#plus i do have some art plans that i want to tackle in the new year
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rthidden · 4 months ago
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AI-dios, Old Problems: Automate to Innovate
Tired of playing content marketing whack-a-mole?
Say hello to smart strategies ensuring more fans and fewer headaches for your small business.
Why it matters
Content is king, but consistency is the crown.
For small business owners, mastering the art of automation is like launching a secret weapon—saving time while still hand-delivering originality.
Imagine having an army of virtual assistants ready to tackle tasks so you can focus on the bigger picture, like finally attempting that viral TikTok dance.
The big picture
We live in a time where 71% of B2B content marketers rely on some kind of content creation magic (Content Marketing Institute, 2023). You don’t want to be the last one standing at the mailing list party with only duct-taped business cards in hand.
Adopt these AI strategies now, and watch your audience—and ROI—grow.
Overheard at the water cooler
"Dude, I heard my virtual assistant can write blog posts. Next step, AI therapy sessions?"
By the numbers
As of 2023, 66% of marketers expect a bigger budget next year (HubSpot). For businesses already invested in content, 90% plan to maintain or up their spending come 2024 (HubSpot).
Investing in AI is like prepping for Black Friday deals—it's strategic budgeting, not wishful thinking. Plus, more resources for sweet assignments like delegating holiday card designs to your dog.
The bottom line
Stop letting creative burnout and a never-ending to-do list be your only business partners.
Embrace that AI is here to tango with tasks so you can boogie on to new horizons, like solving your problems (thanks, Pat Flynn!) and becoming a legend in your niche.
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stars-n-spice · 6 months ago
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Trying something new!
I'm going to attempt to post something Silly Squad related - be it headcanons, one shots/fics, or art - every Saturday! Because Silly Squad Saturday has a nice ring to it and it eases into OC Sunday pretty nicely :)
That and I want to try and motivate myself to do more with these guys because I post about like,, 10% of the collective lore I have about them while the rest of the 90% stays up in my brain.
So welcome and hello to the first-ever Silly Squad Saturday!
We're kicking off with some excerpts from the first chapter of fics I have planned for them and the Bad Batch (plus the headers for the fics)!
Each fic is dedicated to either Jung, Viram, Khea, or Tay and goes into detail about their lives before meeting the Bad Batch, their families, and what lead them to finding a home with our boys :)
Enjoy!
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A forgotten relic of a fallen religion.
Jung can remember the fire. 
The blinding lights of red and gold. Of blue fury. Of an indescribable heat that could only be described as pure and utter hatred; burning hotter than the brightest stars.
He remembers the smell of smoke that followed from that fire. That sickly haze that still haunts him like a ghost and suffocates him in the silence of the night and his mind.
He remembers the weight of his saber in his hands. How the once familiar cool of metal felt heavier than any burden he’d once carried, suddenly foreign during a time he so desperately needed it to protect like it was designed to do. 
But worse than the sight of the flames, the smell of the smoke, and the weight so heavy in his hands were the sounds of screams. 
Of cries that pierced the night. Calls of confusion. Of desperations, betrayal, and fury. Sounds that should have never echoed against the Temple walls. Sounds that would now forever echo inside Jung’s head. 
Jung could remember it all. 
The sound of sudden blaster fire. The relentless pursuit of a blue blade radiating pure anger and fear. The sight of dozens of familiar helmets hiding what had once been men behind visors that only reflected the terrified faces of children and the desperation in those called upon to protect them. 
Those like Jung. 
In robes of hold and white, with intricate masks to hide his face. White to surrender his identity. Gold for knowledge and commitment to the Order. And a mask–like the rest of them–to conceal what had once been a person. 
Jung had served his Order well. After all, he knew of no other life. No other path. No other name. Nothing but white and gold robes, a mask, and a pike in his hands. He’d done his part, but nothing could have prepared him for the day that the Order fell. 
Everything he had known–everything he once was–fell away to fire and smoke from a blade wielded by one of their own and blaster bolts from their own army. 
A religion, millenniums in the making, nearly completely destroyed overnight.
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A medic who helps everyone but herself.
Since Viram could remember, she wanted to help people. 
As the oldest of four, she’d always been in charge and had the responsibilities of looking after her siblings and taking care of them. She cooked, she cleaned, she made sure they did their academy work and stayed out of trouble. With her parents out more often than not, Viram assumed the role of ‘mom’ and ‘dad;’ growing up much faster than those her age. But it was okay, at least to Viram it was, because she understood it was something that had to be done. 
And while some would crumble under the weight of expectations, Viram thrived. There wasn’t anything the Mikkian couldn’t tackle and everything she did–she did it to honor her parents. 
Her father was a well-renowned doctor while her mother was an inspiring teacher, and Viram respected and admired them from the very start. They were the perfect picture of an Inner and Mid Rim family. Well off and respected, her parents were shining lights in their communities that were constantly helping those in need with their skills and talents. Viram so desperately wanted to be like them. 
So, she did what she could to follow in their footsteps. She excelled in school and at home she looked after her siblings when her parents worked late. Some might’ve pitied her and thought she was forced into her duties and dreams by her parents, but Viram didn’t care or listen to them. It was her life, and she wanted it to be just like her parents’: 
Perfect. 
Well at least, Viram thought that was how it was and would forever remain. 
For a good part of her life though, that’s how life was. She graduated with honors, watched her siblings grow up and follow their own dreams, and she started to work under her father and learn his practice. She had studied to become a medic at the academy on Coruscant and as soon as she had graduated, she took everything she had learned to her father and started to learn even more from him out on the field. 
She could finally help people in the way that she forever had wished that she could, with every wound treated, every assessment diagnosed, every bandage so delicately placed, Viram was achieving her dreams. Everything was perfect. 
And then the war started.
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A little starbird with no way back home.
Khea wished she couldn’t remember her roots. 
She wished the beskar she wore wasn’t her own, that her tongue didn’t speak foreign words and her mind didn’t know ancient legends and myths. Khea wished that the blood in her veins didn’t burn bright like the fires in the Great Forge and that the last name she carried wasn’t shared with any clan. She wished that everything she ever was and everything that came before her would fade to stardust and leave her with a blank slate.  
Because to be a Nultez was to be a wanderer. To be a Nultez was to be cursed to forever be…
Lost. 
Her father started the curse, when he left Chandrila to escape an ancient tradition, only to find himself as a lowly performer in a traveling circus until he met her mother. Her mother then shared the curse when she decided to marry him and take his last name–leaving her clan to start her own and finding love and life outside of Mandalore. Then they gave it to their children–Jovaz, Khea, and Mitcan. 
Jovaz Nultez, the zealot. Khea Nultez, the wander. And Mitcan Nultez, the dreamer.
Siblings bound together by a last name, but not bound to stay together.
A destiny that was decided before they were even born, fate woven into the stars; something so out of Khea’s control yet something she felt at fault for every waking day and every sleepless night. Because she had made promises to her brothers: To Jovaz, she promised that she would always stick with him–no matter what. To Mitcan, she promised she wouldn’t leave him–that she wouldn’t let him down. 
But when Jovaz came to her, speaking of honor and ancient ways, asking her to join him and run away from all they’d ever known–she couldn’t bring herself to go with him. What he spoke of was something she couldn’t stomach and like a coward she refused and let him go down a dark path, leaving her with guilt and the new burden of being the oldest child. 
It was a guilt that was haunting, one that pushed her to try and bring him back, only for her to break her promise to Mitcan in the meantime. 
She hadn’t planned on it, but Mitcan wanted to go with her to bring their brother back. For a few years they searched for him and when they finally found him–Khea broke her promise to Mitcan. She couldn’t protect him. Couldn’t save Jovaz from himself. Couldn’t be the big sister Mitcan saw her as. She let Mitcan down–and it led him to his death. 
Khea wishes she never made those promises, but they weren’t the only promises she had made.
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A merciless merc all caught up in strings.
Tay doesn’t remember much from his past–and that was probably a good thing. 
He didn’t know exactly how he ended up in The Cauldron–a colosseum that had always felt so giant and grand to him when it should’ve been seen for what it was; a cage. He couldn’t remember how he–a chagrian with nothing to his name– found his only home to be one of cages and chains. 
However, as he got older, he had his theories. Theories that all boiled down to one obvious claim: his parents–whoever they were–didn’t care about him enough to keep him. Instead, all he was to them was a quick paycheck, sold to slavers who took him away to the colosseum to train and fight until the inevitable day he died a gruesome death in the name of entertainment and credits. 
And maybe he should’ve died a gruesome death the first time he was put into a match once he was old enough, but he was determined to prove something. He was determined to prove he was more than what was assumed of him. To prove to his bastard parents he was more than a paycheck–wherever they were. To prove he deserved every right to exist in the galaxy like the rest of them. 
So he fought. He fought and he won. Again and again.
And the cheers and praise that came once he’d won his debut match? They were addicting. 
It didn’t take Tay long to thrive off the attention and acknowledgement that came with winning matches. Suddenly he was more. He had a purpose. And to the young, cocky chagrian, it felt an awful lot like respect. But most importantly, it felt like love. 
The people loved him. They couldn’t get enough of him. Every fight. Every opponent. Every win. Tay was addicted to the crowds and they were addicted to him. 
Tay brought crowds. He brought in money. He was more than anyone who had bought him could’ve imagined. That’s because more than a fighter, Tay was a performer. He could put on a show. He had learned how to capture the audiences with his natural charm and it wasn’t long before his ‘holders’ began to see use for him in areas outside of the ring. After all, there were a lot who would pay a pretty credit or two to be up close and personal with Tay’kaa, the reigning champ Chagrian...
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If you enjoyed what you read and would like to be notified when the chapters are officially published - feel free to join the tag list! Just let me know in this post, dms, or fill out this form!
If you're new to the squad; check out these links to learn more about them: 💫 Silly Squad Masterlist 💫 Baddies Batch Masterlist 
Thank you so much for reading!! 🩵💫
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peace-coast-island · 1 year ago
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Diary of a Junebug
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Quilts, knits, and the art of letting go of those who only see an idealized version of you
The dangerous thing about fiber arts is that when you get into one thing, it’s almost inevitable that you’ll want to try another, then another, and another. Some things you really like, others, you’ve tried it and thought maybe this isn’t your thing. Depending on how much you plan to get out of a certain craft, it can end up being sort of costly, not in terms of $$, but in terms of materials. I’ve seen people with a huge yarn stash that there’s even a saying about how they’ll never get through all their yarn in their lifetime!
This event involves two crafts, knitting and quilting. It’s also a collaboration between Daisy Jane and Jamila for a special fall/winter collection. Almost exactly one year ago, Jamila opened up her shop, Patchwork Knits, which for now mostly sells knit and quilting patterns. In the near future though, Jamila hopes to expand with things like hand-dyed yarn, fabric, and various notions for sewing and knitting.
So far, Jamila really been killing it with her knitting patterns. I fell in love with her Cozy Cardi as soon as I saw the pics she posted on her socials and just had to make it. It’s one of those patterns where I want to make a lot of them in different colors because the style is so classic and can go with a lot of different outfits.
Never have I been so proud of a project like this one. The construction’s the kind where you start with the neckband and then pick up for the body. Since the button band’s worked on as you go in smaller needles than the body, it can get a little fiddly to work with, especially in the beginning. It took me some time to get used to, but in the end. It wasn’t so bad. And I think it kept things a bit interesting when I got to the body.
And instead of stockinette, it’s in half-Fisherman’s rib, a stitch that I’ve grown to like. Sure, it can be slow growing since your rows are basically in half. And it’s ribbing, which can get tedious sometimes. But, at least for me, half-Fisherman’s engaging enough that it doesn’t feel like a drag. Plus, I really like how the fabric turns out. I definitely don’t mind doing more projects with half-Fisherman’s rib.
As for full Fisherman’s rib or brioche, I don’t know if I’m ready to tackle those yet. I’ve heard that they’re real yarn eaters, which means they’re even slower growing. Yeah, I don’t know how I feel about that yet. I do want to tackle them in the future, but maybe not for something like a sweater or cardigan, at least not anytime soon. I have seen some patterns with brioche that caught my eye, but with the fact that they use fingering yarn - meaning tiny stitches that’ll take even longer to make progress on - I think I need to slowly build my courage. The last thing I want is to become discouraged in the middle of a project, especially one that I put so much time and effort into.
Right now, I’m working on a Cozy Cardi for my mom, as well as another one of Jamila’s patterns, the Warm Spring Days cardigan for myself. Since my mom’s birthday is coming up in two months, this project will take priority. Plus, Warm Spring Days is meant for the warmer season, so it’ll be a while before I get to wear it. So far, both are going well. I just separated the sleeves and body for my mom’s cardigan, and am slowly making my way shaping the back of Warm Spring Days.
The thing about Jamila’s knitting patterns is that they look simple and classic, the kinds of things that most people would consider staples in their wardrobe. What makes her stand out is the construction of her patterns and the techniques she uses to shape her garments. It’s also a plus that she’s size inclusive and seriously takes the time to make sure that her patterns work for all different kinds of body types. Although she’s a new designer, she’s already seriously making waves in the community!
Based on my personal experiences with Jamila’s patterns, her designs are engaging enough that it sort of challenges you to step out of your comfort zone while being straightforward enough that once you get the hang of what’s going out, it’s easy to turn into a mindless, meditative knit. Though most of her garments look simple, it’s the little details that make her designs stand out and makes the process of making them more fun. Simple, timeless, and basic can be good.
Edie’s mainly working as sort of an assistant with things like tech editing, proofreading, and doing occasional admin stuff. She says she doesn’t mind being an official one when the business really takes off as it would be nice to have something consistent on the side. While she can support herself on music and writing alone, it’s nice to have something else to fall back on if she can’t do either for whatever reason.
Although I’ve been mostly talking about knitting, Jamila’s quilt designs aren’t meant to be slept on. It’s just that I don’t know too much about quilting as the hobby seems kinda intimidating to me. I’ve always liked the idea of using leftover material to make something like a patchwork quit, which is really probably the only reason I would get into quilting.
It’s just that there’s a lot of bits and pieces and steps when it comes to quilting, so I’m afraid of my project looking wonky or off. With sewing in general, there’s a lot more stuff and equipment you have to handle, as well as measurements not behind as forgiving. Especially when it comes to garments, sewing them takes more work than knitting.
So far, quilting isn’t as intimidating as I thought. Though, I’m sticking to small and simple projects where if I make mistakes, it won’t ruin the whole thing. I don’t think it’s something I’ll pick up often, but it is fun and satisfying to put these fabric scraps to good use.
However, I am working on making a patchwork quilt. It’s just that I want it to be strictly fabric scraps rather than going out and getting material specifically for that. It’s gonna be a long term project, just like my granny square blanket. With all the fabric I’ve accumulated over the years, I’m hoping it’ll be kinda like a scrapbook but in quilt form. I think my fabric scraps will be able to make something cohesive looking. I mean, I had all kinds of yarn for my granny square blanket and it ended up looking nice and colorful. So it’ll be something that I’ll work on occasionally whenever I feel like it and I’m excited to see how it turns out.
The event kinda also serves as a test run for some future patterns Jamila’s working on, as well as give her an idea on what to include when she starts putting together kits. We also did some experimenting with dying fibers - nothing much, but just to get an idea of it. She hasn’t gotten the materials yet, which makes sense because dyeing seems expensive and takes quite a bit of work, so it’s a good opportunity to do some tests to see if that’s something she wants to do in the future.
So far, I’d say it’s been going well. Jamila’s not entirely sold on the yarn she used as a sample, though the results came out good. She has other samples to test out and we have plenty of time. At least she knows now that hand dyed yarn is definitely something she wants to dive deeper into. Nothing set in stone yet, but it’s something to look forward to when the time comes.
Edie’s been in better spirits now that a weight has been lifted off her family’s shoulders. Although her father hasn’t been really a part of her adult life, he was always hanging over her and her siblings. The way she put it, he’s not a bad guy, just someone who’s expects too much and only sees you as potential instead of who you actually are. Those kinds of people can be conflicting.
A couple months ago he died unexpectedly and left a will to his kids. Basically, the will he left behind says a lot about how he sees his family. At least, how he thinks they should be. It’s no wonder that Edie and her siblings can’t rely on him. Truth is, they’re actually relieved that he’s gone.
According to Edie, her mother says that her father struggled with dissatisfaction. He was an intelligent, hard working person who was forced to grow up quickly, so he kinda became resentful that his siblings were given opportunities he was never able to get for himself. That was part of the reason why he placed such high expectations on his kids.
Sure, a lot of parents are like that. Well, maybe most of them aren’t as resentful as he was, but it’s understandable that they only want what’s best for their kids. But the issue is, how do they really know what’s best for their kids? Is it based on the kids themselves, or is it self projection? Even with parents who mean well, the line between what they want and what their kids want can be blurred.
At least most parents try to communicate with their kids and know how to admit when they’re wrong. Mistakes happen and we get blinded by our own wishes and aspirations. Sometimes we just have to take a step back and admit that we don’t always know what’s best - for ourselves and for others. We may not see eye to eye on some things - and maybe we never will - but at least we could try to make an effort to communicate and understand each other.
Unfortunately, some people refuse to be understanding. They see you struggling and find something to blame it on instead of addressing the real problem, which is usually more complicated than “X is bad, and it’s you’re fault, and that’s why you’re having this problem.” They shut you down whenever they feel like it, and then complain that you don’t know how to stand up for yourself. You do something that you’re proud of and they respond with indifference, even outright dismissing or insulting you because they’re just not interested.
Being the third born, Edie knew that she was gonna disappoint her father no matter what. He insisted that no one was interested in her music and her writing, dismissing everything just like he did to her older sisters. He made her second guess all her decisions and question whether she deserved to have good things happen to her. At least with her younger siblings, he was kinda like fuck it, like he expected them to disappoint him too.
The biggest thing about him though is that he just blatantly lies about his kids. Like with Edie’s second oldest sister, he told people that she wasn’t married because she has a wife instead of a husband. He told people that Edie’s music wasn’t worth checking out due to her lack of talent, sort of implying that Edie bought her views to make herself look good, which obviously isn’t true. And him sort of implying that Clanwing had ulterior motives to have Rolly and Easton become friends, which is completely baseless and pretty insulting.
I mean, it’s fine if you don’t approve of how your kids are living their lives, but don’t go around spreading misinformation and then shut others down when they call you out on your bullshit. That’s just on a whole different level of low.
