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dragongirl642 · 3 years ago

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If you are taking requests may I request some Heisenberg with a mute SO (maybe from an injury? Or trauma?) who, initially when they first met he thought they were too afraid of him to speak to him but eventually realised that no, they just CANT speak. Maybe they communicate through sign language instead?

Hi there 😎 To confirm, asks are open for head canons and mashups.

Thank you for the ask, I am thriving of this Heisenberg fix 😘

Discalimer: I am not mute and have never written a mute character before, I apologise for any inconsistencies or stereotypes that arise.

Here are some sfw headcanons for Heisenberg with a mute S/o (including their first meeting).

How he reacts to a first meeting depends on the situation.

If he meets you while doing his job as a Lord, e.g., kidnapping, after the lycan attack, or catching you somewhere you shouldn't be:

Heisenberg isn't surprised when you don't say anything upon meeting him. He knows the effect an unknown man wielding a giant hammer and levitating metal has on an unsuspecting person and can't help but grin at your shocked gasp and wide eyes.

However, he does want a reaction. You know how he just casually stands there and waits for a reaction from Ethan? That.

So he starts to get annoyed when you don't say anything.

No pleas for freedom? Sarcastic comebacks? Witty banter? This man thrives off of whatever communication he can get from anyone who isn't part of his 'family', so he gets angsty.

He will amp up the dramatics for a reaction - think flinging metal past you or holding shards to your neck with his abilities, "Well, are you not going to say anything?" "Cat got your tongue?"

But when you gesture frantically to your throat and mouth and sign at him, he freezes.

At the moment, using his voice is one of the only ways he can actually rebel against his 'family', so he immediately feels pity for you.

Depending on his mood, and whether any of the other Lords or Miranda has a spy nearby, he may shoo you away/point to an exit. But most likely he will either kidnap you to his factory, telling himself that he'll let you go later, or take you to the others anyway.

If he meets you before the incident, while taking one of his coveted jaunts to pub or walk through woods:

Just like in the other situation, he craves communication and reactions.

He is momentarily shocked when you reveal that you can't verbally communicate with him, but then tries to immediately show-off the little Romanian sign language he knows. (During his initial kidnapping and experimentation by Mother Miranda, he met and learned a few phrases from one of the other children and a maid). However, he quickly realises that it's not enough to have a full conversation; also, you might/probably sign in a different language/non-compatible variant (BSL, Auslan, ASL, SSl, etc...).

If you respond with enthusiasm to his attempts, he will be encouraged to seek out other means of holding a conversation, writing on a napkin, playing yes-or-no, and charades.

Will make a lot of jokes and innuendos about a common language that doesn't require talking. (Wink wink 😉😱 if you know what I mean)

He's surprised by how much fun he has talking to you and playing yes-no/charades. He doesn't want to leave but he will.

Will most likely hint that you should leave the area, believing you'll be safer away form the village. (Anyone would be).

Whilst in a relationship

As mentioned before, Heisenberg is very insecure and requires reassurance from his s/o that they want to stay with him. Establishing communication with his s/o is of paramount importance.

All the paper he owns always ends up oil-stained, ripped, or charred, but he somehow immediately finds a clean notepad and gifts it to you with a gilded quill. He may forget to provide ink at first, but he soon realises.

Alao, if you're used to modern conveniences, you may have to deal with a quill for awhile - Pens, what pens, all of his are chewed to oblivion and empty, same for his pencils, chewed and shattered. He searches for three hours across the whole factory before he realises he doesn't have a single working pen left and will go out to find more (or buy some of the duke).

He learns the sign language you use. Even though he's a fast learner, It's a slow process since the only material he has to learn with is a few scraps of paper from an outdated sign book, in the wrong language, and you.

When signing, his accent is a bit lazy (especially if he's working) and, if you teach him, he uses a lot of slang, for speed. Basically the signed equivalent of a stereotypical movie cowboy drawl.

Although he's adverse to physical affection anyway, especially at the start of the relationship, he gradually gets more needy with hand-holding and kisses.

Everytime you squeeze his hand in response to a question/statement, he raises your hand and kisses the palm. It makes conversations ten times as long but he won't stop no matter what.

Kisses your neck...a lot!

Definitely knows morse code. Builds a receiver set so you can message him anywhere in the factory. If you know it too, he's happy to respond to you tapping messages, and sometimes making cheeky jokes and innuendos from around a corner where you cant see him. If you don't, he'll teach you.

Also, morse code arguments...that almost always end in laughter if one of you taps out "don't yell at me".

Will try and build an arm-mounted typewriter for you...It doesn't go well.

One day when he's tinkering around making more headgear for a hauler he has an idea and excitedly rushes to find you. Just like how the headgear simulates brain activity, he offers to try and build a neural implant that will transmit your thoughts to a speaker.

He will mope around/sulk if you reject him, and start building it in secret. If you give in to his puppy eyes and agree he will throw himself into building it, but once he realises how intrusive/dangerous it will be for you, he stops and congratulates himself on keeping you safe (even though it was his idea in the first place).

If you're mute due to an injury, he will sometimes entertain the thought of building mechanical vocal chords.

If you're a selective mute, due to trauma, the first time he hears you speak (if you do), he starts crying. Definitely recorded you for playback later.

I think he is the Lord most likely to use the fact that you're mute against you in an argument. Either as an insult, or to gain the upper hand by tearing away whatever you're using for communication to silence you, e.g., taking away your paper, pinning your hands to the wall so you cant sign, etc...

He always regrets it though, and will try to apologise by being extra accommodating and making you gifts.

If he is in a tantrum, after coming back from a 'family' meeting, and there is metal flying everywhere, It will be even harder to get his attention than normal.

The first time this happened, he didn't realise you were there until a shard of metal sliced open your arm and you fell into some boxes stacked in the corner. Thr clatter, your tears, and the pained sound you made, brought him back to the moment and sent him straight into panic mode, he fussed over you for five hours with tears in his eyes; patching your arm, worrying over blood loss, holding your hand and refusing to let go.

He made a loud jangly bracelet or belt covered in bells and asked you to wear them. It took a while of steady convincing for him to realise this is going overboard.

However, despite your refusal, he knows the factory is a dangerous place and is terrified that you may one day be in danger and he wouldn't realise. (Even more so that he will be the one to hurt you).

He finds an airhorn, and also makes a panic button that will set off the factory's alarms, for you. Should you ever find yourself in danger, e.g., cornered by a lycan or soldat, there's an intruder, or you need to snap him out of an episode, you can just blow the horn/start the alarms and he'll come running.

He will sulk until you accept the panic button and try and hide it in your clothes, either with his powers or through 'surprise hugs' (which is instantly suspicious, because he's not the one to initiate hugs most of the time).

(I feel like he would make a panic button for a non-mute s/o too. Losing you is this man's biggest fear).

Whew...all done. 😅 Thank you again for the ask, it was eye-opening researching different types of sign language.

#re8 #re8 village #re8 headcanons #re headcanons #resident evil 8 #resident evil heisenberg #karl heisenberg x mute reader #re8 karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x you

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moonlightserenadeeznutz · 3 years ago

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Remus Lupin shitposting (pride day 4)

Remus Lupin cutting his hair short throughout his childhood until he gets really good at it, and just cuts his friends’ hair for them when they need it. Remus Lupin wearing three sports bras and two sweaters on top of each other to get that ✨flat chest✨ look. Remus Lupin finally getting a binder and crying. Remus Lupin becoming more comfortable in his masculinity and wearing black nail polish and dangly earrings. Remus Lupin pondering on whether he wants to wear a skirt or not after seeing Sirius absolutely rock them, but not feeling confident enough, and not wanting them to cause him any dysphoria. Remus Lupin being encouraged by James who puts on a skirt just for him, saying “I’m a literal jock, a ripped Quidditch player, if I say skirts can be masculine they fucking can be”. Remus Lupin fucking ROCKING a skirt. Remus Lupin being cheered on by his friends as he attempts to walk up the stairs to the girl’s dormitory to see if the stairs change for him. Remus Lupin grinning like a damn idiot bc the stairs absolutely changed, and now he’s sprawled out on the floor with his friends on top of him, as elated as he is. Remus Lupin getting top surgery and going shirtless in public for the first time. Remus Lupin having a mullet. Remus Lupin literally having a different hairstyle every year. Remus Lupin with tattoos. Remus Lupin wearing dinosaur sweaters and befriending frogs. Remus Lupin having scars he’s actually proud of. Remus Lupin writing poetry. Remus Lupin wearing waistcoats and scarves and checkered trousers. Remus Lupin wearing Sirius’s leather jacket and sharing his cigarettes. Remus Lupin singing in the shower. Remus Lupin swearing in Welsh and counting sheep as he falls asleep with an un dau tri pedwar pump. Remus Lupin drinking ten cups of coffee a day. Remus Lupin smiling when Sirius gets his name tattooed in Roman letters on his wrist. Remus Lupin going quiet when he’s sad and doesn’t talk to anyone for a week. Remus Lupin shouting at Sirius for nearly getting expelled after beating up a guy who called Remus a slur. Remus Lupin being a hypocrite and constantly struggles not to fight people himself when he’s angry. Remus Lupin being held back by James after The Prank, James familiar enough with his temper to know that a fistfight is imminent. Remus Lupin trying to be vegetarian throughout the entire month before transforming, to make up for accidentally eating a bird once when he was in his wolf form, and getting super sick over it. Remus Lupin never crying after his mum dies. Remus Lupin wearing cargo shorts. Remus Lupin wearing friendship bracelets all up his arms. Remus Lupin knowing how to thread daisy chains and shyly giving one to Sirius in first year, who is absolutely delighted by it. Remus Lupin getting stoned with his friends as they listen to Atom Heart Mother by Pink Floyd. Remus Lupin listening to David Bowie on vinyl. Remus Lupin having a huge record collection, even bigger than Sirius’s. Remus Lupin watching Doctor Who as a child and being scared of the Daleks. Remus Lupin growing up with posters of Quidditch players and musicians, all male, and not knowing whether he wants to be them or wants to date them. Remus Lupin being really good at astronomy. Remus Lupin being shit at potions, and yet is a master at brewing herbal remedies for his friends which his mother taught him as a child. Remus Lupin giving Sirius muggle books to read. Remus Lupin saying dw’in caru ti to Sirius knowing full well that Sirius has no idea what he’s talking about. Remus Lupin letting Sirius sleep in his bed. Remus Lupin being terrible at cooking but fantastic at baking. Remus Lupin breaking the rules because he’s not a goody two shoes. Remus Lupin with a lip piercing. Remus Lupin wishing on ladybirds. Remus Lupin breaking his no crying streak of ten years two days after Sirius dies and the realisation of it all hitting him full force. Remus Lupin going into the war knowing full well he’s probably not going to come out alive. Remus Lupin singing Welsh lullabies to Teddy. Remus Lupin hanging concert photos on the wall of his flat. Remus Lupin wearing beanies.

Remus Lupin.

#this was longer than I intended and I can’t add a cut or it’ll break up the paragraph so #don’t hate me I’m sorry #anyway #remus lupin #trans remus lupin #marauders era #wolfstar

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januaryisnotanartist · 3 years ago

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KanSang Week Day 03: Sharing Clothing

Pairing: Kan Jian/Liu Sang (established)

Genre: Uhhhh, that’s a good question Trope: (pre-) their boss has booked a table at a fancy restaurant for the team Summary: (Side A) Kan Jian has some self doubt, Liu Sang helps him feel fancy (Side B) The weather is hot, Liu Sang just looks like that lbh Word Count: 2,180 ish

Kan Jian frowned at his appearance in the mirror, brows wrinkling together as he looked himself over. He looked fine. He was clean and neat, and he looked like he always did. Admittedly this was his nicest vest, he fancy vest, worn only for formal occasions but...

He lifted his hands tentatively to cover his bare arms.

It was only a dinner with friends and co-workers but...

Mr Erbai had booked tables at a real fancy restaurant. Like, Xin Yue Restaurant fancy. While he'd worked for Mr Rishan at the Xin Yue, he'd been encouraged to wear sleeves more often than not.

Normally Kan Jian wouldn't even think about whether or not his bare arms were against some unspoken dress code, but Liu Sang had done a thing with his hair and shiny hair pins and...

Kan Jian couldn't embarrass him.

He remembered the first time he'd seen Liu Sang, in his grey suit, hair so vibrant in the sun. He'd looked so professional Kan Jian hadn't even doubted this was the master expert he'd been instructed to pick up.

Liu Sang always looked so nice, and Kan Jian, well Kan Jian was good looking too, but he never looked fancy like Liu Sang.

Mind made up, Kan Jian returned to their bedroom to search through his side of the closet.

Liu Sang wasn't worried when he hung up on Pangzi, because Kan Jian had been fine when Liu Sang had left him in the bathroom to finish putting product in his hair. Liu Sang was merely... concerned by the sudden and unexpected sound of tearing fabric from the bedroom.

When he opened the door and found Kan Jian frozen with a mortified look on his face and a white, long-sleeved button-up shirt with a tear at one of the shoulder seams in place of the fancy black vest and shirt he'd been wearing earlier, well, that's when he began to worry.

“Kan Jian?” Liu Sang crossed the room to Kan Jian's side, and reached out to help when Kan Jian's arm got stuck in the shirt as he tried to yank it off too quickly. “Hey, what's going on?”

Kan Jian looked at the floor, bunching up the torn shirt in his hands. Liu Sang didn't let himself be distracted by the lovely way the action made Kan Jian's muscles move.

Kan Jian shrugged and shook his head. Liu Sang waited.

“I just...” Kan Jian said after what felt like a long silence, “it's a fancy restaurant, what if... I'm not fancy enough.”

“Of course you're fancy enough, you looked very handsome in your outfit.” Liu Sang reached out and put his hands over Kan Jian's, subtly stroking his fingers to get Kan Jian to loosen his grip on the shirt which had now become quite condensed. “Hey,” Liu Sang tilted so his head was closer to Kan Jian's downcast line of sight. “What brought this on?”

Kan Jian shook his head and sniffled, “I don't know, I just... I suddenly started thinking about how you always looks so fancy and how I...” he shrugged.

Liu Sang eased the shirt from Kan Jian's grip, “you looked really good, but it's okay if you want to try something different too. Just tell me, I'll help. We still have plenty of time if you want to try another look for tonight.”

Kan Jian shrugged again, running his now empty hands up his bare arms.

“That was the only long sleeved shirt I have that isn't... wasn't wrecked somehow.” He sighed, and sniffled again, annoyed at himself how close to crying he was over something so... so dumb.

“Do you want to try one of my shirts?” Liu Sang asked, already stepping towards his portion of closet, the torn shirt was flung onto the dresser and promptly forgotten. Kan Jian almost said 'no' as Liu Sang flicked through his shirts, but he kind of did still want to try looking fancy like Liu Sang.

Barely a minute later Liu Sang was returning to Kan Jian with three shirts. All were shirts he'd seen Liu Sang wear before, Kan Jian knew these ones sat baggier on his boyfriend's slimmer frame. Liu Sang held the three up beside Kan Jian and hummed quietly as he seemed to consider something, then suddenly he threw two of them down on the bed and handed the third to Kan Jian with a “here, try this one.”

Kan Jian obliged, pulling the soft and surprisingly stretchy shirt over his head, not even worrying about his hair which he'd spent so much time on earlier.

“Hrmg,” Liu Sang made a sound in his throat as Kan Jian smoothed the borrowed shirt over his body. Kan Jian smiled, he didn't know what he'd done to provoke it, but that was the noise Liu Sang made when Kan Jian had done something to earn enthusiastic kisses.

Liu Sang's eyes were trained on Kan Jian's arms where the material sat snugly against his skin. Kan Jian realised Liu Sang must have been concerned about the fit, so he moved his arms around carefully, he didn't want to pop the seams of this shirt like he had the last. The seams held, and Liu Sang made another 'enthusiastic kisses to follow' noise, so Kan Jian figured he must have guessed right about Liu Sang wanting to check the fit.

“Does it look okay?” Kan Jian asked, and Liu Sang replied with a very breathless “oh yes.”

Kan Jian looked down at the shirt which clung to his torso, “it doesn't look too plain does it?”

Liu Sang cleared his throat suddenly, startling Kan Jian. Kan Jian looked up to see Liu Sang shaking his head.

Kan Jian felt like he'd missed something.

Liu Sang started walking towards the door, calling back “grab the vest you were wearing earlier, and one of your silver bracelets and meet me in the bathroom.”

A little confused, Kan Jian complied. It took a few minutes, but he settled on a bracelet that kind of matched the abnormally shaped zipper tabs on his vest.

By the time Kan Jian arrived in the bathroom, Liu Sang had removed all the clips and pins from the right side of his hair, letting it hang down. The pins had left gentle waves in Liu Sang's hair and Kan Jian wanted to reach out and play with it, so he stepped up behind Liu Sang and-

Kan Jian caught sight of himself in the mirror, Liu Sang's shirt hugging him like it was deliberately and lovingly painted on.

'Oh,' Kan Jian thought, 'that's why I'm getting enthusiastic kisses later.'

Kan Jian certainly wouldn't call the look 'fancy', but he did look undeniably hot in his boyfriend's shirt.

Liu Sang turned to him, several hair pins in hand and said, “vest on please.” Kan Jian didn't know what Liu Sang planned to do with the hair pins, Kan Jian's hair was way to short, but he complied and pulled on his vest.

Then he held up the bracelet he'd picked out and Liu Sang nodded in approval and tapped Kan Jian's left wrist. While Kan Jian slipped the bracelet on, over the sleeve because otherwise what was the point, Liu Sang began sliding his hair pins onto the right hand side of the collar on Kan Jian's vest.

When Liu Sang was finished he stepped around Kan Jian to stand behind him, out of the way of his reflection. “Is it okay?” he asked, hand's smoothing over the back of Kan Jian's vest.

Kan Jian didn't look much different from before, but between the deep colour of his borrowed shirt and the extra shiny of the bracelet, somehow he felt like he looked a lot different. His fingers reached up to trail over the pattern Liu Sang had made on his collar.

It was pretty, and familiar and...

Kan Jian looked at Liu Sang's reflection and grinned.

It was the same pattern as the one in Liu Sang's hair.

“We match,” Kan Jian said and turned to face his boyfriend.

Liu Sang nodded, “if you're not fancy now, then I'm not fancy either, and if I'm fancy enough, then you must be fancy enough too.”

It was terrible logic and yet...

Kan Jian felt giddy like he'd swallowed the sun, “I look so fancy right now!” He lean forward to kiss Liu Sang, who leaned forward to meet him -

> PING <

The phone Liu Sang had placed by the sink startled them.

“Ah, the 'ten minutes to get in the car or we'll probably be late' alarm,” Liu Sang said.

Kan Jian frowned, “you said we have plenty of time though, before?”

“Yes, and we do,” Liu Sang nodded, “we have as much time as you need to feel like you're ready to go.”

“I'm ready,” Kan Jian told him, giddiness bubbling up again, “just look how fancy I am.” He giggled, wrapping his arms around Liu Sang, who curled his arms around Kan Jian's shoulders and joined his mirth.

Until the 'five minutes to get in the car or we'll probably be late' alarm went of.

They sobered instantly and Kan Jian fixed his hair as quickly as he could before the duo bolted.

Once they arrived, Kan Jian's nagging concern that he hadn't looked fancy enough in his original outfit was proven well unfounded. Kan Jian's vest and pants were clean and neat and had absolutely no blood stains in the seams.

Unlike Hei Xiazi's leather jacket.

On the other hand, Kan Jian earned several double takes and plenty of compliments and Liu Sang kept running his hands down Kan Jian's arms throughout the night, so the fancy outfit was good too.

Side B

The most recent job had been taxing on everyone, though it had been a good result and well worth the effort put in, when they'd returned to Hangzhou, everyone had simply stayed at the Wushanju because they'd returned so late at night.

A few days on and not everyone had migrated back to their own houses and apartments. Part of that was because they were still sorting through the pictures and recordings they'd taken at the site, and part of it was because it was just too hot for anyone to muster up the energy to leave.

Kan Jian didn't think he'd be much help with that, so he helped make sure everyone was staying hydrated. He brought a tray of icy cold drinks to the room everyone had been working in, but found only Wu Xie.

