#maybe I’ll draw some other Erik more seriously

[blackghostm2oart]

Cherik drawing that took me too long to finish.

I love Cherik, I had to draw him more seriously, that pic of him choosing his hat is one of my faves, so… Here is my attempted redraw (I know that the shadows don’t really make sense, maybe I’ll fix them or maybe not idk).

Pretty happy of how this came out :)

[vera-simik]

Wanted: The Witcher. Status: Urgent

Ok. I did it. I finally translated it all. So there it is - my super weird multi-crossover crack-fic, because honestly? Almost everything I ever wrote is more or less crack-fic 😅

Proceed on your own risk  😅

(early morning)

(OK, fine, let’s be honest – NOT so early)

(Vědmi and Erik are sitting in the kitchen, both have a mug of a hot beverage in front of them; Vědmi is also messing around with a small pile of papers)

(Andy comes in)

Andy: “I bid you good morning.”

Erik: (waves sort of disinterestedly) “Mornin’.”

Vědmi: (mumbles something, doesn’t glance up from her work)

Andy: “Judging by her expression, Geralt hasn’t shown up yet.”

Erik: “What a pity you didn’t place a bet. You’d win.”

Andy: “Ah… So, she’s creating WHAT exactly?”

Erik: “Do you remember when she said that if the witcher wouldn’t show up in two days, she’d have to act?”

Andy: “… yes?”

Erik: “She started to create wanted posters.”

Vědmi: “Alright, you two. (puts papers aside) You can stop talking about me as if I weren’t here, and tell me instead – how does this sound? (clears her throat) Have you seen this witcher? Responds to the name Geralt of Rivia. If you find him, be so kind and punch him in the face. (looks at her companions) So? What do you think?”

(both men remain silent)

Erik: “Well…”

Andy: “Perhaps I would word it in less emotive w-“

(suddenly, a portal opens in the kitchen, and Geralt stumbles out of it, slightly green in the face)

Vědmi: (with a mischievous grin on her face) “Aaa, look who FINALLY decided to join us! And as I see, unspeakably wasted!”

Geralt: (mutters) “Be so kind and stop screeching. You’re worse than an echidna, and I, moreover, have a feeling like I could even hear the colours.”

Vědmi: “And why are you acting so surprised, with such a hangover? Shame on you! What am I supposed to tell your wife when she comes here and sees you like this?”

Geralt: (takes a seat at the table) (in puzzlement) “Why would Yen come here? Are you two planning on doing something here or what?”

Vědmi: (facepalm) “And he’s asking! You said yourself that your anniversary is approaching, and then you asked me if I could do you a favor and write it down to the calendar in case you’d forget! You wanted to take her out tonight, and you were pretty damn secretive about it. That’s why we wanted to launch a hunt for you! (points at the pile of wanted posters)”

Geralt: (looks a bit uncertain) “Tonight? Are you sure? How long was I gone?”

Erik: “Longer than you think, mon ami. Did Regis make a new brew of his mandrake moonshine again?”

Andy: „Whatever it was, I suppose it was quite impressive. A witcher with a mild alcohol poisoning… I don’t think it’s something you can see every day.“

Geralt: (waves hand in a dismissive manner) „Eh… it’s not… I don’t wanna talk about it, it’s not very int-“

Vědmi: „Oh no, no, no, keep talking, we’re all ears.“

Geralt: „Ugh, as you wish. Dandelion had the – you know – bachelor party, and – I admit – maybe, just MAYBE it took a bit longer than we planned, and…“

(everyone’s silent for a moment)

Erik: „P-perhaps I did not understand correctly? WHAT happened to Dandelion?“

Vědmi: (shrieks out) „The oaf’s gonna get married?!“

Geralt: (slightly tormented expression) „I begged you to stop screeching…“

Vědmi: (ignoring witcher’s headache) „So he really wants to get hitched… That’s impossible…“

Andy: „And who’s the poor unfortunate soul he talked into it?“

Vědmi: „Crystal clear it’s Priscilla. Am I right? (pokes Geralt) Don’t sleep, and tell him I’m right!“

Geralt: „Does it look to you like anyone could fall asleep here when SOMEONE’s still shouting? (to Andy) And of course, it’s Priscilla. Or did you think he managed to smooth Annarietta’s ruffled feathers?“

Erik: (laughs in his sleeve) „Or worse – Vespula’s?“

Vědmi: “My, my! Someone’s very well versed in latest gossips, am I right, monsieur le phantôm?”

Erik: “Oh please. I know the details just because this shrew and my María know each other. As for me, I could live even without this knowledge.”

Andy: “María indeed knows almost everyone. No offense, of course.”

Geralt: “Could we PLEASE get back to much more serious matter than why and from where do whose partners know each other? Mine will skin me alive when she sees me in this state! (more or less to himself) Damn, Vesemir was right once again, when he said we shouldn’t drink so much because we would regret it later. But is it my fault Zoltan fetched that archival Mahakam spirit immediately after that?”

Vědmi: “Can’t you just, I don’t know, brew yourself the Wives’ Tears of something like that?”

Geralt: “Look… the fact I’m sitting here, talking to you in a way that somehow makes sense, doesn’t mean a thing. I haven’t felt this sick as long as I can remember. And I’m not entirely sure what will happen the moment I’ll try to get up. I’d throw up into the pot before I could even try to brew something in it, most likely.”

Erik: (to Vědmi) “I’d LOVE to know how the rest of the participants ended up.”

Andy: (gets up) “I can’t stand by any longer, Geralt. Come on, I think I have something that would help you down in the laboratory.” (leaves the room)

(Geralt slowly and carefully follows him, Vědmi and Erik remain in the kitchen)

(they’re sitting in silence for a while)

Erik: “Don’t look at me like that. We should have figured out sooner that Dandelion and Zoltan were involved in this.”

Vědmi: “Meh, I don’t give a hoot about who wrecked him like this. He could be drinking with every single one of those dum-dums of the Wild Hunt for all I care, he’s an adult, and as such, he should know that excessive drinking equals headache. I agree with Vesemir almost every time, and I don’t intend to make any exceptions this time. Don’t drink, don’t regret it afterward. But that’s not what’s on my mind.”

Erik: “Then what… Wait, let me guess. Is it because you had an itch for Dandelion?”

Vědmi: (deadly serious) “Tell me this was just a weak attempt to make a remarkably stupid joke because otherwise, I’m giving you a ten-second head start. Drogo helped me retrieve all of the knives which fell behind the stove about a week ago.”

Erik: (raises hands in a defensive gesture) “Keep calm. As you say, it’s just a stupid joke. But it HAS something to do with the bard, non?”

Vědmi: “I’m mostly nice to that fool, in bounds of possibility, and I haven’t told him he’s a nitwit and a skirt chaser to his face for more than a year! For fun nor seriously! And he doesn’t even send me an invitation!”

Erik: “So, is this the only thing that’s troubling you?”

Vědmi: “Tsk. ‘The only thing,’ he says. Hm…  Do you think it could be due to that one time three years ago when we stole his lute, and then we sent it back to him one string at a time?”

Erik: “To our – and your especially – defence, I need to add that he was flirting with you in a very indiscreet way. And this was quite adequate retribution. I think he didn’t invite you more likely because he remembers very well when we tied him up with those strings for a similar offence, and that Nuada and NoName sang an intentionally off-key version of Dornishman’s Wife to torture him a bit more. I can’t help it, but I think you didn’t even try to stop them.”

Vědmi: (considers it) “Maybe you’re right… Oh! Or is it because of that other time when I dashed the leftovers of the disgusting old soup at him because he was serenading me underneath the window?”

Erik: “When I’m thinking of it now… We’re giving him fairly hard time, aren’t we?”

Vědmi: (theatrically) “Living amongst the group of fictional villains is corrupting me!”

Erik: “I see myself more like an antihero, and I could argue over this too. And don’t make yourself look like a victim, because you’re not innocent either. Should I remind to you some of these ideas came from your head?”

Vědmi: “Ha! Such an insult! If Andy were here, he’d stand up for me for sure!”

Erik: “But Anderien is out of question. To tell the truth, I’m not entirely sure he could…”

Vědmi: (with a bit of “Creator’s Sense of Guilt” in her voice) “Mind what you’re saying, you could be in for a nasty surprise. He had certain moments in life where you wouldn’t want to get into his ha-“

(once again, another portal opens in the kitchen)

Vědmi: (bangs the table with her fist) “Oh come on now! What kind of manners is this, turning my kitchen into interchange…”

(out of the portal comes Yennefer; it doesn’t look like she’s in a good mood)

Vědmi: “… station. Mornin’?”

Erik: “Eeh… bonjour, madame Yennefer?”

Yennefer: “Where is he?!”

Vědmi: (immediately turns the posters blank side up and quickly tries to gloss over Geralt’s absence) “Honestly? We weren’t expecting you to come here so soon! I thought you were meant to arrive in the evening! And I’d take a guess Gery didn’t expect you so soon either… He went to… went to…”

Yennefer: “Well?!”

Erik: “To take a shower.”

Vědmi: “To get the flowers. (looks at Erik) (kind of desperately) Wait for a second, he said he’s going to take a shower right after the afternoon coffee!”

Erik: “You wait! He wanted to get the flowers when he’s done showering!”

Vědmi: “Uh-oh…”

Yennefer: “If only you weren’t driveling… I know very well what he’s been doing. When it comes to that half-witted bard, what else could they be up to? Invoking the djinn?!”

Vědmi: (snickers) “Yeah, gin was probably involved too.” (discreetly puts the pile of posters out of sorceress’ sight)

Yennefer: “What do you have here?”

Vědmi: “Eee… nothing. I was drawing… a bit…”

Yennefer: (takes a seat) “He was supposed to let me know after he’d left that party. Don’t look at me like this. After the pogrom in Rivia, I tend to worry about Geralt a lot more.”

Erik: “Our dear witcher didn’t think this through, I agree completely. But why didn’t you go to look for him – let’s say – at Kaer Morhen?”

Yennefer: “Do you suppose I didn’t already go there? At the first go! Wait, no. At the second go, actually. At first, I went to look for him at that Dandelion’s tavern in Novigrad. I almost caused Zoltan a heart attack. Nevertheless, they told me Geralt already left and sent me right to Kaer Morhen.”

Vědmi: “Now this is picking up speed. Do you want some coffee? Why am I asking, you do for sure. Black with milk, am I right?”

Yennefer: (curtly nods and continues) “When I saw how Eskel and Lambert came out of this event, I knew it wouldn’t be realistic to expect Geralt would be better off no matter how. There are only three places he tends to spend a lot of time at, and since your house is the last one I didn’t already check out, it would be a huge coincidence if he didn't come back here, either. (sighs) I’m going to lose my mind because of him one day.”

Erik: “I think you're a bit too severe on him.”

Vědmi: “Yeah, that poor fellow doesn’t really deserve this… today. I don’t want to defend him, he sure has a lot of imperfections, but I’m ready to vouch for him right now.”

Erik: “He probably just forgot to let you know, it happens even to the best of us… ehm…”

Vědmi: (pokes the phantom to the ribs) (under her voice) “Don’t overdo it, I bet there’s a lot of things you don’t want María to find out…”

Erik: (ignores Vědmi) “She’s babbling again, it happens a lot, don’t listen to her, it’s not worth it. But what did I want to say before she interrupted me? Ah, oui. Geralt forgot to let you know. And as I mentioned, it happens. See, a lot going on – I mean, there’s this anniversary of yours, his best friend is going to get married… And I admit, he did drink, indeed.  But only a bit, and then he got back here quite early.”

Vědmi: (latches on Erik’s improvisation) “Masked weirdo over here’s right. You have not only one, but three witnesses of Geralt’s arrival!”

Yennefer: (slightly ironically) “It's not like I didn't believe what you two are saying, but where do you have the third one?”

Erik: “It’s Anderien Ettreasil, you must have heard of him.”

Yennefer: “That half-elven alchemist? Well, I sometimes do trade with him. Sure, he’s quite trustworthy, but..”

Vědmi: “Exactly! Right now, he and Gery are doing something down in the lab. (ostentatiously pretends to be offended) And they didn’t even let ME to join them! It’s gotta be some sort of surprise, believe me!"

(sound of the opened door can be heard; in a moment, Andy and Geralt are coming in the kitchen) (Geralt’s in a significantly better and more sober state than he was in after he got out of the portal)

Vědmi: “Great! And now there are all of us this situation applies to!”

Geralt: (expectably surprised) “Yen! What are you doing here? We weren’t expecting you to come here so soon…”

Erik: (gives Vědmi a wink) “Where did I hear this today?”

Yennefer: (stands up from the table, folds her arms) (surprisingly calmly) “Geralt of Rivia.”

Vědmi: (to Erik and Andy) (half seriously) “Uh-oh, she called him by his full name! All hell’s going to break loose!”

Yennefer: “I always thought you’re a self-dependent grown man. And that you know what does it mean when we agree on something.”

Geralt: (you can tell from his look that he wishes to be somewhere else)

Andy: “Well… I’d better be going, I’m not sure if I put the burner out…” (prepares to beat a retreat in a very diplomatic way)

Erik: “No, no, stay here. This is going to get interesting.”

Yennefer: (ignores all of the distractions and continues) “After all, I even believed you could even be responsible. And meanwhile, you're even worse than our daughter. She at least lets me know whenever she gets held up somewhere and knows when she's getting back home.”

Geralt: “But Yen…”

Yennefer: “Do I look like I finished speaking?! This one’s for disappearing and not letting me know about your whereabouts, leaving me worried sick!” (slaps Geralt)

(Geralt, because he knows he “earned” it, handles the slap with at least some dignity)

(two thirds of the onlookers, on the other hand, react greatly exaggerated)

Vědmi: (overacts covering her eyes) “Holy shiP!”

Erik: (with extremely false concern in his voice) “Oww, this might HURT!”

Yennefer: “And this one…”

(everyone’s getting for the worst – Vědmi even above her usual “fondness” towards other people’s misfortune)

Yennefer: (no one’s expecting her kissing Geralt on the same cheek where she slapped him before) “… is for your effort after all these years we’re together. I’m glad you didn’t forget our anniversary, and I greatly appreciate it. However (critically examines her dearest from tip to toe) that vomit stain on your shirt kind of ruins this moment.”

Andy: (to Geralt) “I was preparing to let you know.”

Yennefer: “It doesn’t matter right now. But I’m hoping you’ll smarten up until the evening. If not, Triss still owes me a bottle of wine, so I have an alternative program. (opens a new portal) See you later, Geralt. (steps into the portal and disappears)

(nothing much happens for a while)

Geralt: “Alright, I admit it, I tend to make mistakes. You can stop laughing, Vědmi.”

Vědmi: (wipes off tears from the previous fit of laughing) “Sorry. I… pfffhehe… I’m okay, yeah…”

Geralt: “So… first I’ll go to throw this (takes off the filthy shirt) into the laundry basket, and then…”

Erik: “Watch that fanservice, you’re going to kill our landlady.”

Vědmi: (blushes) “Tssk!”

Geralt: (chuckles and leaves the room with the shirt thrown over his shoulder)

(the not-so-early morning quickly regains its previous calmness; lonely trio goes back to their not-so-hot-anymore beverages)

(ANOTHER portal opens, and random young Nilfgaardian soldier falls out of it)

Vědmi: (swiftly stands up) “Oh, come on! Are you fookin’ kiddin’?!”

Random Nilfgaardian soldier: (glances around) “T-this isn’t Wyzima…?”

Erik: (sarcastically) “No way! How did you notice?”

RNS: (at the beginning of a panic attack) “By the Great Sun, this can’t be happening! What am I going to do now?! I don’t even know how and why that portal opened up right in front of me! General Voorhis is going to kill me once I got back! I…”

Andy: “Calm down, boy. I suppose we know general Voorhis. He’s about this tall, kinda ginger, likes horses…?”

Erik: “Oh wait, isn’t it the same ginger Nilfgaardian who tried to hit on our Vědmi?”

Andy: “But of course he is! (to RNS) Don’t worry, young friend, Vědmi will help you with your trouble. She and general Voorhis know each other VERY WELL! (unsuccessfully tries to hide a grin; Erik already gave up trying)”

Vědmi: (annoyed) “Cut it out, you two! I agreed to go out with him once for a glass of wine in Novigrad. ONCE! And you’re immediately making a mountain out of a molehill! And I wish I didn’t go there. He looked like he’s hoping we could repeat it some other time…”

Erik: (mockingly) “Exactly.”

RNS: (observes the conversation considerably confused)

Vědmi: (dramatically) “OK! Fine! I’ll do it! I’ll put myself out for greater good and explain it wasn’t a desertion nor treason! But the moment he starts to hit on me again, I’ll bite your heads off! (to RNS) And you – sit down for a moment, I still need to make myself look like at least half decent human being, and it’s going to take a while. Do you want some coffee?”

  THE END

[100storiesin2020]

Chapter 6: The First Meeting

Come read on AO3!

Blue anxiously followed Renee into the Foxhole stadium. Renee had come by the Raven boys' dorm at 4:30, offering to ride along to give directions and open up the building for them. She had sat in the backseat with Ronan and Adam, and had surprisingly hit it off with Ronan. Or perhaps it wasn't surprising, with that cross around her neck. Blue was still nervous, though. She was about to meet the whole team of Foxes. These were people that she would be playing with, expected to get along with, spending a lot of time with, perhaps even be friends with.

She hadn't had much practice with friendship yet.

Their footsteps echoed in the empty hallways. Renee was ahead of her, softly speaking with Ronan about local churches. "I know of at least one Catholic church in walking distance, and others in town," she was saying. Behind her Gansey and Adam were bickering about who would buy a toaster for their dorm. They probably didn't realize Ronan would just dream one up for them. Maybe she could talk him into making it orange.

They reached a door, which Renee opened, and the five of them filed in. Everyone else had already arrived. Blue checked her watch to make sure they weren't late, and saw that they were actually five minutes early.

