#i worked too many years with artists to not feel rage at comments like these

[insipid-drivel]

One of the hardest things for artists to do is feel as though they've successfully established their own unique artistic style that's identifiable from the works of other successful artists in their field.

It's absolutely normal and okay to begin your career as an artist through copying/tracing and mimicking the art of professional artists you've admired and that have helped shape the style of your imagination. That's how we learn - by copying. However.

When an artist is establishing themselves as a formal artist - as a professional or just More Than Just A Doodler - and cares about the work they're putting out a lot, having their art compared to pre-existing works by unrelated artists becomes extremely unflattering and detrimental. It can be demotivating and harmful to the health of that artist's growth and much-needed sense of confidence.

A professional artist wants to know how they're standing out. A professional artist wants to hone what makes their work absolutely and completely unique (and if you start to argue "but nobody's art is totally unique!" I will come to your house, dangle you off the roof by your ankles, and shake you until the Midjourney scrapeware falls out of your eye sockets) and continue mastering and adapting their style and its uniqueness.

Every character has a soul. Every landscape has a silent song. Every brush stroke, line, and blot of color represents something unique inside of the mind and heart of every artist. Nobody wants to be known as "the artist that draws just like [other popular artist]" unless they are plagiarizers.

An artist's style isn't just a style. It's who they are, and a veritable road map that can tell much more about that artist's life experiences, emotions, and passions are centered around than the casual viewer may fully realize. Every piece is a more refined, more crystallized (and sometimes scrunkly) offering of a window into their ideas, their hopes, their feelings, and everything that truly matters as they enrich the lives of every single person on this earth.

Saying someone's piece "escaped" from another person's work is essentially suggesting they've intentionally ripped off someone else's style. You're trying to compliment an artist by sweetly accusing them of potential plagiarism, and outright disregarding and dismissing how much they, on their own, have had to practice and study just to get to the point that they feel comfortable publishing a single piece.

If you like an artist's work enough to want to send them a nice comment, just focus on what you like about their art. Not how much their art reminds you of someone else's. It devalues the time, energy, and sacrifices an artist makes to hone their craft and muster their confidence enough to share their work. When that artist is also a professional, you're also basically saying, "Hey, you're good enough to fill in for another professional's animation team even though you've spent your entire education and career in the arts for your work to be valued for its own merits."

If all you can think to say is, "I love how your OC makes me think of another person's OCs," then maybe consider just going through that artist's blog and reblogging more of their work without comment. Especially when they've clearly established they do not like having their work compared to another artist's the first fucking time they respond.

Your Crowley escaped from Hazbin Hotel

[nightshadehoney]

I never watched James Somerton's shitty Killing Stalking video because I was trying to be good to myself and avoid something that I knew would make me very angry. In fact, I never watched any of his stuff because the fact that he made a video like that was enough to discount any thing he ever had to say (also I heard about the Celluloid Closet plagiarism).

But man, is the James Somerton discourse bringing a lot of Killing Stalking-related feelings back up for me. Because I'm mad; I'm still so mad. There are a suprising amount of people on social media who are saying they never watched any of his stuff except for the Killing Stalking video. I'm annoyed not just to find out that the vid had that sort of reach and influence, but also because Somerton's unmasking hasn't seemed to make people reasses the validity of the kind of thing he was saying. People are just now being like "hmm I think this guy might have Issues With Women" but that doesn't warrant any reflection on what exactly the motivation is of people who complain about women enjoying a niche webcomic? Because I don't actually believe you're concerned about the influence of some obscure piece of media when you advertise its existence to your large audience many of whom had not heard of it and would never have heard of it but for your transparent outrage porn video. It's rage bait and the target was women that are perceived as straight. A big channel has publicized the fact that they excised a section that endorsed the opinions in this video from their own because they became aware of Somerton's plagiarism and dishonesty (presumably; if it was actually because they recognized his views were coming from a sexist place I would welcome a clarification). And you know, I don't think that's a good look actually. That you needed to be told he was a bad person and couldn't idependently put together that the misogynist man was saying misogynist things.

The comic ended years ago and the fandom has gone mostly quiet, but to this day people are still the peddling the"fujoshi/stupid teenage girls who don't know what's good for them are shipping these characters because they are too braindead to realize it's not a romance; it's a horror, two things I believe are mutually exclusive. I am smarter than all of these cringe degenerates" bullshit. It's in the comments of the hbomberguy video even; one comment was such a gross misrepresentation of the series that my friend needed to talk me down from getting into a pointless youtube comments argument (bless him) because these people are officially making me lose my marbles.

This narrative is full of shit, it's demonstrably not fucking true. You can go on the artist's twitter right now and its full of her retweeting shippy fanart of that pairing readers were apparently never intended to ship.

(I don't think Koogi knows or cares about James Somerton; she just reblogs the works of fans who tag her. This made me laugh though).

Now this is all speculation because he died decades before social media existed, but I think if Nabokov was alive today his twitter would not be full of Humbert Humbert x Dolores Haze fanart. And yet, I have unironically seen people compare shipping Sangwoo and Bum in Killing Stalking with the misreading of Lolita as a precocious sexual temptress more than once.

And this isn't me saying that Killing Stalking is the disgusting"pro-sexualized abuse" comic that tumblr purity police used to characterize it as either. One of these days I'm going to go truly bonkers and end up banging pots and pans on the street corner, yelling at random innocent passerbys about how stories about romantic and sexual relationships are not required to be Hallmark movies. You can make art about the negative, dark, and troubling parts of these feelings and relationships without creating a pat morality tale. You don't need to approach media analysis like your 7th grade teacher has assigned you an essay on explaining what a novel's "message" is.

Nobody, not the author and not the fans, genuinely thinks that Sangwoo and Bum have a healthy or aspirational relationship. This hypothetical person that does not understand the relationship is toxic doesn't exist. Because girls and women, even the ones having cringey fandom fun on tiktok or whatever, are not so stupid and naive that they are unware that breaking someone's legs and locking them in a muder basement is bad. The type of concern troll rhetoric Somerton employed in his video is directed near exclusively at women interested in men and there's a reason for this. Women are not responsible for abuse that men do to them; nobody is responsible for their partner abusing them. If I never saw people spit this bullshit again it would be too soon.

[dp-marvel94]

(Not) Alone- Chapter 1

Summary: Consumed with worry and scared after watching Dani almost die, Danny begs her to come home with him and meet Jazz. He wants to see her safe and happy and taken care of more than anything. An important reveal also weighs heavy on him – Dani isn’t the only living clone… and the other is him. He needs to tell her the truth; maybe that will convince her to agree to the idea of telling his parents. And she'll stay in Amity Park with him, where he'll never have to worry if she's safe ever again.

Meanwhile, Dani has mixed feelings. Still reeling from the loss of her clone siblings, Danny’s unexpected worry and care make her uncomfortable. And her own guilt… she hurt him and helped get him kidnapped twice. How can he care about a mistake like her? But having clean clothes and a bed is wonderful. And things aren’t as simple as she thinks.

Will Dani accept the help she needs and let herself be loved? Or will she push Danny and Jazz away and run again?

Word Count: 3,653

Next chapter

Also on AO3 and Fanfiction.net

Warnings: Minor swearing, Moderate ectoplasmic gore, Past minor character death, Nightmares, Grief/mourning, angst

Note: It's finally here! Working on this year's Invisobang story was a blast, especially collaborating with my two wonderful artists, @Serinji and @Lostrence ! The art is lovely and I'm very excited for you all to see it.

This story is a sequel to my first Invisobang story, called "I am you(and you are me)." You should be able to understand this story without having read that one first though. The basic gist is, in Kindred Spirits, the Tiny clone ended up basically melting while still possessing Danny which caused their consciousness and cores to fuse into one being, a la Vlad and Danny's ghost halves fusing in TUE. There is a lot of angst and identity confusion as the new Danny figures out what happened and struggles to accept himself while hiding it from Sam, Tucker, and Jazz. But in the end, he tells them truth and after a lot of tears and hard conversations, they accept him too. Any other important details should be explained in the sequel itself. 

A note on the title-- (Not) Alone. 

First off, it goes the the naming scheme that I've used for my previous Invisobang stories, which was really fun to make work.

And second, It's inspired by two of my favorite songs, one of which is by my favorite band, Disciple. And I've been wanting to name one of my stories after a Disciple song for years now. 😂 I'd been trying to think of songs which reflect the feelings Dani experiences during the story and/or which reflect the story's theme. Both of the songs do that pretty well, though both lean towards the theme. In both, the singer reassures the listener that they matter, they are loved, and they are not alone.

The first song is the appropriately named "Not Alone" by Red. And the second is "Erase" by Disciple. The "not alone" part is from the bridge, where "You are not alone" is sung several times, higher and louder each time until it reaches a really moving crescendo which has definitely brought me to tears many times. Both of these mean a lot to me and I am very happy to have them as a part of this story.

And finally, if you have any questions or comments, as always feel free to leave them in the comments below. I hope you enjoy this story!

Chapter 1

“Stay away from my family.” Danny loomed over Vlad Plasmius, a foot on his chest.

His dual core vibrated with a contained rage, green eyes boring into red.

“What the hell were you thinking?” The boy spread his arms. “You tried to kill Dani, Vlad. You tried to kill her. If I hadn’t gotten here. If I-” Grief stabbed at his core. He’d come so close to losing her- No. He pushed the thought away, anger rising. “You were what? Gonna dissect her and try it all again?”

Vlad stiffened for just a second. The younger half ghost saw the lie flickering in his eyes.

“Don’t say it. Don’t you dare f-cking say it. What? You were trying to help her, find a way to stabilize her?” The boy scoffed. “Yeah. Right.” A shake of his head. “Why did you even bother making any clones if you were just going to throw all of us away?”

“If you would just listen, my boy-”

Danny didn’t blast the man’s lying mouth but it was a near thing, a burning green flame warping the floor an inch from his enemy’s head. “I’m not listening to any more of your lies.” Another ball, this one of ice, flickered in his hand. “I’m done. This is over.” Pure hatred in his eyes. “You’ve hurt so many people. One day all that’s going to come back to bite you and…” A mirthless laugh. “It looks like that day’s today. You don’t have my mom, you don’t have Danielle, and you don’t have me.” 

The blue energy swelled, looming ominously over the older’s core.

Red eyes widened with fear. Plasmius looked almost green, sick with terror. With a sneer, Danny shot.

“You’re just as alone as you’ve ever been.” Ice enveloped Vlad’s arms and legs, pinning him to the metal floor. 

A flicker of relief shone in the man’s eyes, then…. scorn. “You were always too weak to do what needed to-”

With a wave of his hand, Danny threw another ball of cold. A hiss and the blue energy unfurled, an icy gag over the older halfa’s mouth.

Danny didn’t dignify the previous statement. Instead, removing his foot, he smirked. “You like that trick? I learned it from my friends in the Far Frozen. I’m sure you remember them.” A not-so-gentle poke to the man’s side. “Maybe it’s time I let them have a stab at you.” His lips quirked, darkly mirthful.

A muffled, confection-themed curse sounded from the man.

“Yeah, yeah, Fruitloop.” The boy rolled his eyes. Then, deathly serious… “Don’t touch my little sister.” He turned, floating up without a look back. “I won’t warn you again.” 

The boy flickered intangible, phasing through the ceiling. He flew up, attempting to shake off the whole interaction. Still, anger boiled in his veins. That man’s audacity! He’d gone too far now, caused too much damage, hurt too many people. Danny had to do something about it….

He would definitely have to talk to Frostbite now; the yeti had to know something they could do. Dora too. And Pandora. And  Clockwork… if he could get the old ghost to actually tell him anything useful. His parents too….

The boy swallowed, stomach suddenly flopping at the thought of the impending revelation. Part of him hated it. It made him queasy but it needed to happen. He’d already waited so long. And this problem with Vlad…. it couldn’t go on, especially not without them knowing the truth. Maybe Mom and Dad could help him figure something out too….

Ugh. This was going to be hard. He should probably see what Danielle wanted to do before he got too wrapped up in-

Danielle! 

Just like that his brain pivoted, relief and worry clashing in him. After months of not knowing where she was, if she was even alive, his little sister, the only other surviving clone was here! 

Granted, Danielle didn’t know any of that. She didn’t know that he wasn’t just Danny, her original, the person she was cloned from. But that he was also Tiny, Damian, one of her presumably dead clone brothers. Back at Vlad’s, before she’d escaped, the two had accidentally fused. Their cores combined, creating something… someone new. 

But none of that particularly mattered right now. Now, he and Dani were finally reunited and she was safe. He and Valerie had saved her from Vlad. But…

The image of her face, eyes wide with panic, dripping green with her ectoplasm…. That had been too close. He needed to make sure she was okay.

The ghost boy darted around, eyes instantly fixing on a red figure, high in the sky. He quickly rose. 

Ten feet below now… “Dani, that was awesome! Dani?” His eyes widened, an instant panic. “Valerie, where’s Dani?!” No. No, not again-

“Boo!” The girl popped back into sight, a teasing mischievous grin on her face.

“Danielle!” He breathed out, so much relief in the name. “Don’t do that to me!” Danny chastised, anxiety flaring. “I thought you ran off again.” 

The memory ate at him. Then Sam and Tucker crashed through, hitting the older man. Locking Vlad ( Master) in a pod. He needs... he needs to find Danielle. He needs to find his baby sister. But she’s gone. She’s gone. Newly re-made and one of his first coherent thoughts was to find his baby sister.

The young clone’s grin fell into a disappointed frown.

The boy didn’t fully register the reaction, his hands on her shoulders. “Are you hurt? Anything feel weird?”

Dani shrugged out of his hold. “I’m fine.”

She looked… uncomfortable, Danny realized. He lowered his arms, back-stepping. “I’m sorry. You just…. I got scared.” He averted his eyes. The words… they weren’t enough for all he’d just felt. “ I…I almost lost you.”

“But you didn’t….” The girl trailed off, shifting awkwardly. An unsure look from him to… over his shoulder? “Thanks both of you for saving me.” Right, the Huntress was still here. “Vlad would’ve baked me into a puddle if you hadn’t been there.”

The words sank into his core like a stone, icy dread swirling in him.

“But he didn’t! And I’m fine. I feel great!” She smiled, a clear attempt at appeasing. “Better than ever. And now that I’m fixed, I’ve got places to go…” Half awkward, half excited, Dani pointed with her thumb behind her, floating up.

“No, you don’t.” Danny grabbed her arm and the girl tensed. His own rebuking tone surprised him; he sounded like Mom, telling him to go to bed. “You don’t have to leave.” His voice softened, gripped loosened. 

The boy glanced back at Valerie, meeting her confused and thoughtful eyes behind her visor.

He pulled the younger girl closer, voice lowering. “Go to my house. I know you know where it is.”

“But-” Dani started.

“They’re out of town.” Luckily, blessedly, his parents were off visiting Aunt Alicia. “Ja- My sister is home though. Find her. Tell her who you are.” Danny put as much earnestness into the words as he could muster. “She’ll get you something to eat, clean clothes. ”

“You really don’t have to do that.” Dani bit her lip, unsure.

“You’re family.” He said plainly. It was easy, as simple as that. “Of course we’re going to help you.”

The girl looked down, frowning at her shoes. “I’m fine. I don’t need help.”

“Please. For me.” With wide eyes, he pleaded. “Let us help you. Just… stay the night at least, please.” He was not ashamed to beg, not about this. 

Danielle’s shoulder tensed, doubt plain on her face. She glanced over his shoulder at Valerie, then down again. Finally… “Okay. I’ll go.” Her body relaxed, ever so slightly.

Danny let go and Dani turned, flying off in the right direction, toward Fentonworks…. The girl gave a hesitant look back and the boy offered an encouraging smile, his core clinging to a desperate hope. 

Please, please. He begged in his mind. Please let her go home to Jazz. Please.

The half ghost watched for a long minute, the girl soon disappearing into the distance. Then with a breath, he steeled himself.

He turned to the Huntress, hand held in front of him. “A deal’s a deal.” 

Valerie crossed her arms, one brow raised in impatient question.

The boy hurriedly continued. “You helped me save Danielle. I’m your captive.”

For a long moment, the Huntress studied him, her brow furrowed. Danny held his breath, waiting for her verdict. Then….

“Forget it.”

“What?” He blinked.

“Fly away, Phantom.” Valerie uncrossed her arms, waving him off. “Go.” Something in her harsh expression softened. “Go take care of your family.”

The boy’s eyes widened. She was really going to…. “Alright. I’m going.” A hint of a smile graced his lips. “Thanks again, Val.”

Phantom drifted back, turning to fly after Danielle. It looked like he would get to introduce her to Jazz after-

“Hey!” He flinched, a sudden red shot zooming inches over his shoulder. Danny turned, mouth falling open in offense. “What was that for?”

The girl pointed, frowning. “It’s open season tomorrow.” Despite the words, humor danced in her eyes. “On sight, ghost boy.”

Back to normal it was then, huh? “I look forward to it.” The halfa smirked, mockingly saluting. “See ya Red.”

The Huntress turned with a huff, eyes still sparkling with mirth. “See ya.” She flew off.

Danny turned back towards where Danielle had gone. Well, things were smoothed out with Val at least, it seemed. But now…. The boy sighed, familiar worry plastering itself on his face. Now for everything else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dani with an i (and that ‘i’ was really important!) was happy to be alive. Really happy to be alive but… today had been weird. 

On her last leg (almost literally; her legs did keep melting), she just made it to Amity Park. She looked for Danny, hoping he could help her. She stole some apples, was seen transforming by the scary (but very badass) red-suited ghost hunter lady. She was captured, used to trick and kidnap her original (again). Handed over to Vlad, strapped to a table. That had been… too close. She’d felt her body falling apart, Danny arriving seemingly too late. She had…. melted into a puddle. (Try not to think too hard about that part…)

But the green stuff (Danny said his dad made it?) had worked! Danny and… Valerie (that was the ghost hunter lady’s name, right?) had fought Vlad for her. They’d given her time to get away and she felt better than ever. A new lease on life! She was ready to see the world but….

“Why was he being weird?” Dani muttered, flying off toward Fentonworks. “Worrying about me.. I’m fine.”

She was half tempted to turn around and high tail it out of the city. There was so much to see. The Grand Canyon, New York City. Maybe she’d actually make it all the way to the ocean this time. She didn’t have time to linger and…

The clone girl crossed her arms, scowling. She didn’t need the help. And yet…

Danny’s neon green eyes, wide with worry, flashed in her mind. That second before she’d reappeared, the sheer panic on his face…. 

Something like guilt twisted in her stomach. Maybe she could just stay for the night. Fresh clothes and a hot meal did sound good….

“Dani! Wait up!” Her original’s voice called out behind her.

The girl paused in her flight, turning. She raised a brow, waving in the direction he’d come. “What was that about?”

He stopped, a hand moving to his neck. “Oh. I just had to talk to Red about something.”

Dani’s questioning look just intensified, lips pursed. 

The boy hesitated, a weighty pause. Then… “I made a deal with Red, to get her to help me…”

Dani motioned him to continue. “Well?” 

His cheeks turned green, a (guilty?) blush. “I… I told her about you being not just a ghost but human too…” Dani felt her core drop. (That was so close to his secret.) “I promised I’d become her prisoner, answer all her questions about ghosts and the Zone. Even let her… let her…” The words were left unsaid but Dani could guess them, what a ghost hunter (willing to sell her out to the man trying to kill her) would do with a captured ghost. The boy shook his head finally continuing. “I’d let her do whatever she wanted with me. If that’s what it took to get her to help save you.”

“So you escaped?” She asked hopefully.

Another head shake. “No. She… let me go.”

Dani blinked. “She… let you go? That’s…” A pause, her eyes lit up. “That’s great! I knew she was cool!” 

Still, that guilt lingered at the back of her mind. Danny had been captured and hurt (again) because of her. Even so, despite that, he was willing to be tortured if it meant saving her (As if she deserved to be saved). And…. dread dropped in her gut. If the Hunteress hadn’t let him go….