No wonder Clanwing doesn’t like the guy. Edie said her father had very high expectations for Easton since he was the only son. But when it turned out that Easton was born missing a limb, he seemed ashamed. Well, that’s shitty of him. At least by the time Easton came around he had distanced himself as a parent to the point that Easton honestly sees him as more of a distant relative who you kinda stay out of their way rather than a father. I’d say it’s a good thing.
Then Easton befriended Rolly, and suddenly his father was a bit more interested in him. By that, he was really only interested in Kent Clanwing. The Clanwing head might have his own glaring issues on the high expectations he sets for his family and the pressure he puts on them for not being like him, but at least he’s not as two faced and dismissive as Edie and Easton’s father.
As for him being two faced, the way he treated Anissa after her stroke is a good example of that. Anissa was one of the few friends who he approved of, though he didn’t like it when she talked back. Meaning, whenever he said something rude about one of his kids in front of her and Jamila, Anissa will respond by saying something nice about them. She was one of the few who didn’t hesitate to call him out on his bullshit, and maybe he kinda respected that as he still would compare her favorably against his own kids. But then she had the stroke and he didn’t hesitate to make fun of her behind her back. So that pretty much says a lot about him.
As for the will he left behind, the terms he set are pretty ridiculous. He didn’t have much to leave behind, but it is pretty significant - as in the amount of money, not so much the real value of it. He really told one of his daughters that she can only get her share of his inheritance if she break up with her wife and marry a respectable gentleman. Uh, not gonna happen. For Edie and a couple of her sisters, he basically told them to give up the lives they have now and follow his instructions or else they won’t get anything. And for the younger ones, it’s pretty much the same - give up what makes you you, and be the person I wanted you to be, even if it contradicts everything about you. Yikes.
Obviously, they’re not following these terms. It’s not like they need the money, so that’s not the issue. Yeah, it’s…I don’t know how to put it…disrespectful? This guy really thought he could control his kids from the dead because he’s their father and they have to do what he says. Except most of them are grown now and are living their own lives with no input from him whatsoever. He was never involved to begin with, so why did he think he could take control now?
Edie wrote about the whole thing on her blog as it was unfolding, mainly just to look back on how ridiculous the whole thing was. Again, she wasn’t mindlessly hating on her father, more like trying to figure out what kind of a person he was. Maybe he had good intentions but he was too blinded by the idea of potential that he failed to see what was in front of him. Either way, she’s long accepted that she can’t change who he is, the same way he couldn’t change who she is.
The way people are is often a mystery. But I guess in most cases, we’ll never really know or understand. I think it makes sense, seeing that we don’t always understand ourselves.
Read on AO3
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jikookpancakes · 4 years ago
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JIKOOK FIC RECS that no one asked for (2021)
but im giving anyway because THE TALENT IN THIS FANDOM IS INSANE
long post incoming!! this is probably just part 1 because i wont stop reading anytime soon so i’m inserting that link just in case i do make another one in the future
What’s a Soul Really Worth, Anyway? by thisneedsmorefilth - 130k words, fantasy, demon!jm, witch!jk, listen, this and the next one are my top 2 jikook fics of all time, so well-written, plot so exciting legit reads like a book, better than a lot of books tbh, the world-building is INSANE, jungkook and the gang accidentally summon demon!jimin and chaos ensue, especially for jungkook...and you know why!!!, so funny, angsty, cried so much, happy ending but listen to me: you gotta read the sequel too, YOU GOTTA.
Militat Omnis Amans: The Beginnings by edaen - 92k words, fantasy, werewolf!jk, vampire!jm, forbidden love, super slow burn but super worth it, JIKOOK IN THIS IS MY FAVORITE JIKOOK IN ANY FIC EVER EVER EVER, this is the ultimate all or nothing will freeze hell over for the other kind of love, and the way this is written is just so... how do i describe it. like you can just tell the author wanted to be very realistic with their feelings. you’ve seen the word count, this is SLOW burn. like you will legit feel their struggle to just be able to love each other and while it hurts, it’s also SO GLORIOUS. i love this one so much and if you like reading angst with happy ending but like cranked up to 200% then read this. bonus feels if you read the whole series
Until Dawn (series) by edaen - this is the long series where the previous one above is part of. highly rec if you love fantasy and you wanna read about bts being a rag tag group of supernatural beings fighting evil yay. also it makes the above fic more satisfying because you see more of jikook just being tgt and in love (with bonus angst because of course)
7 Signs by NamHyora - 27k words, secret spies au, abo, alpha!jk, omega!jm who is always used as a raven in their operations aka they use jimin and his attractive self to attract people and gather information or acquire targets and all that spy stuff, and his bestie alpha jk is not too happy about it hehe, friends to lovers, iove this one so much i wish it was longer but i think the author is planning to write a sequel!
Drop Like Confetti by annie_vi - 110k words, ceo!jk, age difference, age swap, ahhh i love this fic so much cause jimin smart and mature and has this no bs attitude, and he can keep up with jk despite the age gap and the difference in status/experiences, jk sexy dilf in this one eheh, i love it cause the drama/angst tackles a very real concern for such couples, like there’s no angst just for the sake of having angst, it really makes sense where they’re both coming from, they’re so whipped for eo too so love that for me
Fold it Up Like Origami by annie_vi - 99k words, gamer!jk, model!jm, same author as above and jk is so boyfriend goals in this one and in all this author’s fics in general like wow my standards are so high now i will legit be single forever just reading jikook fics (with no regrets), secret relationship due to their celeb status, well-written as usual, dialogues/banter in this author’s fics are just YES
The Tournament by kinkmins - 34k words, prince!jm, bodyguard!jk, abo, i’ll paste part of the summary here “Prince Jimin gets ready to hold a tournament where 50 alphas compete for a chance to court him, his father the king hires a new bodyguard who is a little too blunt and a little too talkative.“, i really love this oneeeee
Screwed Up and Brilliant by annie_vi - 113k words, escort!jk, jimin needed a date for a work event and in comes jungkook, escort extraordinaire with a no sex rule and jimin is just dasdkjfhasl, a lot of that “is this real or is he just acting” kinda angst, fluff smut angst
Like Everything Glows by annie_vi - 180k words, merman!jm, aquatic vet!jk, ok this is like my 4th rec from this author just read all their fics you’re welcome, this is their first fantasy fic but soso good, i rec’d this to someone who doesn’t really read fics and she really loved it and said “their love is so pure hhh”, she’s right
Track one: I love you by honeydice - 30k words, they’re “just” best friends, lots of pining it hurts, there’s some yoonmin and mentioned past jinmin in this so just noting in case, angst, denial of feelings, siiiiigh
InYou by edaen - 4k words, pwp :), abo, the morning after jikook mating, more sexytimes ensue + fluff
Falling For You Again by Rose_gold715 - 30k words, amnesia au, jk forgets about jimin and idk just something about this hits right in the feels. btw i don’t support the jk hated jm before in real life agenda so i don’t like this fic for that reason but i like this fic because i love me some good painful angst with happy ending.
The President’s Son by AmeliaBedelia - 55k words, bodyguard!jk, president’s son!jm, jk is assigned to shadow jm bc his life is under threat, and things develop :), jm is jk’s gay awakening :) :)
A Touch of Sin by pettey - 102k words, fantasy au, police officer!jk, supernatural!jm, shamanism, LOOK AT THE RANGE OF JIKOOK WRITERS YALL, this is such an interesting concept, so different from every other fic i’ve read, really well-written, sometimes you come across fics and you cant help but go “someone out there rly blessing me with this art for free”
Tears to the Tide by haromame - 65k words, abo, alpha!jk, omega!jm, honestly there’s not a lot of abo elements it’s focused more on jungkook having ptsd as he just came from war, established relationship jikook, he comes back home to jimin and things have just... changed. except their love ok THEY LOVE EO SO MUCH this made me cry so f much ugh so good tho.
Zero Hour by edaen - 5k words, canon compliant, a little drabble based around rosebowl jikook, it’s part of a series/collection of canon compliant jikook so if you’re looking for more canon compliant here you go!!, also if you can’t tell already i tend to like several things from a single author, i haven’t read their other fics im legit saving for sad days but i am confident enough to say their other fics are also rec-worthy.
Wonder by wordcouture - 7k words, im sorry in advance, mcd :( pls take care of yourself, i don’t like sad endings ok i don’t, but this is so popular and i was like, ok let’s see what the hype is all about, i get it now, :((((((((((((((((((((, well-written tho, bc the author will manage to crush your heart in just 7k words ha ha
The Omega Revolution by PinkBTS  - 158k words, abo, alpha!jk omega!jm, dystopian au, the hunger games more specifically mockingjay vibes, angst with happy ending but there’s some...things... lost along the way and i think that’s realistic for a dystopian war au, well-written
Blind Switch - 226k words, jockey!jk, rich spoiled brat!jm, jm gets exiled to his grandparents ranch where he meets jk yeehaw, im sorry for the yeehaw, anyway fluff smut angst enemies friends to lovers hurt/comfort slow burn happy ending, all the good stuff, ugh jk so boyfriend goals, also the amount of fluff in the later chapters thank u writer
Finally by Rose_gold715 - 12k words, abo, alpha!jk, omega!jm, angst with happy ending, jikook mate out of convenience and jimin runs away from jk and his pack feeling unloved and outcasted, but jungkook goes after him :((
Park Jimin’s Guide to Good Housekeeping by Ashlyn17 - 235k words, fantasy au, when i say jikook has the best fic writers i mean jikook has the best fic writers because THE WORLD-BUILDING in this one?, THE PLOT TWIST?, yesyesyes, jungkook is a powerful fae and jimin is assigned to be his housekeeper hehe, listen my entire fic rec has several that could be great netflix shows and this is definitely one of them
A Spell That Reminds Me of Your Name by Chimneycricket - 42k words, wizards!au, enemies to friends to lovers and the development felt natural, well-written plus the author sometimes makes art of their fics and other jikook fics and posts on twitter, both their fics and art are so good, i’ve heard good stuff about their other fics too :)
that’s it for now!
just a quick one about my preferences: idc about tops/bottoms, i read just about anything but i prefer fantasy and multi-chaptered fics, i love established relationship jikook so hmu with recs anytime, i don’t like reading anything with cheating and mcd, i love fics where jk and jm are just so friggin in love they are just IT for eo, and at the end of the day even if there are elements to the fics i wouldn’t normally read, as long as they’re well-written then i’m all for it
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mrpenguinpants · 4 years ago
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Albedo HCs: Coming Home [Christmas Celebration 🎉]
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For the Christmas Celebration Requests, please read this [we have 2 more days but I’ll possibly extend the deadline to Jan 10. I’m tackling all the Mondstadt rq first before moving onto Liyue]
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Ohhh, I love idea a lot (might have gone overboard anon haha). No worries about being specific, I love getting specific requests. I just finished a super depressing fic and I’m back at it again. Though I will do my best to make this one happy because that Mona fic hurt me. But I’m glad to hear you love my writing haha 💕💕
I also know nothing about Albedo and have never written this man in my life but I’m going to ignore everything because these are happy hours. I love his man so much so this is some self-indulgent stuff (if you couldn’t tell from the word count) istg hcs have turned into fics just without the dialogue. I took many liberties lol what the hell is formatting?  
Also, shoutout to @asheseiler​​​ A beautiful human being that started chatting with me because we both love Childe haha. But seriously, I appreciate you 💕💕💕
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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.
@hanniejji​​​​​  @mikeysbike​​​​​ @unionwitch​​​​ @musekala​​​​ @twistedsunnshiii​​​ @stanzastic​​​ @akaasea​​​ @xoneaboveallx​​​ @adoring-ghost​​​ @asheseiler​​​ @childelover​​
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Albedo HCs: Coming Home
As you finally reached the hill top by the Stone Gate, you could just make out the stone walls of the City of Freedom in Mondstadt. You were almost there and the butterfly’s racing through your stomach only seemed to fly faster. You had been on a long trip away by travelling between Liyue and Inazuma. From practicing your alchemy to finding new secrets, it had been awhile since you last saw Mondstadt. While it had been fun going from place to place and seeing all the new arts and techniques, you couldn’t stop the feeling of loneliness of not having an occasionally smug but talented ash blond companion at your side.
You hadn’t seen Albedo since Master Rhinedottir had left and sent Albedo to Mondstadt with a letter of recommendation. You travelled with him to the City of Freedom but you only stayed for a few nights before you departed to Liyue. Your master had different plans for you and you didn’t know how long your own journey would take but you both promised to stay in touch through letters. 
He was now acting as the Chief Alchemist and Captain of the Investigation Team of the Knights of Favonius. He managed to get a lab from Alice and he even had an assistant named Sucrose. He sent over some sketches for you and even if the bottom half of “Sucrose” was just a stick figure, you were happy that he wasn’t alone and cooped up in his lab all the time. You were, however, worried about these “Klee disasters” but happy that he still had the energy to write to you. At first it was hard, you found yourself talking to the air as if Albedo was still there but even after all these years, you couldn’t help but miss him. The occasional letter you received did help to lighten the mood however and you always made sure to store them carefully.
It seemed that your dapping mood was noticeable because even the ever stoic Zhongli asked if you were okay. He was nice and easy to talk to, even if he had a problem with Mora that you sometimes had to bail him out off, but you trusted him so you explained to him your growing loneliness. Which he simply replied that if you missed someone, you should go see them.
So here you are right outside the gates. The knights at the front were nice enough and let you through with ease once they checked that you didn’t have anything destructive. Now the hard part was actually finding Albedo. The knights had mentioned that despite being a highly respectable alchemist and one of the Captains, no one really knew where he was most of the time. Originally, you were thinking of planning some sort of surprise, even had made an entire game plan, but now that you were here. You just wanted to tackle the man, pride be damned.
You began to wander around the city, in comparison to Liyue it was quite small but so much more lively and warm. Christmas was right around the corner so everyone was rushing around hanging up lights and finding presents but it was nice. Everyone seemed to know each other and unlike Liyue, you didn’t need to be afraid if the walls were listening. You looked around for a man with bright teal eyes and ashy light blond hair, even asking around, but no luck. No one seemed to know where he was and if he was even in Mondstadt right now. You were beginning to loose hope and that your trip might have been in vain when you felt a small tap on your shoulder and-
Sweet jesus, what the fuck?
You were almost jealous at how good he looked now. He was always handsome when you were both younger but now it felt like cupid decided to descend from the heavens, laugh at you, then riddled you full of arrows. Was your pulse working? Brain still computing? You knew you had a small crush on Albedo when you were younger- who were you kidding, you were in love with this man since he helped you create cecilia flowers from a dead denro slime - but this was just unfair!
“Albedo! I was looking around everywhere for you. This place is actually a lot bigger than it se-”
“You’re back.”
Albedo was surprised to see that it was really you. He only caught a small glimpse of your profile but he knew it was you. He almost suspected that his vision was tricking him or that he might have accidently set one of his sketches of you to life but you were here. Albedo has always treated friendships with a constant degree of distance, always working or traveling to gathering materials to avoid social interactions even if it wasn’t intentional. He also had no memory of any family, only adventuring deep within the domains with his master and you. But when his Master left with one assignment left for him he couldn’t help but feel a bit hollow, but you were always there to lift his spirits up even if on the outside he didn’t appear upset.
But then you had left and gone on your own journey.
“Hm? Oh, sorry I didn’t mention it in my last letter. It was a bit of an impulse trip. But I’m not intruding in on anything right? You’re happy to see me...right?”
“You’re here.”
At first he was alright with it, even encouraged you to set off to Liyue since it was the closest. Promising that you would both keep in touch even if he found relationships a taxing cycle. But when a few months had passed and it began to settle in that you weren’t anywhere near him. That he couldn’t talk to you about new discoveries, that he couldn’t hear you voice anymore, that he had even forgotten how to sketch you. It felt...weird. He knew what he was feeling was loneliness, he wasn’t deluded or naïve, but even when he had Sucrose or Timaeus it wasn’t the same. But now you were here. He could see you and how the lines in his sketchbook were wrong whenever he attempted to re-create you. He could feel your warmth that sketches he brought to life couldn’t do. He could feel your presence and how it slowly but surely filled the void in him until it was bursting at the seams.
“Albedo? Are you alright?”
“You’re here.”
You were almost afraid that the holidays had broke Albedo. You knew he would sometimes get too deep in thought and wouldn’t register his surrounding but it was just you two. With the sun slowly going down, the snowflakes dancing around you both, and the Christmas light reflecting off his unique blue eyes. You took a slow blinked at him. Once. Twice. The same way you would when you were studying something, trying to unveil its secrets. Before sighing amusingly and opening up your arms to him. He was still the same. 
“I’m here.”
The final assignment Albedo received was too hard, too complicated, far beyond his own limits and he was worried that if he never completed it, would he ever see his teacher again? When you took your first step outside the walls of the city, waving back to him as you set off on your journey, he couldn’t help but feel that like his teacher, you were leaving him too. But when you looked at him with those warm but understanding eyes, opened your arms to him, he let go and stepped into your embrace. He was sure he was borderline crushing your frame but you hugged him back just as tightly. 
“My apologies. I got overwhelmed. Come with me, let’s get out of the cold first.”
You tried to hold it in but you laughed at his statement. He didn’t seem to mind as you felt him smile into your neck. Even with those words he hadn’t let go or slackened his grip in the slightest. So you both stayed there outside in the cold, the christmas lights reflected off snow, the sounds of laughter and singing playing in the background as you both embraced each other. 
I’m home
You’re home
---
Although Albedo was happy to see you again, he was wondering why out of all the years you had been away, all the other holidays you had missed, you decided to come to Mondstadt today. You were at his lab and marveling at all his new devices when he popped the question. You flushed a bit but quickly brushed it off, saying that after all the letters he sent you were finally curious as to what Mondstadt was like and the people he met. Plus, Liyue and Inazuma didn’t celebrate Christmas as much as Mondstadt so it would be nice to finally celebrate the holiday again.
He simply smiled smugly and nodded along before you eventually caved, because that look could steal your heart away, and revealed that honestly, you just really missed him and wanted to spend Christmas together. There wasn’t anything wrong with that was there? So what if you missed him? It was natural. It wasn’t like you were wondering what he was doing on slow days in Liyue. It wasn’t like you we- 
“You can stop laughing at me. I know you’re doing it even if I can’t hear it Albedo.” 
“I’m sorry you must be mistaken. Perhaps your observational skills have rusted?”
You huffed at him before turning your attention to a small but worn sketching book. It was different from the ones he had showed you and much smaller compared to the ripped out sketches he sent you. Albedo noticed your curiosity and almost flushed before striding over and showing you what was inside. It was either he do it now or you would constantly eye ball it until he finally let you see what was inside. 