This must be the team lounge, she thought. It wasn't a large room, and the three couches and two chairs made it positively cramped. On the left hand side, Andrew sat next to Neil, the third spot on the couch filled by a dark haired boy who could be no other than Kevin Day. Then there was a chair with Andrew's twin, Aaron. Nicky, Matt, and Dan were sitting on the middle couch. The chair next to them was occupied by a beautiful blond girl who Blue immediately disliked (who needs perfectly curled hair for a sports team meeting?). The third couch was empty.

Gansey immediately strode across the room for Kevin, extending his hand. "Hello! I'm Gansey. You're Kevin Day, right?"

Kevin stood and shook his hand, a perfect plastic smile in place. "That's me. Welcome to the team."

Gansey beamed. "Well thank you! You're a history major, right?"

Kevin kept the plastic composure despite seeming surprised. "Yes, I am."

"Then tell me, Kevin Day. What do you know about Welsh kings?"

Blue rolled her eyes as Kevin Day, Famous Exy Player Extraordinare, launched into a passionate speech about the Celtic countries and languages. Based on the startled looks from most of the other Foxes (Neil and Andrew were unfazed), this wasn't a common occurrence. She noticed Renee giving Matt and Dan a significant look before crossing the room to talk to Andrew. Blue stood there for a moment, unsure what to do with herself, but Ronan had no such inhibitions. He stalked over to the empty couch and sprawled across it like he owned the whole thing.

Adam and Blue smirked at each other before joining Ronan at the couch. Adam pushed Ronan's legs over the side, making room for him to sit. Blue didn't bother. She sat directly on his stomach. This forced a loud grunt out of Ronan before he shoved her off. "Fuck off, maggot." Blue laughed again as Ronan sat up straight, leaving her a proper place on the side of the couch.

As she sat, Nicky grinned at her. "Hi Blue!" he exclaimed. He turned to Adam and Ronan and waggled his eyebrows. "And welcome to the team, hotties!"

Adam, who had been sipping from a water bottle, began to splutter. Ronan thumped him on the back, making everything worse as Adam wheezed and turned red. He finally caught his breath. "Hello to you too..." he trailed off.

"I'm Nicky Hemmick! Sorry to startle you. But you two are both seriously hot."

"I'm going to tell Erik you're flirting again," Aaron warned.

Nicky waved him off. "He knows I love him. Anyway, I'm a backliner and the resident gay icon. Who are you guys?"

Adam and Ronan looked at each other for a quick moment, having one of those exchanges that Blue still didn't know how to read. Adam turned to Nicky first while Ronan glowered. "I'm Adam Parrish, offensive dealer."

"Ronan Lynch, goalie."

Nicky whistled. "You look like you eat babies for breakfast, man."

Blue snorted. "You should see him with his pet raven on his shoulder. It really completes the aesthetic."

This drew the attention of everyone besides Kevin and Gansey, who were still avidly discussing history. "A pet raven, huh?" asked Dan.

Ronan didn't respond. He gave Nicky one of his unsettling, menacing grins. "I don't generally eat babies for breakfast, but one of these days I may make an exception." He leaned forward, making an obvious threat.

Nicky looked terrified. "Oh, okay, cool cool, okay, nice to meet you, I think I'll let these guys introduce themselves." Nicky turned and tried to insert himself into the history conversation, which clearly went over his head. Blue laughed.

"If you find Nicky amusing, then maybe your sense of humor is better than your fashion sense," said the tall blond.

"Excuse me?" asked Blue. "Do you have a problem with my clothes, princess?"

"Well, yeah. You look like a rainbow vomited all over you, and not the way that Nicky usually does."

Blue spluttered. "Just because I don't buy into the patriarchy's dictation of how I should present myself -" she began heatedly, but she was cut off when Ronan stomped on her foot and Renee plopped in to Allison's lap.

"Blue, this is my girlfriend, Allison." Renee gave Allison a soft, but disappointed, look. "She is one of our roommates and I am hoping that you two will get along."

Blue glared at Allison, and if looks could kill they would both be dead. Renee cleared her throat. Allison sighed, seemingly quelled for now, and moved on to the next person on the bench. "So how about you, scary boy? Lynch, was it? You sure have a menacing grin."

Ronan gave her one of those grins. "Is that right?"

"Yeah. It's even creepier than Andrew's lack of emotion, which is saying something."

He scanned the other seats. "We're referring to the midget with the arm bands?" he drawled. Andrew looked back with apparent unfeeling, but Blue wasn't fooled. He'd been watching them this whole time so far, categorizing every move they made, probably weighing them to figure out how much of a threat they may be. She wondered if he thought Ronan was more dangerous than her, or less so.

Blue snorted. "You should know. Hasn't Gansey read you all his notes yet?"

"What notes?" Dan asked.

"Gansey really likes to make detailed notebooks," Adam said.

"He's a major nerd who likes to research anything important to him," Blue added. "You should see the journal. It's a work of art."

"Hey, Dick!" Ronan called, making Gansey wince a bit. "Where's the notebook?"

"Oh, I've got it right here," Gansey said, pulling it out of his backpack. He always carried a backpack these days. He handed the notebook to Ronan, who passed it to Blue, who passed it to Dan.

Dan opened it up and flipped gently through the pages. She turned so that Renee and Allison could see without moving, and Nicky and Matt peered over her shoulder. "You weren't kidding," she said. "This has our heights, our majors, our particular strengths on the court." Andrew stood up from his couch and came behind them as she continued to turn the pages. "Look, it's got newspaper clippings. He's highlighted some comments. Oh, this is the time Neil roasted that reporter."

"Interesting," Andrew drawled, startling everybody on the couch. "Your stalker binder wasn't nearly this pretty, Neil."

Neil laughed and came over to see. "It wasn't intended to be pretty."

Kevin and Gansey finally wandered over, and Dan handed the journal to Kevin. Kevin flipped to the section on himself, of course. Blue knew that it contained official stats, details of the chess piece tattoo, evidence for Kevin's implication that Riko Moriyama broke his hand, and Gansey's own observations of Kevin's playing style. "It says here," Kevin said, "that you think I'm too predictable with my shots."

"I did the math. You aim for the same place about 75% of the time. It's always-"

"The top right corner," Andrew finished, drawing looks from everyone in the room. Neil grinned. Andrew returned Kevin's searching gaze until the taller boy backed down.

"Well, if two of you say that, it must be accurate," Kevin muttered. He turned back to Gansey. "What other observations have you made?"

The team collectively groaned, but Kevin was fortunately silenced by the timely arrival of Wymack. "Nice to see you all again. Anybody dead yet?" He looked around the room and eyed Andrew a bit. "Have a seat, everyone." Everyone resumed their former seats. Blue shoved Gansey onto the couch and sat on his lap, turning sideways to put her feet up on Ronan's lap. He promptly pushed her feet onto the floor again. "Alright, let's keep it this way. Foxes, this is Adam Parrish, Ronan Lynch, Blue Sargent, and Richard Gansey the Third."

"Just Gansey, please."

"Just Gansey it is. Did y'all introduce yourselves?" The team gave a chorus of yes, coach. "You all know how the schedule works, and there are no surprises this year. We have practices at 8 am for the next few weeks before school starts. Any more questions? No? Good. You know the drill: physicals and paperwork tonight, practice tomorrow morning." He handed a stack of papers to Dan, who proceeded to pass them out. "Practice tomorrow is at the gym. Do not come here, go to the gym. If you miss practice because you came here, I will kick your ass into next week. That includes you, Freshmen."

The door opened and a very nice looking woman entered. "I see you all survived the summer." She smiled at Blue. "I'm Abby, the team nurse."

"She will be doing the physicals tonight," Wymack said. "You four freshmen are new, so you're up first." He addressed the whole room again. "Don't leave without seeing Abby tonight or you will not get to play this season. Does everyone understand?" He was answered with a chorus of yes, coach. "Good. Who is first?"

Blue got up, since she was on top of Gansey anyway. "I'll be first. Adam, don't let Lynch here pick any fights."

"Shut up, maggot," he replied as she slammed the door behind her and followed Abby down the hall.

*********

Once the freshmen had done their physicals and left for Fox Tower, Nicky turned the conversation to the new people. "So," he began, leaning back on the couch, "Who wants to bet that Adam kid is gay?"

"No way," Allison said. "He was totally checking me out. My money is on straight."

"He could be bi," Renee offered.

"I'll take those odds," Nicky said. "Also, I want to bet that the girl and the history boy are dating."

"Bet pool is closed," Dan said. "Blue already confirmed they are."

"Pity," Allison said. "He's cute." Renee raised an eyebrow. "Hey, I was just looking."

Aaron groaned. "At least I'm not the only straight person on this team anymore."

"What am I, chopped liver?" Dan joked. Aaron rolled his eyes to the sound of laughter from around the room.

"Twenty bucks that Lynch is gay," Andrew said suddenly. Renee matched it, and then others took sides on the pot.

"Time for the big question," Matt said. "How long do we think it will take any of them to figure out Andrew and Neil?"

Bets flew in from around the room. "All year!" (Nicky) "3 months!" (Allison and Kevin) "Christmas!" (Dan) "Spring break!" (Matt and Aaron)

"Two weeks or less," Renee said, smiling sweetly.

[gold-from-straw]

Divergence - ch10

I've been planning to add the second half of this chapter for a long time (only just managed it now, hence the late upload lol! it's still officially Friday where I am!) But a conversation with @interplanetarygirl really helped to get me into Francis' mindset for the realisation he has (similar to Charles' realisation about his own past a couple of chapters ago) so THANK YOU!! 

Read from the beginning on Ao3 if you like!

“Good!” said Erik. “Twenty more.”

Francis slumped, breathless, and Erik tugged him up sharply by the eyelets on his boxing gloves. “You need stamina,” Erik said. His voice was sharp and hard, but Francis could feel the steady hum of affection underneath that made Francis feel safe, the way he never had even with the honeyed words of Father’s friends and colleagues.

He was also devastatingly attractive for an older man. Francis set his teeth and threw punch after punch at the bag until it swayed and jerked.

“Well done,” Erik said, when he’d counted down from twenty. He beckoned and started unlacing Francis’ gloves. “Flex your hands. Fine. Looks good. Go and have a shower and tell me if they start hurting or anything - you want to get stronger, not damage yourself. Tomorrow we’ll do some more on reactions and sparring.”

The sense of satisfaction and pride from Erik that Francis was basking in suddenly flared into something almost overwhelming, bone-deep and infinite, when Erik looked past Francis to the doorway. There was nothing more than a faint smile to betray the love pouring off him.

“Charles,” said Erik. “Finally decided to take me up on my offer of training, have you?”

Charles smiled. “Only if you’re prepared to be beaten at your own game.”

Erik laughed and threw Francis’ gloves at Charles and walked towards him. Francis was all but forgotten as Erik started to lace Charles up.

Charles had much better shields than Erik, of course. But even so, as Erik brushed his thumbs over Charles’ wrist, Francis caught the blast of emotion from Charles, a flash of intense love, a connection that bound the two men together.

Francis turned away, half envious, half embarrassed. He wondered, for the first time, about the Erik Lehnsherr back in his own universe, whether it was possibly for someone to love him as much as this Erik and Charles loved each other.

He was lost in thought on the walk back, so almost didn’t notice Arthur. “Hi, Francis,” he said quietly.

Francis jumped and blinked at his younger self, sitting like a pixie on a stone window seat. “Hi,” he said cautiously. “Are you OK?”

Arthur nodded, his chin still pressed against his knees.

Francis licked his lips. He had no idea how to deal with children, but he could feel the vague, cautious tendrils leaking out from the little boy. “Did Charles block your telepathy off?” he asked.

Arthur nodded. “He’s been teaching me how to build my shields myself, but I’m not good enough to do it on my own yet.” He looked down, twisting his lips.

“Well, that’s OK,” Francis said quickly. He had a sudden vivid memory of sitting outside his father’s room for hours, kicking his heels and singing quietly, hoping for even the smallest scrap of attention. “Hey… I’ve got to have a shower, but do you want to do some drawing afterwards, or something?”

“Really?” said Arthur, hope sparkling through his emotions.

“Sure,” Francis smiled. “Come on, you can wait in my room until I’m ready.”

Arthur scrambled down from his perch and practically skipped along beside Francis. He smiled down at him, amused and suddenly quite aware that he was feeling the same warmth he got when Raven asked him a question, or followed him, or flopped onto the seat next to him and snuggled up.

Raven, he thought, the warmth fading. What would she be doing right now? What would she do without him there?

Not that Raven couldn’t take care of herself – she’d been doing so for years before he met her, but she shouldn’t have to! That was the point! Francis loved looking after her… if he was honest with himself, it gave him purpose, and now…

He glanced down at Arthur, who smiled up at him, open and hopeful and still trusting. That trust hadn’t quite been beaten out of him yet.

But it wouldn’t be this time, would it? He was surrounded by people who actually cared about him, and who wanted to look after him.

He closed the bathroom door behind him, leaving Arthur in his room, and poked at the fading bruises on his ribs. All these people… they wanted to look after Francis, too, he could tell even without reading their minds. But it didn’t feel right when he imagined himself coddled and cared for and protected – that was his job. He was the protector. He was the one who took the punches and worked out how to hide Raven’s mutation and what lies to tell to people who asked too many questions or pushed himself to get the data his father had wanted.

He wasn’t a kid any more, after all, not like Arthur.

But then… he wasn’t an adult either, not like Charles.

He showered quickly, trying not to think of Raven and the life he’d left behind. Did he want to go back there, getting punched every time he moved wrong, every time he said something annoying? Of course not! But… wasn’t it the right thing to do?

He didn’t have the answer by the time he came out of the steaming bathroom, drying his hair roughly on a towel. Arthur was sitting on the very edge of his bed, completely still and formal, and Francis stopped, his throat suddenly aching. He remembered doing the same in his mother’s room, hoping that maybe this time he’d be good enough and neat enough and perfect and well-behaved enough to gain her affection – even just her attention.

He pushed it away, folded it up in a box like those he’d glimpsed from time to time in Erik’s mind. Put it aside and didn’t let himself think too hard as he walked over to Arthur and ruffled his hair. “What do you want to draw first, then?”

Arthur’s face split into a brilliant smile. “I’ve been thinking about that! I want to draw everyone. I want to draw you and me and Charles first, and then Erik and Moira and Alex. And Sean and me together making tacos! And Raven and Hank and then maybe I’ll draw another picture of Alex shooting those lights out of his chest and you fighting with Erik.”

He sucked in a breath suddenly, as if he’d forgotten that was a thing a person has to do in between sentences, and Francis laughed. “Well, we’d better get busy then, hadn’t we? I’m afraid I don’t have any colours, but there’s plenty of paper in a drawer over here, and pens and pencils too. Why don’t you get started while I get dressed?”

Arthur nodded and slipped off the bed, finding his supplies and kneeling on the chair to get a good view of his paper as he bent over it and started to draw big circle heads. Francis took his pieces of paper over to the window seat and crossed his legs, propping the paper on a textbook he’d found gathering dust under the bed.

“Francis,” said Arthur, still looking at his drawing. “Do you remember being me?”

Francis put his doodle to one side and leaned back. “Yes, I suppose. Some parts of it more than others, of course, but yes.”

“So I’m really going to turn into you?”

Francis considered this for a moment. “Partly? But remember you’re in a different world now. You’ll grow up differently – our timelines have diverged, I suppose.”

Arthur bit his lip and hesitated, then put his pen down. He still didn’t look at Francis. “Can you tell me…”

Francis waited a moment, but Arthur seemed to be struggling for words. “What’s on your mind?” he asked. “Would you like me to look?”

He slumped slightly and nodded. “Yes please.”

Francis lifted his fingertips to his temple and slipped into Arthur’s thoughts much easier than any other mind he’d ever been into. It was still like flowing downstream, like two water droplets merging, though now he had to move a little more deliberately, take a certain path, since Charles had built walls around him to block out noise.

He saw himself in Arthur’s mind, his eye swollen shut like it had been the day they both arrived, and arranged around him in every direction was every fear Arthur had about it, ever possible way he thought Francis had misbehaved to earn the punch.

“You want to avoid being hurt,” Francis said, and swallowed hard.

Arthur nodded and bit his lip. “Please?”

He laughed dryly. “I’m not very good at it, as you can tell.” Arthur’s face dropped, and Francis frowned, hurrying to reassure him. “But I’m sure you’ll be fine here – none of them seem the type to hit a child.”

“Yes, but I’ll be grown up soon, and then if I do something wrong they might hit me too. What did you do to get hit?”

Francis thought back and tried to stop himself flinching from the memories. “This time… I can’t quite… oh yes! I’d worn a hole in one of my shoes, that was it.”

Arthur cocked his head. “Don’t you have much money anymore?”

“No, it’s not like that, it’s… well, Kurt Marko – he’s the man who married Mother after Father died – he’s…” A bastard. “He doesn’t like spending money on me. He says I waste it.” He snorted to himself. He knew very well what Marko thought good use of the money would be. He also knew how frustrated he was that Francis’ mother wasn’t hurrying up and dying of liver failure from all the drinking. Francis stared out of the window, his mood darkening.

“So… I shouldn’t ask for things, and then I’ll be safe?”

Francis frowned and turned back to Arthur, swinging his feet down off the seat and leaning forward. “No, that’s not…”

He had a thought in that moment, a mental image of Kurt grabbing Arthur and throwing him into the wall. Only it wasn’t just a thought, it was a memory. Francis had only been eight, still grieving his father, still hoping that this new man in his life would care for him in some way, and Kurt had picked him up by his arm and thrown him. He couldn't even remember why.

Francis saw that happening to Arthur.

“Listen,” he said, holding Arthur’s gaze very seriously. “Anyone who hits you is wrong and bad. They don’t do it for any good reason, there’s nothing you can do or change about yourself that will keep you safe because it’s not your fault, you hear? It’s them. It’s anyone who wants to hurt you.”