“Laoban? Where's Liu Sang?”

Wu Xie looked up, startled, then looked around, confusion evident on his face as he found the room empty.

“Ah, uhm...” Wu Xie's attempt to puzzle out the mystery was interrupted by some faint knocks. “Oh! Liu Sang says he's on the terrace in the next courtyard over.” There was another round of knocking, “oooh, apparently the shade over there is much nicer.”

Wu Xie spotted the drinks and took one with a quick thanks before turning back to his work. Kan Jian took one to bring to Liu Sang and went to find him.

He hadn't seen his boyfriend all day, it was a travesty in need of correction.

Kan Jian stepped into the next courtyard and looked around. He froze as his eyes caught on the lone figure leaning against one of the walls, nestled deep in the shade of the verandahs.

Liu Sang was barefoot, his hair wrestled into a messy bun atop his head from which several strands were escaping only to curl in the humidity. His legs were half bare, his soft pants drawn up to expose his skin all the way past the knee. One of his legs was propped up to support one of his arms, the one with the fan he was lazily wafting air over himself with.

The biggest crime though, was his shirt. Or more correctly, Kan Jian's shirt. The neck and arm holes, large enough to fit Kan Jian's muscles and still leave room to move comfortably. On Kan Jian they fit well, on Liu Sang...

Even from halfway across the courtyard, at this angle, Kan Jian could see not only the tantalising dip between Liu Sang's collar bones, but a salacious sliver of Liu Sang's chest.

'Side boob,' Pangzi had called it once.

Liu Sang whined lightly and opened his eyes a sliver, fixing Kan Jian with a look that made Kan Jian think he should bundle Liu Sang away and back to their room before anyone else stumbled across him looking like the he belonged in the kind of magazines good boys weren't supposed to read.

Liu Sang raised one hand toward Kan Jian and made a grabby motion before he whined again, “iiiiiice.”

Kan Jian startled, the ice in the drink he was carrying clinked together and he hurried over to his boyfriend to deliver the drink, suddenly very parched himself.

#dmbj #kansang #kansang week #liu sang #kan jian #lost tomb reboot #tltr #reunion: the sound of the providence #long post #i was torn about how to do this one #like i feel like they casually share clothes in their apartment #because these boys are closer in body shape and size than my brain tries to insist #I have to stop adding angsty bits to my domestic fluff (:

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rosy-cheekx · 4 years ago

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I Want To Be A Real Fake

@kaiserkorresponds said: Black and White + "I want to be a real fake" + formal clothing <3

Prompted fic that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since I received it! Hope you like it, Kaiser!

Jon would not consider himself fashionable. He has a distinct sense of style, yes, but that style lately has been Tired-Academic-Works-in-a-Cold-Office,-Steals-Sweaters-When-Necessary-core. Not exactly suitable for the business casual dress code The Magnus Institute “requires” (no one seemed to pay attention to the Archive staff’s choices of attire), but certainly not suitable for the small rectangle of cardstock Elias Bouchard hands him, on a quiet spring morning in the Archive.

“What’s…what’s this?” Jon asked, staring at the neat, printed text as if it was Greek. (If it were Greek, at least, he could decipher parts of it. He was an English Lit student, after all, and he had really enjoyed etymology.) The card was a stiff black and white, with the black owl logo, the symbol of the Magnus Institute, printed in the top middle. Glancing down at it, he saw a date, and the words: “black-tie.” Shit.

“My apologies, I forgot how tired your position tends to leave you.” Elias’s voice was prim and polite, but Jon still winced inwardly. “As a head of a department, you are now strongly encouraged to attend the fundraiser I host in April each year. Our donors are fascinated by our departments, and especially the Archives. Gertrude’s disappearance has raised questions as to her successor, and I trust you can assuage the concerns of our donors at your accomplishments in the position.” Jon chose to believe that Elias’s keen eye didn’t sweep the mountains of paperwork that surrounded his desk as he surveyed the small, poorly lit office. “I’m certain you’ll be able to find appropriate attire for the occasion.”

He turned on a heel, halfway to the door before seemingly considering something. “Ah, and Jon, one more thing. Gertrude always requested she bring an assistant. Would you like to do the same? I am happy to accommodate one more for the catering count.”

Jon snapped his mouth shut, utterly dumbfounded by the responsibility just thrust upon him, and nodded mutely, before clearing his throat. “Ah-um, yes, I would appreciate that. Does it matter which one?”

“Someone who can make a pleasant impression, please.” Elias raised an eyebrow, nodded almost imperceptibly, like he had made a decision, and rapped his knuckles on the doorframe on the way out. “I trust your judgement.”

Jon counted to thirty, to be certain Elias wasn’t coming back, and slouched into his office chair, scanning the save-the-date again, without the immense pressure of Elias’s eyes on him.

“The Magnus Institute Fundraiser Gala,” it read below the embossed owl, within a thin black border. “23 April, 7-10 pm. Black tie. Catered.” Jon traced the owl with the pad of his finger, flipping the card over to see, in Elias’s thin cursive: Make a good impression, Jon.

God, this is going to suck.

“Sasha, come on.” Jon wasn’t one to beg, but desperate times and all that. He had cornered her in the breakroom, while Martin was on a research trip and Tim was getting takeaway from the chippie down the street. “It’s only three weeks away, and you’re the one I trust the most. Please.”

“Jon,” Sasha sighed, smoothing her skirt patiently. “I would if I could, I swear to you. But my sister’s wedding has been planned for months, I’ve already requested time off, and I can’t undo all that for a work party.”

“Fundraiser,” Jon corrected instinctively, even as he signed in resignation. “Fine. I just really didn’t want to go alone.”

Sasha scoffed, shaking her head to herself as she opened the fridge and pulled out her bagged lunch. “You have two other assistants you know. What about Tim? Or Martin?”

Jon wrinkled his nose at the thought of bringing nervous, rambling, doe-eyed Martin to the gala. “God no. Martin would be too much; I need someone who can handle themselves and hold a decent conversation. I need someone who can attend a black-tie gala and look more at-home than me.” A withering look from Sasha.

“So why not Tim, then? He can do all those things.”

“Do all what things?” Jon jumped and spun around to see Tim, carrying a grease-spotted bag in one hand and a paper soda cup in the other. He surveyed Tim in a moment: the button-up shirt, red and printed with tiny black balloons, sleeves rolled to the elbows. Sunglasses pushed to the top of his head, dark black hair artfully mussed. High cheekbones dotted with freckles, and what Jon swore could be the faintest bit of eyeliner.

“Tim, would you like to go to a fashionable, catered work party with me?”

“Boss,” Tim lowered himself to a knee and held out his soda solemnly. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“Tim, that’s backwards. The kneeler isn’t the one who accepts,” Sasha chuckles helpfully.

“You’re just jealous of our love, Sash!”

Good Lord.

Jon was really hoping the food would be good. He was in Tim’s flat, in the toilet, checking himself in the mirror one final time. His hair was carefully braided, courtesy of Tim’s deft hands and coiled into a thick bun at the base of his skull, gold and emerald hairpin snugly in place. His suit was nice: a respectable white shirt, dotted with tiny lime-colored flowers he had to strain his eyes to see, under a dark green suit jacket and matching trousers. The suit itself was cut in a rather androgynous style, pulling tight at Jon’s waist in a way he rather liked, and contrasted beautifully, he thought, with the smooth brown of his skin. He flicked an invisible piece of lint from his thigh and, satisfied, stepped into the hall to tell Tim he was ready to go.

“Tim, I’m all-woah,” the exhale was accidental. Tim’s suit was certainly not subtle. He was wearing a deep blue turtleneck, hair perfectly coiffed. Over the turtleneck, the suit jacket was white, a spray of water-color flowers in all shades of blue and purple shifting with every movement. The navy blue heeled suede boots on his feet accentuated his already-tall frame “Tim, you look good,” Jon breathed.

“Ouch. No need to sound all surprised. I know I clean up well; I dirty pretty damn good too.” Tim chuckled and adjusted his sleeves. “You don’t look so bad yourself, Mr. ‘I don’t want anything too crazy.’”

Jon grinned shyly, rocking on his heels of his own, less intimidating dress shoes. “I like it, I think. It feels nice.” The excitement over how good he felt in the clothes had, all too briefly, suppressed the impending doom he was feeling about the evening’s events. “Are you ready for tonight?” he asked for what must have been the fiftieth time, spinning the solid black ring he wore around his finger.

“Yes, Jon. Talk about the reorganization process as a structural renovation, converting files to audio formatting for future accessibility, don’t talk about artefact storage even a little, don’t get caught up with anyone too pretty, I get it.” His voice was flat, bored by the repetition. “This is going to be fine.”

“What-what if it isn’t, though, Tim? What if they ask about Gertrude or how their money is being used, o-or how the restructuring is going? I can’t bloody well tell them I’m using a tape recorder that’s probably older than I am.”

“Jon,” Tim’s well-manicured hand was on his shoulder, nails the same blue of his turtleneck. “Take a deep breath. For Gertrude: be honest. It was a tragedy, and you hope she’s found, but until then you’re doing your best to act on her wishes as her replacement. And for the rest, be vague. Restructuring is going ‘as well as can be expected’ or ‘is running quite smoothly with the help of your three wonderful assistants.’” He winked. “And tell them you’re using a multimedia system, that’ll confuse those old boomers enough to move topics. And it is technically true. Laptops and a tape recorder are multiple medias. Anything else we can riff, you know? I can talk with the best of them.” He eyed Jon meaningfully. “This will be fine. It’s one night. And we’ll get chips after. Promise.”

Jon nodded and closed his eyes, breathing steadying. He was grateful Tim had been available. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

“So, how did you know what black tie meant?” Jon asked, eyeing Tim across the seat of the cab. They’re on their way now and Jon’s hands are steepled tightly, pressing his fingertips against each other until it hurts to do so. “I had to Google it last week when I went shopping, in case we had to wear literal black ties.” He needed to talk about anything, anything but this stupid fundraiser they drove steadily towards.

Tim grew silent for a moment, considering his words. “My brother was an extra in a movie once and started dating a stylist for one of the leads. He fibbed his way into getting us tickets for premieres, so I’ve made my way through a few high-fashion events.” He shrugged, fiddling with a thin silver bracelet along his wrist, were Jon knew the letter D was carved in delicate cursive. “I like it, too, you know? Dressing up for events. It makes me feel debonaire, like a spy.”

Jon shook his head in disagreement. “Makes me feel fake,” he mumbled, eyeing the lorry floor beneath them. “Like everyone knows I don’t belong. I hate having their eyes on me and knowing they’re better than me.”

Tim prodded Jon with his elbow gently, raising his eyebrows in a comforting manner. “That’s it though, isn’t it? We aren’t fake. We worked our way here. Hell, you’re the boss of an entire department, Jon. We’ve gotten to where we are in the Institute because we deserve to be here. And anyways, everyone at that party next week is gonna be fake. They’re pretending to care about our jobs, and we pretend to care about their money, and they pretend they’re even the ones who write the checks and not some snooty financial advisor in Wales.”

Jon shrugged, trying to keep himself from biting back that he wasn’t enough, didn’t earn this spot, that Sasha deserved it more than he did and was doing nothing to prove to Elias he was up to the monumental task of being the Head Archivist. He didn’t, though, and instead took a steadying breath, nodding to Tim’s comforting words.

“And anyways,” Tim continued, shrugging. “Even if we have to be fake for a night, it’ll be fun. We get to be a part of ‘the queen’s high society,’” he added in a high-pitched, overly fake RP accent, eliciting a chuckle from Jon. “And Rosie said the catering Elias orders is divine. Apparently we should keep an eye out for tiny samosas?”

As if on cue, the cab shuddered to a stop. Jon thanked the driver, paid, and followed Tim out.

The Institute looked different under the pretense of wealth and success. It was still the same building of course, but the floor was clear of the rain mats and the smooth marble floor paved the way to the library, the main sitting room of which had been cleared as a rather respectable grand hall to host a party. Tables lined the cordoned off books, hot plates and silver trays steaming slightly. Bottles of wine lined a bar, behind which a vested individual with slicked-back hair was pouring small glasses and taking orders. A quiet orchestra completed the scene, cello and piano in a delicate duet. Before tonight, Jon couldn’t have imagined this many people in the Institute alone, least of all the library. Not that it’s packed. There’s maybe thirty or so well-dressed individuals milling about, the din of conversation white noise in comparison to the floating of the music.

Tim’s hand is on his back, pressing kindly into his spine. Oh yes, he remembers dimly, and nods, allowing Tim to guide him into the library and hand him a glass of wine. They stand out a little, two beacons of color around what is a pretty drab spectrum of black and grey, save for a few spectacular dresses in the crowd. Jon finds he doesn’t mind it, except that it may lead to unwanted conversation. It’s not his looks he fears being judged on, but that he be found wanting when it came to his capabilities. He was always selectively self-conscious like that, some things utterly meaningless, others inexplicably important.

Jon isn’t a huge fan of wine, but he finds himself clinging to the glass as a lifeline as he and Tim meander through the crowds, largely ignored. The music is intoxicatingly simple; he finds himself caught up in the deep reverberations of the cello as they walk, feeling it deep in his chest. There were, in fact, samosas, as well as small cannoli, and he and Tim piled plates as high as they could without garnering stares.

There weren’t many people Jon recognized; he didn’t even see Elias as he scanned the crowd for faces. Wine in one hand, a plate in the other, he thought maybe the night wouldn’t be too bad.

Jon shivered, the sensation of being stared at prickling the back of his neck. He spun around, trying to appear casual, and spotted Elias at last. He was standing with a large man, broad and wearing a deep blue suit, scruffy beard a mix of tawny and white. Elias crooked his finger, smiling primly. As Jon made his way over to the pair-who he could’ve sworn he hadn’t seen previously, he was intercepted by a short bald man in a plum velour suit, leaning heavily on a cane.

“Ah, Archivist,” he smiled warmly, extending a hand to shake before seeing Jon’s hands were full, and nodding his head instead. “Congratulations on your promotion. Elias has told me he expects great things from you.”

Jon smiled politely, glancing over to see Elias and the other man gone again. Regretfully, he turned his attention back to the man. “It’s a shame about Gertrude, yes, but I’m hoping I can do her proud,” he said in a practiced tone. He glanced over his shoulder. Where was Tim? He was just with him.

“Of course, of course. I was hoping I could have a word?”

“W-with me?”

“Yes, you see, I was rather concerned when I heard Gertrude’s position had been left open. When Elias said you yourself where at the junction to take over, I wanted to meet you for myself. I worry about the Archivists in your institute, so many of you do such monumental work for so little recognition. Do you worry your work to be meaningless? Your name insignificant when it is all said and done?”

(It is this conversation he remembers, months later, when he demands to record Prentiss’ attack. He refuses to be another mystery, a name on a placard to be wondered about.)

“I-ah, yes? No?” What was the right answer here? Jon stammered out a half-assed reply about doing his best, midway through when he felt a hand firmly on his shoulder, where his neck and collarbone met. Glancing to his peripheral, he saw a golden ring, an eye, and was frustratingly grateful to hear the cool tones of Elias Bouchard over his shoulder.

“Now Simon,” he said, voice even, “you aren’t trying to scare my dear Archivist, are you?” He gave the shoulder a squeeze but remained put. “Jon, I believe you’ve heard of Simon Fairchild, a significant donor to our establishment.”

Jon nodded wordlessly, not really listening to the two bureaucrats delve off into some topic or other, craning his neck to look for Tim. The music had picked up, he registered dimly, a orchestral melody led by a violin, sharp and whimsical.

“Jon?” Another squeeze to his neck, and Jon tried not to wince. “Wouldn’t you agree,” Elias asked, voice patient at surface level. “That the best way to move forward is to restructure the Archive?”

Jon nodded, trying to recall the answer he had rehearsed. “Yes, ah—my team and I have worked quite hard at recording the statements a-and organizing them in a way that will last long-term.”

“Ah, what a delight,” Simon—Mr. Fairchild—said warmly. Jon was reminded of the voices adults would use when they spoke to him as a child, when his inane facts about space or etymology had moved from endearing to obnoxious.

The conversation lasted for what felt like days, Jon feeling rather like Mr. Fairchild’s cane: a statement piece, contributing nothing to the conversation but unable to find a smooth exit. Leading questions from Elias led to thankfully rehearsed answers before Simon found his own exit and walked away smoothly, eyes wide and taking the room in.

“I-I really should find Tim,” Jon muttered, glancing around the room anxiously.

“Nonsense. He’ll be back,” Elias said, releasing Jon’s shoulder and taking his elbow in turn, “I would like to introduce you to a few dear friends of mine. I believe Tim is keeping one occupied at present.” Jon sighed inwardly (and maybe outwardly as well) and allowed himself to be led around the room. His wine glass was empty, as was his plate and he found it snatched away by a member of catering. He had nothing to cling to, to keep his hands busy, and was struggling not to pull out his delicately-placed hair pin just so he could fiddle with something.

Jon was taken on a tour of old rich people of England. Names flew past him, conversation buzzed around him, and still Jon felt like nothing more than a well-dressed trophy to be ogled at. Did Gertrude do this every year, he wondered dimly. No wonder she disappeared. He fiddled with the ring on his finger, nodding and smiling at the appropriate times, speaking when needed, and feeling the swirl of the orchestra build up in pressure behind his eyes. The music was beautiful but hard to listen to. Something about it was ugly, hiding a dark secret behind the innocent melodies.

Eventually, the evening was so much of a blur that he couldn’t even begin to fathom how much time had passed. It may have been weeks, may have been merely twenty minutes. Jon glanced down for his watch before realizing he had taken it off at Tim’s flat and never strapped it back on. Pity. It only added to the dreamscape reality he seemed to be participating in.

At last, Elias led him towards the large burly man that was suddenly in view (hadn’t he always been? Jon wasn’t quite sure. The wine must have affected him more than he thought with the nerves) and Jon saw Tim, similarly trapped in conversation as he had been. He smiled apologetically as Jon and Elias approached and the larger man smiled warmly at the newcomers.

“Ah, Archivist. I hope you don’t mind I stole your companion away briefly. I was curious about the nitty-gritty of your Archive. Timothy here was very informative.” Tim winced at the use of his full name and a part of Jon smirked, relating to the sentiment of being called Jonathan or worse, John.

“I’m glad he can answer your questions.” Elias spoke before Jon could open his mouth. “I’m quite proud of the Archive staff. Jon chose well and I am sure the four of them are going to do great things together. Jon, you remember the Lukas family?”

Jon nodded, confused for a second before the man in front of him extended his hand. “Peter Lukas, at your service.” The hand was cold, and a feeling of dismay washed over Jon as he shook it. He couldn’t help the feeling that the shake of that hand was a seal of his fate.

The orchestral music had picked up, a swirl of strings and piano, ascending in pitch until it grated at Jon’s ears. No one else seemed to react to it, however, as the manic notes pulling at something inside Jon’s brain, something he couldn’t explain. It was almost like a migraine, but sharper and deep in his spine and in his ears. Elias let go of Jon’s arm at some point during the conversation with Peter Lukas, a discussion about boats, maybe? Travel? This was the conversation Elias was so keen on Jon being a part of?

As Jon felt that grip relax, the glint of the ring on Elias’ finger seeming to wink at him, Jon took a staggered step backwards. “Mr. Lukas, ah-Peter, it’s been a pleasure. Elias, ex-excuse me.”

Jon turned and dashed out of the library, feet carrying him on instinct through the winding halls and down the stairs of the institute, deep into the Archives. He stopped when he felt his feet echo against the cold, solid lino of the archival storage and bent over, hand on the wall, gasping in shallow, rapid bursts. It was too much, it was too much, he thought he could do this but it was too much and he wasn’t enough for them-

“Woah-boss.” Tim was there. When did Tim get here? Was he speaking out loud? Shit. “Jon, yeah-hey, Jon. I’m here. You’re okay. Take some deep breaths, okay? You’re going to black out if you’re not careful.”

Jon felt his suit jacket being shrugged off of him and the newly allowed freedom of his shoulder helped. He took a deep, sputtering breath, the sweet oxygen flooding his system and sharpening his thoughts.

“The-the music and the talking,” he said under his breath, Tim craning to listen without infringing on his personal space. “Too-too much.”

