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supremeinlilac · 4 years ago

Text

The Weeping Angel

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2007

Warnings: none???

Summary: An introduction story with Billie Dean, how you met on the Hotel Cortez's devils night

A/N: For @lilypadscoven !! Thank you for always pushing me and being so supportive, here's your little Billie fic :)) ps sorry for any mistakes, I have yet to go through it <3

Gif by: @illuminated-blue

It wasn’t the first time you’d had to spend a night in a sketchy motel in downtown LA, and although you’d hoped you’d gotten yourself to a place where you wouldn’t need to rely on them, you knew it wouldn’t be your last.

The wallpaper was dusty, peeling at the join of the ceiling to reveal the damp clinging to the walls. You tried to ignore the mildew that crept across from the corners, dark and whispering and eery against the dirty white paint.

There was a hole where a past resident had quite obviously punched through the wall and into the bathroom, showing the fragility of the plaster that separated you from the rooms next to you. The room was alive with past anger, souls in the walls with spindly arms that reached for the living.

It was cold, and you shivered beneath the itch of the hotel blanket, wrapped loosely around your shoulders. The motel windows did nothing to still the cool draft of the city night, allowing it to cut through ill-sealed panes.

You’d left your college accommodation earlier that evening, clothes thrown haphazardly into a rucksack as you’d hurried to leave. You hadn’t time to collect your personal belongings in the rush, so you knew you’d have to return there at some point.

There was no point worrying about the why’s now, you were locked in the room and you were safe. Safely unsafe in one of the roughest areas you could find, but you knew they wouldn’t think to look here. You couldn’t bring yourself to care about the details of your leaving.

You could hear the almost constant wail of sirens as police cars zipped past the motel, piercing and fading as they neared and went.

You sat with your back against the wall, in the space beside the bed. Your laptop balanced on your crossed legs, you connected to the flaky hotel Wi-Fi to try and get some of your college work completed before your food arrived. You still needed to keep up with your work if you were to have any semblance of a future.

A muffled sniff broke your concentration, cutting through the thin wall to you. Trying not to pry, you refocused on the illuminated screen, words blurring as the sound didn’t cease behind you. Sighing, you tore your eyes away from your work and onto the floor.

You were meant to be keeping a low profile, goddamn it.

Listening, an ear to the rough wallpaper, you closed your eyes to better gage if the occupant next to you was simply unwell or was crying. You settled upon the latter when a clatter of what you assumed was the bedside lamp fell to the floor, and the sniffling intensified.

“Are you alright?” you spoke to the wall, wrapping your knuckles against the plaster to show that you were talking to her.

Another sniff, this one an obvious attempt to disguise it as a cough. Feminine, you concluded, closing your laptop and sliding it onto the bed so you could shuffle around.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” Billie spoke, the pads of her fingers coming to wipe hesitantly under her eyes at the smear of mascara.

She stopped pacing at the sound of your voice, coming to kneel at the wall where she thought you’d come from. Unknowingly, you both reached up to the wall with searching fingers, resting on opposite sides in a fateful mirroring. Reaching out.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I-” she paused, voice cracking as she shook her head in surrender, “no.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“I- I can’t,” Billie confessed, forehead falling to the wall with a thud that you felt from your side.

You could practically hear the pain in her voice, the fear. You nodded in understanding, despite her not being able to see you. Luckily for the mysterious woman in room 124, you were capable in the art of distraction and it was an apt skill for moments like these.

“Okay. Well, urm- I, what’s your favourite colour?”

“I don’t- wait what?”

Her confusion had you subconsciously repeating the question, fingers pressed to the wallpaper as if you’d slip right though and into the woman’s arms, able to hold her and chase the demons that plagued her.

“Pink,” she rasped, “like the faded kind.”

You hummed, your stranger in pink.

“What’s your name?”

“Billie Dean Howard,” she paused, a small smile flickering at the corner of her mouth, “medium to the stars.”

“I’m Y/n. Medium to urm, LA?” you laughed uncomfortably, unsure of why she’d spoken her name as if a catchphrase.

Billie’s eyes narrowed to the wall momentarily, were you mocking her? She felt the tugging need to feel offended by your taunt, the familiar jolt of anger under skin. It would be easier to be mad, to rage at the world for giving her this gift and putting her in danger; but the silk to your voice softened her.

“You don’t know me?” She assumed, an expecting tone in her voice that made you faulter. You’d never really been one for reality television, even for factual programs like Billie’s.

“I’m sorry, should I?”

“No, I suppose not,” she trailed off, happy that you were in the dark about her personality. Glad you

People who knew her were curious, always asking questions she would be too eager to answer with a bat of her lashes and a confident tone. But on this occasion, she was relief that no questions would be asked.

Questions about what happened would be dangerous if answered. She knew she could never speak of the happenings if she valued her life, or those around her.

Billie Dean wasn’t stupid. But she was scared.

Your phone buzzed beside you and Billie jumped, hand to her chest to still the frantic beating of a nervous heart. Your food had arrived, and you moved away from the wall with a whispered goodbye.

Your new absence was overwhelming for the medium, panic looming as eyes darted around the dimly lit room. Lights from passing cars cast menacing shadows across the walls, each resembling ghosts from the hotel.

Reaching claws to drag her back to the Cortez, a change of their mind. Why should they let her go, when they could have much more fun with her in that chair.

Tears fell freely again and she let out a strangled sob. The phantom touch of the knife against her throat had Billie reaching up to push it away, the whir of the hand drill behind her closed eyes. She’d been so close to death, practically tasting its breath against her tongue as it mocked her.

The crack of a knock against her door pulled her from herself, and had her hastily wiping her tears with the back of her palm, smoothing down the dress with trembling hands.

Was it her, at the door, ready to finish her off?

Treading lightly against the scraping of old carpet, Billie Dean made her way to the door, fingers ghosting over the handle as she willed herself to be braver.

Through the peep hole, with Billie holding a nervous breath, she saw your back, and how you kept glancing up and down the corridor as if someone were to jump out. So you were frightened of someone, something, too. Just as she was, running.

With a shaky exhale, Billie drew the door open. You turned at the familiar click of the mechanism, a shy grin ghosting on your face as you held the takeaway bags up in silent offering.

Hello.

She was so familiar, almost as if you could reach out and touch her and remember. As if your past self was emerging to greet you again. A phoenix in fire from the ashes, a weeping angel from the rubble of death.

It’s you. It’s going to be you.

You couldn’t help but rake your eyes over the mysterious women silhouetted in the doorway. She looked out of place here. Too perfect to be haunted.

Your stranger in pink wasn’t actually your stranger in pink.

She wore a cornflower blue dress that held delicate white flowers, too dainty and too perfect to be dampened by the tears that tracked through her natural make up. It was cinched at the waist and just served to make her look ever smaller, more frightened. Like a child awoke by a nightmare.

Her hair was dishevelled, and it haloed her face in rays of glowing honey.

A weeping angel.

She wore pearls around her neck. Expensive and slightly scratched, as they get when they are someone’s favourite accessory and must be worn.

You could see where her rosy acrylics had picked her skin raw, worrying it unforgivingly between the nails. See the pain and fear reflected in her eyes, could she see it in yours too?

“Hey,” she whispered, ushering you past her and peeking into the empty corridor as if staying out in the open for too long was dangerous for the both of you. Maybe it was.

In her room you saw no belongings, nothing personal that would serve to tie her to the space around her. It was as if she were an echo before you, neither here nor there. An angel sent and trapped as a mortal, an echo.

She patted the bed beside her, drawing the table closer for you to place the bag on. You hesitantly set it down, moving to perch next to her and shyly look down at hands clasped on your lap.

Uncomfortable silence filled the air, thick and suffocating and it made your joined hands clammy with sweat. You busied yourself by unwrapping the food on the table, there wasn’t much due to your need to save money and only buying for one, but it would go round. You didn’t suspect that she’d eaten that evening either.

“Thank you.” She smiled, and you offered her one of the boxes of food with a shy glance. You assumed she meant for more than just the food. Her eyes conveyed what her words could not.

There was only one pair of chopsticks so you passed it back and forth, wordlessly, gratefully. The hum of the TV balancing upon the wall giving a welcomed distraction from talking, although you talked anyway.

You’d described your degree, your hopes and plans while she listened, the hint of a smile again on the smudged lipstick. She still looked beautiful, you thought, even with her messed up makeup and leg that bounced unrelentingly against the floor.

She still looked like an angel to you, one carved from marble, imperfectly chipped by the sculptor. Too broken to be granted eternity but ethereal all the same. A mortal angel among the living.

The angel spoke with chords of light and you were caught, hanging onto every word that dripped effortlessly from her silver tongue. She spoke about nothing, about everything.

At one point, Billie Dean reached her hand tentatively towards your, searching for the comfort of a strangers touch. You didn’t shy away from that touch; because even though there was safety in loneliness, you couldn’t help but feel the shelter from her invisible wings.

Perhaps Billie Dean Howard could be your safety, and you hers.

You knew she was running, and maybe she could run faster if she had an encouraging hand held fast in her own. Your hand. You weren’t an angel but your hands were steady. They were strong and guiding and made of your own marble. Forged by your own touch instead of the delicate chisel of an artist.

Neither of you asked the other why salty tears dried against the curve of delicate cheek bones, knowing that knowledge would do nothing but bring more pain. More pain that neither needed.

After all, misery likes company, and both of you were content to give that, even just for the night.

You hoped for more, but could learn to settle for a single moment of her presence, if that was all the weeping angel could allow.

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#sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #billie dean howard #billie dean howard x reader #american horror story #ahs #ahs imagine #ahs murder house

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sisterofsomeone · 4 years ago

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Personal Training

- Katsuki Bakugou x fem!reader SFW

- Warnings: mention of harm, bandaging wounds, choking

- Summary: as a third year, you and your childhood friend Shinso have been moved from the general studies course onto the hero course. No one seems too keen on you two, until you meet Bakugou late one night in the training city and he seems to take a personal interest in you

———————

Wandering around the testing sites at midnight wasn’t something you should be doing, but ever since you got moved from general studies into the hero course it was the only way you could calm yourself down after a day of training. It was dark, the cold air still around your skin and the only light shining was from the full moon above you. You’ve always dreamt of being a hero, but knowing you couldn’t control your quirk, knowing you had the ability to seriously hurt someone if you lost control, you applied for general studies and vowed to learn to control your power before you tried to move into the hero course. Your thoughts drifted to Shinso, you two had been friends for years going all the way back to nursery, just two toddlers constantly holding hands and only ever with each other. Your chest swelled with pride thinking about how both of you had beaten the odds and been moved from general studies to the hero course after all your efforts. You were in your third year, you’d missed a whole two years of the intense hero course training but it meant you two finally got the attention you deserved. You were finally seen as hero material. Sure you felt bad for the people who got moved out, but you didn’t know them and they were obviously not making the most of the opportunity, so you were glad to take their spot. You had to be a hero at any cost.

It was quiet around you, the only noise you could hear was your own footsteps, your breathing the only sign of life. Your breath was coming out softly but because of the cold it was visible, the curls and twists of your breath softly disappearing into the moonlight. You’d been wandering around the town for a few hours now, watching the silent, dead city around you, the buildings towering over you and the roads stretched out and empty. It reminded you of home, disappearing after long days being bullied at school and skulking through the dying streets.

“You shouldn’t be here.” You hadn’t noticed the boy sneaking up on you. You could understand why he currently held your throat in his hands, you did look exceptionally different in and out of class. You didn’t bother fighting his grip, you knew this boy and he would certainly overpower you in hand to hand combat.

“You with that hand guy? He sent you in here to spy on me huh?” His grip tightened but you never once broke eye contact. His red eyes blown out with anger, his lips curled into a snarl and his breath warm on your face.

“I-I’m in your c-class dumb arse.” You managed to get out between shallow breaths. “The o-one with Shinso all the time. The new girl.” He seemed to believe you, releasing his grip on you ever so slightly but still eyeing you with intrigue.

“She has floaty purple hair, and that weird dark aura quirk thing...” You weren’t necessarily in the position to roll your eyes at him, but surely he should have noticed that your whole ‘dark aura quirk thing’ changed your physical appearance too? You’d fought him enough. You decided to indulge him, letting your power grow until you changed in his hands, the light from the moon almost being drawn into you as the darkness swirled and danced around you. Your body surged with the release of this power, your skin feeling hot, as if it was about to burn right off of your bones. You had never been able to control yourself before UA, and this place had shown you how to harness this power and use it to your advantage.

“Okay creep -“ he released you suddenly when your darkness started creeping up his arm and pulling him in. “- I believe you.” He was wiping his hand on his trousers now, obviously feeling the same burning you always did. You pulled your darkness back in, your hair falling flat against you, your eyes returning to their natural colour and your skin settling down. Dusting yourself off, you stood to face Bakugou. He towered over you, the boy growing to be over six foot during your time at UA.

“It’s almost as if you should believe me, seeing as I also live on the same floor as you.” Raising an eyebrow you tried to register his reaction but he didn’t seem to be paying you any more mind.

“Oi, I’m talking-“

“Shut up, I’m not interested anymore.” Sticking his hands in his pockets he turned on his heel and walked away from you. But you weren’t gonna let him get away that easily.

“Oi fucker! You don’t get to talk to me like that!” You walked after him, grabbing his arm.

“Get off.” He snapped back, his eyes dark and angry.

“Not until you apologise for trying to choke me out.”

“Not gonna happen sweetheart. Don’t wander around on your own acting all sketchy and I wouldn’t have had to.” This was ridiculous, all you wanted was an apology.

“But what about you huh?” He stopped walking and turned to face you.

“You’re skulking around here too, does that mean I get to choke you?” You smirked up at him feeling proud of yourself when his eyebrows furrowed.

“You can try, but I’ll kill you if you do extra.” This fucking guy.

“Are you serious right now? Like, does this act usually work on your classmates? Because I’m not scared of an immature man child who can’t even apologise when he’s done something wrong.” In a blur he’d managed to pin you up against the wall that you swore was 15 foot away from you two only seconds ago, his body pressed into yours and his hand around your throat again. You felt his thigh in between your legs, and you couldn’t help the shudder that moved through your body when he spoke.

“You should be scared of me, I’m gonna be number one, I’m the best.” He was staring directly into your eyes, not breaking the gaze he was bearing down on you.

“You think you’re gonna be number one? I beg to differ.” His cockyness seemed infectious. “I’ll beat you Bakugou, just you wait.”

———————

It had been a few weeks since your little scuffle and you had been trying to keep your word.

“Y/n, are you seriously gonna try and fight Bakugou right now?” You’d filled Shinso in on what had happened between the two of you and even though you knew he believed in your abilities, he really didn’t think you were ready to fight him.

“I need practise, and I can never go all out with you because I care about you, you’re my friend! It doesn’t work!” You laughed and Shinso rolled his eyes. He always asked you to go all in when you two sparred but you couldn’t bring yourself to hurt him, even if you knew he wouldn’t hate you, you would hate yourself.

“Look, he’s finally done with Kirishima so now’s my chance. I’ll be okay I promise.”

You totally weren’t okay. Bakugou had kicked your arse, and all he had to do was get close enough that you could feel the heat from his skin and place a hand on your waist during an attack and your hormone-riddled brain freaked out. Not that he’d noticed you’d frozen mid fight, so he just kept firing off attacks as you scrambled to think up a defensive strategy. But it was no use, one well aimed hit and you were down.

You were with Recovery Girl in the nurses office when Shinso popped his head in.

“Told you so.” He said bluntly, drawing a tut from Recovery Girl.

“If you’re gonna be negative she doesn’t need you in here. She need positivity for healing thank you.” He apologised and moved further into the room.

“So, how are you feeling?”

“Tired I guess, and a little sore, but nothing bad. How did the rest of the lesson go?”

“Well, Bakugou and Todoroki got into another fight, Deku tried to break it up but that didn’t really work so they’ve all got dorm cleaning duties for the next week.” That got a chuckle out of you.

“Bakugou? Cleaning? Unlikely.”

“Oh yeah, Aizawa said he’d stop by randomly to make sure they were cleaning.” By now Recovery Girl had ushered you off of the bed and had begun handing you your clothes back.

“You’re all bandaged up, now get dressed and get out of here! And take some candy! You! Make sure she gets back to her room safely will you?” Shinso nodded as you slipped your jacket and shoes back on, wrapping his arm around your waist as a support. You were thankful for him, even if he was a miserable bastard most of the time.