“But…”

“You’ve got to let Charles take care of you. And Erik, and Sean and… probably everyone in this house, I think. But you have to hold onto that, Arthur. Anyone who hurts you is doing something very bad.”

Arthur nodded his head, uncertainty clear in his mind and his body language. Francis sighed and walked over to him, holding out his arms for a hug. Arthur snuggled in, his head just up to Francis’ ribs.

He’d been that small once. He’d wondered what he’d done wrong, and it had never been him at all.

For the first time, Francis considered going back to his own universe angry.

Tagging everyone who interacted with the last chapter! (also the permanent tag list of @insertmeaningfulusername, @mathmusicreading and @kungpao-giffy!) @vivavelle, @gerec, @kernezelda, @xcziel, @thechaoticwave, @paramecie, @goneadrift, @hufflehappenings, @kyotoagnes, @these-maginot-lines, @lyricfulloflight, @librodice, @unspokenhatred, @fullmetalcarer, @fxngsfogxarty (I’m sorry I didn’t reply to your message!! Thank you so much!!), @bugy-boo, @tteabea, @mnemo-ink, @deathzpells, @azulso, @dorianpink, @rainbow-door, @ketchavies-thoorrrr666, @kaeden4, @mykarush, @auri-moon, @thepaintingsafake, @ikeracity, @youurelovely, @pahisluuseri, @iwillshipyouman, @pumpkinspicedshane, @i-have-drowned-in-books

[laputaindefrenchgirl]

Goodbye, old friends.

Recently, I realized one thing : x-men (circa 2011-2019) was actually the Twilight of my twenties. One of those phenomena, which whirlwinds your soul, intellect and passion into a pivotal period of your life. In my case, my early twenties.

But, I’ll go back to the beginning : the x-men anime series in 1990s. I remember watching episodes in the morning, every wednesday, and first thing first, being fascinated by Professor X. Imagine! A leader living with a disability, bald yet still cool, with the most badass wheelchair known to humanity, and with one of the greatest super power ever. I was around five years old when I was watching, and completely hooked by this fantastic, well written, universe. As early as I can recall, Charles Xavier’s character gave me a sense of belonging, and safety (besides my family). This was someway proof that you can be unique, different, and right where you were supposed to be. 

The seeds were taking in my brain.

Then, x-men First Class came out in 2011 and this was a brutal slap to my big head. I’ll go with “Mutant and Proud” first. This mantra, repeated through the movie was exactly what I needed to hear. I always had and always will love myself, but to be proud of me has a total different meaning. I was nineteen, still a baby, and about to go through one of the toughest experience of my life, moral harassment in my college. This movie had an emotional impact on my vision of the world and myself. 

The world is mine to take, and I have to bloom in order to conquer it.

My perception of myself was at the same time accurate and yet sugar coated, nowadays for example it’s much more blurred but I guess it’s what adulting does to you. Charles Xavier, once again, embodied massively a part of me I could not ignore. And Erik, god, I was thinking he’s right too. But the biggest part of me was relating to Charles, for the following reasons. He knows he’s different, went through some abuse, and yet, he wants to make the world a better place. He believes in Humanity. He knows they can be the worst and the best. Having all this power, who could crush anyone, and not using it. He’s a good speaker (so am I, in my good days) and use his tools to make things happen, being subtle and sometimes not so. He’s still shielded from the dark things due to where he was born, and good money. He’s naive in that way, and kind of arrogant in believing, simply. He’s the believer. And that makes him one of the greatest, brightest, and powerful mutant in history.

He has this extraordinary friendship with Erik, and believes in him as his total equal. The way he opens up to him, gives him his trust (so does Erik tho), is extremely well depicted and human. As I was watching First Class, I was amazed that such friendship could exist (and dude, let’s not talk about the bromance). When the bullet went through Charles’ spine by accident, the way that suddenly he realizes he and Erik cannot draw their path, together. That’s so accurate to many, many life’s situations. You go until the point of non retour. When you trust someone with your entire self but hit the end, stop sign, and know you can’t keep going like that. I wonder what would have happen if they did not break up (call it what you want) in Cuba? Would have they have been able to compromise? 

If I was Charles, I would not have been able to. Maybe blinded by my bruised ego, brokenhearted, or simply hurt. Because once I dive in, I know I could drown if I make a mistake. That’s real life.

In Days of Future Past, the struggle is real. that scene in the plane, well, it questions lots of things. Magneto does not (want to?) comprehend that Charles gave up his powers in order to not feel pain, and be able to walk again. He’s so angry with Charles, calls him a coward for giving up, for not believing. Charles, well, he’s a mess. And he did really try but eventually, (he) it wasn’t enough. He was still grieving over the abandonment of his best friend and his sister. Being alone is terrifying. And of course, he’s angry too. This scene was super intense and well done because, let’s be honest, who wouldn’t for a minute mute your own pain in order to pretend? Charles is both despised for being a naive asshole, too kind hearted, and then for being a man who could not accept to be less physically than he was before the bullet. He loses hope, and again, that’s a very human thing to do. I loved this dynamic, because it made me wonder, wouldn’t i have done the same thing when I hated myself the most?

Throw away my wheelchair, disability, in order to be normal and not be looked as some kind of weird thing, in the best and worst ways. 

Eventually, Charles finds his faith, his hope again and is that leader, that light everyone crave and look after. There’s the ultimate question, layered under lots of FX and plots ; if you represent hope for the world, who are you hoping for?

To be that person is so hard to carry. Somedays, I feel that curse. I take out of it what’s best for me, and just try to be the best version of myself I can be. If not for me, then for you, and what will be there long after me. Such a selfish aura to be light but selfless to live for. Very strange to be.

Then Apocalypse, then Dark Phoenix, which is the last movie of the franchise with this excellent cast. I mean, seriously, x-men could not have had a better casting, especially Fassbender and McAvoy. Period.

In Dark Phoenix, Erik is settled in Genosha, and Charles being a tad too political in the lead of the x-men as a school and also an unity to save the world. He thinks his choices are the good ones, and some he takes by the beginning of the movie are clearly not. But he’s Charles Xavier, and he’s build an incredible school and done an amazing conversation between the public opinion and the mutants. So yes he’s been blinded by his ego, but always trying to what is best for his people, his family. Through the movie, his relationship with the others x-men has a change of dynamic to say the least, and in my opinion, Beast reaction towards Charles was extremely violent, like he took his grieve on him for all the fucking wrong reasons.

As I was watching DP, I related to Charles once again. I went through a complicated phase as recently. I’m basically, Audrey, the strong headed young woman who’s successful on what she goes for. Spoiler, I do not do everything perfectly, and am a mess on my days. But as Charles, I have this light, and people find hope in me, and I give them my best vibes and try as harder as I can. And for one thing I did, which wasn’t supported by people close to me, they tore me down as if my whole twenty six years of being who I am didn’t matter. It broke my heart. Just like Charles, I tried to make up, repair what I did supposedly wrong, but they didn’t care. For months, I lived through a very complicated situation where I was isolated and not supported, which was hurtful, lonely, hard to live through (end of the depressive note).

What I liked though, was the open ending of DP. Charles and Erik someway reunited (in a french café, so cliché ughh) and Erik’s the only one who’s saying, let me be there for you. Who knows, maybe Charles isolated himself by the end of movie because he couldn’t live with the guilt? Or maybe Beast and the others x-men didn’t forgive him? In both case, here again, that’s something I would totally do. It’s a silent scream. I’m too demanding, both to others and myself. Charles is both powerful and physically dependant to others. A strange but knowing combo, ready to explode anytime soon. I can tell ‘cause I’m pretty much the first to guilt-trip myself when I realize I did a wrong. The way Charles can’t seem to forgive himself when he gave away so much, is to me, very realistic.

As a kid, I dreamt by night that I had a superpower. I never truly defined which one, it wasn’t really about flying or becoming invisible. The more I grew, the more my love for life was growing, even through the bad days and the hurt, I had hope brighter days were ahead, still do. My power is to try to do my best when I know I also could do the worst. Too powerful to be loved rightfully, too weak to be the good person I should be.

I would finish this by saying x-men taught me to be kinder towards myself. To always try to reach potential, as an artist, a woman living with a disability, but most of all as a human. I will probably live most of my life feeling like a misfit, looked upon as a strange creature but knowing that, someday, things will change and people who are gifted to be different will be treated with equal respect.

Mutant and Proud. thank you so fucking much.

#audreytheartiste

[lady-charinette]

A Clawful Plan & A Pawssibly Good Day (Chapter 10) - Dinner for Two Marichat Fic

A Clawful Plan & A Pawssibly Good Day

Plagg quietly sipped at his coffee the next morning, idly watching Pierre set down the chairs for the morning hours when the restaurant would open for business.

His voice seemed loud in the emptiness of the large space and the lack of the usual talk of the crowd and bustling kitchen, “Did Adrien say when he would be back today?”

The chair scraped slightly against the floor and Pierre pushed it under the table neatly, a sigh escaping him, “He said to expect him just before-“

The doors opened as if on cue and the blond himself walked in, hoodie pulled down deeper to cover his face, hair messy, “Hello Pierre, Plagg.” Adrien moved the protective cover of the hoodie away from his face, smiling tiredly at his friends, “I’m sorry for being late, had late night shoots yesterday and an exam earlier this morning.” He didn’t have any eyebags, he couldn’t allow himself to, being a model, but Plagg could definitely see the exhaustion in that green stare.

“Why don’t ya take the day off? It’s a Wednesday.” Wednesdays were reserved for Adrien to freely study for university if his schedules called for it, like upcoming exams or catching up with lost lectures or attend events his father forced him to go to.

Adrien rubbed his chin, resting his hand on his hip and Plagg snickered at the model pose, “Wednesdays are always so full of customers, are you guys going to be alright?” he scratched the back of his head, a sign he was uncomfortable with ditching work.

Pierre offered a kind smile, “Of course, you don’t have to worry at all Adrien. Just make sure to keep up with your studies and don’t forget to rest too.”

Adrien smiled at the elder man, bowing slightly in gratitude, “Thank you Pierre.” He looked at Plagg, who was watching him curiously, “Plagg, don’t trash the VA room again, please.”

The dark-haired man rolled his eyes playfully, “Yeah, yeah, mom don’t worry. Now shoo and go before I change my mind and sit your ass down here.” Plagg was about to take a sip of his coffee before an arm planted itself around his shoulders abruptly and a hand roughly ruffled his already messy raven hair.

“Thanks Plagg, Pierre! You guys are the best!” with a smile to Pierre, the blond raced out of the restaurant, leather bag filled with today’s lecture papers.

Pierre chuckled at the dark, murderous frown on Plagg’s face, “Shut it old man.”

Pierre’s expression changed drastically, a brief flicker of something more sinister shining in those old, brown eyes, “Excuse me, Plagg?”

The raven haired man stiffened, “A-Apologies sir!”

The old butler nodded approvingly, his usual friendly disposition in place and Plagg sighed in relief, sagging further into his seat, muttering about secret demon butlers and pesky blonds.

His phone vibrated with a new message and he lazily took it out, quickly typing in the password and opening the messages.

They were from Tikki.

‘Good morning stinky sock! I hope the cheese cake I made you yesterday was alright. Have a nice day at work, catch you for lunch tomcat!’

A heartwarming smile softened his normally sharp features, Pierre discreetly watching the man’s lips transform into a gentle smile as he typed a reply.

‘Morning, sugar cube. Of course it was, it was purrfect. Don’t overwork yourself either today, I’ll wait for you with lunch outside the shop.’

Adding a silly emoji at the end, Plagg sent his message taking another sip of his coffee.

For some reason, it tasted sweeter.

------------

Marinette stubbed her toe against the desk, cursing under her breath and Nathaniel paused in his sketch to look over his shoulder curiously, a sympathetic smile on his lips, “You okay?”

The dark haired woman sighed, slumping back onto her chair, “Fine…”

Nathaniel set his pencil down and turned towards his friend completely, “Sure? You don’t look that fine to me. When did you go to sleep?” he had always had an eye for detail, ever since his childhood days where he first began to draw every day. It also meant he nearly always picked up on miniscule details other people failed to notice.

As often as Marinette wore very little to no make-up, today she had applied a thicker layer under her eyes, which blended into her skin tone to hide the dark eyebags.

Marinette should’ve known Nathaniel knew better, she gingerly touched the smooth skin beneath her eye, “That obvious?” she offered a tired smile and Nathaniel shook his head.

“To me, yes, but not to others.” His small smile stretched into a concerned frown, “Seriously, what’s up? You’ve been on edge lately. We made the deal with that model and the fashion event is only a few days away, I would be relaxed in your stead.” The red-head crossed his arms, carefully observing the woman before him who wrung her hands in her lap nervously before her.

A drawn out sigh and a groan followed her next words, “I know but-! Argh!” she threw her hands in the air, standing up and pacing back and forth in a line, hands gesticulating wildly, “Have you ever met a person you thought was really funny and kind and interesting but like, you don’t know them all too well and you suddenly see a different side to them that you didn’t expect and you don’t like that side of them and you feel really helpless and frustrated?!” Marinette still continued to pace before hands clasped onto her shoulders and Nathaniel gently grabbed her attention by turning her towards him.

“Hey, easy, stop trying to walk holes into our floor.” Nathaniel soothingly squeezed her shoulders again, “I…I guess I can relate to what you’re saying Marinette.” The surprised look she gave him made the professor chuckle, “Remember Chloe? I used to have a bit of a crush on her in primary school, until she started with that bullying anyway. That went away pretty fast. I mean, I don’t really think it’s the same as your situation, but I can relate with the liking someone and not liking certain aspects of them thing. It’s natural.” He shrugged, noticing her calming down slowly, “…Want some coffee?”

Slumping her shoulders, Marinette nodded and Nathaniel led her toward the kitchen, setting up fresh coffee while Marinette slowly started talking about the restaurant she frequented in her breaks.

Once both steaming coffee mugs were in front of them, along with a cookie plate inbetween, did Nathaniel stare at the woman in bewilderment, “W-Wait…you…you’re saying there’s…a toy?” Nathaniel still tried to wrap his head around the quick explanation Marinette had given him, about her recent behavior, her extended breaks, everything. “And…there’s a guy voicing that toy and you…started liking him?” Nathaniel rubbed at his chest, feeling a stinging sensation there, but he tried to curb it.

Marinette, pink faced, slowly nodded, “I mean, maybe ‘liking’ is a bit strong, I mean, he’s really nice and funny! I like his puns! And he keeps me company while I eat, he’s easy to talk to and get along with and well, I don’t know! I l-like his voice okay!?” Marinette slapped her hands to her face, the tips of her ears a beet red and Nathaniel burst into laughter at her shy reaction, “S-Stop laughing! I’ll demote you!” the threat was empty, but it sounded adorable coming from her red face.

Nathaniel coughed a few times, trying to hold in the chuckles trying to come out, before he took a sip of his coffee and it finally died down, “So…you like his voice, huh?” Nathaniel adjusted the collar of his shirt, feeling slight embarrassment bubbling within his own chest at how cute Marinette reacted.

“Ugh, Nath!” Marinette looked ready to spontaneously combust or throw something at him, “It’s-I-I mean- it’s not like I-“ she backtracked, eyes blown wide, elbows planted on the table and hiding her eyes, “Uhm…I…actually did see him.”

The professor’s eyes flew open, leaning forward over the table, “Wait, what? You did? When? How comes you didn’t tell me?” he tried pinpointing when it could’ve possibly been, maybe the time she visited him? But that meant she saw him on campus and that was highly impo-

“I-I met him after your lectures…I kinda bumped into him in the hallway…”

Nathaniel choked.

“What does he look like? What’s his name?” alright, maybe Nathaniel was getting too excited to know this guy, but he definitely wanted the best for her, even if it meant throwing his own infatuation out of the window.

He tried ignoring the prickly, painful sensations in his heart.

“H-His name’s Erik, he’s a bit taller than me, messy dark hair, he likes to joke around and um, he teaches art psychology or uh, art therapy in your university.”

Nathaniel’s body froze and his blood ran cold.

Images conjured up in his mind.

Memories of the past two years of him working as a professor to be exact.

And him.

‘Yo, Kurtzberg, playing with colors again? You’ve got something there on your cheek.’

‘Hey tomato-head, cooped up alone in that room, doesn’t that drive you up the wall? Go out and have some fun, maybe you’ll get some friends along the way!’

“Nathaniel?” Marinette rose an eyebrow at the vacant stare he seemed to have set on a fixed point on the table and she waved her hand.

‘Heh, this looks like a bird shit on it, if I have to guess what’s on your mind, I think the answer stays the same dontcha think?’

‘Most artists only dream of being able to tell what art truly means like us therapists, it’s a shame you chose the weaker craft of the two.’

“Nathaniel? Hey! Earth to Nathaniel!” the man jumped, as if ripped from his own thoughts, wide eyes looking at her.

“Uh, s-sorry, I-uh, got lost in thoughts.” He scratched his head, ruffling his already messy hair.

Marinette noticed the familiar almost haunted look in his eyes, it reminded her of her younger days when she used to be bullied in school. Her hand reached across the table and settled lightly over his fist, “Does he treat you badly at work?”

She had a hunch, but she couldn’t picture it. It didn’t fit together, the picture she had of Chat Noir when she was in the restaurant and when she met him at campus.

Maybe she was wrong, after all.

Nathaniel smiled weakly, “Don’t worry, I tell him off politely whenever he tries to act all alpha male on me. I’ve learned a thing or two following high school.” He winked reassuringly, and patted Marinette’s hand closed over his fist, “It’s just, I always had bad vibes about him, before he started being a jerk to me. He just spells trouble.” He noticed the conflicted look on her face, “But don’t let my personal judgement influence your own, if you say he acts differently in the restaurant, maybe the jerk behavior is just an act? Maybe it’s just me.”

At that, Marinette immediately shook her head, “No! Don’t think that for a second! I don’t know what it is but I’ll find out, he can’t treat any of my friends that way if…if I really do end up liking him that much.” She looked unsure of herself and Nathaniel hated seeing her like that.