“The music? Jon, hey, hey, just focus on calming down, okay? That was a dick move of Elias to separate us immediately. I was talking to that Lukas guy for way too long. Not even sure what we talked about. I think he’s just one of those guys.” Jon smirked to himself as he focused on the floor beneath his feet, breathing slowly until his heart rate had resumed a normal rhythm.

“Says you,” he mumbled, eyes closing as he pressed his warm cheek to the cold wall.

“You bastard!” Jon felt a light swat on his shoulder. “I listen to people! I have meaningful conversation; just ask Martin and Sasha and Alexa from Library and Calvin from Artefact Storage. I am practically a professional listener.”

Jon smirked, satisfied with his jab and turned around, now pressing his back to the wall. “God, Tim, I do not want to go back in there.” It was hard to admit out loud, even if the evidence was written all over his face.

“Okay. So, we won’t.”

“What?” the answer was so mind-bogglingly simple, Jon reeled.

“We don’t want to be here. We’ve talked, we’ve eaten. Let’s just leave. I can tell Elias I had an emergency and you had to escort me home, like a true gentleman.”

“Lie to Elias? I feel like that cant end well.” The offer was tempting, Jon hadf to admit.

“I mean, Sasha has keys to my flat. I could ask her to start a fire, if you think that’s sufficient?”

Jon barked out a laugh at that. “Ah, no, lets save a fire for something big. Yes. Let’s-let’s go, Tim. And-er, I suppose I should thank you. For coming tonight. I know its not an ideal way to spend an evening.”

“Are you kidding?” Tim did a twirl, Jon’s own jacket slung over his shoulder. “I look hot. You think I’d pass up an opportunity to dress up like this? You’re dreaming.” He smirked and took Jon’s arm, leading him back up the stairwell. It felt different than Elias’s touch. That had been a cold tug, directional and leashed. This felt…snug, more like a link in a chain than anything else. Comforting, reassuring.

(Luckily, they weren’t laughed out of the Nando’s they popped into late at night. Lemon and herb and spices covered their hands, but they were careful to keep their jackets clean. Jon, when looking back on the evening; remembers this moment, talking and laughing and letting the fresh night air was over them. Elias, Lukas, and Fairchild be damned. He’d deal with that tomorrow.)

#the magnus archives #tma #tma fanfic #fanfic to a tea #jonathan sims #tim stoker #prompt fic #black-tie #elias bouchard #still a dick #peter lukas #simon fairchild #sasha james #me? write everyone BUT martin>#amazing

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years ago

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A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 29

First

Chat was still reeling from the bombshell that was ‘everyone apparently knows about his family life’ when Master Fu had told them that he probably knew Hawkmoth… and then, because apparently the universe wasn’t done with him, Master Fu had told them that he had personally chosen Hawkmoth.

Master Fu sighed as he looked over all their faces and then motioned for them to sit down. They did so without question or complaint, though it was mostly because everyone was in shock and on autopilot.

He leaned heavily against his cane.

“You all know the way the story started. About thirty years ago, a woman calling herself Paon started terrorizing Paris with what she called Sentimonsters using the peacock miraculous.”

Of course they knew the story. They had only been alive for a little more than half of it, but that didn’t mean they didn’t remember the giant Sentimonsters wreaking havoc every day. Those kinds of memories stick with you.

“To counter her, a man called Pieris, with powers that varied by the battle, rose to counteract her.”

They all nodded. They were beginning to piece together who Hawkmoth was, they weren’t stupid, but… one thing didn’t make sense:

“But Pieris would have been an akuma, not Hawkmoth,” said Rena, frowning.

“Who says Hawkmoth can’t akumatize himself?” Said Master Fu quietly. He sighed again, looking even older than usual. “Anyways, you all know that it took about twenty years for him to defeat her.”

They all nodded again. Chat hadn’t been allowed out, but he remembered all of the parties and celebrations when it had been announced that Paon’s reign of terror was over.

(Not that he’d wanted to be let out at the time. His mother had just died, going out and having fun had felt wrong. How could he be happy when his mother would never be able to do so again?)

“But… it turned out that the man that I had chosen to be Pieris was Paon’s husband. When he found out what he had done to his wife, he was overcome with grief. His miraculous corrupted him.”

Beside him, Rena clenched her fists. “So… did you choose Paon, too? Is this just our fate? One day we’ll just go evil and there’s nothing --?”

“No,” Master Fu cut her off. “Paon… it was passed through her family. Sometimes the person would use it for good, other times bad, but no matter what they passed it on once the eldest child became an adult.”

Rena relaxed, but only slightly.

Chat couldn’t find it in himself to do the same.

He turned and buried his face in Rena’s shoulder, unsure what to do. There was no way...

Right?

Chat bit his lip.

His parents had always been very busy and a little bit distant, though he had just attributed that to their jobs. Then there was the fact that his mother’s death coincided with the day that Paon had last been seen. When Paon and Pieris had disappeared his father had been more present, and when Hawkmoth had appeared his father had suddenly had a heavy workload again...

But that could be explained away, he thought. The death could be an unlucky coincidence, and who wants to do extra work when their wife has just died? And then who’s to say that his father couldn’t get back into work again by the time Hawkmoth had appeared? No, that could make sense.

His father HAD been really interested in his ring, though --.

No.

Gabriel Agreste COULDN’T be Hawkmoth. Chat didn’t have any proof of it, but he knew it to be true. Sure, the man was distant, but that didn’t mean he was evil. After all, Chat still had memories of his father sitting him on his lap and letting him color a design he’d made. He could still remember all the times his father had shifted aside in bed so he could cuddle after a nightmare. How could a man like that be evil?

How could a man like that knowingly endanger his son every day?

No. There were other people.

Sure, there were only a few people he could consider himself close to, but that didn’t mean he never talked to anyone outside of his family, servants, Kagami, and Chloe. As an Agreste, he’d attended many different balls and galas and even business meetings to represent his family, he was acquainted with plenty other rich people.

Yeah. There were other options. He was just jumping to conclusions because of the Traitor Scare a few days beforehand. Yeah. It was someone else. It had to be.

Rena had been the one to escort Master Fu home. Maybe it was to question him further, they didn’t know. They were all pretty sure they didn’t want to ask, though, because she came home looking even more dejected than before.

When she got back she took a seat on the table. Chat had perched himself in the window. Chloe had laid across the couch, legs in Ladybug’s lap. Carapace had slung himself across the armchair.

Despite the disparity in their positions, however, all their faces had the same contemplative look.

Rena was the first one to speak: “Fuck that guy, am I right?”

Ladybug laughed a little, though it sounded forced. “Yeah. All I’m getting is that the bitch didn’t use to have child heroes.”

There was a beat, and then Carapace sat up suddenly. “Wait a minute, you’re right! Pieris was an adult!”

“It’s probably because kids are easier to manipulate,” said Chloe quietly. All eyes fell on her. “Think about it. Chat, Ladybug, and Carapace never really defend themselves -- Carapace defends other people, sure, but he wasn’t close enough to any of us to bother before. Rena and I both started out practically worshiping at least one of you guys. For one reason or another, we were all pretty easy to manage.”

The silence that followed the statement was deafening.

The longer they stewed in it the angrier they got and the luckier they were that Hawkmoth had already used up his akumitization of the day.

“Can’t believe that he did this to stop me from retiring -- actually, no, I can believe it,” muttered Carapace. “I shouldn’t have told him I was thinking about leaving for college. Should’ve just applied, made a public statement, and then dropped the bracelet on his doorstep… damn him...”

Rena laughed bitterly. “‘Damn him’ is right. Really, though, I should’ve known he was fucked from the start. Who the hell goes up to someone and says ‘I have been looking for a person like you for a while now’?”

“You punched him, right?” Said Chloe with a frown.

“Obviously. I punched him and ran. Went the wrong way, though, and ended up cornered in an alley.”

“You definitely should’ve been wary of him after that one,” agreed Ladybug. “If he had done that to me I wouldn’t have trusted anything he tried to put on my neck even if I saw a God coming out of it... maybe I would’ve trusted him less if that happened, actually.”

“Things have gone downhill since I was recruited, apparently.” Chat said with a weak grin, and Ladybug nodded her agreement. “I had to save him from getting run over. Which was stupid, might I add. What if I hadn’t looked up in time? Did he have a backup plan or was he just going to let himself get hit if I didn’t notice?”

“Wait, go back. You had to save him from a car?” Said Chloe. “I had to pick up his cane for him! Where was my super cool trial?”

“I think I can answer both of you guys’ questions…”

Everyone looked at Carapace, but he was determinedly looking at his phone.

“Well, for one, no, he did not have a backup plan.”

Rena’s hand flew to her mouth. “You let him get hit?!”

Carapace winced. “Okay, wait, hold up. I did not ‘let him get hit’. I just… didn’t notice that he was in danger until he was hit, there’s a difference.”

Ladybug and Chat looked at each other and their eyes widened as they realized something at the same time.

“Oh my kwami, are you the reason he has to use a cane?”

He didn’t seem to hear this, apparently very interested in something on his phone.

“Are you the reason he has to use a cane?” Chat repeated.

Still nothing.

“Carapace… Carapace… please tell me you’re not the reason,” said Ladybug. Her voice wobbled with either laughter or tears, Chat wasn’t sure.

Apparently their friend had gone deaf without them noticing.

Chloe’s eyes were alight with what was definitely laughter. “Your first day was even worse than mine!”

“PLEASE,” said the no longer deaf Carapace. He briefly set his phone down to count off on his fingers: “Let’s see… revealed your identity, covered half the city with honey, nearly crashed a train, got akumatized --.”

He never got to finish, because Chloe had thrown herself at him and started trying to smother him with a pillow.

“That’s a throw pillow, Chlo, you’re supposed to throw them,” supplied Rena.

He tried to yell something through the pillow, probably ‘traitor’, but it sounded like “Huhu!”

Chat smiled and walked over to Carapace’s fallen phone and started recording.

There was no context for the video that showed up on Carapace’s account that night.

All the people of Paris got was a video of Chloe and Carapace rolling around on the floor, laughing as they took part in what was essentially a pillow fight at that point.

Rena was in the background. She was goading them on, yelling encouragement for whoever she wanted and switching sides at the drop of a hat.

Ladybug was also there, her lips pressed together thinly in an attempt to hide a smile as she made eye contact with the camera and gave an eyeroll.

Chat’s laughter, which had been a soft but constant sound throughout the video, picked up briefly at the eyeroll.

The video cut.

Despite his exhaustion, he hadn’t been able to sleep. So, at four in the morning, he shuffled downstairs with a blanket wrapped around himself.

He started towards the kitchen for something to eat, only to stop cold when he heard a quiet scraping sound from inside.

The lights were still off in the kitchen… and everyone should have been asleep or out on patrols...

Many thoughts ran through his head. Hawkmoth could be back. Robbers could be in the house.

He pulled out his phone and transformed. If it was people robbing the place he’d need proof for the police, and if it was Hawkmoth Rena would kill him if he didn’t get a picture (if Hawkmoth didn’t kill him first, of course).

He started recording and then walked to the door, flicking the light on.

Ladybug was sitting on the counter in a Totoro onesie, eating mac and cheese straight from the pot.

He relaxed and let his phone arm fall limply to his side. “Oh, it’s just you.”

She nodded. “Yeah. I was hungry.”

“I can see that.” He realized something as she pulled more food to her mouth and he squinted just to make sure. “Is that… is that brown?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Put coffee in it.”

He was tempted to try and clean out his ears, because there was no way she should have been able to say that so nonchalantly.

“WHY?!”

“Wanted to see if it tasted better.”

He stared at her, trying to gauge if she was messing with him… and then, because he simply had to know, he asked: “And… and does it?”

She looked down at the abomination she had created sadly.