———————

Shinso had managed to get you back in one piece, placing you on your bed softly. No one else had come to help, but you two had expected as much. Since being transferred in you had been singled out as the outsiders of the group, no one had even tried as much as to have dinner with you guys or watch the tv with you two. You were always alone together, you were each other’s rock.

“Hey Purple hair.” The voice behind him was rough and angry, you recognised it in an instant.

“Bakugou. What do you want?” Shinso tried to take no mind, keeping all of his focus on tucking you into bed.

“I need to speak to y/l/n. Alone.”

“I don’t trust you alone with her after today.”

“Let me speak to her.” Shinso turned to face him, his eyes burning holes into Bakugou’s head.

“After the stunt you pulled? No-“

“Toshi, I want to hear what he has to say.” You tugged on his shirt feebly, and his guard dropped. He always softened up around you.

“Fine. But I’ll be outside.” You mumbled a thank you as he barged past Bakugou, hitting him with his shoulder as he passed. Shutting the door behind himself, Bakugou entered your room looking oddly sheepish.

“Hey.” You started softly, not wanting to jump straight into a fight with the guy.

“Hey. About today? I mean, I’m not gonna say sorry because you asked to fight but I just wanna say that I should have noticed you freeze and let up a bit. I didn’t notice and Kirishima had to point it out to me later on, so yeah. Don’t come in unprepared next time.” Well. It was a start.

“Oh, I mean I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean to freeze up on you trust me!” You tried to laugh it off, but the atmosphere in the room was way too weird.

“Was it because I touched you?” You blushed at this and dropped your gaze to the floor. Where you really that easy to read? “Because if it was then Kirishima owes me $20.” Oh.

“No. I don’t know why I froze but it wasn’t because you touched me.” He smirked at this, moving to sit on the end of your bed. You instinctively pulled your legs closer to yourself but he took this as an invite to spread out more. You took in his toned shoulders, his strong arms and long fingers. Your mind drifted, wandering how good they’d feel slipping under your shirt and -

“You’re not even listening are you?” He pulled you from your dirty thoughts and you shook your head.

“Wow. I said that it’s a shame, because I’d love to explore what else I can make you do with my hands.” He had to be joking right? You blinked at him, your mouth agape with pure confusion.

“See? You’re all frozen again. I must have an effect on you.” He started moving closer to you, shifting on your bed until his lips were a mere inch away from yours. His eyes were boring into yours, but the pupils were flickering slightly from your eyes to your mouth. He raised a thumb to your lips, rubbing the calloused skin across your bottom lip. You swallowed, suddenly aware how fast your heart was beating and how clammy your hands had gotten.

“Bok-” He placed a finger on your lips as if you quiet you.

“Call me Katsuki, y/n. I have a feeling we’ll be training much more closely from here on out.” With that, he pulled away and stood from your bed. He left your room, glaring at Shinso who was waiting patiently outside. The purple haired boy ran into your room as quickly as he could, inspecting your face when he saw you red, hot and flushed.

“I’m not even gonna ask what happened here.” He scrunched up his nose in disgust.

“Oh, n-nothing happened. He just offered to train with me more.”

#my hero academia #mha #mha x y/n #mha fluff #mha x reader #mha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x you #mha bakugou #bnha imagines #bnha headcanons #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #bnha angst #boku no hero academia #bakugou angst #bakugou katsuki angst

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shoyouth · 4 years ago

Note

Hey you’re writing is really cute and I saw your hcs for a mc with a girlfriend and I really loved it! Do you think you can do a ikevamp suitors react to a transgender mc? One who was born female but identifies as a man? Lgbqt otome fans don’t get enough love so I’d be super awesome if you could write something ❤️

Hello darling!! I’m so sorry this took me a month or so to get to, but I’m glad to be doing it now! I also had an ask for a non-binary!mc but since I feel like all the suitors would treat the two similarly, I’ll be trying my best to fit it into one/accommodate both here :) hope you enjoy, love! Please lmk if anything sounds sketchy/offensive, since I don’t have experience with this myself!

napoleon ; okay. You stare at him dumbstruck bc he’s not taken aback for a moment, he just shrugs and then asks if you want to spar. I feel like he’d treat you v similarly to issac and jean even if you are his lover, bc there’s a v specific respect and care he treats those two with, a way he looks out for them. Would never falter with your pronouns, and if anyone makes a comment he’s like?? Your point?? They’re obv a man/non-binary, idk how you’re seeing a woman. He would also never hesitate to draw out his sword if anyone dared to grow a little too bold/rude.

arthur ; handsome ol’ chap! absolutely slathers you in compliments to validate your identity and make you feel confident, you almost wonder if he likes the way calling you by your pronouns rolls off his tongue. Though he normally was into women, I don’t think he would be opposed to dating you at all, and would grow icy with others who made comments about your relationship. He’s be very vocally supportive, but his teasing compliments will take a softer, more sincere turn if you ever need him to remind you that you’re valid.

mozart ; I see him helping you fix up your appearance ngl? Like not spending a bunch like comte, but silently aiding you in how to appear/act manly/non-binary for the 1800s, such as fixing/trimming your hair into a more “fashionable” look for the times, or nonchalantly informing you that your sleeves should be a little longer. He doesn’t do this to invalidate you at all! He thinks it’s a more subtle way of helping you feel confident navigating their world in your own way. Never hesitates to inform you that you look rather dashing that evening, or to run his finger along your chin with a proud/loving gaze in his eyes.

leonardo ; he’s immortal, he’s heard many a things that haven’t been considered ‘the norm’ for the times. He just kind of nods and takes a step back to admire your face, saying that your features are beautifully androgynous/masculine. If you bind your chest, he’ll frown if you suggest using a kind of corset, and will instead get to work tinkering a more comfortable and safe binding for you to use. Always refers to you as your desires pronouns, and corrects anyone who uses incorrect ones nonchalantly. He likes that he can get away with certain things with you that normal het couples wouldn’t be able to.

vincent ; I think he’d be intrigued and easily adapt to your pronouns; he’d treat you with respect regardless. He’s probably heard of transgender/non-binary before, but I think he, like leo, would spend a lot of time admiring your face and the way you present yourself. Will constantly compliment you, but unlike arthur, it’s not to fluster you or subtly make you feel confident, but bc he keeps finding things about you to be in awe of. You’ll be a very common subject in his sketches and paintings because of the way you hold yourself.

theo ; His brows raise a bit, but they lower just as quickly and he accepts it. You almost think he doesn’t care/remember bc he always calls you a dog instead of your name/pronoun, but he instantly corrects anyone who uses the wrong one, and glares at anyone who gives you shit. If you ever get down on yourself for your appearance not matching your identity, he sternly sits you down and firmly lists everything about you he finds beautiful and fitting to what you want to be. And though it wasn’t his intention, you never fail to grow flustered bc of the little details he’s picked up on, due to the nature of his job rubbing off on his own perceptiveness.

issac ; A little flustered boy. Similar to jean, I think he’d have the right attitude but be a bit clumsy about it. He doesn’t want to offend you! Ofc being trans/a man/non-binary doesn’t matter, he just loves you, but he’s anxious and overthinks how he address you, how he acts around you. Should he not call you petnames? Are those considered feminine? Am I invalidating them by using them?? He just grows stiff and nervous and you have to remind him to breath: just use the correct pronouns and respect you, there’s not much else to it. After a while he relaxes and it comes easier, but he just doesn’t want to lose someone else he loves of his own doing.

dazai ; I will admit he’s a little hard to grasp for me, but I believe that elusiveness is a part of his character anyways lol. Nothing about how he perceives you changes. You’re still you, aren’t you? Doesn’t matter what gender you are, what name you go by, what appearance you have. Maybe his nickname for you will change, but that’s it. I feel like with him you may not even be aware of your gender/it’s impact, bc when you’re with him it doesn’t matter, so you feel light and free from having to think about/act like your identity. You’re just you.

jean ; I think he would be open-minded to it, albeit confused. If you took the time to explain to him what you identify as and what it means, he’ll accept it, not one for many questions. I personally believe he’d be awkward about it a bit?? But would never treat you wrong! I mean in the sense of those clumsy lgbtq+ supporters with the right attitude, if that makes sense lol? So unsurely asking if you’d like to spar...? Or constantly looking to you for confirmation on things you like, what you do, etc etc. Ik jean is supposed to be silent and intimidating, but I imagine him as a clumsy man whose seen too much and doesn’t know how to act bc he was robbed of a childhood, so yeah hopefully this makes sense!

comte ; he’s seen even more than leonardo bc he’s immortal and timetravels; it doesn’t phase him. Tbh he just beckons you to come shopping with him so he can find you the latest male/androgynous fashion, with charming suits and coats and hats. For binding, he’ll try his best to buy you a safe kind, or he may enlist Leonardo’s help or even go to the future to find you one—nothing is too much/expensive when it comes to you. Will always treat you right/like royalty, and remind you that you’re valid and anything you need to feel that way, he will make it so. Gets a v dangerous look in his eye if someone disrespects you.

sebastian ; he’s from the future, so nothing new. Honestly he may even be relieved?? Idk he’s just so formal and polite that I think he’d feel more relaxed with another masculine/non-binary individual from the future, bc he would be able to talk in a certain way he would feel wasn’t as “proper” with a woman, if I’m making sense? He’d have no problem refering to you as your identity, and will always find a way to make you feel comfortable/valid, even if he needs to try and sew his own version of a binder for you.

shakespeare ; okay I’m sorry for those who like shakespeare but I feel like he’d lowkey fetishize it oof. Just like how I think he’d use unrequited love of a lesbian!mc to fuel his plays, he’d think of you as interesting inspiration—at first, at least. He’d run his hand through your hair, down your lapels as he admires you, amused, and it’s only if you grew cross and forced him to see you as your identity/a person, that he may fix his unhealthy perception. After reading Vincent’s route, I’ve come to think that you really need to push against him to reach his actual feelings/past his unstable/dangerous side. Once he’s over that, he would love to cast you as male roles in his plays, bc you have even more conviction than the regular men tbh.

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anjuschiffer · 4 years ago

Text

Amira Wayne - Chapter 15

Two updates in one day?! Hell yeah! As before, I’m catching up with @biodad-bruce-month‘s event.

Chapter 15: Rivalry

P.Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan @vixen-uchiha @nathleigh

Tag: @we-want-mini-mini @ramos123 @bluesimani @redscarlet95 @greatcatblaze @promiswords @fantasiame @corabeth11 @anonymously-odd @alexandriamw @officiallydarkgeek @galla02006 @maleive07

MASTERLIST | FIRST | PREV | AO3

Amira looked at the two miraculous boxes in her possession, sighing as she looked at the drawing board in her room. Thanks to Tikki, she didn’t have to deal with a tearful departure with her temporary team, something she didn’t think she would’ve been able to handle.

After all, she had adored Carapace’s and Gris’ company.

For now, she was to return them to Master Fu soon, along with discussing a few things regarding her suspect.

“Checking over the data and evidence, Amira?” Tikki asked, munching on some cookies Amira had baked earlier today.

Yes, she made them at five in the morning, but could you blame the girl? She was excited to see her friends again. Not only that, but Wally was going to stay with her for the week! So of course, Amira decided to bake some things for them, wrapping them into tiny bags to give to them later.

“While it may seem like I have all the evidence I need, I still need more. Without those final pieces, I can’t seal the case shut.”

“But didn’t you get the evidence you needed from your father’s-”

“It’s still not enough.” Amira said, looking at her suspect’s picture. “All the evidence points to him, but at the same time it doesn’t. I have his bank statements from just a little over a year, a few things sticking out to me.

An incubator, some gardening tools, a large order of milkweed along with other varieties of flowers and an order from a slightly sketchy butterfly farm.

Back in Gotham, whenever someone wouldn't want others to catch whiff of their plans, they would go through the hassle of having proxies and the sort. But he didn’t bother to do that.

Probably didn’t think anyone would see it odd as his profession calls for him to do the bizarre...at least to some extent.”

“So this suspect’s career allowed him to get away with being...bizarre?”

“A bit of a front, if you will. What makes him even more suspicious is the data I got after adding trackers to the akumas I would purify.”

“What did you get from it?”

“All the butterflies collect into a single area.” Amira circles a particular house on her map, glaring at it. “After all, all loyal creatures go back to the person or thing that cares for them with the utmost kindness. A bit ironic in this case, if you ask me.”

“But this is enough evidence Amira! With all this, you can successfully say-”

“That’s where you’re wrong Tikki. I still need photographic evidence. But very soon Tikki. Very soon, we’ll capture Hawkmoth.” Amira looked at Gabriel Agreste’s photo taped to her board.

She just needs a few more things and she’ll finally be able to take him down. She’ll be victorious.

---

“Baguette!” Adrien chirped, throwing himself onto Marinette, Chloé rolling her eyes.

“Adrikins. We’ve only been away for four days.”

“Four long days at that!” Adrien defended, breaking away from Marinette. “Next time we go to another gala, we’re taking you with us.”

Chloé didn’t miss the way Marinette stiffened, her face going a shade lighter than usual.

“Right...next time.” Marinette trailed, prying Adrien from her. “So, how was the oh-so-famed Wayne Gala? Lived up to its reputation?”

“Hardly.” Chloe scoffed, tossing her hair behind her. “Bunch of old people getting together and talking about setting up their kids to marry one another.”

“Really now?” Marinette said. “Please, do tell me more.”

---

Amira was glad to hear that the gala was a success, although she already knew that thanks to Dick.

With the gala talk occupying the majority of the group’s time, the school day had managed to go quicker than usual, not that Amira minded it.

Aside from hearing Chloe’s complaints about the gala, Amira also got to introduce Nino to them during lunch, Nino and Adrien quickly bonding over their love for Jagged Stone. Of course, their little gathering finished quickly once Alya caught wind of the reason why Chloe and Adrien were absent.

To avoid Alya from gathering any details, the trio decided to keep talking after school...or rather after fencing club through text.

Making sure that her knickers were in place, Amira proceeded to put on her plastron and jacket, carrying her headgear in hand. She was glad to have an actual partner for fencing again. As much as she liked sparring with Mr. D’Argencourt, it was starting to get overbearing whenever he would go on tangents on her becoming his next star pupil.

“Baguette! Have you been practicing despite me being gone?” Adrien asked with a smirk, only to get a scoff in return when the two got to their usual spots in the courtyard.

“Of course I have been. How else will I get better?” Marinette said, placing her headgear on. “Why don’t I prove it to you?”

Smiling, Adrien also placed his headgear on.

“En garde. Pret? Allez!” Adrien recited, lunging towards Marinette, only to be dodged and attacked.

“Attaque. Touche. Point!” Mr.D’Argencourt said with a smile. “Wonderful work, Marinette!”

“Shall we continue?” Marinette asked, getting into position. Chuckling, Adrien also got into position.

“En garde. Pret? Allez!”

Marinette quickly lunged towards Adrien, using his retreat to counter it, bringing her sword under his own and landing a hit on him.

“You really weren’t kidding. Attack, pare, riposte, counterattack. Just how much have you been practicing?”

“I only learn from the best.” Marinette answered back, bending her epee. “Mr. D’Argencourt-”

“Where is D’Argencourt? I wish to join the team as I heard that only le crème de la crème learn under his tutelage.” Someone roared, Adrien and Marinette turning to see a fencer in all red standing on top of the scoring machine.

Mr. D’Argencourt walked up to Rouge, examining them from head to toe.

“I am M. D’Argencourt and I will only consider your admission if you can defeat my best student.”

“And who is this student?” They asked, getting off the scoring machine.

Adrien and Marinette watched as the sea of club members that were once in front of them now left them exposed. “Which one of you is the best combatant?”

Marinette gladly stepped aside after pushing Adrien forward.

“Baguette! How could you? Top 10-”

“Oh don’t be so dramatic. You are Mr D’Argencourt’s best student, any way you look at it. So go on and make us proud!”

---

Marinette watched as the match escalated from using the scoring machine to her having to act as referee.

She followed the duel as they soon left the piste, Marinette so close on scolding the two for leaving the strip they were supposed to stay on (if this were an official match).

But pushing that urge down, Marinette watched with wonder as the duo kept parrying each other, surprised that this person was on par with Adrien.

Marinette was so drawn in by their match that not only did she follow them into the library, but she almost missed the final hit. Thankfully, she didn’t.