He squeezed her hand reassuringly, “I wouldn’t worry too much Marinette, if he likes you, he will realize what a mistake it is in letting you go.”

Marinette flushed, smiling warmly at him, “Thanks Nath, I can always count on you to cheer me up when I need it.” She grinned awkwardly, “Well, except Alya as your female counterpart.”

Nathaniel smiled.

-----------

Adrien almost groaned in bliss at the explosion in his mouth, the delicious pastry from the bakery he grabbed on the way felt like the first taste of heaven after enduring weeks of hell.

He was on his way to catch up on his studies at Nino’s place, before getting ready for the fashion event later this afternoon, he had enough time to pour over the new materials his professor gave him before he had to drive towards the address for the fashion event, of course hosted by Agreste Fashion, with a model wearing a dress made a growing designer. He hadn’t caught the designer’s name, but according to conversations he overheard, the designer must be good at their craft with decent production time.

He hoped to get breaks in-between, he hadn’t eaten much except for the pastry and a small breakfast in the morning before the exam. He bet Nino had some leftovers from yesterday, maybe even something edible in the fridge.

Nino was a surprisingly good cook, courtesy of Nora who loved and treated him like he was her very own little brother since his and Alya’s high school days. Nino mentioned Nora being a bit of a tough nut, instead of showering him with affection, she usually showered him with ��tough love’ when she visited, whatever that meant.

Adrien smiled when he spotted the building Nino’s apartment was in, he also remembered the very stunned look the DJ gave him when he humbly asked to temporarily share living quarters.

‘Sure dude, you know you’re always welcome, but what happened? Did you lose your apartment? Did your dad piss you off?’

As probable as the last possibility was, Adrien had explained what the true reason was, his apartment was empty.

Not furniture-wise.

It lacked warmth.

It lacked everything a room with people living in it should have, warmth, personal belongings, trinkets that were useless or not that pretty but were still held dear.

Trivial things that made his father scrunch his nose.

Trivial things that made Adrien smile because they reminded him of his mother, when she would take little trinkets and souvenirs from places she would visit for her roles and bring back with her.

Adrien himself didn’t have much, not many personal things, the things he recently got that were closer to his heart were pictures of him and Nino. Those were already in his apartment, one in a frame, the other clipped to a piece of string he remembered seeing in Nino’s house all those years ago, when they were still teens. It inspired him to do something similar, it felt so personal, so real.

For now, only Nino’s picture hung there, they also made a few pictures with Alya at the club as a memory, those would come there too.

Adrien hoped many more would come. Maybe even some with a certain dark haired woman with bluebell eyes.

He took out the spare keys Nino gave him, quickly unlocking the front door and jogging up the stairs before finding the door to Nino’s apartment already unlocked.

Was Nino home?

Adrien pushed the door open, stepping in and setting the keys in a bowl near the doorway, taking his shoes off, “Nino?” he called out, already smelling something delicious wafting in from the kitchen.

“M’ here dude!” the boisterous voice of his friend called back and a small smile lit Adrien’s entire face as he made his way towards the kitchen.

The rooms were small, but enough for one, or two to comfortably live in.

Nino was sitting at the kitchen table, steaming plate in front of him, fork rolling around in the sea of noodles, vegetables and sauce, “Hey man, grab a plate and join me, you haven’t eaten anything much, right?”

The blond snorted softly, shaking his head as he fixed himself a plate and glass of water, “It’s scary how well you know me after all those years.”

The DJ grinned boyishly, gently punching his friend in the shoulder, “Once a model, always a model, huh?”

Adrien chuckled, “Once a friend, always a friend.” Nino’s teasing expression softened, and he nodded immediately, both men chuckling.

“I thought you were in the studio practicing for that gig you were hired for?” Adrien had to admit, even if Nino was nowhere near Marlena’s caliber of cooking, the food was still good.

He wolfed down the veggies and noodles when Nino started talking, “I was, in the morning though. It’s already two in the afternoon, don’t tell me you forgot how to read the clock?”

Adrien rolled his eyes playfully, “I forgot the time, it flew by so fast after that exam, I was just rushing from one point to the next.” Nino spotted the leather bag set on the couch in the connected living room, frowning in concern.

“Aw man, you still gotta study, huh?”

The blond shrugged, swallowing down the noodles, “Yeah, but I should be done in no time. It’s not that much, besides I still need to get ready for that event today, so I’ll go over to my apartment to prepare. I think I’ll sleep there too, so don’t stay up late okay?”

Nino huffed, taking a big gulp of water, “Whatever you say, mom. Just drive safe and don’t drink too much, young man.” Nino imitated the voice of an old woman and both men, despite themselves, burst out laughing at their silly antics.

Adrien enjoyed these things.

Whenever he entered Nino’s apartment, it always reminded him of home, or the closest thing he could associate to it. It reminded him of their school days and strong friendship and what a good man Nino was.

The two men continued eating and chatting and laughing, even after half an hour went by, Adrien felt at ease, the papers in his bag temporarily forgotten, the fashion event forgotten.

All that mattered was the food, his friend, the atmosphere.

It smelled – it felt – like home.

-------------------

Erik strolled across campus leisurely, scanning his schedule for his next class, when he spotted the familiar sight of a certain dark haired woman in the distance.

A grin automatically stretched his lips and he waved to catch her attention, “Marinette! Hey!”

The woman jumped, surprised by the call before she relaxed upon noticing him and waving back.

Erik walked up to her and smiled down at her, “Hey, visiting tom-uh Nathaniel again?”

Marinette smiled, “Hey Erik. Yeah, I just wanted to go over a few things concerning work, I won’t be a bother for too long.” Erik looked around, that explained why she waited near his office too.

Erik planted his hands in his pockets, “I see. So, you don’t have some time today, huh?”

She flashed him an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry, I don’t. I have to help organize a fashion event and help dress the models.”

His interest peaked at the word ‘models’, “Models, huh? Mind if I watch?” the grin on his face was positively feral, but the look in Marinette’s eyes hardened to steel.

“Watch?” she rose an eyebrow and Erik backtracked quickly.

“You know, your work, how you work.” He cleared his throat, “Anyway, I may not make it actually, I have classes starting soon until late. See ya tomorrow, purrhaps?”

A smile made its way on the frown previously marring her pretty features and Marinette nodded, “Sure. Good luck on your lectures!”

“Yeah, you too!” he waved and moved towards the long stairs ahead.

Marinette sighed, rubbing her arm.

--------------

A few hours later…

Flashing lights, clicking heels and painted faces greeted Marinette as soon as she entered.

Paparazzi, bodyguards and models as far as the eye can see.

There were so many people.

She took a breath, before carrying her designs and bag with designing tools towards the changing areas. It didn’t take her long at all to spot a model, or several of them.

Most were doing their make-up, chatting or doing pep talks. Marinette couldn’t fault them for it, she would be a jittery, nervous mess if she would’ve even have to imagine stepping foot onto a catwalk, or anywhere where hundreds of eyes would be on her.

She wasn’t good in the spotlight.

After greeting and going over the minor details and major parts of the show, Marinette helped them put on the dresses she designed, feeling at the same time odd but comfortable, handling something that was hers, her very own work in her hands, and helping models put them on, adjusting things and offering advice.

It felt liberating but also frightening, like an otherworldly experience.

Marinette wasn’t new to fashion nor to handling fabrics or designs, but she was new to this; the spotlights, the flashing cameras, the crowded fashion galas with hundreds of models running up and down looking for their agents, bodyguards or organizers.

She smiled kindly when another model thanked her for her help in braiding her hair, it wasn’t part of the job, but she would help wherever she could if it meant easing the anxious looks on the young women’s faces.

She wasn’t much older than them and yet, she felt obligated to keep them as comfortable and relaxed as possible under these circumstances.

Some models were seasoned experts, doing breathing exercises or small, personal rituals. Some were tracing patterns on their hands to calm themselves, others were looking in the mirror and silently encouraging themselves, some were chatting with others while again others were drinking juices or water to distract them from the big event which would open any minute.

It was almost time to shine.

Marinette excused herself from the changing rooms, making sure the models were taken care of before she stepped out.

The large, luxurious ballroom was filled to the brim with people. Some were already sitting, looking like they belonged to the VIPs or high end people who would asses the event. Others in suits were chatting amongst themselves near the buffet, people with cameras were keeping a low profile and trying to discreetly take pictures without disturbing the guests too much.

Marinette was glad she had the pass around her neck, people would mistake her for some lost woman who accidentally stumbled into this fine establishment and not a semi-respected designer whose work was about to be put up on stage.

She took a deep, staggering breath, accepting a glass of orange juice from a waiter who was parading around with a plate full of champagne and orange juice glasses.

She gulped the liquid down in nearly one go, frayed nerves still breaking at the seams, but at least she was sure she was hydrated.

Marinette decided to mingle about the crowd, greeting a few other designers she’d met a handful of times, but otherwise keeping to herself.

Due to so many people, there wasn’t much room for individual people to really distance themselves from the crowd. It was inevitable to hear some private conversations.

Marinette pretended to enjoy the ambience while subtly listening in on any remotely interesting conversation topics.

She spotted a group of male models a few steps away, talking, some chuckling. Almost all of them had bathrobes on, they would obviously come up on stage later, after the female models were done with their performances.

As Marinette tried to slip past the group of males, back towards the changing rooms to check on her models, she nearly tripped over her own feet when a particular voice caught her attention.

She was sure she wasn’t imagining it, but when she turned around, there were several models talking, it was impossible to say which voice belonged to whom. There was a blond with green eyes, a brunet with blue eyes, several black haired guys with brown eyes.

But there was only one name that hit her like a lightning bolt when she heard a familiar voice sound from among the group.

Chat Noir?

Thanks for reading everyone! I hope you enjoyed it :3 By the way, is the plot advancing too fast?

[bilbos]

Would It Be Okay? || Erik Johnson

requested: yes || no

word count: 1.9k

author’s note: This is a pinch hitter gift for the @hockeynetwork‘s secret gift exchange! I wrote this fic for the lovely @babrielandeskog, I hope you like it! <3 The poem (everything in italics) is by Ryan Stiltz.

Would it be ok if I took some of your time? Would it be ok if I wrote you a rhyme?

It’s a Saturday night where you would much rather be in your apartment and relaxing, but your friends have insisted that it’ll do you some good to get out a little. This week wasn’t bad per say, but it just…wasn’t ideal. Things were off and you were hoping to have some time alone to just recalibrate and recenter yourself.

The house party that you’re at isn’t like the over-the-top ones that you went to in college, thankfully. Music is playing loud enough to allow for some form of privacy with conversations, but not loud enough for your head to hurt. As you scan the room to see where your friends went off to, a guy about your age catches your eye.

He’s not conventionally attractive, but there’s still something about him that draws you too him. Unfortunately, as your checking him out, he glances in your direction. Blushing, you look towards a different part of the room, hoping that one of your friends magically appears. Apparently, this is what you get for deciding to go get a drink on your own.

Thankfully, not more than a few moments later, you spot Jade, which means Elle and Sam aren’t too far behind. You make your way over there, but not without noticing Sam raising a questioning eyebrow.

“What was that?” you ask.

“You seemed a little distracted there,” Sam comments, nonchalantly. “Taking in the views?”

You snort. “Bold of you to assume anyone here is view worthy.”

“Staring at EJ would contradict that, y/n,” Sam retorts.

“EJ?” you ask.

“The dude you were staring at,” Jade answers. “He plays for the Av’s.”

“The…hockey team?” you say, hesitant.

Elle sighs. “We’re getting there. But yes, the hockey team.”

“Well, I’ll just gladly appreciate from far away then,” you reply.

Jade glances over your shoulder for a brief moment. “Not for long.”

“Uh, hey there,” a voice behind you says.

You can tell the girls are trying hard to not laugh as you turn around, pasting a smile on your face. “Um, hi.”

“Do you ladies mind if I talk to your friend for a moment?” the guy, EJ, asks.

“Sure, but we’re going to keep an eye on you. No shady shit,” Elle answers.

EJ raises his hands. “No shady shit, I promise.”

The girls head over to another part of the room, but make sure to keep you in their line of sight. As much as they may joke around about things, you all take each other’s safety extremely seriously. There are too many stories of things gone wrong, and you appreciate their care so much.

“So, uh, what brings you here?” you inquire, awkwardly.

“Just…you were checking me out earlier and I just thought I’d come say hi,” EJ says, a tad awkward as well.

You laugh. “Well, hello then. I’m y/n.”

“I’m EJ,” he replies. “So, what do you do? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Well…”

Would it be ok if I opened my heart? Would it be ok if I took on the part of being your man

 It’s been three years since you’ve met EJ, and as weird as he can be sometimes, you definitely don’t regret it. He’s become on of your favorite people in Colorado and has settled into your friend group better than you could have ever hoped for. Knowing that he’s put in effort to get to know them means the world to you.

Currently, it’s a Sunday afternoon where the two of you are lounging in his living room, just catching up with each other. You’re laughing at some dumb joke he’s made when you catch him looking at you a little bit different.

“You doing okay there, EJ?” you ask.

He nods. “Yeah, I just don’t know if it’s the right time for that conversation.”

“Dude, we’ve known each other for three years and have extremely weird conversations. Just tell me what’s on your mind, okay?”

EJ nods and glances away for a moment, looking like he’s trying to find the right words. This is a bit uncharacteristic of him, so you make sure to really listen to what he’s going to tell you.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable and I don’t want to ruin what we have, but I think I might be falling in love with you, y/n. For a while now,” EJ says softly.

“Oh,” you whisper.

It’s not like you haven’t been hoping. Because you have been. But for as much as you love EJ, you also realize that you’re not the typical hockey girlfriend. Being plus-size has never deterred you in any sense, but you also recognize the reality of it as well.

“Is…that a good reaction?” EJ asks, hesitant.

“Yeah, EJ, that is a good reaction,” you answer, laughing softly.

“Well, then, I guess it wouldn’t be told bold of me to ask you to be my girlfriend,” he comments, a bit smugly.

“No, it wouldn’t,” you reply. “I’d be more than happy to be your girlfriend.”

Would it be ok if I could make you smile? Would it be ok if I held you awhile?

 EJ holds you tightly. You both know that you’ve been missing your family and that you need to visit them for a while. But it doesn’t hurt any less knowing that you’ll be gone for almost three weeks. Your grandmother isn’t doing well and it’s important that you get as much time with her has possible.

“I’m going to miss you,” he whispers.

“I’ll miss you too, babe,” you reply. “But you have your new horse to hang out with. That’s basically the same thing, right?”

EJ snorts. “I don’t think I can cuddle a horse to sleep at night.”

“Oh, please, like you wouldn’t try,” you joke, stepping back a little. “You also have plenty of games. And I’m also sure the guys will be more than happy to come over and keep you company while I’m gone.”

EJ smiles sadly. “Call me when you can, okay? I’ll fly up there if you need it.”

“I…I think I’ll be fine,” you reply, choking back tears.

“You know I’ll do anything for you. I know I joke a lot, but anything for you,” EJ says.

You nod, hugging him again, knowing that it’ll probably make you late for your flight. He’s been a big support system lately, making you feel lighter, no matter the situation. It’ll be hard leaving him, but you know that he’ll always pick up the phone when you need it.

“It goes the same way,” you whisper. “And I’ll call you when I land.”

Would it be ok if I kissed your face?

Would it be alright to find a way?

 It’s a warm summer morning and the two of you are laying in bed. Yesterday was…hard to say the least. The two of you had your first serious fight and it was over something so stupid. Or not really. Your still not totally sure about it.

Last night, you weren’t feeling so great about your body, and while you’re normally able to just ignore it, the feeling just wouldn’t leave. You were also hanging out with some of the other wives and girlfriends, which didn’t help your mental state any.

EJ picked up that something was off right away. The two of you know each other too well at this point to not pick up on things like this. When you told him what was going on, he was obviously trying his best to make you feel better, but something about his statements just rubbed you the wrong way.

So here you are, just laying in bed, in total silence. Obviously, you want to talk about it, but you’re not even really sure how to bring it up. These are issues you’ve been having your whole life and you just don’t know how to explain to EJ that even though it’s not the best situation, you’ve learned how to deal with it in a way that’s healthy for you.

“I know sorry doesn’t cover it,” EJ whispers, breaking the silence. “I just get worried, you know?”

“I would have talked to you about it eventually. When I was ready to,” you reply. “I appreciate the sentiment, I really do. But sometimes I just need my space to deal with the problems first.”

“I get that. And I promise I’ll work on it,” EJ says.

You roll over and look at him, smiling. “I know you will. You always do. Now give me a good morning kiss.”

To tell you there's nothing I'd rather do Than spend my whole life loving only you...

 It’s been fairly quiet offseason so far. Which wouldn’t be too bad, except for the fact that you live with EJ now and having him be relaxed for so long is a little suspicious. But you know that if you bring it up, he’ll brush it off and explain it away in a way that probably makes a lot of sense. Maybe you could ask Tyson.

Before you forget, you send Tyson a text about it. He’s currently chilling with EJ, so you don’t expect a quick response. However, only a couple minutes later, you get a text saying, Nothing’s wrong. He’s 100% fine. I promise.

You sure about that? you reply.

….yes. everything will be fine.

Okay, ‘will’ be fine? I thought everything was fine.

Um. It is fine. Look, I promise nothing weird is going on.

You roll your eyes. Fine. It better be, Tys.

Tyson doesn’t reply after that, so you assume that EJ was finally demanding his attention again. A few hours later, EJ comes back and plops down on the couch with you. As much as you want to bring up your concerns, you have a feeling Tyson already talked to him about it.

“Tyson showed me your texts,” he whispered, kissing your next slightly.

“Oh,” you said. “That’s good, I guess.”

“Come with me upstairs,” he says mysteriously.

“That’s an odd way to ask me for sex,” you joke. “If you’re trying to be seductive, that’s a new take, babe.”