“No.”

~~~

Taglist

@nathleigh @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen @woe-is-me0 @ladybug-182 @cas-and-their-refusal-to-write @trippingovermyfeet @melicmusicmagic @meimei3841 @roseliali

#a miraculous tiktok account #chat noir #adrien agreste #rena rouge #alya cesaire #queen bee #chloe bourgeois #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #carapace #nino lahiffe #miraculous team #miraculous fic #ml fic #mlb #chloenette #chlonette #adrino

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wallgirl · 3 years ago

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The Little Nereid Part 13

Record of Ragnarok fanfiction

Poseidon x OC

Word count: 1,200

Dynamene, youngest of the 50 Nereids, has lived most of her adolescence as a servant alongside her sisters at Poseidon’s palace. But with her coming-of-age birthday and other developments, what she initially thought was just admiration of her master blossoms into something stronger and more passionate… and painful. Loving someone like Poseidon is not easy period, let alone as your first love. But Dynamene is young and naïve, and all she wants is a chance to be at the sea god’s side.

Categories and warnings: Romance, angst, unrequited love, coming-of-age, earn-your-happy-ending, slow-burn (ish); no sexual content. There will be some graphic violence in the future.

Updated regularly; will have about 20 parts total.

—

"Anything?" Poseidon growled lowly at the sailfish that approached him gingerly.

"No, my lord," the sailfish squeaked. "I'm deeply sorry. There has been no sighting of her." It's fins fluttered anxiously.

"Search again. No one rests until she is found. No one."

"Of course, my lord." The sailfish jetted hastily back out into the sea.

Poseidon exhaled through his nose in frustration. It had been hours since he had received word that Dynamene had run away, and there was still no clue as to where she might have gone. He himself was checking all the spots he knew the Nereids frequented near the palace, but they had all come up empty-handed. He was running out of patience. The Nereids that had stayed behind from the trip to their family home had all scattered out into the ocean as well, searching every spot they could think of that Dynamene might have gone too. It frustrated him to think that there were places she liked to visit that he didn't know about, but he snapped at himself for this. Now isn't the time.

He surfaced quickly back at the palace's beach, ocean droplets running off his body as he strode without a break in his pace from the water onto the sand. The preliminary search was turning up empty-handed. Now it was time to look deeper for clues as to where she might be.

He walked the palace halls towards her room, boots clicking heavily. He doubted anything about her escape was premeditated, but it might hold some clue as to where she might have gone.

Once he reached her door, he paused. The door creaked open before him, as if inviting him in. He'd never stepped foot in her room before, and to do so now felt almost invasive. Preposterous, he thought to himself. This is my palace, and this room belongs to me. He entered without a second more of hesitation.

It was strange to think that in the past thousand years, he'd never been in this room.

He approached the boudoir first. There were no cosmetics or other care items on it, save for a single hairbrush and a few hair pins. Her bed was unmade, the blankets tossed hastily to one side. He could picture her the morning of their departure, rushing to get ready for the trip. It was an almost comical thought.

Taking a moment to slowly scan the room, he noticed a glimmer of something blue peeking out from under her pillow. Without hesitation, he flipped it over.

A thin blue satin box laid beneath.

He stared at it. It was the same box he had presented her the bracelet in. Had she been sleeping with it under her pillow all this time? Irrationally sentimental.

He replaced the pillow with more care than necessary.

How could he have known, all those years ago when the Nereids had first come to the palace, that something like this would happen? That the little girl who had shaken upon first introducing herself would someday look at him with unadulterated affection in her eyes instead of terror? He knew many people were drawn to the idea of being at his side. He had power in excess; something many were eager to get a taste of.

But Dynamene had no interest in or need of power. She came from a privileged family, and she led a charmed life. She was sheltered and naïve. Ulterior motives had no place in her pure, simple world. In her mind's eye, she saw him only as a figure of romance. What a sight that must be, he pondered. Trying to imagine himself through the view of an infatuated adolescent girl made his lip curl.

But as misled as her affections might be, they were genuine. She was concerned for him. She wanted to talk to him. She took every chance to catch a glimpse of him. And he had no idea how to respond to it.

No, he was lying to himself. He was already responding in his own way; giving her gifts, entertaining her attempts at conversation, and spending time with her. He was unconsciously encouraging her feelings. But why?

He thought of her wide gray eyes, and how they seemed to hold nothing but love and earnest desire when she stared at him. He'd never seen such a look in anyone else's gaze before. Not for him. It was new, and strange, and all for him. He didn't want her feelings to belong to anyone else. He wanted to matter the most to her. And at the moment, the sun rose and set over him in her eyes.

But things couldn't continue the way they were, in this strange limbo. What would her family do? After this disaster, there was no way they would approve of her staying at his palace. At least, not her sisters. Her parents might be another story. If he gave them his word that he would not harm her... Well, how could they refuse him, anyway? Dynamene already more-or-less belonged to him. The moment her parents had released her to his custody, she had become his. Any show of her still belonging to her parents' house was superficial. They had no power to go against his desires. He was Poseidon, one of the most powerful of Olympus. They were inconsequential in comparison.

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, he felt a faint hum of power coming from somewhere else in the room. His eyes narrowed. The sensation was faint, but insistent - it could only belong to that of an Olympian. There was something in this room that had been imbued with power by an Olympian other than himself.

He quickly honed in on the source; the tall dresser directly across from her bed. He strode to it rapidly and pulled out the bottom drawer.

Tucked in a heap of fabric was a golden pomegranate, faintly glowing with godly power. He grit his teeth, immediately recognizing the power's signature as belonging to Hera. What was an item imbued with Hera's power doing in Dynamene's room? He lifted it with one hand, examining it thoroughly. It appeared to be a blessing of some sort; she must have given it to Dynamene during her recent visit.

He swallowed hard, anger rising once again. If she had anything to do with Dynamene's disappearance, she would find herself meeting the same end as their worthless brother, relations with Zeus be damned. The pomegranate formed a faint crack on its gilded surface; he was squeezing it too tightly in his rage. He replaced it back in the dresser for now. Dynamene had chosen to keep it hidden for some reason, but why, he had no idea. Only Hera was able to answer the questions he had now, but he couldn't leave for Olympus when Dynamene was still missing. Finding her took priority; interrogations could wait until later.

Besides, he was no idiot. Why would Hera have given Dynamene, who was so enamored with him, a blessing, if not to push her into a relationship with him somehow?

He pushed his anger to the back of his mind for now. He had to find Dynamene first. He would sate his wrath later.

Pulling himself back together, he left her room. He had to return to the beach. If need be, he was going to search the whole ocean himself.

—

Author’s Notes: Poseidon is such a strange guy.

You know, I was thinking... If he was perfect and completely steadfast in his beliefs, would Sasaki's taunts have gotten to him? Naw. Poseidon is just a superpowered man chasing perfection, and unable to live up to his own ideals. That's a little tragic. Of course, doesn't make him any less messed up. But determination is sexy. I wonder where those ideals came from anyway, that gods should be perfect and this and that? None of the other gods around him his whole life were perfect. Maybe just an excuse for his own superiority complex? Or is he a deeply insecure individual deep down? Gahhhh the world will never know.

#record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok poseidon #poseidon #poseidon x oc #shuumatsu no valkyrie #fanfiction

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trutimeline · 4 years ago

Text

idislikecispeople, The Most Infamous Dyscourse Blogger: Part 1.0, Rumors

idislikecispeople, also known as many names throughout her time on Tumblr (such as Adele, Kat, Mami, Samantha and Sayaka), was a former Tumblr blogger who became infamous for coining the term "tucute", among many other controversial things she has posted on her blogs. This was supposed to be one, very long masterpost about her, but Tumblr's post editor is a bitch and won't let me do that.

In this post, I'll be debunking or confirming rumors commonly spread about idislikecispeople. The rest of my posts about her will each be dedicated to a specific controversial belief she held or situations she got into. For simplicity's sake, I'll be referring to idislikecispeople as Kat for the rest of this post and future ones.

Rumors

Kat Coined the Terms "Truscum" and "Tucute"

Verdict: Partially True

Kat coined the term tucute, but she did not coin the terms truscum or transmedicalist.

Here's a screenshot of Kat's original definition of a tucute:

Transcript:

What is Tucute?

What does tucute mean?

Tucute is basically just the opposite of truscum, it’s a term and community for trans, nonbinary, and/or non-cis individuals created to separate anti-truscum from truscum and to serve as a safe place from truscum and from cis people, where they believe that being trans requires dysphoria, we do not,where they think that being trans is a medical condition, we do not,and where they deny numerous gender identities on the basis that it “discredits the trans community” we do not.

What are the prerequisites to be a part of the tucute community?

You have to be trans, nonbinary, and/or non-cis in general

You have to accept all pronouns and gender identities

You haveto believe that dysphoria is not necessary to be trans

You have to dislike truscum

You cannot side with truscum or believe in their ideology

You cannot misgender anyone no matter how mad they make you

You cannot be an ableist whatsoever

Did you invent the tucute community? Why?

I indeed did coin the tucute term and community and anyone who says otherwise are creeps who are trying to steal it from me and redefine it for their own nefarious doings. I started this community so anti-truscum could separate themselves from truscum and cis people who are a part of the truscum community, it serves as a safe space from both truscum and cis people.

I’m cis, can I be tucute if I believe in your movement and want to help?

No, you can’t be tucute if you’re cis, you can only be a tucute ally, and you need to be sure to never speak for or over a trans person.

I see a lot of tucuties being just as harmful as truscum, what will you do about it?

There isn’t much I can do to them other than ask them to stop aligning with the tucute community, and of course, that doesn’t mean they will. Also be noted that truscum and cis people will pretend to be tucute just to tarnish the name of the tucute community, so tread lightly, you might be talking to a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Spread the word, use the tag #tucute and join the army today!

[A digital drawing of Sayaka Miki from Puella Magi Madoka Magica in her magical girl form, with a banner underneath her reading "Tucute 4 U!"]

(source) (source)

Kat Was a Cisgender Woman Who Lied About Being a Transgender Woman

Verdict: False

This rumor primarily comes from a post on Kat's oldest known Tumblr blog, chromaghost, where she claims that she wasn't MTF and only tagged a selfie as such because she thought that transgender people were "cool".

Transcript:

Anonymous asked: are you a mtf? i seen it tagged on one of your photos.

No lol. I wanted to post it to the tag because transgender people are cool :3

(source) (source) (source)

However, Kat addressed this post and made it clear she very much was a transgender woman multiple times on her later blogs. This claim can also be confirmed with nude photos Kat posted online, which I don't feel comfortable spreading, so you'll just have to trust me on that one. I also don't feel comfortable directly encouraging you to go and dig up those nudes, as most of her nude photos were either taken when she was a minor, spread without her consent and/or were uploaded because people pressured her into posting nudes to "prove" she was a transgender woman.

Transcript:

Anonymous asked: you bound with ace bandage in one of your selfies. i don't know what to think about you anymore. according to some people you're a 27 year old cis woman scamming us, but you say you're a 22 year old trans woman. i want to trust you but i don't know if i can. i'm sorry.

Rest assured I’m not 27 years old lol. What you’re referring to is a less than graceful ~art piece~ we did (”Playing a Boy” or something) on deviantART when we were 16/17 (?) and really ill-informed. I ask you to not take that as how I stand currently – as I have learned so much more since, and I have a penis and I was designated male at birth because of it (feel free to purchase a passcode to our nsfw blog to see for yourself). At the time we were developing breast tissue but still had to appear as a ‘boy.’ Don’t bind with Ace bandages, kids, it can damage your rib cage, something we didn’t know at the time.

(source) (source)

Transcript:

[A picture of two prescriptions, estradiol and spironolactone, both prescribed to Adele Sheffield.]

grandtran still gonna think I photoshopped it or what

(source)

Transcript:

Anonymous asked: In other words, you aren't gonna cough up the pics because you know you can't fake that shit because you're actually cis. Cool. BTW why do you keep changing your story about the blog, and if the blog was run by you when you were in denial about being trans because of self hate, why were the pics tagged mtf and you were constantly saying trans people were cool?

Yeah I’m not gonna do something for y’all and get nothing in return except more doubt from you, you see how one sided that kind of request is? Also its technically considered sexual harassment, just because its on the internet, you’re a coward (whats your username btw?), and you think I’m cis and you want me to prove time and time again to you that I’m dmab doesn’t justify sexually soliciting someone when they’re not comfortable in being solicited – for free no less.

At first I genuinely had no memory of that blog, it was only active for all of 2 months and for some reason I moved onto a new email and new tumblr, and I haven’t the foggiest why. As for the whole “me claiming to not be ~mtf~” I don’t have any memories from that time, I can only assume it was a lot of dysphoria fueled self-hatred and wanting to be seen/pass as a cis girl lesbian.

If you’re really gonna solicit nudes from a trans woman (a second time) as they do sex work to try and stay on their feet without offering anything in return just so your transmisogynistic ass can get off to trying to tell me my dick is fake isn’t classy at all. I perish the thought of what you’re parents would think of this behavior from you. But yeah, feel free to send some money to my paypal so I can get the gender markers on my records changed because that’s gonna cost a lot apparently, and I’ll definitely send you the dick pics you want. :)

(source) (source) (source)

Transcript:

[A picture of a a hospital bracelet on Kat's wrist. The patient's name is Adele Sheffield and her sex is labeled as "M".]

(source)

Kat Lied About Having Diabetes To Get Money From Tumblr Users

Verdict: False

This doesn't need much commentary from me, just view the screenshots below.

Transcript:

To the people who keep harping on me buying a $15 video game for my mental health 7 MONTHS ago “with my donation money,” well, here you go, some proof, links and screenshots provided

So for everyone spreading misinformation about me spending $15 on a video game for my mental health, here’s a full list of reasons why there is no way, shape, or form I spent my paypal money on it:

Yes, I spent $15 of my own money after selling one of my possessions, not denying it:

[A screenshot of a Tumblr post by Kat where she shows off a copy of Fall Out: New Vegas, marked with a price of $14.99. The date of the post is marked as July 21, 2014 at 06:28.39 PM.]

Be sure to look at the date, July 21st, 2014 6:28 PM. Now lets look at my first donation post asking for help:

[A screenshot of a Tumblr post by Kat where she asks for donations to be able to afford insulin because she has no insurance. The date of the post is marked as July 20, 2014 at 08:14.00 PM.]

Hmm, one day before the purchase of said game, July 20th 2014 at 8:14 PM. Now, I’ve never heard of a video game store — much less a non-chain video game store accepting payment for video games in the form of virtual Amazon gift cards, have you? Oh, but you’re gonna say, “well you bought the game with your paypal donations anyway!” Well, here’s exhibit C:

[Another screenshot of a separate post made by Kat where she is also asking for donations to be able to afford insulin. The date of the post is marked as July 23, 2014 at 12:27.46 PM.]

Again, looking at the date of this posting which is the original donations post, you can see it was posted on July 23rd, 2014 at 12:27 PM, a full 2 days after I had bought the game. Now, if there’s no way for me to use Amazon gift cards for a real life video game store, then how can I go back in time a minimum of 2 full days to give past me $15 to buy said game, hm? This isn’t even accounting for the fact that I didn’t even have my own bank account associated with it until over a week later, and it surely doesn’t account for the fact that it takes up to 5 days to transfer from paypal to your bank account. All the dates are linked to the original unedited posts so you can see for yourself, and for added measure my first deposit was on August 14th, 2014:

[A screenshot of a deposit made by Kat. The date is marked as 08/14/14.]

Oh but yeah, anti-sjs, truscum, and the like took damniwishidthoughtofabettername’s postthey used to gaslight us with misinformation and you all bought it. Tell me how I could misuse donations that I could not use outside of Amazon and money I didn’t even start receiving until a full two days later, let alone the fact that there’s no way I could have transferred said money and used it two days prior as of the date of the paypal donations post.

I hope some of y’all could reblog this and get the word out, I’m sick and tired of people buying into that misinformation that person did solely to gaslight me as a means to try and disrupt my donations drive.

(source) (source) (source) (source) (source) (source) (source)

Transcript:

[A selfie of Kat holding up a vial of Novolin to the camera.]

Hey anon, I don’t feel comfy giving you my receipts (because doxxing is a thing) but here you go, a selfie with my most recent insulin purchase. 👽

(source) (source) (source) (source) (source) (source) (source)

Transcript:

Anonymous asked: Getting desperate for money again I see. How is your fake diabetes lately. I bet your blood sugar is like 800 this time and you're still able to be alive somehow.

You got me, I’m ~totally faking~

[A selfie of Kat. In the background several items used by diabetics are seen such as insulin syringes, glucose tablets, a blood sugar tester and test strips.]

[A picture that gives us a closer look at the background of the previous selfie.]

[A selfie of Kat holding up two vials, one of Lantus and the other of Humalog.]

Gee, must be one dedicated faker, right? To have hundreds of dollars of insulin equipment and insulin itself. Hmmm… Insulin syringes, glucose tablets, a blood sugar tester and test strips.. oh and insulin, hmmmm….

Oh and because you didn’t learn from last time you don’t die instantly when your blood sugar goes over 600 lol, something anyone who studies endocrinology can tell you, and I would know, being a diabetic, having to be hospitalized numerous times for ketoacidosis where the blood sugar has been too high for too long. Things you clearly do not know and you’re just jumping on the disableist bandwagon. I have an idea of who you are anyway, just doing this for future reference.

(source)

#idislikecispeople #dyscourse #transmed #truscum #tucute

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feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years ago

Text

chapter twenty five: a good boy

“that’s not how you move a closet! that’s the worst closet moving i’ve ever seen!” -jim gaffigan

Aurora had begun frequenting the San Francisco Bay Area more and more often from that point onward; given Sam was often riding back down to Los Angeles and onto Catalina Island, she only got to see her old friend for half of a day before one of them had to leave. Every single time, however, she noticed her growing bigger and bigger. To think that she had shown Sam another side to her all the while, and yet all she could think about was her mother's words in how when children were involved, things became harder to deal with. And even though he wasn't a kid anymore, she wondered how Alex was handling the whole feud between her and Aurora.

It only made sense to acknowlede it with him: he participated in her and Emile's wedding after all.

And in the meantime, Testament had fulfilled their time there at that studio and Eric had the final say with it all to Ruben, who made the mad dash back to the label itself in order to submit the new album. A month's time and they would take their stride alongside Metallica and everyone else: this little quintet out of the Bay Area about to nip at their heels and let the world know that they were in fact a force to be reckoned with.

But at one point, within mere hours of Eric handing the final tape over to Ruben, Sam found herself in a strange spot.

All the traveling to and fro between the Bay Area and Catalina Island. All the unsettled feelings and being divided up between both of her parents. The new beds each and every week. Every single time, a little harder on her. Every single time, she just wanted to stop for a second, if only to observe the oleanders as they bloomed against the San Francisco fog and the persistent cold despite winter's transformation into springtime. Some of them wilted and withered from the cold, but many of them returned once the sun poked out from behind the clouds, those five petals big and strong and either a deep shade of pink or pure white.

With Cliff, it was tulips. With Joey, deadly nightshade. With Alex, oleanders.

The end of April brought on the realization that Greg's birthday was coming up, as was Eric's. As if she needed more things to do as she met up with Alex at the cafe across the street from Ruben's house. Chuck and Tiffany had gone off somewhere else from that point out, and thus the two of them were once again left alone together.

He sat across from her and his long jet black hair fell down around his shoulders like a thick lush mane: that singular plume of gray stood almost upright over the right side of his brow like a little radio antenna. She eyed the collar of his shirt: the same shirt he wore when they made out in the pool room, and once more, he had undone the top two buttons and showed off a bit of his chest and his collar bones.

The soft scent of his cologne filled her nose even from across the table. He leaned back in his chair and kept his right hand close to the base of the cup. Sam leaned forward a bit as if she was making up for him.

“I still have yet to see your old high school,” she told him.

“I know you do,” he said with a thoughtful look on his face. “There's a lot you've just got to see around here, Samantha.”

He lifted his cup and brought it up to those sensual little lips, and then he lifted his gaze to her again.

“You sure you don't want anything?” he asked her.

“My dad's got stuff across the street,” she replied, and she sighed. He knitted his eyebrows together.

“Is everything okay? You don't seem like yourself.”

She lowered her gaze to the glass cover on the table top. How she wanted to be back in New York with Joey and also Marla and Belinda: it also felt like a million years since she had heard a word from the Cherry Suicides as well, even as she put on that shirt for another day that day. The fatigue settled over her like a wave of sorts.

Ruben had promised her a cup of coffee at any point during the day if she so wished but even after a nice warm one earlier that morning, she still had a bit of trouble waking up all the way for Alex right across the table from her. She sighed through her nose again and she propped up the side of her head within the palm of her hand.

“I can't keep doing this,” Sam finally said to Alex. “This incessant going back and forth between my parents' houses and taking the stinkin' bus every time. It literally feels as though I haven't made any art in a million years even though it's only been a couple of months since I started doing this.”

“Why's that?”

“Traveling is hard on me,” she confessed. “And by hard I mean, it's not like touring. It's getting on the bus right as I get settled into my dad's house or my mom's house. It's having to see you guys for a week only to vanish again for another whole week. I can't keep doing this.”

She folded her hands upon the table's surface and she gazed down at the glass covering there before them. She looked on at her own reflection as it looked back up at her: her own dark eyes gazed back at her. Her skin was still tight and smooth with her teenage days: still young Samantha, little Sammie, but she had reached the age of twenty four by some black magic.

“Well—remember what Eric and I both told you,” he said, “do what ever feels right to you.”

She raised her gaze back up to Alex, still with a thoughtful expression plastered across his face.

The cafe was quiet, except for the grinding noise of the coffee maker on the other side of the counter.

“I should ask you,” she began.

“Go ahead,” he encouraged her as he flexed his fingers on his right hand a bit: he returned his hand to the top of the table afterwards.

“How're you handling the whole thing with me and Aurora?” she asked him, to which he hesitated for a moment.

“It—actually hasn't crossed my mind all too much,” he confessed. “I've actually forgotten why you ladies were fighting each other in the first place.”

“She made your nineteenth birthday all about her,” she recalled. “And then when I tried to address that with her, she was a complete ditz and made everything about herself again.”

“Oh, yeah, that's right! Again, it actually hasn't crossed my mind very often. I've just had my mind on other things.”

“Like making an album?” Sam showed him a smile.

“Like making an album, right! Two albums to be exact. The New Order and now Practice What You Preach.”

“Germany, too,” she added.

“Germany, too! And ginger snaps.” She leaned forward again, and once more had her hands folded over each other. The fire opal bracelet Chuck gave her clinked against the glass underneath her.

“I made out with you,” she said in a soft voice.

“You made out with me or did I make out with you?” he asked her.

“Both.”

Alex squinted his eyes at her. He shuffled his feet under the table, and he flexed his fingers again.

“You alright?” she asked him as she eyed his hand.

“I'm feeling it again,” he admitted to her.

“Feeling what?”

“It.”

Sam lowered her gaze to the cup of coffee before him and she nibbled on her bottom lip.

“French up that coffee and we'll talk,” she told him.

“French? You mean Irish.”

“Nah, I mean French.”

Alex held still with his hands on either side of the cup. He looked up at her with those deep eyes focused and steady upon her. For a split second, she swore that he lowered his gaze towards her chest. He flinched those long fingers a bit.

She thought about the things that Joey had told her over the phone that one time and she thought about doing them to Alex instead. Her lips around him. His fingers down below the equator and his tongue up inside of her.

He picked up the cup and took a sip, and not for a single second did he remove his gaze from her. He never seemed more hypnotic before: a little loose back there in the pool room and he suddenly became Mr. Seducer. She thought about Joey's venom, the way in which he seemed to slide and slither about like the deadly nightshade he so sprouted from: Alex came from somewhere else, as if from a fever dream. Where Joey resided within the earth, Alex seemed to burn into her with those deep eyes.

She sighed through her nose and bowed her head a bit to bring attention to her chest. Once more, for a split second, he dropped his gaze by a mere hair.

It was there between them. It was real, as real as the grays on his head. As real as those deep eyes that gazed back at her as if he lured her in, much like those oleander bushes in the south land.

He flexed his fingers again and all Sam could think about was the day before wherein they were about to add the final touches before submission. She sat there in between Alex and Louie as Chuck was talking about going on tour that summer, and wherever they went from that point onwards was anyone's guess. The vibe that surrounded them was so tense and yet she sat there so comfortably in between those two men.

Louie mentioned something else about the poison garden to her and Aurora just happened to be there right next to him, now six months along and her gaze fixated on the clipboard rested upon her lap.

“I'm really feeling it, Sam,” he told her with a smile on his face once Eric picked up the phone to call up Ruben. “Our producer told us this new record could really put us forth.”

“Will it have a gift shop?” Aurora absently asked.

“Yeah, wolfsbane keychains,” Alex muttered under his breath, which in turn brought a giggle out of Sam.

He said it again right there in the cafe, and that time with a smile on his face.

“Yeah, wolfsbane keychains!” he exclaimed. “You and Louie have 'poison garden'—we should have wolfsbane keychains.”

“Wolfsbane, and not desert roses?” she asked him.

“You guys can have desert roses, too,” he pointed out.

“I say desert rose because I'm based out of the desert you know.”