“Yeah. She is cool.” The boy smiled, almost wistful. After a second, he shook off the feeling. “Come on. We’re almost home.” 

The clone girl looked around, at the street below. The hulking metal structure on one particular roof…. Only a few blocks away. “Right…. There’s Fentonworks.” The girl bit her lip.

“Jazz will be excited to meet you.” Danny smiled soothingly; apparently he did notice her unease. He turned…

“Oh. Okay.” Dani followed after him. “Wait? Jazz?”

The older halfa was already a street away from her. How was he so fast?! The younger took off after. Just a couple buildings away now….

Danny stopped in the air, reaching a hand out towards the girl. She just stared at it, uncomprehending for a long moment. His brow slowly furrowed. Then he sighed, floating closer to close the gap. His arm reached for her hand and…

Dani tensed instinctively, half-expecting a rebuke for not understanding. (A half-remembered memory, Vlad’s nose in the air, “dull creature… never understands anything….”) 

But Danny’s hand was gentle, voice soft when he spoke. “We need to turn invisible.” The cold feeling washed over both of them. “Can’t have someone seeing two ghosts phase into Danny Fenton’s room.”

“Yeah.” Dani nodded, numbly. (Why had she reacted like that? Stupid…. Of course, her original wouldn’t be angry about that. She’d never even seen him angry at her.)

Danny gently tugged her forward, pausing in front of a familiar window. He flickered both of them intangible and phased into his bedroom.

“Home, sweet, home.” The boy sighed, reappearing. He let go of her hand and turned human.

A second later, Dani also transformed, landing on the floor.

“Jazz should be in her room.” Danny said, opening his door. “Probably studying like always.”

The clone girl couldn’t help but follow, despite the nervousness turning her stomach. She knew Jazz existed, of course. And she’d seen her in passing the first time she’d been here. But actually meeting her? It had never even occurred to her. Six hours ago, her only thoughts were just getting to Danny in time, of staying alive (or her version of it as a half ghost). But what would happen next, she had no clue. (She didn’t think she’d even make it this far.)

Ignorant to her worries, her original stepped across the hall and knocked on the door. Obviously Jazz’s, from the name on it. “Jazz? Can we come in?”

“You can.” A teenage girl’s voice called through the door. Danny pushed it open with a creak. “We? Are Sam and Tucker here…”

The question trailed off, wide teal eyes falling on Dani’s blue ones. The clone shifted awkwardly under the surprised gaze. Her heart fluttered anxiously. No one was saying anything….

“Jazz.” At the name, both girl’s eyes fixed on the boy. He motioned to the younger. “This is Danielle.” He turned to his clone, smiling. “And Dani. This is ou- my big sister, Jazz.”

The black-haired girl barely registered the stumble, eyes fixed back on the red-head. Numbly, she waved.

Slowly, Jazz closed the book she was reading and stood from the bed. “Danielle.” There was no hesitation at the name. The red-head stepped forward and…. 

Before Dani even registered, the other girl’s arms were squeezing her. “I’m so happy to meet you!”

What. The clone girl’s mind stuttered. She flickered intangible, escaping from the uncomfortable bear hug. 

For a second, Jazz looked hurt, disappointed. Then her expression softened into something understanding. “I’m sorry. I should have asked if you were comfortable being hugged.”

“It’s… it’s okay.” Dani rubbed the back of her neck, suddenly embarrassed. “You just… surprised me.”

She had been surprised. Not only had Danny apparently told his sister about her, but Jazz was excited to meet her. And that reaction? It was… a lot. Of course she was uncomfortable. (Was that it though? She hadn’t been hugged since… well, less than an hour ago, but she had just died so it was expected. But before that… another face, similar to her own and Danny’s, flashed in her mind…)

“Still, I’m sorry about that.” The older girl smiled apologetically. “I am very happy you are here and you’re okay.” Her brow furrowed, eyes searching her. “You are okay, right? You don’t look hurt. Your hair is a mess though. And that hoodie is filthy.” She tapped her chin. “I think we have some of my and Danny’s old clothes in the attic. Something should fit you.”

Dani took a step back, overwhelmed by the onslaught. “Really, that’s-” Unfortunately then, her stomach grumbled loudly.

“Let’s get some food in you first.” Danny chuckled.

“You two are mother ducks.” The clone girl grumbled, crossing her arms.

“It’s mother hens.” The boy pointed. “And no, I’m not.” He huffed.

Jazz laughed, eyes sparkling teasingly. “You’ve got it bad, little brother.” She stepped out the door, ignoring Danny’s protest. “Come on, Danielle. I’ll make you something to eat.”

There was no getting out of this then, was there? 

Dani followed the other girl, sheepishly adding. “It’s… uhh… Dani, with an i.”

“Dani with i.” Jazz nodded sagely. “Okay Dani with an i, what do you want for dinner?"

[lillalis]

Ask game for OCs: 🎹 + 🥊 + ❤️ + ✂️ + 🍀

🎹 - Do they have any hobbies?

She is a HUGE dancer. Her passion for dancing developed when she was around 6 years old. She has attended many lessons, courses and participated in many dance activities. Has been in a more professional dancing group for over 10 years. Dancing is her life and has helped her through her downs in her life immensely. Leonore is a good ol' fishing gal! She went fishing with her dad since she was a small one and enjoys it ever since. If she is not in the mood, she enjoys reading; specifically romance books and quite some erotic romance novels too and anything scientific. She might've not worked as the profession she studied for, but her fascination in the areas (clinical chemistry and microbiology as well as hematology, hemostaseology and immunohematology) are still very prevalent; she reads journals and/or scientific articles about them.

🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

Dancing of course! On some days, she dances in spaces where no one can see her (or at least she thinks no one can), sometimes in the cottage with music of her choice. There's not one day, where she isn't dancing. She loves to go out for fishing, but sometimes the passion of cooking hits her like a train, and she cooks many dishes! Also, cuddling with her cats or with her bearded dragon is also some quality time for her. And reading her literature!

She hates cleaning the plates and everything after cooking. Never liked the dirty water and the pieces floating in it; it makes her very uncomfortable, but she can manage it. Leonore is not a fan of getting in the mines either, she hurt herself way too many times there (surprisingly not from the monsters). Hates going to Clint for the geodes, whishes she could somehow do it herself.

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

There's one memory she's very fond off: one day they travelled to Pelican Town to attend the Fair. It was a very harmonical, peaceful trip with no worries. Just a family enjoying the beauty of Pelican Town. She ran to the beach and was in awe when she saw the sea - and suddenly she saw a woman move her body in the water in the most elegant ways imaginable. It never left her and probably gave her the confidence for her passion for dancing. She never told anyone every single detail, since no one would've believed that she saw a mermaid.

✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories?

Definitely the one with the "reunion" with her ex and his new gf. When he came over to introduce his new partner to her, there was already this rage bottled up in her. The longer the meet-up went, the angrier she got. He continued to talk to her like they were made for each other and how "love always finds a way" with Leonore knowing that his desire for fame also played a role. The comments and his behavior triggered something in her - causing her fury to lash out and shatter the glass with her own strength, causing the ex and his gf to flee.

The aftermath left her empty, broken and damaged - like she's undeserving of love.

And that's why she has promised, basically sworn to herself, to never fall in love again.

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

I enjoy designing female ocs of all kind, but never designed one who's a dancer and I wanted to change that! I've been experimenting with different things (upbringing, personality etc.) and SDV was a wonderful opportunity! Was getting bored with using my farmer persona and wanted to bring something new.

Fun fact: I made Leonore a farmer, but my intention is also to make her feel like she could be an NPC too! Who knows, she might've been an interesting older bachelorette! And I'd think her match up would be some kind of DJ/Musical artist (maybe I might design him someday)

Thank you so much for the ask! <3

[always-andromeda]

˚ʚ 𝕬𝖓𝖉𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖉𝖆'𝖘 𝕻𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖘 𝕽𝖆𝖓𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 ɞ˚

Here's the giant Portals ranking that no one was waiting for!! 🥰 This whole post is unnecessarily long and includes my shitty little analysis so hey, thank you if you read any of this! If you don't read this giant post, then I will make my main point quickly. This album is fucking beautiful. And Melanie continues to top her previous work in so many ways. The direction that her narrative is going in is one that I am so into and if this post does anything at all, I hope it encourages you to take a look at this album and her other music. Because I think the things she has to say with her discography are both highly creative and deeply topical. My love for her artistic vision is immense and I hope that comes across in this post. Anyhoo, I love you all. Stream Portals, please and thank you!! 💞✨

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: I am just a random dork on the internet who's a huge music lover and especially a massive Melanie fan. That's all. And I genuinely love every song on this album. For me, Melanie's discography is one of the few skipless ones I know of and this album continues that tradition. The songs near the bottom of this list are only there because the ones that are listed before it were so memorable for me.

❥ 𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋

loving you was lethal, guess that makes me evil...

We're starting off this ranking strong with my absolute favorite song on this whole album. I'm warning everyone by saying that I love this song with my entire heart and I am taking this opportunity to get all of feelings about it out. Because if you've ever been in a relationship with a narcissist, this is a song you scream the lyrics to. I would 100% recommend doing this; it's unexplainably therapeutic. I think one of my favorite little tidbits about this song is that Melanie kept rewriting lyrics because they weren't mean enough. She said she spent a whole day completely wrecking her vocal cords for this song. And there's something so empowering and radical in a person who is normally so compassionate and empathetic exercising that kind of pure, unadulterated anger. Personally, I've spent a very long time almost feeling guilty over that anger because it isn't proper or kind. But Melanie's articulation and expression of this rage and refusal to keep taking mistreatment is fucking everything. In the past year or so, I've had to do a lot of work to completely embrace that evil and crazy label. Out of all the conflict songs on Portals, this one is my favorite. The lyricism and instrumental are perfect for the song's energy and I will keep screaming along to it basically any chance that I get. For all of my friends out there who have been in this kind of relationship, you are entitled to your anger. You are allowed to feel wronged. You are not a bad person for being upset that you were hurt. Fuck decency and respect. That all died the day they decided to cross you over and over. Your anger and your emotions are powerful and they are allowed to be expressed.

❥ 𝐍𝐘𝐌𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘

be the manic pixie dream girl that you fucking ought to be...

Based on the name alone, I didn't think I would love NYMPHOLOGY as much as I do now. Prepare for me to also go on a massive rant for this song. Now, I know a lot of this song references Greek mythology. But, as a person who got a kick out of consuming Lolita analysis' as a teenager, my brain can't help but draw comparisons to Lolita's main characters. Like I heard the lyrics, "Call me your nymph, / Praise me for martyr, praise me for sin" and, "Auctioned to a selfish man who thinks that he's the prophecy," and went, "Oh my god...Humbert Humbert????" But this song definitely commentates on a larger social trend. And that is know-it-all man children who victimize women who are ten times more interesting and compassionate than them. Which is an experience that way too many AFAB folks can relate to. Similar to EVIL, the first words I can think of to describe this one are angry, empowering, and earnest. On a real note, I love the way that Melanie makes it very clear that there's no point in blaming yourself if you've fallen into this kind of situation. I've had many conversations with friends who've shared this kind of experience and the first thing we all do is think of ways we fucked up. But at the end of the day, we loved earnestly and that shouldn't have been used against us. Not only that, but we can continue to be the manic pixie dream girls that we once were, but this time for ourselves (btw, the AMULET outro at the end slaps and I love how it connects to EVIL).

❥ 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐘𝐂𝐋𝐄

womb shedding any lessons, making room for blessings...

I'm about to go on a hell of a rant for this song too. I cannot describe how frustrated I got at all the folks using the snippet of MOON CYCLE on TikTok and going, "Oh, I guess Portals won't be skipless lmao." I was a MOON CYCLE Stan from day one and I take such pride in it. Not only does this serve as a fun little diss track on Oliver Tree but it is also a song that makes me feel like...wow. I am a being that has a period. That's kind of fucking cool. And this is something I've struggled to be okay with for literally almost ten years now. There's something incredibly empowering in how Melanie's art has recontexualized gender and expression for me. This is something I could talk about for forever, but I have always felt very removed from the concept of femininity. Between being a plus sized person and having never really fit into the classical definition of femininity in the first place, Melanie manages to reframe femininity in a way that isn't dependent on misogyny or comparison. It's beautiful. And I love her endlessly for giving me a song that listen to when that period depression is hitting hard and I wanna visualize a man who is down bad for period sex. Thank you, Mother Melanie.

❥ 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐄𝐁

no one can leave once they merge...

Most of my initial love for SPIDER WEB came purely from my ADHD ass brain going "ooooo fun instrumental!!!!" Truly...put an instrumental that scratches the neurodivergent urge in brain in my lap and I will be playing that funky noise on repeat forever. However, I have since read a little more into the background of this song. However, with the added context of this song being about social media makes every lyric hits that much harder. It also really explains Melanie's reluctance to be active on social media outside of artistic purposes. The parallel she draws between a spider web and the tantalizing but destructive draw of social media is actually brilliant and I love her for it (I say as I write a Tumblr review for her album lmao whooo no one say anything to me).

❥ 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑

you are the light, i've been searching for forever...

Based upon just the snippet of this song that was released, I didn't think this one would rank super high on my list? Like I loved the snippet, don't get me wrong! But the whole song continues to grow on me the more I listen to it. I think this is closest we get lyrically to peace and happiness on Portals. And I think it's grown on me so much because it reflects so much of the personal growth I've made in the past year. It perfectly describes the relief and comfort you take in finding people who genuinely give you hope for living after spending so long being devoid of it. Those kinds of people are rejuvenating, refreshing, and healing; they're showers of pure light.

❥ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇

i'll be meeting you here every time...

This opener is nothing short of perfect in my eyes. It's effective at giving the listener a taste of the themes that Melanie touches on in the rest of this album. Narratively, it functions as our introduction to Crybaby's new form. But in a real sense, it's Melanie reintroducing herself after a three year hiatus since K-12. Using this as the first single before the release of the album was actually brilliant and it makes me glad that Melanie's label is finally seemingly putting more into the marketing of her music? Overall, a powerful and iconic opener to this era.

❥ 𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐋 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

but i'm more than than, more than that...

Now I've been obsessed with the prelude snippet of this song since the Hatching clip was released about a month or so ago. In this, Melanie is challenging the subject of the song to widen their tunnel vision; to look at her in a deeper way than just purely superficial aspects. This is a theme that she's touched on a little bit in some of her other music (see K-12's Lunchbox Friends). But here is where she also plants the idea that underestimating her isn't just a mistake, it is dangerous. This underlying darkness and danger is expanded upon beautifully in NYMPHOLOGY and EVIL (Also the chanting at the end gives me such goosebumps, holy shit, I love it).

❥ 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐃

i fear i won't live to see the day tomorrow...

VOID is the track that really kicks off the pop-punk and pop-rock influences of this album. And apparently this is the first song Melanie produced completely on her own!! Which makes complete sense considering how personal the lyrics come across. Narratively VOID fits snuggly alongside DEATH. It is Crybaby grappling with her anxiety and insecurities after going through rebirth.

❥ 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐍𝐗

how stupid, selfish baby...

As a person who has had to calm articulate themselves through many arguments with folks who just yell a lot of nothing at you...this one slaps. There's something kind of reassuring with Melanie continually emphasizing the importance of being empathetic, thoughtful, and communicative through her music. Mostly because sometimes it's easy to get exhausted being that way. But her eloquent lyricism and her ability to mesh metaphors into her music absolutely convinces me that those abilities are valuable and I should be proud of them in myself.

❥ 𝐅𝐀𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐄

gather me, all of we, everyone...

Genius describes FAERIE SOIRÉE as Crybaby on a mushroom trip, trying to escape the hallucinations before ultimately giving into the magic. Which...yeah. That kind of makes sense. Melanie's vocals exude this ethereal, dreamlike quality that is only elevated by the vocaloid interlude at the end. The interlude portion is actually one of my favorite parts lyrically as it builds more of the mythical, mystical vibe from this era by suggesting that all beings are connected in some way or another.

❥ 𝐋𝐄𝐄��𝐇𝐄𝐒

i guess that is the luck of the draw...

LEECHES is another song that touches on the effects of fame; something that Melanie has written about previously with Show and Tell. Except where Show and Tell seemed to focus more on fans and media people who demand too much of celebrities, LEECHES describes a more sinister type of creature. In my opinion, it's about people who maybe have used Melanie in the past to either leech off of whatever she could provide them. For me, I think the most memorable part of this song is her projection? I adore how assertive her voice sounds during the chorus, as opposed to the breathy quality of her verses.

❥ 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐁

cut the cord, i'm coming...

I feel kind of bad ranking this one so low? But basically every song on this album is a fucking banger in its own way and this is one that is simply a liiiiittle less memorable to me than the others. However, that doesn't mean I'm ignorant of its importance to the album's narrative. The main motif of the album is rebirth. We started with death and we now end with life, all because of the womb. The bit I adore most is how the outro parallels the intro of DEATH. It really highlights the cyclical process of life and death and stresses that there really is no end to growth. The main point of this album is that life is all just energy being repurposed over and over and over again; we are constantly growing and evolving.

❥ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐓

stretching my self worth just like you usually do...

Okay. So I love this song. Truly. I love every song on this album. And I understand both the narrative and literal functions of this song. However. The one aspect that makes me kind of cringe is the bone crushing beat. But that's just because I'm a squeamish little baby and that sound is a little too good for my liking. However, I still wouldn't skip it. This song makes up for the squishy and crunchy sounds with Melanie's warped and maniacal laugh. You can tell that they really don't give a fuck about conforming to anyone's standards. There's something so unhinged about this song that I can't help but love it anyways.

[dykeza]

Edit: this post is too long it’s going under read more so I don’t feel as evil tagging it okay thanks. Hi guys it’s me the asshole again can I say smth possibly controversial and tone deaf? Okay thanks .

I think a terrible amount of backlash towards SSO is done under the assumption that SSO is a small team that became a large Horse Game Corporation with a monopoly on Horse Games in the last 13 years . This is not true. SSO is still a small game worked on by a small team (there’s frequent posts on their instagram featuring basically the whole team— including like the Singular Lady that models all the horses. Like that’s One Person, Maybe More but Not A Lot More). Just bc it has more polish does not mean it’s suddenly not made by a small team in a likely rented office space who strive to pay their workers fairly. Lots of ppl on Reddit saying shit like “I wonder if the higher-ups at the sso company make it so the designers can’t do whatever they want :(“ There aren’t any higher-ups. It’s important to me that you know that. SSO hiking prices and lowering rewards and releasing smaller and smaller updates CAN be a bit shitty, I’m not saying it’s not. I’m saying there’s nuance that’s lost when a bunch of primarily older teenaged and adult women and queer ppl— (I am aware how insane that sounds but I don’t think many straight cis dudes are rockin with the horse game, and if they are they’re not the majority) —are yelling in Instagram comment sections about how shitty the SSO dev team is because they (checks notes) have to raise the prices of their horse game because they have to maintain a livable wage for themselves, pay rent and utility bills on their machines and spaces that they need to even make the game, and pay for marketing and other expenses, in a global post-Covid hyper-inflated economy. So woe is you that star coins cost more. A 10k star coin gift card used to be 108 dollars around my neck of the woods (America) and now it’s 79.99. That’s less money btw in case you can’t do math because you’re too blinded by your rage over game designers, artists, developers, and coders being paid more than peanuts to update the same fucking game for 13 years WEEKLY. Okay man. Whatever. Old man yelling at cloud over here. A lot of this has been building for months-years now but the Medieval Arena update really like, made it apparent to me for some reason. Maybe it’s cuz I like the update I think it’s cute I think it’s nice and small and quaint. But like— it’s So Obvious that the Medieval Arena and all its little additions and the future ones were made by a small team of people who just, wanted to have a fun Renaissance Fair in their game that they make. Bc yknow, again, they’re updating and making a game that they are paid to update and make because they want to update and make it. Sorry you don’t like shitty jousting mechanics and a cute lil fairground . Do you also hate the sun for shining? Oh you miss the old events? Oh you hate that sso is all corporate and lifeless now? Should we tell everyone? Should we invite Bella Hadid? Have you even once considered that maybe the people who make the game are People making a Game, and they can do whatever they want with their game? You, yes you, can also do whatever you want. You have the hands that create. You don’t get mad at an artist with a canvas and paints for doing art the wrong way, right? So why is it okay to get mad at an artist with a computer and a coding software for doing art the wrong way? Every horse, building, character, clothing, tack, tree, bush, boat, car, and all the hundreds of other things in this game are made by hand by dedicated people but yeah, you’re mad that they Chose To Do Something THEY Wanted To Do over doing the thirteenth birthday event in a row to appease a bunch of people who never seem to be happy with their art anyway. Fuck off. Sorry for yelling. I’m not sorry but sorry for yelling. Please die.