As the two stepped back from the position that clearly showed both of their epee on one another, Marinette was ready to declare the winner.

Yes it went pretty fast, but the match was still clear enough for her to know who actually won.

Marinette remained silent, letting Adrien and Rouge catch their breaths until Rouge decided to speak first.

“So...who won? Who got the first hit?”

Marinette watched as Adrien took off his headgear, his hair sticking to his face.

At this time, the rest of the club finally caught up, Mr. D’Argencourt demanded to know who won.

“Adrien, Mr. D’Argencourt. I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but Rouge here won. They landed the hit first.” Marinette announced, watching as Rouge take off their headgear, a smile on her face.

“I still remain victorious!” Rouge said, stabbing her epee into the air before letting it rest once by her side again.

Rouge, however, couldn’t help but notice Adrien’s staring between her and the person who watched their entire match.

Rouge watched as Adrien kept turning his head between the two, an unsettling grin growing as his eyes stopped on M D’Argencourt.

“M. D’Argencourt! You have to let her join the team!” Adrien said with a smile, confusing everyone. “By the way, what’s your name?” Adrien asked Rouge.

“Kagami. Kagami Tsurugi.”

“Adrien, where are you going with this?”

“Do you really not know what this means, M. D’Argencourt?”

“That adding Mlle Tsurugi to the team will help my reputation?”

“Well that, but you’ll have the strongest duo of female fencers under your tutelage!” Adrien said, running up to the referee of the match, taking off their headgear, Kagami feeling her eyes widen. “And they look practically identical.”

Kagami agreed. To think she would find someone who looked almost identical to herself…

“Adrien, is what you are saying true? That this person is just as good as I am?” Kagami asked, pointing her epee towards Marinette, causing her to gulp.

“He’s clearly exaggerating.” Marinette said, using her hand to gently lower the blade point towards her. “Oh, how rude of me. Name’s Marinette. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. And I can’t possibly be just as good as you if I just started fencing this year. That would be an insult to all experienced fencers out there.”

Adrien sheepishly rubbed the back of his head.

“But to get high praise from an experienced fencer,” Kagami said, getting into position for another match. “Show me Marinette. Show me this skill Adrien has seen worthy of his praise. En guarde!”

---

Amira flopped onto her beanbag, groaning into it as Tikki zipped out her jacket.

“That girl Kagami...she really is amazing, isn’t she?”

After Adrien happily stated that Marinette was on par with him, Kagami started a duel, keeping Marinette on her toes throughout the whole match.

While Amira was able to keep up with Kagami, it was nothing compared to her spars with Adrien.

Kagami relentlessly struck attack after attack, her attacks filled with such force, it felt as if Kagami’s epee was of some other material than steel.

Was she really just 13 years old like the rest of them? It felt as if she had more experience than someone her age should…

Abruptly getting up, Amira plopped herself into her computer chair, madly typing in the surname Tsurugi, only to be surprised to see Kagami and two other people’s faces appear in the search.

Amira let out a dry laugh, not believing her luck.

“So her whole family is into fencing, what are the odds.” Not only was her mother a two-time Olympic champion, her grandfather was a three time Olympic champion before as well. The two reasons why either couldn’t continue their streak was due to life-changing events. In Tomoe’s case, an incident that caused her to go blind.

“Wow. That’s very impressive!”

“Isn’t it? But I worry. Can you imagine the amount of pressure she has to carry? The pressure to uphold her family’s legacy?”

Amira stared back at Kagami’s photo, finally deciding to shut down her computer.

“Amira! It’s almost 5! You’re going to be late to the airport!”

“Airport? Wally isn’t coming via airport. He’s coming over via zeta tube.” Amira said with a grin, grabbing a coat and her keys before heading off to greet Wally.

---

Wally gaped as he took in his surroundings, not believing he was in Paris. He didn’t snap from his trance until something was shoved into his mouth.

“Flies are going to go in if you don’t close your mouth.” Amira said, placing a bag of cookies into his hands. He eagerly began to devour them.

How long has it been since he had Amira’s homemade cookies?

“Can you blame me?” Wally stuffed another cookie into his mouth. “This is my first time in Paris!”

“Wally. You’ve literally been to space. Heck, you live there.” Amira said, giving him a smile.

“Amira.” He gestured at the Eiffel Tower in the distance. “Paris.”

“Don’t get too comfortable now.” Amira said, watching as the two arrived at the bakery. “Things will be bound to get odd.”

Oh the urge Wally had to laugh when the ground began to shake, causing Amira to groan.

“Are you sure you’re Lady Luck? Because it sure doesn’t feel like it. Ow!” Wally exclaimed when Amira punched his shoulder.

“Whatever you do, don’t leave the bakery, understood? In case you forgot, Justice League members are banned from stepping foot into Paris.”

“Except for me, because you love me too much.” Wally said with a smile, not noticing the pink dust on Amira’s cheeks.

“Whatever.” Amira grumbled, pushing Wally into the bakery before going off to face today’s Victim.

---

Wally watched as Amira returned to her room, watching as she collapsed onto her bed, her Ladybird costume disappearing from her persona, Amira going back into wearing her red turtleneck shirt and black skirt.

“Magic. I would never understand.”

“Then don’t.” Amira said, though it came out muffled. “Do you mind writing something down for me?”

“Sure thing.” Wally said, watching as Amira turned over. He eyed the stack of sticky notes and grabbed it along with a pen. “Ready whenever you are.”

“Max. Dupont. My classmate who got upset because no one was available to test out his new game. Went by the name Gamer.” She said as she climbed down the ladder.

Now that she thought about it, wasn’t he the one who won a video game competition around a month ago? Or was it two?

“So what are you going to do with this?” Wally said, handing it to Amira.

She simply gave him a smirk, pulling down a hidden map, Wally taken back by the amount of information and theories on it. All of these tiny details were all connected to the center of the map, the photo of some old guy there.

“Data.”

“Wow. You know, you can give your father a run for his money.” Wally said, shouting a ‘hey’ when Amira elbowed him.

“I learned from the best, what can you expect?” Amira said, placing down the note on top of an already large pile of notes. “To think that even with all this evidence, it’s still not enough to go after my suspect.”

“What do you mean? Isn’t this enough? Judging from his schedule, he’s the perfect candidate to-“

“But he has alibis each time there’s an attack and even though it’s always the same alibi, it’s one nonetheless. Although it’s still not enough to convince me.”

“Elaborate.”

Wally was handed over a file, the title of it being the Bubbler. Reading through it, Wally noticed that he wasn’t affected by the akuma attack in the slightest while his bodyguard and assistant were.

“So you’ve noticed it.”

“How did he not get bubbled? He’s an adult!”

“The answer is simple. He avoids being harmed by being in cahoots with the Victim. You can even go as far as saying he’s an accomplice.”

“Or rather, Hawkmoth.”

“Bingo.” Amira scowled upon looking at Gabriel’s picture. “I just need one last thing to make sure I’m right. Otherwise, the evidence will go against me if I were to present it to him.”

Placing his elbow on her shoulder, Wally hummed.

“More evidence, huh? What do you think of breaking into-“

“Wally, no.”

“Wally, yes.” Wally responded before Amira smacked his shoulder, Wally simply laughing.

Amira soon joined in with a sputtering laugh, causing Wally to smile.

When was the last time the two of them laughed like this? To think moments like these could only happen like this…

Why did Jason have to leave them?

---

Despite having just arrived from the latest akuma attack, Adrien was buzzing with energy.

He didn’t know LB knew how to play video games! And he certainly didn’t think Queen Bee wouldn’t know. What teen didn’t know how to play video games?

They’re so much fun!

Actually...When was the last time he had this much fun?

Walking around his room, feeling the energy bouncing within him, Adrien let out a gasp and a grin as he made his way to his bedroom door.

“Adrien, what are you doing?” Plagg asked, floating next to Adrien.

“Well, seeing as Dad’s off doing whatever it is he does, I thought I should explore the house for once.” Adrien said, peeping into the hall to see Pierre dozing off. Adrien has noticed that his father had been overworking his bodyguard ever since he came back from Gotham.

“Wait, how have you never-” Plagg started, only to stop when Adrien gestured his head towards the sleeping bodyguard.

“Pierre never lets me leave my room whenever Dad leaves, which is why right now is a pretty good time to do so.” With that said, Adrien sneaked into his father’s office, never realizing how empty it felt despite the clutter of fabrics in the room.

Adrien made his way towards the portrait of his mother, sighing as she looked back at him.

God how he missed her.

“Wow. Despite your father being the only one in this room, there sure is a lot of things here.” Plagg said, phasing through the different materials and boxes. “Sadly, there’s nothing but designs here.”

“Yeah.” Adrien huffed, about to leave the place when he remembered the thing he saw back at Wayne Manor. Walking up to his mother’s portrait, he decided to pull it when the frame came forward, startling Adrien.

“Hey! Destroying things is my thing, kit!” Plagg complained, watching as the portrait swung open a bit. “Oooo! A secret stash?” Plagg asked with wonder, watching as Adrien pulled the portrait forward, exposing a safe.

“Of course it would need a code.”

“Code? Who needs a code when you got me?” Plagg said with a smug, phasing through the safe and opening it up. “See? Easy as cheese!”

“Don’t you mean ‘easy as pie?’” Adrien said, looking at the things inside the safe. An old receipt, hotel flyer, a picture of his mother, a peacock inspired brooch and-

“No cheese, but this certainly looks familiar.” Plagg said, hovering about the book he was talking about. “It’s the book Master Fu has been looking for!” Plagge exclaimed, picking it up. “Oh the look on Sugar Cube’s face when she finds out I found it before her!”

“Sugar cube?”

“Tikki, LB’s kwami.” Plagg shortly explained before going up to Adrien’s face. “But we can talk about that later! We need to bring this to Master Fu n-”

The sound of the front door made the two jump, causing Adrien to quickly close the safe and place back the portrait. Eyeing a fabric box, Adrien quickly stuffed the book into it and swung the bag over himself.

Luckily, just in time.

“Adrien, what are you doing in here?” Gabriel asked, his eyes narrowed.

“My bag has a hole in it so I thought of asking you if I could get a new one. I came here, but I forgot you were out, but then I saw this bag and kinda liked how it looked.” Adrien showed his father the black leather messenger bag. “So, can I keep it? If you’re not using it, that is.”

Adrien waited for his father’s response, watching as his father still held his stoic face.

‘Please say yes, please say yes!’

“You can keep it.” Gabriel said, Adrien letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “As for your old one, bring it here so that I can mend it. Then you’ll have to bags to alter between.”

“Thank you, Father.” Adrien said with a bow before rushing out of the room, glad that things worked out fine.

“Now I just hope he doesn’t notice it’s gone missing.”

---

Nightfall fell upon Paris, Ladybird sitting at the Eiffel Tower as she waited for a few people to meet up with her.

“-sure you don’t want me to-”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve been doing this for months.” Queen Bee heard Ladybird assure someone upon arriving at their usual rendezvous. She had never heard her call anyone before patrol. “If anyone should be worried, it should be me. I’ve been told you’re still recovering from a stabbing. When were you going to tell me that? And before you say anything, yes, it was Großvater.”

A stabbing? Just who was Ladybird talking to? “Oh, seems like someone is already here. I’ll talk to you later. Mach’s gut.” Ladybird put away her phone before turning to Bee. “You could’ve said something if you were here already.”

“Didn’t want to bother you. Plus, it seems like you were in the middle of catching up with whoever it was you were talking to.” Queen Bee approached Ladybird, looking out to see the same Parisian night she saw in the photo at Wayne Manor.

Pictures that showed a motherless little girl, raised by a billionaire father.

“I...I never met my mother...never go to know her either.”

A bit of her wished it was just a mere coincidence. A bit of her wished she was wrong.

“I was, but duty first.” Ladybird said with a smile, snapping Chloe from her thoughts. “Of course, we have to wait for Chat before we can go on patrol.”

Returning the smile, Queen Bee leaned against a beam. She had to get rid of this theory before it consumed her, before she found something she knew would get her in great trouble.

“Hope he isn’t stuck again playing video games, he had seemed to have enjoyed it when we were all stuck in Gamer’s video game.”

At that, the two girls laughed, the wind carrying their soft laughter until it merged with the city noise.

#maribat #amira wayne #b!dbwm2020

61 notes · View notes

seokiloquy · 4 years ago

Text

Stick Figures - Kozume Kenma

AU: Writing soulmate (kind of….) (it’s more like drawing….) Whatever is drawn or written on your body appears on your soulmate's

Word Count: 1.6K +

Kenma tended to wear long sleeves. Most people questioned him about it, why would he wear long sleeves when his soulmate wouldn’t be able to see the drawings or writings on his skin? Almost everyone around him, or people he saw walking on the street, wore short sleeves in hope to catch a glimpse of an arm or hand with ink that would match theirs.

At 16, the inked drawings would start appearing on your soulmate’s skin. If you had one, then the first thing that you drew would glow a light gold against the skin. If you didn’t have one, then it would turn red, but that was rare. It only happened if your soulmate had already died or if there were other individual circumstances.

He only answered when his mom asked.

“I only want them to see what I draw. I think that I will just know when I see them regardless of the drawings on their arms.”

He would meet them when the time was right. He didn’t need to rush things and he didn’t mind waiting.

Kenma was only nervous the first few weeks of his soulmate-ness. He would draw almost anything that he saw, books sitting on his desk, trees through the window of his classroom, everything and get nothing in return. That was the only time he really worried about it.

He kept drawing, until one day a small happy face appeared on the corner of his wrist. His soulmate was seeing his drawings and that was the only thing that mattered. However, they wouldn’t draw much or often. Sometimes broken words or sentences would stay on his skin, but he couldn’t make out the messages the person was trying to say.

The process was odd and convoluted. Most drawings appear on your soulmate's skin unless it was faces or something to give your location. Some words would go through, again nothing that could give yourself away. Sentences would get broken and mixed and only words of emotion would break through to the other side.

Kenma would get messages like: sun — blossom— every — sad— place.

He guessed the universe wanted everyone to struggle a bit before they found their soulmate.

He could tell that his soulmate was more of a writer than a drawer. However, that only made the times when his soulmate drew something more special. He would wake up to stick figures with empty speech bubbles and half drawn butterflies on his arm. Those were the days where he started the day off with a smile.

He took pictures of all of them, everything drawn onto his skin.

The biggest surprise was when he woke up with a beautiful drawing on his left arm. Fully bloomed cherry blossoms wrapped around his forearm, drawn with sketchy lines, almost covering it up entirely with it. It started small at the wrist with the first flower and then the blossoms progressive got bigger as it curved down to his elbow. A branch held them all together and spiralled up to his shoulder, fading out just past it.

He stared at it intently, it almost looked like a professional tattoo, but it couldn’t have been one. Drawings would only show up if they were hand drawn by someone.

His mom knocked on his door. “You’re going to be late for school.”

She looked down at his arm and walked closer towards him. “Yours?”

Kenma shook his head. “No.”

His mom took his arm carefully and turned it around. “It looks kind of familiar? Doesn’t it?”

He could see his mom’s permanent mark below her wrist. It was small and he could never make out what it was supposed to be. Another side effect to soulmates, when you finally meet them, whatever was drawn or written on your arm would stay there.

“Not really,” he said, looking at it more closely himself. “I see cherry blossoms every day when I walk to school. It could be those or they could have been copied from a picture.”

“You know people draw really amazing things like this so that it could stand out.” His mom said, dropping his arm. “Maybe you should wear short sleeves today.”

“I like wearing long sleeves.”

His mom sighed. “Kenma, have you ever thought that your soulmate might want to find out who you are?”

He shrugged and then heard the door close behind him.

It would be a waste to wear short sleeves. He was only going to school and no one at school was his soulmate. The first week that he discovered that he had one, he purposely drew big things on his arms and tried to see if anyone would notice and come up to him, but no one did. Since then, he stopped looking at school.

He ran his thumb over his forearm and smiled. Grabbing his phone, he took a quick photo of it before it washed off naturally.

Somewhere out there was his soulmate.

Sometimes Kenma despised Kuroo. In the middle of his video game, Kuroo barged into his room and dragged him outside. He was meeting his own soulmate at an art gallery that was showing work of local artists, including his soulmate and Kuroo wanted to go and support them.

“I’ll buy you lunch and pay for the ticket! Come on.” Kuroo said, pulling on Kenma’s shirt, tugging it where the drawing was. “I don’t wanna go alone!”