“Of course! Desert roses for the desert rose right across from me.”

The door behind them swung open and Ruben stepped into the cafe with a blue and white tin tucked underneath his arm.

“Hi, Daddy!” she greeted him and she stood up and threw her arms around him.

“Hello, sweetie!” he returned the favor for her with his free arm. He then turned to Alex, who straightened himself up so he wasn't sitting so down low in the chair; but he handed Alex the tin. “Hey, son. Seeing as—you're such a hard working kid, these are for you.”

“What's this?” he asked him.

“What is it?” Sam echoed him as he took off the lid.

“Ginger snaps, baby,” he declared as he took a bite of that first little cookie.

“Ginger snap me up side the head,” she joked.

“Anyways, I've got the next hour off,” Ruben told them, “I'm in need of help for the two of you. Eric and Chuck both told me to bring in a couple of blank video tapes tomorrow because apparently the label wants you guys to film a music video in promotion of the new album.”

“Do you even have one?” Sam asked him.

“Yeah, it's somewhere packed away in that house—hence why I'm asking. Can't do it by myself. You know. You know how much that house still needs unpacking.”

“Absolutely!”

He then raised a finger to the both of them. “I'll be right back.”

He ducked away from them and headed back to the other side of the cafe, and right behind the counter there. Alex took another bite of ginger snap: the cookies in that tin were small medallions about the size of silver dollars so he could pop one into his mouth. Even though she liked him when he had a little bit of liquor in him, the sight of him eating those cookies brought a wave of comfort to her: she'd rather watch him get heavy from eating too many cookies than have his body go south from drinking.

If only Joey could get hooked on those as well.

“How are they?” she asked him.

“Excellent. The perfect amount of ginger, too. Sometimes they can be too much with it.”

She took one herself and he took a third one, and popped it into his mouth as if it was a potato chip. Indeed, he was right: it felt like a little kiss of ginger coupled with butter and some nutmeg.

“Speaking of ginger snaps, I guess Guns N' Roses are gonna be in town,” he told her once he swallowed down that bite. “Tomorrow night, I think.”

“Ah, cool! I wonder if Zelda got to see them again. She introduced me to them after all.”

“She probably did see them! They were back East just a few days ago. Prince actually got to open for them, believe it or not.”

“Wow! I wonder if she got to see him, too.”

“If she did, I envy her,” he admitted. “Prince is one hell of a guitar player. Hard to believe that album Purple Rain's actually five years old now.”

“I think it's funny that there's actually a guitar player called Prince—and you sort of came into my life like a dark heavy metal prince.”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“I wouldn't say it's funny,” he said, “it's definitely interesting to think about, though.” “A coincidence, would you think?” she asked him.

“There are no coincidences, Samantha—but everything has a purpose, though.”

“I just think of Belinda's first impression of you,” she recalled with a shake of her head.

“What was that?” He took another bite of ginger snap.

“She called you precocious.”

“I'll admit it,” he said upon swallowing. “I'd rather be seen as precocious than full of myself, even though I can be.”

“I can be, too,” she told him.

“I think it's better to be full of yourself with just the right amount of doubt thrown in all the while than be doubtful of everything and wear a mask of arrogance.”

Sam hesitated with her mouth slightly agape.

“I like you,” she told him.

“I like you, too,” he replied back to her with a raise of his cookie. “And I like the fact that you and now your father wanna give me cookies.”

“'Cause cookies are love,” she said.

“It's all spent doing fuck all,” he said with a straight face.

“Doing fuck all to fill your belly with love,” she pointed out.

“And my ass with ginger,” he retorted. It made no sense but she laughed at that anyway. Ruben returned to them and he rubbed his hands together.

“Come on, kids,” he beckoned them.

Alex put the lid back onto the tin and then with his free hand, he took the knit yarmulke out from his back pocket.

“Wow, I haven't seen that in forever and a day it seems,” she remarked as he stood to his feet.

“I haven't worn it in forever and a day,” he said, “mainly because we're going with your dad back to his place and not elsewhere.”

“Oh, I see!”

He tucked the tin underneath his arm and once Ruben held the door for the both of them, they crossed the street and back to the house. Ruben himself took to the linen closet and he encouraged them to take to the kitchen.

Sam knelt down before the small wooden table on the side of the room closest to the hallway. Nothing underneath there, but she did flash a glimpse over at Alex on the couch in the living room with the yarmulke on the arm right next to him. She missed her couch still, still there in the apartment in Hell's Kitchen. She pictured Genie curled up at the top, all by herself all the while.

Cliff sat there and drank Mexican hot chocolate with her.

She also pictured herself and Joey sleeping together on that couch: as soon as she thought that, she pictured herself and Alex together on that couch.

He stood up and turned around and she caught a view of the seat of his pants. He hitched them up and she couldn't help but let her eyes wander.

All those ginger snaps and incessant touring and working allowed his body to develop a lovely toned shape: slim and lanky, even slight, and yet he was nice and round in the rear end.

She had drawn Joey. She had drawn Frank. She had drawn Cliff. She had drawn herself.

She still needed to draw Alex: if only she could convince him of such, especially since there was no alcohol anywhere in the house. Even if there was alcohol anywhere in that house, there was no way it would fly by Ruben as he strode back into the front of the house. But she had to loosen him up somewhat, and there was only so much a ginger snap the size of a silver dollar could do for her.

Sam hurried over to Alex right as he turned around and he raised his dark eyebrows at her.

“What happened?” he asked her in a hushed voice given Ruben was right there next to them, and he delved through a small box he had tucked under the coffee table.

“Something has—come over me,” she confessed to him in a low voice.

“How so?”

She gestured for him to follow her. They got about five steps in when Ruben stopped them both.

“Where do you kids think you're going?”

“We're—going to look in my closet,” Sam told him.

“Of course, yes!”

She led him back into her bedroom and he left the door ajar behind them. She slid the doors open and she ducked inside first and pressed her back to the dividing wall behind her. Alex joined her with his back against a protective covering on a piece of dry cleaning.

She put her arms around his waist and she lingered closer to his face.

“Oh, I see what you're doing,” he said to her in a low voice.

“I want you loose again,” she confessed in a near whisper. She eyed those lips, smooth as ripe cherries and ready for her taking.

“I'm gonna fuck ya silly and then it's gonna be every man for himself from there on out,” he joked.

“Not if I'm the one who fucks you silly first,” she chided, “and it'll be every man and woman for themselves from there on out.”

“What's going on in there?” Ruben called from the next room.

“Nothing!” Alex and Sam called out in unison; she returned to him.

“Kiss me,” she begged him in a near whisper.

“Kiss you? Your dad's literally right there in the next room, Samantha!”

“Kiss me—the fact he's there will only make it sexier.”

“We are in your closet after all,” he pointed out.

“Just touch me already!” she insisted.

“What?” Ruben called out.

“It's okay, Dad!” Sam called out the closet door and then she returned to him.

“Okay, we really gotta do something or he's going to find out about us,” he told her in a hushed voice.

“And what if he does, Alex?” she demanded as she raised her chest up to him.

“Samantha, have you seen how he looks at me?” He dropped his gaze to her chest and he nibbled on his bottom lip. “He wants to skin me alive!”

“I don't think he does,” she assured him with a shake of her head. “I mean, he gave you ginger snaps for crying out loud, Alex. Now, when he and my mom were together and I brought Joey home with me, he definitely wanted to do things to him.”

“Why is that?” He frowned at that.

“Joey,” she started; even though she promised her mother to keep it under wraps, the cat was already out of the bag. “—I'm guessing reminds him of some guy my mom knew once.”

Alex snickered at that, but Sam smacked him in the shoulder.

“Ow!” he hissed, and then he rubbed his shoulder.

“What do you mean, 'ow'? I barely hit you!”

“A slap is a slap, though,” he pointed out.

“A slap is a slap like on your ass?” she asked him.

“Shhh!”

“What's going on in here?” Ruben's voice floated into the room right then.

“Nothing,” they both said once more in unison. He stepped into her bedroom and they peeked out of the closet together.

“Nothing in here, Dad,” Sam told him. “Really, there's like nothing in here.”

“I really haven't found anything in here, either,” he confessed as he pressed his hands to his hips. “I'll have to break down and buy some new ones, I guess.”

“There's a shop not too far from here that sells all kinds of stuff like that,” Alex told him.

“Oh?”

“It's right up the street here, actually. You just ask the lady in there about it and she'll show you and it's real cheap-o, too. One time, when I was little, my dad needed to tape a lecture and all I remember is him talking about how it was like a treasure trove in there.”

“Well, thank you, son, I'll—I'll be right back.”

Ruben bowed out of there and Sam turned to Alex once again.

“You are such a good boy,” she declared.

“Just doing what I can,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. The front door closed and Sam ran her tongue along her bottom lip.

“Why do you want me loose again, by the way?” he asked her as he pressed his hands to his hips.

“I want to draw you,” she told him.

“You wanna draw me?”

“Yes. I wanna draw you—the best way I can make love to you without getting you drunk. Or maybe I can if you so wish.”

“Nah, I get drunk, I wouldn't be able to stay in the seat.”

Sam turned to her courier bag there on the desk chair and she took out that brand new journal she had bought in Santa Monica for a brand new chapter in life.

“There's a stool in his room right down the hall,” she advised him. “Grab that and I'll turn the light on for you, Mr. Skolnick.”

He showed her a little smirk before he left the room. While he was in the next room, she peeled off her shirt and changed into one of those Death Angel shirts that she had brought along with her. She knew that if she ever had to eventually decide on a place to live, and she chose San Francisco, she would have to see them again, and that time in their home city no less. She moved the floor lamp in that room closer to the closet door, right in front of her.

Alex returned with the little black stool in question.

“Hey, cool shirt,” he remarked.

“One of many!” she declared and she gestured to the floor lamp right in front of her. “Have a seat.”

He closed the closet door and took a seat there on the stool.

“Tell you what—you draw me, you've gotta do it with Greg,” he said.

“Why?” she laughed at that.

“'Cause Greg could use it, that's why. You do it with Greg, I'll give you whatever the hell you so damn well please.” He hesitated for a second. “Gosh, that was a mouthful.”

She giggled at him.

“You're so sexy, Alex,” she said, “I should really draw you just for the fact you're so sexy—a bet or not.” He raised his eyebrows at that.

“You—wanna draw me? Should I strip naked or something like that?”

“Nah—you can leave your clothes on.” She stood up and walked on over to him. “Although—”

She reached forward to that third button and unfastened it for him with only two fingers. With her other hand, she did the same for the next one. Then the next one down. The next one down. Soon he stood there before her with his shirt open and a sliver of his bare body shown off to her.

“You only wanted to do that 'cause you wanted to undo my shirt for me,” he teased her, and he nudged his shirt back a little bit to show off a little more of his chest to her. She reached up and switched on the light for him.

“Oh, my,” she breathed out. “Oh, my, Mr. Skolnick.”

“Hey, now, Mr. Skolnick is my dad—I'm little Alex,” he insisted as he took his seat there on the stool. He leaned back a bit and showed off more of his body to her. The way the light shone down onto his pale smooth skin and onto the tops of his thighs.

“I thought you weren't little, though,” she recalled.

“To you, I'm not,” he teased her as he opened his legs a bit to get himself comfortable in front of her. He set his hands on either side of the stool's head and his eyes hooded a bit. His lips seemed extra plump and soft; his waist had slimmed down but also seemed a little bit thick at the same time.

Alex leaned back against the wall so more light cascaded over his body. The way the light bathed his body and made his already full face appear fuller, and his deep eyes even deeper. He tilted his head back and the light in turn made the skin on his neck, his chest, and his stomach appear so soft, smooth, and silken. Sam sat there across from him with her drawing pad rested upon her lap: every glimpse up to his body made her want to feel him some more. The scratch of the graphite made him seem much softer and sweeter.

To genuinely feel and touch him. Such a beautiful boy.

He cleared his throat.

“Remember on the road trip up to Carson and Tahoe we were talking about Georgia O'Keeffe?” he asked her.

“Of course,” she replied as she momentarily lifted her gaze back up to him.

“I think I spoke too soon.”

“Why is that?”

“You're absolutely filthy.”

“Filthy—ha! I don't think so.”

Alex raised his eyebrows at that.

“Seriously? You're absolutely loose. Loose like a loose—pussy.”

“Alex!” she said in a hushed voice.

“It's true, though. Although I will admit that that was rather tasteless.”

“Tasteless like my pussy?” she retorted back to him.

“Nah, I reckon your pussy's about as tasteful as that drawing you're making, hence the O'Keeffe reference.”

He clapped his hands together and stood to his feet with his arms in the air as if he had declared a victory. Sam leaned back in her chair and she eyed the slight curve on his waist. It was the most gentle curve she had ever seen, but the light on his skin made it appear right before her eyes.

“You might wanna take it easy on the ginger snaps, big boy,” she teased him. “You're getting kind of a tummy.”

He lowered his arms and looked down at his waist. He touched the skin there with the mere tips of his fingers.

“Not again,” he grumbled.

“Ever so slight, though,” she told him. “Like I can see it a tiny little bit around your belly button but you can't really see it with your shirt closed, though. It's gonna grow, though.”

He sat back down, and then he reached to his right for another ginger snap, which he shoved right into his mouth. She stopped drawing so she could watch him eat it up and then he reached for a second one and did the same.

“Could use some milk,” he said with his mouth full.

“Milk has fat in it, you know,” she pointed out, and he swallowed.

“Hence the point!” he proclaimed and he rubbed his belly with both hands.

“You are such a tease,” she scolded him, and he gave his black hair a little toss back with a flick of his head.

“Let me ask you something—what happened to you in that pool room?”

“I dunno. You kind of—woke me up, Alex.”

He showed her a smirk and straightened himself upright. She had a light soft sketch right there before her upon her lap but she figured it was something good to work from that point onward. A little extra dark shading with his hair except for the small gray tuft over his brow.

“Are you getting okay?” he asked her.

“Getting it good, my dear Alexander,” she said as she used the side of her pencil to shade in the side of his neck and the lapels of his shirt. “My dear Mr. Skolnick.”

She lifted up the drawing pad and showed it to him.

“Soft, silky, and utterly gorgeous,” she declared; he pressed a hand to his chest as if he had just seen the best thing ever.

“Think you can take it from here?” he asked her.

“Absolutely!”

The front door closed right then.

“That was fast,” she stated.

“I said it was literally right up the street,” he recalled as he closed his shirt; she kept that drawing on the seat of her chair and she hoped that Ruben wouldn't have to see it for himself as they headed back to the front of the house. He had gotten four fresh blank video tapes, much to Alex's surprise and slight disappointment.

“We're gonna need more than that, Mr. Shelley,” he said with a shrug. “When we did the video for 'Over the Wall', we used like six tapes. Well, and they were messing around with the effects of it, too.”

“Well, son, this is what I've got,” Ruben told him. “It's what they had, too.”

“So what do you think we're doing this for?” asked Alex as he fixed his shirt a bit more: Sam noticed the buttons were one off all the way up.

“Let's give it a try for 'The Ballad',” Ruben replied with a smirk on his face.

Sam and Alex glanced at one another, and all she could think about was when he picked her up from the side of the road, which she hadn't even told him about yet.

The whole thing with Aurora felt a little redundant at that point.

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slytherinbarnes · 4 years ago

Text

Sub Rosa [78]

vii. nevermind

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: language, blood, anxiety, fighting, violence, injuries.

Summary: Reeling from the loss of Clarke and your agreement to not exact revenge, you receive some welcome news.

a/n: HOW ARE WE HALFWAY DONE WITH S6 ALREADY!? the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

You toss and turn all night, plagued by dreams and memories of Clarke.

It’s not enough to be heartbroken while awake, you’re also heartbroken while asleep, unable to escape the loss of your twin. Most of the dreams are weird, a strange collection of memories gathered together and played in your mind. You dream of EMPing Raven and accidentally killing Maya in Mount Weather. You dream of Clarke leaving you and Bellamy in the fighting pits, watching Clarke mercy kill Finn, and landing on the ground for the first time, all of you watching Octavia be the first person back on Earth. You also dream of Monty and your father, and by the early dawn hours, it’s enough to drive you crazy.

You eventually give up on sleep and climb out of bed, leaving Bellamy’s sleeping form behind. As you get dressed for the day, you see Delilah’s dress draped over a chair, along with the bracelet she let you borrow, and you grab both of them and slip out of your room. As expected, both of her parents are downstairs in the tavern, preparing for the day, and only one other patron is in the room, a hooded figure tucked away in a corner, despite the early hour. Blythe Ann and Jae smile as they see you, motioning for you to come sit at the bar. “Can’t sleep?”

You shake your head and slide into the seat they motion towards, draping the dress across the seat beside it. “No, too busy being haunted by memories.”

Blythe Ann freezes, giving you a look of understanding, as Jae squeezes her shoulder in comfort. “I understand the feeling.”

“Speaking of,” you lift the dress onto the bar and set the bracelet on top of it. “These belong to Delilah, and I haven’t had the opportunity to give them back yet. I’m sorry.”

Blythe Ann shakes her head, pushing the dress back towards you. “You should keep it, Delilah would want you to.”

“I couldn't.”

“Please, we insist.”

You start to protest again, but Jae grabs the bracelet and reaches out for your hand. You give it to him, and he attaches the bracelet around your wrist, smiling as he does. You admire it, remembering the thought you had when you first put it on, a star for Clarke and one for Bellamy, and you fight back your rising tears as you look up at him. “Thank you.”

He just nods and grabs a basket of pastries, placing one on a plate in front of you while Blythe Ann pours you something to drink. You sit at the bar and eat your breakfast, enjoying the silence of the tavern as Delilah’s parents flit about, getting ready for the influx of customers. When you reach for your glass of juice, you accidentally knock it off the bar, sending it crashing to the ground below. You jump down and pick up the pieces, gathering them together as you frantically apologize to Jae, who is coming around the bar with a rag, ready to clean up your mess. “I’m so sorry, I didn't mean to.”

“No need to apologize, accidents happen.”

He smiles at you and you smile back, standing with the broken pieces of your glass in your hand. “What do you want me to do with this?”

“Here, I’ll take it.” Blythe Ann walks over, extending her hand out to you, and you drop the pieces into her hand. As one of them slides out of your palm, the jagged edge turns just enough to cut your palm, and you wince and mutter, “Shit.”

You peer down at the cut, watching as black blood starts to rise to the surface, and you feel a rush of panic as you remember the danger of anyone knowing the color of your blood. Even with your mom back in space, preparing to make Nightblood for the Primes, you’re not sure it's safe to have just anyone knowing your secret. You squeeze your hand closed, hiding the cut from view, just as Jae asks, “Did it cut you?”

“Just a little nick, nothing major.”

He reaches out for your hand, looking concerned. “Let me take a look.”

You shake your head, pulling your hand away, forcing out a casual laugh. “Really, I’m fine. Nothing to worry about.”

He shrugs, accepting your answer, handing you the rag instead. “In case you need it.”

“Thanks.”

He nods and walks off again, back to preparing for the day, and you rip off a strip of the rag and tie it around the cut. You look around, checking to see if anyone saw, but Blythe Ann and Jae are both still working, and the customer in the corner has their head bowed, seemingly unaware of any of their surroundings. You sigh and plop back in your seat, turning back to your breakfast again. It’s not long before you hear someone else coming down the stairs, and when you turn to look, your eyes land on your boyfriend, giving you a small smile as he approaches. He plops down beside you, in the chair unused by your new dress, thanking Jae as he brings Bellamy something to eat too. Once the couple turns back around and starts to work again, Bellamy reaches out and takes your hand, eyeing the torn strip of rag with concern. You look around, eyes a warning, shaking your head to let him know that you’re fine, but this is not the place to talk about it. He nods, before settling on a different topic instead. “Did you get any sleep?”

You nod, not wanting him to worry about you. “Yeah.”

You can tell that he doesn't believe you, but still he lets it go. “I saw Gaia in the hall. She said something is wrong with Madi.”

“What? What is it?” You turn to look at him in alarm, already preparing to stand up and go check on her, but he grabs you and stops you.

“She’s okay, it’s nothing Gaia can’t handle. It’s Commander stuff. Apparently there’s a dark Commander, Sheidheda, and he’s vying for control. Madi banished Gaia last night, but she told me she’s going to stick around out of sight, in case we need her.”

“Great. Just what we need, a Dark Commander trying to take over my niece's head.”

Bellamy squeezes your hand, “She’s going to be okay, we’ll keep an eye on her. Gaia will too.”

You nod but say nothing else, picking at the last little bit of food on your plate. Bellamy watches you closely, his eyes never leaving you, and he whispers, “The first time I ever heard Clarke’s name, we were still on the Ark.”

You turned to him, intrigued, and he continues, “I had just heard about you actually, The Invisible Twin.” You cringe at the nickname, and he gives you an apologetic look before continuing, “But it worried me. One of the most Privileged families on the Ark discovered to have a second, illegal child, and still you were locked up. It made me worry about Octavia and what they’d do to her. Not enough to keep me from taking her to that stupid party, but still.”

You squeeze his hand, wishing you could carry his guilt for him. He squeezes back before he adds, “Anyways, I was a cadet in my first few days of training, and they used to send us to all the things they didn't want to do. We got a call that there was a fight near the Privileged section that needed to be broken up, so we rushed over there to break the scuffle up. Imagine our surprise when we pull a girl off of a boy, the boy’s nose gushing blood, a black eye already forming. When we question the girl on who she is, she tells us her name is Clarke Griffin. Of course, the second we heard her last name we knew who she was. Then we asked her what happened, and she said that the boy made a comment about her twin, and how she deserved to be floated for being born. So Clarke punched him and told him to apologize, and when he made another comment about how her whole family needed to be floated, she punched him again. It was the only incident report on her record, up until she got arrested with your father.”

You give Bellamy a sad smile, simultaneously happy that he shared this story with you, but sad that your sister is still gone. “You’ve never told me that before.”

“I didn’t really remember it until a few days ago.”

“Clarke has always been fiercely protective, it’s something I love about her.”

“Funny, I love the same thing about you.”

You smile a little. “Must be a twin thing.”

“Must be.”

But as the story sinks deeper, your brain processing it even further, you whisper, “It feels like I’ve given up on her.”

“You haven’t.”

“Bellamy, we’re just letting them walk free. We’re letting Josephine walk around in my twin's body, and we’re doing nothing about it.”

He shakes his head. “No, we are doing something about it. We’re honoring Clarke’s legacy and we’re surviving. We’re doing better, keeping the peace, and building a compound of our own so we can live, truly live, once and for all. Everything she did, she did for her people. For you. For Madi. Building this compound and ending the cycle of violence means that all of us don't just survive, we thrive.”

You catch the reference he makes to Clarke’s speech to Arkadia before Praimfaya, and you think of how desperately Clarke wanted everyone to live, not just survive. How she always encouraged love and friendship and the happy moments in between all the war and fighting and chaos. You look at Bellamy, knowing that he’s right. This is what Clarke would want, this is how you honor her. You nod, relenting with a sigh, “Okay, so when do we meet with Russell?”

You and Bellamy head to the palace to meet with Russell, Miller in tow. Everyone insists that you bring a third party, someone who wasn't locked up for figuring out the secret of Clarke’s death, so the two of you decide on Miller, despite the fact that he’s just as much of a hothead as you and Bellamy.

Bellamy takes the lead at the meeting, knowing you can barely stand to look at Russell, let alone talk to him, and you stand by your boyfriend’s side, jotting down notes as you listen to Russell’s plans. As the meeting is nearing its end, Bellamy looks at Russell, summing everything up in one succinct sentence, “In exchange for ignoring that you murdered Clarke…”

He trails off when he hears the door open, and you all look towards it, watching as Josephine steps inside, her hair pulled back, Clarke’s clothes gone from her body. It's a shock to you to see her dressed the way she is, and you freeze as she comes to a stop behind Russell, eyeing all of you with curiosity. You hear Bellamy finish his earlier sentence, “You build us a compound.”

You feel Russell’s eyes shift to you, but your gaze never leaves your twin’s body, trying to convince your brain that it’s not hers anymore, someone else is inside at the controls. “What about the sister, mother, and child? Will they agree?”

Your brain registers his words and you flit your gaze over to him, annoyed by the words he used. “The sister will take care of our people.”

Bellamy reaches out and squeezes your hand before he redirects the conversation, “How long will it take to build?”

Before Russell can answer, Josephine clears her throat, waiting for his attention. He holds up his finger, “Just a moment, sweetheart.”

Your gaze moves back to Josephine, watching her tap impatiently on her arm, waiting for your meeting to finish. But the longer you watch her, the quicker you realize that the tapping on her arm is rhythmic, repeating a small pattern. You flip a page in your small notebook, waiting for the pattern to start again, and then you furiously start to write.

●—

●—●●

●●

●●●—

●

You almost laugh in shock when you realize it’s Morse Code, and you rack your brain trying to remember the translations from the brief moment in time that Clarke learned Morse Code in school, but you struggle to remember. You get pulled from your thoughts by Bellamy putting his hand on your shoulder, and you tug the notebook close to you, hiding it from everyone as you turn to look at him. “What?”

“Russell asked if we agree.”

You barely glance at the man as you answer, “Yeah, we’re agreed.”

“I'll order construction to begin.”

You turn and look between Bellamy and Miller, nodding towards the door, trying to hide your excitement. “Let's go.”

They nod and follow you out, the guards at the door closing them behind you, and you jog down the hall, putting distance between you and any spying eyes. Bellamy pulls you to a stop, sensing the shift in your energy, looking at you in confusion. “What’s going on?”

“Didn't Pike teach you Morse Code?”

Bellamy nods and Miller shrugs, “I slept through most of Earth skills.”

You shake your head at him, and focus your attention on your boyfriend. “I remember Clarke learning it too, but I can’t remember what each symbol means.”

Bellamy shakes his head, still not understanding, and you push the notebook towards him, getting excited. “Josephine was tapping out Morse code on her arm.”

He takes your pen and quickly translates, you and Miller looking over his shoulder as he does.

●— A

●—●● L

●● I

●●●— V

● E

You nearly cry with relief when you read the word, looking up at Bellamy with tears in your eyes. You can see the emotion written across his face, a mix of shock and happiness as he stares back at you, both of you overcome with emotion. Miller looks between the two of you, still not sure he understands. “What does it mean?”

You turn to him, your grin growing even wider. “It means Clarke's alive, and we're gonna get her back.”

next chapter

#the 100 #the 100 rewrite #bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake fanfiction