“I’m not trying, I promise. I just need to show you something.”

Sighing, you nod and follow him to your bedroom. He opens up the closet and grabs one of his hockey duffel bags. EJ then goes and opens the bag. You peer in, curious. Inside, there’s a bunch of random objects that you remember from some of your early dates, as well as some pictures from different events.

“What’s all this for?” you ask.

“Okay, so please let me explain first before you react,” EJ says.

“That’s…okay, sure,” you reply.

“So, I was planning on proposing to you in a really cute way, by like a scavenger hunt or something. I just knew I wanted to do something romantic because you deserve it,” EJ explains. “That’s why I have all of this stuff. I was planning on making it special. But when you texted Tyson, I knew that you were already so suspicious. And I couldn’t have prepared it all in time without caving.

“Now this is me telling you that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. There’s no one else I can imagine doing stupid shit with and who healthily enables my love for horses. So, y/n, will you marry me?”

EJ gets down on one knee and pulls the ring box from his pants. You start tearing up and nod.

“Yes, EJ, I’ll marry you.”

[erikismybitch]

Based off the Jill Scott interlude PT.2

You didn’t trip off what happened in the grocery store . But then it happened again, with another woman at the gym.

Then three more times after he posted the faceless pic of you and the “Erik” chain on his Instagram.

“Women sure are resourceful, like fucking spies when they want to be nosey ” you spoke sourly as you blocked yet another girl from your inbox. It was the most action your Instagram had seen in a long time . All this unwanted attention surrounding you brought back that old self conscious girl you’d hidden years ago.

“So, you gon keep me on pause the whole time? Maybe I should just end the FaceTime “ Erik said through the speaker of your iPhone .

“Sorry that I had to deal with one of your many hidden girlfriends” you went back to the FaceTime. Erik was sitting in his car on his work break . He mumbled lowly, knowing you couldn’t hear him. “Talking mess?” You asked with a lifted brow . The frustration was written all over his face , for the past week it had been a downhill battle between you and him.

“I was dealing with a lot of them girls back before you. But I didn’t feel the way about you that I do now “

“Is that supposed to be a compliment? “ you snapped . Eriks phone paused as you continued to rant . “I won the race and you were the prize?”

Eriks face came onto the phone screen again. He didnt say anything, he spent the past few days explaining himself . He never cheated , these were all women of the past . He was out of options and figured his best bet was to stay silent .

“I didn’t know you were THAT nigga”

“Please !” He finally spoke , twisting his face . “You got with me cause I was THAT nigga, don’t act new”

“Erik , I got with you cause you were you . I didn’t know it would come with all of this”

“Then break up with me then!” Erik shouted angrily and ended the FaceTime call . It scared you , not the tone of his voice but those words . You were angry with him and you weren’t sure what you wanted . Breaking up with him was not on your list .

Just as you were about to press the call back button, Erik sent you a text .

I’m sorry for yelling like that , I’ll pick you up later tonight for that party.

K.

You tossed the phone across your bed . Tiana and Devin were a married couple who hosted game nights at their hillside home . They were older and a couple that you admired. Tiana was an old co-worker of yours , she and Devin introduced you to Erik at their very own party. The two of you hadn’t seen them in a while and agreed to go tonight .

You listened as the postal worker slid the mail in your home door slot . You went to fetch the mail from the front . You scanned through it .

“Bills, bills, bills, Complex for Erik, and Cosmo for me”

You dropped everything except for the Cosmopolitan magazine. Ironically your current life story was on the cover in big bold letters

“So, you’re dating a ladies man pg 48 “.

“Yes, yes the hell I am” You eagerly opened the magazine to the article . Not even bothering to sit down, you began to read .

“...It's horrible and infuriating and brings out your jealous side. I get it. So what do you do? How do you handle him, and, more important, how do you keep him focused on your relationship when he's being approached left and right?...”

“How?” You mouthed out loud , as if the article was speaking to you

“...don't put him so high up on a pedestal. You deserve each other, and you are equals in the relationship. That mind-set is important...”

“Okay, okay” you nodded in an agreeable manner then read down a little more .

“...when a woman comes up to him and you're around. Let her and him know that he is yours, and you want to keep it that way. He will find that fiery, possessive side of you exciting and comforting...”

“I’m not fighting for no man, Cosmo”

“..."accidentally" let him see an innocent yet flirty text from a guy you met at work, or mention how "weird" it was that so-and-so asked you for a drink...”

“This is dumb as hell” you laughed and tossed the magazine with the rest of the mail . You should have known better than to look for advice from a pop culture magazine .

Hours passed and Erik was outside waiting for you . You had taken your time getting ready . The curls your usually had were flattened straight and tucked behind your ears. A casual dress accompanied with a denim jacket and heels . Plus , your make up was perfect.

You walked out of your apartment complex and made your way to Eriks truck. He thought you looked amazing , even more so than ever because you didn’t know how beautiful you were. To him, it was effortless.

“What?” You snapped with an attitude . You noticed the look he gave you when you got into the car . Erik laughed in response and pulled off .

“Nothing , you just look good... that’s all” Erik nodded his head to his music nonchalantly. You turned your body towards the window , just so Erik couldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing your smile . How could a girl be mad at that? And plus, he looked good too.

Erik drove briskly through the mountains , until he reached Devin and Tianas Spanish-styled home . There were several cars in the drive way as you pulled up . You both went inside and greeted everyone. Some new faces and some old .

You went your separate way from Erik, finding comfort in playing games with other people. Erik kept his eye on you the entire time , he was like a lost puppy waiting for you to find him. Out of the two host, Tiana was the first to notice that Erik wasn’t having fun . He told her that the two of you were on bad terms so he gave you space. She suggested that the four of you played a game alone . Tiana gathered you and her husband , then met Erik in a well-off room away from the main party .

“Let’s get it “ Devin shuffled the deck of Uno cards and gave each person seven . Both couples sat across from their mates and played the game .

“Uno!” You called out excitedly , you were down to your last card .

Erik hit you with a draw four and a smirk . Everybody cursed and took cards from the deck .

“Just when I think everything is straight , Erik shuts shit down “

“It’s just a game though” Erik placed a card onto the stack .

“It’s just a game though” you mimicked him in a nagging voice .

The married couple couldn’t stand the tension and before an argument started they interjected .

“You guys talking about Uno, or something else ?” Devin asked .

“Ask the ladies man” you motioned towards Erik . He tossed his cards on the table , fed up .

“What’s going on with you guys , seriously?” Tiana lowered her voice a bit , making sure nobody in the other room could hear the conversation.

“She’s upset because other women still like me” Erik made it seem like no big deal .

“Is that true?” Tiana interjected

“It’s more complicated than that , women are approaching me and messaging me about him”

The two of you felt completely comfortable spilling all the intimate details of the relationship with them . That had years of experience and knowledge under their belts . Erik gave them his view and you followed up with your own .

“You’re upset at something Erik can’t control and Erik should have helped you get to a place where you feel secure” Tiana began to preach .

Erik moved closer to you , running his hand across your lower back . “You don’t feel secure with me?” He spoke low, only for you to hear .

“I feel like I’m suddenly in a competition. If all those women weren’t enough for you then how could I, just one girl, be enough ?” Erik wrapped his arm around you and brought you into his chest . His way of letting you know you were secure with him. He didn’t know you felt that way .

“Why was she different than the rest of the girls?” Tiana questioned Erik. He thought about the night he met her, in this same house . Sure he had seen women more beautiful, women with better bodies and more sex appeal. But it was something about you that drew him in .

“This man drooled on himself when he saw her!” Devin blurted out .

“I did, my shirt got wet and everything “ Erik admitted shamelessly.

“We laughed about that shit for weeks” Devin cracked up.

“Girl, If that don’t make you feel secure then I don’t know what can” Tiana teased .

Devin and Tiana left the room, they allowed you and Erik some alone time . You tried your best not to taunt him for drooling, but you were flattered . Erik still held you against him, you took it a step further and embraced his waist . The words “sorry” were at the tip of your tongue . As soon as you were about to speak, Erik did.

“I remember after our second date, you didn’t call me for a like a week. Usually I wouldn’t trip ... but I did.” He played with your chain for emphasis. “That’s when I knew you were different “

“Erik, I’m sorry I’ve been mean . You don’t deserve that “

“It’s alright , you ready to get out of here?”

You nodded your head and agreed . The two of you said goodbye to everyone and made your way to the car . Erik drove through the hills slowly , enjoying the entire view of the lit city below . His car came to a stop, right on the edge of the road . A few cars were parked near by. They probably had the same idea as Erik .

He wanted to get high and enjoy this view with his girl, his one and only girl. Erik broke down his weed and rolled a blunt . He lit it , giving you the honor of hitting it first .

“I didn’t know how insecure I was , until tonight“ You mouthed , after inhaling and blowing a little smoke through your nostrils .

“You have nothing to be insecure about, I’m with you for a reason. Nobody makes me feel the way you do”

That put a big smile on your face . All you needed was a little assurance. You have him the blunt . He took it between his soft lips and inhaled . It had been almost a week since you felt him inside of you . And something about that small gesture turned you on. You reached over his lap and reclined his seat . Erik smirked at you, he knew exactly what you wanted .

His jeans were already low. You unbuttoned him and pulled his briefs down. His beautiful dick sprung at attention. Without a word you wrapped your mouth around his shaft . You focused on getting it wet so your lips could glide easily . This was his favorite , you were the best at it . You wanted to show him how much you wanted him .

“Shit baby, just like that” Erik ashed his blunt , it felt so good he couldn’t smoke anymore . You slurped hard, hearing the sopping sounds over the radio. Your head bobbed as you popped your lips on the tip of his veiny dick. Erik held on to the back of your head for leverage , bringing you all the way back down on him . You covered every last inch until his dick touched the back of your throat .

“You so perfect for me” Erik brought your head up , allowing you to take in air. He lifted you by your shoulders and kissed your moist lips . It was slow, sensual and passionate . Erik snuck your dress above your ass, then took it upon himself to slide your panties to the side .

“Come sit on this dick” his voice was smooth but still demanding . Just how you liked it.

You raised your leg over his lap, thanking god that Erik had a truck with tints. Erik cut the engine and turned off the radio . You thought maybe he wanted to listen for trouble , but he just wanted to hear you .

You slid onto him easily , seizing the moment . He always felt so good inside of you. Erik peeled your breast from the top of your dress . You rode him slowly .

“This the dick that got you wearing that chain?” he hissed , digging his palm into both of your ass cheeks .

“Yes baby” You let out a whimper, speeding up and adding a little bounce to your movement.

“Show me how you got that fucking chain!” He slapped your ass hard , kicking you in gear . Your breast bounced up and down . Eriks eyes reverted back and forth . Your silk like wetness coated his dick , each time you came down on his shaft he let out a grunt of satisfaction.

The sweet musty smell filled the car , so did the humidity . It covered all the windows , nobody could peak in if they tried .

Eriks hands roamed from your ass , to your waist , to the cup of your delicious breast .Then they found a place on the sides of your neck , bringing you down on to him . Your foreheads touched and the air flared from Eriks nostrils loudly .

“Let it out daddy ! “ you demanded against his lips . He slapped your ass again , piercing his fingers into your mounds . He forced your hips to move to his liking . Erik took control, his dick sent a lightning sensation through senses.

“Ohhh my god” you croaked and rested in the crevice of Eriks neck.

“Yeah? Daddy feel good to you ?” Erik boasted at the sounds you were making .

“Mmmmm, feel so good” you assured him.

Erik used his thighs to thrust upward into you . You let out a scream so loud that it even shocked you . You were powerless, and willing to do anything he wanted in that moment . The sensation he gave you , you’d rob a bank if he asked you to .

You pulled yourself up, holding the sides of his face firmly . Eriks eyes connected with yours before he kissed you quickly . Nothing but Pure extacy was written all over your face . You opened your mouth wide as you took in air .

Erik knew that face, he sped his strokes up . With each thrust his seat became soaked with your cream.

You gripped the roof handle and his chest as you felt yourself about to explode. You came violently . Your head flew back and a growl escaped your pretty lips.

“Don’t fucking move!” Erik never stopped fucking you . Your walls contracted around him as you tried your best not to lift up . Your flesh was far too sensitive to take the pounding Erik was giving you . Just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore , he let out a Harsh breath and came inside of you .

You laid back on top of him, unable to climb back into your spot .

“This shit feel so good, I could just drive home with my dick still inside of you “

You let out a tired laugh and kissed under his chin. It was sticky from sweat . It didn’t matter to you , you loved every part of him. You kissed his lips and then back down to his neck . With your tongue you marked your spot and sensually began to suck on its saltiness.

Erik’s dick began to stiffen inside of you . “Round two?” He mumbled.

“Meet me in the back seat”

[marksburyscripts]

Episode 11-- And We Shall Be Atlas

Google Doc

[The Frankenstein house. Afternoon. We hear Victor flipping through pages]

CHRISTINE Victor--

VICTOR Hold on.

CHRISTINE You need to take a break.

VICTOR No. No, I'm-- I'm close, I can feel it.

HENRY You've been "close" for over a week now. You're hyperfocusing again.

VICTOR And? If it gets me closer to figuring out what's going on--

CHRISTINE Victor, please. I understand, but you need to take care of yourself, too.

VICTOR I am taking care of myself! This is-- [A breath as he calms himself down] I need this. If she knew something, then…. Look, I’m-- I’m not gonna just sit around and hope that things work out. I can’t, I…. There’s a connection here somewhere. I just have to figure out what mom knew.

CHRISTINE And when was the last time you slept?

VICTOR What day is it?

HENRY For fuck's sake. Christine’s right. At least go take a shower. Rest your brain for a bit.

VICTOR ...Okay. [He exits the room. We hear the bathroom door close behind him]

HENRY Jesus, that guy. If I get like that about a project I'm working on, just slap me across the face, okay?

CHRISTINE He's passionate, I'll give him that.

HENRY He's fucked up, is what he is. And I mean that in the nicest way possible. He's terrified, so he's using this to take his mind off it and gain some feeling of control over the situation.

CHRISTINE That psych degree is serving you well.

HENRY Didn't need the psych degree for that one. Just a degree in understanding Victor Frankenstein. Which is arguably more challenging.

CHRISTINE [Laughs] I can imagine. You've been doing well so far, though.

HENRY ...I thought I was. [He sighs] I mean, I know depression symptoms, anxiety, PTSD. It's all basic stuff. But… it's different when you're just listing them off for a test, you know? Seeing it in action, when it's suddenly real…. I barely recognize him.

CHRISTINE He's going to get through this, Henry. And as much as you might want to, you can't hold yourself responsible for making sure he knows that.

HENRY I know. Doesn't mean I can't try, though.

CHRISTINE Oh, he left his phone recording.

HENRY Perfect. You listening, future Victor? Here's your reminder that I care about you, you son of a bitch. So I don't wanna hear you talking about how you don't have anyone, don't even think it. You've got us two badasses right here.

CHRISTINE Damn right!

HENRY [More serious now] ...Honestly. I…. I want you to be okay, man. I hate seeing you like this. We're all going through shit. But don't think that means you can't count on us to be there. Me and you, that’s always been the way things work, right? It’s just us against the world. The rest of the world. Nothing’s gonna change that. I promise. [Beat.] And that's my emotional vulnerability quota for the week!

CHRISTINE ...You know, you have a right to be open, too.

HENRY What do you mean?

CHRISTINE Henry, how are you coping with everything?

HENRY Fine. I’m on my feet-- Well, feet plus a cane. I’m home. I’m fine. ...I’m always fine.

CHRISTINE But you don’t have to be.

HENRY ...I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. It’s like everything changed overnight. Almost twenty years, it was always the three of us. And now suddenly Elliot’s gone, and Victor’s… like this. Not to mention my whole situation. I’m… working on it. I’ll be fine.

CHRISTINE ...Well, if you change your mind.

HENRY Not to turn the tables and completely change the subject, but I’ve got some questions.

CHRISTINE Okay, hit me.

HENRY At Dr Walton’s. I just felt like there was something… off about your bit.

CHRISTINE What do you mean?

HENRY I dunno, like… you were leaving something out.

CHRISTINE Nothing relevant.

HENRY Wanna share with the class, just in case?

CHRISTINE ...When Raoul came looking for me, he had help. A person who said that they knew Erik. I couldn’t get much more information from them, but they said they were from Persia.

HENRY ...Doesn’t Persia like…

CHRISTINE Not exist anymore? Yeah. So that definitely stood out. But I wasn’t about to question them, there were more important things going on. Plus, questioning the person who’s probably saving your life isn’t the best idea. And... I don’t know, there was just something about them, I couldn’t put my finger on it. But they helped Raoul find me and said that they wanted to make sure that Erik didn’t hurt anyone else.

HENRY Well they did a shit job. [Beat.] What the hell’ve we got in this book, anyway? [He starts flipping through pages of the journal] Bunch of different languages, circles, and lines. [Sarcastic] Great. Definitely something we can work with. No doubt we’ll be able to figure this out. God, my head just hurts looking at it. Your Persian friend know anything about these?

CHRISTINE They never said anything to suggest they do. I have no idea how to get in contact with them again. The only person who might have an idea is Erik....

HENRY Well fuck that idea, then.

CHRISTINE I obviously understand why you and Victor wouldn’t want to, but it couldn’t hurt if I went by myself and--

HENRY Really? It couldn’t hurt? I know you spent a lot of time with him, but he did kidnap you and try to force you to marry him. It could hurt you.

CHRISTINE He wouldn’t do that, not to me.

HENRY You don’t know that. Did you miss the part where he literally abducted you?

CHRISTINE You going to diagnose me, doctor?

HENRY [Scoffs] I’m being serious. Look, I don’t really know you. That doesn’t mean I can’t be concerned for your safety.

CHRISTINE [Sighs] I appreciate it. And you know, you’re probably right. No need to risk provoking him.