Kenma pulled away and glared. “Fine. Just don’t ditch me when we get there.”

Kuroo nodded and smirked. “Promise.”

Kuroo did not keep his promise. He left as soon as he spotted his soulmate. Kenma decided to not waste the ticket that Kuroo brought him, so he walked around the gallery. Not to mention that Kuroo offered him lunch and he wasn’t going to pass that up.

He enjoyed looking at art even if some of the pieces were questionable. He took his time looking around. Maybe he could take some inspiration from some of the pieces to hint that he was at an art gallery to his soulmate. Most of his attention was on the paintings that had more detail and definition until he moved to a more quiet section of the local artwork and stumbled upon drawings.

They weren’t the original drawings. They were photos of the artwork printed on large pieces of paper and put into frames to be hung on the wall. There were fewer people here and he could hear Kuroo a little bit away.

Some of the drawings were better than the art pieces outside in the main gallery. He could tell that the drawings had a lot of care and thought put into them with every line, stroke and shading meticulously chosen.

“They are really good right?”

Kenma turned around. A person was standing behind him, their hands behind their back and was looking at the drawings behind him.

“Yes. I’m surprised that they aren’t closer to the main gallery.”

They smiled. “I know! If I didn’t know where I was going I probably wouldn’t have seen anything else. They are really amazing.”

Kenma smiled. “I was trying to find my friend. I’m kind of glad I didn’t find him yet though.”

The person took a step closer. “I’m (Y/N). Is your friend a part of the galley?”

Kenma nodded. “I’m Kenma and no, he isn’t, but his soulmate is. Are you part of the gallery?”

(Y/N) laughed and shook their head. “God no. I can’t draw to save my life. My brother has his corner over there. I’m here as a supporter.”

They pointed behind them. Their left sleeve curled into their arm showing a small part of their wrist.

Kenma blinked. “What’s on your arm?”

(Y/N) raised their eyebrows, but rolled up their sleeve anyway. Inch by inch, the drawing that Kenma had stared at on his own arm relieved itself on (Y/N)’s. They smiled and started talking again even though Kenma could barely do anything but look at their arm. “My brother usually does more tattoos and he wanted to try something on a real person that wasn’t himself.”

After a moment of silence, (Y/N) chuckled nervously. “ Kenma? Are you okay?”

He looked up and rolled up his own sleeve. (Y/N)’s eyes widened as their arm dropped to the side, staring at Kenma’s arm that displayed their brother’s drawing. He held back a small laugh forming in his chest, did he look like this in those moments of silence?

“We didn’t know whether or not it would show up on my soul —on your arm,” (Y/N) whispered, still in awe. They threw up a hand to cover their eyes, a smile spreading across their lips. “Holy shit, you suffered through my stick fingers while you drew me amazing trees and flowers.”

Kenma smiled and walked up to (Y/N). He pulled their hand away and gently held the arm that canvased the drawing. He took out his own arm again and held them together, they glowed a faint gold, marking its permanence.

“I really liked your stick drawings,” Kenma said softly.

“Seriously?”

“Yes,” he said.

His hand slowly fell into (Y/N)’s hand and held it tightly. “I would love anything you drew.”

Hello!! This is the first time in a bit at I 1) finished the one shot on time and 2) wrote something fluffy. I feel like I lost my touch with fluffiness though...As you could see if you're an advised reader/follower of this one shot book that I usually write more seriously? Sad? Ansty? Stuff So it’s kind of weird to not write those things….

Hopefully it’s okay? Maybe I’ll try writing more fluffy stuff to keep the skill!

Also, this isn’t Ready. Aim. Fire? Part 3.. That’s going to be the week after next!!!

Thank you for reading! - Kiwi

Posted: 11/07/2020

#haikyuu x reader #Kozume Kenma #kenma x reader #Haikyuu #x reader #oneshot #oneshots #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu reader insert #reader insert #aus #haikyuu aus #fluff #haikyu #anime x reader #anime #manga x reader #manga

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birbhouse-doodles · 3 years ago

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Some post-project ~thots~ re: my first big dive into horror movies in general, some favorites and reviews, and what I learned in boating school from finishing an inktober-type art challenge is

So the ~stats~ of this thing were, I did 29 drawings covering 31 pieces of halloween-related / horror-ish media, 28 movies, 2 series’ and 1 podcast episode. Of the 31, this was the first time I’d seen/heard 25 of them.

On the art:

1. The big lesson that I got from this is exactly what this podcast episode has to say about how executing an idea is its own skill that you have to practice. Like separate from the skills of actually drawing a thing, the mental skill of following an idea through from start to finished product (and being able to call it done and pull the trigger on sharing it) is also a thing you have to learn. And boy howdy does finishing one post-able drawing a day give you plenty of practice at that, and boy howdy did I get pretty good at it this month. I’m kind of floored by how this Just Get It Done Bootcamp of making a shit ton of art in very little time got rid of so many of my hang ups related to like, getting stuck partway through a piece because I'm scared to ruin it, or not being able to get past a thumbnail sketch because I can’t find the ~perfect idea~, etc. Especially this last week I barely even recognized this confident ass person who was planning and banging out these cool little paintings with almost no hesitation. That’s very unusual for me and I really hope it sticks

2. I’m glad I did this but the debate on whether or not I’d ever do it again is ongoing. Like, I’m insanely proud of myself, (whatever)tober challenges were something I always thought were super cool and wanted to do as a little baby artist but was I never in the right place to be able to stick to a project like that, so I’m very impressed with myself. I am, also, however, so fuckin tired oh my god. I spent most of weeks 2 and 3 swearing up and down that I’m never doing anything like this again. But I also spent the last week really loving it and I already have a list of movies I didn’t get to that I could use if I did this again next year... we’ll see I guess. (Also I never would have had time for this if I wasn’t in an awkward limbo of post-graduation-pre-real job right now where I have literally no responsibilities, so I have a feeling that if I do this again it’ll be like. a movie every 3 days for 10 total, something more sane like that.)

3. Deciding I was ok with it when my motivation fluctuated and planning the day’s drawing accordingly was super powerful. Low standards got the job done y’all

4. Sorta related, but I noticed especially for movies I really liked/ rewatches of things that I already knew I loved I would get this weird mental block about wanting to Do Them Justice, and have this struggle of wanting to do whole ass super complicated big awesome tribute pieces instead of something I could actually finish in a day. Was tough to reign that in sometimes and remember that this had to be a quantity > quality type game.

5. I’m glad I started with the markers because they did force me to keep things simple at first and avoid that ^ problem, and it was neat to actually get sorta good at them and test exactly what I can get done with them. Less neat that a few markers that I was really relying on started dying around day 17 or so. Overall my review would be that they’re great for sketchy stuff, darkest gray and lightest gray are the best ones, love that they don’t warp or soak through the paper, but there are a few of the more complicated marker pieces (Alien, The Ring) that would have been way easier and probably turned out better in ink.

On the movies:

Man I hate that it took me so long to realize that I really love horror movies. I remember not enjoying them at all as a kid/tween, I think I just had to grow into it? I have a whole separate essay on why I think that is but we’ll save that one for later. The point is this was my first time seeing most of these and it was really awesome to dig into the, like, ~popular classic horror canon~ like this, 12/10 very fun. (Not that I covered all of it by any means, there’s already a big list of ones I didn’t get to that just keeps growing, and now that I have a better idea of what I like I can be smarter about picking them next time, and I didn’t even scratch the surface of some subcategories of horror that I’d be really interested to check out, especially international stuff/ not just american big screen stuff, and, and, )

I can’t just pick favorites like a normal person so here’s way too many words about some that stood out for me, I have many opinions and no one can stop me so buckle up

I’m having a really hard time picking a scariest movie, but I the things that I ended up finding scary sort of surprised me. Like the super heavy gore/violence stuff wasn’t so much scary as just gross. A few that did stand out as scary for me were Us (jesus christ Lupita please have mercy you’re too good at this) and It Follows (I was so on edge just Watching the background extras trying to guess where the monster was, I thought the amount of tension in that was really impressive). Actually, anything that leaned on crafting tension in a skillful way and letting the horror come from Wrongness and Anticipation instead of just straight violence was chefs kiss, lovely, totally my jam. If I could build a house and live in the 3 seconds between the moment you know a jumpscare is coming and the moment when it actually hits, I would.

Prettiest movie award goes to Suspiria (1977). I would print out almost any frame of this thing and hang it on my wall, I’m just head over heels for the whole ~look~ and the architecture and the sets and the cOLORS oh the colors I’m in love. I actually watched it really early in the month, it might have even been September? but I didn’t want to draw it yet because it would have been a crime to do anything related to that movie in black and white and I was kinda intimidated by including full color paintings for this project at the time. Runner ups for prettiest go to Caligari (which was like finding an old picture of a great-great-grant-relative and being like holy shit that looks exactly like my uncle I see where the rest of the family gets those looks, but in this case your uncle is like. Every Tim Burton/ Henry Sellick / whimsical-gothic aesthetic thing ever) and Coraline (Laika Studios owns my entire heart).

Best special effects is probably The Thing. GOD why did we as a society ever move away from super detailed hand crafted practical effects gore. You just know some assistant's whole job was to lovingly mist all the gooey bits down with a spray bottle to get it absolutely perfect. That shit is a work of art, I would want the two melted together faces as a sculpture to have in my house if the effects weren’t so good that I genuinely felt a little sick a few times watching this. Honorable mention to Alien for the same reasons.

Award for “didn’t scare me much but did make me deeply sad” goes to Carrie, with The Witch (VVitch?) as a runner up. Making me sad is also like, a valuable emotional response for a piece of art to cause and these were cathartic in their own way, but fuck man. A story that goes “young girl did not sign up for nor deserve any of this and does not catch a single break” are such downers for me. Something something I too was (am?) a weird little girl (tm) and these are My People, so I’m adopting them all as my baby sisters now and taking them out for ice cream and driving them to therapy

Best theme song/ soundtrack goes to Reanimator. This is a controversial choice by the judge (me) when the other nominees include Us, The Shining, and two entire John Carpenters, but I have not been able to get Reanimator’s funky little woodwind bop out of my head for days now. It has absolutely no right to fuck so hard. I rewatched the opening credits like 3 times just so I could hear it again, it ended up on my On Repeat playlist on spotify this week, girl help it’s literally still stuck in my head as we speak

Anyway the more I talk about this the more confident I feel in saying, see you next year for this again. But almost definitely on a smaller scale because jesus I am so tired

#I WILL write whole ass novels overanalyzing my thought processes regarding a casual hobby I have (art) and no one can stop me #also click for a novice to the genre holding a one-person oscar awards that no one asked for #because I can't pick favorites in a straightforward way and also just have a lot to say in general as a person #tober 21

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mybiasisexo · 4 years ago

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Ring the Alarm

Genre: Angst | Marriage!au

Pairing: Lay x Reader

Length: 4.4k

Warning: Language | Adult Themes | Infidelity

Summary: Nobody said marriage was easy--and your marriage with Zhang Yixing is proving that. When you find out about his indiscretions, you have two options--leaving him is easy, but can you leave the life you both made together? Based off the song Ring the Alarm by Beyoncé

Author’s Note: This one... This one is definitely a WIP. Something I’ve discarded but will be coming back to and finishing. I love this plot, but I know a lot of people aren’t going to agree the the ending I have in mind. Listen to the song, okay? That’s what I’m basing it off of *shrugs*. Also, I drew heavy inspiration from the movie Girl’s Trip,

MASTERLIST

credit

Marriage was never easy. It took commitment, honesty, trust, and a lot of sacrifice.

You were always aware of this.

Once you reached the age to truly understand, you watched the weight of marriage burden your mother and your mother’s mother. Understood that the title, Wife, was a job, an occupation that carried on all of your life.

Yet, that never stopped you from saying yes.

Never stopped you from allowing that magnificently shiny ring to slide upon the third finger on your left hand, shimmering with the promise of forever.

Maybe, you assumed it would be different—your marriage. Maybe you were too young and naïve, believing that your love was stronger than those before you. That your love was based on something so magical it could withstand all of life’s trails and tribulations.

You were wrong, of course. But at the time, it hadn’t seemed so bad; especially when it was Zhang Yixing you were promising to share your life with.

Zhang Yixing was a rising mogul. He had started his own music label and it had blown up, skyrocketing the pair of you into high-class fame.

Through out it all, you had been by his side. From the time he was making beats in his basement, to the moment he won his first award.

You were the one who provided a roof over his head when he was solely focused on the music. The one who supported him financially when he didn’t have a dime to his name. The one who provided words of strength and courage when he was losing faith in himself. It was you who singlehandedly carried him to the top, allowing him to wear the crown as long as you were able to be by his side.

Because that was what love was.

But love was quickly overshadowed by greed. You both became too preoccupied scrambling to the top of the totem pole to remember why you had began climbing in the first place. The contracts you both signed with love soon became a business contract, you two only partners professionally.

Money had a certain power that overtook everything, and money was something that Yixing had a lot of—that the both of you had a lot of.

That’s no excuse though. No valuable reason for your husband of nearly six years to be cheating on you.

~*~

Once a week, you meet you with your closest friends, Seulgi and Irene, for lunch. Today you decide to eat at an upscale restaurant in downtown. You have known the two since high school and they have been your biggest supporters in life.

“How have you been?” Seulgi asks after you all have ordered, stretching her hand across the table to place it over your own, giving it a comforting squeeze. You smile softly at her, knowing full and well that she has caught on to the fact you’ve been hiding something that’s troubling you. She has always been extremely sensitive to other’s emotions, allowing her to read anyone like a book. It is what makes her such an amazing psychologist.

She also knows not to pry. A major rule of yours is that your marriage—like all marriages should be—is between your husband and yourself. You refuse to share the nitty gritty details of your relationship, even to your best friends.

“Surviving,” you reply simply, taking a sip of your hot tea.

The answer is telling. Both women share a quick concerned glance. Before they can inquire further, the food arrives and conversation is shifted to lighter subjects: updates in your lives since the last get together.

About halfway into the meal, Irene receives a message on her phone. She glances down distractedly before doing a double take, her eyes widening from shock as she stares at her screen.

“What is it?” Seulgi asks curiously. You find yourself leaning forward in an attempt to catch a glimpse at what shook her, but she swiftly snatches the device so that only she can view the screen. Her eyes flicker over to you and an odd sense of foreboding dread causes your stomach to drop.

“I just got some pap pics….” She starts slowly, eyes drifting back to you warningly. “Brace yourself.”

“Why would I have to…?” She hands you the phone and you blink a few times, not fully comprehending what you’re being shown. Squinting, you enlarge the image, zooming in to clarify that the man in the picture is indeed your husband.

Making out with another woman.

There’s four pictures in total. The two are apparently at some club. The woman—who’s back is conveniently facing the camera—is sitting on Yixing’s lap. His hands get lower and lower with each picture until they land solidly on her ass.

You sit the phone down and close your eyes, breathing through your nose as you rub your temples in frustration.

Careless. Selfish.

“I…am so sorry,” Seulgi murmurs. Tears can be heard in her voice, your pain being felt by her.

Irene is a bit different though.

“So, what are you going to do?”

Irene is the hard ass. The realist. She doesn’t believe in playing games, always cutting through the bullshit to get right to the point.

She would have made an amazing lawyer.

But instead, she gave her talent to a gossip magazine. It pays just as well with less the paper work and she is brilliant at it. Irene is always on top of the newest celebrity drama. She has a wide variety of connections—yourself being one of them—and isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty to uncover the truth. She is so good at her job that sometimes celebrities willingly give her information, because having an article written about you from her is how you know you made it in this cutthroat industry.

That is how she got the pictures. She has personal paparazzi that do most of the digging for her. Yixing is one of the most famous Chinese men in South Korea, so it makes sense to you that if they had spotted him doing something sketchy—because the world is aware of your marriage—they would capture it and send the proof to their boss immediately.

Sighing, you lean back against your chair, staring out the window that reveals a beautiful sunny day, a day too lovely to have to deal with this bullshit.

“I can’t believe he would do this to you,” Irene rages on, fury spilling out of her. She has the most disdain for Yixing. Ever since you first met him, she was always telling you how he was bad news, a no good low life that would only bring you down with him.

At this moment, you wish you had listened to her.

“This is just horrible.” You play with your wedding ring as Seulgi continues. “After all you’ve done for him, he does this in return.”