He took out the old sketchbook and flipped all the way to the first page. They had been sketches of you. When it had just been you, Albedo, and your teacher he would often ask to draw you but he never showed you the finished product. What was surprising was they were all full sketches. No simple lines or unfinished colours. His interest in things, especially when he draws, were fleeting leading him to always create unfinished or basic lines. 
“Wow, was this your first sketchbook? Did you draw anything else? Oh, like your assistant perhaps?”
“No. I only drew one thing here. It’s been sitting here ever since but I tend to make sure it’s in good condition. Should I ever need to draw in it again.” 
Albedo almost reached for his pencil to sketch your smug but bright smile. But set his hand down. While he wants to capture moments so they remain forever with him, he felt that perhaps, it would be nice to live in them. Just for a moment. 
---
I never write at the bottom of my fics but I wrote too much at the start haha (plus tagging my screaming doesn’t work anymore). Not gonna lie, this was going to be different and you and Albedo would have role reversed AND I WAS GOING TO WRITE MONA IN but that didn’t happen. I made it so disgustingly sappy at the end that I want to throw up but when do I not? 
But I kind of like this version more. He’s super out of character but I don’t care and you’re gonna have to take this hcs out of my COLD DEAD HANDS. But I hope you enjoyed this and I’m using this as my Albedo catalyst so come home elevator boy. (cough celebration hcs are still open if you wanna feed me 👀 this )
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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago
Note
Your idea of madam nie!jgy is really good could u wrt that ?
for those who don’t remember, the Madame Nie!JGY idea is here and here
- on ao3 -
Untamed verse
Paperwork.
The bane of Nie Huaisang’s life.
It wasn’t that he didn’t know he was moderately clever, sometimes scaling up to very clever if he was irritated, but somehow he’d never had the ability to keep facts and figures and exact sentences straight in his head. Any teaching done through rote memorization (in other words, most of it) was wasted on him, and the few things he could keep track of, usually in over-abundant and hyper-specific detail, weren’t the sorts of things that were especially helpful. 
Or, well, they were helpful in figuring out what clothing to wear or whether art was good or bad, and occasionally in being able to figure out where people should sit in a hall in order to either minimize or maximize the opportunity for incidents that would create gossip, but they really weren’t helpful if what you were trying to do was run a very large and very industrious sect.
His brother handled the majority of it, of course, as sect leader, and naturally he hadn’t stinted on hiring talented deputies – admittedly, the Nie sect threw around the word deputy the way an especially enthusiastic firefighter tossed around water and sand, but most sects had a more settled bureaucracy in place than the Nie sect did and it was an important position, even if it was usually just a gateway to being put somewhere you actually fit rather than a permanent spot for most people – but in the end there were some things that required the signature of a member of the Nie clan and Nie Mingjue, Nie Huaisang very reluctantly supposed (if he had to), couldn’t do everything.
He groaned and put his head down on the table.
This never happened when Meng Yao was here, he thought bitterly.
Meng Yao had been one of his brother’s finds, someone he’d promoted in a fit of temper as usual, but to just about everyone’s surprise he had turned out to be amazing at logistics and organization, able to quickly gain expertise in really everything and anything a sect needed to run. After a few months he knew most things, and the things he didn’t know he could either figure out or speculate on with relative accuracy. He’d been amazingly efficient, and it had made Nie Mingjue happy – happy not just to have such good help and to have his taste in subordinates confirmed, but also to see Meng Yao flourishing as his deputy, his real deputy, to see him pleased and respected the way his talents so obviously deserved…
Nie Huaisang sighed. If only his stupid brother had gone ahead and just sworn brotherhood with Meng Yao when the idea had been proposed!
If only he’d done that, Nie Huaisang could have been acting cute and calling Meng Yao – no, wait, it was Jin Guangyao now, he kept forgetting – he could have been calling him ���san-ge’ right now and hanging off his arm and soon enough Jin Guangyao would yield and do all the work for him, leaving only the actual signing for Nie Huaisang to do. And the work would’ve gotten done better than he would have ever done it, in less time, and he could’ve been spending his precious time doing literally anything else.
Ugh.
Well, he supposed it wasn’t entirely his brother’s fault that the whole plan hadn’t gone through. He hadn’t been the one to back out of the brotherhood idea – that’d been Lan Xichen, for some reason, even though he’d been the one to originally propose the idea, and obviously Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao weren’t going to swear brotherhood without him. It was Venerated Triad, not Venerated Duo.
It was just so unfortunate that the absence of a sworn brother relationship meant that Nie Huaisang had no basis to ask Jin Guangyao to help him out. Or, while he was imagining things, why not just go all the way and imagine that Jin Guangyao could just come back to Qinghe already.
He could run things in a way that made sense and was efficient, which would reduce Nie Mingjue’s stress levels, and Nie Mingjue’s stress levels going down meant that Nie Huaisang’s stress would go down. Way down. And Jin Guangyao’s stress levels would also be way down as well by virtue of, well, being back at Qinghe, where things made sense and he didn’t have to deal with his awful family of his which he seemed to value for some reason that Nie Huaisang didn’t understand and honestly didn’t want to understand. It’d be a win all around!
Ugh.
Life was just better when Jin Guangyao was around.
But what could be done about it? He couldn’t exactly suggest being sworn brothers with Jin Guangyao himself – you needed to do something impressive together to justify that, usually – and for all that he had his brother wrapped around his little finger, he knew perfectly well that Nie Mingjue might hire an unknown man as a deputy in a fit of temper but he’d never hire someone he fired, even if Jin Guangyao were willing to take the role of deputy again. Which he probably wasn’t now that he was all legitimate and recognized and stuff; it was probably beneath him.
If only there were another position available, something not a deputy, not a sworn brother, something where he could just run the Nie sect for the good of everyone –
Wait.
There was.
And, thanks to his brother’s misanthropic ways, the position was available.
Perfect!
-
“Congratulations, da-ge!” Nie Huaisang announced grandly, sweeping into his brother’s study.
“Just tell the treasury to cover the cost of whatever it is you broke or bought,” Nie Mingjue said without looking up, which, first, rude, and second, really? Awesome. Nie Huaisang was going to get so much mileage out of that one.
“Oh, da-ge, really. I wasn’t talking about me –”
“A miracle.”
“– shut up. I was congratulating you! It’s what little brothers like me should do for big brothers like you on the event of their engagement!”
There was a silence of about five deep breaths.
(Or at least, that’s how long Nie Huaisang assumed it was, provided that his brother was listening to his doctor’s orders about managing his anger, which he had damn well better be.)
Nie Mingjue put down the piece of paper he was working on, and gently laid down his brush to avoid breaking it like so many of the others, and looked up at Nie Huaisang, fixing all of his attention on him.
“Huaisang,” he said, his voice only slightly above a growl. “My what now?”
“Your engagement!” Nie Huaisang beamed at him. “The Sunshot Campaign is over, our father is avenged, and you’re already in your mid-twenties – that means it’s time to get moving on finding the perfect Madame Nie, and I’ve got a great candidate in mind for you.”
His brother looked uncomfortable. “Huaisang,” he said, and his voice was almost delicate. “You are aware…”
“I’ve taken your preferences into account,” Nie Huaisang assured him, and he was only mostly lying. His brother had liked Meng Yao a great deal, once upon a time, and even if they’d never actually slept together – his stupid anti-social brother probably hadn’t even hinted that he might be interested, what with the power differential and Meng Yao’s unfortunate familial history – there was no reason he couldn’t like Jin Guangyao, too, if only he’d give him a chance. Just because he didn’t like him right now didn’t mean anything about his preferences generally. “It’s not like I missed the vast increase in the amount of cutsleeve pornography in our library, okay?”
“That was not me.”
“I know it wasn’t you, but you got the benefit of it, didn’t you? Like I said: don’t worry. It’s a man. You can stop worrying, relax, and let me handle it.”
His brother’s face was doing the skeptical look again, the one where he looked like he was seriously doubting Nie Huaisang’s ability to put on clothing in the morning. He wasn’t five anymore, da-ge! Okay, eight, but only because he kept putting stuff on backwards while he was rushing. Maybe ten for formal clothing... “No, Huaisang.”
“No, really, I can –”
“The answer is no, Huaisang.”
That sounded depressingly final.
“What if I do the puppy eyes at you?”
“The answer is still no,” his brother said, going back to his paperwork, although he was smiling a little. “No, you may not set up an engagement for me; no, I will not agree; no.”
Damnit.
Okay, maybe Nie Huaisang should be tackling this from a different angle.
-
“It’s so good to see you!” Nie Huaisang gushed. He wasn’t entirely sure what to call Jin Guangyao now – after all, the other man was a few years his senior, and now that he was recognized by his father there wasn’t a class difference that would make it permissible for Nie Huaisang to call him by name the way he’d used to call Meng Yao. But they’d known each other for years, so Jin-qianbei might come off as pretentious and too formal, Jin-gongzi was definitely too formal, and were they really at the stage where he could call him Jin-xiong?
(Plus he already called Jin Zixuan Jin-xiong, so he’d have to figure out where Meng Yao fell in the hierarchy – except no one had ever clarified one way or the other. He was pretty sure Meng Yao was older, but even if he was it probably wasn’t appropriate to go around calling him Jin-da-ge.)
Now, Nie Huaisang had more or less made it his life policy to adopt virtual strangers as brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles, the more the better, but he also didn’t want to offend Jin Guangyao by making it seem like he didn’t respect his new position.
Especially when he wanted Jin Guangyao to do something for him.
“It’s good to see you too, Nie-gongzi,” Jin Guangyao said, and no, that wouldn’t do at all.
Nie Huaisang poked at him with his fan. “How many times do I have to tell you? Just call me Huaisang, the way da-ge does. You were almost my san-ge, remember?”
“Nie-gongzi…”
“Huaisang!”
Jin Guangyao had an indulgent look on his face. “Very well, Huaisang.”
“Anyway, I know you’re busy with dealing with sect things – that hunt last month was great, sorry about da-ge being overenthusiastic but at least he had a really good time – and stuff like that, but I just wanted to swing by Lanling to congratulate you!” Nie Huaisang said, deciding to take the moment to barrel onwards. “I didn’t get a chance to talk to you last time, and so much has happened since you left Qinghe! You got accepted into the Jin sect! Recognized by your father! Given a name! A fancy title! A position! An engagement! A nice hat!”
“I’m sorry,” Jin Guangyao said. “I got a what?”
“A nice hat!”
“Nice try, Huaisang.”
“Oh, come on, you don’t even know who I’m setting you up with yet!” Nie Huaisang whined. “And it’s not like you don’t want to get married! Weren’t you  thinking of marrying the Qin sect’s girl? I mean, before they backed out on account of swearing vengeance against your father and the Jin sect and all…”
“I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Huaisang,” Jin Guangyao said, gentle and polite as always, but in his own way just as firm as Nie Mingjue. They really would be a good match, and not just because it’d make Nie Huaisang’s life so much easier. “But I’m really much too busy to think about anything like that. Matters in the Jin sect, you understand…”
“But –”
“Huaisang, please.”
Damnit.
-
Nie Huaisang was going to need to think about this.
He hated thinking.
-
“It’s just so unfair,” Nie Huaisang moaned. “Why do people insist on making things hard? When it could be so easy if only they’d listen…”
“It sounds like a real tragedy,” Lan Xichen said, pouring him a cup of tea.
He was just barely managing to resist smiling, which was good – he didn’t smile that much anymore, not since whatever it was that happened to him a month or two back around the time the sworn brother ceremony was supposed to happen. No one knew what it was that happened, not even Lan Wangji (Nie Huaisang had asked), but it was making everyone worried; Nie Mingjue had wanted to go over to demand answers practically ever since but things just kept happening.
Mostly due to Lan Xichen, actually, now that Nie Huaisang thought about it.
First there was that failed sworn brotherhood thing – he’d been the one pushing the idea in the first place, but only a week before they actually did the ceremony Lan Xichen had suddenly showed up at the Unclean Realm, bursting into Nie Mingjue’s bedroom while he was resting during his recovery from the events at the Nightless City, and insisted they call the whole thing off. He’d been pale, his eyes wide and scared, but he’d refused to explain anything no matter how many times Nie Mingjue asked; he’d only been sad and oddly clingy for the entire week, refusing to leave until the planned date of the sworn brotherhood ceremony had passed with it unfulfilled.
Then he’d gone home, and things had seemed to be fine, only after the hunt at Phoenix Mountain and Wei Wuxian’s impromptu theft of a bunch of Wen prisoners of war – neither of which appeared to be due to Lan Xichen, admittedly – and right when everyone had been gearing up to go make a big fuss over it, Lan Xichen had abruptly revealed that he’d been investigating the Jin sect and they were up to their necks in all sorts of unfortunate things.
Secret demonic cultivation experiments, which one might understand, and buying corpses, a subject on which the Nie sect had always been remarkably open-minded, but also stealing beloved corpses and tomb robbing, more-than-likely murder, possibly even massacres of entire small clans, all as part of their experiments, and to top it all off there were a whole big number of rapes attributed to Jin Guangshan personally.
Madame Qin among them, which was why Jin Guangyao’s original marriage plans had fallen through. It wasn’t even worth considering it, not when there was a risk that poor Qin Su, who’d had such a crush on the gallant Jin Guangyao, might be his sister…
Anyway, while the Jin were still too powerful, as a Great Sect, to fully suffer the consequences of their actions, the Jin sect had been disgraced at the very moment that they thought they were on the rise. Jin Guangshan had even been talking about taking up the post of Chief Cultivator following Wen Ruohan’s demise, which he might have been able to swing since Nie Mingjue thought the idea of having a Chief Cultivator at all was bullshit, but now obviously that was completely out of the question.
Plus the whole thing had retroactively cleared Wei Wuxian’s name, leaving him free and clear to return to the Jiang sect as a hero who stood up against Jin sect presumptuousness and overreach when no one else would, which was a pretty big change from his previous political position, which was being widely known as an arrogant and dangerous hothead on the verge of being cast out of the sect for the good of the cultivation world at large despite them very, very obviously not wanting to do it.
Wei Wuxian had even been able to bring the Wen sect members he’d rescued back to the Lotus Pier with him, and now there was even talk that Jiang Cheng might marry Wen Qing (as someone who went to the Cloud Recesses lectures with them both, Nie Huaisang wasn’t surprised by the suggestion at all) once his sister concluded her marriage with Jin Zixuan, which was going to be a far less sumptuous affair than originally planned. After all, the politics of the situation had reversed almost entirely, with the disgraced Jin sect needing the marriage to the reputable (and, thanks in large part to Wei Wuxian, powerful) Jiang sect to help keep what was left of their reputation and influence intact.
Perhaps the Jin sect’s crimes were the reason that Lan Xichen had been acting strangely distant from Jin Guangyao, even though no one had ever proven anything about his involvement – Jin Guangshan’s attempt to throw the blame entirely on his newly adopted son were dismissed as the fabrications they so obviously were – but Nie Huaisang wasn’t so sure.
Lan Xichen wasn’t the sort of person to worry about politics, after all. But then why…?
“Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?” Lan Xichen asked, settling in his own seat with his own cup of tea. He looked very serious, as if Nie Huaisang’s opinion on things mattered to him.
It was nice. Most people just looked really long-suffering when they talked with Nie Huaisang, and those were the people that actually liked him.
“Okay,” Nie Huaisang said. “So. Theoretically, if a person were trying to set up a marriage between, hypothetically, two people who would be perfect for each other, and I do mean disgustingly everything-would-be-wonderful-for-everyone sort of perfect, and they were just, you know, refusing for absolutely no valid reason other than their own stupid issues –”
“How in the world did you figure out that I was trying to get Wangji to confess his affections to Wei Wuxian?” Lan Xichen said, sounding stunned. “I didn’t tell anyone…You really are a genius, Huaisang.”
Nie Huaisang blinked, then lifted his head off the table, settling his chin on his hands.
“That actually wasn’t what I was talking about,” he admitted. “But now you have my full attention and I don’t care about my issue anymore. Tell me everything.”
-
“So, fun fact!” Nie Huaisang said, bouncing into his brother’s bedroom just in time to help him undo his braids before sleep. It was his favorite chore, no matter how much his brother protested that it wasn’t a chore and also that he’d been doing it for himself for years and seriously he could do it himself if Nie Huaisang wasn’t so stupidly possessive about being the only one allowed to do it any time they were both at home with violations punished of having Nie Mingjue’s fingers smacked with Nie Huaisang’s fan, all of which Nie Huaisang treated as the irrelevant and pointless statements they were. “I was just over at the Cloud Recesses visiting Xichen-xiong and he’s clearly super into me.”
“What,” his brother said.
Nie Huaisang cackled and dug his fingers into his brother’s thick hair – he was so jealous, his own was thin and stringy and brushing it definitely did not feel like petting a tiger the way it did when he did Nie Mingjue’s hair. He watched in the mirror with satisfaction as his brother’s shoulders immediately relaxed, all the anger and tension flowing out of them at once as a result of Nie Huaisang’s careful training over the years, although Nie Mingjue’s eyebrows still stayed sky high.
“I’m serious!” Nie Huaisang said, starting to release the braids. “He said that he respects me, and that he thinks I’m a genius. He has to have a thing for me. The only possible reason anyone would respect me is if all the blood had left their brain and they were blinded by my overwhelming prettiness!”
His brother seemed torn between denying Nie Huaisang’s statement that no one could respect him and telling him to stop being so full of himself about the overwhelming prettiness comment.
“Maybe Xichen just went insane,” he ended up saying instead. “That seems marginally more likely.”
“An excellent point,” Nie Huaisang acknowledged because, well, it was. “Now, totally unrelatedly, did you know that the Jin sect is treating poor Jin Guangyao just awful? Madame Jin throws things and Sect Leader Jin yells and blames him for stuff and it’s just so sad, we should do something about it.”
“Something like invite him here to live as my brand new bride, I’m guessing,” Nie Mingjue said, voice extremely dry. “You’re incredibly not subtle.”
Nie Huaisang freed a hand and held up a finger pointedly. “Ah, ah! Xichen-xiong says I’m a genius.”
His brother fell silent for a few moments. “You’re right,” he finally said. “He must have a crush on you. Not even insanity would explain this.”
Nie Huaisang sniggered.
“Also, really, Meng Yao?” Nie Mingjue asked. “That was who you were planning on setting me up with? You have to know that wouldn’t work.” He shifted in his chair. “…are they really beating him there?”
Huh, maybe Lan Xichen was right and Nie Huaisang really was a genius.