[measuringbliss]

Spider-Man Read-Through 017: Let's get smashed (ASM 116-118)

MASTERPOST

So John Romita Sr. just died. A great artist. I don't need to tell you, by this point.

1973 is here! Now, as I said, I'm very familiar with the few upcoming years. But will I look at them differently? Hmm!!!

The issue recaps what happened last time, and it feels surreal to now see exactly what happened. It's pretty much how I imagined it, except slightly more complicated.

Richard Raleigh is back! Or rather, here. What's up with that?

Well, turns out issues 116-118 re-publish Spectacular Spider-Man Magazine #1 (that special in black and white!) but edit it to fit continuity. In the original print (of ish 116), Stan Lee explains that SSM#1 was published around an election year, and they felt like the new election year was apropos for a lil' lifting, handled script-wise by my baby Gerry Conway, and visuals-vise by John Romita Sr. naturally.

So let's read them!

Ah, Romita. Your art never disappointed.

Maybe it's my contemporary look, but this single panel on the right raises so many alarm bells it's hilarious. I've head that kind of words coming from my politicians. *sigh*

The GwenPeter drama continues, and with the recent realization that Romita worked on romances, it all makes a lot of sense.

Man, I'm sure I commented on that back when---

Yup.

It's very nice to see how much Romita's art improved (more perspectives! And the colors help him a lot too.

You know, as we get on to issue 117, I feel like Conway's writing is easier to understand for me, as-in, not difficult at all, whereas Stan's writing was often annoying to parse due to some expressions. You really see the difference. Of course, Stan wrote the original issue, but Conway pretty clearly rewrote pretty much everything.

We've got a new masked baddie, and he reminds me of when the Kingpin's son was the antagonist for a bit. I hope we get to see him and his mother again!

Back to the gentleman's club (with no George Stacy in sight, since he died), Norman is still interesting and Robbie continues to be the MVP.

Yeah, Pete, things haven't really changed.

...I'm saying that, but actually, it's the opposite in my country now. Presidential candidates are about appealing to the voting majority... that is, old people. That is, people who don't work anymore but support the government's effort to raise the age of pension YES THIS WAS A POLITICAL POST FROM THE START MUAHAHAHA no but seriously. OLD PEOPLE WHO AREN'T GONNA BE AFFECTED BY IT ARE THE ONES MOST SUPPORTING IT. what a bunch of assholes.

anyway.

The multiple references to Peter's ulcer make more sense now too! Forgot about that. Poor baby. (Honey you're about to live through the worst two years of your life, and I will be seated. With popcorn. Actually, I have a coke and crackers. Yes, it's not even noon yet. Who cares. I'm a freelancer. My schedule is random.

Robertson's digging into Raleigh makes him a prime target (as usual), so the Disruptor's about to attack him with the Smasher. But wait... Huh?

In the reader's letters, people are praising Gerry Conway and overall issue 113. Which. Yes. He gets the soap opera. He gets it!!!

In issue 118, Robertson tries his best against the Disruptor, and to be fair, his best is a whole lot. Of course, he isn't fit to fight him, but still!

As the final battle, rages on, those messages down there interspede, and it's a genius move. It wasn't present in the original and I've got to say, it's excellent. It gives pacing, foreboding, and foreshadows what's about to happen...

The Disruptor says "he won't run off with his tail between his legs like a jackal" and oh boy, did they know about the upcoming villain of the same name? It's a line present in the original, but I can't help but wonder...

Of course, the Disruptor was actually Raleigh all along (it couldn't be anybody else), which makes his behavior kind of wonky, but oh well.

This set of issues is fine, I love me some intrigue, and we get to see the supporting cast, but it lacked something. As to know what, exactly, I'm not sure.

In the letters, Bill Creighton complains that the supporting cast hasn't had much appearances recently (before the previous batch of issues) and Stan reassures him that Conway, as was already seen, is attached to showing more of them. He also teases a bigger part for Harry soon... and laughs maniacally. Muahaha.

[princessofprocrastination]

Not The Same (GeorgeNotFound)

summary : you put out a song, but it attracted the wrong type of crowd and caused too many misunderstandings.

trigger warnings : threats (including death and doxing), panic attacks, taking of meds. 

"you're THOSE type of fans, huh?" you read the comments on your newest song release.

and that was the start of your downfall.

-

you and your dad really enjoyed singing. at any opportunity you two got, you would be doing a duet.

whether that would be at at a close relative's wedding or your at home karaoke set up, you two knew how to entertain people.

though singing was your passion, you ended up being too busy with school and trying to graduate with a diploma to even think about singing again.

but you swore to make a career of your singing after high school. you just loved it too much.

but then, you didn't go to college for music, which pretty much shocked your parents and your friends since they knew your only passion in life was singing.

but you took a different direction. you still wanted to sing and you were trying your hardest to find a way to make that your career.

someday, anyway. but you needed to have a plan to fall back into in case anything goes wrong.

you were a realist, after all.

so off to college you went.

you spent long hours studying for tests after tests, sat through hours of lectures, did endless amounts of projects.

in the end, it was all worth the wait and fatigue. you graduated top of your class.

you went off to be an intern, clocked in more hours before you could fully go into the next phase of your life.

and after those long hours, you finally made the decision (with the support of your parents) to take a gap year.

but before anyone panics. your gap year was not all fun in games where you took to rest and lay in bed all day.

you took the gap year to see if the music industry fits you. to see if you even had the chance to succeed.

and if it did, you could finally have your dream job. but even if it didn't you were not going to be upset if you needed to fall back onto your backup plan.

in the duration of the gap year, you took voice lessons, and poetry classes for song writing.

and with whatever you have learnt, you took that into writing songs that you felt really relate to your life experiences.

so you spend at least a couple months writing multiple songs.

after almost 2 years, you finally came out with your first song. and it definitely got recognition. more than you thought you'd get, if you were being completely honest.

and that was what pushed you to sit your ass back on your desk to write more, and go into your makeshift studio and make the words into songs.

your parents were ecstatic to hear that you were finally doing the things you loved. and you knew you'd never get this far if it weren't for your family's support.

and so your music journey began.

it was going well for years. you were finally happy doing the one thing you enjoyed doing.

and you definitely think you were good at it. seeing and hearing the positive feedbacks from your family, friends and listeners. 

you felt good. 

but you lost that feeling when you came out with a new single, called ‘fan of you’. 

you spent a while working hard on that song and you felt relieved when it was finally released. it was like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. 

and you weren’t sure how one thing led to another, if you were being honest. at first, you received good feedback for your new songs. you even gained new listeners and your spotify rank rised. 

but then it didn’t anymore. 

your twitter flooded with mentions and your instagram full of tagged pictures and dms by accounts you’ve never heard of. 

but you noticed a similarity with all of the spam. a guy name george. georgenotfound for short.

you being you, you looked into it. and that was when all of the information hit you. and all you had to look up was your name on twitter, and there it was, the longest thread of tweets you have ever seen in your life. 

you took time to read it all, trying to make sure you didn’t miss anything crucial. 

there must be an understanding. you didn’t know this guy name george. you’ve seen his face on pinterest once a while when you scrolled, yes. but you never looked into him. 

this amazing person took their time to gather every bit of information there was about the scandal, which you were grateful for, or else you’d be scouring the internet for hours. 

to summarise what you read, there was this artist by the name of tia jade who came out with a song a few months prior to yours called ‘just a fan.’ 

it was a good song, some say, and you could agree. it was professionally written and produced. but many fans of george found out that the song was about him. 

not just about him, but about her falling in love with him, when she has never met him. and when his fans started to really listen and analyse the song, it got creepier. 

basically, the song was about a fan falling in love with a celebrity/content creator and that they want to know them beyond their persona online. 

but tia had apologised a little after the song came out, saying that she made that song based on a fan liking a content creator, and not about her falling for george. 

but when you read enough of the issue, it definitely did seem like she was making that song to tell her story about falling for george. but she obviously needed an excuse to cover it up. 

hence the apology. 

and then you read about how they analysed your song, too.

they compared your song to tia’s and found it to have similar stories. stories about how a normal girl is falling in love with the man by the name of george, who had millions of followers on all social medias. 

and if you admitted it to yourself, your song did seem to come out that way. especially if your mentality had been there. clearly your song could have been interpreted in many different ways. 

you scrolled to the very bottom of the thread where there was a video of the man himself, george. he was addressing the issue. 

“i don’t know how this happened twice. i thought once was weird enough, but.” he paused, focusing on building something on his screen. 

“having heard of a song being about me again now makes my skin crawl.” he finished. it was short but enough to make his fans understand where he was coming from. 

you scrolled further to see the replies of the thread. you wanted to know what were people saying about it. 

and you definitely regretted your decision to do that. 

threats everywhere. death threats, threats of beating you up, threats of doxing you. god the negative comments were drowned by the one’s that genuinely thought nothing wrong of your song. 

you called you mom. this was the time you needed her advice. you needed to be told what to do. you didn’t want to accidentally trigger people. 

you and her were on the phone for hours. she listened to you cried to her. she heard the painful sobs that came out of your mouth whenever you reminded yourself of what people were calling you on the internet. 

she heard you cry silently on call when you saw your address and phone number being leaked on twitter. 

but even through all of that, you joked around with your mom. “well, this was a hell of a way to be trending.” 

you did what she told you to do. get a new phone number, stay in a hotel for a couple days while you try to settle the raging crowd of georgenotfound fans down. 

in the span of a couple weeks, you got yourself a new number, a new house and a new car. you weren’t taking any chances. 

you told no one besides your mom of the new changes, just to be safe. 

and no, the threats did not cease. at all. these people did not have a life, constantly up in your dms, telling you to jump off a cliff or them hoping that a robber stabs you and leaves you dying. 

you took your time trying to figure out a way to talk to george. or a way to speak out about this. 

you didn’t want to write a half-assed notes app paragraph apologising when- first of all, you had nothing to apologise for and second, you had too much to say to fit it all in a notes app. 

lucky for you, you didn’t need to start your own channel or make a sit down video on your own. 

your recording label had brought up the idea of a documented series about you and how you became a singer about a year ago, and only started filming and posting the episodes a couple months prior on youtube. 

so you took the series to your advantage. you pitched in the idea to your manager, to which she agreed to immediately, knowing that it was best you talked about it now. 

this was how it played out on the perspective of viewers who watched that episode. 

“bless you.” your producer says after you paused your singing in the mic as you stopped to sneeze. 

you gave him a smile and a thumbs up from inside the booth. 

the camera cuts to another clip. 

the cameraman pans as they captured movers coming in and out of your old house, picking up your heavy furniture and boxes into large trucks to move into the new place.

 it cuts again. this time it shows you scrolling on your phone with a focused face while your manager types something vigorously on her computer. 

the camera tries to focus on your phone, and sees that you were on twitter, reading a lot of tweets under your name. 

you exited the app and slide it away, going into youtube next, reading the comments on your song ‘fan of you’. 

you scrolled far, clicking on some of the comments, trying to read the replies to certain comments you saw. 

the camera cuts into a black screen. which then cuts again into a new scene, where you sat on your new kitchen counter talking to your mother, who sat on the chair in front of you. 

your hair was up in a ponytail. a messy one. you were wearing sweatpants and a hoodie that seemed far too big on you, and your feet covered with fluffy socks.

you were nodding to whatever she was saying to you. it was clear your mind was elsewhere as your eyes were unfocused. 

the scene cuts again. 

you were seen on the couch, your legs were tucked into your arms and your head down, body shaking. it was obvious you were crying. 

you were alone, your mother no where to be seen. 

that was the first time the camera caught you crying. 

the scene cuts as you were going to get up from the couch. 

now, you were in the kitchen again, opening the refrigerator to take a water bottle, then walking to your room upstairs. 

the camera follows behind you slowly into your room. 

it hadn’t been the cleanest. there were a couple shirts on the floor, your bed undone, cups on your side table, your laptop open on your desk. 

you were seen opening a drawer, taking out a small white bottle. you unscrewed the bottle and took out 2 pills, popping them in your mouth, drinking water straight away after that to swallow. 

the scene cuts again. 

this time, you were seated on the couch in the studio, the atmosphere dark and quiet. 

your hair was more kept this time, being help up in a clip. 

you were wearing straight jeans and a slightly oversized sweatshirt. you looked more refreshed this time. but it was obvious you hadn’t slept in a while because of your eyes.

your eyes that usually held a lot of happiness and joy turned dull. 

“it’s been a while since i’ve spoken to a camera.” you offered a small smile. your song ‘just a fan’ was playing in the background of the clip. 

the scene cuts again. 

“when i released that song, i was genuinely proud of the work i had done.” you paused for a while. besides the song playing in the background, it was silent. 

“but i guess the joy didn’t last very long.” the scene cuts there. 

it transitioned to a collage of what people were saying about you. it showed clips of people talking about it on youtube. they even showed george talking about it. 

and it cuts again. 

it showed a different clip this time. a clip of your ex boyfriend and you at the beach on a picnic, that was taken by a close friend of yours. 

this was when you were still in college. 

it showed all the fun memories you two made while you were still together. 

it showed a video of him studying in the library, flipping through his papers and scrolling through his laptop. it was clear he was hard at work, not noticing you filming him. 

but then the scene cuts again. and the music turned somber. 

your ex boyfriend’s grave. 

it was the day you were visiting him. you sat down next to his stone, a blanket under you. 

you were just staring at his stone, not moving. 

and it cuts again. 

“he was one of the most driven person i have ever met.” you told the camera. 

“he knew when to be serious and when to have fun.” you looked down in your hands and played with your rings. 

“all he ever talked about was becoming a surgeon. he worked hard in his intern years and continued being passionate through his residency.” you spoke up. 

“people had only nice things to say about him. the only bad thing they would say about him is that he can be pretty uptight sometimes, especially when he was stressed about something.” you laughed a little. 

“i was a huge fan of him, even when we just saw each other in the hallways. he’s just amazing. i’ve always wanted to be just like him.”

“i wanted to write a song about him but i didn’t the song to be sad.” you said. 

“and that was when the song ‘fan of you’ was created. 

the scene cuts there and goes into another. 

you were in the recording booth again, this time, you were singing into the mic. 

the camera pans to your producer and manager dancing and bobbing their heads to the beat. 

the scene cuts, officially ending it with a black screen with ‘the end’ in a fancy white font. 

you busied yourself with writing new songs as your name got trended again on twitter. 

and george has never felt worse about himself ever in his entire life. 

-

he watched the episode as soon as dream sent it to him. 

“you’re an asshole, george.” dream sends to him, along with the link of the video on youtube. 

as the video ends, he decides to read the comments, wondering what it was like down there. 

it was the worse mistake he had ever made in a while. 

but he knew he deserved it. he did assumed it was about him, just like the last song made with a drawing of his glasses as their cover photo on spotify. 

this time, there was genuinely no reason to think that this song was about him, or anyone with a following whatsoever. he just believed what his chat told him. 

sure, there were some familiarity of the character in your song and him, but the world did have 7.6 billion people living on it. 

“so, here i am apologising.” george says to his camera, live. his tone was very sincere and apologetic. 

“this shouldn’t have gotten this far. they shouldn’t have gotten threats at all, let alone death threats. they shouldn’t have woken up to the world knowing where they live and what their phone number is.” 

“and if you’re watching. i sincerely apologise. i clearly was full of myself.” george finishes. ending the live with a small wave. 

and were you watching? hell yes. 

and that was the day the two of you followed each other on instagram. 

he used your songs as his intros of his live, (with your permission, of course.) you showed in your documentary that you were watching whenever he was live or watching his youtube videos. 

and that was the start to a beautiful relationship. 

you sat on the chair, going live. you waved as people started joining. it went from hundreds, to thousands in seconds. 

as you were talking and clicking on your keyboard and mouse, playing a game, you felt arms around your shoulders. 

you smiled, yet continued playing. 

“why are you live on my account?” he laughs. 

you disconnected the headphones so that he could hear what you were hearing. 

“george, you’re being replaced.” dream said on discord. 

george smiles, giving you a kiss on the top of your head. “that was well deserved.” 

[antiloreolympus]

10 Anti LO Asks

1. im not against the idea of red eyes for everyone (esp bc hades and ares already had therm before P anyway) but i do agree any emphasis and symbolism they had is just gone bc RS slaps them in whenever and seems to only use them as an aesthetic choice now over a marker of power/rage, so they dont have any impact anymore, especially in regards to persephone and her "dread queen" persona. its really disappointing  so many interesting ideas are set up in LO only for RS to ruin them down the line.

2. tbh most of these "dramatic" panels would have worked so much better in her old style, bc her current one is way too cartoony for me to take seriously.

3. oh ... oh why does "titan" hades just look like kronos with big persephone just lighter rhea ... why of all parallels to go for rachel goes with making the leads be copies of the couple full of abuse?? whats going on in that lily white head of hers to think thats a great idea for the main couple 💀

4. rachel, we all know you stole most of your ideas from tumblr and saw what made hxp popular on here, making them carbon copies of each other is literally the exact reverse of why people like hxp. theyre supposed to be opposites, no clones of each other down to backgrounds, powers, and personalities. at this point persephone will just turn blue to really hammer home theyre the same person with hades getting the emphasis as the "important" one.

5. lmao anyone wanna bet hades being able to be big now will somehow be used along with giant horny persephone to defeat kronos in some underwhelming version of a godly kaiju battle.

6. i mean rachel trying to "make parallels" with persephone only made her seem like hades is still in love with hera and persephone is just a replacement to her and that hades is repeating the same cycle of toxicity he had with minthe with persephone as well, all because rachel does not know how to use actual parallels. things like this makes it very clear rachel is a not a writer but no one on her team seems to be able to get through to her to actually help her with this reoccurring issue.

7. I feel like a big issue too with LO is RS thinks making HxP “perfect” makes them more interesting, which it really doesn’t? If they have every advantage, what is there to hope they overcome? They’re the richest, most powerful, most desirable characters (according to RS) in the whole series, so what exactly are they overcoming? There is no stakes, no god can go against them, most people support them with no exception, they have the most unique and powerful abilities, etc etc etc, so what exactly is there to root for when we know they succeed anyway? No new plot she tries to set up can trick us into thinking maybe they might fail because we know she just can’t write that, so any interest that could have been there is dead on arrival. This could have worked maybe in the first year, but not going into its fourth. 

8. “The trial will be back in two days” aka 6 months 

9. Any receipts of LO fans hating on other we toon creators? I’ve heard time and time again that LO fans keep attacking other comic artists (esp. the LGBT BIPOC ones) but I’ve never dig deep enough to find proof.

From OP: From what I hear, it happens in the webtoons comment section but I don’t think I’d be able to sit through an entire comment section. Plus, by now they should be removed. I heard it happens to other H/P creators like Sigeel and Gaumeo. It could be happening to creators who do the monochrome thing for characters as well. If someone has any screenshots, please do share.