HENRY We’ll keep your buddy in mind. For now…. [He flips through the journal again] Maybe all this is nothing. I mean, Caroline never gave off any spooky vibes or anything. Maybe Victor’s paranoia is getting the better of him.

CHRISTINE Do you really believe that?

HENRY ...I sure would like to.

CHRISTINE But….

HENRY But I’m not an idiot. This, [He rustles the pages] isn’t a coincidence. Who just writes secret messages and draws weird symbols just for the hell of it? It’s not impossible, but it’s not likely, either.

CHRISTINE [After a beat] “War.”

HENRY What.

CHRISTINE Right here. I can’t read most of it, but Guerre, that’s French.

HENRY You would know French, you fancy motherfucker. [A small laugh] So we have “Something something, war, something something something”. Fantastic progress.

CHRISTINE It’s something. And add that to the fact that this is the symbol that Professor Crane recognized when we went up to Ingleside….

HENRY And we might actually be getting somewhere.

CHRISTINE Fingers crossed that the rest goes smoothly.

HENRY ...Another question.

CHRISTINE Okay?

HENRY You're always asking us how we're handling everything. How are you handling it?

CHRISTINE Henry, I appreciate it, but--

HENRY Nope. Don't tell me that you're not at least a little freaked out by all of this. First with literally everything about Erik, now all the… ghosts or whatever.

CHRISTINE Don't let Victor hear you say the G Word.

HENRY [Laughing] Seriously. But I mean it. This has gotta be difficult to process. I mean, it sure as hell is for me. And Victor can be a bit overwhelming, even when he’s somewhat okay. You can’t tell me you’re not having even a little bit of trouble with it.

CHRISTINE I guess, yeah. I've known about Erik's origins for a while now, so I'm used to that. But I'll admit, everything else is…. Well, it's going to take some time to really get comfortable with it.

HENRY Well. At least you won't have to do it alone.

CHRISTINE Thank goodness for that. For both of us. You've been doing really well with it, though.

HENRY ...Have I, though?

CHRISTINE What do you mean?

HENRY With Victor. He's…. I mean, look at the shit he did. I know he didn't mean to hurt anyone, but come on.

CHRISTINE Are you upset with him?

HENRY Maybe? Not as much as he expected me to be, even if I really should be. If that were the case, I wouldn't be getting involved in… whatever this is. But things are still weird between us. He obviously just wants things to go back to how they used to be, and yeah we're headed in that direction. But I still feel like he…. [He trails off, having lost the words] Shit, what's it called? Never mind. Things are fucked up, and I'm not sure how quickly I should be readjusting.

CHRISTINE You two are made for each other, you know.

HENRY [A little too quickly] What?

CHRISTINE You guys always try and make everything into a science project. This isn't chemistry, Henry. There's no set formula for this sort of thing. We just have to do our best to figure it out on a case-by-case basis.

HENRY How did we get back to my bullshit again?

CHRISTINE It's a talent of mine.

HENRY Someday, you're gonna let me help you.

CHRISTINE You'll have to drag it out of me, Dr Clerval.

[The bathroom door opens]

HENRY There he is. Feel better?

VICTOR Yeah…. Thank you.

HENRY Any monumental shower breakthroughs?

VICTOR More like breakdowns. [A moment of concerned silence] That was a joke. Look, guys, I really do appreciate your help, but… I think I just need some time to myself. Just to… unwind a bit.

CHRISTINE Promise you'll text us if you need anything?

VICTOR Sure.

HENRY Want me to order you lunch?

VICTOR No, I-- I'm good. I'll make something.

HENRY I want you to send me a picture of it so I know you're not bullshitting me, okay?

VICTOR Fine.

HENRY And if you send me a picture of another damn Hot Pocket, I swear I will lose it. [Victor sighs] I mean it. I'm talking an actual meal, minimum one vegetable.

VICTOR [Laughing] Goodbye, Clerval.

NEXT EPISODE➝

[genericpseudonyms]

pretty, dirty girl

It’s just past midnight and in Tokyo, I have missed my last train. Not, that I would have made it anyway. All I had to eat was half a burrito at The Pink Cow and six tequila shots. That was at 8pm. I’ve downed at least three beers since then. At this point in my life I am 21 and 120 pounds. My head is swimming. My friend Jean warned me that everyone had a tequila story. I’m wondering if this is mine.

I have fallen in the backstreets of Shibuya. My head hit the asphalt first and I am staring up at my dipshit friends. They’re not really my friends. They’re just classmates who aren’t my ex’s friends. People to whom I don’t have to explain what happened.

I’m too far gone to ask for help so instead I burst out laughing. Not because it’s funny. I’m pretty sure I’m bleeding.

N’s there, picking me up and I’m not ready for the momentum. For a brief second I think I’m going to topple into his face and we’ll kiss again.

We don’t. Judo makes his arms strong and well, life is not a romantic comedy. He sets me back onto my feet and then leads me to a bench. He cracks open another beer and puts it in my hand. I drink.

“You know what my favorite thing about her is?”

It’s E. A former Navy man, burly and barrel chested. Get a beer in him and he’ll tell you exactly how many Japanese women he’s fucked since his girlfriend left him. He’s alright in class. Motivated and occasionally funny. We danced once at a party and he lifted me all the way up to the ceiling so I could touch the fairy lights.  

“What?” N asks. His head is tilted, his eyes studying me intently. I feel like an animal on display. April is watching us, her eyes rolling as she chews on her lip ring. Yukiko is somewhere else, smoking a cigarette and probably angrily texting her boyfriend on her phone.

“Those lips. They’re full. Imagine kissing that.”

N says nothing, but E flicks out his tongue and runs it over his teeth. I don’t really know what’s going on, but I feel pretty and dirty and pretty dirty at the same time.

“Ew,” April says, shoving E hard in the shoulder. “Don’t be gross.”

-

I have emptied the burrito, six tequila shots and what I’m sure is now five beers into a shrub in a neighborhood park. E is holding back my hair while April and N practice judo kata a few feet away. I’m not jealous at all.

“You know what your issue is?” He says, rubbing circles into my back.

“What?”

“You want what you can’t have.”

I dry heave and then glare up at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He glances back over at N and April, and then back at me. “Sure.”

“Fuck off.”

I was a lot mouthier back then. Still shy and reserved with strangers, but a spitfire with friends. The F bomb was every other word out of my mouth, my most abused adjective. Part of my charm, I thought. I look back at who I was then and I want to tell her to temper her wild heart before she goes diving headfirst into dangers she cannot protect herself from.

In the freeze frame of this replay, this is the moment I would want to fast forward through. Instead, it’s forever crystallized in my mind.

“You know what your other problem is?” E pauses, and his hand is way too close to the nape of my neck. His skin is too warm and it makes my spine tingle. In a bad way. “You’re too smart.”

“Because puking into shrubs at 2 am in the morning is real smart. Give me the Nobel Prize.”

“That. That’s what I’m talking about. It’s bad enough you’re top of every class. No guy wants to compete with that. Let alone that mouth.”

“Not my fault if you can’t keep up.”

“This is why you lose out to Japanese girls all the time,” E says. “We’re always gonna pick them because it’s easier on the ego. They dress up. They wear makeup. Heels. Real talk? Can we be real?”

I pause. Really, I should’ve told him his big, fat head was full of stupid misogynist bullshit. That he was flinging his own insecurities at me, trying to bring me down a peg because I made him feel small.

But N had called me intimidating earlier that day. We were just talking about our most recent lecture and I didn’t understand why he’d said that. He’d asked me my thoughts, and I told him. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Yeah,” I say. “I can handle real talk.”

“You’re always gonna be competing with girls who bend over backward for men. You? You don’t bend. You came out here tonight in what? Jeans, sneakers, and a T-shirt?”

“I wore makeup,” I bristle.

“Barely any. You still look like you. You talk back, you make dirty jokes, you drink like one of the guys. You’re a tomboy. When we fuck women, it’s primal. It’s biological. We want to spread our seed. We’re looking for the mother of our children, potentially. You? You could be super hot but you don’t try hard enough. N? He’s hot. Girls on the street are always doing double takes. He’s got his pick of the litter. Why should he pick you?”

It stings. I want to barf again, but not because of the alcohol. Instead, I lash out. “So genius, what am I supposed to do? Hide my mouth behind my hands and giggle? Call him onii-chan?”

“So you do like him.”

“NO.” I am flat-out lying. I like everything about N—from the way he smiles to the way he asks me about my thoughts on 19th century German philosophers. I like reading his essays contrasting Buddhism and Christianity, even if they are a little rambling. I like the way he draws buildings in the margins of his notes.

But that doesn’t matter. We kissed once and then he disappeared on me. This is the first time we’ve hung out in weeks.

“Sure,” E says.

“This is just hypothetical,” I grumble. It’s not like I’m only hung up on N either. Just the other week I kissed a girl for the first time. I liked it so much it left me wondering if it should, or shouldn’t, concern me. “Don’t read too much into it.”

“Well you could start by losing like 20 pounds. I’m not saying you’re fat. You’re just...curvy.”

“I’m normal.”

“Look, on a 1-10 scale, you’re a 6. Maybe a seven with personality. Lose the 20 pounds? You could be an 8 easy. Nine if someone really likes you. You’ve got a decent face. Wear some makeup. Wear nice clothes. For an Asian girl, you have tits which is like, c’mon. Holy grail. But you also gotta stop making dirty jokes. You’re just telling guys you’re a slut we can just fuck and leave in the morning. Men are assholes. We can’t help it. But trust me, do this and the guys will all be chasing after you. You gotta play the game.”

I smile and then suggest getting back to the group. I still have to see E in class and there’s absolutely nothing I could say in that moment that would end well.

But fast forward eight years into the future, and I remember the thoughts racing through my head.

I’d rather die than lose 20 pounds for a man who ran away from me like a coward. If that’s the game I have to play, fuck it. I’m good. I don’t need anybody to love me. And fuck, I don’t want people to chase me. I’ll wear makeup if I choose to. If I want to look like a hag, I will. If I’m alone for the rest of my life because no one likes me for who I actually am, well then.

Who needs the rest of you anyway?

-

I’m in Roppongi, Tokyo’s cesspool of high gloss debauchery and sin. I really don’t want to be. I’m here as a glorified babysitter for Erik, a turd of a human, as a favor for my ex. I’m pissed at both of them because clubbing at 2 am has never been my thing. Drinking heavily is something I don’t do anymore because the consequences for a drunk woman without a trustworthy friend are far too great.

But god, he’s so insufferable and being drunk would make it so much better.

“Come on!” He says, shoving another tequila shot in my direction. “If you don’t drink one of these, I’ll have to drink both. Do you want to see me even drunker?”

No, I absolutely do not. The city of Tokyo does not. All of Japan does not. Humanity does not. Erik drunk is a walking catastrophe. I am counting down the days until he leaves on a train back for Hiroshima because I cannot break up another fight. The last time he got blitzed on cheap sake, he swung his fist at my face. He chased after me, punching both arms trying to land a hit. He was slow as fuck and easy to dodge, but still. I had backup then.

This time, we were alone.

“Fine,” I say. I can never remember the order to a tequila shot—lime or salt first, so I just throw it back. It burns all the way down and I remember Jean’s words. Everyone has a tequila story. I had mine and I really didn’t want another one.

“Thatta girl. So why did you guys break up?”

“Oh no. I’m done telling this story.”

“C’mon. We all know you stayed here for him. You’re you. You could’ve gone to Stanford or Harvard. You were smart enough for that.”

“No I wasn’t,” I bristle. And I most certainly didn’t leave my country for a boy.  

“Yes, you were. You built fucking robots and speakers in high school.”

“They were classes at school. Plenty of people at our school did the same thing. I’m a good student but I’m not that smart.”

“You were smarter than the rest of us.”

“That’s not hard.”

“It’s gonna be hard for you now,” he says, waving the bartender down. He orders another two shots before I can stop him and I am ten seconds away from emptying out my purse to take an exorbitant taxi home.

“Hard for me to what?”

“Date.”

I bury thoughts of N. That was over a year earlier and he moved back to Philadelphia anyway. I haven’t liked anyone that intensely since, but I will likely never see him again.

“I’m perfectly happy being single,” I say. And to an extent, it’s true. Relationships are hard work. I don’t love lightly. Never have and never will. The next person—man or woman—I date seriously, I tell myself, will be someone who sees me for who I really am. That person won’t ask me to be anything other than myself.

“Yeah, but eventually you’ll want to date. And it’ll be hard for you.”

“Why’s that?”

The bartender plunks two more shots down. Erik gives me a meaningful arched brow. I hate him so much but my ex will kill me if I abandon him in a foreign country. Suddenly, I hate my ex more than I’ve ever hated him for leaving me with Erik. I grit my teeth and throw back another tequila.

“You’re beautiful, but you’re too smart. You’re going to want people on your level, but guys on your level can have any pick of woman. And trust me, they’re always going to pick the dumber, hotter girl.”

“I’m not beautiful. If I were beautiful, I would have an easier time—”

“Only,” he says, cutting me off, “if you weren’t intimidating. Which you are.”

“I’m so fucking sick of people calling me that. I’m socially awkward and a total dork. What is so fucking intimidating about me?”

“You don’t pretend to be dumber than you are.”

“Why would anyone do that?”

“Because it makes us feel stupid. Like you could leave at any minute and we actually have to try to keep your interest.”

I grimace. “That’s the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever heard. I’m not a dick. I don’t rate people based on how interesting they are.”

“Doesn’t matter. You? You’re terrifying. Do you know how hard it is to impress you?”

“This is ridiculous.”

“This is how men are. We say we want smart, pretty girls. But we don’t. Not really.”

“So what do men want Erik?”

“To fuck pretty girls. And to date someone who makes us feel smart and needed. How many times did you make him feel needed?”

I don’t have an answer for that. That pisses me off enough to drink another shot. And another. Because this bumbling, sexist pig of a moron isn’t completely wrong. I remember my ex sighing as we get our test scores back. I remember him saying that once, just once, he wished he could score higher than me. I remember shrugging off his offers to help and insisting that he let me figure things out on my own.

I hadn’t thought of it like that before. I’d just been mad he wanted me to be less.

-

Erik is piss drunk in the corner of the karaoke booth. It’s 5:45 am and thank god, the trains are finally running again. My head is pounding from the alcohol I didn’t want to drink in the first place. But the point is I’ve survived this awful night and now my ex owes me the biggest fucking favor in the history of all mankind.

I go to leave the room when Erik pulls me to him and plants one on me. I am frozen but there’s tongue, so much tongue. He’s whispering in my ear about going back to mine. That my ex, one of his best friends, never needs to know. That it can be our dirty little secret.

I push him off me. I remind him that a good friend doesn’t touch the ex girlfriends of their best friends. I don’t care if this is true or not. I don’t even know if I believe it. I just want him to leave me be.

“Fuck,” he spits. His breath smells flammable. “He fucking cockblocked me again!”

Yeah, I think. Because me saying no meant nothing.

-

Five years later, I’m at a bar in Nomad, New York City. I’m grabbing drinks and dinner with a coworker. And when I say drinks, I mean two maximum. Alcohol is dangerous, even if you’re with friends. Say what you want about me, I learn from my mistakes.

“So, he said this thing about you.”

“Who? R?”

“Yeah.”

“He called you a dirty girl.”

“He what?”

“Yeah, it was, uh. He was trying to convince me that I should be dating you.”

“...Wait what?”

“Yeah. He said ‘You know she’s a dirty girl who’ll do whatever you want in bed.’”

I take a swig of my drink. I don’t particularly like alcohol and I’ve only recently started drinking again after years of abstaining. But sometimes it helps numb things. Like, a senior Vice President at your publisher talking about you like you’re some piece of meat to be tossed at anything with a penis.

“What else did he say?”

Turns out, a lot. Stuff about the type of girl I am, and how he loves Asian women. That he has yellow fever. That, since we live on the same block, he looks for me on weekend mornings to see if I’m walking the dog. And if I have any “gentleman callers” with me when I do.

I find out later that R has also ranked women in the office by fuck-ability. I don’t want to know where I fall on that list, so I don’t ask.

This was the start of it really—my slow and gradual descent into my most recent depressive state.

Work is hard enough. Being friendly in an office when you’re an awkward turtle is even harder. Finding out that you’re talked about like a piece of meat, that people you’re supposed to work with and trust are saying these things behind your back?

How are you supposed to look them in the eye and still do your job?

-

This is how these stories end.

Years later, N looked me up and messaged me. He wanted to know how I’d managed to build a career doing what I wanted and whether I felt fulfilled. We tried meeting up a few times, but as always, he flaked. It didn’t hurt though. It was expected. The thing that bothered me most was he said he skipped my status updates on social media because I was too funny, too intelligent, and it made him feel small. Accusing someone of triggering your insecurities is a shitty thing to do.

E also messaged me a few months ago. He said something I’d written resonated with him and he wanted to let me know. He has a Japanese wife and a daughter now. I was almost happy for him until he said my profile picture was hot and I’d done a good job ‘leveling up.’

As for Erik. A few days after our incident, he shoved his hand down my friend’s shirt. My friend, the victim of two violent rapes. And while I find it easy to forgive things done to me, I could not forgive what he did to her. I told him I never wanted to see his face again. He sent me an e-mail where he blamed his drinking problems on his alcoholic father. He never apologized. He never said he’d try to change. I found out later still that he’d been accused of rape.

I’d like to say I never did see his face again. I did a real good job up until last year. Friends kept badgering me to give him another shot. They questioned why I was so militant about my grudge. Most of our mutual friends chose him, and so I lost a ton of friends this way. He’s also married now and still drinks like a fish.

That asshole who called me a dirty girl at work? I filed a complaint with HR. An investigation was launched. And I lost. He read me a 30 second apology, which I had to accept. He never once looked me in the eye. He quit later, but the damage was done.

As for me, I begrudgingly concede Erik was half right. I find it exceedingly hard to date. But in most of my experiences, I’m reassured that I am either pretty or dirty. Maybe even both. Some people say I’m smart. Others say I’m funny. Fewer still say they like my personality. Once in a while, I’m told I am a good person or that I’m deserving of good things.