He wisely decided not to answer – it would work better if his brother investigated and found out the (admittedly fairly awful, according to the servants’ gossip) details for himself – and instead said, “Why’d you kick him out, anyway? I thought he got stabbed saving you. Whatever he did, how big of a deal could it have been, really?”
“He committed premeditated murder. In the middle of an attack on the sect, no less.”
Damnit, Meng Yao! Can’t you make things easy on me for once?!
“Okay,” Nie Huaisang said, tugging on one of the braids until Nie Mingjue, who’d tensed up, relaxed again. It was a nice that his brother was so easily trainable, or at least he was on everything other than saber practice. Surely that was a selling point that Jin Guangyao could appreciate in a man? “Uh. Have you considered that, uh – well, maybe it could have been justified?”
“I asked him for an explanation,” Nie Mingjue growled. “His reason boiled down to ‘that guy was a dick to me’.”
“Wow,” Nie Huaisang said. “I have such strong empathy for Meng Yao’s position, you have no idea.”
“Huaisang.”
“I’m just saying, if we could stab everyone who acted like a dick…”
“Huaisang. No.”
“You know you want to.”
“But I don’t,” Nie Mingjue insisted. “He used the cover of battle, a Wen sword…he even tried to blame Xue Yang for it when I literally saw him holding the sword in his hand! I should have executed him right then and there, and I would have, if he hadn’t saved my life.”
A tricky one, Nie Huaisang thought. But not a match for me, Nie Huaisang: Lan Xichen-certified genius.
“Okay,” he said. “But…you already punished him for that, right? You exiled him. He was exiled. It was all very sad, tears were shed, mostly by me but also a bit by you – we’re an emotional family – and just possibly by Meng Yao, though who even knows, maybe Jin Guangshan’s spawn are all born without tear ducts as a congenital deficiency. But any way you look at it, it’s done now, and that means he can come back!”
“Huaisang. That’s not how exile works.”
“Uh, I think you’ll find that it does,” Nie Huaisang said haughtily. “There are at least five incidents in the Nie sect’s history where something comparable has happened.”
“Really.” His brother’s voice was very, very dry.
“Really,” Nie Huaisang insisted.
“And you, with your amazing ability to retain facts, know this…how?”
“Okay fine, I made that up,” Nie Huaisang confessed. “But I will find some and prove to you that it’s a thing! And then you’ll have no choice but to agree with my plan!”
“That’s not how that works, either,” Nie Mingjue said. “But if you’re willing to knuckle down and do the historical research to justify your bullshit, I’ll – consider it.”
“I will! You’ll see!”
-
“Xichen-xiong!” Nie Huaisang wept, clinging onto Lan Xichen’s arm. “You have to help me! There are so many books! And they’re all so long! They’re doing it just to spite me personally!”
Lan Xichen managed, with a truly remarkable amount of skill, to detach Nie Huaisang from his arm and settle him down in a chair in record time. If Nie Huaisang didn’t know better, he would have guessed that he’d done it before dozens, maybe even hundreds, of times, but of course they didn’t know each other that well.
Pity, that. Nie Huaisang might not need him as urgently as he needed Jin Guangyao, but losing out on having Lan Xichen as his er-ge was also a big downside of the whole not-swearing-brotherhood thing.
“What’s the problem this time, Huaisang?” Lan Xichen asked. He did not seem all that concerned, which...yeah, fair.
“I need you to do some research for me,” Nie Huaisang said, batting his eyelashes at him to see if that would work. “Nie sect history. Please?”
Lan Xichen tensed a little. It was a minute gesture, barely even noticeable. “On…what subject? Does your brother know?”
“Free passage laws and border restrictions,” Nie Huaisang said, and Lan Xichen visibly relaxed. “And of course he knows, he assigned it! Do you think I would do boring old historical research for fun?”
Lan Xichen smiled again, and Nie Huaisang counted it as a victory.
“All right, I’ll help,” he said indulgently, then paused. “Just…this isn’t part of some scheme, right?”
“Of course not,” Nie Huaisang said, injured. “Why would you even ask that? I am the most scheme-less person you could ever meet in your life. There are newborn baby rabbits that are more scheming than me!”
This was because newborn baby rabbits were dicks. Lan Wangji made him hold one once and Nie Huaisang was pretty sure it deliberately pissed on his fingers.
Lan Xichen coughed into his sleeve, just barely managing not to laugh in face. “I’m sure you are. No reason for asking. Did you bring the records you wanted me to look through?”
“By total coincidence, in fact, I did! Not that I would assume that you’d agree, of course.”
“…of course, Huaisang.”
-
“Jin-xiong!” Yes, Nie Huaisang was going for it; Jin Zixuan was just going to have to deal. “Jin-xiong, I have been informed by reliable sources that you’re a big fan of power, am I right?”
Jin Guangyao actually reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose – he must be very tired, to react that way while Nie Huaisang was still present.
In fairness, he really had been having a hard time of it recently. Even putting aside how awful it must be to live with Sect Leader Jin and his wife – it was no surprise (to Nie Huaisang, anyway) that their own son and heir spent a disturbingly large portion of his time visiting the Lotus Pier with his wife, even accounting for having to deal with the world’s most over-protective brothers-in-law – there were all the problems the Jin sect was having, the way Sect Leader Jin’s nasty and arrogant reactions to being challenged only seemed to be making it all worse, and then of course there was also the fact that Nie Mingjue had literally punched Sect Leader Jin in the face after he’d come in unexpectedly and caught him throwing a cup of tea on Jin Guangyao.
(That particular disaster was still ongoing, actually, and at very high volume – Jin Guangyao had been waiting anxiously outside the door, which wasn’t going to do him a single bit of good, but luckily for him Nie Huaisang was here to distract him from all of his troubles. Wasn’t Nie Huaisang a wonderfully nice person?)
“Jin-xiong,” Nie Huaisang whined, tugging on Jin Guangyao’s sleeve until the other man had no choice but to follow him further down the hallway and further away from the receiving room where the current Nie-Jin shouting session was happening behind them. “Tell me. Am I right?”
“You’re really excitable today, Huaisang,” Jin Guangyao said instead of answering. “Are you feeling all right?”
“Actually, I really, really, really hate flying on my saber and I’ve had to do it so often recently, it’s been terrible, you have no idea how much I’ve suffered, but I’m at least marginally hopeful that it’ll all be worth it in the end. But enough about me. You, power…how would you really like to tell your father and his wife where to shove it?”
“Huaisang,” Jin Guangyao said helplessly. “We’re in the middle of Koi Tower. Can you at least keep your voice down?”
Pssh, like Nie Huaisang cared what some Jin sect retainers thought. His brother just punched their sect leader in the face, what in the world was he going to do that would top that?
“Really,” he insisted, deciding to ignore Jin Guangyao’s clearly misplaced objections. “Consider it for a moment. How would you like to obtain fame, power, wealth, legitimacy – of the public-recognition variety, not the familial sort, you got that already – the ability to rub your success into your father’s face and also possibly jump up and down on it a few times, and, just as a bonus, also maybe become Chief Cultivator?”
Technically, wife of the Chief Cultivator, but in reality there was no way he wouldn’t be the one doing all the work. People were being really insistent about there being one, and with Jin Guangshan out of the picture, Lan Xichen acting weirdly shifty, and Jiang Cheng being Jiang Cheng, the entire cultivation world were all currently forming a consensus that it was going to be Nie Mingjue regardless of whether he actually agreed to take the job. So if Nie Huaisang’s poor beleaguered big brother was going to get stuck with the title, why not give the work to someone who’d actually enjoy it?
“Huaisang,” Jin Guangyao said, and his voice was so overtly sorrowful and pathetic that Nie Huaisang actually stopped to goggle at him. “I have never once sought personal power nor pursued ambition on my own behalf, and I regret that you think of me in that way.”
He paused for a moment.
“You can keep talking, though.”
“Excellent,” Nie Huaisang said. “So the plan is –”
-
“Forgive my language,” Lan Xichen said, his voice a little strangled. “But what the fuck?”
Nie Huaisang giggled. “I didn’t know the Lan sect permitted swearing.”
“It doesn’t. I’ll punish myself later,” Lan Xichen said, still staring blankly into space. “I just…they’re getting married? All those changes, and they end up getting married?”
“Technically, they’re eloping,” Nie Huaisang said. “Since they’re not actually getting Jin-xiong’s father’s permission and all…oh, Madame Jin looks angry enough to eat glass. I love weddings!”
Lan Xichen turned to look at him with narrowed eyes.
“Huaisang,” he said warningly. “This was a scheme on your part, wasn’t it?”
“Uh, I mean, okay, maybe a little,” Nie Huaisang confessed. “But only a little. A mini-scheme. A micro-plot. A stratagem. Oooh, did I intrigue? I like that. I’m intriguing.”
“You certainly are that,” Lan Xichen said dryly. “But…why?”
“Because now Jin-xiong – we can still call him that, right? I don’t think his father has the right to take back the name once it’s given, even if he does go ahead and disown him the way he’s threatening to – now Jin-xiong can do all the paperwork and make things run efficiently back home, and also it’s now totally in his best interest to make sure my brother stays sect leader and Chief Cultivator forever because otherwise he loses the basis of his own power,” Nie Huaisang explained. “And thus far I haven’t seen anything that Jin-xiong – oh, I can call him sao-zi now, that’s much more straightforward! – anything that he can’t do if he puts his mind to it. Which means I am now guaranteed to have a nice long life full of sweet, blissful nothing! No responsibilities! Freedom!”
He paused.
“Oh, and obviously they’ll be great together, really happy and all that,” he added. “That’s important too.”
Lan Xichen put his hand up to his forehead, but he was smiling broadly now – not the tiny little smiles Nie Huaisang had managed to steal up out of him up until now, but a big old grin.
“Anyway, now that that’s over and done with, I promise, no more schemes,” Nie Huaisang added, putting his hand on his heart. “This is the last one, okay? If you don’t believe me, you can write it into our marriage vows.”
Lan Xichen huffed a little, clearly not believing him, but he sounded fond about it. “Whatever you say, Huaisang – wait. Hold on. Our what?”
“Our marriage vows,” Nie Huaisang explained. “At our marriage. On account of your total inexplicable crush on me, which upon reflection I have generously decided to accept and return your affections.”
Lan Xichen’s mouth was opening and closing like a fish.
“Of course, we’re not going to be so lucky as to just elope,” Nie Huaisang continued thoughtfully. “Da-ge can’t have a proper wedding ceremony because people will be too afraid of irritating Sect Leader Jin to attend, but if we have a nice big party to announce my engagement to you, well, that’s different, right? They can all come to that. It’ll be like a secret-not-secret wedding that everyone knows is a wedding but with the plausible deniability that it’s totally just an engagement party. But if we have the big announcement, there’s no getting out of doing all the steps and rituals and whatnot, and, oh, we’ll have to deal with your uncle and our elders…it’ll be a disaster, really. So much work!”
He sighed. “Oh, the things I do for you, Xichen-gege! You’re very lucky I like you so much!”
Lan Wangji cleared his throat behind them both, and they turned to look at him – he was standing there with his arm around Wei Wuxian’s waist, which was more or less the same posture he was always in these days. Now that was one marriage – arranged as it might have been originally, with Lan Xichen pressuring Jiang Cheng until he agreed – that had gone very well, even if Lan Wangji was still a little cold with his brother over the extremely aggressive tactics he had employed in getting them together.
“Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials, brother,” Lan Wangji said, somewhat stone faced. “It couldn’t have happened to someone more deserving.”
Wei Wuxian, by his side, smiled and nodded. “If you’d like any help planning the wedding –” he started to say.
“Oh, would you?” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, clapping his hands in excitement. “Wei-xiong, you’re the best. We’re going to need at least a thousand of those spirit summon flags of yours.”
“A – a thousand? Do you know how long it’ll take me to draw a thousand talismans?!”
“Well, how else will we guarantee that we have a hunt so impressive that no one will ever stop talking about it?” Nie Huaisang asked, because obviously that’s what his da-ge would have wanted for his own wedding and since Nie Huaisang messed that up for his own purposes, having it at his was the least he could do to make it up to him. 
Best of all, as the bride, he’d be all decked out in jewelry and fancy clothing and exactly nobody would expect him to participate. Win-win! 
“Chop-chop, Wei-xiong! The wedding’s happening sooner rather than later, so if you think you’re going to have problems keeping up with demand, I’ll send some Nie sect disciples with decent handwriting over to you to learn. I think some of the people sao-zi is bringing with him from the Jin sect have some background in demonic cultivation too, I don’t know, but I’ll find out and let you know as soon as possible. You need to train up some people anyway so that you can ramp up production – once you start selling your talismans, more people will use them, and people will be much less afraid of you. Isn’t that wonderful?”
Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were both gaping at him. Possibly he had used too many words at once for them – or maybe it was just the speed in which he’d said it?
Lan Xichen started laughing.
“This is fine,” he said, wiping his eyes. “It’s just so much better than – yes, this is fine.”
Nie Huaisang was glad he agreed.
It meant the epic getting-together scheme that he’d had half-planned in the back of his mind in the event Lan Xichen said no could be safely shelved for another day.
Victory!
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canary3d-obsessed · 4 years ago
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Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 01
(Masterpost) (Next Episode)
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Warning: This is **FULL **of spoilers, not just for this episode but for the entire series. If you haven’t finished all 50 episodes, please don’t read it! 
Intro: 2020 continues to be much much too much while also being incredibly boring, and Im done with Shen Wei’s Lewks, so now I’m doing a deep meta dive into the Untamed. Let’s roll! 
Prologue: The Battle of Mordor
The Demise of our Protagonist
Unlike some other shows I won’t name, The Untamed kills its suicidal queer protagonist immediately, rather than waiting four seasons, so we know what we're in for. 
This is Wei Wuxian, who is about to yeet himself off of a cliff. He is having a bad day. 
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Note: if mouth blood bothers you...C-Drama might not be your thing. 
Reasons for mouth blood: a sampler
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Anyway...cliff time
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Note: if (fictional) suicide bothers you...C-Drama might not be your thing. 
To be fair there are hardly any suicides in The Untamed. No more than ...five? As long as you don’t count the entire population of the Wen Corporate Headquarters in Yiling or those wall bandits in Qinghe or Madame Yu or all those Wens who supposedly threw themselves into the mud puddle or that Mo guy who broke his own neck. Plus watching Wei Wuxian’s cliff drop several more times from multiple angles. So, you know. Hardly Any Suicides. 
This is Lan Wangji, who is about to have his first losing encounter with physics. He is having a bad day.
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In fact, if it is possible to have a worse day than the guy who is currently falling to his death, Lan Wangji is having that.
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This is Jiang Cheng, who is feeling extra stabby from this camera angle. He is having a bad day.
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Camera operator: why you gotta take it out on me? 
(Much, much more after the cut!)
The Amulet Situation
This is the Stygian Tiger Amulet. Yes, by all means, (Netflix) subtitles, let's use a 12-dollar word, “Stygian,” that every English speaker who is not a Shelley/Byron shipper will have to look up. Let’s not use a normal word like "deathly" or "corrupt" or you know... "Yin" which is clearly what they are saying on screen.
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Why does this tiger amulet look like a chameleon crossed with a remora? Wei Wuxian can paint photorealistic bunnies on a flimsy lantern while sitting in a field having distracting teenage lust, but two months of meditating with super magic gets him a tiger that looks like a chameleon. And don’t try telling me this is a traditional-Chinese-art vibe because this jade tiger from frickin 1000 BCE is way more tigerish than Wei Wuxian’s attempt. 
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Try harder next time, Wei Wuxian.
This is thousands of cultivators having a battle.  What do you mean, it looks like about 40-60 dudes?
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 Any time someone in The Untamed refers to a number of people, it is like when you do your high school play and look off into the wings at nothing and say “Hark, A Ship Approaches!” and everyone’s parents nod indulgently.
Jin Clan Mountain Hunt:
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*viewership nods indulgently*
This is Captain Blowhard, over on the right, courtesy name Clan Leader Yao. His job is to talk smack about Wei Wuxian and stick up for whoever is the biggest asshole in any given scene.  
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He represents mainstream cultivation-world values so here he is shanking one of his allies to take the deadly amulet of evilness.
The Present Day
Spilling All That Yiling Laozu Tea
Down at the Exposition Tea Shop, the Lan juniors are chilling and listening to Tea Dude tell the story of Yiling Laozu. 
How did they get permission to take this field trip? “Principal Qiran, we want to go downtown to hang out with the local rabble and learn about your favorite person, Wei Wuxian.”
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Waiting in the wings is the man with a fan and a plan, Nie Huaisan(g), who is paying tall loot to get these stories told.  
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...Why? Is Mo Xuanyu having tea here and listening? Or is Wei Wuxian being summoned back by hearing all this smack being talked about him? *Shrug.*
Gank Your Soul
Drunk flag guy out here talking about spirits. Wikipedia tells me that In one school of Daoist thought, a human being has a collection of physical souls (魄 pò) and ethereal souls (魂 hún). Drunk flag guy is saying “hún ” at the moment. 
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The many types of souls don’t translate well into English, where spiritual vocabulary has always been shackled connected to Christian beliefs, and is too limited for this context. So when the subtitles have conversations like “Is it a soul eater? No, no, it’s a spirit taker!” just roll with it. (Speaking of hún, if you have any interest in linguistics, do yourself a favor and go read all the wonderful meta @hunxi-guilai​)
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The spirit-carrying flag looks a lot like Raava and Vaatu from Korra which...probably doesn’t mean anything.
The Demise of our Trill Host
Suicide #2 happens about 8 minutes in. 
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Mo Xuanyu is that hippie roommate with the annoying wind chimes and bead curtains and blood spatter.
He is super mad at his terrible family and also at Jin Guangyao, who sent him home to his terrible family. I wonder if Fan Man Nie Huaisang influenced Jiggy’s decision-making there. Mo Xuanyu’s choice to die for revenge might be excessive, given how easy it actually is to murder the Mo family.
Being Alive Is Fine I Guess As Long As I Get To Fuck WIth People
Wei Wuxian starts his new life by splashing a little water on his face, which instantly makes his hair go from this
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to this. 
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He looks at his reflection and wishes he was dead, which--mood--but he gets over it as soon as he finds someone whose day he can fuck up.
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And he is ALL in on being crazy. 
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OP wishes she had the Wei Wuxian kind of crazy instead of the kind she actually has. 
Meanwhile, this is the sane Mo cousin:
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This asshole is wearing one of the best fabrics in the whole show, incidentally. Asshole.