“You’re going to leave him, right? I mean, the man is cheating on you—”

“I KNOW!” You finally snap loudly, instantly shutting your friends up. In a much quieter tone, to not draw attention, you add, “I’ve known for a while.”

“You… already knew?” Seulgi clarifies. Realization dawns on her and she shakes her head in disbelief. “You already knew.”

“For how long?” Irene presses, her anger tripling and you’re glad that, at this moment, she is your friend, and not a journalist. She has to have realized that she stumbled across gold with these pictures. She holds enough evidence to ruin your martial image and make herself richer beyond her dreams. “How long has he been hurting you like this while you just allowed it to continue?”

“It’s not that simple,” you defend yourself quickly. “You know our entire career is based on our marriage….”

“Do you at least know who she is?” Seulgi asks.

“His secretary.” You sneer. “The cliché bastard is fucking his secretary.” Your hands tremble as a wave of emotions hit you like a tsunami. They come so rapidly, you can barely register them all: hatred, disdain, anger, embarrassment, betrayal—you don’t think you’ve ever felt so much at once.

“These pictures were taken by my people,” Irene begins quietly. “I just asked and they are positive they were the only ones there, but if I don’t do anything with them, they’ll sell them to another source who will. You know this.”

The severity of her words hit you full force, knocking the breath out of you.

She leans over the table, making sure to look you dead in your eyes. “I need to know. Do you still love him?”

Her question throws you off. Do you love Yixing? You assume there was once a time when you truly did. You gave up everything to be with him. Gave up your dreams to help him reach his own. Took his last name as your own, giving your life to him. No one does any of that without love being involved, blinding them from making any rational decisions.

But that was a long time ago.

You are in love with a different Zhang Yixing. One who fought for what he cared about, and cared deeply about a lot of things. Loved deeply.

The man you are tied to now is nothing more than a mere shadow of the one you fell in love with.

Knowing this, your stare remains fixed, unwavering as you answer truthfully. “No.”

She takes a deep breath, nodding to herself as she leans back. “I can stall, but not for too long. If you really don’t want to leave him, and I understand why, you at least have to talk to him. Let him know what his actions are about to unleash, because once this hits the press, you will know no peace. It’s going to get a lot tougher for you. You’ll have to fight harder than you ever have.”

It isn’t until Seulgi slides into the seat right beside you and rubs your face do you realize you’ve been silently crying. Your breath shudders as you inhale and give into being weak for a moment, sliding your arms around Seulgi’s waist and leaning into her in a tight embrace.

“Can you send those to me?” You ask Irene, who nods before doing as you request.

“What will you do now?” She asks after your phone lights up with her notification.

“Confront him,” you say without hesitation. This conversation is long overdue. “Let him know how much of a bastard he is.”

“Then…?” She presses, an eyebrow raised.

“Then I guess we’ll see.”

~*~

The car rolls to a stop in front of Zhang Studios and you sigh as you gaze up at the building. It isn’t an over the top skyscraper, but it stands strong of wealth. The concrete building hovering over you fills you with nostalgia. You both worked so damned hard to get this place and now he’s using it against you.

His office is on the top floor. It is made for a boss, what with it’s icy glass doors and floor to ceiling windows that overlook downtown. On his desk, beside his nameplate, sits a picture of you both from your honeymoon, smiles huge and eyes locked, still utterly drunk in love.

The look in your eyes in that picture is the complete opposite of what is churning in them now. Ignoring his secretary’s protests, you swing the door open in time to catch Yixing bid farewell to the three other men in lavish suits that are also in the room. It appears you entered at the end of a meeting.

One of the men is a friend: Kim Jongin, and as they all turn around to see who entered, he smiles dazzling at you. He approaches you, taking your hand and kissing it.

“it’s so nice to see you.” He greets.

“You too, Jongin. It’s been a while.”

“That it has, but I’m looking forward to your anniversary dinner. I’m sure it’ll live up to the expectations”

You internally wince at the reminder. A date you should look forward to, only fills you with dread.

“Have the Zhang’s ever disappointed?” You ask with a wink.

The rest of the men bow in farewell before heading out after Jongin. You make sure to lock the door behind them so that Miss. Becky can’t attempt to interrupt.

Slowly, you approach Yixing as he unbuttons his jacket and takes a seat. Your heels clack loudly against the tile floor, empowering you with every step.

“My dear,” he begins quietly and you nearly sneer at the pet name. “What brings you here unannounced?”

Without saying a word, you plop the manila folder holding his incriminating pictures on his desk before him. He raises an eyebrow questioningly before humoring you and pulling them out. His jaw tightens as he scans the images and you catch it. It’s only a second, if you hadn’t been studying him so hard you would have missed the shock that pinched his face.

After a moment of silence, he sighs, tossing the folder back on his desk in defeat. His eyes scan his luxurious office before finally meeting yours.

“I guess apologies are in order.”

“Save it,” you spit. Your arms tremble with the anger flowing through your veins and it takes everything in you not to get physical. “You careless bastard.”

“I deserve that,” he says quietly. “Where did you get those?”

You scoff. “Does that really matter right now? That’s you, my husband, making out with someone who sure as hell isn’t me, just days before our anniversary. You selfish asshole!”

Your words are biting. He rests his elbows on his desk, his head on his balled up hands. “What can I do to fix this?”

You walk up opposite him, placing your palms solidly on the desk as you loom over him with narrow eyes. “Get rid of her. I don’t care how. I want her gone.”

He groans your name in protest, sinking back into his chair.

Left flabbergasted by his response to your request, you straighten up. He takes you in with slightly wide eyes as you laugh bitterly. “You know what? Never mind.”

Turning on your heels, you make your way to the door before spinning around to face him again. “What are we doing, Yixing? Huh? We both know this sure as hell isn’t a marriage, but we agreed to at least be a partnership! Yet you can’t hold up your end of the bargain, let alone your pants! All you ever care about nowadays is your company and yourself!”

“Come on now, you know that’s not true.” Yixing rises from his chair and walks over to you, but each step he takes forward, you take one back until your back collides with the door. Cornered, Yixing reaches up to cup your shoulders, rubbing them soothingly. “Hey, look at me. I’m sorry, okay? You’re right. We agreed to at least be partners and I’ve failed you. I’ll get rid of Seungwan, all right?”

Hearing her name makes your heart pang. You glare at him. “You promise?”

“Consider it done.”

“There’s also the pictures….”

“We’ll discuss that later. But we have to be stronger than ever at the dinner. Be more of a team.”

“I’ve always been a team player, Yixing, you know that.”

His smile is sad. “All the same.”

Tired of arguing, you merely sigh, resting your head against the cold door while closing your eyes. “Thank you.”

Suddenly, Yixing’s warm breath can be felt against your neck. Eyes springing open to see him leaning closer to kiss you, whether it is your cheek or lips, you aren’t sure, blocking your vision. The thought of him touching you in any way makes bile crawl up your throat, so before he makes contact, you unlock and open the door in one swift motion, sliding out before he can touch you.

~*~

The anniversary dinner is four days later.

The last couple days are nerve racking. Having to make the final details to the party with those haunting pictures hanging over your head has you stressed to the point where you can’t eat. The leading cause of your stress—your husband—has been the polar opposite of you. His nonchalant behavior isn’t reassuring in the slightest, although he promised repeatedly that his mistress, Son Seungwan, had been let go and he had zero contact with her since. You want to believe him, at least the last part, but your trust is completely gone.

Unfortunately, you will have to put a little faith in him tonight. The party will be held at your shared mansion to show your solidarity. You are not just celebrating six years of marriage, but also the birth of your baby—Zhang Studios. Your home will be filled with important people, and their testimonies from tonight will help you once your story breaks out, which will be in a matter of time.

The day of is spent making sure everything is perfect, not a speck of dust is lingering in the air. Yixing is gone most of the day, taking care of some things at work. He trudges in around six, much to your dismay.

Guests start filing in around seven, greeted by the happy couple.

Irene and Seulgi arrive together and rip you away from your husband. You catch him frown as he watches you rush down the hall, he is just as much not a fan of the duo as they are of him.

You pull them into a deserted hallway for some privacy, hugging them briefly in greeting before getting to the point.

“Any updates?” You ask Irene.

“The pictures have been bought and will be released in the next couple days. The article, from what I’ve heard, will make Lay out to be a money hungry sex-crazed monster, painting you as a helpless victim. It’ll be perfect for whatever you decide. You leave him; you’re freeing yourself from a wicked man. Forgive him and you’re a saint.”

You’re pleased with either outcome of the situation, although it means you have only a couple days to decide what you want to do. Lay is Yixing’s celebrity name, the name the world knows him as. It is unlucky Lay is going to be ruined by Yixing’s careless actions.

“Alright. Thank you girls for coming. I need all the support I can get tonight.”

“I would say ‘happy anniversary’,” Seulgi begins. “But I don’t think you’re too happy right now.”

Her comment brings out a smile, albeit small, and she pulls you into a side hug, rubbing your arm comfortingly. “You look sexy as hell though.”

That draws out a genuine laugh.

You soon reunite with Yixing in time to welcome more people.

Once everyone has arrived, you all settle around the dining room table that is big enough to sit all of your close family, employers, and celebrity friends. Yixing and yourself placed at the center of one of the long sides, agreeing that the closer you are the more in love you’d appear. You try to maintain your warm façade, but you can feel it slipping with every conversation you find yourself getting dragged into. You consider yourself quite the actress, you’ve been pretending to be happy in a marriage for years now, yet you don’t know how long you can keep this up, what with Yixing’s hand practically glued to your knee, a hand that has been tainted by the other women he touched—who knows how many he has been with, though you have a feeling Seungwan wasn’t the only one.

You push the thought out of your mind, instead focusing on the food that starts to be brought out from the kitchen. The smell draws out noises of delight from the guests and you’re relieved and proud of the response.

The atmosphere is pleasant as everyone dives in but it only takes a few minutes for everything to crash. Yixing suddenly begins coughing on his wine, startling everyone and gaining their attention. You pat his back in concern as he attempts to clear his throat, teary eyes narrowing on something ahead of himself.

Trepidation drips down the back of your neck as you follow his line of sight, zoning in on a beautiful girl in a soft red gown that hugs her comfortably. Her long wavy ashy brown hair cascades down her back from a low ponytail and her thin burgundy red lips lift smugly as she watches the way Yixing reacts to her presence.

Slowly, you drop your hand from the man beside you, letting it fall limply to your side as you glare at the woman who should not be here.

The nerve.

Yixing catches his bearings, but he can honestly choke for all you care. His shock at seeing his mistress consumes him to the point he doesn’t even register the attention he has garnered to the situation. The silence causes your ears to ring as Son Seungwan struts to the best of her abilities to one of the last empty chairs.

“Sorry I’m late,” she apologizes, not sounding sorry in the slightest.

Trying your hardest to seem unaffected, you toss your napkin on the plate in front of you and lean over to your husband as you rise off your seat to stand. “Lay, a word.”

He follows silently, bowing towards your guests apologetically as he follows you to the closest room to get some privacy. Once inside, you scan it to realize you chose his home office, which is fitting, because you have business to handle.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” You ask as soon as the door shuts, spinning on him.

He sighs, running his fingers roughly through his hair. “I don’t know—”

“I told you to handle this!”

“I did—”

“Does her waltzing in here like she picked out the wallpaper in the dining room look handled, Yixing? Huh?”

“I don’t know why she is here! I didn’t invite her!” Yixing counters, voice rising to match your own.

“Well I sure as shit didn’t invite her!” You run up to him and lower your voice. “I want her out of my house. Now!”

He sighs again. “We can’t do that. Not without causing a scene. She’s obviously bitter about how things ended between us. This is probably payback.”

There’s a brief silence as you put together his words. Finally, you think of something. “If she’s not leaving now, we’ll just have to speed things along.”

His face pinches in confusion. “How?”

“By doing our speech! The one we need once we’re asked for statements. God, must I do all the thinking around here?”

With that, you shove him aside to get to the door, but he quickly blocks it with his body, causing you to nearly collide. His chest heaves as he spreads his arms out, leaving you with no exit.

Cornering you, he uses it to his advantage and in a small voice says, “you have every right to be angry at me. I’m sor—”

“Move,” you order through gritted teeth. A staring battle soon commences, him going all out, giving you those wounded puppy eyes that you’ve always fallen for time and time again. the longer he gazes at you the harder you begin to tremble from emotion. You are so close to breaking, so close to losing your sanity. Not being able to handle it for much longer, you whisper, “please.”

It’s not the response he’s hoping to receive, but he knows that’s all he’s going to get. So, he throws you a small smile before opening the door for you.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” you inform, hoping he can’t hear the tears in your voice. “I’ll meet you back there.”

You check him long enough to see him nod and turn down the opposite end of the hall, towards the bathroom. As you reach for the knob, it twists and the door opens on it’s own, revealing the one person you have no intention of interacting with.

Son Seungwan.

She appears just as taken aback as you, but catches herself quickly, throwing you a mocking smile.

“Quite the party you have here.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” you say politely.

“I never said that,” Seungwan clarifies, eyes wandering over the hall. Irritation pricks at you, but you restrain it as best as you can, all things considered. “What I am enjoying though is this home. It is so beautiful. I bet you spent millions on it.”

“Something like that,” you reply.

“Well, I’ll tell you, it’ll look even grander once I start my home renovating.”

“I beg your pardon?” Is this girl crazy?

She finally meets your gaze. “Oh, Lay didn’t tell you?”

“Just get to the point,” you sigh, truly exhausted by everything that’s happened in the past twenty minutes. Crossing your arms over your chest, you wait for her response.

“He promised me a lot of things, you know? Promised to whisk me away, promised that I was the only one in his heart, that he didn’t feel anything towards you anymore and that he was going to divorce you so that he could be with me.”

You raise an eyebrow at her statement. So maybe he liked this one a little more than you were giving him credit for. Unfortunately for her, you know your husband too well.

Leaning in a bit more you look her dead in her eyes. “Take this from somebody who has been with Lay a bit longer. He loves to make promises just so he can break them. That’s how he operates, Dear. He whispered all those sweet nothings in the midst of ecstasy because he had something to gain from it, but all those words were just that—nothing. And, ironically, so are you. But, by all means, keep telling yourself that Lay is in love with you, because if he truly were, he’d be with you now, instead of celebrating his marriage to another woman.”

You can see her eyes gloss over with tears. Your words sting, but she has to know. A feeling of pity hits you as she sniffs and quickly brushs a tear that slipped away. For a brief moment, you see yourself in her, understand exactly what she’s going through.

It vanishes when she snarls. “You’re wrong.”

“And you’re delusional.” You’re quick to snap back, patience gone entirely.

“At least I’m not the only one.”

You crack a smile at that. “Oh, Honey. I am fully aware of the predicament I’m in. I know who Yixing is, and where we stand. But I’ll humor you, say he really did mean all those things.”

You lean in until your noses touch and whisper, “you’ll have to pry all of those things from my cold dead hands.”

You storm off, back to the dining room, joining a visibly uncomfortable Yixing. The relief is evident as you sit beside him

#lay scenarios #lay scenario #lay #exo #exo scenarios #exo scenario #lay oneshots #lay oneshot #exo oneshots #exo oneshot #lay fanfic #lay fanfics #exo fanfic #exo fanfics #lay drabbles #lay drabble #exo drabbles #exo drabble

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authenticcadence18 · 4 years ago

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30 Questions About Me

THANKS FOR THE TAG @bugaboo-n-bananoir ILY!!!!

(Nick)name: Cadence

gender: cis female

Star sign: Pisces

Height: uhhhhh I am not sure, it’s taller than 5ft at least

Time: night! (Well I wrote most of this last night, but now it’s the evening of the next day!)

Birthday: well I’m a Pisces, so my birthday is between Feb 19th and march 20th!