-----FP Spoilers/Mention-----

10. FP SPOILERS!!

So uh.....Persephone's seriously thinking more about making a child for a 2000-old rich slave owner creep than about her own mother??? Who is under arrest now??? And she should be too?? I don't know I.....how Rachel expects us to empathize with Persephone if she's not only a spoiled brat, but also a very shitty person who thinks only about how she wants to f*ck with daddy smurf?? Heck, does she even know what a sympathetic character is bc at this point I'm starting to doubt how human compassion works outside the #relatable in the comment section 

[chudleycanonficfest]

young dumb thrills

Day 26, Post #2 by @accio-broom

Title: young dumb thrills Author/Artist: accio-broom Pairing: Gryffindor pals Prompt: Studying together Rating: T Trigger Warning(s) (if any): Ron likes to swear, a lot. Also, the lads enjoy not speaking very nicely about the women in their year.

“Merlin, this potions essay is a pile of wank. I'm so fucking bored.”

Seamus snaps his book shut, his Irish lilt filling the dorm room and disturbing the peace. Until the rude intrusion, Ron had been attempting to write a Transfiguration essay on the benefits of Non-verbal spells, although he was struggling without Hermione’s usual help.

Four heads, belonging to the various bodies strewn around the place, lift from their books and parchment. The sixth-year Gryffindors throw frowns and obscenities at their friend.

“Well, it was your idea for us to do something together,” Dean comments, letting his head loll to the side to rest on his arms, his eyes closing.

“Yeah, but when I suggested it, I had a night of debauchery and booze on my mind. Not being shut up here on a Friday night.”

Ron laughs and abandons his parchment on the bedroom floor. He rolls off his tummy then wriggles into a sitting position, his back flush against his trunk. It allows him a better view of his dorm mates.

Seamus is sat up in his bed, resting against the headboard, his now shut Potions book by his feet. Dean sits in one of the window seats whilst Neville is perched next to his bedside table, crooning at his Mimbulus Mimbletonia. Harry is in one of the cosy armchairs next to the fire, switching his obsessive gaze between the Marauder’s Map and the Half-Blood Prince’s Potions book.

“Debauchery?” Ron scoffs. “What kind of stuff did you think we’d be getting up to stuck in Gryffindor tower? You tried sneaking in the Firewhisky, but you were thick enough to let Filch catch you. McGonagall has got us on lockdown because of you, and we can’t even sneak out the window for a fly ‘cos it’s pissing down outside.”

Frowning, Seamus retorts, “At least I tried. Anyways, you and Potter don’t seem to have any difficulties getting yourselves into trouble, despite the rules and detentions and any other fucking thing the staff throw at you.”

Harry, who has been a silent observer up until now, finally pipes up, “You know, I’d gladly trade places with you, Seamus, if it means getting a quiet year without Voldemort trying to kill me.”

The other four boys shudder at Harry’s use of You-Know-Who’s real name. Once he has recovered, Seamus waves a dismissive hand before flopping down onto his stomach.

“Yeah, yeah. We all know that Voldie prefers to wait until the end of the year before trying to kill you. You could at least enjoy yourself up until then.” A heavy sigh escapes his lips. “How did it come to this, lads? We're all virile, good looking fellas. Well, apart from Nev. Yet, here we are on a Friday night, with only each other for company.”

“Oi!” Neville frowns, swivelling to face his friends with his hands on his hips. “At least I managed to get a date for the Yule Ball. Dean didn’t go with anyone.”

“Yeah, but I have a girlfriend now.”

Dean’s cheeks darken as Ron’s eyes narrow. The redhead’s stomach churns. Sure, he’s adjusted to catching Dean snogging his sister in the common room now, but it doesn’t mean he enjoys it. He knows the type of stuff Dean gets up to, the sort of things he says behind closed doors. He’d rather Ginny didn’t get involved with a guy like Dean, but Ron knows it’s out of his control.

“Out of all of us,” Dean continues, “It’s only Weasley and me who have birds.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Ron joins in, mostly to distract himself from his overprotective urges. Ginny is more than capable of looking after herself, and she’s told him enough fucking times, too. “And I could be downstairs with Lav right now, but you were so adamant that we were going to have a good night. Anyway, you can take the piss out of Neville all you want, but I bet you haven’t even snogged a girl, Seamus.”

The Irish Gryffindor’s eyes brighten with glee. “Yeah, I have. Your girl.”

Ron isn’t surprised at the emptiness he feels at the jibe. His feelings for Lavender fizzled out ages ago, and he’s been trying to finish things for weeks. The only problem is he can’t seem to say or do the right thing to scare her away. He should probably come out and say it, try this honesty thing Hermione is always harping about, but Ron likes his balls attached to his body. Plus, it’s kind of nice having a girlfriend and feeling like someone wants him.

Still, he has to keep up appearances. He reaches behind his trunk and fishes out one of his trainers from under his bed before hurling it at Seamus. The guy moves fast, rolling to the side to avoid being hit in the head as he bursts out laughing.

“And a good kisser she is too,” he adds.

“Who do you reckon is the best snogger out of the whole of Gryffindor?” Dean muses.

Ron mutters, “Aren’t you still dating my sister, Dean?” 

He knows his anger is irrational, Dean has done nothing wrong, but the images of the guy snogging Ginny then moving on to the next girl to compare them fills his brain, making him feel sick.

Seamus interrupts, still laughing. “For the guys? Then it’s me for sure. But I don’t know who’s the best out of the girls. I’ve snogged quite a lot of them. Some of them are amazing, and others are shit.”

“Fuck off have you,” Dean laughs too. “You’ve snogged Lavender, and that’s it.”

“Nah, I’m being honest with you. Weasley turned me down. It’s only her and Granger I haven’t snogged, truth be told.”

Ron sits bolt upright, all his fury at Dean forgotten as his heart pounds an irregular beat against his ribcage. However, he tries to arrange his face into a calm look. A few times, his secret crush on Hermione has almost been exposed, mostly via mutterings in his sleep. But so far, he’s managed to keep a firm lid on it, or so he believes.

“I don’t think Hermione has snogged anyone,” says Neville.

Dean shakes his head. “I’d put five knuts on her having snogged someone. She went to the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum, after all.”

“Doesn’t mean she kissed him.” Seamus shrugs.

Harry pipes up again. “She did.” He blushes as all eyes settle on him. “Only a small one, though.”

The rest of the room erupts in fits of laughter, but Ron can’t hear it over the roar of his heart in his ears. He digs his fingernails into his leg, ignoring the flare of pain as they break the skin. So, Harry knows that Hermione snogged Vicky, too? How many people did Hermione tell? How the fuck could his best friend keep something like this from him? Why hasn’t anybody told him?

Out of the corner of his eye, Ron can see that Harry is staring at him, but he refuses to meet the git’s gaze. His blood boils around his veins.

“She must be a good kisser then if she managed to keep Krum interested. Not exactly a looker, is she?” says Seamus, in between giggles.

Ron whips his head around to glare at Harry. Despite instigating this latest uproar, the specky git does nothing to stick up for their best friend. Their dorm mates are tearing apart Hermione’s honour right now, but Harry already has his nose buried back in that fucking map, tracing Draco’s path through the school. Harry is bloody obsessed with the Slytherin prick. He probably fucking fancies him.

“You can barely even see she has boobs when she’s in her jumper,” Dean agrees.

“Yeah, and don’t get me started on her hair.”

Neville frowns. “Now, come on, guys. I think you’re being a bit mean. Hermione’s alright.”

“Oohhh, she’s alright, is she?” Seamus rounds on Neville now.

Dean joins in, wiping his eyes. “Aww, that’s nice. At least someone likes her.”

No longer in control of his reactions, Ron jumps to his feet, trembling hands clenched at his sides.

“Enough!” he roars, loud enough so that everyone has their attention pinned on him. “Leave her alone! What the fuck has she ever done to you?” He gestures around the dormitory, daring any of them to speak up. “Don’t get her involved in your bullshit talk.”

“Oh, so it’s alright for us to discuss snogging your girlfriend, but not Hermione Granger?” Seamus slides off his bed, squaring up to Ron. “You need to work out where your loyalties lie. If Lavender found out, she wouldn’t be pleased.”

Ron eyes his friend, trying to determine if he should punch him. After a moment’s deliberation, he decides it’s not worth it. Ron is a prefect and is supposed to be setting a good example. Plus, there’d probably be a fight, and he isn’t sure he has the energy for that tonight. Seamus has a good right hook, after all.

“Fuck off.” Ron pushes past Seamus and strides towards the door, yanking it open. He leaves the dormitory without looking back, pulling the door closed behind him so hard, he’s sure everyone in Hogsmeade can hear the resounding thunk. The dormitory bursts into another round of hysterical laughter, fuelling Ron’s rage.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he reaches the common room with a loud huff, only to meet a startled Hermione at the foot of the staircase. Ron’s face floods with heat as she eyes him up and down, a disparaging look on her face.

“Ron, wh—”

He doesn’t give her the chance to finish her question.

“Leave me alone.”

Stomping towards the portrait hole, Ron barks at the Fat Lady to open without saying please, before heading out. He picks a random direction, then walks.

Fuck the lot of them.

Fuck his friends for being dicks about Hermione and girls in general. No wonder Harry wanted to keep out of it all. And fuck that specky git for not jumping to Hermione’s defence. Fuck Hermione for choosing now to break her months of silence, only to piss him off even more. But most of all, fuck his fucking feelings for making him react so defensively about the fucking witch in the first place. 

He’s never going to live this down, for fuck’s sake.

[willyoulovemeinthemorning]

The Prodigal Daughter Chapter 2/?

Story Summary: As the secret daughter of Jason Gideon, you’ve always had a certain proclivity towards profiling. After finishing the Academy, you finally have your chance in the BAU- only months after your dad’s passing. Will it all be too much? Will you find yourself sharing another proclivity with your father for a certain genius with big puppy dog eyes? A/N: Thank you all for the amazing response to the first chapter! This one came quickly and I just couldn't stop writing it! I can’t believe people asked to be tagged in this already, but I guess if you want to be tagged, let me know in the comments! shoutout to @candlesandsoftrain for beta-ing! Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
 Category: Fluff/getting to know you games with the team Content Warning: So much tension, mildly grumpy Spencer, sexually charged drinking games, etc. Later chapters will include NSFW Word Count: 7000+ (Sorry it really got away from me!)

Previous Chapter

Chapter 2

The rest of the day passed by with a lot of questions, a lot of pilfered off paperwork from each member of the team- it was your turn to help out with all there was to do today. Newbie had to be inducted somehow. Reid was the only one that didn’t offer you any of his- it probably had something to do with the fact that even though his pile was significantly larger than anyone else’s, he was getting through it almost at triple the speed. Dad had mentioned something about his quick reading skills, but you couldn’t remember the exact number of words he could read a second. That was a question you could ask him later, you reminded yourself.

Once Hotch’s voice sounded through the room signaling that it was time to head out for everyone, you could feel the energy in the room change. It was palpable. They clearly hadn’t gotten a chance to have a fun time with each other in a while.

You stood up and gathered your things slowly, letting everyone slowly filter out of the office. You had decided that you wanted to keep Dad's notebook in your go bag so you’d always have him with you on cases, but now as you had a moment alone, you slipped an old family picture of Dad, Stephen and yourself into your desk drawer, hiding under your files and paperwork. A little piece to always be here, in the bullpen, where he belonged.

You wiped a tear from your eye, and as you grabbed your bag to get going, you noticed Spencer watching you from the door. You smiled sheepishly at him. “Sorry, you didn’t have to wait for me. I just… wanted to take in the end of my first day. I’ve been waiting for this day a very long time. Didn’t think it would be quite this… uneventful, as far as BAU standards go, but I’m actually glad it was.” You said to him as you got closer, noticing him clutching his messenger bag.

Shrugging, he held the door open for you. “It’s not a problem. They get horse blinders when they finally get to go out together and forget that maybe some people don’t know where to go.” He pushed the button for the elevator. In this moment, you remembered what you’d said about comfortable silence. It was nice to be here with him, the hum of the AC around you, the sound of Spencer picking at something at the strap on his bag. You closed your eyes for a moment and took it all in… you could smell his cologne, he was so close to you. And something very reminiscent of… old books? He really must live in an apartment just surrounded by books.

“Thanks for waiting for me. I probably would have just called Unc-” You stopped yourself, hoping he didn’t notice. “Dave, if I got left behind. Since trying to go home would have resulted in being yelled at by him for a while.” You both entered the elevator, and he turned and looked at you as he pressed the button to go down to the ground floor.

“Dave?” He asked, eyebrow raised.

You blushed, shrugging. “I’ve known him for a long time. He’s a good family friend… through my mom. They knew each other when they were young.” God, you hated lying, but it was only a little bit of a lie. Your mom and Rossi DID know each other well, and they have known each other a long time. But Uncle Dave wasn’t a part of your circle because of your mom.

Spencer looked like he noticed the slight change in your tone, but he was polite enough not to press you for more. “Okay So the bar- it’s called The Greasy Pub and it’s on 7th. I’ll meet you there? I take the bus, so I’ll be a little later than everybody else.” He said, shifting his weight from side to side on his feet.

Your brows knit together, and you looked at him a little confused. “Why didn’t you hop in with someone else?”

The cutest blush stained his cheeks. “I have an eidetic memory, and I can remember what it felt like to be the new kid on this team like it happened yesterday. I hope to never let anyone feel the anxiety and fear of being left out like I did. I was also only 24 at the time, and was the youngest BAU member ever, so that didn’t help.”

More touched than you could lead on, you touched his bicep and squeezed it. “Thank you, that’s incredibly kind of you. I feel bad though, you lost a ride with one of your friends. Would… would you like a ride in my car? I’d hate for you to have to take the bus. I hated the bus when I had to take it. Did you know that out of all the bacteria found on New York City public transport, 32 per cent was associated with the gastrointestinal tract and 30 per cent was skin. Another 20 per cent was associated with the genital area.” You rattled off. Germs were a thing for you too, you just dealt with it and constantly washed your hands.

To say Spencer looked impressed would be an understatement, and the way his eye changed when you caught it… wow, you’d never felt a heat rage in your tummy like that look made you feel.

“It was actually 29 percent skin, mostly assumed to be hair follicles and from people scratching at anything itching them.” He said with a glint in his eye. You didn’t feel challenged, just… understood? And seen. “But yeah… I wouldn’t mind a ride, if you wouldn’t be opposed.”

You led him to where you parked once the elevator dinged, and you both got in and buckled up. Your favorite artist’s music immediately started playing, a lot of favorites from people who you’ve loved- you collected things that reminded you of those that were special to you.

You drove in comfortable silence, and though you both kept looking at eachother out of the corner of your eyes, neither of you said much. You’d never felt such automatic attraction to someone before. Could your view be skewed after so many years of stories and imagining him? Possibly. But the reality was so much better than your imagination ever could have put together.

When you arrived, Spencer led you both inside the bar, opening the door for you. It was immediately a sensory overload for you both, and you shifted a little closer to him subconsciously to quell your discomfort. His hand found its way to the small of your back, just the smallest touch, and you could have died right then and there. It was electric and somehow so soothing. You felt your breath even out, and your anxiety fall back like a distant memory. You looked up at him and smiled softly, finding he was already looking at you. Your eyes fell to his lips, which were the loveliest shade of pink and parted just a little, his tongue coming out to wet them as if they sensed the attention. You could have just leaned in a few inches… you just needed to get on your tip toes and you’d be right there…

“Pretty Boy! Y/N! We’re over here, little lovebirds!”

“Morgan, leave them alone!”

You snapped out of your reverie when you heard the voices of Derek Morgan and Emily Prentiss, the latter hitting the former in the arm yet again today. Spencer didn’t seem to mind, clearly used to the antics of his friends, but you were more or less a little red over it all. You were letting this little crush you had on the genius get a little too obvious, and you definitely needed to pull it back a little before you made a fool of yourself.

The two of you walked to the booth the others sat at, Emily and JJ and Garcia on one side, Rossi and Morgan on the other. Morgan got out and grabbed a loose chair from a table, pulling it up and sitting in it, gesturing to the open two spots for you two to take.

Sliding in next to Rossi, he gave you a look that you pointedly tried to ignore. “You all seem to have drinks already. Couldn’t wait for us?” You teased.

“Not when the lovebirds took so long!” Derek responded, making you roll your eyes. “What can I get for you two, pretty boy and girl?” He added, offering himself up for waiter service.

“Can… can I get a glass of moscato? I’ve always been a sweet wine kinda girl. It’s gentle and actually enjoyable, unlike most alcohol.” You requested, making Emily snort.

“Ohhh, a few weeks working with me and I’ll break you of that mindset. Alcohol is amazing. All of it. We’re going to do so many shots, you’re not going to be a lightweight for long! Derek, she would like a margarita… and for little miss “sweet tooth”, have the bartender add a little grenadine?”

You snickered. “Funnily enough, you just hit the nail on the head! Whenever anyone tries to make me drink drink, that’s almost exactly what I order. I usually just go light on the tequila.”

“DEREK! MAKE IT A DOUBLE!” That made the whole of the group laugh out loud, including yourself. You knew you were in for quite a night.

“What about you, Boy Sweet Tooth?” Derek prodded, poking Reid in the side of the face. He, in turn, swatted at Derek’s hand.

“I’ll take a Shirley Temple, thanks.” He said, ignoring the giggling from around him.

“Y/N, do you also take 5 pounds of sugar in your coffee like Spence over here?” JJ piped up. You caught on to the Spence and filed that away to ask someone about later. You… weren’t a fan of how lovingly she was looking at him, but couldn't decipher if it was sisterly affection or… well, the way you looked at him. You could swear you felt Emily looking at you like she could read your mind, and you decided that when the time came to ask some questions, you’d ask her.

“I actually am not the biggest fan of coffee. I drink a lot of energy drinks though.” You responded, earning a laugh from the team.

“That’s even worse!” Garcia said. “That’s even more sugar than Reid!”

Spencer nodded from your side, the movement making you suddenly very aware of how close the two of you were sitting. “Monster energy contains 28 grams of sugar per 8.4-ounce.” He said. “Which is much more than my cup of coffee, thank you all very much.” He smirked, looking down at you. He also seemed to suddenly realize how close you were sitting, then. He looked down at your thighs pressed together under the table and almost maybe tensed up a little bit? But then he noticed you smiling at him, biting your lip, and he relaxed, just in time for Derek to come back with the drinks.

“One sugary mess for Y/N and one for Pretty Boy.” Gladly accepting your drink, hoping it would calm down your rapidly increasing heart rate, you took a big gulp of it.

“So, Y/N,” Garcia started, “What brings you to the BAU? Did you have posters of Rossi and Gideon as a kid when they started it?”

You forced out a laugh, the sudden vocalization of your father’s name making tears prick your eyes, but Rossi was quick to distract them for you. “Are you kidding? Y/N’s taste is way too good for this old bag of fleas. Besides, she wasn’t born for another 15 years or so, right, Y/N?”

Nodding, his joke had given you enough time to pull yourself together. “Rossi has been a good friend of my family for a long time, and I was always interested in what he did. I looked up to him like he was a superhero, and when the time came to decide on what I wanted to do for a living, I guess I wanted to be the superhero I always grew up around.” You smiled at him, earning a proud grin back.

“How long have you two known each other?” Emily pressed, interested.

“Long enough. He… went to school with my mom, I think? At least, they were friends for a long time before I was born, and he’s just… always been around. Not many kids grow up with THE David Rossi sitting in their living room and telling real ghost stories on babysitting nights.”

Morgan perked up. “How old are you anyways?” He said it in such a way, you almost felt like you were being hit on. You were pretty sure it was just the way he was, because no one even batted an eye at his tone except for Garcia, who smacked him playfully from her seat beside him at the end of the booth, to which he wrapped his arm around her lovingly.