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tnystrk-exe · 4 years ago

Text

we both know how this song ends 4

Jack Daniels x Reader

Masterpost

Warnings: Suicide and talks of miscarriage

Chapter Four

Being in the house was a struggle. Neither of you ever said anything about that night. You weren’t sure your mother would have believed what had happened. So confronting her wouldn’t be an option. Steve seemed to not remember just how he got the bruise across his face. You attempted to figure out if it was an act or he really was just a gap in his memory. He had gone quiet though, which made you doubt he had forgotten. None of Steve’s unnerving lines were yelled at you in the mornings anymore. A hate filled glance, then he’d leave to do whatever he did for the day.

“Give me your necklace,” your mom demanded, her hand already opened to take it.

“What?” You choked on the piece of toast you had been eating.

“You fucking heard me. Stop acting like you’re a stupid bitch and do what I say.”

You didn’t make a move to take off the locket. It had been yours since the day you were born. Your father had passed it onto you the second he had held you in his arms. A tradition that started with your grandpa. “Why?”

“You’re nothing but a freeloader. I’m going to pawn it to get some extra cash. Hand it over already.”

“No,” you scoffed at the idea of it, “It’s all I have, from dad now. You already took my bracelet.”

She motioned around the apartment. “You have a roof. A room. Clothes. Stop being an entitled brat and give me the chain.” This time she didn’t wait. Instead opting to reach and pull at it instead.

You pushed her hand off. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? I’m not going to let you take it. You’re just to shoot up and drink with that piece of shit you keep around.” Her hand reared back and you managed to catch her wrist before it could land. “I used to think the world of you, you know? I understand you lost someone you loved, but I loved him too.”

She pulled away her hand roughly. “He killed himself because of you.”

“Get a new line,” you sighed, “I’m tired of hearing it already. You sound like a broken record.”

“You’re not his. He found out you weren’t. Then he killed himself. You’re the reason.”

“You’re lying,” you shook your head, laughing. “Nice one.”

She caught you in a stare, the one you knew meant no games were being played, “Didn’t you ever wonder why you’d always have play dates with Cindy? Why do you two kinda look alike? Or how come her dad was wrapped around your finger and got you anything and everything you wanted even when we said no?”

You swallowed thickly, the events not so innocent to you anymore. Sean’s usually cheerful exclaim of not having one but two daughters rang out loudly in your head. The memory of it being a sweet gesture tinted now. The resemblance with your once best friend was no longer able to be shrugged off by coincidence. “It’s not true.”

“It is. If you want to admit it to yourself or not. You’re Sean’s kid. But hey,” she clapped her hands, “It’s better than having a dead dad. Isn’t it?”

“It’s not true,” you held back your tears, not wanting to give your mother the satisfaction, “I know who my dad is and as much as I hate it, he’s gone. You can say Sean is my biological father all you want but he isn’t my dad.”

She rolled her eyes, “Isn't that sweet. Guess you’ll always take his side, Killer.”

“I didn’t kill him! That’s on your hands! Did I ask to be born? Did I tell you to jump in bed with Sean when you had someone that loved you more than anyone in the world at home? I’m not going to take the blame for your guilt.”

“Get out of my house and get me some money. I don’t care what you do to get it, sell yourself for all I care.”

You shook your head, disgusted but not surprised anymore. Wordlessly, you just left. All you needed was to be alone. Some time to process this new information. Grabbing your bike, you got on and started pedaling.

“Dad!” You yelled, “I’m home.”

“Kitchen!” He responded, “Just had to pick up real quick. Ready for your driving lesson?”

You grabbed an apple from the bowl, taking a seat on the counter as you watched him clean. “Ugh, you don’t believe how ready I am. I’m so tired of that bike.”

“Hey, that old thing has served you well. Don’t bash it. How was school?”

“Same old. Cindy has been pissed with me lately, no clue why. I think it’s because I talked to a guy she liked, but I swear it was just a couple of jokes.”

“That age is rough, Squirt. People get set off over the smallest things,” he shrugged it off, “Give her a couple of days, she’ll come back around.”

“I hope so, this whole thing is getting annoying,” you complained, “He isn’t even my type.”

“And who have you been seeing to make you know you have a type?” He asked, raising a brow.

You laughed around a bite of apple, “I’m just saying! I mean, how did you know mom was your type? You just knew right? It’s supposed to just click into place right?”

He rolled his eyes, “Nice diversion. It’s not that easy. Your mom seemed pretty ready for a relationship, but I had come out a really rough one when I met her. Things don’t just click, you know, things take time and you nurture it. You work with someone and you hope it’s all worth it in the end.”

“What happened in your last relationship?”

“A lot of lying and running around,” he admitted, “I didn’t want to see it, but it was clear.”

“Oh… I’m sorry dad, that sounds…”

“Don’t sweat it,” he patted your shoulder, “If it hadn’t happened then I wouldn’t have you around Squirt. A little struggle was worth it.”

You grinned, he had to work away from home often, but you always loved these little moments with him. Learning things about his past was always nice. “Come on you old sap, teach me how to drive so I can stop bugging you for rides.”

“Grab the keys. I can’t wait for you to sneak out in the middle of the night and steal my car.”

“It’s not teenage rebellion if you encourage me,” you complained, tossing the apple in the trash.

“I’m sorry, your highness. I’ll ground you for the rest of your life. You won’t even know what a car looks like.”

“Thank you. That’s much better.”

Making your way to the front yard. Sean flagged your dad down, trying to grab his attention. “What do you need Sean?”

“I need to talk to you,” he looked at you, “Privately. It’s, um, a family matter and I need some advice.”

“Can it wait? I promised the kid I’d teach her how to drive. We’ll take an hour at most.”

“Okay, fine, but see me first thing.” Sean walked away, your dad waited until he was out of earshot. “See? Her problem probably isn’t even with you. Sean and Cassandra are probably fighting.”

“Huh? You think? I hope it settles down soon then,” you trusted his view on the situation. “You ready?” You jingled the keys at him.

“Give me a second,” he crossed himself jokingly, “Now I am.”

“Please!” You laughed, “I can’t be that bad!”

“We can only hope.”

It was a nice time. The open windows let the air flow through, music playing loudly as you concentrated on your first drive. Despite his underlying panic, your dad managed to instruct you calmly. He wouldn’t say you were a natural, but a bit more practice and he’d be ready to lie through his teeth for you. “I’m not ready for the freeway,” he shook his head, “We're sticking to neighborhood streets for a while.”

“Aw! Dad! I got it!”

“Give me two more practice runs. Then I’ll let you try it.”

“Fine,” you parked the car in the driveway, “Two more only. I gotta learn sometime you know.”

“Yeah, kid, I know,” he looked across the street, at Sean who was waiting on his porch, “Can you make some spaghetti for dinner? Your mom should be coming home soon and I’m not sure if Sean will be done by then.”

You nodded, “I got it, dad. Any special request?”

“We do have a box of brownies…” he shrugged, “If you wouldn’t mind?”

“Okay. I’ll see you in a minute, old man.”

You hung up the keys and got to your task in the kitchen. It wasn’t long until your mom came home. The smell of brownies and the radio playing greeted her. “How was the drive around town?”

You grabbed a stack of plates and started serving. “I think I did well. Though I think dad would beg to differ.”

“What do you mean?”

“No freeways until I get some more time in,” you blew out some air, “I can handle it.”

“Sometimes you just gotta test the waters before you jump in,” she patted your shoulders, “There wouldn’t be any harm in you learning a little more.”

“If it was up to you, I’d never get to drive,” you said, sticking your tongue out at her, “Too afraid something is gonna happen to me.”

“Well, you’re my only baby. I couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to you.”

“Nothings going to happen to me. I’m invincible,” you grabbed the plates to take them to the table, “Mind getting drinks?”

She grabbed three cans of Coke, “You’re not invincible. You’re just young.”

“Mom, I can promise you, nothing’s happening to me anytime soon.”

“Where’s your father? In the garage?”

“Nope! Sean needed his advice with some family stuff,” you shrugged, “Didn’t want to talk about it in front of me.”

“...Oh.”

The front door slammed breaking your thoughts away from your mom’s strange tone. “You good dad?”

“Y-“ he coughed, “Yeah. Just… give me a second to freshen up a bit. I’ll be right there.”

“He sounds weird.” You moved to go check on him, your mother blocking you from doing so.

“I’ll check on him.”

You watched her walk down the hall. A bit worried, but you supposed she’d be able to handle the situation. She knew your dad better than anyone. Besides, you doubted he’d actually talk to you about what had gotten him emotional. Though you weren’t a child anymore they seemed to refuse the thought.

It took about fifteen minutes for them to come to the dining room. Your father looked distraught, but you weren’t sure if you were willing to push him to ask. Whatever was happening in Cindy’s home must have been major. The quiet while you all ate was deafening. Forks scraping against plates was all that could be heard.

Finally, it started to feel too strange for you to handle. “I think I’m going to go finish up my essay. It’s due tomorrow and I haven’t really been on top of it,” you excused yourself from the table. Quickly you dropped off your dish in the sink and left to your room. Some thirty minutes later, your dad walked into the room. You looked up at him expectantly, setting your notebook to the side. “‘Sup dad?”

He sat down beside you, handing you a bowl. A slice of brownie and a scoop of vanilla ice cream in it. “You thought I’d let you miss out on dessert?”

You smiled at him, “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, kiddo.” He pressed a kiss to the side of your head. He grabbed your notebook reading through your essay as you ate. “You’re getting pretty good at this. Coulda sworn some big wig wrote this.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “I can do better. I’m just being lazy.”

“Lazy or not. It’s good. Keep it up.”

“Are you okay, dad? You seemed a bit off during dinner.”

“Yeah. Yeah,” he tugged on your necklace gently, “You know how I can get around this time of the year. I just wish you could have met him.”

“Oh… It is around that time. Sorry about grandpa, dad, but from what you tell me he was great.”

“He was pretty alright.”

“Well, I think you’re pretty great. I can’t wait to pass it on. Imagine seeing you as a grandpa. You’re already a pushover now.”

“No. You can stand to wait. Give that thing at least until you graduate college. We don’t need any ankle biters around anytime soon.” He moved a lock of your hair behind your ear, “You know I love you more than anything in this world, right?”

“‘Course I do. I love you too, old man.”

“I should get to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“‘Night, dad.”

It was a simple rinse and repeat kinda day. Nothing spectacular happened. School was school. Cindy was still pissed. You stayed for a couple clubs and rode your bike home business as usual.

“Dad!” You called out, “I’m home!” Hearing the car droning in the garage. Setting your bag on the floor you went to check on what he was working on.

Opening the door to the garage, you saw him just sitting in the car. “Dad?” You walked to the driver’s side. Everything clicked in that moment. A picture of you was held limply in his hand. A stray bottle of sleeping pills on the passenger seat. You tried to open the car door, but he had locked them. “Dad!” You knocked desperately on the glass, “Dad!”

You didn’t know what else to do. You ran out of the house as fast as you could, straight on to Cindy’s porch. “Sean! Sean! I need your help!”

“What? What’s wrong?” He asked quickly, seeing the panic written all over your face.

“M-my dad. I think… he’s in the garage. The car was on and I think he took some sleeping pills and I can’t get him out because the doors are locked,” you word vomited, still trying to process it all. “You need to help him!”

“Rachel, call the cops! You stay here kid, okay? I’ll go check it out.”

Your head kept on replaying those couple of hours again and again. Seeing your dad being rolled away had been imprinted on your memory. You let your bike fall onto the sidewalk and took a seat on the bench. Covering your face, you let out a groan into your hands.

“It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t,” you said quietly, trying to convince yourself.

It wasn’t, you knew that, but the guilt was there. Your father had made an irreversible choice and you had to figure out how to live past it. Still, maybe there was something you could have done. Pushed to make him talk. Missed class that day with a lame excuse. Gotten home early instead of going to a club you hadn’t even enjoyed. Anything could have saved him. You could have convinced him to stay.

A hand on your shoulder made you jump. “Bug?”

You relaxed slightly, wiping the tears from your eyes, hoping they weren’t too red. “Hey, Mr. Daniels,” you greeted, giving him a small smile.

He was dressed in work clothes. The outfit stained with oil that would never wash out. “Are you okay? It wasn’t my boy was it?”

“No, we haven’t seen each other all day,” you sniffed, “I’ve been home all day… Jack’s been really great. You don’t have to worry about that.”

Mr. Daniels nodded, taking a seat beside you. “You should know I’m not amazing at this, it’s more Mare’s kinda thing, but I can lend you an ear. What’s wrong, Bug?”

You wrapped your arms around yourself protectively. “I dunno,” you shrugged, “Got to thinking about my dad. I guess it overwhelmed me some. Mom said something today and it just tipped all that over.”

“It hasn’t been long, right?” He sucked his teeth, “I can tell you, it’s hardest the first year, but it gets easier.”

“I can’t help but think I should have done more…”

“If you don’t mind… how did your dad pass?”

“Monoxide poisoning. He, um, took a bunch of sleeping pills and locked himself up in the car,” you stated, deciding to opt out of the newly learned information. “I just wish I had gone straight home. I could have… don’t know.”

“Oh Bug, I’m sorry. You can’t blame yourself for that.”

“I don’t. I just wish I could have done more.”

He frowned, “That’s too much to put on your shoulders, kid. Thinking about things like that is bad for you. Don’t put yourself through the wringer with a bunch of different scenarios. It makes the hurt worse.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“What you can do now is live a good long life. I know having a kid like you, he’d want nothing more than for you to be happy. Maybe you could talk to your mom about this?”

You shook your head. “We haven’t been good since the day it happened. I think she’s counting the days until I leave now,” you said, admitting more than you wanted to.

“Why would you think that?” He looked at you, brows furrowed.

“I guess, I’m just a reminder of the past,” a guilty conscious more like it, “Maybe it’s just better off if I find myself a job and leave after graduating.”

Mr. Daniels perked up at that. “You’re still looking for a job? I could help you out there at the very least,” he offered.

“Are you sure I’m qualified?”

“We just need a secretary. The shop is in shambles when it comes to organization. You’d expect us to run it better, but honestly most of the time our wives need to step in and help out. Maybe you can help us start a call ahead program, keep track of things, and go on quick runs for us.”

“I could help out,” you nodded, “When do you need me around?”

He stood gesturing for you to follow him, grabbing his bag. “You seem to have some time now. I can show you around the shop today and the things we’d need you to do. Throw your bike in the back.”

You did as he said before getting in the truck. “Thanks for the job, Mr. Daniels.”

“Don’t sweat it, Bug. In all honesty, you’d be helping us more than we’re helping you.” He started up the truck. “I’m thinking three hours after school and a hundred a week. Does that sound okay with you?”

“That sounds great.”

“You can have this Friday off, of course. Jack’s gnawing my ear off talking about his nerves over that dance. I’m sorry, by the way, that kid can’t dance to save his life but I’m pretty sure I caught him practicing.”

You laughed at the idea. Jack was absolutely too sweet for you. “I guess we’ll have to make do. I’m not sure I can do any better.”

“Trust me, you can. Oh and none of this Mr. Daniels stuff. Hanging out with you is gonna make me feel old enough we don’t need that to pile on too.”

“Whatever you say, Boss Man,” he made a face at that, “Fine, a work in progress Picky.”

The shop wasn’t too far from where you had been. Mr. Daniels said he needed some part they didn’t have in stock so he went to the store. Lucky for you. He was keeping your mind busy from the horrible morning as he showed you around the shop. His desk could be yours while you were there after school and you were welcome to do whatever made you comfortable.”

“Derek isn’t here today, but he’s the other owner. Those three are Larry, Moe, and Curly,” he pointed at the men working on cars. “They’re basically my other boys.”

The three were a bit older than you and Jack but far younger than Mr. Daniels. “Pops!” One of them called out, “This one’s ready for a test drive.”

“Okay, Slugger. Go take your break. You’re up to bat, Bug. Get the keys in our office and take that car out on a test drive,” he instructed.

“Ah, Buddy Pal, I’m afraid I’m already gotta disappoint you. Don’t know how to drive.”

“That’s not gonna work,” he shook his head, “Hey, Scout, toss me the keys. Bug get in the driver’s side.”

Slugger looked at you curiously, “What brings you around here, angel?”

“Needed some work.”

He nodded, “That’s good. That’s good. Got any plans this weekend?”

“Yeah. I do actually.”

“Shame,” he gave you a smile that probably would have flustered you before, but now you knew sweeter, “Anyone special?”

“I’d say he’s special.”

“C’mon sweetheart, ditch the kid. Come out with me. What do they know?”

You laughed, “I don’t know, Jack and I are pretty set on this date.”

“Jack?” He asked his eyes wide, “Our Jackie Boy? What game does he have? ...Hey, um, can we forget about that? Didn’t mean any disrespect.”

“Water under the bridge,” you let it go, “Nice to meet you, but I should probably…”

“Yeah, sorry again.” He started walking away, “Can’t believe I hit on Jack’s girl,” you heard him mumble to himself ashamed.

Mr. Daniels thwacked him on the back of the head as they passed. “That’s for not stopping at giving her the keys, dummy.”

“Yeah, Pops, I know.”

“Get in, Bug.” Mr. Daniels got in the car. “Okay, so what do you know?”

“A decent amount. I’ve only gone on one drive with my dad. I scared him a fair bit honestly.”

“Don’t worry about that, Bug. After Jack I have nerves of steel. He drove us into a ditch his first time. Just take it easy. We’ll help you out and when you get decent we’ll take you to get your driver’s license. Already making yourself more useful as you go.”

Mr. Daniels didn’t instruct you much. He let you go at your own pace to get used to it. However, he was telling you things to pay attention for to correctly test out the car. It was the little things that you had to pay attention to the most.

“Okay, so the car is perfect,” he informed you, “The brakes could be better if anything else, but they could probably get away using them a while longer if they don’t want to change them now. Take us back to the garage. Next time we get a bad one, I’ll let you drive it. The only way you’ll know what to look for.”

“Sounds good,” you nodded, already making a U turn to retrace your steps. “Thanks for this by the way, I wasn't sure I’d get to learn anytime soon.”

“Well, Bug, I’m here for you anything you need, but… y’know, if you wanna say thanks sometime, I still haven’t gotten that berry cobbler.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Got it, dad.” It took you a second to realize what you had said. “Oh, sorry.”

He put a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry kid, I don’t mind it. Got used to pops and dad a while ago between the Stooges and Jack. Besides, I understand you’ve been thinking about your dad. It’s okay.”

“How come the Stooges call you pops?” You asked, deciding to sidestep the awkward conversation.

“It took a long time for Mare and I to have Jack. We had been trying since we had gotten married. I was 25 and she was 21. She got pregnant four times before but those never got to stay with us and we had given up. So, to get a feel of being important to some kids, she started helping out at the elementary school and I coached little league and helped with the local scouts. We gained ourselves a couple kids that have been trailing after us like little ducklings since then. Jack was just a bonus we weren’t expecting when we were in our 40s.”

“Was it scary? Having Jack I mean.”

“The first six months were,” he acknowledged, “that was the farthest our third try made it. Once Jack cleared that it just felt like a constant miracle happening.”

“I’m glad, he did.”

“So am I. I’m not sure Maria could have handled another loss like that.” The car rolled to a stop in front of the shop. Jack’s truck parked across the street, the familiar vehicles bringing a smile to your face instantly. “You two really are some lovesick pups.” He shook his head, “I don’t think Mare and I were so infatuated.”

“Nah, buddy pal,” you denied him, “I’ve seen you together. Y’all are the lovesick ones.”

“Yeah, yeah, go do your job. Call the owner and tell them the car is ready to get picked up.”

You nodded and took a quick look to check what type of car it was. You walked straight to the office, seeing Jack looking into a motor and spitballing the problems that there may be with it. Flipping through a notebook, you found the owner and started dialing the number.

“Hello? ...I’m calling from Tovar and Daniels Repairs,” you startled slightly when arms wrapped around you, but you quickly relaxed into them when Jack pressed a kiss to your temple. “Your car is ready for pick up at your earliest convenience…” You elbowed Jack softly when you felt him bite at your neck. “Well, we advise you to change your brakes, but it’s not an immediate issue. ...Change them? Okay. I’ll get one of the guys to work on it right now.” The line cut off and you hung up the phone, “Do you mind?”

Jack took a break from your neck to press a kiss to your cheek. “Couldn’t help it. You looked cute talkin’ business. Heard you got yourself a gig here.”

“Yeah, your dad asked me to be the secretary and he wants me to be the test driver too, but he has to teach me how to drive first.”

He swayed the two of you lazily, “I’m glad for you, baby. I know you’ve been wanting a job.”

“How come you don’t work here?” You wondered.

“Didn’t wanna take a job away from the guys. Also didn’t like the idea of getting a position just because I was the owner's kid,” he said, talking against your neck, “Though, when I think about it, they’re not any better. I like outside work better anyhow.” Jack pressed a couple more kisses to your neck, earning himself a moan. “Sugar, that was a little too loud,” he scolded, his proud smirk couldn’t be kept at bay.

You laughed, turning around to face him. “I can’t believe you’re gonna get me fired during my orientation.” Pulling him close, you gave him a proper kiss.

Recently the kisses had started getting more eager. As Jack pulled you flush against himself, you couldn’t find any reasons to complain. His hands found some purchase under your shirt as yours tugged at his hair. Jack quickly sat you on the desk, his lips never leaving yours.

“Go Jackie!” You heard three loud whoops at the door. “That’s our boy!”

Jack groaned when you pulled away and hid your face against his neck in embarrassment. He raised his hand to flip them off.

“Jack! Stop kissing my workers on company time!”

Next Chapter

wbkhtse tag: @carringtonhill @dizzydazed

#agent whiskey #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey x reader #reader insert #kingsman #pedro pascal x reader

38 notes · View notes

kachulein · 4 years ago

Note

It's just Felix's voice is on another lvl and everytime his part comes in a song it's like "I knew it was gonna happen but I still feel attacked thank you" and ya I'd love to get some help in knowing who they are like, I recognize them most of the time but a guide to who's who wouldnt hurt mostly abt their personalities you know?

Oof I feel you so much with this. In the new album 아니 (Any) is my favourite song and I especially like Felix's part. His voice isn't as deep there but god, the tone of his voice is just so pretty?? It had me hooked from the start.🥺

And I'm really sorry for only answering this ask now, granted, I have to admit I felt very grumpy after tumblr deleted the whole guide I was working on but I finally finished the new, and definitely better/more organized one, so I hope this will be of help and that you'll enjoy reading through it~

A Guide to Stray Kids' Personalities

I'll put this under a cut as it got extremely long. :3

Bang Chan:

Chan is literally the biggest sweetheart and I keep referring to him as 'emotional support kpop boy'

he is so kind and caring - I mean he even hosts a weekly vlive broadcast to help stays fall asleep, he really cares about us/our problems and truly wants to help us feel better with his music and his words

truly does not have one bad bone in his body- he's super sweet and caring but when it comes down to business -music- he gets strict, maybe a little cold? but that's just because he wants everyone to do their best

he used to be (too) strict with Felix in the past but that was because he had a special bond with him/he liked him so much, so I assume he's the type of person who wants to see his loved ones succeed and do their best and so he might end up being a little too strict to them since he wants them to improve

he used to get more angry at the members when something didn't work out in the past but nowadays, he rarely loses his temper and he tries to stay away from them when he's really angry - he doesn't want to hurt anyone's feelings

he actually really likes acting cute!! he used to be the youngest member at jype and he used to hang out with older peers, so he got a habit of acting cute and giving hugs to others and now he does it to the members, haha so precious

he gets super shy and flustered when he's being complimented - he starts giggling and looking down, it's literally the most precious and he deserves to know how amazing he is because he truly is so humble

his humble self is what makes him a great leader as well since he's never greedy or selfish and always puts the members before himself - the members are his top priority and he definitely sacrifices some things for the team

but he also said he can't talk about himself well or he gets nervous when he's got a schedule by himself (like when he recorded his dance cover of 2pm's my house), so he really seems like someone who gains strength and confidence from having his team around him

he's very selfless and very supportive and encouraging but he can also be very funny and teasing

he's very genuine, sincere and nice and he's got an extremely strong sense of responsibility (vvv good trait for a leader ofc), he may seem a bit scary at first/in the past but the more you learn about him the more amazing you will find him and the more you will fall in love with him tbh

in general he's honestly top notch boyfriend material and also just a very wholesome and high quality human being

he also likes to lead and set the mood, he enjoys entertaining others and making them feel satisfied - he hopes that everyone can be happy, he wants to make people happy and then he will be happy, too

and ofc we can't forget how talented he is, music production/composition, making arrangements, writing lyrics, translating lyrics, speaking multiple languages, beautiful singing voice, amazing dancer (he's actually done ballet in the past), and also a great rapper

like tbh, what can't he do??? but believe me when I say, we're going to be asking ourselves this question quite a few times in this post

Minho:

Minho is the definition of a tsundere personality - even the members said so - at first glance you may notice that he can be quite savage and funny and maybe there's even a chance that he seems cold to some-

however, he's truly a sweet person and has a very warm heart and he selflessly cares about others without trying to make a big deal out of it - like, he'd never boast about helping others or doing someone a favour, he's the type to quietly take care of others

he doesn't like admitting to it but he truly cares a lot despite acting nonchalant most of the time - like one time Changbin asked him to get him something,,, and he shrugged it off as "nah dude, I'm not getting this for you" but he kept searching for it for 30 minutes when he couldn't find it - so that really shows it all (Changbin that dork asked Hyunjin to get it for him and then when Minho finally came back and said he couldn't find it, Changbin was like "oh shit sorry, I already asked Hyunjin to bring it to me." 🤦🏻‍♀️ #justiceforminho)

anyway, I don't want people to view him as just a pretty face who's an amazing dancer and a savage guy because he's soooooo much more than that, like there's a lot more to him below the surface -

DID YOU KNOW HE MAKES THREADED BRACELETS IN HIS FREE TIME??? THAT'S THE ABSOLUTE SOFTEST THING EVER BUT ALSO WHAT CAN'T HE DO??? SO MUCH TALENT IN ONE PERSON- (he wore one in his recent solo live and he said he made 7 in total and gave some to others, I wonder if some of the other members got one since I saw Hyunjin wearing a bracelet like that-)

he's a cat person which I love but he also resembles a cat so much?? a true kitty boy- he's very independent and self-reliant, he used to live by himself (I read that once), so he knows how to get around

he also enjoys things such as the smell of gasoline/gas stations or the smell of new buildings or even the smell of cat paws??? it's really odd but also really funny and his reason for it is that smells leave behind memories and I think that makes so much sense then-