My favorite bit of Wei-Mo craziness is when Wei Wuxian does a meaningless 360 all the way around this dude before ducking in the opposite direction, which is like when I make 4 right turns around a whole block to avoid making a single left across traffic.
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Perhaps I Do Miss One Thing In This Life
Wei Wuxian has pining thoughts about Lan Wangji, so he plays WangXian on a fucking blade of grass well enough for Sizhui to recognize it from his dad's guqin jams. 
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Wei Wuxian is a better flautist than even Inspector Gadget BeatBoxing Flute Guy (Google it).
Our Many Many Spirit Lure Flags have Lured A Spirit, Oh Shit
Lan Clan has a Plan and Wei Wuxian is a Fan
Having one single lure flag stuck in Wen Ning’s torso caused spirits to basically eat him alive, so to catch one evil spirit, 6 disciples holding flags on the roof plus 8 more flags on the ground seems like a good amount. Wei Wuxian is like “yep, a single one of these will lure every spirit for five miles, carry on, younglings.”
Baxia Does the Heavy Lifting
Wei Wuxian is supposed to kill four people because of this curse situation, and in the course of the series they all die, and he kills exactly zero of them. The curse on Wei Wuxian’s arm should be called the scorekeeper curse. 
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Baxia’s spirit pinballs around the Mo clan, rapidly killing three people on Mo Xuanyu’s list plus a couple extras for good measure.  Who's a good blade? Baxia is! Yess you are! Yes you are!
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This here is the exact point in the show where your friend, who has listened to you squee about The Untamed for three months and finally agreed to watch it with you, will say “what the fuck am I watching?” and try to get up off the couch. Tackle them! 
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This also the point where we all realize that the prosthetic and practical effects in this show were probably not made by the people who made the clothing, because the quality is...variable. The white eyeballs are pretty good, but the glove of death is ridiculous.
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Camera operator: why you gotta take it out on me?
While Baxia goes to town on the Mo clan, the Lan Clan babies...watch? And tie up the various victims after they are already goners. 
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Narrator: Her son is dead.
Meanwhile, 
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Wei Wuxian, you motherfucker. You’ve been alive for like 7 hours and you’re already building a new zombie army. No wonder you don’t want them to call Lan Wangji.
Hanguang-Jun Cut It Up One Time
Lan Wangji shows up and very slowly kicks zombie ass with his guqin. If you are used to Hong Kong action speeds, you will find The Untamed very peaceful.
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 All of the baby Lans fan squee up at Lan Wangji like he's the cultivation world's David Bowie and...they're not wrong. Jesus Fuck, he’s charismatic.
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Lan Wangji is soft boi when he discovers this murderous sword full of dead-bastard energy, because it reminds him of his true love.
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Like the talk about souls, the conversations about the nature of the murderous entity really don’t survive translation into English.
Servant: it’s a ghost! 
WWX: it’s not a ghost, it’s a spirit
Babies: It’s a spirit
LWJ: it’s not a spirit, it’s a [...] ghost
Our Protagonist gets the FOH
Wei Wuxian is soft boi when he sees Lan Wangji, but not so soft that he considers actually, like, sticking around. 
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Wei Wuxian is also clueless boi, noting Lan Wangji’s white clothing and thinking, as in the past, that he looks like he’s dressed in mourning. The term he uses is 戴孝, which google tells me means the type of outfit worn by Jiang Yanli after Wen Ning rips her husband’s heart out someone who is in mourning. 
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Actually, Wei Wuxian, you dumbass, he is in actual mourning, actually, for you. Dumbass. He probably packed away all of his blue outer robes 16 years ago and only takes them out occasionally to reminisce about that nice date you had on your mountain of corpses. 
On his way out the door Wei Wuxian manages to find a red ribbon for his beautiful hair, so things are looking up. 
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Where to go next...hey I know, how about that one haunted mountain with the killer statue, you know, the one that all my executed friends and child came from? That’ll be fun and a great way to put the past behind me!
Episode 02 Restless Rewatch is here!
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spooderboyandtincan · 4 years ago
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The 12(ish) Days of December
A/N: I intended to write a Hanukkah themed chapter, but unfortunately I suffered some burnout and I couldn’t really start it :(((((( I plan and hope to add on to this in the future, I just wanted to get it out here on time! Happy Holidays everyone!!
Read on Ao3
/ST*RKERS DNI/
I
“Che palle!” May cried as she and Peter stepped out of the elevator. “Tony, what the hell is that?!”
“It’s a giant teddy bear,” Tony called back from the kitchen. “It’s for you, Pete!”
“Me?” Peter gasped, his face lighting up. He charged toward the ten-foot teddy bear and tackled it. The giant brown bear teetered slightly with his weight but didn’t tip over. “He’s so soft!”
Tony came out of the kitchen with a wide grin on his face. He wiped his flour-coated hands on his pants and tried to give Peter a hug without pushing him off the bear,
“He’s so beautiful!” Peter giggled, wrapping his arms around the bear’s neck. “And huge!” 
Tony nodded in a proud, self-satisfied sort of way. Besides being delighted that the boy clearly adored his gift, he now had proof that this was obviously how one should react when presented with a ten-foot-tall stuffed animal. He'd have to take a picture and send it to Pepper.
May tossed her purse on the floor and shook her head at Tony. “As long as you can find a place for it, I’m not complaining,” she chuckled.
“I’ll rent a storage unit somewhere,” Tony supplied, taking a sip of coffee from his Iron Man shaped mug. Tony treasured that mug, which had been gifted to him by Peter several months ago. He never brought it in the lab for fear that Dum-E or U would break it, and he kept it in the cabinet next to his “1# IronDad” mug (also a precious gift from his kid).
He looked back to Peter, who had wrapped his arms around the bear, which was tilting dangerously. “Be careful, kiddo,” he said, biting his lip. But the moment the words got out of his mouth, Peter and the gigantic teddy bear started to topple to the ground.
“Shit-!” he began, darting forward, only to be met by Peter’s giggles.
“Nooo. Leave me. ‘M comfy.” He rolled onto the bear’s big belly and sprawled across it. “This’s perfect,” he hummed, closing his eyes. 
Tony and May shared a slightly exasperated yet fond glance. Tony flopped down next to Peter, tucking a curl behind his ear. “Now that I think about it, spider-baby,” he mused, “I’ve got something else for ya.”
Peter perked up and opened his eyes. “What?” 
Tony gave him a large grin and ran a hand through his curls. “C’mere.” He wrapped an arm around his shoulders and led Peter to his room.
May sighed. “I swear to god, Tony, if you’re giving him an Audi….” she muttered. 
“I’m not!” the man insisted. Peter rolled his eyes and sat down on his bead. 
Tony put a warm palm over his eyes. “Close your eyes, bud.” 
Peter tried to keep his eyes closed as Tony ran to his own room, tearing through what sounded like wrapping paper and knocking boxes over with no absence of cursing. 
Moments later, a small, leather 4x4 inch box was placed on his open palm. He opened his eyes and looked first at the box, then at up Tony, who smiled. May shrugged and gestured to open it. 
Inside the box rested a thin, slender watch with a smooth black strap. The face of the watch was rectangular, and when Peter pushed the button on the side it lit up, displaying the time above what looked like a mini arc reactor. It resembled the StarkWatch he was wearing that very moment, except it looked more high-tech.
“A new StarkWatch, specially customized for you, by yours truly,” Tony said. “Your old one looked pretty busted, even though they’re supposed to be indestructible.” Peter snickered at Tony’s gentle jab. “And it’s got a few minor upgrades. You can set the lock screen, for one. And it should be trackable from anywhere in the universe, and I mean everywhere. And you can call me, or May, or Ned or Rhodey or whoever from the top of Mount Everest or the bottom of the Mariana Trench.”
“Wow,” Peter whispered, tracing the sides of the watch before strapping it onto his wrist. “Thank you, Mister Stark! I love it! It’s so cool!” 
“What happened to ‘Tony?’” he grumbled playfully, giving his spider-baby a kiss on his head. “I’m glad you like it, buddy. It’s basically the same stuff as your old one, just better.” 
Then, to both Peter and May’s surprise, Tony bent down and grabbed a colorful red bag covered in golden glitter. Peter laughed.
“Tony, it’s only the ninth!” May snorted, her eyebrows raised past her hairline.
“That’s because we’ll need these before Christmas,” Tony said wisely. He handed Peter a soft package wrapped in green tissue paper and watched him tear the packaging in half.
“It’s so ugly!” he cried, holding up a garish green sweater. There was a plastic red ball attached to the big reindeer's nose and tiny bells were tied onto the reindeer’s harness. Little snowflakes were patterned all over, and Peter couldn’t help but laugh. “I love it, Tony!” Peter pulled the sweater on and was delighted to find that the fabric was incredibly soft, instead of the unbearably itchy sweaters he had owned in the past. “It’s perfect!”
Tony laughed fondly at his already thrilled kid. “If you think it’s good now, wait till you see this. FRI, lights off,” he ordered.  
Peter felt Tony fumble with something on his shoulder, and suddenly the sweater lit up. The reindeer’s nose lit up bright red, the snowflakes began to glow, and, as cliché as it might have sounded, the bells gave a merry jingle as Peter laughed.
“I love it!” He tackled Tony with a hug, relaxing slightly in the man’s arms. 
“Good,” Tony chuckled, “‘Cause I’ve got about three more for you and your aunt each.”
II
“Tony, where’re we going?” Peter whined, his breath fogging the window. “Tell meeee!”
“My lips are sealed,” Tony said, pretending to zip his lips shut and throw away the key. “We’re almost there, Rudolph, don’t worry.”
“Rudolph?!” Peter snorted.
Tony reached over the console to ruffle his hair. “I thought you might want a Christmas nickname,” he explained. “Plus, y’know, you already had a nickname available that only required a bit of simple reconstruction, Roo.”
Peter shook his head. “Just tell meeee!”
“No. Never.”
“Pleeease?”
“I physically can’t, buddy.”
“Tell me! Tellmetellmetellme pleeeeeeeeease?”
“Will… to keep secrets… decreasing,” Tony said robotically. “Fine. We’re going ice-skating, Petey-Pie.”
Peter gasped, his big chocolate eyes going wide. “Really?!” 
Tony grinned and glanced over to his kid. “Really.” He wished he could stop the car and give his sweet boy a hug. 
“But…” Peter bit his lip. “I don’t really know how. I mean, I went ice skating with Ned a few years ago but we mostly fell over and bruised our butts.”
Tony chuckled fondly. “That’s okay kiddie, I’ll show you the arts. Rhodey and I went when we were in college, and man, we had a blast laughing at each other. Oh- we’re here!”
“Tony, I don’t have any skates!” Peter realized as they hopped out of the car. 
“I already got you some, Pete, don’t worry,” Tony assured him. He opened the trunk of the car. “And I brought you an extra hat, a coat, a scarf, some better gloves, extra socks and a pair of snow pants.” 
“Tony,” Peter began, leaning into the hug the man offered him all the same. He grumbled and rolled his eyes but let Tony wrap a scarf around his neck and trade his thin woolen gloves out for much warmer, thicker ones. Peter had to admit he felt a lot warmer. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Thanks, Pete. M’kay, I’ve got these fancy red and blue skates for you and red and gold for me.” 
“And I’m sure the color choices were random?” Peter asked sarcastically. “Wait- these have the Spider-Man logo on them! Mr. Stark, are there Spider-Man ice-skates?!”
Tony bent to kiss his forehead. “There are, Pete. Pretty cool, huh?”
“So cool! I love ‘em, thank you, Tony!” He held up the skates to admire them. “They’re great!”
“No problem, buddy. It was my pleasure.”
Peter flopped down in the snow and pulled on his skates. He looked up to admire the tall oak and pine trees swaying gently with the wind, the last leaves of fall scattering along the icy roads. A pair of snowflakes drifted down to his coat, and Peter felt a sort of peace flow through him.
“Petey? Are you comin’?” Tony called, skating back and forth along the edge of the pond. Peter knotted the laces of his skates tightly and struggled to his feet.
“I’m trying!” he yelled, staggering forward. He leaned over the ice and felt a bit dizzy. It was about a foot down to the actual ice, and Peter knew without a doubt that he would slip if he tried to get down. “I dunno, um….”
“I gotcha, Petey, don’t worry.” Tony held out his arms and gave him a reassuring smile. Hesitantly, Peter lowered stepped onto the frozen pond, grabbing Tony’s arm and clinging to him as he got both feet on the ice. 
“Good job, Roo!” the man praised, lifting him up by the armpits so he was standing up a bit straighter. He couldn’t help but compare Peter to a fawn who just stood up for the very first time, and the boy’s big bambi eyes weren’t helping his case. “Getting on the ice is the hardest part. I’ve landed on my ass more times than I can count.” Tony frowned at himself. “Sorry I said ‘ass,’ don’t repeat that.”
Peter snorted. His skates slipped and he felt Tony’s arms tighten around him. “Whoa there, buddy. I gotcha.” He tucked a loose curl behind the teen’s ear and kissed his cheek, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.
“‘M’kay, you ready, Pete?” 
“Heck yeah!” 
Tony grinned. “Okay, first, you said ‘heck yeah’ instead of ‘hell yeah’ and that’s adorable,” he teased, chuckling at Peter’s eye roll. “Second: let’s wreck this rink!”
Though of course, they ended up making more of a wreck of themselves rather than the rink.
The very second Peter slid his foot forward, he found himself spontaneously falling backwards. Luckily, Tony caught him easily and gently pulled him back up. 
“I meant to do that,” he huffed, his small hands scrabbling at Tony’s coat. “It was- completely- intentional.” 
“Of course it was, Roo, I know that,” he said with a raise of his eyebrows. “No one has the grace and agility you do.”
“I am graceful, Tony! How dare you?!” Peter grumbled. 
Tony might have made a quip about the arms wrapped tightly around his waist for support, but he decided his poor kid had suffered enough. Despite bumping into every table or chair in his path, Peter was surprisingly graceful, especially when he swung with ease through the air on a thin stand of webbing. “You are graceful, buddy, I promise,” he admitted. “You wanna give it another try?”
Peter stuck his tongue out at him, adjusted his hat, and gingerly took a step forward. Tony tensed, ready to lunge forward and catch him if the boy slipped, but found himself letting a quiet cheer. “Nice job, Pete!”
Peter beamed at him, his legs spread far apart and his arms extended for balance. He tipped backwards and Tony started to jump forward, but Peter flailed his arms around and regained his balance.
“I think you’re getting the hang of it, kiddo!” Tony called as Peter made his way to the opposite side of the pond. He winced suddenly, protectiveness flooding through him at his retreating figure. “Be careful! Wait for me!”
He caught up to Peter easily and zipped in front of him, catching him by the shoulders. “You’re doing great, baby!” 
“Thanks,” he giggled, looking down at his shoes. He wiped his red nose with the back of his hand and sniffled. “‘S fun!”
Tony smiled and adjusted Peter’s scarf. “Glad to hear it.”
“Tony?” he asked. “Can you do a figure eight?”
The man paused to consider this, clicking his tongue. “Only one way to find out!” he decided. 
Peter watched excitedly as he skated out to the middle of the pond, looking practically weightless. Tony took a deep breath, prayed he didn’t break any bones, then pushed off. He zoomed around the pond in a perfect figure eight, only faltering for a brief moment, and traced over it twice before he skidded back to Peter. “Ta-da!”
Peter applauded, clearly very impressed. Tony bowed exaggeratedly and pretended to be embarrassed. 
“D’you think I should try?” Peter asked. 
Tony smiled fondly. “Only if you want to. I know you’d nail it though.”
And he did. Peter skated carefully to the edge of the pond and performed the figure eight beautifully, spinning in circles and laughing when he got a bit too dizzy.
Tony skated up to him, his eyes huge. “Jesus, Petey, that was fantastic!” He pulled the embarrassed teen to his chest and wished, not for the first time, that Peter wasn’t wearing a hat so he could kiss the top of his head. He settled for Peter’s cheek instead. “Wow, baby, that was amazing! Wait- I gotta sign you up for the Olympics. Where’s my phone- oh, I got it.” He pulled his phone from his coat.
“Tony, nooooo!” Peter protested.
“Tony yes. You’re too talented.”
“It was just a figure eight!” he giggled. “And you did one too so you hafta sign yourself up.” Peter looked up to the gray sky and shivered as the brisk winds tore at his heavy coat and scarf. He leaned even closer to Tony.
“You cold, baby?” Tony rubbed his back gently, hoping to generate some warmth. “Wanna go back home? We can come back here anytime you want.”
Peter sighed a bit sadly, but he had to admit he was freezing. He and Tony skated back to the car quickly. Snowflakes began to fall rapidly down as gusts of wind tried to upset their balance. Tony helped Peter onto the bank and they hurriedly yanked off their ice skates.
They found refuge in the car only when Tony turned the heater up full blast and  leaned over the console to pull Peter into his arms. Peter’s shivers that had been worrying him far more than Tony had been willing to say eventually died off and together they watched what was now practically a blizzard raging outside.
“Just in time,” Tony mumbled into Peter’s curls. “Feel any better, baby?”
He grew worried when he received no response and pulled back. Peter’s eyes were shut and his breathing slow, though he made a small whimpering noise in the back of his throat when Tony pulled away. Tony smiled, a tender, loving light in his eyes and pulled Peter back into his arms, cradling his kid against his chest and rubbing his back soothingly. “‘M here. ‘M here, baby, don’t worry,” he cooed, planting a kiss on his forehead. 
Peter curls tickled his cheek, his warm breath heating the skin of Tony’s neck. The console between him and his kid was uncomfortable and hard against his side, but he wouldn’t have moved for the world. Tony held Peter tightly and closed his eyes.
Maybe they could stay there a little while as they waited for the blizzard to pass.
III
Tony had been brewing a hot cup of coffee in the kitchen when a disheveled, sniffling, sleepy Peter face-planted into his back.
“Whoa, bud!” Tony spun around and caught the boy under the armpits. “Hey, hey. Are you okay?” He tilted Peter’s chin back and found that his nose was bright red, his eyes were half-lidded, and his bedhead was a lot worse (though still absolutely adorable) than it usually was.
“‘M fine,” Peter sniffled, leaning heavily against his chest. “Missed you.”
“Oh, baby,” Tony murmured, wrapping his arms around the small teen, “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, okay?” He gave his definitely-not-sick spider-baby a smooch on his temple. “You’re pretty warm,” he noted with a hint of worry in his voice. He pressed the back of his hand to the teen’s forehead. “Do you wanna lie down, kiddo?”