“27. Older than I look, I know. Everyone always thinks I’m a complete baby, but I’m a little more worldly than that. As to your question earlier Garcia, I’ve always wanted to be a profiler. To me, you guys have capes and costumes and fight the bad guys. I… wanted to do that too. And I was always told I have the gut for it- I’m highly empathetic, and I read a lot so I can understand what’s going on in other people’s brains to better get how the thought process of humans works. I worked really hard and never let anyone know that-” you took a breath, Rossi looking at you, “-that I knew Rossi. I wanted to make it of my own merit. I wouldn’t even tell Rossi or Hotch that I was planning on the Academy until I was well on my way to graduating. I didn’t want anyone’s influence in how I did or how far I got. You should have seen the look on my friends faces when they saw his name on the graduation speech list. And the looks they gave me when he pulled me in for a hug upon handing me my diploma? Might have been my favorite part of graduation!” You laughed, enjoying the memory, even if it was tainted with a lot of bittersweet feelings.

The night went by, and it was a lot more fun than you thought it was going to be. Your nerves dissolved with every sip of liquor you consumed, and by your third drink, the whole thing almost didn’t seem surreal anymore. You were actually here, a member of the BAU, out to drinks with Derek Morgan, David Rossi, Jennifer Jareau, Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid. Your father talked about these people, you knew these people better than most first day members…

“Never have I ever!” Emily yelled, making you and Spencer shake your heads. “Awwwww come on, I wanna get to know the new girl on a deeper level! A dirtier level! Pleaaaaase Y/N?” Okay, so yeah, Spencer was definitely your new work crush, but Emily was trying very hard to be a close second. That little pout she was doing was so cute, and the drunk lilt to her voice was adorable.

“I… I don’t know.” You said, your anxiety fighting to take center stage, despite how comfortable the tequila was making you. “S-Sure.” You didn’t want to be the negative nancy of the night that ruined everyone's fun. You didn't notice you had started picking at your nails until you felt a soft touch, Spencer's warm hand ghosting over yours, and as you caught his eye, you knew he was in the same boat you were… especially when Derek's voice broke the moment. It was almost like Spencer was psychic in that moment. His eyes predicted it.

“What about you, Pretty Boy? You never play with us.” He teased, pinching his face, and then looking at you. “Baby Genius doesn’t like to play with us because he’s afraid of us finding out how few things he’s done.”

“I’m not a baby. I’m 35 years old!” Spencer whined, a little like a petulant child. “And I am not afraid. I just think this game is dumb and just a means to find out dirty things about your coworkers personal lives, which is a very weird thing to want to know about if you ask me!” He defended, and you had to agree, though you didn’t do so out loud.

“Never have I ever…” Emily started, and then paused and laughed. “I’m so bad at these, I can never think of things I haven’t done!” She took a sip of her drink and when it seemed like she was never going to come up with something, JJ finally pitched one in.

“Never have I ever been in a threesome.” Emily groaned. “What? It’s not my fault that you’re a horndog! I’m a one man kinda lady.” JJ smirked and shrugged. Emily rolled her eyes and put a finger down, taking another sip of her drink. Derek, Garcia and Rossi all joined her, making you almost gag.

“Guys I already hate this, I did NOT need to know that about Rossi!” You say, taking a huge gulp of your drink, hoping tequila would wash away that moment from your memory forever.

Derek kicked your foot under the table lightly. “Don't worry, Pretty Lady. Just think about me in a threesome and your mind will be put at ease from the pain of thinking about Rossi. It’s a much prettier picture, I promise you that.”

You blushed, because yes, that was a much prettier picture. “Okay, that’s fair, I accept that.” You heard and felt some shuffling next to you, and saw out of the corner of your eye Reid looking uncomfortable. And… sad? No, why would he look sad?

Rossi went next, on your right. “Never have I ever been intimate with a man.”

You rolled your eyes. That was an easy one, of course he’d go with that. To your surprise, everyone at the table besides Rossi put a finger down and took a sip, including you. You almost spit yours out when you saw Reids finger go down, but no one else seemed to notice. Maybe… had you been wrong about his flirting with you? His proximity and his touches… maybe… maybe he was…

“NO WAY. DEREK, REALLY?” Garcia suddenly shrieked. Derek laughed and shrugged. “A man has needs, and when a woman demands something special, well, you make it happen. Besides, I’m not above admitting that there are some attractive men out there. Derek has an open mind.” He smirked and took another sip.

All four women at the table stared at him in awe. “God, that’s hot.” Emily said out loud, voicing the thoughts of everyone looking at Derek.

“Exactly the reason Derek has an open mind, beautiful ladies. I know what women want.” He said, looking like the cat who got the cream.

Now it was your turn, and you… you had to know. “Never have I ever been with a woman intimately.”

Everyone at the table laughed and put a finger down, and you watched as Reid did too. The relieved breath that came out of you after that should have embarrassed you, but it didn’t until he looked at you, concerned that something was wrong. You just smiled and hid how absolutely thrilled you were that he might still like you some kind of way.

Emily looked properly offended. “Oh, we need to change that. I don’t think anyone should miss out on the experience of a beautiful woman.”

“Oooh, Prentiss, are you offering?” Derek joked, laughing. “I’d watch that.” He eyed you both, making clear implications.

You were about to make a comment back, but before you could Spencer beat you to it. “Shut up, Derek.” Everyone froze, looking at Reid in shock. “Just because Garcia is okay with your sexual harassment, doesn’t mean you should be treating a new teammember that way. That’s not the way you should talk to people you barely know. She’s a human being.”

The whole team was unmoving. You turned and looked at them both, and you reached under the table and put your hand on Reids. He was shaking. “I actually… I would be open to being with a woman, I’ve just never had an opportunity. I’m… I’m not against any kind of experience. Try anything twice, in my opinion. Never know if the first time sucked because of the partner or if you actually just don’t like it.”

Everyone moved their shocked looks over at you now, before JJ piped in. “Y/N is full of surprises apparently. A little bi-curious, huh? Emily is going to take turning you from innocent lightweight to experienced day drinker as a personal challenge now.”

The rest of the group tried to shake off Reid’s outburst, but it definitely still hung in the air. You tried to pretend like you didn’t notice his heartbeat speeding up in your hands when you mentioned being interested in women. Men were so typical. Even smart ones, clearly.

“Your turn.” You squeezed his hand before taking it away a moment later. You were still scared of over doing it. You barely knew each other, no matter how you felt like you’d known each other for years… he’d just met you. Yes, he was… weirdly okay with your touch, but you were really trying not to get too excited about that.

“Never have I ever…” He thought, taking a moment to think about it. Derek looked like he wanted to make some kind of comment, but also looked like he was thinking better of it. “Never have I ever been in love.” He said, eyes down on his drink. Everyone drank and put a finger down… except for the two of you. You could feel him looking at your hands, how your fingers hadn’t changed, and you almost wanted to scream but today is making me think that love at first sight is real and not just in Disney movies. But you kept it in, because you’re sure if you said it, you’d end up trying to kiss him and that was not appropriate.

The private moment between the two of you was broken then, Derek moving right along with the game. “Never have I ever had a thing for someone more than 5 years older than me.”

You wished you had something to throw at him. Every one of you put your fingers down, except the two boys at the end of the bar. Rossi snickered as he sipped his drink. “You’re missing out, son. Older women are incredible. Mature. Worldly.”

“And older men?” Prentiss added, to which the girls on either side of her made agreeing noises. “Well, let’s just say there’s a reason there’s such a thing as a daddy kink.”

You chuckled and sipped your drink before adding in, “Or a professor kink.” Everyone made noises of approval at that.

“Y/N is kinky! You had a thing for your professors in college?” Garcia laughed, and it was such an infectious sound, you couldn’t even try to be embarrassed, you just wanted to join her laughter.

“Not really, but I’ve always liked the idea of it.” You blamed the tequila for making your mouth move right now. “But I’ve always loved the idea of an older man in a little nerdy professor outfit who seems so uptight and so innocent keeping me late after class and teaching me a lesson, I guess.”

“Okay, I think we’re even now, kid. You know things about me you never wanted to know… and now I know things about you that I could have gone my whole life not knowing, thank you very much.” Rossi had quite the look on his face, and it made you giggle. You were so distracted by him, you didn’t notice Spencer’s demeanor change.

“Reid? What’s the matter?” JJ asked, concern lacing her voice. You turned and saw what she saw, a dark look having fallen over his usually soft features. You were reaching your hand out to touch his hand when he stood up rather abruptly.

“I’ll be right back.” He wasted no time running to where you could only assume was the bathroom.

“What crawled up his butt?” Garcia asked, laughing and leaning on Derek. “Oooh! It’s my turn! We’ll just catch him up when he gets back. Never have I ever sent anyone a nude!” She said, making everyone at the table groan except for you. After they all took a sip, they looked at you like you’d somehow betrayed them by not being guilty of the same thing.

“Oh come on, really, Garcia and Y/N? It’s the 21st century! You’re telling me you’ve never had someone far away that you’ve wanted to get all hot and bothered?” JJ said, starting to slur just a little. “Come on. With our jobs? I’m a married woman who never gets to see my hot husband… technology of today is an amazing help for that.”

You shrugged. “I’m not against it or anything. I’ve just… never had anyone who I wanted to send something like that to. Besides, I was raised to fear the idea of anyone getting any of my info online, so I’ve always been more on the careful side when it comes to that.” Your mom and dad had always been very- open, to say the least, about the dangers of predators online. So you’d never really gone through that rebellious teen phase, knowing what could actually happen if you did.

Garcia nodded. “Guys, I’m a tech genius, and I am… well, a little famous online because of my hacking skills. I’m not giving anyone access to this gorgeousness unless they are right in front of me.”

“Y/N, you’ve never had anyone you’d send a teasing picture to or something? Just to get them going and play that really hot game of ‘back and forth’ with?” Emily asked, gesturing to her empty drink, pouting at Derek, who relented and got up to get new drinks for everyone.

“No… I’ve been so focused on school and my career, and no one ever stood out like that for me before.” Spencer reappeared like magic, suddenly by your side again, sadly further away than before. You missed his warmth already, but tried to shake the thought out of your mind. You’d literally just met this guy this morning.

“Welcome back Genius boy, we’re talking about nudes! Have you ever sent nudes to a special someone?” Garcia prodded, her alcohol drowning brain not understanding the idea that maybe he wasn’t interested in playing anymore.

“N-No. I haven’t.” He said, playing with his hands on his lap. You wanted to reach out and take his hand, lace your fingers together and let him play with your fingers instead of his own.

“Me neither! Neither has Y/N- we’re all such good kids. The rest of you are all naughty and strangers have absolutely seen your junk!”

Emily smiled at you and looked over at Spencer, tilting her head in curiosity. “Is it your hatred towards technology or are you just shy?”

He shrugged. “Maybe a bit of both. I’ve… never had someone I had a desire to, well, send pictures of myself to. There’s a large level of trust that goes into that. Trust that it’ll remain private, trust that they would l-like what they see…” His eyes fell to his lap and you could have cried for how unsure he looked of himself.

Derek returned with drinks, one for you too even though you hadn’t finished yours yet. “Aww, Pretty Boy, anyone who would be lucky enough to get one of your nudes better consider themselves lucky. I don’t call you pretty boy for nothin’.” He mussed Reid’s hair again, but this time, Spencer didn’t seem to mind. Some of his tension slipped away, and you felt yourself relax too. You gulped down the rest of your drink so you could start in on the new one, the world starting to get a little topsy turvy. How many drinks had they put in front of you so far?

It was Emily’s turn, but she couldn’t for the life of her come up with something she hadn’t done, so she demanded the game end and they moved on to just bothering each other with questions. An hour passed by faster than you realized, and by the time you’d finished the drink Derek had put in front of you, you were more than a little sloppy. You were putting most of your weight on Spencer, your head feeling like it weighed 100 pounds as it drooped onto his shoulder. His mood seemed to improve over the time since he went to the bathroom, and he’d been shifting closer to you as you’d been doing to him. You were thigh to thigh again, and your arms were pressed together from shoulder to wrist. You drunkenly stared at your hands, laying side by side on each of your thighs, trying to use some kind of dormant magic inside of you to pull his hand to yours.

“I think Y/N’s had enough, tonight, guys.” Rossi’s voice filled your ears. You were too busy trying to focus on the scent of Spencer to care to listen. The bar was overwhelming your senses again, and you were trying to ground yourself in Spencer’s familiar warmth and smell. “We should probably get going before someone ends up in someone else’s lap.” He added, making the rest of your (very drunk) team laugh. “Who’s in my car and who else can drive?”

“I drove here but I don’t think I should drive.” You piped up, pulling your keys from your purse and putting them on the table.

“I-I’ll drive Y/N home.” Spencer said quickly, trying to ignore the hooting from the rest of the team at the offer.

“I’m going with them!” Emily and JJ yelled at the same time. Garcia and Derek’s mouths hanging open as they seemed to be about to say the same thing.

The latter two mumbled under their breath, damning Emily and JJ for “stealing the seats to the show” and both agreed to go with Rossi.

Reid helped you out of the booth, arm wrapping securely around your waist to keep you standing up. You tried to pull away, embarrassed that you needed so much help, but he just held you closer. “Don’t worry, Y/N.” His breath ghosted over your ear and made you shiver. “I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall.”

“I already have…” You said quietly, your drunk brain not knowing you’d whispered out loud. You focused on his smell and his touch, the way the warmth from his side and his hands set your skin on fire. Your embarrassment was a thing for future Y/N to worry about, because present Y/N was enthralled with the man helping you to the car.

After saying goodnight to the other three, JJ and Emily poured themselves into the back of your car, Spencer helping you into the passenger seat. He got into the drivers seat and chuckled as he watched you fight with the seat belt. “Let me help you, please.” He said, still laughing lightly, and you pouted, but relented. His hands brushed yours as they took the buckle, and he brushed your hip as he locked you in place. Every time he touched you, you could swear you felt shocks of electricity go through you.

“Speeeeeence, can you help me buckle in too?” You heard JJ call from the back in a sing song voice.

“Me too, Spenceyyyyy! Strap me in! Or down!” Emily added from beside her, making them break down in a fit of giggles. You wanted to pitch in that you would also be up for Spencer tying you down, but as the car lurched forward, your stomach followed suit and suddenly you lost the ability to talk. You were just focusing on not vomiting in your car and ruining all chances of Spencer ever seeing you as attractive ever again.

He was laughing at the ridiculousness of his friends as he started driving, but seemed to take immediate notice of something being wrong with you. “Y/N? Are you okay?” He asked, and the concern in his voice made you feel very guilty for putting it there. He seemed to reach out for you, but had apparently decided against it, putting his hand on the gear shift instead. He had such nice hands.

“Y-Yeah. I’m just a little dizzy, I’m fine, don’t you worry your pretty little head about me.” You smiled at him, watching him driving soothing your aching stomach. You felt like you were in an ocean, the waves crashing around you and making you sea sick. Spencer felt like a buoy for you to clutch onto so you wouldn’t drown. “C-Can I-” You reached for his hand, pulling it to your lap and playing with his fingers nervously, trying to focus on the way they felt rather than focus on the spinning in your head or the flipping of your stomach.

Spencer’s hand relaxed in your grip, allowing you the simple moment that, unfortunately, did not escape the two drunk ladies in the back. “Are you two gonna get married?” Emily asked.

“Awwww I’d finally get to be a godmother! I made everyone godparents and no one’s made me a fairy godmother yet! I wanna go godmother shopping with Pen so bad!” JJ added, bouncing next to her co-conspirator. You blushed and tried to let go of his hand, but he reacted immediately and took your hand back into his so you could keep playing with it. The fact that he was at least okay with whatever you felt about him and how you were acting on it made you feel light as air. He could just be allowing it while you were drunk because he felt sorry for you… but you held onto hope anyway. Even with your knowledge of his love of chess, you didn’t think he seemed like the kind of guy to play games.

“No, I want to be the godmother!” Emily whined.

“I’m Spencer’s best friend!” JJ countered, pushing Emily on the shoulder.

“I’m going to be Y/N’s best friend, just you wait! Y/N, wanna have a sleepover?” Emily asked, tapping you on your shoulder incessantly.

“Sure, Em.” You smiled to yourself. You liked the fact that she wanted to be your friend, but you hoped it was for more than possibly being a godmother to a child that could possibly not even exist.

“Yay!” She exclaimed, sticking her tongue out at JJ. “Oh shush. When they get married I’ll be Y/N’s maid of honor and you can be Spencey’s best man!”

Your heartbeat a little harder at the thought, and you chanced a glance at Spencer to see what he thought of their shenanigans. He seemed amused as he focused on the road, trying to pretend like he wasn’t paying them any mind.

JJ perked up and stopped pouting, ruffling Spencer’s hair from the back seat. “Awwwwww can I be your best man, Spence? I’ll wear a suit and everything! Derek would be soooooo mad! Imagine his face!”

Spencer laughed at that, the image somehow amusing to him. “We’ll see. Maybe let me decide if and when I want to get married first before you start planning my wedding?”

Oh. You deflated at that. He’d seemed so okay with all the teasing, you hoped... He pulled up to a house then, and considering JJ started to gather her things, you assumed this was her house. A man came to the porch and waved. You tried to focus on that, and let go of Reid’s hands in favor of forcing yourself to join the conversation. “Damn! JJ is that your husband?”

She giggled. “Yeah, that’s my Will!”

Emily sighed, leaning her head on the window. “Isn’t it a damn shame? She took the last eligible bachelor in the whole world? AND he’s a southern gentleman! JJ sucks.” You both laughed at her, JJ especially.

“Love you too. Have fun with Y/N while I have fun with my hot southern gentleman husband!” She called out as she got out, closing the door behind her. She ran up to Will and wrapped herself around him. They were a beautiful couple, and seemed so at ease with one another. You hoped you got to know what that felt like one day.

Emily seemed to start to drift off then, and you turned to look at Spencer again, who was staring at you. You blushed, unsure of why his gaze was so intense. “I uh… you know that coffee shop on Trumbull street? I live right over there.” You offered, hoping to go back to how happy and at ease he seemed to be before.

He nodded, clearly knowing where he was going with the directions you gave him. You drove in tense mostly silence for a while, Emily’s snoring the only sound besides the sounds of the road. “D-Did… did I do something wrong?” You asked suddenly, your voice quiet and unsure.

His shoulders fell from their tense position. “No, I just… I think I’m just tired. We had a hard case this week and going out drinking isn’t usually how I decompress.”

“How do you usually decompress?”

“I spend most of my free time at home reading. I read 20,000 words per minute and it soothes me. Morgan wasn’t completely dramatizing my apartment. It’s covered in books. They’re everywhere but the fridge and freezer.”

You laughed at that, starting to sober up a little bit. The world wasn’t quite so upside down anymore. “Me too, except most of my library is back at my moms house. We have a room dedicated to books… we’re a big reading family. Especially my dad.” You offered.

“My love of reading came from my mom. She read to me when I was little.”

“The best way is to have a book read to you! My dad used to read to me, too. I loved listening to him say big words I didn’t understand yet.” You smiled at the memory, closing your eyes and remembering, wishing it didn’t seem so far away and cloudy.

Spencer smiled. “My mom says that too. I can still close my eyes and remember every story she ever read to me.”

“I would kill for your memory.” You admitted sadly. “To be able to remember everything with such detail… it’s a gift I wish I had.”

“A gift.” He paused, looking sad. “A curse too, though. It’s not fun to remember every detail of the bad things.” He said, and you longed to know what those bad things were. Maybe one day you would.

You smiled, one that dripped in bittersweet, looking out the window. “‘The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things… The good things don't always soften the bad things, but vice-versa, the bad things don't necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant.’”

You looked back at him in time to see his surprised expression as he turned and looked at you before he had to look back at the road. “Doctor Who. Matt Smith, Vincent and the Doctor. Series 5, episode 10. Air date June 5th 2010.”

“Impressive!” Truly, you were impressed. Even knowing he remembered everything, you were sure it would never surprise you. “It’s one of my favorite episodes, actually. I have a lot of favorites, but that one never gets old.”

“Who’s your favorite Doctor?” He asked you, and you realized that you were getting close to your apartment. You wished the night didn’t have to end.