Fave band/group: Pentatonix! Or For King and Country. Or the piano guys, the vitamin string quartet, Voctave.....also Phineas and the Ferbtones👌

Fave solo artists: I really like Lauren Daigle, and Jackie Evancho used to be my FAVE. Aaand idk if this counts but Michael Giacchino! love his scores, especially the score for Inside Out. There’s also this guy called Clay Kramer on YouTube who makes KK Slider covers of popular music, his stuff gives me so much seratonin😅

Song Stuck in my Head: Well I’m listening to music rn and “I’m Me” from Phineas and Ferb is on so I’ll say that! (I’ll revisit this one when I finish the list and update it with whatever song i’m listening to/is stuck in my head then) (ok the music has since been turned off and now I have “Status Quo” from High School Musical stuck in my head so! There ya go!) (now it is the next day, and I’ve got “when the party’s over” stuck in my head...i think these three songs are an accurate reflection of my taste in music🤣)

Last Movie: uhhhhh oh yeah, The Sorcerer’s Apprentice! It was SO GREAT because Jay Baruchel plays the main character (and the main character is super awkward), so I felt like I was watching Hiccup from the How To Train Your Dragon franchise learn magic and it was GLORIOUS. And also Nicholas Cage is great. And I liked the love interest in the movie as well!! She had a role to play in the story and felt authentic and genuine, which I appreciated!

Last Show: ok well the last show I watched by myself was Phineas and Ferb! Specifically, the episode with the Mardi Gras block party and then the one where Candace and Stacy compete in an obstacle course against Isabella and Ginger (omg wAIT ginger and Stacy are sisters and Isabella and Candace are GOING to be sisters mY HEART I—AH🥺). I hadn’t watched those episodes in forever, so they were really fun to revisit! I think the last actual show I watched was Kids Baking Championship or something, lol. (Those kids are AMAZING. So skilled!)

When i created this blog: November 2019! It was riiiight after the season 3 finale of miraculous aired and absolutely wrecked my emotions. I had some fanfic written that I’d never posted and had been thinking about making a tumblr/ao3 for awhile, and seeing the finale made me finally go, “.....you know what, yeah. The finale is aired, no more spoilers.....it’s time to make a blog.” So I did! And I posted my first fic! And I’m so happy i did :)

What Do I Post: a bunch of multi fandom stuff XD. This blog started off as 90% Miraculous, 10% other fandoms I like...but now it’s just kind of a hodgepoge of my favorite fandoms (with a focus on Phineas and Ferb, lol). I reblog a lot of posts, and then I post original stuff too! I write fanfic, nowadays for Phineas and Ferb but for Miraculous in the past (and probably in the future!), I draw art (mostly Phinabella art because I’ve been drawing them since i was 11 and it feels good to return to my roots), and OCCASIONALLY I will write an analysis post (I’ve got one in the works rn actually 👀), attempt to make a meme, or dip my toe into salt just SLIGHTLY before quickly backing away, lol. If I were to list the fandoms I post about in the order of how frequently I post about them, I’d probably say: Phineas and Ferb, Miraculous....and thennnnn everything else is pretty random and depends on the day, lol.

Last thing i googled: Jay Baruchel 😂. Couldn’t remember how to spell his last name!

Other blogs: this is my only blog! Sometimes I think about making a separate blog for my art and writing, but I am not sure if I should or not....maybe I will someday, but idk. I also have an AO3 for fanfic and an Instagram for art! All are under the name “authenticcadence18.”

Do I get asks: sometimes, yeah!! Sometimes I reblog ask games/prompts and get some asks for those (I’ve got so many prompts in my inbox I want to write/draw things for...ah it’s fine, I’ll get to it eventually😅), and sometimes lovely people will leave thoughts or nice messages in my inbox🥺💕. I’ve got a specific tag for all those nice messages so I can read back over them whenever I need a boost!

Why this url: it’s a music pun! When a song/section of a piece of music ends with a dominant chord resolving to a tonic chord (if you’ve read a certain fic of mine you should know allll about dominant and tonic chords👀🤣), it’s called an authentic cadence! There are different kinds of cadences, and authentic ones are my favorite. One example of this is “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.” I also use this blog to be my authentic, fandom-loving self! So I like authentic cadences, and also, I’m Cadence and using this blog to be authentic! Woo! (And 18 is just my favorite number, lol) I’m glad I ended up choosing a name that doesn’t tie to a specific fandom becaaaaaause this ended up being a multi fandom blog!

Following: 232!!

Followers: 292!!! (THANKS SO MUCH Y’ALL ILY 💕)

Average amount of sleep: wellllll for the past week and a half I was sick so I was probably getting 9ish hours a night (because I would sleep in really late, lol). but NOW? In my immediate future? I suspect my average amount of sleep is going to go down because I’m really bad about staying up late even when I have to get up early😅. Hoping to be good about getting at least 7ish hours a night!

Lucky number: 18! But y’all probably already guessed that, lol.

Instruments: my voice, piano, ukulele, viola (but it’s been a HOT minute), aaaand i used to be able to play guitar but then I got a ukulele and forgot all the guitar chords. (I also dabble in songwriting! I primarily use voice and piano when writing music.)

What I’m wearing: my favorite sweatshirt (that was last night, rn I have on a tanktop), some leggings, and socks!

Dream job: I’m currently learning to be a teacher, and I LOVE teaching and working with kids so that is definitely a job I’m really excited about!!! I would also love to portray characters at Disney or something (well, maybe not at Disney because I hear they’re strict, but like....I want to be Rapunzel or Anna or something, that would be so fun). OR, I would LOVE to work in tv animation somehow, be it voice acting, writing scripts/music, and/or story boarding. basically if I could do what Dan and Swampy did for Phineas and Ferb/Milo Murphy’s Law, I would LOVE THAT. (Especially the writing music part. Getting to write music for established characters and get PAID for it would be SO COOL.!.!.!) Also I think it would be so fun to write Disney storybooks! Like, those books that are about Cinderella baking a cake or Ariel befriending a seahorse, stuff like that. Those brought me a ton of joy as a child!

Dream trip: I want to visit alllll the Disney parks someday😅. (Not right now because, ya know, Covid...but someday!)

Fave food: uhhh i really like pizza. And popcorn. Also hummus and guacamole!

nationality: American

Fave songs: “Times” by Tenth Avenue North; “Can’t Help Falling in Love” (I made an entire playlist of just this song when I first started writing my fic of the same name, so I like the original and a ton of covers of it!), “Show Yourself” from Frozen II, “What Might Have Been” from Phineas and Ferb (and lots of other songs from that show, i made a whole post about that once but I can’t find it, oof); “Rescue” by Lauren Daigle; “Thank You” by Pentatonix; “I See the Light” from Tangled; “Your Hands” by JJ Heller; “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran.....i like a loooot of songs so this is just the tip of the iceberg, but I think that’s good for now, LOL! (As soon as I post this I’m going to remember another song I love, lol)

last book: I got the book Unbirthday for Christmas! It’s basically Disney’s Alice in Wonderland, but if she’d never gone to wonderland and things went horribly wrong there. (I think, I’m not that far into it yet, lol)

Top 3 fictional universes I’d love to live in: 1. DANVILLE, PLS. Especially as a kid, I SO would’ve loved to hang out with Isabella and Phineas and the rest of the gang! Danville is so vibrant and unique and people are always randomly breaking into song there, that’s my kind of place! 2. Fairytopia (from the Barbie movies!) because I could be a fairy OR a mermaid OR BOTH and eat seeweed to breathe underwater even if I wasn’t a mermaid. Like, that’s the dream right there. (I’ve always loved mermaids and fairies, lol!) 3. Maybe San Fransokyo from Big Hero 6? All of the technology in that universe is really cool! And I would love to eat a noodle burger, lol .

Oh! That’s the last one! Wow! This was so FUN!!!!!!! Thanks again for the tag, Maddy!!!! :)

I’ll taaaag @sketchy-panda @macaronsforchat @simplynewyorkbound @inkjackets and anyone else who’d like to do this! (And pls don’t feel pressured to play at all, or answer all of the questions! I was definitely vague with a few of my answers, lol)

#long post #cadence rambles #tag game #this was so funnnnn!#i also got your other tag maddy🥺#going to get to that post soon!

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marvelsdc22 · 5 years ago

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The Professor And I Season 2 (pt. 7)

Intro: Hello, lovelies!! I hope you guys are having a good day/night!! Here’s the next part and I hope you guys enjoy!! :)

Note: Y/N is a student. Lena is a professor. Y/N questions Lara, Brainy can’t find an answer, Dominguez is suspicious, things get sketchy.

Word Count: 1449

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6

When you woke up the next morning, you quickly looked at your hand and saw that it still looked fine, the small red dot on your hand being the only indication that anything had happened yesterday, but you could easily hide it if you needed to, looking over when you heard Kara shift in her bed, worried she might’ve woken up but thankfully she hadn’t, looking at your phone and thinking maybe Lena messaged you, only for you to remember what had happened… You guys were done for and for the time being, you knew there was no way that was going to change, though you did see a message from Brainy and one from Lara.

So, the sample isn’t all that clear… I’m going to see what I can get from it and update you later – Brainy

Cool, if you need anything else, just let me know – You

Heading into the bathroom, you set your phone on the sink before taking a quick shower before getting ready, grabbing your phone once more

You up for studying together tonight? – Lara

Sure, I need to take my mind off of things – You

Wanna talk about it? – Lara

Maybe later tonight… Want to get breakfast? – You

Yeah! I’ll meet you in the lobby – Lara

You smiled a bit before pocketing your phone, going and pulling your shoes on and glancing at Kara who was fast asleep still and drooling, causing you to chuckle before you grabbed your bag and hoodie before heading out, deciding to bring Kara some breakfast back so that she’d have something to eat before she left for class.

Going into the lobby, you raised an eyebrow when you saw Lara talking to someone that looked oddly familiar, but you couldn’t put a name to the face, waiting until he walked away before walking over to Lara “Hey, who was that?” You asked, watching as she turned and smiled at you before waving off your question “My archaeology professor, Mr. Simon” she explained, that ringing a bell in your head, it was the archaeology professor that Vikander had helping with the thing in the lab, but you didn’t dig much deeper, but you couldn’t help but wonder… Why did he come to the dormitory?

At the dining hall, you got your food and found an open spot, smiling when Lara sat down across from you “So… What was Mr. Simon doing at the dorm?” You asked, still hooked on that and catching a glimpse of panic in Lara’s eyes before it vanished “Oh, I just left something in his office when I went to his office hours, he was returning it to me” Lara said, taking a bite of her breakfast while you stared at her curiously, not buying it but you weren’t going to push any further with it, so you opted to eat instead.

Getting back to your dorm with a container full of food for Kara, rolling your eyes when you saw she was still asleep “Hey, get up, you’re going to be late” you said, shaking her lightly and hearing her grumble before you held the container in front of her nose which instantly made her shoot up “Food” Kara said, taking the container from you “I knew that’d get you up” you chuckled, going and sitting on your bed, closing your eyes for a moment when you were hit with a dizzy spell “Thank you, you’re a life saver” Kara said, her mouth full of food “Yeah yeah, I know” you chuckled, looking at her and glancing at your phone when it vibrated.

So uh, that sample you got for me is inconclusive… I don’t know what’s in there, it’s like it’s not even real, there’s chemicals and stuff in it that I don’t even think exist… What did you even get this from? – Brainy

I don’t know what it is, they won’t tell me anything…. I’ll try to get a picture of it tomorrow when I’m in the lab – You

You stared at your phone with your brows furrowed, now wondering even more what was happening if the smartest guy you knew didn’t even know what it was “Everything okay?” Kara asked, pulling you out of your thoughts and making you jump “What? Yeah, just talking to Brainy about some homework and got confused” you lied, looking at her and able to tell she didn’t buy it, breathing a sigh of relief when she didn’t say anything else and went back to eating “So… How’s Sasika/Krypto?” You asked, knowing that she had left the pup at a family friends “Good! They’re settling in well” Kara said, you happy that seemed to drop the previous conversation entirely.

Later after classes, you were at the gym since you needed to stay fit for the soccer season when it returned, your music turned up and you running on the treadmill when your phone vibrated on the treadmill, your eyebrow raising when you saw it was a number not saved in your phone, stopping the treadmill and escaping to the bathroom “Hello?” You answered, pacing in the empty bathroom “Mr./Miss Y/L/N?” A familiar sounding voice asked “Yeah… Who’s asking?” You asked, your brows furrowing “It’s Dominguez, Alicia gave me your number” he said, not really helping you relax since why would she give him your number “I need you to meet me in the lab in twenty minutes, don’t be late” he said before hanging up, not even allowing you to reply as you huffed in frustration, knowing you didn’t have much of a choice, so you went to go change.

At the lab, you set your bag down and saw Dominguez leaned over one of the desks, looking over some paperwork that was spread out along the desk “You needed me?” You asked, watching as he glanced at you before gesturing for you to join him, when you got close enough, you saw what looked like drawings of old tombs “What’s with all the tombs?” You asked curiously, raising an eyebrow “It coincides with what we’re researching” he said simply, you knowing that was all you were going to get with him… Still not trusted enough “What did you need me for?” You asked, looking around and seeing a few new machines having been added to the lab “You’re studying neuroscience, correct?” He asked, causing you to raise an eyebrow but nod “I need you to look over these, I don’t have enough experience for it and we couldn’t get Luthor to help us” he said, handing you some samples in some vials and you freezing when he mentioned Lena “Of course” you said, going over to some lab equipment and setting the samples on the counter… Why did they need Lena and why did she say no?

After a few hours, you sighed and rubbed your eyes, looking over at Dominguez who was now once again messing with the thing in the cage “I have to do something, I’ll be right back” he said, looking at you before he went out, you waiting until you couldn’t hear his footsteps before you rushed over to the cage and pulled your phone out, taking as many photos as you could before shoving your phone back into your pocket and returning to your station just as the door opened “I’m not finding much with these” you said, trying to act normal and hearing him sigh “Thank you for trying… We’ll have more for you tomorrow” he said, waving his hand and that being your queue to leave, grabbing your things and heading towards the door “Oh and, Y/N?” Dominguez asked, causing you to stop and look over your shoulder at him “Be careful with those samples” he said, glancing at your hand which you quickly hid in your pocket “Right” you said before quickly escaping.

Once you were free of the lab, you pulled your phone out and examined the photos you had taken, gasping and dropping your phone when one in particular got you, glancing around before picking your phone back up and examining the picture, the thing in the cage had seemed to turned and looked straight at the camera, the red eyes and sharp teeth being an indicator that this thing was real, and very much alive, you sending it to Brainy along with a few other images so he could look them over, pocketing your phone before starting to walk back towards your dorm when another dizzy spell hit you, you stopping and closing your eyes to try to get it to go away, it not working this time and you hearing fast footsteps approaching you before you collapsed and everything went dark.

Permanent Taglist: @rianncreates / @5aftermidnight / @youngandwildx7 / @stewie-castle / @hopingforbarnes

Supergirl Taglist: @x-danvers-x / @aznblossom / @stop-drop-and-drumroll / @worlds-in-words

Lena Taglist: @life2-live / @supergirl-imaginess / @ianarec / @thelonewriter247 / @kalistory-blog / @ess0h

The Professor And I Taglist: @youlookterribleilookawesome / @ironsnowstorm / @rebornpoet / @scottishgirl1998 / @lezzzbehonesthere

End Note: I hope you guys enjoyed it!! I’m so glad that it’s back!! If you would like to be added to a Taglist, shoot me a DM or an Ask!! Have a good day/night!!

Requests Open

#lena luthor x reader #professor!lena x student!reader #lena luthor x gn!reader #lena x reader #lena luthor imagine #dc x reader #dc #The Professor And I

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ericsonclan · 4 years ago

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Remembering Faces

Summary: Clementine sees Louis drawing something at the picnic tables and walks over to find the reason behind his actions is a somber one.

Read on A03:

Clementine made her way out to the front yard on her crutches. Willy was in the midst of reworking her prosthetic, so it was back to crutches for the next few days. It was pretty quiet out front. Aasim was on watch. Violet pushed AJ in the tire swing. Omar and Ruby must be working in the greenhouse. And Louis sat at one of the picnic tables, a look of concentration on his face as he sketched on a plain piece of paper. Curious to see what he was up to, Clementine made her way over to him, her crutches swinging lightly as she moved quickly across the lawn. “Looks like your artistic talents go beyond music,”

Louis looked up at the compliment, giving his girlfriend a small smile. “Hey, Clem. Crutches treating you alright?”

“Well enough,” Clementine leaned them against the table before plopping down next to him. “What are you drawing?”

Louis’ arm was covering his work. Reluctantly, he pulled the paper back to reveal a picture of a tall, chestnut-haired boy.

Clementine squinted at it a second before her eyes widened in recognition. “Is that Mitch?”