Peter shook his head weakly. “Wan’ you.”
Tony’s heart melted and he turned into a pile of mush. In this tired, sick, achy state Peter was clingier than ever, and all he wanted was him. He wanted Tony. He kissed Peter’s temple. “I’m gonna stay right here, Petey, don’t worry,” he assured his kid. “I promise.” 
Tony held Peter with one arm while he rummaged through the kitchen cabinets with the other. “FRI? What’s up with the spider-baby?”
“Peter is exhibiting symptoms of a common cold, such as coughing, sneezing, a runny nose, and a fever,” the AI replied. Tony felt a pang of worry and empathy in his heart. 
“Okay. I’ve got your pain meds,” he announced in a whisper. “Do you want water or OJ?”
Peter decided on the latter, not bothering to raise his head but simply mumbling “juice” into the man’s chest. Tony hummed in agreement and attempted to pour a glass for himself one-handedly (most of the juice ended up on the counter, but holding his sick kid was far more important than pouring orange juice).
He led the boy to the couch, a steadying hand around his shoulders. Peter snuggled against him, coughing and sniffling. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand and shivered.
Tony placed two white pills into palm. Peter took a hesitant sip of his drink and gulped down the pills. Tony tucked an errant curl behind his ear and placed a kiss one his temple. 
With Peter still in his hold, he strained to reach the weighted electric blanket that had fallen behind the couch. With a painful crack from his twisted back, he finally managed to get his fingers around the feather-soft blanket and settled back on the couch with a triumphant grunt.
He wrapped the electric blanket tightly around them both. Peter’s shivering caused a surge of fierce protection to run through his veins, and Tony hugged him to his chest, pressing a kiss to his soft, though slightly sweaty curls. He glared at the dark corners of the room, as if somehow the very cold that was making his child suffer so much would leap from the shadows.  
Peter found comfort in the vibrations of Tony’s chest and the beat of his heart. The calloused fingers running through his hair and the occasional kiss against his temple soothed him beyond measure, and without ever realizing it, Peter started to drift off. Compared to when he had woken up, soaked with sweat, wheezing and sniffling and rather nauseous, he felt so much better in his father-figure’s embrace.
Dimly, he noticed that Tony was talking to him. He thought he recognized the words coming out of his mouth, and he realized suddenly that Tony was reading Mr. Willowby’s Christmas Tree to him. That book had been Peter’s favorite when he was a small toddler, and hearing the familiar words aloud brought a big burst of happiness to his chest. 
Peter let his eyes slip shut for a second. The headache that had been pounding in his head was completely gone and in Tony’s arms, he felt incredibly warm and cozy and happy. 
When his eyes opened again, he determined that Tony had finished reading the book. If he had had enough energy, he would have asked him to read another. But much to his delight, he realized Tony had already picked up another book.
And just before his eyes fluttered shut, he heard Tony’s gentle voice speaking, full of love. “I love you, Petey.”
I love you too.
IV
“Mmm, Tony, the spaghetti was fantastic!” May exclaimed as she loaded her plate into the dishwasher. “I need that recipe, it’s just too good!” 
Tony looked at Peter out of the corner of his eyes. The boy shook his head frantically and drew a finger across his throat. Tony snickered. “Thank you, May, I’m glad to hear that,” he said.
To be completely truthful, he felt like throwing up. During the dinner, Peter had chatted enough to distract him, but now his emotions were left to himself, and Tony had barely been swallowed by them. He stuffed the last plate in the dishwasher and took a few long, deep breaths. He massaged his forehead and blinked, sitting down heavily on the couch.
Tony’s heart was beating out of his chest. He looked up to the boy, who was texting someone- probably Ned, completely oblivious. “Pete?” he began shakily. “Do you think we could talk for a second?” He and May shared a glance. She realized immediately what he was about to do and gave him an encouraging smile and a thumbs up. 
“Yeah!” Peter vaulted onto the couch with a laugh. His grin faded when he saw how worried, how scared the man looked. Alarm kindled in his chest. “What’s wrong, Mr. Stark?”
Tony couldn’t bring himself to laugh at the cookie crumbs in the corners of his mouth or the way his hair frizzed everywhere as he pulled his Santa hat off. He swallowed and took a deep breath.
“Um-” Tony had to clear his throat. He reached down and grabbed a briefcase leaning against the couch that Peter hadn’t noticed before. “Uh,” he tried. He pulled two papers out of the briefcase and stared at them for a long while. “Do you think that you could give these a read, kiddo?”
Peter nodded silently and took them. He looked up at Tony, his head tilted in confusion.
He looked to the papers. His eyes widened in disbelief. “W-what? I-” He turned the papers over as if there would be a sticky note saying “IT'S A PRANK!” on the back. “What? W-what? I-I don’t-” Peter shook his head. 
He couldn’t stop looking at those cream-colored papers. 
Child: Peter Benjamin Parker
Adopting Parent(s): Anthony Edward Stark 
The rest of the paper was blank, except for Tony’s signature at the bottom. 
“Am I asleep? This-this is a dream, right?” Peter's eyes were filling with tears but he didn’t bother to wipe them away.
“It’s not a dream, sweetheart,” May said gently. “It’s real.” She squeezed his knee, hoping to ground him.
“Really?” He opened his mouth but couldn’t seem to form words. He gaped like a fish, reading the adoption papers over and over again. “You-you wanna adopt me?” he finally managed to squeak out.
Tony finally gathered the courage to look at his kid. “Yeah, baby. But only if you want to, okay? Nothing would change, though. We’d- just be making it official. Everything would be the same except-” He throat closed, and suddenly he couldn’t speak. 
Except Peter would be his official son- legally, on paper. And Tony would be his official dad. (There was no way Tony wasn’t already his dad.)
“What are you thinking, baby?” he murmured, instinctively tucking a curl behind Peter’s ear with shaky hands. 
Tony’s gentle touch was enough to break the dam of emotions that had been holding back. Peter sniffled, then burst into tears and practically jumped into his dad’s arms. 
Tony hugged him tightly, rubbing a hand up and down his back and pressing long kisses to his temple. Peter blubbered into his chest, happy tears soaking Tony’s sweater. May wrapped her arms around the two and squeezed them both tightly.
Tony felt tears prickle in his own eyes and he dropped his forehead to Peter’s curls. “Is that a yes?” he finally managed to say.
Peter giggled wetly and nodded frantically against his chest. 
A grin as wide as a dinner plate crossed Tony’s face. He realized suddenly that tears were streaming down his cheeks, but he didn’t wipe them away. He kissed the top of Peter's head and squeezed him tighter. 
May pressed a quick kiss on Peter’s cheek and stood up. “I’ll be back in a bit,” she said, sensing that the father and son might want a moment alone. 
Tony rocked his kid back and forth, rubbing his back and pressing kiss after kiss to his cheek. “I love you,” he murmured into his chestnut curls. “I love you.” IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou.
“Love you,” Peter babbled. “I love you too. I love you.”
He held Peter at an arm’s length, still grinning. Then he pulled his kid back to him again and kissed his cheek, wiping away his tears with the pad of his thumb. “I love you.”
Peter sniffled, wiping his nose with his sweater. He wrapped his arms around Tony’s neck and curled around him like a koala. He leaned heavily against his dad’s chest, his breathing beginning to even out. Tony’s chest vibrated with every “I love you so much, Petey” and his ceaseless murmurs of love and comfort.    
“Love you, Dad,” he said sleepily, his eyelids drooping. 
A lump formed in Tony’s throat that he couldn’t seem to swallow past. Tears started to trickle down his cheeks. “Petey-” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “I love you so much. So damn much, okay?” He ran his hand up and down the boy’s back, kissing his temple and trying to blink his happy tears away. 
Tony felt himself slowly drifting asleep. He blinked, and then his cheek was resting on his kid’s curls. His eyes closed again, and suddenly May was there, draping a blanket over them. He tried to tell her to get Peter’s special heated blanket, because his poor kid couldn’t thermoregulate and absolutely hated the cold. Then he realized that she had already tucked it around the boy and sighed in relief, finally letting himself relax.
May settled on the opposite side of Peter and wrapped an arm around him. Within minutes she was snoring quietly, but Tony was too tired to notice. A wave of joy and peace and love washed over him, and his eyes slipped shut.
~~~~~
/ST*RKERS DNI/
~~~~~
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moon-spirit-yue · 4 years ago
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Alright time for what Charanya was up to during the Druun apocalypse! There will be a couple more posts about Charanya because there is just so much I have to say about her. Since she cuts her hair after the Druun hit I think it’s a good idea to show what young teen Charanya looked like. The art is @baydews and the link is here: https://href.li/?https://picrew.me/image_maker/415524.
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• The months following the Druun apocalypse, Raya and Charanya were a wreck
• To make matters worse, people from other lands were trying to steal the resources Heart has
• Charanya and Raya were NOT about to let that slide. They agreed that the rest of the world hurt Heart enough
• Basically, the first few months of the apocalypse was Raya and Charanya stopping people from getting to Heart’s supplies with traps, scaring them with old legends, and so much more
• Think home alone but ratld edition
• They also went to other lands and spread rumors that bandits and Druun were overtaking Heart
• People stopped trying to take things from Heart after about five months
• When they were sure no one was going to try and take Heart’s resources, Raya set out on her quest to find Sisu
• Charanya had a different plan. She knew that while the majority of Heart’s citizens got turned to stone, there were many of their people that escaped on their own or another land’s boat
• This made her determined to help the remaining Heart citizens in any way she can. She planned to track them down and drop off extra jade, food and water on a regular basis until Raya could find Sisu and fix this mess
• Besides, someone needed watch after Heart and take care of the land so that it would stay a beautiful and prosperous place
• The girls dragged out an abandoned boat to a big lake in the middle of Heart, anchored it right in the center so that they could have a safe place to sleep even without the gem piece
• They used a small row boat to go to and from land and the boat
• Charanya realized that with her grandma gone there would be no one to take care of her hair. She figured it would be best to just let the bangs grow out. She also wanted to cut her hair so that the bangs would be as close to her real hair length as possible
• She got Raya to tie a ribbon around her hair at about shoulder length and sliced it off with her Ba’s sword. She wore a headband to keep her growing bangs out of her face
• Both girls were crushed when Raya first left to search for Sisu, but they knew they had two different missions that they had to complete
• With Raya taking the gem piece, Charanya is way less protected from the Druun than Raya. Thankfully, Heart has plenty of bodies of water
• Whenever Charanya saw the Druun she would sprint and fling herself in the nearest body of water
• This caused her habit of constantly wearing revealing clothes and bathing suits
• She figured it would be best not to ruin her clothes that covered up more. Plus she didn’t want to deal with the extra weight when she was swimming
• Since she only ever saw Raya in Heart anyways she wasn’t worried about people judging her clothing style
• I also think that Heart has very moderate temperatures so there’s never any snow and storms are a rare occasion so Charanya never had any problems with being too cold either
• She spent over a year tracking down every remaining Heart citizen, but she finally found them all shortly after her fourteenth birthday
• As she was tracking down former Heart citizens that had to move after the Druun, she was also taking care of the land itself. Maintaining crops, cleaning up places so that they didn’t look like a huge wreck, that sort of thing
• Obviously considering the fact that she’s only one person her efforts weren’t perfect but she did the best she could
• She also hid all the jade in various locations on the off chance that someone did come to Heart to steal more resources
• Since Charanya’s mom taught her about money at a young age, she knew how much the people would need
• Her plan is that once she tracked everyone down, every three months she would go to each land to drop off supplies to those citizens. She would go at the start of every new season
• Raya would also pop back in Heart every few months to get more supplies and jade so when she learned of Charanya’s plan Raya told her about the safest and fastest ways to get to each land
• The times that Raya came to restock on supplies was also when the two girls girl caught up on what the other was doing. They would also arrange to meet at random locations through out the lands to talk
• The girls thought it would be best not to exchange letters because they didn’t want anyone to find out that Heart was a relatively safe place
• The first time Charanya went out to deliver supplies she was jumpy and terrified of anyone that looked her way. Raya’s stories of her time out did NOT help either
• It was the first time she had left Heart in about a year. Not to mention was by herself this time
• She wrote a note to each family explaining the extra supplies and that she would continue doing this every three months for as long as the family needed
• She was beaming with pride seeing the happy and relived faces of her people when they saw the extra supplies. It made her all the more determined to see it through
• Her route was Tail, Fang, Spine, then Talon
• Though she didn’t have to go to Tail for very long. Within the first six months of her little Charanya delivery service pretty much everyone had been turned to stone in Tail since it’s. Ya know. A desert
• Only one Heart citizen was left there and Charanya helped him to move Fang
• Spine also didn’t last the entire apocalypse either. Though it was definitely longer than Tail, everyone turned to stone there by the time Charanya was sixteen
• The last two years of the apocalypse just going to Fang then. Talon
• She ran into some trouble in Fang when she was fifteen and hid in an abandoned tent. However, the tent was not, in fact, abandoned. There sat the most beautiful Fang warrior Charanya had ever seen
• But that story is coming later!
• Anyways, when she wasn’t taking care of Heart or dropping off supplies, Charanya would read to entertain herself
• With little to no human interaction, she had to do something to keep herself occupied
• She was already a book nerd before the Druun hit, it just became 10x worse after the fact
• When Charanya got wind of someone going around stealing gem pieces, she was ecstatic! She knew damn well it was Raya who was taking them which must have meant that finding Sisu worked!
• She raced back to Heart as soon as she heard and tried her best to not have a panic attack about whether Raya was okay
• The day the apocalypse ended, Charanya was taking a nap
• She has been swimming in the lake where her boat is because it was the only thing that would get her tired enough to sleep in the middle of the day. She couldn’t stand not knowing how Raya was doing
• She woke up to cheers, screams, and a lot of sobs
• At first she thought one of the other lands had invaded Heart, but then she saw swarms of people wearing the colors of Heart
• Raya had done it! The Druun were gone for good
• She swam out of her boat and ran as fast as she could to find her mom and grandma
• They were already calling her name and searching for her by the time she got to the place where they had become stone
• Charanya was afraid her family wouldn’t recognize her, but she was suffocated in their hug the second she made eye contact with them
• She sobbed in her mom and grandmas arms for what felt like hours
• Then she remembered Benja and went out to the bridge to see if he was okay
• She arrived when Benja and Raya were hugging and tackled them both in a hug
• It was only after the tearful reunions that she saw Sisu
• She kinda geeked out before bowing and putting the gem symbol above her head as a sign of respect
• But Sisu wasn’t having it and right for the hug
• “Awww you must be that friend of Raya I’ve heard about!” “Talking shit about me, my ray of sunshine?” “Always”
• Seeing all the lands come together warmed Charanya’s heart
• It would take time, but they would all be okay
Taglist: @faithfulwarrior-og, @isitbussinjanelle, @tigerlillyruiz, @ratld-sideblog
21 notes · View notes
edendaphne · 5 years ago
Text
“Discordant Sonata” Chapter 16
New chapter of "Discordant Sonata"! (Feat. adorable art by @corgi-likes-chat​!) Here’s a cropped preview:
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>>Read it here on Ao3<< >>Read it here on Wattpad<<
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CHAPTER 16: LEGATO
Legato: “tied together”; indicates that musical notes are to be connected, so they are played (or sung) smoothly
(Mood Music: Mamma Mia (Swing version) - Opa Tsupa)
[One month later]
“Alright, I’m gonna take the side door and rush upstairs to steal the elven artifact. You got these guys?”
Chat rubbed his hands together, then picked up his controller, adjusting his grip. “Oh baby, I'm itching to try out this new greatsword.”
Marinette nudged him with her elbow. “Don’t aggro too many mobs. Space ‘em out.”
“Did you forget I can stun?" he poked her back.
"No, but you often do,” she quipped. “One sec, buff refresh."
"Ouch, my masculinity! Too bad your regen got nerfed with the last patch.”
"I’ll manage; I bought some extra potions.” She shrugged. “Remember not to blow your rage too early this time. We don't want to pull out prematurely!"
Chat gave her an incredulous look, as if she’d grown a second head.
Marinette winked at him. "I've just seen how you handle that greatsword of yours."
Chat howled with laughter. “Double dagger spec? More like double entendre spec!” He squeezed her shoulder. "You've come so far.”
“Oh, I’ve still got a few tricks up my sleeve,” she replied.
He sniffled and dramatically wiped away a fake tear. “I'm so proud of you."
Marinette giggled and settled herself into a comfortable position, crossing her legs on the floor. Her fingers gripped her controller tightly in anticipation. “Alright, Minou. It’s go time.”
---
Several tense minutes of yelling and frantic button-mashing later, Chat wailed in agony as he plopped backwards, “NOOOO!!! We were so close!!”
Marinette turned around, frowning. “Dude! Why’d you have to go off on your own into that side corridor?! You should’ve known it would be full of stealth enemies!”
Chat’s arms flapped around as he sputtered incredulously. “Y’know what?? We shouldn’t even be here! You’re the one who wanted to two-man a four-person dungeon!”
“We would’ve succeeded if only you’d stuck to the plan, Mr. Curious Cat!”
Chat paused to shoot her a petulant glare. “Well, I guess that means you won’t be needing this epic leather armor you’ve totally been looking for all week, that I just happened to loot from said forbidden corridor! I bet it’ll fetch a high price at the auction house!”
Marinette let out an offended gasp. “You wouldn’t dare!”
“Wouldn’t I?”
“Give it!!” she yelped as she reached across for his controller.
“Nuh-uh! Nope, too late! You should’ve been nicer to me when you had the chance!” He clambered away, but she chased after him.
“Get back here!” she cried, catching him by the waist.
Chat continued to taunt her, holding the controller up high. “Gee, I wonder what kind of trinket I could buy with all the gold I get for this,” he remarked, tapping his finger against his chin.
Marinette grabbed one of the throw pillows from the chaise and thwacked it against him.
“I’m gonna tell Ladybug about your evil deeds!” she threatened.
Chat grabbed another pillow with his free arm and swatted her back with a laugh. “She won’t believe you! I’m her beloved partner, after all!”
“Wanna bet?”
Before he could reply, Marinette tackled him to the ground, grabbing at his belt to hold him in place. She reached for the controller, but his arm was still too long. She adjusted her grip at his side to reposition herself.
Chat squirmed at her touch and yelped, “ACK!! That tickles!”
Marinette’s eyes widened and she looked up at him, a devilish smirk slowly slithering across her face. She crawled on top of him, securing her legs on either side of his hips. And with that, her fingers went to work, mercilessly tickling his ribs and obliques.