Those are the ones I miss most when they’re gone.

[purplestarkatz93]

My FT questions answers

So regarding my previous post here are my answers to my Fairy Tail Questionnaire.

1.  How did you first heard about Fairy Tail?

From my friend Beth. I saw how much she liked it and when she suggested that I check it out I did. I have been hooked ever since. And it’s become my favorite anime of all time, because I never have been more emotionally invested in an anime before.

2. Do read the manga, watch the anime, or both?

I do both. Haven’t been watching the anime lately, but I’ve been keeping up with the manga now. BUT I HATE SPOILERS, SO DON’T TELL ME ANYTHING UNTIL THE TRANSLATION COMES OUT!

3. Who are your favorite character(s)?

I really love all of them, but my top 3 are:  

Levy McGarden, I like her because she’s a fellow bookworm, she’s cute, intelligent, and really needs to be the focus more often. Pantherlily. I love how he can go from this big creature, yet can change back into this small cute thing. He’s bad ass and adorable. I call him Badorable. And really my absolute favorite character is Gajeel Redfox. I could really talk for hours on why he’s my favorite, but to sum up I like him because he’s a complex character. 

A Complex character, also known as a Dynamic character or a Round character displays the following characteristics:

He or she undergoes an important change as the plot unfolds.

The changes he or she experiences occur because of his or her actions or experiences in the story.

Changes in the character may be good or bad.

The character is highly developed and complex, meaning they have a variety of traits and different sides to their personality.

Some of their character traits may create conflict in the character.

He or she displays strengths, weaknesses, and a full range of emotions.

He or she has significant interactions with other characters.

He or she advances the plot or develops a major theme in the text.

Gajeel has done most of those things on that list.

And to be honest when he first appeared I really didn’t hate him. Yes what he did was wrong, especially regarding Team Shadowgear, but I had this small feeling, ever since I found out that he was a Dragon Slayer that he was going to be an ally to Fairy Tail, never expected him to join though. I’m so glad he did!

4. What is a character or characters that you absolutely hate? And not even love to hate, you wish they were never in the story to begin with.

Future Rogue. That bastard kill Future Lucy, and I will never forgive him for that. Even if he apologized. Seriously I cried so hard when I watched that part in the anime.

5. Do you own any FT merchandise?

The first 20 volumes of the manga, a Capricorn key charm, Natsu plush, Lily plush, small Happy loaf plush or Tsum Tsum, a Mirajane keychain, a Gajeel keychain, a notebook, exceed bracelet, a FT symbol keychain, a wallet, and 2 T-shirts.

I think that’s it.

6. What is your favorite opening?

I have 3.

Snow Fairy ( the first and probably the most recognizable)

https://youtu.be/T2dy-atGDyg

Rock City Boy ( Fun fact the singer is actually American, but he lived most of his life in Japan)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LX3v651Ip8E

I wish ( I like this one because it’s the only one where I think I could do a cover of it. It’s in my vocal range)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uTDpmFv4Ovc

Honorable mention goes to the 1st movie’s opening 200 Miles.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=br0zVupkx-c

7. What is your favorite ending?

Be as One

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8n5em5vZoaQ

You, He, Me, and She

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=470d_pi1F3w

8. What is your favorite character song?

Well, since Gajeel is my favorite character, my fave character song, is his song My Iron Blues. It’s awesome, fun to sway to, has female back up singers, and I like his singing very much.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DdS93Qp9H84

Also for you Yuri on Ice fans, this the same guy who sings You Only Live Once

You’re welcome for that random piece of trivia.

9.What is your favorite instrumental track?

Any version of the main theme.

Original https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m6kb96YWXMA

Slow  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Loi4bYzXvAw

Piano https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qk2jYmZerD8

Metal https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BiT8Ct0cQzM

Tenroujima https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=At_zB-pK3JQ

I also like Dragon Slayer  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UJoKUq8j1Ns

Natsu’s theme https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AhevjjbvWmw

Lucy’s theme https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L26TQP7Qe9I

Happy’s theme  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QAIFonqW4SY

One thing I love about FT’s music is the Celtic feel to it. My family is Irish and Scottish, so it makes me think of my heritage.

10. What are your FT ships?

I ship:

Nalu (Natsu x Lucy)

Gruvia (Gray x Juvia)

Jerza (Jellal x Erza)

Elfgreen (Elfman x Evergreen)

Laxana (Laxus x Cana)

RoWen (Romeo x Wendy)

LoRies (Loke x Aries)

Albis (Alzack x Bisca)

Rerry (Ren x Sherry)

Cappy (Carla x Happy)

Kinbara (Erik x Kinana)

StingYu (Sting x Yukino)

But my OTP for the series is Gajevy (Gajeel x Levy, which is canon now! YAY! )

11. What is an unpopular opinion you have aka something that you do that is not normal to the FT fandom? 

I’m a NaLu fan that does not hate Lisanna at all. I hate how so many Nalu fans hate her just because she “gets in the way of NaLu”.

That’s one thing that bothers me with any fandom. When people hate on a character just because they get in they way of their precious OTP.

I’ve said it before, but I think that is a stupid reason to hate a character. If the only reason you hate a character is because they ruin a ship for you, kindly go back into your small corner of the world, where you can bitch and complain all you want like the immature brat that you are.

The rest of us adults, are going to ship what we want, and respect each other’s choices, and not hate on character solely for that purpose.

Lisanna did nothing wrong, and all those fan fics that portray her as this bitchy chick who “steals” Natsu from Lucy and makes Lucy all depressed and shit makes me want to gouge my eyes out every time I read one.

I respect the fact that some people don’t ship NaLu, I respect the fact that I don’t ship NaLi.

NOW CAN WE PLEASE ALL JUST GET ALONG AND BE NAKAMA LIKE WE’RE SUPPOSED TO BE?! 

12. Do you draw/write FT fan art or fan fiction?

Yes, check out my DA here http://purplekatz93.deviantart.com/gallery/42409453/Fairy-Tail

Maybe I’ll post stuff here soon, old and new.

13. What is one thing about FT that pisses you off?

So many unanswered questions, for example WHERE THE HELL IS LAXUS’S MOTHER AND GRANDMOTHER?! I KNOW HOW BABIES ARE MADE SO HOW THE HELL CAN IVAN AND LAXUS EXIST WITHOUT A MOTHER?!

At least we know about Makarov’s mom now.

And we do know more of the dragon slayers’ past, but I still have my headcanons about their biological parents, or at least Gajeel and Wendy’s. Like how Metalicana and Grandeeny found them. Let me know if you want to hear them. Bear in mind they are quite depressing.Don’t have any for Sting and Rouge. And as for Natsu, well I did have one, but that went out the window and I think you know why.

14. If you could put the FT cast into another show what would it be and why?

It’s a weird choice but I chose Scrubs. I could just see it. Natsu=JD (It be funny to see Natsu have all those crazy daydreams, wouldn’t it?) Lucy=Elliot (If Natsu and Lucy did live in another universe, I think they would be an on again off again couple until they were ready to be with each other.) Juvia=Carla (Putting Carla as Carla would be too obvious, and I know it doesn’t exactly match up, but I have this headcanon that Juvia can speak Spanish, because Juvia;s name is the Japanese spelling for the Spanish word rain or  lluvia) Gray=Turk (I know it doesn’t really fit, but had to keep him and Juvia together.) Laxus= Dr,Cox (Can you just imagine how funny it be if Laxus did a Cox rant?) Cana=Jordan (I feel a relationship between Laxus and Cana would be like the one Jordan has with Dr.Cox) Gajeel=Janitor (One of the best characters in the show, and it be funny to see Gajeel prank Natsu) Levy=Lady (She’s the Janitor’s girlfriend and later wife in Season 8) Hades= Dr. Kelso (Hades is evil but a recent chapter in the Tartarus arc showed that he kind of still has a heart, so that’s why I picked him)

Freed=Ted (I just think it be funny)

Loke=The Todd (both are bit of playboys and be funny to see Loke question his sexuality) I do have others, but they’re only characters that appeared in one or two seasons so I’m not going to bother.

15. What are some musicals you put the FT cast in? (I only put this question in cause I’m a theatre geek)

Shrek the musical

Disney’s Beauty and the Beast

Hairspray

Barbie as the Princess and the Pauper

Barbie as the Island Princess

Barbie and the Diamond Castle

If you want I can tell you who I would have play each part. Some I’m still figuring out, so not all roles have been cast yet.

16. Do you cosplay or plan on cosplaying any of the characters?

I cosplay as Mira(no pictures available) and Levy which I do have pictures of on my DeviantART account. Let me know if you want to see it.

I’m gonna post it on here soon.

Now all I need is a Gajeel.

17. What are your favorite arcs?

Phantom Lord, Fighting Festival, Edolas, Tenrou Island, Key of the Starry Sky, Grand Magic Games, and Alvarez. What do they all have in common? There is focus on Gajeel in all of them. Some more than others.

18. If you could join any guild what would it be?

Fairy Tail, duh.

19. Have any FCs?

Yes,  Valerie Saline who you can learn more about here http://purplekatz93.deviantart.com/art/Fairy-Tail-OC-Bio-361202036\

http://purplekatz93.deviantart.com/art/Valerie-FT-OC-1-353209499

I even made an Edo version of her

http://purplekatz93.deviantart.com/art/Edo-Valerie-FT-OC-1-353209586

Then my next gen kids

Mckenna and Iggy (NaLu kids)http://purplekatz93.deviantart.com/art/NaLu-Kids-360992943

 http://purplekatz93.deviantart.com/art/Mckenna-Dragneel-Bio-362665020

http://purplekatz93.deviantart.com/art/Chibi-McKenna-and-Iggy-397665037

Nieve, Brendan, and Tally (Gruvia kids) http://purplekatz93.deviantart.com/art/Gruvia-Kids-360992503

http://purplekatz93.deviantart.com/art/Nieve-Fullbuster-Bio-362674059

http://purplekatz93.deviantart.com/art/Chibi-Nieve-Brendan-and-Tally-397665310

Conor and Olivia (Gajevy kids, they’re the older siblings of the canon Gajevy twins. Although they’re born years later when Conor and Olivia are much older. In my FT future they were a surprise aka they were not planned. BTW do they have names? I keep trying to look it up, but come up with nothing. The FT wiki literally has nothing about the light novel they debut in http://fairytail.wikia.com/wiki/Fairy_Tail_3:_Trouble_Twins 

Actually they have barely anything about the light novels expect for like the first one.) http://purplekatz93.deviantart.com/art/GaLe-Kids-360992447

http://purplekatz93.deviantart.com/art/Conor-Redfox-Bio-362676935

http://purplekatz93.deviantart.com/art/Olivia-Redfox-Bio-362678246

http://purplekatz93.deviantart.com/art/Chibi-Conor-and-Olivia-397664556

Matthew and Sarah (Jerza kids) http://purplekatz93.deviantart.com/art/Jerza-Kids-361673144

http://purplekatz93.deviantart.com/art/Chibi-Jerza-Kids-397664727

If you’re wondering why they look nothing like Jellal and Erza, it’s because they’re adopted. 

20. If you were a wizard what kind of magic would you use?

Singing magic, like a Siren. I would sing and hypnotize people and when there out of it, attack them.

21. What is a magic item you would like to have?

A light pen http://fairytail.wikia.com/wiki/Light_Pen  It be fun to draw/write in thin air.

22. Did you enjoy this questionnaire?

I sure did, seeing how I created it.

Oh and let me take this opportunity to talk about something else FT related.

I have the Todd Haberkorn (the Eng VA of Natsu 3 times at different cons)

Here’s proof http://purplekatz93.deviantart.com/art/I-TOLD-YOU-SO-463572927

And here’s some autographs he gave me I don’t have a picture of the third one up yet 

http://purplekatz93.deviantart.com/art/Todd-Haberkorn-Autograph-463573351

http://purplekatz93.deviantart.com/art/2nd-Todd-Haberkorn-autograph-555102329

Okay that’s all.

And please don’t mad at me for my answers.

[nicolejones412]

Colors Part 6

A Charles Xavier Soulmate AU

Pairing: Charles Xavier x reader

Read Part 1 here. Read Part 2 here. Read Part 3 here. Read Part 4 here. Read Part 5 here.

Summary: Everyone has a soulmate, and there is one color that they can’t see until they meet their soulmate, and that is the color of their soulmate’s eyes. For Charles Xavier, this is difficult, because his powers have filled in the blanks, and he can see all colors. He assumes that he’ll just know when he finds his soulmate. Should be easy for a telepath, right?

Warnings: Angst maybe? definitely, injuries, near death experience, violence

A/N: So, this won the contest! I knew I needed to post this soon, given the awful cliffhanger I left y’all with last time. Well....I’m not gonna say anything else really. Just....consider yourself warned. 

FIC:

1973 

You sighed as you stepped out of the taxi at the familiar house. You missed this place. You wanted to stay, to run back to Charles, but you couldn’t. You were here on business. You would get what you needed and leave.

You knocked on the door and waited. You knocked again. A muffled shout answered. You knocked again. A muffled shout answered. You knocked again, harder. Finally the door opened to reveal an apologetic looking Hank McCoy, whose eyes widened once he saw you.

“Hey, you gonna let me in?” Hank stepped back in shock. You entered.

“Hank, what’s wrong with you? I thought I told-” He stopped abruptly when he saw you. You could barely recognize him.

“Hello Charles.”

“Who’s this?” a stranger asked. Hank started to introduce you.

“This is-”

“Cascade,” you finished firmly. “And you are?”

“Logan,” he replied. “I’m from the future.”

“Okay...” You turned to Charles. “I’m here on business.”

“Business?” Charles asked, a bit disoriented.

“Yes, I came here to ask for your help regarding a man called Bolivar Trask. But you don’t look so good.” You kept your emotions distant, not wanting to get attached.

“What happened to you?” he asked. 

“Can’t you just read my...?” you trailed off. “The spinal treatments. You’re taking too much.” Charles sighed. 

“Um, not meaning to break up this reunion, but we’ve got to talk about Raven.”

“What about her?” you asked.

“Apparently she kills Trask,” Hank answered.

“Okay, why is that a problem?” Charles and Hank gaped at you. 

“Because that turns the humans against us once and for all, and eventually they weaponize Raven’s powers. In my time there aren’t many of us left.”

“So you want to stop her from killing Trask?” he nodded. “Alright, I’m in.”

“Seriously? Just like that?” Logan asked. You shrugged. 

“I’ve got nothing better to do.”

Charles turned to walk away. “I think I’d like to wake up now.”

“Charles!” Logan called. Charles ignored him. He almost went after him. 

“Wait,” you said. “He’ll come around.” 

He turned to Hank. “What happened to him?”

“Well, the school failed. Lots of teachers and older students got drafted. We just couldn’t keep it up. Then, you left.” He turned to you. You didn’t react. “He just let go. Said it hurt too much. Said he needed to stop the voices.” Logan looked at you. You were looking at your hands.

“So you broke his heart?”

“Pretty much,” you said nonchalantly. Then you looked up. “I guess he didn’t tell you everything.” 

Then, Charles spoke from the top of the stairs.

“I’ll help. Not for you or your future. For her.”

“Fair enough,” Logan replied. Charles avoided looking at you as you all began to discuss.

“She won’t listen to me,” Charles said. “Her heart belongs to someone else now.”

“I know,” Logan said. “That’s why we’re gonna need Magneto too.” You nearly laughed out loud

“Erik?” Hank asked. 

“You know where he is right?” you asked. 

“Yeah.” 

“He’s where he belongs,” Charles nearly growled. 

“You know why he’s there right?” you asked. Logan shook his head. 

“JFK,” Hank whispered. Logan’s eyes widened.

“Guess he left that part out,” you muttered.

“He killed Kennedy?”

“A bullet miraculously curving through the air?” Charles mocked. “Who else could that be?”

“Well, we still need him.” 

“That’s all well and good,” you said. “But breaking him out of there will be nearly impossible.”

“Maybe not,” he replied. “I know a guy.”

“You sighed as you walked through the Pentagon with Hank. “I don’t like this.”

“Yeah, well, it’s the best plan we got.” You waited for your cue and ran down the correct corridor to clear an opening should it be needed. After a few minutes you grew restless. You got to the door they should be through and saw it was bolted. You reached out, feeling the water from the sprinklers in the next room. You pulled a bunch of it together and rushed it to the locking mechanism. You got a feel for it, and a few moments later the door swung open. Everyone was talking and then turned to you. Peter looked a bit out of breath when you noticed movement out of the corner of your eye. 

One of the guards shot at Charles. 

You didn’t think, didn’t speak. Only reacted, pulling the water together in front of him, catching the bullet. 

Charles gaped at you as you dropped the bullet, walked to the guard and knocked him out. You looked up.

“Come on. Let’s go.” Erik smirked as he stepped forward. He patted you on the shoulder.

“Good to see you again.” 

When you got back on the jet, you knew a storm was brewing between Erik and Charles from the moment they sat down. You chose to stay out of it. 

“You abandoned me!” Charles yelled. “You took her away and abandoned me!”

Then the plane shook.

“Azazel. Angel. Emma. Mutant brothers and sister experimented on and killed. Where were you Charles?! Where were you?!”

“Erik!” Hank yelled. The plane started to level out. Charles looked from Erik to you then sent into the cockpit. Erik sat down.

“What’s going on between you two? I mean, being soulmates and all I expected you to be at least married by now. What? Does he not have the balls to ask?”

“He did ask.” 

“You said no?” Erik gasped.

“No. I said yes, then left a few months later.”

“Why’d you leave?”

You shrugged. Erik sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to get any more out of you. He turned to Logan.

“So, what’s your story?”

“Well, you may not believe this but I’m from the future.” Erik looked to you, and you nodded.

“Wow, that’s...okay...” You chuckled. “What?”

“At least he knows who you are.” His eyes widened. “I mean, nothing’s more comforting than the guy from the future never having heard of you, right?”