“Yeah. The best likeness I can get of him anyway,” Louis looked down at the paper in disappointment. “I wanted to capture something on paper, you know, before the memories fade. But I can’t draw him right,”

“I could tell it was him,”

Louis’ shook his head. “That’s not enough. I want to be able to take out this drawing to show someone someday and say, ‘That’s Mitch’. Have all the little details right, like the way he used to smile every time Willy said something stupid or how his hair always used to get into his eyes when he was busy concentrating on something. Stuff like that,” Louis shifted the piece of paper to the side and Clementine saw that there were several underneath it. Those pages held portraits of Brody, Tenn, Marlon and the twins.

Clementine looked over at Louis with concern. She could tell that this was bothering him in a deeper sense than artistic inability. This was his only shot at remembering what his friends looked like. Remembering his family. She laid a hand on top of Louis’, causing him to look over at her. “Would you like me to try too? I’m sure it wouldn’t be perfect, but maybe I can help get some other details right. With practice I’m sure we’ll both get better,”

Louis’ expression softened at her offer. “Thanks. I appreciate it,” He handed her a fresh sheet of paper and the two of them got to work.

After a while, A.J. came over to check on what they were doing. He wanted to join in, so Louis handed him a piece of paper and a box of crayons since he and Clem were using all the pencils. Violet sat next to A.J. and across from Louis, commenting that for all she knew their drawings were perfect, but she couldn’t see shit so she’d never know. She and Louis soon fell into conversation, reminiscing about their fallen friends. Brody, Mitch and Tenn were all spoken of fondly. Marlon and the twins were skirted over, though kind, soft-spoken words were offered toward each of them. Clementine listened in, enjoying seeing their faces light up at the memories and wishing she’d had longer with those they’d lost.

Violet, despite protests on her part, eventually was convinced by Louis to give drawing a try. She hunched over her paper, eyes narrowed in concentration as she tried her best to draw both Minnie and Sophie. A.J. had drawn Tenn and proudly showed the picture to Clem and Louis before a thoughtful expression came across his face and he declared he was going to check on Willy, running off without another word. Clementine considered pursuing him but decided against it. A.J. deserved some space to think. She would bring it up later though, at a time where they could talk alone for as long as needed.

She turned back to Louis who was up to his third sketch of Marlon. His tongue stuck slightly out of his mouth as he was fully engrossed in getting the color right on Marlon’s eyes. Clementine glanced at her own drawings. They were sketchy and ephemeral at best. Her relationships with Marlon and Brody had been so short, barely two days. The memories of them were complex and deep-seated. She’d tried to capture Brody’s kindness and the hope in her eyes when she’d talked about travelling. For Marlon she’d focused on her earlier memories of him, as the open-handed, giving leader of this group of kids. She wanted to draw him as Louis’ best friend, not what he’d become at the very end.

Her relationships with Mitch and Tenn had lasted longer. Both of their deaths still stung despite the myriad of losses she’d experienced. She’d done her best to replicate the bomb Mitch had worked on and how his brows had furrowed in annoyance as he worked so desperately to get it working so he could protect the school. They’d barely just warmed up to each other by the time he was gone. Clementine wished they’d had longer together. And Tenn… his expression still haunted her, the look of shock as he turned back to see A.J. and realized what he’d done before the life drained from his eyes. Had there been another way to save him and Louis, one she simply couldn’t see? Clementine would never know.

Eventually Ruby and Omar finished with dinner prep and everyone was called to eat. The papers and art supplies were tucked away as they ate their nightly stew and continued to reminisce of days gone by. Everyone laughed at stories of Louis’ and Marlon’s escapades and delighted in recalling all the dumbass stunts Mitch had pulled with knives and other makeshift weapons over the years. Ruby got a little teary-eyed remembering some of her favorite times with Brody and Violet spoke softly and fondly of Tenn, Sophie, and occasionally Minnie. The truths of their friends’ final moments and deaths felt so divorced from who they’d been in life. It was good to talk of happier times even though the memories refreshed dulled aches within their hearts.

After dinner Louis tenderly took Clementine’s hand in his own. Leaning forward, he placed a kiss on her cheek before whispering in her ear. “Do you have time to stop by the music room? There’s something I want to share with you,”

Clementine nodded. Gathering her crutches, she followed Louis whose arms were full of art supplies. They made their way into the admin building, the soft rustle of dead leaves the only sound besides their footsteps in the empty rooms. Louis held the door open for Clementine before moving to put the art supplies away and grab something from one of the shelves. Clementine headed straight for the couch. Sitting down, she watched Louis as he used a chair to reach one of the highest shelves, pulling a small box down then walking over to join her on the couch. Prying off the lid, Louis revealed a series of drawings within, portraits of children and teens Clementine didn’t recognize.

“These were all drawn by Sophie,” Louis picked up one of the drawings, holding it out to Clementine. She took it in her own hands. It was a portrait of a young boy with large, thick-rimmed glasses upon his face. “She drew them throughout the years whenever we lost one of the kids. It was her way of honoring them, keeping a piece of them with of us so we’d always remember them,” Louis tapped on the drawing Clementine held. “That was Dewey. We lost him on the first night that walkers attacked the school. He was in the same room as me and Marlon, in the bunk across from us,” He pulled out another drawing, this one a portrait of a Latina girl who looked to be in her mid-teens. “Therissa was one of the strongest kids back when all this began. She helped figure out how to hunt and would always keep a level head whenever arguments broke out. She got bit while out hunting one day. Mitch had to-” Louis paused, his voice tightening. “He was the last one with her,”

Clementine took Louis’ hand in her own, gently rubbing her thumb along its side. It was sweet to see how much Louis cared but saddening at the same time. He had trauma just like her, pain she couldn’t touch. Silently, she reached into the box, pulling out another picture. A pale, thin boy stared back at her, his eyes issuing a challenge.

“That was Justin,” Louis’ tone grew somber. “He got a bunch of kids killed a few years back when they went way out past the school. Got into a huge fight with Marlon and somehow had the fucking nerve to blame it all on him. Some of the other kids agreed and left with Justin the next morning. We lost seven kids in two days. But Sophie still drew him and all the others that left. She said they should still be remembered in spite of all that,” There was a shuffling sound beside Louis and Clementine realized that he had placed all the portraits they’d drawn today beside him. “I figure if kids like that got a place in here, then Minnie and Marlon deserve one too,” He tucked the papers at the bottom of the stack before placing the lid back on the box.

“I’m glad you have them to remember everyone by,” Clementine murmured.

Louis nodded. “Tenn and Brody cleared out so much of Sophie’s art in the days following her and Minnie’s, well, disappearance. Most of it got buried at their graves. But I figured Sophie would want us to hold onto these. I just wish…” Louis sniffled, the tears he’d been holding back spilling out. “I wish I could draw the rest of them right. To finish Sophie’s work. Give her a portrait just as good as all the ones she made,”

Clementine leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Louis’ waist. She could feel the heat of his tears as he sobbed against her shoulder. Her own eyes prickled with unshed tears. She remembered the wrinkled, worn-out photo she’d carried of Lee for the year and a half after she lost him. How much joy and pain she felt whenever she looked upon it. The wrenching twist in her gut when she realized it had been lost. The fear over the passing years as certain details of him were lost to her, the permanence of his death sinking in more and more.

She carried all those she’d met and lost in those years on the road within her, the good and the bad. It was the same for Louis. Even within the safety of these walls, the Ericson kids had lost so many of their own. And those lives stuck with him just as much, the ghosts of his past, their memories a blessing as well as a burden.

Eventually the tears stopped. Louis continued to rest his head upon her shoulder. She could feel his heart beat against her. The rhythm was comforting. Grounding. Clementine felt her heart aching in a different way. There was a purity to it, the overwhelming love she felt for Louis filling her heart beyond its former limits. “Thank you. For sharing all this with me,”

“Thanks for listening,”

They pulled apart slowly. Clementine swept a hand across Louis’ cheek, brushing away the residual tears. “Ready to sleep?”

“Yeah. Let me just put these back,” Louis stood up, the box within his hands. He tucked it away where it had gone before, safe on the highest shelf. Then he scooted the chair back into place and came back to the couch, offering Clementine his hands.

She took them and came to a shaky balance on her foot, fingers clinging to Louis’ shirt till he had safely positioned the crutches under each arm. They made their way out of the room slowly, taking their time.

“Hey, Clem?”

“Mhm?”

“I love you,”

A happy thrill ran through her at the words. Clementine looked up at Louis, basking in the warmth she saw within his eyes. “I love you too,”

The rest of their walk was silent, grounded in unspoken understanding.

#twdg #twdg louis #twdg clementine #twdg aj #clouis #twdg sophie #twdg marlon #twdg brody #twdg mitch #twdg violet #angst #fanfic

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orestes-hungry-and-pylades-sober · 4 years ago

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Les Miserables Stonewall AU

Just hear me out for a moment: Les Mis AU taking place in 1969 Manhattan. June, if we want to be specific. Why June? Stonewall.

So my school does these trips every few years that are always a big deal. A really big deal. As in, a month in the Galapagos Islands. It got canceled cause of covid but still, y'all get my point, right?

I also came across these two amazing drawings the other day. I don't know either of the artists so if you do, please let me know so that I can credit them. Not my art

The art and the trip gave me the idea. Because look, pretty much the entire fandom ships e/R. And then there's Courf and Ferre, and everyone else. I'll list them all later.

So we end up with les amis in Manhattan during the Stonewall riots and protests. Obviously, they're going to get themselves caught up in it, right?

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There are two ways I might want to go with this. They're both good and they could both work out well but I'm not sure which one I'd rather use.

1) they're just all students at the same university who happen to be going on the trip together. Obviously, some of them would already know each other (like R has been completely in love with Enj for years) but realistically, you don't know everyone who goes to your school

2) all of them are part of the drama/theatre club. This one might work out in the sense that they're all going to Broadway to watch a performance or perform themselves (Phantom maybe?), and that the theatre club has become an accidental hidden magnet for closed queers. Tbh that's what it's like at my school and why I'm in drama.

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And here are basically all of the character roles.

Enjolras - Social equality/civics minor. He hasn't yet decided if he wants to pursue a higher degree in the same field or try something else. Often in detention or something because he gets into fights all the time. If he sees a bully picking on a kid, he will not hesitate to kick the bully's ass into next week. He's that one person that you'd go to if you had a problem, kinda like a school vigilante. A girl being harassed? Talk to Enjy and the man will never bother her again. He organizes a bunch of rallies and protests for what he believes in. Should've probably been suspended or expelled a while ago, for all the people he's hurt, but the teachers and school board know why he does it and know that he keeps the other students safe. Still manages to get really good grades, as long as he gets a bit of help from Ferre or Courf (and they're glad to help him study or smth)

Grantaire - slightly sketchy fine arts and music double major. He's a composer and his music is beautiful, and so are his paintings, but while he's amazing in those classes, he's just barely scraping by in the more 'academic' classes he's taking. Everyone knows him as 'the problem kid' but not in the same way as Enjy. R gets into fights and stuff too, but not exactly for good reasons. Has a drinking problem and has turned up to class drunk on a few occasions. Always carries around a sketchbook. He's completely in love with Enjy, and while the two of them aren't exactly friends, Enj likes him a lot more than most of the other students, since he's actually taken the time to get to know Grantaire personally rather than just as 'that one drunk problem kid who's about to flunk out.' Really sarcastic and sassy.

Combeferre - (y'all, I said his name with the E at the end kinda like 'ferreh' for so fucking long before someone decided to say it rhymed with Javert). Philosophy minor, lit major. He's probably on the student representation board. That one kid that manages to be a total nerd who literally corrects the dictionary for fun yet is still one of the coolest kids in the school. Everyone seems to think he's cool and composed and calm, and they're not wrong, but he's mentally screaming the loudest of all of them when it comes to finals or something. He's a bit of a perfectionist and knows it, but he's also used to being able to easily pass his classes. How do I describe this... he's outwardly composed but internally a mess. A lot of kids known as 'the smart one' who are overachievers and have teachers who praise their work, etc, are. Internally screaming 24/7. Believe me, I know what it's like.

Courfeyrac - he's the only mutual friend of everyone in the group. He's a literal ray of sunshine and always will go out of his way to say hello to someone and ask how they're doing that day, and check up on someone who's looking down. He's really good with kids and people in general. Might run a tutoring group or something because I've always thought he'd make a really good teacher. (Just imagine Courf as an elementary school teacher or something. Carrying little kids around on his shoulders, helping them with art projects, and hanging them up all over the classroom. He'd be kind and patient and funny and everyone would love him. Just- elementary teacher Courf). Best friends with Combeferre. Probably Jvj's aide or TA or something.

Marius - I think we all know him. He just Pontmercys his way through university and has a massive crush on this one girl who sits across the aisle from him in one of his classes. She's pretty and brave and smart and outspoken, and he admires her. Eponine, his good friend, sees this crush and convinces him to talk to her. He has a brilliant idea to ask her for help with homework and just botches up the entire thing and kinda embarrasses himself, (cue Eponine facepalming in the background) but she thinks it's sweet, and they end up becoming friends.

Eponine - honestly I don't know what I want to do with her. I know she's another student on the trip, but I only have the vaguest ideas of how she fits into the group, and even that is more of a vibe, rather than something I can put down in words. Used to have a sister that her parents often abused and used. Ponine did her best to shelter Cosette from their parents, but she didn't always succeed. However, she was able to get help and get her sister taken away. Their parents turned on Ponine instead. Her little brother ended up running away, but she wasn't able to. Eventually, she stops going home at night, sleeping at school instead. Professor Valjean found her outside his classroom one time when he finally left at like 2 in the morning after being stuck there grading papers. He ended up taking her home with him.

Cosette - Eponine's "sister". I will insist on these two getting along and being best friends, regardless of how you want to interpret their canon relationship. Imma just call them sisters, since they were raised that way. Eventually, she's taken away from the abusive household she lived in as a child. Soon she was sent to be fostered with a man who later became a university professor. Much to her surprise, she was reunited with her sister in a class and found out what had happened to Eponine in her absence. She quietly brought the issue up to her adopted father.

Valjean - history prof, and the supervising teacher for the trip. I call him Jvj and pronounce it sort of like 'Jivvy' and yes I know that's not even how it would be said and that it's weird af but I will live and die by that nickname. He's that one professor that everyone loves. While he never brings it up, his house is a second home to Eponine and Gavroche, ever since he found Ponine sleeping on a bench outside his classroom (Cosette may or may not have set this up so that he would find her), and now he has three children instead of just Cosette. By the end of the trip, he ends up with like 20 students who all treat him like he's their father.

Javert - ex-military school dean. He's coming on the trip as well because the school's two biggest problem students - Enj and R - are going on the trip and he doesn't trust Jvj to keep them in line. Everyone knows there's some sort of drama between him and one of the history professors, but no one can figure out the story between the two of them.

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Oh well look at me, totally ignoring the thing I said about them all not knowing each other. Welp. And yeah, I know I'm not being the most brick-accurate when it comes to their personalities or whatever, but I'm trying to keep the main feel of each of them while modifying it in a way that works for what I'm trying to write. And look if y'all want to make suggestions about roles for the other amis please go ahead cause I only really have theories for a few of them.

So anyway on to the actual plot.

They all settle in and the next day, they're kinda just let loose in the city to explore. Look we all know that Grantaire is probably going to try to find a bar or a pub or something. The thing is... he ends up at the Stonewall Inn. For y'all that don't know, it was a bar that mainly catered to members of the LGBT+ community. For the first time, he's kinda like 'there are... other people like me? I'm not some sort of a freak for being a man who's in love with another man?' and all that. Through some turn of events, Enj and R (maybe even a group of them?) end up there the next night. I remember reading this thing about since how common police raids and in order to avoid undercover police (*glares at Jav*) there were all sorts of safety measures in place and to be allowed in, they had to 'look gay' and you can bet R takes full advantage of the fact that he's there with Enj to get in.

The police conduct a surprise raid on the bar, and it explodes from just a regular thing into a massive deal, with a massive crowd of spectators. It quickly becomes more and more heated and eventually violent. They fight back against the police because you know neither of them would ever go quietly. Enj and R end up getting arrested together before everything goes insanely out of control, and if anyone else from their group was there, they manage to get away. In prison, Enjy talks to R about the whole deal. Through that conversation, they discuss the LGBT+ movement (though I can't remember if it was called that at the time) and Enjy eventually admits he's not straight, and one of the reasons he ended up becoming the School Vigilante is because he used to be tormented for it, and taught himself how to fight back. He refuses to let anyone else go through the same suffering for it. His protection soon extended to anyone being bullied and picked on, not just fellow queer people. The two of them decide that something has to be done, and this is the start of something massive. Enj tells R that he'll be going back whenever they get released, and Grantaire agrees to go with him.