Chat screeched and wiggled, desperately trying to scoot away from but failing every time.
“Surrender!” she commanded, continuing her onslaught.
He answered rebelliously between cackles, “Never! But I may scream.”
He thrashed and tried to squirm away, but she had him right where she wanted him. Chat laughed so hard that his eyes began to water, and he begged for mercy in between belly laughs.
Finally sensing her opening, Marinette got ahold of the controller, yanking it away from his lowered arm.
“AHA!” she cried, lifting her arm triumphantly.
Chat’s eyes grew wide and his mouth twisted into an indignant pout, then he used his enhanced strength to lift his hips off the ground, reversing their position so she was the one being pinned.
Marinette gasped in horror and outrage. “CHEATER!! You’re using your super strength!”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’m always this strong,” he quipped back, flexing his arm dramatically. He adjusted his position on top and tried plucking the controller away from her.
Despite being a bit disoriented now that she was on the bottom, Marinette maintained a death grip on the controller.
Chat grabbed her wrists and pinned them over her head and she grunted as she struggled. “Oh, how the tables have turned,” he purred as he trapped them both under a single hand. His other hand trailed down to her waist, poking experimentally, then extending his claws from his fingertips to amplify the sensation.
Marinette writhed and wriggled under his touch, shrieking and giggling uncontrollably.
“Do you yield?” he demanded impishly as he stared down at her flushed face a mere few inches away.
“NEVER!!” she replied tenaciously, defiantly puffing out her chest, as if straightening out her posture would somehow intimidate him, or grant her extra resilience.
“You are soooooo stubborn, Ma Minette,” he chided playfully, squeezing her sides hard and making her squeal some more. Marinette twisted and kicked vigorously, trying to escape, but to no avail.
Their antics were interrupted by a descending musical chime and agonized screams erupting from the laptop screen, which was propped on top of Marinette’s antique chest for easier viewing. The pair stopped, their heads whipping towards the source of the sound.
Their respawned characters had died while they were occupied with their tickle fight.
The pair looked back at each other, then busted into hysterical guffaws.
As they laughed and panted, Chat couldn’t help but notice the way Marinette looked with her long dark hair fanned out on the ground, her tiny freckles more prominent against her reddened cheeks. She really had become quite a stunning young woman after all these years. Despite spending their teenage years together, his attention had always been elsewhere, and he’d never really paid attention to how different she looked now, versus when they first met.
She seemed to notice him staring and smiled, and the rosiness of her cheeks seemed to intensify. Probably from the exertion, he figured. And yet, he couldn’t help but feel his own face beginning to feel hot under her gaze.
She looked like she was about to say something, but as she opened her mouth, a new sound blasted across the room; it was Marinette’s mobile phone.
He felt her twitch underneath him, and for the first time, they both realized the position they’d put themselves in. Anyone who walked in on them at this moment would surely have... questions.
Face feeling red hot at this point, Chat released Marinette’s wrists and got off of her so she could get up and check her phone. Giving him one last cheeky smirk, she stood up to see what the commotion was all about.
She gasped as she checked the screen. “Oh my goodness! I’d totally forgotten, I have a study group in fifteen minutes! I have to get ready!” She turned off the alarm and pocketed her phone, then scrambled to her desk to get her school materials prepped.
Chat’s ears twitched in response. “Oh! It totally slipped my mind as well. Good thing you set a calendar alarm. Otherwise, your classmates would’ve walked in to Chat Noir just casually playing video games at your house.”
Marinette darted to her full-length mirror to look herself over, then dashed over to her vanity to grab her hairbrush.
“Do I look alright?” she asked as she fixed her hair.
“My darling, you look positively radiant,” Chat replied theatrically, taking a seat on the chaise.
“Is my outfit okay?” she continued harriedly. “Should I change? Is my shirt wrinkled? Do these shorts make me look short? Is my hair sticking up in the back?”
Chat grinned at how flustered she was. “Helen of Troy would pale next to your indescribable magnificence, Mademoiselle.”
“Chat,” she jokingly reprimanded, but failed at containing an upwards twitch of her lips.
He shrugged feebly. “You look totally fine. But why? It’s just your classmates.”
Marinette hesitated. “Well… Just… no reason!”
She received a skeptical eyebrow in reply. He knew her better than that (not that she was very good at hiding her feelings in the first place). Giving up any further pretense, her posture drooped in response.
“Alright, alright, the truth,” she conceded with a resigned sigh.
Chat leaned forward imperceptibly, raising his eyebrows in silent query.
“My old crush is gonna be there–”
Chat gasped loudly despite himself.
“–And I wanna look nice!” she continued. “But not like, sizzling ‘I’m tryin’ to steal you from your girlfriend’ kinda hot, ya know? I’m just trying to get past him. I wanna move on. I wanna prove to myself that I’m doing okay. He's still one of my best friends. I need to show that I'm happy for him.” Then she added with a weak smile, “Plus, Alya knows what my wrestle-hair looks like, so I'd have to answer some awkward questions if I don’t look at least somewhat put together.”
Chat closed his mouth, which he hadn’t realized was in “fish gape” mode until just then. He looked down towards the floor, now understanding why she would feel so apprehensive.
Marinette was doing her best. He felt his heart swell with affection and sympathy. He had to help somehow; he always tried to be a source of extra confidence whenever she needed to face challenges. It was the least he could do for her.
Chat stood up, cleared his throat and approached her desk, swishing his tail back and forth as he pondered her words.
“I know exactly what you need,” he offered with an air of authority.
Marinette quirked an eyebrow. “You do?”
He retrieved something from her vanity and, with a flourish, he presented a tube of shiny pink lip gloss. “Ta-da! For the ‘I still look cuter than everyone in the room without even trying’ look.”
Marinette accepted the tube of lip gloss, and she couldn’t help but giggle at his sweetness and sincerity. “Sounds good to me! Thanks!” As she looked into the mirror and applied the lip gloss, she continued, “Sorry to kick you out of the house. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
Chat waved it off. “Of course, don’t worry! I have somewhere I need to be this afternoon anyway, so take your time.”
“Alright. I’ll text you when we’re done, but it shouldn’t take longer than a couple of hours.”
“Okey dokey!” He stood behind her and gave her a quick parting squeeze, then walked over to the floor hatch to exit her room, giving her one last wave. “Later, Maribug!”
Marinette smiled after him as he descended the stairs, amused as always at his unintentionally accurate nickname. If only she could tell him.
Someday, she told herself. Someday there will be no more secrets.
She dearly hoped that that day could come soon.
-----
(Mood Music: You Don't See Me - Safetysuit)
A short while later, Nino and Alya arrived together at the Dupain-Cheng residence. At the door, Marinette greeted them with a smile and invited them inside.
From across the street, a certain tall, blonde, bespectacled figure peeked from behind a tree, deciding to wait a few minutes before making his own entrance.
“It looks like your girlfriend was able to tame her Wrestlemania hair after all,” Plagg whispered from inside Adrien’s pocket.
Adrien poked him gently with his finger. “Hush, she’s not my girlfriend,” he admonished.
“Oh that’s right, I forgot,” Plagg replied. “You already have a secret girlfriend, according to everyone’s favorite international celebrity, Lila Rossi.”
He rolled his eyes. “Ladybug’s not my girlfriend either,” he corrected him again.
Plagg poked him back. “And how did you know I meant Ladybug?”
“W-well, I-I just…” Adrien stammered, his body growing hot in spite of the crisp autumn weather. “It was implied. Anyway, we’re not in a relationship.”
“Not yet, you mean?” Plagg inquired with a quirked brow.
“Plagg! That’s not– I mean… not that I’d mind –AUGH, wait! That’s not what I meant to say!!” he whisper-shrieked as an even more intense wave of heat traveled down his torso. “Let’s just go. I can’t spend a bunch of time trying to figure out what kind of relationship we have, or we’ll be late.”
“You could always ask her tonight during patrol,” Plagg suggested with an eyebrow waggle. “Unless your mouths find something more ‘fun’ to do instead.”
Adrien let out a choked whine, covering his face with his hands. Instead of answering, he scurried down the sidewalk, trying his hardest to ignore the muffled cackles emerging from his clothes.
He rang the doorbell and waited. A few moments passed and the door opened to reveal Alya, who greeted him with a smile.
“Hey, buddy! Glad you could make it! Come on in!”
She led him upstairs to the family room, where everyone’s study materials and textbooks were already spread out onto the dining table.
“Hi, Adrien!” Marinette called from the kitchen area as they walked past. “Make yourself comfortable, I’m just getting us some refreshments.”
Adrien greeted her back, making sure to compliment how pretty she looked today (to which she replied with a small “EEP!!” and a flustered, stuttered, “Thank you”) then he walked over to join Nino.
“Dude! Long time no see!” he said excitedly, standing up to welcome him and give him a tight hug.
Adrien chuckled as he squeezed back. “I know, right? It’s been almost twenty-four hours! I was starting to go through best bro withdrawals!” He set his backpack down and began laying out his own notes and textbooks.
A few minutes passed as they chatted and got situated, but Adrien couldn’t quite focus on the conversation. He was too busy casting (apparently not so furtive) glances towards the door, curiously awaiting whoever else would be attending their study group.
Sensing his restlessness, Nino asked, “Hey bro, you looking for something?”
Adrien shrugged. “Oh, I was just wondering–”
A loud clatter of pots and pans interrupted their conversation, punctuated by a loud “EEEEEK!!”, and the group’s heads whipped towards the kitchen in alarm.
“Marinette?” Alya asked, a worried crinkle appearing between her eyebrows.
“I’m okay!!” Marinette cried from within. “Just bumped into something and uhhh, knocked over some other stuff, no biggie!” she explained sheepishly.
Adrien turned back towards Nino and Alya. “I’ll go help,” he reassured them with a smile.
He walked towards the kitchen, watching Marinette as she put away the kitchenware she’d accidentally knocked out of a cabinet.
He rounded the corner of the bar countertop and called out cheerfully, “Heya!”
Marinette whirled around in surprise with a sharp yelp, accidentally stepping backwards onto a stray metal platter. Adrien watched as if in slow motion as Marinette fell backwards towards the hard tile floor.
“Mari!!”
Adrien reflexively darted forward and managed to catch her just in the nick of time, her body nearly parallel to the floor. He pulled her up gingerly, his arms firmly wrapped around her waist and back, their chests barely touching. They stared at each other as they panted, their breaths mingling together.
Marinette blinked, her cheeks a deep crimson, and she let out a small, nervous laugh. “Nice catch,” she said, almost as a whisper.
Adrien let out a deep, relieved sigh. “I got lucky. Sorry I startled you.”
“No, it’s okay,” she said as he pulled her closer and helped her stand up. “I really should pay better attention to my surroundings,” she continued, rubbing her arm with a rueful expression on her face.
“You’re just trying to do too much all at once, that’s all. Let me help,” he replied. “I can reach all the high shelves!” he offered, flexing his arms theatrically, trying to add some silliness into the awkwardness.
She blinked, then let out a small giggle, cheeks still red. “A-alright,” she replied. “Uh… Why don’t you pour some water into these glasses while I finish cleaning this up?”
“Sure!” he chirped happily.
Marinette smiled and resumed her task of cleaning up the fallen pots and pans. Adrien opened the refrigerator to fetch the water pitcher, then began to fill the glasses.
As he did so, he noticed there were only four glasses on the countertop. Odd. They’d need an extra one for Marinette’s (former) love, wouldn’t they? Were they coming alone or would there be extra people? His chest tingled with curiosity as he wondered who it could be.
Turning back towards him, Marinette said, “By the way, the water pitcher’s inside the refri— oh nevermind, you already found it.”
Adrien chuckled nervously, continuing to pour. He cleared his throat and changed the subject. “So how many glasses do we need?”
Marinette looked back at him with a perplexed look. “It’s just the four of us today, as usual. Unless you invited someone else?”
“Uhh, no, I didn’t. I just thought…”
He trailed off and froze.
Wait a minute. Wait a minute.
Marinette had said–
...but if no one else was coming, then that meant...
No.
No way.
Was Marinette in love with Nino?? He’d had a small crush on her ages ago, but he and Alya had been together for years now. Marinette would never try to wedge herself between them, not in a million years!
Her crush couldn't be Alya either, right? Marinette had mentioned that her crush was male.
But… But that meant–
“Adrien, the water!” Marinette cried, her voice jolting him back from his thoughts.
Horrified, he realized he was still pouring water into the already-filled glass, spilling it all over the countertop.
He gasped as he realized his mistake, and set the pitcher down. “Shoot! I’m sorry, Marinette! I'll clean it up!”
He turned around to open a drawer across the way, bringing out a couple of kitchen towels to soak up the liquid.
“I kinda zoned out,” he continued, wiping up the mess. “I’m really sorry, it looks like I’m only doing more harm than good in here.”
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. But, um...” Her face scrunched up in confusion, “How did you know that’s where we kept the towels?”
Adrien’s eyes grew large. Oops. Why was he so full of blunders today??
“Uhh, I’ve just… I’ve seen you open that drawer before. O-on a different day,” he deflected with a shrug, obviously unable to divulge the true reason he knew his way around the Dupin-Cheng kitchen.
Marinette let out a short hmm . “Yeah, that makes sense. You must have a great memory!” She smiled with a blush and added, “Although that shouldn’t surprise me; I’ve always known you're really smart.”
Adrien forced himself to smile at the compliment, yet a cold chill ran down his spine.
“Not as smart as I should’ve been,” he muttered, speaking about more than just spilled water.
He should have noticed. He should have known. He should have realized sooner that the sadness in her eyes was because of him.
Marinette patted his arm, which tingled under her touch. “No worries, it’s just water. No harm done!” she said sweetly, her kind smile growing even wider.
But I hurt you , he thought to himself. Their conversation from that day rushed back to the forefront of his mind. An indirect and cruel rejection before she ever even got the chance to confess.
He thought back to all the times they’d hung out together as civilians since that fateful day when she came home in tears after school. She’d never treated Adrien any differently after he unknowingly broke her heart. Was she that amazing an actress, or was she just that strong?
Marinette finished putting the drinks and snacks onto a serving tray and bid him to follow her to the living area, where Nino and Alya were eagerly waiting. But how would he be able to concentrate on studying after knowing he’d been the focus of Marinette’s unrequited affections?
No, not affections. She’d used the word “love”. She was actively trying to fall out of love with him.
He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Nevertheless, that nagging feeling stayed with him for the remainder of the study session. -------
(Mood Music: Que reste-t-il de nos amours? - Avalon Jazz Band)
[Later that day]
Marinette squinted suspiciously.
Chat had been acting weird. Or rather, weird for him, which was saying something. He’d been in a somber mood ever since he came back that afternoon after her study session. What had happened during that brief time while they’d been separated?
Speaking of which, she recalled that poor Adrien had been acting out of sorts as well. She’d asked him if everything was alright, but his face went red and he waved it off, saying it was nothing, claiming that he was just a little tired. She hasn’t pressed the issue, especially knowing that he had a difficult home life and busy schedule. She dearly hoped he’d come to her if he ever needed someone to talk to.
In any case, she’d been surprised to find Chat just as morose and out of sorts. She’d asked him what was wrong and he instantly dismissed it. Then he promptly excused himself to his bedroom, which was unusual. Normally he was chatty as can be during dinnertime, then he would hang out with the rest of the family during the evenings, playing videogames or board games, or engaging in conversation over some tea.
But tonight, he’d hardly spoken a word. He had only answered briefly when spoken to, and it was like he could barely look her in the eye. And whenever he did, she could’ve sworn she saw something like… guilt?
She wasn’t sure. But she knew she didn’t like it.
Something was wrong. She was sure of it. Perhaps he wasn’t able to share what it was exactly due to his secret identity, but she was determined to help him fix it. She wanted to know the truth.
Tikki had lightly chastised her, saying that maybe Chat Noir had a good reason why he couldn’t share his problems, and that she shouldn’t pry or be too nosy. But this wasn’t nosiness! They were friends! And not only that; it was her duty as Ladybug to look out for his well-being, right??
Speaking of Ladybug...
They had patrol scheduled for later that night. Should she ask him again, as Ladybug? She pondered it... but no; he’d probably act tough and pretend it was nothing again. They were still working on being more open with each other, but progress was slow. Though not for lack of trying. Chat just… didn’t always know how to relax around Ladybug. He didn’t verbalize it, but it was as if deep down, he was always bracing for imminent rejection. Almost like he expected everything to be a dream, and any day now he’d wake up back at his father’s house, all alone.
Despite being allies, there were still many obstacles that stood in their way, as they both navigated through their partnership trying to find their unique dynamic, still somewhat guarded in their words and actions, to avoid hurting the other. There were invisible walls between them, and every time they’d succeeded in tearing one down, it was only to find that there was another wall behind it.
He’d mentioned before that he would never want to do anything to jeopardize their partnership. So he had a tendency to keep quiet about a lot of things, and not rock the boat, so to speak. He’d mentioned before that he trusted her implicitly. But it was like he didn’t trust himself. Or trust his luck.
He tended to be more open with Marinette, most likely because he didn’t feel that he had to watch what he said as closely for fear of rejection. Thankfully, he’d always been able to confide in her.
That is... until today.
She sighed.
Maybe he just needed an evening where he could be himself and be a normal person, as the guy behind the costume. But how to do that without revealing his identity?
Her eyebrows scrunched deeply as a tiny idea planted itself in her brain, slowly blooming into a full-blown scheme.
“I know that look,” Tikki remarked warily. “You’re up to something, aren’t you, Marinette?”
“Maybe,” Marinette replied with a sly grin. “I think Chat needs to get out of the house and spend a night on the town.” With that, she hopped off her desk chair and walked to the large, antique storage chest in the corner of her room where she kept all her current sewing projects. She rummaged around, searching for something.
“How are you going to do that?” Tikki asked with a concerned furrow of her brow.
“I’ll explain in a minute,” she replied as she found the item she was looking for, then set it down on her chaise.
She then opened her phone’s contacts and dialed Mylene’s father's number.
Tikki peeked over her shoulder. “I’m not sure where you’re going with this, but I hope it helps Chat Noir cheer up,” she remarked.
A few seconds later, there was an answer on the other side of the phone.
“Monsieur Haprèle? It’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I have a quick favor to ask, if that’s alright.”
A few moments later, the phone call ended, successfully putting the next part of her plan into motion. Monsieur Haprèle had graciously offered to stop by and drop off the items Marinette had asked for, since he needed to be in that part of town anyway for an errand.
“I think we have everything we need.” She winked at her kwami. “And now, Ladybug needs to make a phone call. Tikki, spots on!”