he cares a lot about the wellbeing of animals and people and he even sponsors a child in Africa through UNICEF - my heart melted when I found out about that, he also can be seen wearing safety pins on multiple occasions and that just makes me feel like you'd be very safe with him

he can be a bit of an enigma though, even the members think he's "weird"/hard to understand as even they don't fully get him but I think that's his charm! he's not like everybody and he doesn't shy away from being himself

also, he never makes the younger members do stuff for him, on the dance team(s?) he was on predebut, he always used to be one of the youngest members so he said he never learned how to treat people younger than him (he's also an only child), so he's just comfortable with the younger skz members and I feel like they really appreciate it since it makes them feel as if they're all the same age

he also reads a lot and he's said that he reads many self-help books so that he can gain knowledge and help stays out there/convey the message of these books to them

with Minho it's really about the little things, he doesn't make grand gestures and that's why I think some people may overlook his kind and caring nature but if you really look closely, you can see it and it'll warm your heart

He's also very diligent and hardworking, albeit he seems to be someone who gets bored here and there ("I work out to kill time") he really has his goals and ambitions and he works hard for them.

His dancing is freaking amazing (@ jype pls he is a main dancer why is he rarely in center spot????) and his vocals and rapping have improved tremendously! He's got such a beautiful and angelic falsetto tbh you will fall in love with it-

So all in all, you can totally appreciate him for his wit and his savage comments but honestly, his kind and caring heart is what really made him my bias wrecker. I truly believe that he's a very caring and protective person and I find that so beautiful.

Changbin:

Changbinnie oh god, I have so much love for him and I can relate to him a lot. First of all, he always makes sure to be a good listener, so others tend to go to him with their concerns and he tries to take everything in that they say and then give them comfort

he cares a lot about other people's feelings and he puts a lot of importance on his relationships with other people - he wants others to feel comfortable around him and he is very thankful that the younger members also feel comfortable around him

he's a very honest person and doesn't pretend or fake anything, however, if his truth/his feelings would hurt someone else's feelings, he's not going to be honest. That doesn't mean that he's going to lie but he just cares a lot about not hurting other's feelings.

he said even if someone else's feelings are just a little bit hurt, it drives him crazy and he also said that he might be like that since he's sensitive and gets hurts by others easily (this is all so relatable😭)

anyway, Changbin is known for liking to joke around and also is one of the member who get teased by the others a lot, but fear not, he said that he actually enjoys when others tease him because that means they're comfortable with him and that makes him happy

how precious is that omg-

he makes jokes a lot but he is serious when he needs to be, he tends to be more fun around others/with others but is more serious when he's on his own, that's why he actually prefers to be around friends since it helps him forget about his own concerns

I guess he'd be an overthinker and to stop himself from overthinking he spends time playing around with the other members but in a way, I also feel a bit worried since he doesn't open up a lot and I hope he doesn't bottle up his feelings too much since I know how difficult that can be :c

on another note, Changbin is very focused on his health, he apparently works out every morning even when he's tired, he also cares about healthy nutrition and he takes supplements so that he can be healthier

apart from wanting others to feel comfortable around him, he also wants to be seen as a reliable person and it feels good to him when he can help someone/give them comfort

he's truly such a sweetheart and despite seeming so confident, I always feel like he might harbour a lot of insecurities underneath - but that's just my personal opinion, so take that with a grain of salt

the members also said he's the scariest when he gets mad but the sweet thing is that he always apologises to everyone after getting mad

even if he didn't get mad at everyone, he still apologises to them all, and it just shows what a good heart he's got-

and pls can we also talk about how talented he is as a producer, composer, lyricist, main rapper, and vocalist?? His voice is so beautiful and I hope he gets more confident in it and tbh he's also a really good dancer, so I hope he can get praised for his dancing more often as well (before he became a rapper he actually tried out dancing first)

so in conclusion WHAT CAN'T HE DO AND CHANGBIN BEST BOI GIVE HIM LOTS OF LOVE

Hyunjin:

"sexy boy" Hyunjinnie here is actually so much more than just a pretty face with great body proportions and amazing and sexy dance moves/skills

Hyunjin is the biggest soft boy, he's truly a sentimentalist - he gets hurt easily, Seungmin compared him to a snowflake that breaks when it touches the ground

he first thought of himself as mentally strong since that's what helps him overcome all the difficulties but later on (in that video) he felt like he was more mentally weak

he cares a lot about other people's opinion of him and it's really hard for him to ignore hate comments, he gets really sensitive about those (pls for the love of god, what a**holes are sending this precious angel hate?!?!?!?! I WANNA FITE (ง'̀-'́)ง)

with that being said, he's a very emotional boy, he tries to control his emotions or hold them in but he gets influenced by them quite often

he's also very honest with his feelings, so when he expresses them and when he breaks down, they all just burst out of him and he ends up spilling everything he's held in for a while

he doesn't really express his emotions skillfully (don't @ me, Changbin said that) so that can make you feel a bit sorry for him or it can make you feel like you want to take care of him because he's so innocent, naive and trusts easily

like really, he is, he almost got abducted by a cult once- SOMEONE PROTECT HIM PLS-

he also gets immersed in things very easily and boi do I feel him on this one; especially when he watches dramas, he gets so immersed and feels like he's living through the drama as if it happened to himself, he puts himself in the shoes of the male/female main character and the storyline just affects him so much that he often ends up crying (same same😭)

it also happens when he reads webtoons or so, he's also a huge fan of reading - ever since an acquaintance recommended him some books when he was going through a hard time and those books comforted him in a way that words never could - that was the start of his interest in reading

from the outside, we also know him as a bit of a drama queen which actually makes for so many hilarious moments - this impulsive/emotional side of him is just so authentic and he said that there's no side of him that he hasn't shown to stays

he can also be quite critical tbh and he's got his own standards for his likes and dislikes, so when something doesn't meet his standards he breaks down akdksksoals but when there's something he doesn't want to do or thinks doesn't serve him, he's got no problem cutting it off

despite that, he can actually get swayed by other people quite easily (hence, him being trusting and naive), when others make suggestions, he often agrees to them but that doesn't mean that he doesn't have his own opinions whatsoever, because he does have those as well

it's just easy to sway/persuade him, even when it comes to things like shopping - he rarely goes shopping tbh, despite dressing so well - but when he does, then he'll go get the things he finds pretty but when someone points something out and says "that's pretty" he'll buy it (so in conclusion, I really wanna go shopping with him now)

so yeah, Hyunjin is amazing and he's so compassionate and emotional and empathetic and I love him so much wtf and he's so hardworking and talented and his dancing is so amazing and his rapping has become so damn good, like his voice is loud and stable like good job baby🥺, I'm so proud of you🥺, and his singing voice is so soft and lovely, and he's also great at taking pictures- and aaaah seriously what can't he do??? he is a full package imo and you cannot escape his charms even if you try-

Jisung:

okay so Jisungie is seriously such a precious and shy bean and you don't really see this at first glance because he's so sociable, outgoing and cheerful when he's with the members

but that's the thing: he's close to them and they make him feel comfortable and confident, so he feels at ease and can show a more talkative side of himself - he's even the one who usually leads the conversation

he's extremely funny, has a lot of wit, is great at doing acrostic poems and in general, he's just such a creative person with many amazing ideas - some may call him a genius😌

but coming back to that shy side of his; he's actually a very introverted person; he doesn't like to leave the house and and hates moving in general - Jisung in bed is Jisung in his natural habitat tbh

on days off he prefers to stay indoors, lay in bed, and just watch youtube videos or tv shows or something - he doesn't like to go out or do outdoor activities and his eyes are always glued to the phone (relatable)

even when he's eating with the members he's having his earbuds in and watches something on his phone and then he gets really creative and uses all kinds of things to mount his phone (again, so relatable hhhh)

his routine is something like watching youtube videos/cartoons etc., falling asleep, waking up, spacing out and then repeating the whole process-

he sleeps really well and he can actually fall asleep in the weirdest places, it really shows how he can fall asleep everywhere but maybe he also seeks special hideouts to nap because he doesn't like being woken up and if the members can't see/find him, they also can't wake him... you get it hahaha~

Chan thought that maybe Jisung watches all these things on his phone as a way to escape reality and to relieve stress but Jisung also said that he gets a lot of inspiration from cartoons and videos to write lyrics - due to watching all these videos he actually harbours a lot of random trivia knowledge, which fits the genius description~

however, despite this outgoing side when he's with his close friends, he actually gets scared easily, may it be heights or dark places or meeting new people - protect him omg - especially with strangers he's extremely shy -> the introvert showing

he actually doesn't talk at all when he has to meet new people, he gets very nervous and awkward and scared - when they're at music shows and there's a lot of people around, he gets very nervous - he said he's never been good at making friends and he only keeps a few close friends

when he gets close to people, however, he becomes extremely talkative with no limit, he's also very affectionate and warm-hearted, his sentimental, soft and dreamy side really coming through

so basically, he's very cheerful on the outside but thoughtful on the inside - he's actually very mature despite the goofy and silly/playful side he usually shows us -> Changbin once said that Jisung feels like an older brother to him because of how mature he is, he really is a deep thinker and I guess that's also a reason why he's so amazing at writing songs

Jisung also got something we're all envious of; he can eat lots of unhealthy things without gaining weight - he loves sweet things (but also chips) and he frequently eats late night snacks and luckily for him, his face rarely puffs up despite those late night snacks, there's only been a few occasions during which that happened (and I think I got a picture of one of these instances hahahaha he really looks different with a puffy face, so cute!!!🥺😂)

he's also just such an adorable person and it's so soft and cute and fun to watch him get excited and he absolutely loves to receive praise and he's just such a baby boy tbh :(( jisung protection squad where ya at?? and well, of course, we can't end this without talking about his endless list of talents like WHAT CAN'T THIS MAN DO??? producing songs, composing, writing lyrics, amazing rapping, amazing vocals, amazing dancing, drawing, voice imitations - he's seriously one of the most talented all-rounder out there and god I love him so much and you seriously can't escape his squirrel/quokka charms🥺

Felix:

if you need a definition or a personification of the word pure, it would be Felix, like seriously, this boy is so soft and precious we need to protect him at all costs

he's literally so nice, so sweet, so kind and so creative - he's often referred to as the "romanticist" in stray kids and yeah that really fits because you know what? he once surprised Seungmin for his birthday in the cutest way. He called him on his birthday and asked him for help (as an excuse) and when Seungmin came down, Felix was there with a birthday cake with Seungmin's nickname on it - he basically organized this little surprise and Seungmin tried so hard not to cry🥺🥺🥺

Felix is so considerate and cares a lot about the other members, he's usually more of a quiet person but when he feels comfortable around someone, he can get really talkative

but him not talking doesn't mean there's nothing going on inside of him - he's literally got so many thoughts running around in his mind and he's truly an overthinker - he talks to himself in his mind a lot

he also loves playing games and he can seriously go on playing until 6am, the members said that he is very good at concentrating (for example when he studies Korean) but especially also when he's playing games

Felix said that playing games is something that helps him relieve stress or it's what he does when he's tired - playing games is a distraction for him, so he can avoid thinking of whatever's troubling him

however, recently he wants to focus more on his concerns and worries, he thinks it's not something he should avoid, so now he tries to focus on these worries and talk about them/express them more since he thinks it's important to do so

something that's really cute about him but also worrisome is that he gets sleepy easily, especially after eating, so whenever they got dance practice, he tends not to eat in order to avoid getting sleepy :(

protect him pls and pls lixie don't avoid eating~ especially when having dance practice you need your energy and it's not good to have an empty stomach and fill it with coffee and sweet beverages instead of food :(

anyway, Felix is winsome and cute and an absolute cuddle buddy, he says he doesn't really know what it means to act cute but I suppose he's just naturally cute and adorable- I MEAN C'MON-

whenever Felix talks about serious matters, it's like he needs some sort of comfort afterwards so he requires a lot of cuddles (but the members said that after a while it gets too hot (I guess because of his body heat??) so it can be hard for them to cuddle him for long periods of time :'))

Felix is also known as our sunshine, he always wants to give a positive and happy impression to others/us stays even when he might be dealing with negative thoughts, it's too precious but I hope he also takes care of himself

but trying to be optimistic and think positively instead of letting the negative thoughts consume you is already a good start and I feel like Chan also helped him a lot with this, Chanlix best soulmates ever

Felix has high expectations (it seems) and he always wants to do better and do well, he's working hard on improving himself and it really shows!!

his singing voice improved so much (as well as his rapping!! and I mean H I S V O I C E in general oof😭🥺) and his dancing is freaking amazing!! I hope he can become confident in himself because he deserves to be happy with the person he is since he's such a huge inspiration to so many of us!! SERIOUSLY WHAT CAN'T HE DO?? he shows us that we can achieve anything with practice and hard work and that's so inspiring PLS EVERYONE LOVE OUR FELIX SUNSHINE

Seungmin:

I think the first words that come to mind when thinking of Seungmin is how diligent and clean/organized he is. He was one of the only (if not THE only) trainee who never missed a day of writing his trainee logs

he's not just diligent but extremely hardworking overall and he describes himself as serious and a bit funny - he's got very strong willpower tbh

he may also be known for teasing the members, especially Jeongin, or for nagging when someone (looking at you, Jisung) leaves behind a mess at the dorm but he is truly a sweetheart and he doesn't mean any harm

and in turn, he's also one of the members who gets teased the most- when that happens he becomes upset but he recovers very quickly as he often thinks it's not worth getting mad over

like honestly, he is a puppy, he can't do no harm :< but yeah, Seungmin is actually extremely soft, emotional, empathetic and supportive!! I've been keeping an eye on him recently and whenever something happens to a member (on a variety show - for example when one member shows off something and embarrasses himself or so), he's always there to give them a hug, comforting them

he also always tries to cheer other members up when they feel down, then he may act silly or he does/say something that's supportive because he truly cares about the members and doesn't like seeing them in pain

he's also someone who cries very easily, showing how he's truly an emotional baby but don't be phased, he's actually very emotionally strong and it's something very admirable about him

he has God sent vocals, his dancing is amazing and omg have you heard rapper!Seungmin?? Tbh I dig it!! He strictly takes care of his voice since his vocals and recording songs is very important to him - he dresses warmly when it's cold, always wears a mask and tries not to get sick

he's also very good at taking photos and he always brings his camera to official schedules and takes photos of the members. SEUNGMIN BEST STRAY KIDS FANSITE!!!!!

if you ever hear a weird noise, especially something sounding like "GAAAH" or "DA", it's probably Seungmin. He's truly a puppy, he's so cute and adorable, I feel like he's the type of person you can't get mad at

he also manages himself well, from getting up early, to cooking food for himself if there's none, to taking care of his body and health - it's really admirable and he also practices his singing so diligently and it just s h o w s- he's so good

also, he actually wanted to become a baseball player when he was a kid and we're still waiting for him to show us how he plays-

but also!!! he is a very smart and logical person (he wanted to be a prosecutor if he wasn't in stray kids) so he's got both the logical and also the very loving, empathetic side since he's also very considerate of the members - he seems to be a really good listener to them, this is just a personal observation from watching two kids room episodes- and he's actually the only member who thinks before he speaks- THANK YOU SEUNGMING I LOVE WHEN PEOPLE DON'T JUST BLURT EVERYTHING OUT-

so really ???? WHAT CAN'T HE DO HE IS A FULL PACKAGE- and fun fact, he brushes his teeth around 6 times a day-

but anyway, Seungmin is the type of person who appreciates the small things in life and finds happiness through those. I really like that attitude and he's truly someone worth looking up to. Our multitalented dandy boy- you can only love him~

Jeongin:

Jeongin here may be the youngest - and granted he is absolutely cute and adorable no matter what he does - but he's actually also a very mature person and I feel like that can be overlooked since he's the youngest of the team

while it can be hard for him to share his struggles as there's no one else his age in skz, he's also generally a person who doesn't want to burden others with his hardships so he keeps a lot of stuff to himself (so relatable)

but recently his mom talked to him about him not sharing his feelings and he's trying to open up more and share a bit, when the other members ask him if it's been hard, he often bursts into tears - god, protect him pls

even though he doesn't talk or show that much there's these moments - one time he was eating with Hyunjin and just broke down in tears since it's been hard for him - I suppose he bottles stuff up and then it comes out all of a sudden

however, his mature side is still there and the members, especially Hyunjin or Chan really enjoy sharing their feelings with him

Jeongin is a really great listener, he doesn't try to give solutions, he just listens to the other person and then shares his own experiences - it's what makes him seem mature

though he also has a bit of a mature and even cold look, so usually the first impression he gives off is different from his actual self and he said he enjoys seeing how people get surprised when they get closer to him and learn about his true self

he's also extremely clumsy and causes trouble often - from breaking doors, to accidentally hurting members, to spilling stuff, he's a clumsy boi

and he's also really forgetful, he tends to forget when he orders something online and gets surprised when it suddenly arrives or he forgets where he put his belongings (like his airpods jajdjskdks) and then he just buys new ones and then loses them again after a few months- aish that boi-

but these things are also what makes him even more lovable, like yes, he definitely has a mature side about him but you just want to protect and take care of him when you see him, amiright???

the members also said (or more like Hyunjin said) that he doesn't know anyone who's kinder and nicer than Jeongin

and on top of that, he's also a very hardworking member and his dancing and his vocals have improved soooooo much, and I'm so so so proud of him, like his voice is so beautiful

and he's been getting into working out recently, so now he's also trying to take good care of his body and wow, he's been doing a really good job even the members commented on how his back/shoulders are becoming broader

all in all, Jeongin is the cute and adorable maknae of Stray Kids but he's also so much more than just the youngest member and he's got so many things going for him and he always pushes through even when it's hard and never gives up

it's truly admirable like what can't he do right????? pls show our cute baby lots of love uwu

#the many hours i spent on this i'm so happy i got it done and i hope what i wrote made sense #i know the members ofc but i still did research on everyone first so that nothing i say in this guide is false #i hope you like it🥺#stray kids #ask #jenoscity💕#lovely mooties💖

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hexusproductions · 4 years ago

Note

I have no idea what No Straight Roads is but I want to know //everything// about it and your oc!! (Only if you want tho, obviously)

I very much want to!! Thank you for giving me an opportunity to gush about my most recent obsession

You can find my basic rundown on No Straight Roads here as well as one on my OC here, along with this post about his relationship with some of the canon characters.

As a refresher, my No Straight Roads OC is named Q-pid, the bread-and-butter for Prometheus Records. Q-pid is actually a lovecore-themed fictional persona, his real name is Pitt. Even though he loves being the character and being a musician, his ideas are usually struck down by his superiors, and he’s limited in what he’s allowed to do and write.

The in-universe ‘lore’ behind Q-pid is that he is a living embodiment of love sent to spread his message world-wide, essentially Cupid reborn. As such, the brand the record label sticks to is that of pure, family-friendly (but also commercialised) love in all of its possible forms. Q-pid has remained popular since his debut and has sparked a large fanbase. Similar to certain real-life persona bands, a variety of usual fandom creativity has popped up, including fanart and headcanons about the fictional character.

The essence of Q-pid’s personality is ‘Sweet as sugar, heart on the sleeve’, which has in fact become the mantra of those playing the character. Pitt, however, has an ego and pride in his musical abilities and appearance (he flaunts the fact that he spends hundreds of dollars into a single outfit alone). These two personalities don’t clash, however that ego occasionally shows in Q-pid.

Here’s some more information that isn’t included in his OG posts that I want to share (since you said everything about the character):

I do think of Q-pid as an optional boss in the game, who you’ll most likely find inside of the main building of Prometheus Records (the label is technically owned by NSR). You won’t get a district from defeating him, but you’ll still get all of the other boss rewards (special abilities, collectibles, etc.).

Pitt is bound by his contract to not let anyone know who he is, so he takes a lot of measures to make sure he’s not seen when out in public as himself. There’s a lot of layers involved clothing-wise, which can be a pain in the summer.

Q-pid has his own official social media account, while Pitt has his own personal one. Q-pid’s account is roughly 50/50 posts made by Pitt (in-character) and promotional posts made by his producers. Pitt’s account is full of things that he likes, but nothing personal.

Some common things you’ll find on Pitt’s personal account include; Numerous phone-recorded videos from the crowds of concerts by musical artists DJ Subatomic Supernova, Rott, and Bunk Bed Junction. Aesthetic photography of clouds, hearts, and fighter jets. Numerous retweets of cat pictures and videos.

Pitt does love the lovecore aesthetic, but he also enjoys the pilot aesthetic (this is most obvious in his go-to clothing item out of character being a bomber jacket). His back-up plan if he fails in the music business is to finally get his pilot’s license.

His favourite colours are mint green and pink

Pitt really wants at least one song where the themes/lyrics take Q-pid in a slightly darker direction. A lot of fanart commonly explores that idea, which both pleases and infuriates Pitt, because clearly it’s something at least some fans want. He even brought up the idea of a ‘bad boy’ costume for just one video, but that was also struck down.

He loves candy hearts and will pick through them for just the right message when giving them to someone, for no reason other than he feels joy from doing it. -- His costume designer implements a bracelet made out of candy hearts (painted wooden beads), which is where the ‘heart on the sleeve’ part of the Q-pid mantra originates, and it’s one of Pitt’s favourite parts of the costume.

I’m really tempted to drop all of Q-pid’s visual references here (the ones that I haven’t shown yet), but I might put all of those into a seperate post.

There are certain things I’m thinking about eventually implementing into Q-pid’s story, but at this point I’m unsure whether I should, since they impact the core element of him being controlled by his managers. Chronologically these events won’t happen for a while.

I really love this character and fully encourage any more questions about him, I plan on making more content in the future.

#NSR OC #NSR #No Straight Roads #Q-pid #thank you for asking!#I'm sorry for not seeing this before #this is very long but I'm grateful for the opportunity to share info #that I didn't have a way to before #Anonymous

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caraleedixon · 4 years ago

Text

Christmas Time Once again

@stellacarlinlitchfield-blog

Caralee sat on her father’s porch watching Daryl chop wood, Cara glanced over at her brother as she smiled softly. “Look at that boy. That’s what I want for Christmas” She told her little brother.

“You get that everyday... what’s so damn special about getting him for Christmas” Carl asked confused as they heard Daryl’s bark of laughter. The two Grimes kid looked over at him.

“She only means because last year I was on a run and is goading me because I forgot to bring her something back” He laughed as Cara glared at him, “Oh don’t start Sunshine, I already got your gift on the last run” He said chuckling as he went back to chopping the fire wood. Cara sipped her hot cocoa as Carl chuckled;

“Ya, He and dad picked out great Christmas gifts” Carl said as Daryl glared at Carl, “Hey it’s not like I’m gonna tell her” He chuckled, “besides, I can’t tell you what Cara got you-- OW!” He growled as his sister punched him in his arm. “I wasn’t gonna tell him Lee-Lee” Caralee rolled her eyes.

Christmas was two days away and Cara had found some Christmas lingerie, surprisingly, and a brand new compact bow. Daryl’s was looking a little worse for wear after five years of the apocalypse and killing all of the zombies that he had killed. “So Sunshine, what did you get me for Christmas? Or did you forget me this year?” Came Daryl’s voice from beside her, Cara jumped slightly as her thoughts had wandered up to her father’s closet where the gifts for Daryl were hidden.

“I did not forget about you, for five years I’ve gotten you shit, even though you don’t like celebrating Christmas Redneck.” She said holding out her cocoa to him before he shook his head and grabbed his whiskey.

“warms me up better then the damned cocoa” He said as he took a shot. “It’s getting really cold out Sunshine, why don’t you and Carl go inside, I only got a few more pieces to cut.” He said as he noticed Cara shivering.

“Dad’s not back yet, I don’t wanna go in until--” Daryl sat his cup down on the table, harder then he actually meant to.

“Damnit Caralee... It’s ten degrees out here, and you are shivering... go inside” He said, his eyes falling on Carl. “Get your stubborn sister inside” he said before Carl got up and nodded.

“Come on, Lee-Lee” He said helping her up, “Dad should be back soon anyway” He said slowly. Cara rolled her eyes and nodded, pulling the blanket off of her as she shivered again.

“Fine fine... use the little brother against me” She growled at Daryl who smirked. The Grimes kids made their way inside as Carl started a fire in the fire place. “So.. I also got you something Carl,” She said chuckling, pulling one of the gifts out from under the tree. “It’s not as big as the one you’ll open on Christmas but you might need it on your run tomorrow” She said smiling as he took it slowly.

“You... you didn’t have to get me anything... I haven’t been able to find something perfect for you yet.. I was planning on looking tomorrow” He said slowly as he began to open the gift. His eyes widened as he saw the twin desert eagles just like hers. “Lee-Lee... these are beautiful and the holsters.. Jesus Christ sissy...” He said putting them down and hugging her tightly. “Thank you so much!” Cara smiled as she hugged him back tightly.