Jav and Jvj come and negotiate for the release of the two of them since they're visiting French students and all that. When they get back to the place they're staying, I imagine they get a massive yelling-at from Ferre and Courf and Ponine. None of them know the full story, only that the two of them were caught in a bar and got arrested. I'm not sure how old all of them are in this... they're all over 18 in the novel (if I've done my math right) so they weren't arrested for being underage, so there are all sorts of rumors flying around about the two of them.

The next day, someone, I'm not sure who, overhears the two of them discussing what happened the night before, though they've both agreed not to mention anything personal about each other, in case that exact situation of being overheard occurs. However, the person who listens in on them goes to the rest of the group and talks about the protests, and eventually come to the decision that yes, what's happening is a massive deal, and they kinda all want to be part of it? Even if not all of them are part of the community, like Marius and Cosette, they're all very supportive allies and agree to join in these protests. Enj and R try to sneak out when they're confronted with the rest of the students. The two of them think the others are going to try to stop them until Courf steps up and says "like hell we're letting you do this alone,"

They all meet up before the Stonewall, joining a crowd of over a thousand people, surging against the police cordons. The bar itself has smashed windows and looks like someone tried to burn it, but it's still defiantly staying open. R gets his hands on a bunch of rainbow spray paint and joins in a group grafitting walls and buildings. Is grafitting even a word? Grafitti-ing? I dunno. But I had to look up when spray paint was invented and began being used and now I can tell you all about the history of aerosol. Being a writer, right?

They stick around for the rest of the week, joining in various rallies and protests at night, participating in the actual point of their trip during the day. Jav and Jvj obviously know what their students are doing, but they’ve both decided to not mention it at all.

One morning after the group has been out all night, they all escape the chaos and catch rides to Central Park? Maybe? I’ll have to see if that’s even possible. More research, yay!

Anyway, probably Central Park. I don’t really care how improbable it is rn. And we just get a series of shots of all the couples together who’ve found each other.

Enjolras and Grantaire, Courfeyrac and Combeferre, Joly and Bossuet, Bahorel and Feully, Maruis and Cosette. I’m going for lesbian or ace Eponine. Maybe both? If anyone else has suggestions, please lemme know.

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The only problem is, will I ever get around to actually writing this? No, probably not.

Sorry for the long post! Look I get that people feel weird leaving long replies or whatever but I promise you it's totally okay. More responses = me being more likely to actually write this, please and thank you! I'll probably come back to this someday and see if I can update it and add even more ideas and stuff to it, because I feel like I could turn this into a pretty cool fic, if anyone's even interested in it. Thank you so much, everyone!

#les mis #les miserables #au #alternate universe #stonewall #stonewall riots #history #enjolras #grantaire #courfeyrac #combeferre #enjoltaire #courferre #les amis #les amis de l'abc #marius #cosette #eponine

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jesswsc1 · 4 years ago

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Initially, I wasn’t overly sure how to interpret our title of ‘black books and black holes’. I’ve felt awfully low for a while, and it’s been heavy on my mind, so I figured I’d take this project as somewhat of an opportunity to reflect on the past, troubles i’ve had as well as using it as a kind of venting of current frustrations. These low points act as my own personal black hole, as I fall down into them for some time. Similarly to how black does, they absorb any kind of light surrounding. To me, at times, this has meant not enjoying things I’ve adored prior - such as spending time with loved ones, music and hobbies. Growing up there were several black holes, but amongst them I have fond memories with my cousins, siblings and childhood friends. Somebody who has always been there for me (whether it be through choice or not) has been my brother. I decided to incorporate pictures of us throughout my little black book as homage to him as he is truly one of my favourite people ever, despite the troubles I don’t think our bond has ever gone away - it’s merely taken small redirections. I have such admiration for him and know I can rely on him and speak free from judgement. Years ago, I believe it was 2013, he fell ill and this meant he had to be hospitalised for a couple months. It was really hard for my family and was of course even more difficult for him. Seeing as he was hospitalised, this meant regular trips to the hospital, on the car journeys we’d always have the same Passenger CD playing in the car. I guess we just never got around to changing it. On this CD was a particular song that we’d all sing along to, which funnily enough is called ‘holes’. Hearing this song now makes me feel so safe and hopeful, knowing it got me as well as my family through a rough period in time. I made sure to incorporate some of the lyrics into one of my book spreads. One line reads, ‘but we carry on’, which has definitely stuck with me.

The constellation element of our project had me reflecting on space and the universe, and what exactly it means to me. Although I’m not too into space, I’m definitely fond of the moon. After my parents divorced, I was left in custody of my mum for a while. A teacher told me to look at the moon, because she’d be looking at it too at the same time and thinking of me. During this time I was living in a troubled home (I made this house the exterior of my book*) and would be heavily supported by her in school. She’d give me notebooks to express myself in and explain what was happening, as well as a departing gift when I inevitably left to go live with my dad here in Bury. Despite being a small part of my life, she still means a lot to me and has a place in my heart. Though not physically present with me anymore, she cared enough to find me years later and reached out to make sure I'm doing fine. It's reassuring knowing there are people as pure as she is. Because of this I dedicated a small section of my book to her that looks like a slither of the moon when the pages are flipped back onto it.

My black book was titled ‘Wailing Ghosts’ by Pu Songling, containing 14 tales of various monsters and creatures, which is fitting to my work revolving around numerous burdens I have that seem to act as these little monsters also, creeping up every now and again. I did consider creating my own ‘chapters’, one for each black hole of mine, but didn’t want to structure my book in that way as I didn’t want to disrupt my creativity or force things.

I say ‘was’ because I actually decided I wasn’t all that keen on how i’d layed my pages out. I instead took a second black book and collaged, reworked and inserted pages into a new one. I’m really glad I did so, as I now have a book I much prefer over the first. An aspect I did keep relatively whole was the swirly, illusion-looking front cover with a hole burned through the centre, almost like a little entrance to another world. Stanley Donwood inspired this page through his swirly seas he often features in his works, as he uses a bold thick line against white ones. I opted to put this page underneath my front cover so it still got to be showcased - only cutting a part off the corners to make sure it fit.

Featured in my book are a few small self portraits, in varying cartoon-y styles. Some are only inspired by my face whilst others were drawn whilst staring into the mirror, then back at the page. Having struggled with low self esteem, there have been times where I don’t even want to perceive myself let alone interpret that into a drawing. Meanwhile doing my book work, I realised I have never drawn a self portrait - not since being a kid anyway - and had even actively avoided doing so during GCSE art. Over the past year or so, I’ve overcome an array of issues I’d had, so found myself able to draw these little portraits. It sounds pretty insane to me now that I would’ve found it so hard before, knowing I enjoyed coming up with various ways to put me in my book, even wanting to print pictures of me (sadly our printers decided to act up so I was not able to implement these). I feature my bathroom mirror on one page as it’s been the target of over-analyzing and although I have come far in self love, it still remains a deadly weapon.

Claude Heath’s sketchy, rough portraits inspired me to create my own. I really enjoy how reckless his style is, as I'm trying to escape the ‘this has to be perfect’ mentality, Heath is a great example of how you don’t need to overthink your work. It can just exist and look cool. It’s fine. This was also encouraged in Thursday drawing sessions where we did blind drawings. I kept this mindset whilst doing my book as I tend to either overwork myself trying to create ‘perfect’ or do absolutely nothing, so I went with the flow of how my book panned out.

Seeing as my work theme is a little on the darker side, I considered subduing the colours or perhaps even going full black and white. However, I love utilising colour in my art and felt this would make me feel unmotivated and uninspired. Especially seeing as this book is about me, it’s not insensitive to anybody to make it colorful and exciting. So, I have. Plus, despite everything I’m still smiling so I wanted to convey that somehow. Sort of, making the best out of bad situations. Damien Hirst’s usage of colours influenced me to just have fun with it, in the same way he does when creating his works.

Throughout my book I have experimented with oil pastel, paint, staples, collage, rorschach ink blotting, screen printing, spray paint, photocopied pictures, flip book, tracing paper, washi tape and i’m sure there’s more. Point is, I wanted to cover a wide range of techniques seeing as there were many pages. In doing so I believe this was the best way as it meant there was a flow of ideas coming as I worked. I’ve learned that I love a range of ways of working as it keeps my brain ticking, meaning the work doesn’t feel stagnant and dull. Sadly there were lots more ideas I had for what to do into my book, but due to various reasons I couldn't. Such as wanting to sew using a sewing machine into my book, I tried to set my sewing machine up but when I would go to sew the thread would snap. But I believe it’s definitely something worth trying another time, as I was intrigued to see how it’d turn out. I also wanted to make a better flip book from the corner of my little page (see animation on blog) as it’s really simplistic. But drawing the little stick men alone took me an hour or so, and I didn’t see that being of much importance compared to getting actual pages filled out. Thus, I left it as a simple stickman. That being said I think the stick man illustrates the cycle of being in a slump, which is relatable to how lockdown is feeling and fits well with my book contents. I felt inspired by an artist who goes by ‘inhalerqueen’ (Amanda) on tiktok, who draws a simple, silhouette-like figure repeatedly. She calls this figure ‘void’ and i’d consider her work to be vent art, expressing how she feels. Originally I wanted to make my stick men look like void, however I don’t think that would be all that beneficial/change the effectiveness and would only take up more time.

If I were to have a soundtrack to my work I would opt for ‘Yellow’ by Coldplay. Reason being, regardless of my state of mind I return to this song and feel the same listening through every time. It’s such a lovely song and just feels like peace, as cheesy as that may sound considering Coldplay is very much dad music. It reminds me of my yellows, and how much they mean to me. Even with the black, I have my yellows. Lyrics to the song can be found in my book also.

Overall, I’m relatively pleased with my work. There’s no doubt things I would do differently, but I’m glad I’ve had this experience and was able to vent a little similarly to how Amanda does. In future I hope to perhaps recreate this book and treat it as kind of a ‘rough’ or ‘plan’ for a more refined and thought-out version, perhaps this time with chapters like I'd considered and with ideas I didn’t get to delve into. There are pages I’m not so keen on, but I’m proud of myself for just leaving them as opposed to overworking them and/or scrapping them just because they aren’t what I like. I love the pictures of me and my brother, if I could I would’ve collaged more into my book however our printer simply wouldn’t allow it. As well as the exterior of the book, as I think it adds a personal element as opposed to being left as it was.

#blackbooksandblackholes #jessblackbooksandblackholes

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purplesunrisefanfic · 4 years ago

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This is not the type of post I normally write and I won’t make a habit of it.

I had no idea how to write this post. This post is inherently problematic and I acknowledge that, but I ask that you do take the time to read it because I honestly believe that this is one of those times where it’s better to be problematic than silent. I am autistic and that’s where I’m coming from here. I can’t speak for Black autistic people but I have tried my best to ensure that I am speaking up for Black autistic people to the best of my ability.

I’m sorry there isn’t a read more, the mobile app and site on Tumblr does not do that.

I’m very worried by some of the generalisations I’ve seen being reblogged all over the place about what people should and should not in terms of grieving Chadwick Boseman and how they may be impacting some disabled Black people.

For example, I have seen posts that are very hardline about how it’s “wrong” to think/feel/say “T’Challa has died” as opposed to saying “Chadwick Boseman has died” and I have also seen posts that categorically denounce anyone who might want to react by writing fanfiction about T’Challa dying. There are other examples but I will use those two so that there are not too many.

I suspect that many of these comments were aimed at sketchy white people but they didn’t say so and that worries me. It worries that there is problem where allistic (non-autistic) and otherwise neurotypical people are failing to recognise that assuming everyone will know what you mean and/or that Black people will know it isn’t aimed at them is an ableist concept. One of the key problems people with autism face is that allistic people are often as bad as knowing what autistic people will or won’t assume or find obvious as we are when the shoe is on the other foot.

I’m not saying that some Black autistic and otherwise neurodiverse Black ppl won’t find it obvious that certain posts are implied to be addressed towards white people, because some will. But not everyone will. When it comes to autism, if you don’t say exactly and precisely what you mean then you cannot guarantee that the exact and precise thing you mean will be understood.

There are children on this platform. Are you sure you wanna say mass generalisations about how it’s wrong to do this, worry about that, think this way, express yourself that way and so forth on a platform where grieving Black children might see it? Where Black autistic children and adults might feel shamed or inferior (once again) because there’s a ton of notes on a post telling them that the way they think or feel or express themselves while grieving is wrong?

Don’t make any of these generalisations, please. Go back and rethink your posts, edit them, say what you mean. I’m not trying to be a white person inserting myself into this issue because I’m butthurt about posts calling out the shitty behaviour of white people. No, actually, it’s kinda the opposite, I’m butthurt because some of you forget to say “white people” when you needed to say “white people” I’m butthurt bc I know a lot of people think it’s okay to assume that everyone in a marginalised group always “gets it.” That idea hurts autistic people who are in another marginalised group. That idea is ableist. A person’s Blackness is not contingent on their ability to read neurotypical social rules. Do not assume that every single Black person knows instinctively that your post is aimed at white people being dicks who only care about Marvel, useless you actually say something like “Dear white people being dicks who only care about Marvel.” Yes, most people tend to “get it.” But unless you say “white people” you are the taking the risk that an autistic Black person won’t get that subtext. Please don’t take that risk when you the consequence could be that you effectively tell a Black autistic/neurodiverse people that they are grieving wrong.

I cannot think of many people out there that will be worse off for today’s news than Black autistic people for whom Chadwick, Black Panther, Marvel or superheroes in general is a special interest. I cannot put into words how much is at stake for the adults and children to whom that description applies. Some of these people may not be able to separate their mental concept of Chadwick Boseman and their mental concept of T’Challa in the way the average person does. They are not wrong, they are not lesser. They have nothing to be ashamed of. The last thing they deserve to see today is ill-thought grief-shaming generalisations that tell them aren’t respecting their hero properly.

Please check your posts, amend your posts, clarify and specify everything. If you wanna call out white people doing a thing say “white people,” if you wanna call out doing a thing in the context of having a shitty motive, call that out specifically. Explicitly say that doing X for Y reason is wrong because Y is a shitty motive. Explicitly say that the problem is Y motive. Or if it’s that the thing is okay to do privately, but some people are doing it inconsiderately and that’s hurting you, say “It’s inconsiderate to do X in this way. If you are doing X, please [specify how they can do it in a way that doesn’t harm others].” If you’re not sure how to communicate in a manner that is autism friendly, you can ask me and I’ll try to help.

Somewhere along the way I forgot to keep saying “autistic/neurodiverse,” every time and just said autistic sometimes. I’m sorry for that. So for the avoidance of doubt, this applies to anyone, diagnosed or undiagnosed/not yet diagnosed with any element of the differences I’ve talked about it, not just autism.

And to anyone of the people out there that I’m trying to talk about: How you think, how you feel, and how you process things is valid. If all you can think about today, tomorrow and maybe for a while is your fears about the future for T’Challa, that’s fine. More than fine, it’s a reflection of a way of thinking and perceiving that the world would be WORSE OFF without. If you write fanfiction about T’Challa to process your emotions then that’s okay too. Those are just two examples, the same goes pretty much across the board, however you express yourself. And actually most creative people tend to be glad to inspire other people to be creative, so if I had to bet on it, I’d bet that Chadwick Boseman would more likely than not be glad to see you writing.

If someone wants to take this rough point and write it better, please, please do. Ngl, I’m struggling with this, this is my best attempt at making these points but I’m not convinced it’s as good it ought to be. Please @ me if you do, bc I’d be glad to know.

And I’m fresh out of everything right now but here are some notes that I should add:

No one is exempt from considering autistic people, but that said I highly suspect it’s probably white people who are perpetuating a lot of this stuff, maybe even authoring it.

Every Black autistic person is inherently/fundamentally valuable regardless of their “contribution” to society, but also Black autistic people as a whole are valuable to society. The world would be shittier with Black Autistic people.

I’m a white autistic person trying to draw inferences and look out for other autistic people as best I can but I cannot and do not speak for Black autistic people. Raise their voices if you can.

#autdhd

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