“I don’t think I could pick, honestly. They all have their merits, and they all definitely have their flaws… I loved David, just like every other girl in the world, but Matt’s chaotic energy was so fun. And Capaldi was just so… captivating. He’s an amazing actor. His work in Heaven Sent was… indescribable. That’s another one of my favorites. You can take a right up here, and then I’m in the big apartment building on the left.” You watched his arms as he turned the steering wheel, captivated by how strong they seemed underneath the button up and sweater vest.

“Thanks for driving us… you’re welcome to take my car home- it’s late, and I don’t want you to have to find a bus or train at this time.” You said, not making a move to get up. You’d only spent a day with him, and you already never wanted to be away from him.

He pulled up to the building and put the car in park before turning to look at you. “How will you get to work tomorrow?”

You hadn’t thought about that. You bit your lip and blushed all the way to your neck. “I… I can see if Emily can text JJ and have her pick us up?”

“Or I could come and pick you two up?” He offered. You nodded slowly.

“I… don’t want to inconvenience you. It’s not fair to inconvenience your new teammate.”

“It’s not an inconvenience. By letting me take your car, I don’t have to take the bus tomorrow… That’s actually pretty nice. And I’ll get to see you again… you know, so we can talk more Doctor Who.” He looked like he was blushing, but you couldn’t be sure in the dark of the car.

“O-Okay… It would be nice to see you tomorrow. Though I will probably be very embarrassed about tonight. I don’t usually do things like this. Get drunk and act like a fool.” You gestured at nothing, pointing between the two of you, indicating you were talking about how all over him you were all day.

“You have no reason to be embarrassed. The rest of the team was much more ridiculous than you were. Everyone acts different when under the influence of alcohol; Morgan gets even more forward and flirty, Garcia gets abrasive and asks invasive questions, Emily gets loud, JJ gets a little whiny and is what I’ve heard referred to as a ‘woo girl’? Rossi… Rossi doesn’t really act very different from himself sober, but I can guess that that comes with age. You… well, you were… a pretty adorable drunk, actually.” He said, almost too quiet. You almost missed it, but you were glad you didn’t.

Emily stirred behind you before you could respond. “Mmm, arewethereyet?” She yawned, making stretching sounds.

“Yeah, we are, Em. We just got here.” You sighed. “Thank you, Reid. For driving us home, for standing up for me earlier… you’ve been very kind and patient with my drunkenness tonight and I appreciate it. I hope I can make up for today and show you that I’m an okay person when Emily isn’t forcing tequila down my throat.”

“I already think you’re pretty cool, so there’s nothing to make up for. I’ll-” He looked like he wanted to say something else, but he looked back at Emily and then at you. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow bright and early. I’ll call you when I get here, okay Em?”

“Mm’Kay Spencer.” She replied sleepily, opening her door, making you feel the need to open yours too. The night was over much too fast in your opinion.

“Thanks again, Reid, have a good night.” You were about to shut the door when you heard his voice again, causing you to turn around.

“Y/N?” He leaned forward, his head tilted and hair falling to the side, messy and so attractive- you wanted to reach forward and run your fingers through it and know if it felt as soft as it looked.

“Yeah?” You bent down a little to meet his gaze.

His eyes were large and brown, the lights from the street lamps making them sparkle. “Please call me Spencer. All my friends call me Spencer.”

You could have danced, that had made you so happy. “O-Okay. Goodnight, Spencer. Thank you for everything.”

He smiled at you then, the biggest one you’d had the pleasure to see on his face so far in the 12 hours you’d known him. You hoped to see a million more of those in the future. “Goodnight, Y/N. Good luck with that drunk mess over there. See you tomorrow.” You and Emily headed up to your apartment building, and when you turned around from inside, he was still there, looking at you with a smile on his face.

Next Chapter

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Ok, last one. The Kat and Artemisia post. Incase you missed them, this is part of a trio of posts on Baroque art and the DmC reboot trio and a separate post on the DmC reboot and the Baroque as an art movement.

The other posts if you want to check them out: Dante and Caravaggio, Vergil and Benini, DmC and the Baroque

Today for the final installment in this little mini series, we’ll be discussing the artist who won the Baroque, Artemisia Gentileschi, and her painting Judith Slaying Holofernes, featured below. 

Analysis of this painting, why it’s such a bop, Kat, and the devil may cry reboot below the cut!

Content Warning: discussion of abuse as it relates to Kat.

I guess we start with the beginning and the beginning is who Judith is. 

Judith is a biblical character. Upon impending invasion, she is unsatisfied with the response of her people and decides to infiltrate the enemy camp with her maid, intent to stop the enemy army. After gaining the trust of the people there, she eventually seduces general Holofernes and is invited to his tent. Then she beheads him with what I am left to assume is his sword. I suppose given the painting that part’s a little spoiled. 

A lot of paintings focus on the beheading or Judith posing with the decapitated head in victory. But a lot of them don’t have the impact of Artemisias, as seen above. 

Judith, as painted by Artemisia, is full of rage. She is not serene or delicate. She is not posing or unsure. She is angry, certain, and out for blood. Everything in her expression and her movements is full of force and intent. It’s the little details like his hair between her knuckles from where she’s gripping it and the forceful twist of her wrist on his sword that she’s taken. To her rolled sleeves in her incredibly fancy dress. And it’s not afraid to be gory to. Perhaps this is tame by modern standards of blood and gore but for the time it’s very bloody and violent. Supposedly the violence was too much for the first owner who kept it hidden for some time (allegedly). I think it’s important that while the focus is Judith doing the act, her maid is not passive in the violence. She’s holding him down with just as much force as Judith. And unwavering to, despite how we can see how Holofernes was trying to throw her off before he died, his hands still limply in the air. The maids full of as much determination as Judith is. Judith’s dressed up for this to, in a fine gown with her hair done up. This is likely part of the ruse Judith set up before she got Holofernes alone, but I like the detail none the less. That she’s dressed up for this murder.

The key to why this painting fits Kat so much to me is how it is not only full of anger and femininity and violence but how in Artemisias hands, the image feels like a bloody catharsis. There’s something personal in Judith's glare, in her rage. Something kind of interesting to in how she’s forced Holofernes to look away from her, like he hasn’t earned the right to see her victory even if by this point he is surely dead (I mean, the sword is nearly through his neck). Or like she doesn’t want to look at him at all, like he’s not worth looking at.

Likewise, for Kat, hunting demons is personal. The Order is personal. Why she’s here doing this is personal.

It’s personal because Kat killed her abusive foster father. I don’t think how impressive this is truly gets conveyed. It’s almost a throw away statement. It’s just that one line, ‘I killed the bastard’, and that’s that. Like it was easy or something. In the reboot universe, though, she’s not even in the same dimension as her foster father. We don’t get a lot of information about how much a demons human form impacts their demon form. We are told Mundus is fused to his human form, but we’re also told this is because he’s been in it so long and also there’s the matter of his relationship to the hell gate. We’re not even told how long he’s been in this form. Has it been years, decades, centuries? How long is so long that it led to this fusion? So, I don’t think we can base the average demon to this. As far as we know in canon, it’s Kat against a being in another dimension. A dimension she cannot engage with physically and to which he can escape to at any time. 

And yet she kills him anyway.

She is the only human we know of in canon who’s done this, to. To be fair, she is the only human mentioned at all in the reboot canon but by how Dante positions himself as human savior and by how certain Vergil seems to be that humans cannot take care of themselves, this must be rare.

I cannot express enough how important it is that Kat is the one who kills him to. It’s not Vergil. She doesn’t say it was Vergil. It’s also not her and Vergil, she doesn’t say that either, she doesn’t say ‘we killed the bastard’. Kat says explicitly that she killed him, ‘I killed the bastard’. It’s Kats kill. No matter how much Vergil helped her, she did it. She killed her abuser despite the odds against her. 

I can’t imagine the sort of catharsis Kat must have felt in that moment. We don’t know how she killed him, she never says. The greatest crime of the comics, in my opinion, are how they take this kill away from Kat and give it to Vergil instead. Which means no further elaboration there on what went down. But I can imagine her in that moment after, unsure how to feel with the rush of adrenaline and power and newfound safety. She’s done it. She’s done something she must have thought was impossible. And she tells us in game how this made her feel emboldened to handle the rest of demon kind. She doesn’t tell us in that many words, I suppose, but she says that she wants to deal with them all because she killed her foster father.

To Kat, this is personal. To Kat, mankind is something worth saving that she is willing to do everything to save. We don’t see her violence in game, but we know she’s willing to kill for this freedom. We know she’s willing to die for it to, given the aftermath of the Orders fall. It’s personal. And Kat sees it as something far bigger then her.

Often Kat I think is written off as someone who is naïve and weak and in need of saving. I’ve complained at length how I feel about her being called naïve. In game we see a very interesting, complex person in Kat I think. I’ve said before that it’s kind of fun to just watch her in scenes. Like really watch her. She has very deliberate body language that often betrays this calm she’s fighting to display, particularly around Dante for the first half of the game or so. It’s little things like how she physically contains herself after the ‘I like it rough’ comment, shutting her eyes and taking in a deep breath, but things that are there. She’s someone who, despite everything, is fighting to be a softer, kinder person even if she’s still got a lot of anger (Vergil does compare her and Dante, after all).

And being soft and kind does not make someone weak. Existing in a world where you are at a disadvantage to the things that aim to hurt you is not weak. Entering into your enemies tent armed with nothing but an elaborate gown and your anger, waiting until you spot a sword and an opportunity is not weak either.

I think something about Kat that is so often forgotten in the drama of the twins and everything else (because lets face it, no matter the media, female characters tend to get side lined for...everything else really), is without her the twins would have failed. It’s Kat who gets Dante and safely brings him to the Order. It’s Kat’s spells that bridge the human world to Limbo. It’s Kat who saves Vergil in the server room by way of bringing Dante to him. It’s Kat who ultimately gives the twins the final plan to get to Mundus. It was her. Dante says so at the end, to. The game recognizes that without Kat, the boys have nothing. And it's still Kat at the end who saves Vergil, and saves Dante from the guilt of killing him.

With Kat taking so much into her own hands despite her disadvantage, despite just being human, despite her softness, despite this rage boiling under her skin (or perhaps because of it), she is so much of why the world is free from demons. 

I mean Artemisia herself got that treatment, largely left out of artistic canon until very recently despite her success during her time. I also debated for a very, very long time across the many, many iteration of this essay on how much I talk about Artemisia’s personal life. I suppose if you made it this far you’ve seen that I’ve chosen not to, despite how it could be relevant to this discussion. But I think her work stands on it’s own without me having to justify the anger Artemisia may have personally felt and conveyed here without bringing up her personal life in depth. Though, if you want to know, I assure you that pretty much any information you look up on Artemisia will go into detail on her personal traumas and how that might impact her work. And it could definitely be relevant angle in discussing Kat and Artemisia, I just felt it overall did not add to this essay.

I often wonder, if she was in a different game or a different medium or a different story, if Kat might get more love. So often she’s called weak for the crime of not having a big weapon and a trail of dead demons behind her. So often she’s reduced to a love interest or a damsel despite how she is really the thing that saved the day, despite the fact her relationship with both twins is much more then ‘potential love interest’. And how many times have you  guys seen a post on your dash about wishing a character picked to enact revenge on an abuser? How they fought to be soft despite their trauma and pain? But I suppose, as is often the case with women in any story, she might have gotten this treatment anyway.

So, here’s to Kat. The brain cell, the Nephilim baby sitter, the girl who wanted to throw Vergil off a cliff, the hero Limbo city got who will never get enough credit, and forever the girl who deserved more. 

Those of us who love you will love you enough for the whole fandom, it’s alright.

[miracul0us-multishipper]

Welcome to the Back - Interlude

Adrien centric. Basically an apology for all that chameleon induced salt I had on him during wttb.

Masterpost

Adrien sneaked a look outside. There was a gap between the panels that made up the background of the show, just large enough to peek out without being seen. It was quiet here, away from the bustling make-up artists and designers, hurrying to put finishing touches on their assigned models. His father wasn’t among them of course. He was Gabriel Agreste and didn’t need to improve anything, his designs long since perfected during late nights in his atelier. And he had full faith in his son!

(“I trust that you know how important this is,” he had said this morning, with face like marble, “how crucial it is to not lose face when working with the competition. I have no doubt you will behave accordingly.”)

Still. His happiness that his father had taken the time to build him up did not keep him from scanning the crowd for him. Was he there already? Or would he arrive in a way his mother called “fashionably late”?

Sighing, he turned away from the panels. He wasn’tsad that his father didn’t visit him before the show. Really, he had already talked to him only hours ago and was doubtlessly busy; Adrien shouldn’t be selfish.

Besides, it wasn’t like he was on his own.

“Are you nervous?”, he asked the other model when he returned to their private changing room. “There are so many people out there!”

Felix Leanne rolled his eyes, but his finger was tapping on the table relentlessly.

“Of course there are many people. Otherwise this whole ordeal wouldn’t be worth the hassle.”

“You’re dodging the question,” Adrien noted with a tiny hint of smugness. He liked Felix, even though he was a little cold sometimes. They had worked together often enough to be on friendly terms, both being the only models of each other’s age in their shoots. Both fairly isolated, both so busy.

Felix sighed.

“I’m not. Nervous, I mean. Just impatient.”

His eyes flitted towards the door.

“Mum… Mum said I can start accompanying her to work if I do well tonight. I’d get to see how everything actually works! I wrote down so many questions I want to ask. I just want to be able to askthem already.”

Adrien frowned.

“Aren’t you a little too young to be so interested in… company math?”

“We’re the same age, Adrien.”

“Exactly! The same youngage.” He couldn’t hold in a deep sigh. “If mymom offered to let me do anything I want, I would ask to go to a real school. No more homeschooling, just… doing something normal for once. I’d get to meet so many people, to make so many friends!”

Felix pretended to shudder.

“Ugh, people. Horrific.” He ignored Adrien’s giggling. “Seriously, they’re everywhere.”

“I bet you could go to school with me!” he, in turn, ignored Felix’ nagging. “Then we’d already know someone there. Plus Chloé, of course.”

Felix grimaced at the name but refrained from commenting. He’d learned that Adrien didn’t handle it well if you openly disliked his only friend. He wouldn’t have had the time, anyway, because just then a blur of oranges and yellows stormed into the room, carrying dozens of safety pins and wearing several dozens more clipped to her dress.

“Felix!”, Evelynn Leanne squealed, “you look wonderful, darling, navy blue just makes your eyes pop! Let me see the jacket, will you? Oh, this looks a little tight! It doesn’t chafe, does it? Does it?”

“Mum, stop it! Personal space, please.”

Felix pulled a face when his mother gave his jacket one last tug before stepping back.

“Of course, of course. It’s just… Ugh, you look adorable! Doesn’t he, Ms. Cess?”

The Leanne’s assistant, a round black woman that looked absolutely unshakable, gave Felix a small smile.

“He looks like a professional.”

Felix didn’t beam. Adrien was sure his face was physically incapable to. But the hint of a smile that graced his usually tight lips might be his version of that.

“Thank you,” he said genuinely, before sobering up again. “Now, if you’d leave me to prepare? Also, I’m pretty sure you have more than one design to check up on.”

Evelyn sighed, just the way her son was prone to do.

“Let me have my moment, will you? But fine! I still haven’t heard any news from the missing accessory line, and that Sancœur lady was very adamant that it be complete. Good luck, Felix! You too, Adrien! Love your tie, by the way.”

He perked up immediately.

“Thank you, Madame Leanne!”, he tried to answer, but Felix was already hurrying her and Mademoiselle Cess out of the door. When they were gone, his coworker was leaning against the door in relief and Adrien’s throat felt weirdly tight.

“Sorry about that,” Felix said nonchalantly, “she’s been a little clingy since… you know.”

Of course. The divorce, he’d read about it in the newspaper. He couldn’t imagine how horrible it would be to lose his father like that, how terrible Felix must feel.

“Are you okay?” the (slightly) older boy asked after a moment. “You were so quiet.”

Adrien shook his head, shushing those thoughts.

“Of course! Your mother is great, I just… Mine can’t be here today. She’s still not feeling well.”

An understatement, he feared. His father wouldn’t let him into her room to say goodbye before he went to the show. He was just worried, of course! And he’d explained it to him.

(“Don’t bother your mother now, Adrien. She needs her rest.”

“I just wanted to see her before the show. To say goodbye- “

His father flinched at that; his tone sharp.

“There’s no need to- She’ll still be here after the show! Don’t- Don’t let your nerves get the better of you.”

Then, a little softer: “You can talk to her tomorrow.”)

Felix looked at him through somber blue eyes.

“I’m… sorry to hear that. But your father will be here, yes?”

Hurrying to smile, Adrien nodded.

“Yes, we’ll drive home together.”

At that, Felix’ eyes narrowed.

“Uh… great? But before that he’ll want to see you, won’t he?”

To be honest, he was never quite sure what his father wanted. But that wasn’t what this was about, anyway!

“He is very busy,” Adrien explained. “Managing the Show, and all that. But that’s alright! It’s very important to him, and I’m happy to be part of it. It makes me feel… I don’t know, closer to him.”

Felix’ did not relent.

“But don’t you want him to say Good Luck or something? Surely, he can’t be thatbusy.”

“Well…” he admitted. “I… I did hope he’d come by. Like your mom always does. But I don’t want to be greedy! He’s needed elsewhere, probably.”

He straightened.

“Besides, I don’t want to complain to you. With all that… divorce business you’ve already got on your shoulders.”

It was a cheap trick to change the topic, but it worked. Felix scoffed and turned away.

“Oh please, I’m happymy Dad isn’t here. Not that he would care, anyway. I barely saw him even before Mum kicked him out, and what I saw of him was distant, dismissive and derogatory at best. Really, I could never see him again and not lose any sleep about it.”

Adrien couldn’t believe anyone could truly feel that way about their father. Sure, he was disappointed in his father from time to time, sometimes even angry. But he was still, well, his father.

“I’m sure he does love you.”, he tried to comfort his friend. “Maybe if you gave him another chance, he would- “

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Felix snapped, still not looking at him. “He had thirteen years’ worth of chances. I won’t let him… I won’t stand for that kind of inconsequence.”

With that, he straightened his shoulders and turned around.

“Besides, you’re hardly unbiased. It’s rather obvious you’re projecting.”

His voice was harsher than intended and it showed. No sooner than he said it, his eyes widened and he looked away.

“I… I meant…”

“I’m not projecting.”, Adrien said. His voice was oddly quiet to his own ears, and his chest felt cold. “I’m not- I love my père. He’s not- I love him. You don’t know him. He’s just- I’m sure you love your father too, deep down.”

He didn’t know what his own face looked like, but Felix looked stricken.

“Yes,” he said softly, caving, “I guess so. I didn’t mean to imply…”

“It’s okay,” Adrien quickly assured him. No need to be so upset. He was just getting emotional again, and that so close to the beginning of the show. “I know you didn’t mean it that way. I’ll just…” – he pointed towards the door – “…leave you to, y’know, prepare.”

He was out of the room before Felix could protest, towards the back entrance. He needed air, just for a moment. To ground himself.

The heavy door swung open and the security personnel outside gave him a curious glance, but let him pass without question. Cool evening air hit him, soothing and clear. It helped. It always helped.

He could always think more clearly when he was outside. Felix hadn’t meant to say that. He hadn’t meant it, because it wasn’t true. Adrien’s father wasn’t dismissive. He wasn’t distant. He cared, and he loved him. Adrien knew it. So what if-

The crash of a shutting door around the corner caught his attention.

“…know who I am?!”, an angry voice shouted. “I have a right to be here!”

Curious, Adrien came closer until he could see the speaker. A light-haired man with impressive sideburns and an expensive looking suit was raging against a closed door, or rather the person who had shut it.

“You can’t keep me out! Tell her that! Tell her she’s a- “

The man fell silent when he spotted Adrien.

“What are you looking at, boy?!” he snarled and Adrien took a step back. Oh god, had he been staring?

“S-sorry,” he muttered, “I didn’t mean to- “

That’s when he noticed his eyes. Blue-grey, like cold stone. Like Felix’ eyes.