~~~~CHRISTMAS EVE~~~~~

Daryl was laying in bed, cleaning his old compact bow, waiting for Cara to come back from her father’s house. Christmas Eve dinner had ended an hour ago, and Daryl was starting to wonder where his girl was. He sighed in relief as he heard the front door open and shut. “Took you long enough, Sunshine” He called from the bedroom.

“Oh have some damned patients, Redneck” She called as she pulled off her boots and set them down by the door. She bit her lip as she tightened her coat around her middle before walking up the steps and down the hall to their bedroom. Daryl’s eyebrow’s furrowed as he saw his girl’s bare legs.

“I could have sworn you had jeans on when I left Rick’s place” He said slowly, sitting up and noticing that there was nothing on her lower half that he could see. “Caralee... what--” Cara bit her lip before slowly shrugging off her jacket and showing off...

Daryl’s eyes widened as he growled playfully, “And what... exactly... is the occasion?” He asked as he hungrily looked his girl up and down.

“It’s Christmas Eve” She said in a small voice, she couldn’t gauge his reaction in the dimly lit room. “Do you like your present?” She asked slowly as she took a step towards him. Daryl was on the edge of the bed in a heartbeat, pulling the young girl to him gently by her wrist.

“Oh baby you know I do... you’re beautiful and why you always get flustered and embarrassed when you’re either naked or like this is beyond me” he said, looking down at her with a smile. “Now, all I want to do is take that off of you and make love to your gorgeousness.” She giggled and squealed as Daryl pulled her down on top of him.

~~~Christmas Day~~~

Cara woke up late to the smell of waffles wafting up the stairs, she opened her eyes and blinked confused at the empty bed. She grabbed Daryl’s shirt that was laying at the edge of the bed and a pair of panties before pulling them on and heading downstairs. Daryl was in the kitchen, arranging a tray of breakfast for Cara. The man looked up as the burnett entered the kitchen and frowned slightly. “You, missy, are not supposed to be awake yet.” He grumbled, “I had a whole idea in my head and you just had to ruin it with waking up early, didn’t think you’d be up this early anyway after our rough and tumble last night anyway.” The girl smiled and giggled gently;

“I’m still tired... I could go back upstairs and let you come up...?” She asked slowly, Daryl chuckled slightly coming over and kissing her head. before taking her hand and setting something into it.

“No no, it’s alright Sunshine” He said before looking down at her smiling, “Merry Christmas my Sunshine” he said, Cara looked down at what he had placed in her hand.

Cara squealed as she saw the necklace. “Daryl! I love it! and You so very much” She said pulling him down and kissing him passionately. “Merry Christmas D” She whispered against his stubble. The man allowed a small smile to tug at his lips as he kissed her back.

“I’m glad you like it, I found a jewelry store on the run last week, when I saw it... I instantly thought of you” He said as he sat her down on the counter. He smiled, placing the try over her lap. “Eat, we have to be over at Rick’s in half an hour” He said kissing the side of her head. “And.. I hate that you made me promise this.. but yea I’m gonna be wearin’ something nice... just like you” He said slowly. Cara kissed collar bone gently before smiling up at him.

“Good..”

The couple ate and talked about different things, mostly about the fact that Daryl hated Christmas but would do anything to make Cara happy. After they ate, the two went upstairs to get ready, Cara in a red dress and green winter leggings and Daryl in one of his nicer tops and black jeans. A smirk played on Daryl’s lips as he watched Caralee’s fingers slowly caress the record player that Daryl had found her a few months back. He had yet to find her a vinyl for her to play on it, or so Cara had thought. “You ready to go?” Daryl asked as he wrapped his arm possessively around her waist as he kissed her head. The burnet nodded, “Alright lets get going” He said as he took a step towards the door.

“Wait.. I need your help with my new necklace” She said looking over at him, Daryl rolled his eyes as he stepped back. he took the clasps in his hands as she pulled up her hair. He smiled and clasped it before kissing her shoulder gently. “Ok, now I’m ready” She said smiling grabbing her jacket as she took his hand. Daryl wasn’t much for showing affection for anyone, and it had taken years for him to be comfortable holding her hand in public.

The two made their way over to Rick Grimes’s house, the group was already there opening gifts but had waited to open the ones from Cara. “You’re late Caralee” Came Rick’s voice as he smiled and hugged her before smiling at Daryl. “Keep her up late?” Cara blushed as Daryl barked out a laugh. “Lets get to opening gifts.

After Cara had opened her gifts from her father, which was a leather jacket, the gift from her brother which was a avenged sevenfold shirt and from Michonne which was a hand made ‘ride or die’ bracelet. Cara reached under the Christmas Tree to grab a large gift with Daryl’s name on it. Daryl looked surprised. “Sunshine, you already gave me my gift” He said sounding confused.

“No, I gave you the special gift, this is the more practical one” She said smiling as he took it from her and slowly started to open it.

Daryl looked confused at the black box and glanced up at her as she gave him a encouraging nod. He undid the locks before opening it, a compact bow that was his favorite color. The man swore as he saw it, heat rising to his cheeks as he looked over it and took it out of the box. “My god, Sunshine... This is incredible” he said as he put it down and pulled her onto his lap, he kissed her passionately before looking over at Carl. “Can you hand me the last present for Sunshine?” He asked, Carl nodded getting up and grabbing the large flat square haphazardly wrapped gift and handed it to Daryl. “Go on baby, open it” he said slowly as Cara took it gently. She furrowed her eyebrows at him and looked around the room. All eyes were on her as she blushed deeply, it seemed as if everyone but her knew what this was. She unwrapped the gift before nearly dropping it in surprise.

“How the hell did you find the vinyl version of my favorite band? This album has my favorite song on it” She said, she was rambling. “I mean, this must have taken months to find!” She said setting it down and kissing him passionately. “How long--” Daryl cut her off with a shake of his head.

“He has been looking for the perfect record since he found the record player back in Summer” Michonne told her, “Every single time he went out with me, Carl or your dad, he was looking for it” She said as Cara looked back over at Daryl.

“And you say you hate Christmas, Redneck” She said chuckling. Daryl sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“I may hate Christmas, but the look you gave me for the necklace and that record right there... that is why I do it” He said gruffly. “Because I love to make you happy.” Cara kissed him again as he flushed kissing her back. “Merry Christmas Sunshine”

“Merry Christmas Redneck”

#twd #daryldixon #christmas #carlgrimes

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