“I’m sorry,” Logan said. You shook your head.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault.”

“You seem oddly calm about this,” Erik remarked. You shrugged.

“I made my peace with death a long time ago.”

The embassy was a disaster of course. Logan collapsed. Erik tried to shoot Raven. Hank went off on Erik and got his face plastered on the news. You stood back, ready to intervene if you had to, but not wanting to draw attention to yourself.

You were pushing your luck just by letting Striker see your face. Trask had never seen you in person, but Striker had a few times. You pushed back the memories to try to get the job done. 

You went back to the mansion with Hank, Charles, and Erik. As Charles reached for his drugs and Logan tried to stop him, you knew he wasn’t listening. You hated seeing him like this, and knew he needed to snap out of it, for his own sake.

“Charles,” you said. He tore his gaze from the syringe in his hand to your eyes. He held your gaze and tears pooled in his eyes. H set the syringe down as he dropped his gaze.

“Hank, could you help me to my study please?” Hank nodded and helped his friend. Logan looked back to you.

“Thanks.” You nodded. 

You didn’t go downstairs with the others as they tried to use Cerebro. You chose to walk the halls of the house. A sort of goodbye that you didn’t have time for before. 

You ran your hand along the wood, which felt both familiar and foreign. You looked out a window toward the lake, smiling at the memory of developing your powers, then nearly drowning and Charles saving you

Your smile turned sad as you turned away.

Somehow, several minutes later, you found yourself in the spot you’d been avoiding: the balcony where Charles proposed.

The tears you’d been fighting spilled slowly. You didn’t know how long you were there before a familiar voice spoke behind you.

“Why’d you leave?” Charles asked. You sighed. “I at least deserve to know that.” 

“You’re right,” you replied, turning to face him. “But I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?” he scoffed. 

“Because I can’t! I can’t put you in this kind of danger!” Charles rolled a bit closer to you.

“Y/N, if you’re in danger, let me help. Stay I can protect you.” You laughed dryly.

“It’s a nice sentiment, Charles, but it’s not my safety I’m worried about.”

“Y/N...” He furrowed his brow. “You’re blocking me.”

“You promised you’d never read my mind without my consent.”

“And you promised you’d never leave.”

“I hate to interrupt,” Hank said, “but the jet is prepped.”

“Well, good luck,” you said.

“You’re not coming?” Hank asked. 

“I think you guys got this. And I have business to attend to.”

“Y/N...” 

“Bye Hank.”

You walked away, and Hank tried again to stop you. You didn’t stop walking.

“But-”

“Let her go Hank.” Hank stood aghast at Charles’s words. “There’s no stopping her.

They both watched as you drove off in your old car.

“She’s made her mind up.”

You drove for quite some time, not sure where you were going.

Your instincts told you to move as far from D.C. as possible.

You punched the steering wheel as you turned around, heading exactly where you needed to run from. 

You made it to D.C. just in time to see Erik drop a baseball stadium around the White House.

You cursed, slammed on the breaks, and hit the ground running. You’d originally planned on keeping a low profile, but Erik was looking to kill.

And Charles was in there. Paralyzed. 

You ran, reaching out for all the water you could, wrapping it around yourself and launching into the air.

You cushioned your fall and faced Erik. You couldn’t see Charles, but you needed to focus.

“Erik, stop this!” you demanded.

“You would defend hem? After all they’ve done to you!”

How does he know? you thought. 

“You of all people should be siding with me!”

You steeled your gaze. “That would make me no better than them.” You shot streams of water at Erik, trying to get his helmet off while blocking his attacks. 

You heard Charles shout in pain, which broke your concentration for a split second. 

And you missed a piece of shrapnel Erik shot at you which lodged itself in your abdomen.

You cried out in pain, hitting the ground as water fell around you.

You tried to stay conscious for the rest of the fight. Everything was foggy. The world came a bit more into focus as Charles yelled your name.

“Y/N!” Hank let him fall to your side.

“Did we win?” you rasped, then coughed, blood leaking from the side of your mouth.

“Yes, yes we did. Thanks to you. Now we just need to get you hoe, okay? Just hold on for me okay?”

“I...I’m...”

“Don’t try to speak.”

“I’m sorry Charles...For everything.” Tears spilled from your eyes as you gasped. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hush now. It’s alright. It’s going to be alright...Y/N?...Y/N...Y/N!”

Read Part 7 here!

Tagging:

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If you’d like to be tagged let me know! (And if I’ve tagged you and you’d like to be removed from the list, feel free to let me know as well!)

[iamjamesmatthew]

IAJM INTERVIEW w/ OSCAR JOYO (@OscarJoyo)

OSCAR JOYO INTERVIEW by Matthew James IAJM: Hey, Oscar. Before we get into this talk, I’d like to start off by having you introduce yourself to readers as well as myself. OSCAR JOYO: My name is Oscar Joyo and I'm a Chicago-based visual artist who works in both traditional and digital media.I was born in Malawi in 1992 and moved to the US less than a decade later. I was inspired by animation, video games, movies, music, and art books from the 1999 Tarzan film growing up but graduated into anime, figurative painting, and surreal art as I got older. I continue to be influenced by artists of various disciplines to this day. IAJM: Growing up who were some of the artists that inspired you? OJ: As a kid, I was inspired by artists like Akira Toriyama, Alex Ross, James Jean, Glen Keane, and Kehinde Wiley. IAJM: What makes those particular artists so inspirational to you? OJ: Sure, these artists had some strong influences on because of how they combine things together to make a new viewing experience. I also admire their rendering abilities and how well they capture realism. Akira Toriyama was my first influence with his show Dragonball z. His combination of pop culture and fighting films really caught my attention. His way of drawing character was so simple to copy of from that I drew it all the time.As a kid, every kid in my class drew Goku and Vegeta.Honestly, if it weren't for that show and the profound impact it felt on me, I wouldn't be drawing today. I then graduated to Alex Ross with his blend of classical realism and comics which was foreign to me at the time.What makes him great was how he took his passion for comics and realism seen by artists like Norman Rockwell and fused them so beautifully. Glen Keane but more specifically his work on Tarzan is another influence on me. As I got older and really dove into his process and how tedious he had to study animal and human life (keyword: study) to make his characters come to life in his work. Kehinde Wiley with his mix of classic, Renaissance art and black culture really influenced me growing up. He utilised the representational aspect of figure painting so masterfully but what sold me on him was how regal he made his subject matter.It showed the importance of an African American and within us, there is royalty. I can't fully pinpoint what I loved about James Jean but his ability to switch from pop-oriental to comic book to surreal made me want to work with various media. Funny enough, I didn't like his work until I got to college and looked through his "Rebus" book. Like Kehinde with Black culture/Renaissance, James incorporates a traditional style of Japanese paintings with a surreal/representational approach. Overall, what I love about these artists all together is their willingness to study the world around them and then combine things together. For me, it made me embrace being able to move from technique to technique.  IAJM: So now, after having your "creative fire" lit by those artists, when did you begin to take your art as a serious endeavour to pursue? OJ: I was motivated to take art seriously around the age of 15 when my high school art teachers encouraged me to pursue it. It was a huge push for me since I love art in general and knowing that I can make a career of doing what I love.

IAJM: I like the piece of work you recently created inspired by the Marvel Comics Hip Hop variant series - the Danny Brown x Incredible Hulk piece is amazing. Have you contacted anyone from Marvel Comics about officially collaborating with their variant series? OJ: Thank you very much. Haha, unfortunately, I haven't been contacted by Marvel (yet). It would be cool if they contacted me since I have additional ideas for more variant covers. IAJM: What's a typical day in the life of Oscar Joyo like? OJ: My typical day is broken up into 3 branches but simply: I get up, go to work, come back to spend time with my roommates, draw and paint, then sleep or stay up if I had too much caffeine throughout the day. B.Drawing until I can't draw anymore, drinking coffee, and researching more art C.Attempting to leave the house but stay inside because something about the drawing doesn't look right.

IAJM: What big projects do you have planned for 2017? OJ: Currently, I'm working on issue #2 of Nebula Creatives' Lab99 graphic novel, which should be out during the summer of this year. Outside of that and drawing/painting constantly, I'll be making a new body of work. More details to come once I get settled with additional ideas but for now.I'll be playing with music and art. This approach was tested on a recent drawing entitled Jungles LP1, and I plan to make more like it over the coming months.

IAJM: What can you tell us about Nebula Creatives’ Lab99? What the graphic novel about? Where can people find it? OJ: Lab99 is sci-fi graphic series mainly about a Thai woman who wants to break out of being a regular person to search for extraterrestrial life.Through her experience of doing so, we see her handle each encounter and become more in tune with alien life. Currently, we are working on the prologue, which is 3 issues about one of the key characters, who is alien and how he lost contact with his kind as he crashes into planet Earth. You can find it on   nebulacreatives.com/lab-99, if you are outside Chicago.

IAJM: Aside from working on this the comic, do you commission work? If so, where can people go to reach you? OJ: I do get commission work and I'm always open to doing more. People can always reach me through scarjoyoart.wix.com/oscar-joyo or find me on Instagram.

IAJM: Let's look ahead to the future: 5.10.15. Where do you see yourself in 5 years? 10 years? 15 years? OJ: Haha, I've thought about this quite a bit actually. Within 5 years, I want to have my MFA in studio arts or illustration. During that time I'd have a strong gallery, illustration, and web presence.I'm doing well as a freelancer and I'm able to split time as a fine artist and illustrator. In 10 years, take it even further with my presence and hope to be travelling a lot. At this point, start considering opening up a gallery or even opening up a fund for high schoolers or anyone who want to pursue art as a career. At the moment, I'm not sure what 15 years would look like but I do know it's going to be very bright for me.

IAJM: Could you describe Chicago's art scene to me? Who are some of the people that consistently putting in work, representing the city? How competitive are the artists? Do you belong to any art collectives? Who are some the artists in your area that you feel people should be paying attention to? OJ: The Chicago art scene, to me, is an expressive, colourful, and culturally accepting landscape. Even though you get to see it about it anywhere, the beauty of art in Chicago is that it transcends beyond the page. I see work by local artists' work on apparel, buildings, videos, bridges, and such which helps make this place an open canvas for creativity. People like Brandon Breaux, Max Sansing, Sam DeCarlo, Antonia McMan, Hebru Brantley, Colin Van Dan Sloujs, and many others continuously put out work to make the city better. This city is filled to the brim of creatives from different walks of life that it makes me want to be a better artist so I can leave my mark. At the moment, I'm not in any collective but I'm not against being in one.

Some other names to look out for are Conrad Javier, Kayla Mahaffey, Joe Renda, Lucas Durham, Kevin Fagaragan, Alyssa Ecarma, Matt Wojtan, and Erik Lindquist. Of course, there are a lot more around the city so I highly recommend checking their Instagram and maybe you'll discover more nearby Chicago. Trust me, there's plenty of us.

IAJM: Last question. Who are some people you would like to thank or acknowledge for supporting you over the years? Is there anyone you would like to shout-out? OJ: Yes. First, I give thanks to God for giving me a wonderful family that continue to support me wherever I go and with all that I do. It wasn't easy but I'm extremely grateful for their tireless love. My inspiring friends, professors, and colleagues from my alma mater, American Academy of Art, my friends and extended family around South Bend, Chicago and especially the ones all over the world who have been on my side. People who have followed my work for a while and have seen my progress. Huge shout out to Eric, Kane, Kevin, Peter, Stacie, Tyler, and Natasha for being weird and teaching me more lessons that I put to use every day (sorta). Most importantly, Bruna, Nyame, Mary, and Steve for really getting me into art.I don't what you saw in me but thank you so much.I wouldn't be here without you all. 

[promomagazine]

Interview-Photographer Paul Davis

Do you agree that you are challenged everyday to create something that has never been created before?

I would rephrase that and say that I feel like I am challenged to create something that is totally different from what I’ve done before. I constantly challenge myself to try new things and push myself in different directions. I think most new artwork is influenced and inspired by the work of those who came before and I’d never presume to say that my work has never been done or tried before.

I try to read and keep myself open to new influences and ideas.  I will usually see, hear or read something that sparks an idea. I’ll find myself returning to that  idea and at that point I’ll sketch it or write it down in a notebook that I carry that I call my “idea orphanage”. I’ll save these ideas until the time is right to adopt it. Adoption in this case means that I’ve found a way to push the project forward - which could mean finding the right model, getting access to a location or discovering the right wardrobe - and make it a reality.

At that point I start building out a team and I create detailed planning documents to help make sure that the wardrobe stylist and MUAH team members are all pulling in the same direction. I’ll often ask for their input and their suggestions during this phase because often they have ideas that improve on my original thinking.

   When we get to the day of the shoot I’ve tried hard to take care of all of the details so we can just focus on shooting and having fun and creating something special.

The one constant in my creative process is that I’m plagued with the feeling that everything is falling apart. Over time I’ve found if I just keep pushing forward that at some point things start to fall together. I live for that moment. I get excited when I feel the project turn that corner and I start to see how it’s going to work out.

What do you look for when creating a shoot and does your shoot lineup with what you expected?

I don’t have a formula that I follow but I do ask myself one question for every creative project and that is this:  “What is one thing I could do that would give this project a twist or that would make the viewer look again.”  It could be an unexpected object, an unusual color or texture or a sense of movement - anything that just might reset the viewer and make them take a moment to look a little longer.

My shoots never line up with the vision I originally had in my head. That used to bother me a lot. I compensated by trying to be a meticulous planner but I learned somewhere along the way that that is often where the fun and creativity happens. As the team works together every project takes it’s on a life of it’s own. You have a vision for the photo but then maybe the model does something different than what you were asking for you and you realize she’s interpreting your direction in her own style and that leads to a possibility  you didn’t anticipate or imagine.

Sometimes things don’t work like you hoped but many times they turn out far better than you had expected. For me that journey to find those possibilities along the way is what adds the fun and creativity  of a shoot.

I try and plan very carefully because I always want to make the most of the time we have with the team but I try not to be tied down to the plans so that if the shoot takes a different, better direction then I’m open to embracing and capturing that.

Do you have a favorite artist in mind that drives your creativity or inspires you, who is it?

Well for me I would say that Erik Almas is a photographer who always inspires me. I love his work and how he merges flawless execution with a big vision to create these amazing images. He’s really known for shooting flowing fabrics and things in a beautiful way and I’m always inspired by his work.

Jason Bell blows me away with his portrait work - I really love a lot of what he does. I love his touch and his sense of subtlety with his lighting.  Annie Leibovitz’s group portraits always leave me sad because I know I’ll never attain that level. Benjamin Von Wong inspires me with a lot of his creative concepts.

How would you describe yourself as a person & artist?

Well I enjoy laughing and I like to have a good time on set. I don’t take myself too seriously because I want people to enjoy the process of working together and I want everyone to be proud of what we do. That said when it’s time to get down to business I want to make the most of the time we have for every shoot so I’m organized and I try hard to plan carefully. As an artist I lean toward dramatic themes and clothing. Rich, ornate, dark, gothic clothing and makeup are always exciting to me. I hate to admit it but I like spectacle and making a scene bigger than life.

How did you know you wanted to be a photographer?

Well looking back it’s easier to see now than it was at the time. In high school and college I kept manilla folders of photos that I had torn out of fashion and advertising magazines. I don’t know why I did that but I would save them and try and draw them or I would just go through and look at them occasionally.

Later after I had picked up a camera and started trying to learn how to use it, I got to go and help out on a couple of photo shoots and I fell in love with the whole process of creating interesting photos and working with other people to do it. The more I saw of it all the more I wanted to be part of it.

Do you have a favorite designers who inspire you? Alexander McQueen is the guy that comes to mind first.

Why is that?  Everything is over top and creates a spectacle. There is a lot of detail and lot to see in his work. I love a lot of what he’s done and I always find myself drawn to his style.  

 What was the main reason that you decided to become a photographer?

I wanted to spend more time with my father. My father is a photographer and he had bought a Nikon D200 digital DSLR and he liked to drive southern Arizona taking pictures. We would drive around exploring ghost towns and graveyards together and there was something about the photography that resonated deep, down inside.

Later, as I started photographing people, I found that really enjoyed meeting and working with people and teams. I just felt like it fit me because I’ve always been more comfortable organizing and observing from the fringes rather than trying to stand in the spotlight. The more I did it the more I enjoyed it and I get a lot of personal satisfaction knowing guiding a project to completion.

I had seen photos of this playa in Wilcox, Arizona a while back. It’s so expansive, flat and dramatic that I had thought for a long time that it would be a great location for a photo shoot.  I wanted to shoot outdoors with some beautiful dresses that would be enhanced by contrasting with this beautiful, stark place.

I contacted Esteban and his fall line of clothing seemed like a perfect fit. His latest collection has not only some of the longer, flowing dresses but the textures and colors seem to lend themselves very well to that landscape.

To be a photographer, you had to undergo a lot of struggles. What was the most difficult obstacle for you when putting together a shoot?

For me, being based out of Tucson, Arizona, it’s generally finding clothing and a good wardrobe stylist. I don’t have access to the resources I would if I were in LA or NY. If I can get the clothing worked out  then almost everything else just comes together.

My personal life absolutely impacts my photo shoots. I am a husband and a father so I end up planning shoots around those obligations first. I don’t have a set schedule per se but I do plan ahead to make it work with all of my other obligations.

How is your style of photography different from any other photographers?

I’ll be honest and say I don’t really know. I’m still working to create a style and find my own voice. I’ll leave it others to define my style and how I might be different.

What are your world-dominating goals?

I don’t have a world dominating goal in that sense of the question. First and foremost, I want to be a good husband and father. After that my goals are to work as hard as I can to become the best photographer I can be and to be known as both a professional and as an artist. Success to me is being able to shoot more of the subjects and themes that I enjoy with people that I respect and enjoy working with. I want to keep learning and pushing myself to never be satisfied or sticking with what is comfortable. I think if I do those things then the rest will take care of itself.