“Monsieur- Monsieur Leanne?”, he asked tentatively. The man in front of him flinched, then towered over him with something in his eyes Adrien couldn’t place. It frightened him.

“It’s Bordeaux.”, he spit, emphasizing every syllable, “René Bordeaux. And who are you?!”

Oh god, he was doing everything wrong today. Leanne was Felix’ mother’slast name.

“Adrien- Adrien Agreste,” he pressed out, not knowing whether to apologize or to run. His fear was misplaced, however. Within mere seconds Monsieur Bordeaux relaxed, all hints of aggression evaporating like boiling spaghetti water.

“Agreste!”, he said cheerfully, a dizzying contrast to his previous demeanor, “Gabriel’s boy, I take it?”

“Y… yes!”, Adrien confirmed quickly, relieved that the situation was apparently saved. Had he imagined Monsieur Bordeaux’s anger? There was no trace of it now! Perhaps he had read the situation wrong… it wouldn’t be the first time. “Yes, that’s me.”

“Well, I’m a big fan!”, the reporter beamed. “Of you andyour dad. Excited for the show? You must be so nervous, being the main star!”

Flattered, Adrien shrugged.

“Oh, it’s not… not a big deal. But thank you, Monsieur Bordeaux.”

“But it is!”, Bordeaux insisted. “Call me René, young man, no need for formalities.”

He put a hand on his shoulder, lowering his voice.

“To be honest, I’m very impressed how well you are handling all this pressure. I have a son your age, and I know he would be at a total loss for what to do.”

“Oh. Oh!”, Adrien realized, “You mean Felix! I’m actually working with him tonight!”

“Oh? You don’t say!”

“It’s true! He’s doing great, though. A real professional!”

Monsieur- René sighed.

“I’d love to believe that. The Felix I know tends to be… stubborn. I fear he’ll refuse help from everyone, even those who have his best interest at heart.”

Adrien frowned. That was true, Felix was stubborn. But Adrien hadn’t noticed anything the other boy might need help with, so he couldn’t judge. It just didn’t sit right with him that his dad didn’t believe Felix could do it.

“Really, you can be proud of him!”, he tried again. “He’s gonna be flawless, you’ll see at the- oh.”

Another mistake. René wouldn’t see his son, because he was not allowed at the show.

“Well, yes.”, Felix’ father agreed, patting him on the back as if to say ‘no worries’. “There’s the problem, you see?”

“I’m sorry for that.”

“Ah, don’t be! It’s not your fault. Really, that’s between me and Evelyn. She just… doesn’t want me to be a part of Felix’ life anymore. All because of some small mistakes I made. And now, now Felix will never…”

“Give you a chance.”, Adrien concluded. René smiled wistfully.

“Exactly. I just want… another, uh, chance.”

He was looking into the distance, before promptly jumping up and turning to him.

“Wait a minute! You are the star of the evening! What if youbrought me in with you? Then I could see Felix before the show!”

Adrien blinked. He… he could do that! But…

“I… I don’t think that would be a good idea. Felix said he doesn’t want to see you.”

“Oh, I’m sure he did. But sometimes, what people say they want, and what they need are two entirely different things!”

…that sounded familiar, but not quite right.

“I don’t understand.”

“See,” René began, crouching down to his height, “take your dad! He’s probably very busy, isn’t he?”

He didn’tflinch.

“That’s fine! I am supporting him!”, Adrien said, voice sharper than intended.

“Of course you do! And you probably tell him that. You don’t wanna nag him, am I right?”

Slowly, he nodded.

“But surely, deep down, you would like him to see you more, wouldn’t you?”

“I… I guess. And you think Felix is the same? Even though he is mad at you?”

“Let me put it that way. I did some tinythings wrong, and now Felix wants to punish me for it. But you make mistakes too, don’t you? And you don’t want to be abandoned for them either.”

“No!”, he gasped, horrified, “No, of course not!”

“See? And you’re right! Know why?”

René gestured into the distance.

“There’s good people, and there are evil people, who do evil things, like bombing churches, or kicking puppies. But people like you and I – Good People, the rightkind of people – wecan change.

“...or explain why we didn’t do anything wrong in the first place. There’s always two sides, and all that. Nothing is made better if everyone just turns away from us! Punishing us for mistakes doesn’t make them disappear. Only if we are given another chance we can make things right.”

Something still didn’t sit right with Adrien, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“But… but what if the mistake is really bad?”

René’s face darkened, before lighting up again.

“Clever kid, you! Even then, punishing bad things never made them good, am I right? You can only” – he snapped his finger – “suck it up and support others to do better. And you are exactly the kind of person who would know better, clever as you are. Really, Felix could take a page from your book!”

He stood up, looking down on him.

“So, what do you say, young man? Do you wanna be my hero and help a worried father care for his son?”

Adrien looked back at the private entrance. The security people who would do as he said. The building his own father was probably in.

“I…”

Felix would thank him, eventually, right?

“I’ll do it.”

-

“So, here we are!”, Adrien announced to his companion. “Welcome to the back... stage. This is the hallway that leads to the stage, there you’ll arrive at the stairs to the audience, and here’s the way to our private changing room! Do you want me to tell Felix you are coming, or do you want to talk alone?”

René wasn’t looking at him. His eyes were darting over the many settings on his camera, then towards the changing room.

“Know what, kid? Maybe don’t tell Felix I’m here just yet.”

Adrien’s smile faltered.

“But… but the show is going to start soon! Don’t you want to wish him good luck?”

“Ah, don’t worry about it.”, René dismissed with a wave of his hand, “Luck is the last thing he needs. Tell you what, I have something… special planned. You don’t want to ruin the surprise, do you?”

That made sense. He shook his head, and the reporter grinned.

“That’s what I thought. No off you go, get ready for your modeling gig!”

Adrien’s chest felt tight. He didn’t like the expression in René’s eyes. But he had been wrong so often. Felix would thank him eventually, he reminded himself. René just needed another chance.

Felix would thank him.

-

Felix did not thank him.

An hour later, there was press everywhere, and at least one police car. Adrien was lost and stumbling around between running people. Camera’s clicked, someone was yelling, he could see Felix’ mom talking to an officer. Her make-up was running. Was she crying?

“Adrien!”, a hoarse voice yelled, and suddenly Felix was there, pulling at his arm, “What did you do?!”

His eyes weren’t like stone anymore. They looked like thawing ice. Cold and watering andbreaking.

“I-”

“What did you do?!”

“I only wanted- I was just- “

“What?! Whatwere you?! Trying to ruin everythingfor me!?”

“No! I didn’t think- “

“There you are!”, a familiar voice called and Adrien almost sagged in relief. Nathalie pulled him away from Felix with no effort at all, instructing the security personnel to drag the kicking and cursing boy back to his mother. Then she pulled Adrien with her, towards the private box where his father sat.

Adrien gulped.

Gabriel Agreste was utterly motionless, looking down upon the chaos below. Not a hair was out of place, not the hint of an emotion in his eyes.

“That would be all, Nathalie.”, he said simply, and Nathalie let go of Adrien to return to her tablet.

“Father…”, he said, voice breaking. “I don’t understand what happened. Did I… did I do something wrong?”

His father was still watching the crowd below. The press, trying to get a shot of Evelyn Leanne. The police, running around and interviewing people. A blonde boy in navy blue, so small from above, blocking his ears and trying escape the cameras.

A show in ruins.

“Sir,” Nathalie spoke up again, before Gabriel could even turn to his son, “we heard back from Madame Bourgeois. She wants to reconsider doing her Fashion Highlights article about the Gabriel Brand instead of Leanne’s. And there’s a British perfume company looking for a new partner in fashion.”

With that, Gabriel stood up. His son lowered his head, trying to sink into the ground before the yelling could begin. But instead of raising his voice, his father raised his hand and –

“Let’s go home, Adrien.”

–…pat him on the shoulder.

“Father?”

He was confused. He’d been so sure this was his fault, that he had messed up somehow.

“Shouldn’t I- shouldn’t I go talk to Felix first?”

His father looked past him, towards the Leanne’s.

“I doubt you will be working with him again.”, was his reply. He looked almost… content when he turned away from the scene. “Let’s not waste our breath.”

With that, Gabriel Agreste started walking away.

And Adrien, ever the obedient son, followed.

—

Many things would happen between that fateful night, and another night that promised to be even more fateful.

Adrien had lost his mother.

Adrien had gained friends.

Adrien had gone to school; Adrien had left it.

He had been a hero and a villain, and through it all, a child.

A child that had to be better. A child that now knew, he could become what had become of René Bordeaux.

A child that would not.

He would not become like Bordeaux. Like Lila. He wouldn’t allow it.

And he would prove it!

He would do better, be better. So that he could return to school, to his friends, and show them that he wouldn’t let them down again. If they’d still have him.

He would show Nino that he’d never ever lie again.

He would show Alya that he’d never let her be used again.

He would show Marinette that he would never abandon her again.

And… he would show Felix that he got it now. That he wouldn’t disappoint him again.

And maybe, that would show Ladybug that she had been right to trust him one last time. Even if it wasn’t as her partner.

The door to his room opened, and Adrien held his breath. Nathalie would have knocked.

“Adrien,” his father greeted him, an even for him atypical amount on tension in his face, “we need to talk.”

“We do,” Adrien agreed, opening the tab with the list of therapists he’d been considering. Then he remembered himself and bit his lip. “Uh, you go first.”

He didn’t know if his father had even heard him. He was turned towards the window, before looking back at his son.

“I always wondered… I knew you were hiding something. Your behavior was so… unlike yourself.”

Adrien’s brow furrowed.

“Father?”

“I am not mad at you Adrien, though I admit, at first…”

He turned around, simmering anger in his usually cool eyes.

“I couldn’t believe you would be able to hide something of that importance from me. Clearly, I was wrong.”

“Father, I- “

“No. Listen to me, Adrien. This might be our chance, our onlychance. Your mother’s only chance.”

The room seemed to get colder. Gabriel talked on.

“I never thought I would be able to involve you, always thinking you might be too… fragile. I see now that this was a mistake. If I had been more open in my endeavor, this would have ended a long time ago. But maybe it needed to happen. It needed to happen, so that you would truly understand what needs to be done.”

What do you mean, Adrien wanted to ask, but his mouth was frozen shut. Something icy was growing in his chest. In his pocket, he clutched a colorful little lucky charm like a lifeline.

“Adrien.”

His father stepped closer.

“I know that you were Chat Noir.”

Somewhere, deep in his soul, his subconsciousness was already connecting the final dots, only waiting for his mind to catch up. It kindly refused the invitation, choosing to revel in blissful ignorance for a few more minutes.

“I… F-father, I… I swear- “

“It’s alright, son. Everything will be alright. Look at me, Adrien.”

He did. He did, and he did not know who he was looking at.

“My son,” his father said, and there was a spark in his eyes that scared him, “it seems so fitting. That all of us would carry such a burden, at one point. As if fate itself kept a close eye on our family.”

“You are Hawkmoth.”, someone said. It took both Agreste’s a few moments to realize it had been Adrien who’d said it. And even then, it took Adrien’s mind several more to put ‘blissful ignorance’ back into its box and catch up with his subconscious and mouth. The lucky charm in his pocket felt cold, so cold, like it had felt only once before.

At TV1.

“You are Hawkmoth,” he repeated, and his voice didn’t falter. Neither did his father.

“I understand if you feel… betrayed.”, the latter said slowly, pronouncing the last word like something spiky he didn’t want to get too close to. “There is much you don’t know yet. But until I show you, I need you to remember that we are family. And that we have a common goal, and since quite recently, a common enemy.”

In his head, his thoughts were racing, too fast to be of any use to him. He felt numb. But fifteen years of experience with his father had taught him when to be quiet, and when to ask questions.

“A… common enemy?”

“Yes.”

His father smiled. It looked wrong.

“You were a hero. You were the Black Cat, you were Chosen. But they took that from you. The moment you didn’t meet their expectations anymore, they tossed you aside. As if you hadn’t sacrificed so much for them. I saw you, everything you did for them. For her.”

“Ladybug.”

The word felt odd in his mouth, as if it didn’t want to be said. His father’s smile widened.

“Ladybug,” he agreed, and if the name had hesitated on Adrien’s tongue, it positively rebelled on Gabriel’s. It sounded poisonous, dripping with disdain. “And the Guardian. And, not to forget, the imposter that took your place.”

Adrien looked up at him, slowly.

“You akumatized me.”

His father didn’t flinch. But he blinked, once, before stepping back.

“So I did.”

He turned around, towards the window. Towards Paris beyond, that feared him every day.

“Imagine my surprise when I learned that the one I was doing this all for was the one fighting me, all along. That the key to our happiness had been beneath my very own roof.”

He shook his head.

“The past is in the past. I know exactly how you felt, in that moment. I could feel it firsthand. How alone. Abandoned by those that should have stood with you.”

He turned back around, facing his son. For the first time in what felt like forever, there was genuine emotion on his face.

“Adrien, if you still feel that way, then we can fix it. Together. We can retrieve your Miraculous, and every other Miraculous too!”

He gripped his shoulder with unexpected strength, eyes wide.

“Adrien, I know just how deep Ladybug’s betrayal cut you. But now that you see her for what she really is, you have the power to make her regret. To take back what you deserve, what you are owed.”

He remembered Lila. Her power to make people believe anything. Just by knowing what they wanted to hear.

“Imagine it, son.”

Adrien imagined.

Being Chat Noir once more. The thing in his life he had loved so much, so much.

But he knew, it hadn’t been the costume he’d loved. When he thought of being Chat Noir, he thought of Plagg’s annoying voice. His constant company, his purrs. He thought of Ladybug and laughter, and racing over rooftops with someone that believed in him.

He thought of escape. Why did he want to escape?

Alone. Abandoned by those that should have stood with you.

He hadbeen alone, for so long. He had been abandoned.

“I love you, Father.”

He looked up. His father looked confused.

“I will always love you.”, he added, and the words felt right. They felt true. He smiled.

“Of course I will help you! I have always supported you, no matter what.”

Because what else could he do?

“I knew I could trust you.”

He was no hero anymore.

“I am so proud of you.”

And he was no villain either.

“You’ll see, Adrien.”

He was a child.

“It will all be worth it, in the end.”

A child that knew he could become everything his father wanted him to be.

A child thatwould not.

“Of course, Father.”

He would not become like Bordeaux. Like Lila.

Like Gabriel Agreste.

“Let me show you the reason for all this.”

Adrien felt like he knew already. Like it would be painful. Like it still wouldn’t change anything. And yet, he smiled. He smiled, the exact same smile he had always worn when his father ignored another birthday. The smile for when his father turned his back yet again. The smile that was so false it hurt.

The smile that would have given him away if his father had looked at him just a little bit closer, those past few years.

“I’m right behind you,” he said, reaching out with one hand for his father’s, with the other for his phone. He had no way to contact Ladybug now. But he knew someone who could. Whose lucky charm was in his pocket, comforting and warmonce again.

He wasn’t scared. He wasn’t angry. He knew exactly what needed to happen, and that she would makeit happen.

“With your help, Adrien, this will all be over soon.”

Alone. Abandoned.

Oh yes.

Distant, dismissive, derogatory.

He was right.

I will not disappoint you.

More so than he knew.

“My son,” his father said, and Adrien was so sure he could see love in his eyes. “Now I know that we will be victorious.”

With that, Gabriel Agreste started walking away.

And Adrien, no longer the obedient son, followed.

[gayestnerdsinfiction]

Rivalry

requested by @micapearls (ed hearing jon full body laugh for the first time)

Ever since he first met Jonathan Crane, Edward has had an unshakable fixation on eliciting any type of emotional expression from the other man. To the untrained eye it would appear Jonathan was unable to experience any human emotions beyond displeasure and annoyance. Jonathan doesn’t cry, he doesn’t shout when they argue, he doesn’t allow any facial expression to inadvertently cross his stoic features. Over time, Edward has been able to get a better feel for the subtle cues that indicate his partner’s emotional state, but Jonathan still makes an effort to hold his feelings and opinions close to his chest. Edward wants so badly to break him of this habit. He’s lost count of the amount of meaningless arguments he’d blown out of proportion in the hopes of making Jonathan visibly angry. But perhaps that’s just trauma reenactment.

It was after one such failed attempt to goad Jonathan into an argument that Edward finally got what he was looking for. He had unsuccessfully tried to get a rise out of the other man, throwing out the cruelest, most spiteful things he could think of. Things he didn’t mean, things he doesn’t want Jonathan to think he meant. Unfortunately, this only resulted in Jonathan disappearing off into the lab, leaving Edward to sulk alone in the living room. He’s sitting on the couch, staring absently at the television when Jonathan finally reappears from the basement, his expression as austere and unreadable as ever.

“I’m having a drink,” the older man announces, breezing past Edward and into the kitchen. He removes a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet and holds it up for Edward to see. “Do you want one?”

Edward doesn’t particularly care for whiskey but he can recognize a peace offering when he sees one. He nods wordlessly, sliding to one end of the sofa to make room for Jonathan to sit if he wanted to.

Jonathan pours the two drinks, bringing them into the living room and handing one to Edward. He accepts. Takes a small sip, trying to ignore the unpleasant taste.

“What are you watching?” Jonathan asks as he sits down a respectful distance away from Edward.

“News,” he says. “I’m looking at it more than I’m really watching it.”

Jonathan studies the screen for a few moments, sipping his own drink steadily. “Turn up the volume,” he says abruptly.

Edward obliges, directing his own attention to the TV as well. The reporter onscreen is standing in front of the Gotham University campus. There are cop cars and officers crowded around the building, many of them with heavy tactical gear and weapons.

“Shit, I hope whatever this is doesn’t screw up the heist I had planned for next weekend,” Edward mutters as he puts his drink down on the table.

“…As you can see the police are behind me attempting to negotiate the release of the thirteen hostages currently being held on the University grounds.” The camera cuts away from the reporter to show a closer shot of the police officers at the scene. Edward can make out commissioner Gordon speaking into a walkie-talkie at the front of the group. Bullock stands beside him, looking generally burly and gruff but otherwise not contributing much. “The location and condition of the hostages is unclear; all we know is that those thirteen students and faculty members are trapped somewhere in the Joker’s sadistic maze. More updates on the way as we continue to document the most recent criminal exploits of Gotham’s most fearsome criminal.”

“Ouch,” Jonathan says dryly. “Seems unfair that I’m not the most fearsome criminal in this city but I suppose there’s no accounting for taste.”

Edward, in the meantime, is too busy trying to navigate the mixture of anger, surprise, and jealousy that has begun burning in his chest to even register Jonathan’s comment. “He—I feel like I’m having a stroke, I mean, did that reporter say what I think she said?” he splutters, standing up from the couch to gesticulate wildly at the screen.

“What’s your problem?” Jonathan asks. “Joker does something like this every week, you can’t be surprised at this point.”

“You don’t understand,” he snaps, ignoring the heat he can feel rising into his face and ears. “I was going to do a sadistic maze at the university. Me! That fucking clown stole my idea! I mean, am I the only person with any goddamn integrity in this vile city?” He collapses back onto the couch, throwing his arms up. “I had the whole thing planned out, all the pieces built and ready to be set up and he just swoops in with his dollar store makeup and awful dye job and ruins everything like he always does. I mean, do you know how hard it is to build a maze from scratch and make it appear with fully functional traps and people in it before the cops show up? It’s not easy, I’ll say that. And it’s not cheap either!”

Jonathan watches Edward’s hysterical monologue in silence, takes a few moments to digest the entirety of the rant, and then bursts out laughing.

Edward’s jaw drops. Usually when Jonathan laughs it’s little more than a sharp exhale or the hint of a smile. But this laugh is a loud, unrestrained cackle, so raspy in places it almost sounds like a wheeze. It’s the first time he’s ever seen his partner seem genuinely tickled by something and he can’t even enjoy it because it’s at his own expense. He can’t tell if he’s more shocked to see his partner’s entire body wracked with laughter, or more indignant that he’s being laughed at in the first place. He snaps his mouth shut, his face screwing up into a scowl. “It’s not funny.”

