

“I hear that little radio show of yours is still doing well.”

Here it comes, she thinks. This was always how it started. Alistar would make some little undermining comment and she’d get upset. Inevitably she’d be crying and he’d tell her she needed to get a sense of humor. Nuna could see it all unfolding before her eyes, but this time she wasn’t going to fall for it.

“I always knew you had a face for radio-” he smiles widely holding his hands up, “Oops! you know what I meant, right Nunz?”

“Yeah, Al, I got you loud and clear.” Her smile is forced and she grits her teeth with such force she’s surprised one doesn’t crack. “So it’s been lovely catching up but I’m going to go find Tull-“ His hand catches her upper arm as she turns to leave. She regrets wearing the sleeveless top Tully had picked out. She doesn’t like the feel of his skin against her own.

“Still friends with the Pant? Maker, you really are desperate aren’t you? Stay and talk for a while. I’m better company.” She shakes off his grip, his smile now beginning to look just as fake as the one she’d been wearing.

She promised herself wasn’t going to take the bait, really she wasn’t, she was better than that… but he’d brought Tully into it.

“She cares about me more than you ever did.” The smile is gone now and Aliatar’s pale brows arch up in surprise at the venom in her voice.

“So are you laying like a cold fish for her to fuck you too? Low standards-“

She turns to move again, puts one foot in front of the other, before he yanks her back. The heel of her boot slips and her stumble only makes his grip tighten. Her arm twists in a way that sends pain shooting like wildfire from her shoulder to the tips of her fingers.

“Don’t you dare walk-“

Nuna had never hurt so much as a fly in her life, but the blinding rage that rises up from her gut does something to her. Before she can even comprehend what she’s doing her balled up fist is connecting solidly with Alistar’s face. He doubles over while Nuna whines, snapping her hand back to her chest before beginning to shake it roughly. The pain she’d felt in her arm was nothing to what her knuckles were feeling now.

“Kriff, Kriff, Kriff,” she grits out, flexing her fingers.

“Why you dumb little nerf cow-“ She glances up to see Alistar take a step toward her. Something akin to fear prickles at the back of her senses. She’d seen that look before in his eyes. It scared her now like it had back then.

“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.” Red and white armor steps into Nunas view. “What seems to be the problem here?” Hound's voice is easy going as his head swings from Nuna to Alistar, who is rubbing his jaw, his other finger jabbing accusingly in Nuna’s direction.

“This little bitch-“

“Alright buddy” Hound holds a hand up calmingly “I’m going to stop you right there. Let me clarify-“ he turns to Nuna fully. Her heart stutters as he pulls the hand she’s cradling close to her chest up for inspection. “What’s going on here, sweetheart?” he asks quietly.

“I was just trying to leave and he grabbed me. It hurt,” she tries to tamp down the tremble in her voice, “I just wanted him to let go.”

Hound gives her an unreadable look. His thumbs stroke gently over her knuckles. Something warm springs to life in her belly that takes the edge off her discomfort.

“Hey, you! Clone,” Alistar’s voice rises up, “I demand this woman be arrested. I’ve been assaulted. You’re in the Guard. Do your job.”

There’s a tic in Hound’s jaw, really the only thing that gives the slightest hint of his annoyance as he turns back to the other man. A small crowd is gathering around them, mostly clones with a few civilians scattered in.

“Ok friend, first it’s Sargeant. Second,” he glances around and Nuna sees familiar colors of clone armor; blues, yellows, and reds surrounding them, “From my vantage point it looked like you were hurting the lady.” The clones around them nod in agreement.

“Oh this is just fracking great!” Alistar laughs, throwing his head back and taking a deep breath before glaring between Hound and Nuna. “You’re fucking her aren’t you?” he spits at Hound before rounding on Nuna, “You’re fucking government property now? That’s low even for you.”

Nuna feels tears welling up. She didn’t want to do anything now but go home and get away from the looks she just knew were coming her way. She glances down at her feet. When she looks up Hound is grabbing Alistar by the shoulders. His movements are quick, efficient, and practiced.

Hound tips Alistar forward just enough to bring an armored knee up into the other man’s unprotected gut. Alistar doubles over with a strangled wheeze, gripping at the bar for support before sinking to his knees. Hound turns his soft eyes to her.

“You’ve never punched someone.” It’s not a question. He takes her hand again, thumb stroking over her tender knuckles. “Wiggle your thumb,” he encourages, offering her a bright smile when she does.

“Ok. Good. It’s not broken,” he announces to himself, “Never wrap your fingers around your thumb. Next time you might not be so lucky.”

Nuna nods mutely.

“So what you want to do is-“ he proceeds to shape her hand into a fist. His big gloved hands completely envelop her smaller one as he tucks her thumb against the outside of her balled fingers. He presses it firmly as if to make the point that this was where it was supposed to be.

From the way he’s acting, she’s more inclined to believe she’s part of one of the ‘girl power’ self defense classes at the community center around the corner from her apartment as opposed to a clone bar. Hound is pleasant- no, he’s nearly perky.

“See how much nicer that looks? Certainly safer for your hand.” Nuna hears a few clones around them hum in agreement. Surreal. “Now, it wasn’t a bad first swing, but you didn’t follow through.”

“Kriffing… seven hells,” Alistar wheezes behind them. Hound makes a sound in his throat to catch her attention from the other man struggling to stand up.

“What you need to do next time is follow through. The target isn’t his jaw. It’s this magic little spot behind his jaw. Do you understand?”

Nuna’s eyes are drawn to Alistar who is rising to full height, murder written in his eyes.

“Hound-“ she tries to warn him but he merrily waves her off.

“Let me show you, ok?” The big man turns without missing a beat and his fist makes its best attempt at going through Alistar’s jaw. Her ex crumples into a heap, platinum hair disheveled, onto the sticky bar floor.

“Kriffing glass jawed pretty boy,” Hound mumbles as he turns back to her just as jovial and happy as he’d been devouring the nerf skewers and talking about Grizzer at the fete.

She hears a small cheer of “Oya!” go through the gathered ranks as a few clones grab the unconscious man by the shoulder and the rest begin to disperse back to their various areas.

“See? Just like that.”

Nuna swallows hard, bites back a nervous smile and finds her voice. “Just like that?”

“Yup.” Hound rocks back on his heels. “So do you wanna come have a drink with me- us?”

He sounds so hopeful, like pulling the whole Jedi Knight in shining armor bit hadn’t won him at least a little favor. She nods and he gestures for her to move ahead of him, leaving the other troopers to see her unconscious ex out the door.

Hound takes up a position behind her, his hand hovering over her hip to guide her toward the table his brothers stood around. Tully is already there with a serious look on her face.

“Are you ok?” She takes Nuna by the shoulders, looks her over.

“I’m good. I promise.”

“Maker I hate that no good piece of bantha spit.” One of the Guard behind her chokes out a laugh. Tully’s eyes fly to Hound, narrowed and assessing. “So this is the guy?”

“I’m the guy? What guy?” He looks at Nuna questioningly. Something mischievous sparkles in his gentle brown eyes.

Nuna feels her cheeks heat up as she bites out her friend's name. Tully ignores her.

“You bought her lunch at the Festival of Life?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And you called into the show to ask her on a date?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Tully looks to Nuna and then back to Hound. “What’s up with the ma’am?”

Hound rubs at the back of his neck. His brothers snicker in the background. “Courtesy, ma’am?”

“Call me Tully,” she orders shortly, finally relaxing. Hound breathes out a sigh of relief.

“Vod? You gonna introduce us to your little friend?”