“It absolutely is. Your whole thing with the Joker is hilarious.”

“It is not! He’s completely destroying my reputation, my career in this town. I mean, now I can never do that heist I had planned because the Joker already did it and everyone’s already accusing me of ripping off his costume and gimmick. If I even mention that I had the same idea, then people are going to try and accuse me of stealing his fucking intellectual property too.” He gets up again, pacing almost frantically around the room. “It doesn’t even make sense for him to do something with a school, I mean, I’m the one whose whole aesthetic and MO has to do with knowledge and learning. He should go terrorize a fucking comedy club or something, leave the higher education to those of us whose brain cells haven’t been fried by a vat of acid.” He glares at Jonathan who is still doubled over with laughter. “Stop laughing at me, I’m serious.”

He raises a hand to cover his mouth, though it does nothing to soothe his amusement. “I’m sorry. But you have to admit, you sound ridiculous right now.”

“I fail to see how this is ridiculous.”

“You’re demanding artistic integrity from a man who dresses like a clown and kills people for fun.” Jonathan manages to stifle his laughter a bit, but Edward knows he’s never going to let him live this down. “Besides, neither of you went to college so I don’t see how you have more of a right to a university based maze heist than him.”

He rolls his eyes. Jonathan loves to point out that Edward never went to college because it’s the only real accomplishment he has that Edward couldn’t easily replicate. Just because Jonathan suffered through nine years of higher education that would have driven Edward into a murderous rage doesn’t mean he’s better than him. “A maze is a type of puzzle is it not? Last time I checked I was the prince of puzzles which, in my eyes, makes me more entitled to use mazes in my traps. I also think it makes me sound cooler. I mean, ‘clown prince of crime’? How pathetic is that.”

“They’re both pathetic,” Jonathan says. “I don’t know why people keep trying to call us princes like we’re not all broke psychopaths.”

“I’m not broke.”

“But you don’t deny being a psychopath?”

Edward continues to glower at the other man who is still fighting against a smile. “I can’t believe you’re not on my side right now.”

Jonathan shrugs. “I mean, you have to admit your costume color schemes are remarkably similar.”

“They are not! My preferred color scheme is green and purple, his is purple and green, okay, they’re distinctly different!”

“Edward,” he says, using that tone he always takes when Edward is acting irrational, “Don’t you think you’re taking this a bit too seriously?”

“Not in the slightest,” he insists, knowing that this is arguably a stupid thing to care about. “You’ll never know what it’s like to always play second fiddle to everyone’s favorite costumed criminal. At least people are scared of you. Everyone just thinks I’m some kind of joke thief.”

“Well, maybe you need to give them something to be scared of. Show them you mean business.”

“Oh yeah? And how do you propose I do that in a way that is both on brand and not derivative of the Joker’s own crime sprees?”

Jonathan’s smile changes, becoming less humorous and more devious. Edward can see the familiar gleam in his eye that indicates the Scarecrow’s mind is hard at work. There’s the Jonathan he’s used to. “I bet I could give you a few ideas,” he says slyly, finishing the rest of his drink in a single swallow. “If you don’t have any qualms about torturing people.”

Despite the fact that he’s still annoyed with Jonathan for making fun of him, Edward can’t help but flash a smile back at the other man. There’s just something about those clever, sinister eyes that always draw him right back in. “What did you have in mind?”

[cherry-interlude]

Lana Del Rey Unreleased Ranking (3)

This is a re-ranking of Lana's unreleased songs, after making a first a few years ago. This is all my opinion, which I don't mind anyone disagreeing with but don't come for me for it - honestly, I like every song, despite any criticism, and this ranking is very vague. It's based on objective and subjective opinion.

This is the third of five posts, with the middle songs.

Dreamgirl

Purely wholesome and dreamy, Lana adds some very fifties “shoo-wops” to play a fifties starlet whispering, her vocals soothing and soft along with the looping piano that guides the song.

Jimmy Gnecco

Breathless over the brisk guitar, Lana gushes over Jimmy – mixing her adoration of her lovers with wannabe-starlet fangirling. It’s one of her best acoustic tracks as she smirks and requests a trip to the park.

Elvis

Lana’s acoustic dedication to her icon Elvis Presley is memorable despite how stripped back it is. It could have been cleaner but Lana’s sorrowful desperation to be close to this man who she is such a fan of works well in being decent output from her.

Boarding School

It’s a difficult listen, considering Lana’s nostalgia is for a “pro-ana nation” and a school where “makig love with your teachers” is revered, but it may just be a satirical look at her time in boarding school when she was younger. I don’t enjoy listening to such worrying topics being handled in an upbeat song but the song itself has well-written lyrics and a great instrumental.

Television Heaven

This song is incredibly sweet, with lovely lyrics, dreamy verses and a distinctive pop feel, but it is definitely a strange mash of instrumentals. It’s not too jarring but it does make the song fall lower in ranking. It feels indecisive as it goes from sugary pop to a slightly darker feel in the choruses, and the lyrics aren’t the most imaginative in Lana’s library of tracks.

Be My Daddy

Lana’s full on sex-kitten in this song that opens with twangy guitars and her hushed “what’s up?” as she greets her potential “daddy”. With dirtier lyrics that she’s “open like a Christmas present” and how she’ll “fuck you”, Lana avoids keeping the sex in just the vibe of the song.

Break My Fall

Another song made for another artist, Lana this time sounds like she’s doing her own track. The pop sound is still ideal for actual music charts but Lana pulls the song off well, playing a strong woman far removed from the tragic women of many of her songs. It’s strong in quality and doesn’t stray into more experimental territory where many of Lana’s unreleased songs reside.

Hit and Run

With three versions to pick from (the poppy original, the Born To Die style slower version and the demo Criminals Run The World that’s a little more overt about Lana’s violent intentions), all three of these songs have something special about them. The pop version is bouncy and chaotic, perfect for a wild spree of gun fights and car chases. The slower version is much more seductive and measured, but a little too reflective compared to the manic power of the upbeat version. Criminals Run The World ranks much lower, not as smooth compared to Hit and Run but still with that insanity that makes Hit and Run a wild ride.

Heavy Hitter

With a jazzy introduction, Lana gives us a glamorous tale of a star having an overdose (somehow she makes it glitzy). However, following the suggestive chorus in which Lana asks her man to open his butterfly doors of his car (to drive her to get help, somehow delivered with seduction rather than horror), the lyrics get lost in Lana’s generic praising of herself and her wicked ways. However, it’s a staple of Lana’s unreleased music, even if I do skip after the (if you think about it) harrowing first verse and chorus.

Behind Closed Doors

The instrumental is a little bit all over the place, but it does work when Lana details her ill-received romance to her lover, then jumps right in the chorus to eagerly tell him how much she enjoys sleeping with him.

Gangsta Boy

Lana is inspired by Betty Boop as she croons and gasps her way through the track. The vibe is great, though the music falls a bit, but Gangsta Boy is playful, light-hearted fun.

You’re Gonna Love Me

Lana may be raw in her vocals and basic in her instrumentals (only a guitar) but Lana takes control, self-assured she will make the listener adore her. Her confessional whisper that she might just want to be loved gives this song a knowing edge despite the pondering questions and realism-on-the-edge-of-pessimism feel tone.

Living Legend

Lana’s Living Legend was intended for Ultraviolence, and whilst the song fits in it is definitely one of her more slumbering songs. Yet her sentiment is strong, her lyrics thoughtful and thoroughly enjoyable. All of the versions bring something a bit different but it is underlined by great song-writing.

Hey You

Lana has fun greeting a potential lover with this track and I have as much fun listening to it. The chorus is sparse and repetitive but Hey You is all about grabbing your attention rather than going to deep.

Is It Wrong?

Claustrophobic and guided by a smart riff and technological glitches, Lana pulls off the perfect unhinged groupie as she questions whether or not she is wrong for wanting the star of her dreams so much. The glitching is great for really seeing how Lana teeters on the edge of sanity for this guy she can’t resist, going from being the starlet to the foaming-at-the-mouth fangirl.

Playground

Lana becomes a rapper apparently in Playground and hits back at anyone who doubts her and her music. With a cloying chorus that compares the music industry to a playground of bitchy comments and school yard, Lana’s verses are smooth and her references overall decent. It can be a little bit clunky in places but it doesn’t take itself too seriously.

Motel 6

A cute little dance track which namedrops Jim and her sister, Chuck, Lana brings the party to her favourite motel, downplaying her glamour to throwback her ‘lore’ and her old life pre-fame. Though it’s very much just describing one night rather than anything complex, it’s harmless fun.

Dynamite

Like the explosive dynamite itself, this song is punchy, restless and powerful. Lana layers this dominating track with innocent references to ice cream and pillow fights whilst also not holding back from the sexual references.

Afraid

Neat and mournful, Lana finally breaks off from her toxic partner. Lana is either sick of being worried for the future or terrified of her partner, and its reflective sadness as she plans to go back home still leaves hope that she will be able to be happy.

Wayamaya

Rolling calmly like a beach wave, Lana takes us straight to Hawaii and paints us an image of handsome surfers and Mercurys. Wayamaya is simply a soothing, short, cute little track that keeps very much surface level.

Hawaiian Tropic

Plinky music paired with non-stressful verses and imagery of Hawaiian shirts, this is the (in my opinion) better version of Every Man Gets His Wish (which shares the same chorus). The subtlety of this track compared to Every Man Gets His Wish helps to convey the hurt feelings a lot better, with the nostalgic feel and mournful longing in the vocals.

Dum Dum

Lana plays the alcoholic star who name drops Scarlett O’Hara and Bugsy Malone as part of her identity. These lyrics are pretty witty and the song snappy but, like some of her unreleased music, is a bit too overproduced and not cohesive. The verses and choruses don’t quite gel which doesn’t make for a song that flows well but with tweaking it could be even better.

Hollywood’s Dead

Lana fits perfectly into the era of fifties with this mid-20th century driven track. It sounds perfectly in place for the decade she frequently romanticises (with a modern twist) and Lana’s crooning, tearful references to her icons drips with glamour.

Fake Diamond

For an anti-romance song, Fake Diamond is quite upbeat. Lana complains of her ‘lover’ who is one way with her, a different way with others, whilst comparing their relationship to all manner of Lana-themed aesthetics (diamonds, movie projectors, etc.). Comparing herself to a child, she practically has a tantrum in the chorus, stamping her feet lovingly as she demands he loves her. I do think this song is joyful, making fun of her inattentive lover whilst keeping one step ahead of his games.

I Must Be Stupid

Lana’s live unreleased track lets Lana enjoy her life despite the hurt that surrounds it, showing strength in the face of heartbreak and other such topics in her music. It was performed post-Lust For Life, an era in which Lana embraced the light side rather than simply the dark.

Live Or Die

The version that is a little bit more lowkey and, in some ways, mature in that it matches a lot of her early albums sound is good but it’s not my favourite. There’s the heady, ultra-pop second version that has plenty more sexy references, a little meow (iconic) and an overall vibe of just having fun on the run. The former version is a bit more serious, but the second is – though less good in terms of production – full of soul.

Velvet Crowbar

Velvet Crowbar is a song that shows the dark side of fame and bad boys, namely the way they self-destruct to the point that their adoring lovers (already addicted to these gangstas of course) are falling with them. This song is a warning to these destructive souls that they aren’t invincible, and an equal warning to the people that love them that they might just fall apart and lose them. Lana puts her emotion across so well, with her stark lyrics, anxious guitars and growling third chorus. Even her more flowery imagery doesn’t cover up the overt fear that runs through this song.

Your Band Is All The Rage

Probably one of Lana’s saddest songs (which could be a great deal many since she knows how to tug heartstrings), Lana lets go of her rock star lover despite still loving him in this acoustic track. She makes soulful promises to be there when he needs him, her love lingering until he wants her back, and utilises the country music theme to her advantage.

1949

The studio version is my favourite but the charm of the original, acoustic demo is unmatched. Despite the controversial inspiration for this track, Lana puts us straight in the world of the 1950s, with American motels and Kmart. It has a note of sadness – perhaps because of the unfortunate tale of Lolita that much of this song seems based on – but it works as one of Lana’s aesthetically pleasing and classic tracks.

Because of You

The spoken intro is a little bit cringe but the song is lovely. Lana plays an immature brat who fell in love with a good man who essentially tamed her (a little bit questionable for some in 2021). It’s got some of her most flowery imagery and it details how her relationship bought out the best of her. The casual comments she throws in throughout the song give this a real bedtime story feel, though this song is anything but sleepy.

Resistance

Frustrated but fun, Lana’s catchy and upbeat Resistance brings to mind surfers and sunny days set in the noughties. Even though she’s furious with the guy who’s causing her so much trouble it still, for a change, stays perky and pleasant. A song that needs more attention, it’s the type of song that gets people singing and dancing along to it.

Dangerous Girl

With a rock-feeling patriotic opening, Lana launches into a track about her prowess as a dangerous girl, like a deranged beauty queen with a gangsta on her arm. It’s simply fun, complete with wolf-whistles and an impression of a siren.

[niksixx]

Plus One

Hello hello hello!!! Here it is. Part 1 of my new Nikki Sixx mini fic. I love this piece, and I just hope you all will enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it. This fic has more of a modern feel (so basically, present day setting with an 80s Nikki Sixx 😃).

Requested: Graciously by my incredible followers and mutuals :) 

Pairing: Nikki Sixx x OC Pia Worthington

Description: Fake dating your best friend when you’re secretly in love with him? Pia Worthington knows exactly how that feels. 

A/N: Leave comments and reblog💜 Thank you always💜

*Picture is NOT mine. Found on Google. Credit to the owner.*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Pia’s POV*

As I clutched the red embroidered invitation in my left hand, the black decorated RSVP in my right hand, and stared down at the gold embellished invite on my kitchen counter, I realized that my worst nightmare had come true.

High school reunion.

Work party.

Wedding.

And a plus one line on all three cards.

At twenty-seven, I’d like to think that I am a successful woman with her priorities straightened out. I opened my own small business at seventeen, landed a job as a makeup artist in a beauty salon at twenty two, and became a homeowner at twenty five. On Thursdays, I run a book club, and volunteer at my local SPCA on Monday and Wednesday mornings. From an outsider’s perspective, one could say I have it all.

But like everyone else, I’m still not satisfied with my life. There’s something missing, something I won’t be complete without.

Love.

How cliche, right?

I know what you’re thinking. Pia, you’re a young, successful, independent woman. You don’t need a man. You shouldn’t want a man.

But of course, the only man I’ve ever wanted never wanted me back. Funny how that works.

Again, I’m only twenty-seven. Time is still on my side. But I’d be lying to you if I said I didn’t think about giving up sometimes. I see my friends falling in love, getting married, having babies, and I want that for myself.

Well...most of that. I can do without the kids part. What I want, what I truly want, is a wholehearted love. And one man always comes to mind no matter how hard I try to push him away.

Aside from being my neighbor, Nikki has been my very best friend and the love of my life for so many years. Our friendship blossomed ten years ago when his friend group mingled with mine back in our third year of high school. We were a crazy bunch with various personalities, but it just worked. We all clicked.

Out of the eight of us, Nikki and I were thick as thieves even though our personalities couldn’t be anymore polar. While I was best friends with Amanda, Charlotte, and Vivian since the fifth grade, my relationship with Nikki was just so different. There were things I could talk to him about, and instead of Charlotte’s judgment, I was greeted with Nikki’s comfort. We were an adventurous duo, never doing the same activity twice, which was a huge difference from letting Vivian decide what our group would be doing each weekend.

Aside from being my best friend, Nikki was the biggest supporter in my life. He was the only one that stood by my side, defending my integrity, when my friends were skeptical about my lipstick business. Of course, when I became more established, the girls had dropped dollars on every shade and made sure all the girls in our class knew about my business. But Nikki? He let me test the lipstick. On him.

Senior year was the year when some of our group decided to take things to the next level. Vince and Amanda experimented as a couple, and it unsurprisingly only lasted a good four months before Vince had moved on. At eighteen, he’d already had a reputation for sleeping around, and Amanda, the poor soul, was just clueless to his cheating.  

I think the biggest shock was when Nikki and Charlotte had started dating halfway through senior year. From the sidelines, I watched as they became the it couple. I was happy for them, (while simultaneously trying to bury my jealousy), but I had a hard time wrapping my head around the idea of them together. I never would have thought that Nikki’s carefree spirit would mesh well with Charlotte’s stuck up attitude, but for the year they were together, I was proven wrong. Luckily, my relationship with Nikki wasn’t affected. We were still each other’s best friend.

And then college happened.

Well, for some of us.

Vivian and Charlotte attended the most prestigious universities money could buy, and Amanda and I had been accepted into cosmetology school. Luckily, my small business was booming, and I was able to pay for my classes without any help from my family. While the girls and I were off getting our degrees and licenses, the boys were forming a band. An interesting one at that.

By junior year of college, Nikki and Vivian had become official shortly after Viv’s 21st birthday. Again, I watched from the sidelines as the man that I loved gave his love to another woman for three years. This time, I could feel a shift in my friendship with Nikki. We talked a bit less than what was normal for us. Over the years, I barely saw him. His band, officially named Mötley Crüe, had taken up the time he wasn’t spending with Vivian. I had become a mere afterthought, and my heart broke each time I wasn’t able to see him or talk to him. And, to make things even more strange, Tommy and Charlotte had drunkenly eloped in Vegas after one of the boys’ concerts and decided to stay married. At 24, it seemed like everyone was finding their soulmate. Nikki had Viv, Tommy had Charlotte, Mick and Amanda were giving it a try, and Vince and I both weren’t so lucky in the love department.

Fast forward a year later and life for all of us had changed drastically. Nikki and Viv had broken up and it was messy, to say the least. Nikki wasn’t too affected by the breakup, but Viv’s rage had turned her into a woman none of us knew. I had finally worked up the courage to tell Nikki how I felt (and believe me, I wanted to tell him) but, alas, shortly after Mick and Amanda had called it quits, Amanda and Nikki had fallen head over heels for each other. Vince and I were still painfully single (although Vinnie didn’t seem to mind the freedom) and were given the title of ‘godparents’ to Tommy and Charlotte’s son. The boys’ band had become one of the biggest bands in America. And to distract myself from the pain of watching Nikki fall in love yet again with someone who wasn’t me, I bought a house to wallow in.

Which, finally, brings me back to today.

I’m Pia Worthington.

27.

Homeowner.

Business owner.

Makeup artist.

And devastatingly single.

So, what happened to everyone else?

Well, Tommy and Charlotte remain happily married with two little boys. Who knew one drunken night in Vegas could lead to a happily ever after?

Mick and Vivian had married last year and were expecting twin girls. Yes, this shocked everyone, but they were a match made in Heaven. Who knew? Somehow, Mick had broken down the walls around Viv’s heart, and she loved him fiercely.

Vince and Amanda had decided to try again. I was proud of Vince. He’d done a complete 180, always treating Amanda with the respect she deserved.

And Nikki and I? We’re still best friends and closer than ever. We’re happy, all eight of us, after years of drama, devastation, and heartbreak.

With a sigh, I grabbed all three invitations in my hand and plopped down on my sofa. Okay, so I lied, I’m not completely happy. The plus one line on each invitation was just a painful reminder of how lonely I was.

And then my mind wandered to Nikki. Asking him to be my plus one would be practical, but I’m not sure my heart could handle knowing it wasn’t real.

But as I glanced down at the invitations once more, I realized that I couldn’t keep living like this. For years, I’d been pining over a man who dated all of my friends and neglected to give me a chance. I shouldn’t still want him as much as I do. He’s made it clear that I’m not and will never be more than a friend. And it’s about time I move on from the fairytale ending in my head.

So with a firm grip on the cards and a stern look on my face, I flung open my door and marched right over to Nikki’s house.

And he answered on the third knock, looking even more handsome than the last time I’d seen him.

Yeah...getting over the fairytale in my head? Not happening.