----
Chat closed his communicator and plopped onto his bed with a groan. Ladybug had cancelled patrol at the last minute, postponing it to the next day. He ran his hands down his face dejectedly. He supposed that was just as well. As excited as he’d been to meet with her tonight, he probably wouldn’t be very good company, since he’d been in such a crummy mood all evening.
Still… he’d really wanted to see her. Her presence always managed to do wonders for his morale.
He settled for pulling up a candid photo he’d taken of her with his staff’s camera on a different day. She was breathtaking; smiling softly while looking into the distance, the sunset a golden halo behind her, making her look like the angel she was. He smiled at the memory, and he felt his stomach fill with butterflies as they always did when he truly looked at her.
He swiped to the photo he’d taken right afterwards, when she realized he was taking a picture, her eyebrows raised in mild surprise. Then the photo after that, where she’d let out a bashful giggle, bringing her hand to her mouth, looking adorably shy. And the last photo from those few precious moments: Ladybug striking a dramatic pose, with an exaggerated pout that would put any supermodel to shame; a reminder of her sense of humor and willingness to be vulnerable and silly around him.
His smile broadened, his heart now thumping loudly in his chest. She really was so extraordinary.
A sudden rap on his bedroom door jolted him out of his daydreaming. He sat up and put his staff away as he answered, “Come in.”
The door opened, revealing a sharply dressed Marinette. He almost didn’t recognize her at first, since she’d changed out of her clothes from earlier and her hair was up in high twin buns.
“Hey Minou! You busy tonight?”
“Uhh, actually, no. Patrol got moved to tomorrow.”
“Then I have a proposition for you,” she said, her voice high and chipper. Without waiting for a reply, she took his hand and practically dragged him up to her bedroom. “But first, I need to give you something.”
They arrived at her room and she let go of his hand, then knelt by a large cardboard box he’d never seen before that was labeled “Backstage”. She unfolded the top, then started bringing out a myriad of fabrics and materials so hastily, that her movements were practically blurred. She took out a large pair of sunglasses that resembled vintage aviator-style goggles, an almost ninja-esque facemask, and set them aside.
She stood, holding something else behind her back, and walked up to him with a shy grin, her legs doing her trademark nervous shuffle.
“First of all, I- uh… I made you something. I started it a little while back and finally finished it today.” She tucked some hair behind her ear as she averted her eyes timidly, her cheeks dusted with a lovely shade of pink. “I hope you like it.”
She revealed the item behind her back, holding it up with both hands. It was a black zip-up hoodie, with muted, subtle detailing as an homage to his Chat Noir suit, but the main feature was the cat ears sewn onto the hood itself.
Chat’s jaw dropped, and his eyes practically bugged out of his head. This was the cutest, most considerate thing he’d ever been gifted.
He was at a loss for words, but thankfully Marinette interrupted, “I made it for you so you could hang out at home without having to be transformed all the time. ‘Cause I know that can be exhausting for Plagg, and it’d probably be more comfortable for you to be dressed in casual, loose-fitting clothes. Also–” she gestured towards the box behind her, “–my friend’s dad, he’s an actor, and he gave me a box full of masks and other costumes. You can mix and match, so you can have fun with it while still protecting your identity.” She extended the hoodie towards him hesitantly. “Uhh… anyway, obviously I didn’t take your measurements because it would’ve ruined the surprise, but it should fit you just fine. Cotton-polyester blend fleece is pretty forgiving like that.”
Chat gingerly accepted the garment, slowly and carefully running his fingers across the soft fabric as he admired the attention to detail his friend had lovingly crafted into a piece of clothing that would hardly ever be seen by anyone else.
He gaped at her, throat feeling quite dry. “Marinette… I don’t know what to say. Just… Thank you. This is such a thoughtful gift. I… wow.” He brought his hand up to his face, still in total disbelief. “I wish there was something I could do to show you how much I appreciate that you’re always looking out for me. There’s gotta be a way for me to thank you. Y-you’re always so… you’re just… I’m...”
Marinette stepped closer to him, their toes almost touching. The sudden proximity got his attention instantly, and she booped his nose with her index finger. “Well then, this is your lucky day. I know just the thing you can do for me.”
“Uhh, sure! A-anything you need, just ask,” he stammered, slightly confused.
She began, “Sooo, here’s what I was thinking…”
She continued to speak as she paced around the room, sort of beating around the bush, the speed of her words steadily increasing until she was talking a million miles a minute, so rapidly that he could barely understand what in the world she was talking about. Although he distinctly heard the words “movie theater”, “chaperone”, and a pleading, “You wouldn’t want me to go all by myself, would you?”
“Uhhh–” he tried to interject, still deep in his confusion.
“And before you turn me down and say, ‘But I, the dark and mysterious Chat Noir, cannot be seen in public with a civilian!’ don’t worry: I got you,” she interrupted.
She handed him the sunglasses and face mask, and said, “Detransform and put these on, along with your hoodie. You can wear these to the movies and be totally incognito!”
Chat let out a high-pitched “WHAT?!” his voice cracking once it couldn’t go any higher.
“No one will recognize you with the costume! It’s really not that conspicuous! Lots of people wear special blue-light blocking glasses when they watch movies or use their computers. And face masks have become a pretty common way to keep germs from spreading, so nobody will spare you a second glance. You’ll totally blend in with the crowd. And it’ll be my treat! Please??”
Chat rubbed the back of his neck, eyes darting around nervously. This was all so sudden and he was unsure how to respond. He’d never done anything like this before.
“I-I dunno…”
Marinette continued, wringing her hands anxiously as she spoke, “I know this is totally out of the blue, but there’s this one movie I really wanna watch that’s only gonna be in theaters for this one weekend. I’d ask Alya and Nino, but it’s pretty last minute. And even if they’re available, they’d probably just make out during the entire movie anyway, and God knows being the awkward third wheel gets tiresome after a while,” she added with an eyeroll. “Adrien always has to be booked months in advance, all my other girlfriends are busy, and I really don’t wanna go alone; it’s not safe to walk around a big city all by yourself at night, y’know. So, what do you say??”
Chat looked back at her, her big blue eyes silently begging him to come along.
He suppressed a sigh, biting his lip instead. She wouldn’t want to hang out with him if she knew who he really was and what he’d done to her. She’d always been absolutely wonderful to him– to both sides of him– and he’d repaid her by being a crappy friend who’d been totally oblivious to her feelings. He truly didn’t deserve her.
He was about to decline and try to make up some excuse, but just then, her words from earlier in the day popped back into his head: “I’m just trying to get past him. I wanna move on.”
He paused. All day, he’d only been thinking about his own feelings and feeling sorry about himself, wallowing in guilt. But right now, this was about Marinette, and her needs. And at this moment, it sounded like what she needed was someone to just be with her. He could set aside his own apprehensiveness and insecurities to help her out, instead of pushing her away. After all, she always went out of her way for her friends constantly, at the cost of herself. She’d always been so selfless… to the point where she tended to neglect her own needs. He couldn’t let her keep doing that.
Determined to make things right and treat her the way she deserved for once, he nodded and smiled. “Alright, Mari. I’d love to go with you.”
Marinette let out a delighted squeal and resumed doing her excited wiggle-dance, but Chat interrupted, “On one condition! It’ll be my treat instead. After all, what good is a paycheck from the best bakery in Paris if I can’t use it to spoil my absolute favorite roommate?” He squeezed her shoulder with a wink.
Her mouth popped open in shock, then twisted into a pout. It looked like she was about to argue, but in the end, decided not to press her luck and accept his terms.
“Deal.”
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47-shades-of-hitman · 4 years ago
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In Your Likeness | Chapter 6 - Bruised ego and painful memories
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Agent 47 sat idly on a chair in Mr Howard’s office, facing Diana, who had taken place behind it per Howard’s earlier insistence. She had a pile of papers in front of her, her fingers steepled together under her chin, auburn hair tucked neatly into her trademark bun. The navy of her dress was nearly black in the dim light of the lamp standing a little away, which was emitting an odd, orange light.
“So, what have you learned so far? Any ideas on how you plan on bringing this mission to a successful end? Thoughts on your partner?”
He cleared his throat. “Miss (L/n) is… Kind. We’ve been training together for a few days now.”
“How does she fight? Capable enough?” Diana quizzed, jotting something down onto a file with a fountain pen the same shade as her nails.
“I believe so. It’s surprising how fast and agile she is.”
“Very good.” Diana gestured towards 47. “Elaborate, if you will.”
Agent 47 shifted in his seat.
“She’s cunning and quick and uses techniques I would never have thought of. Did you know that the best Assassins can perform something named a Leap of Faith? They throw themselves off somewhere high and then land safely in shrubbery or something soft, as if they’re diving. It’s fast and efficient – where I lack quick climbing skill, never really needing it, she can be on top of a large building in a matter of seconds and leap back off before I can even reach halfway up.”
“Higher grounds.” Diana commented. “Efficient in the art of scaling, then. Anything else?”
“Their wrist-blades. I believe she calls it a hidden blade. When she flicks her wrist, it expands and can easily stab someone a few inches deep. Convenient for quick attacks.”
Diana nodded, seemingly impressed by the findings. “That’s it?”
“No. She uses her enemies’ bodies to get herself where she needs to be, that way she can successfully throw people off, stagger and kill with just one move. It’s interesting to analyse.”
“Do you feel like you’re able to go on your first mission together, then? Did you read the files I handed you earlier?”
“I can do it on my own, too,” 47 said, “since the contract consists of just two targets.”
“Nothing of that, 47. This first mission is meant to see how you’re working together in the field. Should things not work out or get out of hand, the damage isn’t too severe and we know that we should find another way of solving Caelum. For now, this is what – and whom – you have to work with.”
 A little away, you sat in Miranda’s office, flicking through the documents regarding the mission at hand – Karl Wasserman and his new wife Georgina Johnson, owners of a high-end perfume line, found themselves in fraudulent affairs with an Egyptian whitewashing company and thus, a client wanted to see them out of business.
It wasn’t too bad, but to you it was quite new; The Brotherhood of Assassins never really worked with contracts requested by individuals – your mission laid with maintaining peace for the public and protecting it at all costs. A killer for hire was not something you saw yourself as.
“(Y/n), the Eldest requires your presence.” Miranda informed you, typing away at her computer. “He says to meet him in his office in a few minutes.”
“Okay.” you said, standing up and putting away the folder.
You set for the Eldest’s office and found yourself standing at the door, waiting for Mr Howard.
Hearing muffled voices, you recognized one to belong to 47 and the other to Diana. It was difficult to make out, but you caught a few lines nevertheless.
“…But coming back to the subject of agility. Scaling buildings and parkour, is it something you can see yourself doing?”
“I’m not too sure. Miss (L/n) seems eager to teach me, but our way has proven to be perfect for decades. Why change it now?”
“You need to know each other’s methods to prevent miscommunication and confusion.”
You raised an eyebrow, not too amused with hearing of his doubts, but then, you thought it wasn’t too great of a plan either. Sure, Agent 47 was a skilled killer, you had to give him that, and he hadn’t done anything unkind to you other than aiming a gun at you during your first meeting.
In the end, you were both lone wolves. What good would it do to actually go on missions together which didn’t directly affect Caelum, like the contract you had just studied? You’d only weigh each other down.
“This is a situation none of us had foreseen.” Diana said, “We just need to deal with it in this way now. It’s too dangerous to send you both in individually. You know Providence, but you don’t know the Templars. Miss (L/n) knows the Templars, but not Providence. Both of our institutions do not fully trust each other blindly, so we agreed upon sending both sides into the battlefield. Plus, this is too large to tackle on your own. We need an extra pair of eyes.”
“Couldn’t you have asked Lucas?” 47 quizzed.
“No,” Diana said, “We need him for other things in this project. And as I said, both compan—”
“Are you eavesdropping?”
You nearly jumped out of your skin at a sudden, unknown voice behind you. Instincts kicking in, you moved within a second, slamming the stranger against the wall, hidden blade at their throat. It was a man in his early-to-mid fifties – wholly unfamiliar to you – with salt-and-pepper-coloured hair and stormy eyes.
“Who are you? You don’t work here.”
You angled your blade a little, allowing him to move his head a bit upwards, away from it.
“My name is Lucas Grey. I arrived here this morning. I’m part of operation Shalom.”
You huffed, releasing him immediately as you recognized the name, embarrassment creeping up your cheeks and neck. “Right... I ah… I apologise.”
“No harm done. You must be Miss (L/n), then.”
You nodded and crossed your arms, stepping away from him.
“They’re in there, in case you were wondering.”
“You haven’t answered my question yet.” Lucas stated.
“Beg your pardon?”
“Were you eavesdropping on them?”
“No.” you lied, “I was waiting for them to be done discussing whatever they’re talking about. Mr Howard told me to meet him here in a bit.”
As if on cue, the doors of the office swung open and revealed both Diana and 47.
“Ah, I see you met Mr Grey.” Diana said.
“Yeah.” you replied, mentally adding ‘and he met my blade’, feeling ashamed regarding your childish response to his sudden appearance, even though he had said that there was no harm done.
Mr Howard approached and gestured towards the room so that you would enter.
Your gaze briefly crossed 47’s and you gave him an awkward smile, passing him and sitting down in the chair where he had been sitting previously. It was still warm-
-Wait, why would you even notice that? You shifted a little.
Diana and Mr Howard exchanged some quick words.
Meanwhile, 47 and Lucas stood a little behind them, muttering amongst themselves, and then briefly looked at you. You threw one leg over the other to shield your discomfort while you wondered if they were talking about you. Activating your eagle eye to focus on their conversation didn’t help at all, either.
Mr Howard soon entered the office and closed the doors, breaking your line of vision.
“So, (Y/n). We have a lot to go over.”
You hummed in agreement, folding your hands in your lap. “What do you want to know, sir?”
“How are you experiencing this alliance so far?”
“Well, Agent 47 is certainly a man who knows what he’s doing. He’s capable albeit a bit stiff, but there is potential to work together, sir.”
Mr Howard sat down and put on his reading glasses, running a hand through his beard.
“What’s his way of operating?”
“Silent, unseen, avoiding collateral damage as much as possible. The ICA holds a whole arsenal of resources he can use, varying from explosives to poisons and melee weapons. It’s interesting. Sir.”
Mr Howard nodded, scribbling something down. He looked up at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue.
“He told me he uses disguises as well. Knocks people out and takes their clothes in order to blend in, sir.”
You rubbed your arm and leaned back a little. “He hides in plain sight, sir.”
“Does he use higher or lower grounds?”
“Lower, sir.” Mr Howard wrote something down.
“Do you see yourself working on a contract with him?”
“Sir, I am not sure if this is what we stand for as the Brotherhood of Assassins. The people involved are all elite, they don’t intervene with the peace of the common people and—”
“That is none of your concern, (Y/n). A contract is a contract and you are going to fulfil it together.”
You swallowed thickly and nodded.
“You need to show us how you collaborate on the work field, hence why we have given you such a simple contract to carry out. We need to see if this goes well before trying to tackle anything greater. Behind the scenes, we’re preparing a lot. Your opinions on the matter are in this case to be disregarded of. Do you understand me?”
You bowed your head. “Naturally, sir. I apologise for doubting your choices, sir.”
Mr Howard put down his pen and folded his hands in front of him.
“(Y/n), I need to ask you something.”
“Of course.”
You straightened your back, shifting to the edge of your chair.
“You know that I am growing older. Next spring, I’ll be seventy-five years of age. In five years, I am retiring from my work as the Eldest of Council. We need new members on the Council, and I wanted to ask you if you were open to that. You’ll start in the lowest rank, of course, but you’ll be able to climb over time. That way, our people can shift one rank up and you’ll be added.”
Your eyes widened at the suggestion. “Oh, you’re catching me off-guard, sir. That is quite the request you’re making.”
He kindly smiled at you. “We want you to become a teacher and mentor as soon as you turn forty.” Your stomach churned – it would mean that you’d be given less action and mainly teaching, but your body would eventually not allow that much action anymore, anyway – “And also take up a position in the Council. You’re one of the best Assassins we’ve ever had, and given that there are no descendants to the (L/n) line, we need you to teach the younger ones.”
Biting back a sarcastic remark on both you and your brother being childless, you once again bowed your head. “I’m honoured, sir. Do you allow me to think it over?”
“Of course,” he replied, “But know this. In order for you to be promoted, we need you to work along with Operation Shalom. Give us your all.”
“Always, sir.” you said, “Is there anything else you need to know, sir?”
“For now, you’re dismissed.” he said, “If I require your presence, you’ll know.”
You stood and straightened your back, bidding the Eldest of Council a good day before leaving the office.
 You didn’t feel like seeking out 47, opting for the training hall on your own.
Hearing him talk about not really needing you during his mission had struck a raw nerve –
 “- I don’t need you, (Y/n). Trust me, I’ve got this.”
 You closed your eyes, slamming down onto the punching bag with immense force.
Your mind was there again; Half a decade ago, the evening before your brother headed on the mission that would turn out to be his last. Anger and sorrow tugged at your heartstrings with every blow you punched into the bag, crying out behind the force of your protected fists.
 “Joseph, I don’t mind coming along. An extra pair of blades will only make it easier.”
“You have plenty of other things to do. And it will be good for me to slash up some Templars to take my mind off… You know.”
 Sweat travelled down your brow as you kicked your leg up at liver-height, the chains holding the bag up rattling at the disturbance.
 “Okay. Be careful, Joey.”
“Of course, (Y/n)-ey. I know what I’m doing.”
 Your flushed, sweaty cheeks masked the single tear escaping your eye perfectly.
You felt your wrist jolt in pain, but no matter – it was nothing compared to the pain of grief tugging tearing at your heart.
With a groan, you concluded your onslaught on the training bag, panting heavily, wiping your brow with the towel that hung around your neck.
“Are you alright?”
Sebastian approached with in his hand a bottle of cold water, handing it to you.
Quickly taking off the wrappings around your hands, you smiled and took it, gulping it down greedily.
“I’m fine. Just a bit… Frustrated with some annoying Templars who pushed my buttons this morning.” you lied. It felt bad to not tell him the truth, but secrecy was important.
“Did they provoke you?”
“They eventually regretted trying to do so.”
Seb chuckled a little. “That’s the (Y/n) I know!”
A smirk tugged at your lips and you buried your face into the towel, patting away the sweat.
“So, what’s new today?”
“Ah, nothing really.” Sebastian responded. “Laura cut a wrong wire which caused his internet to be fucked up for the rest of the morning.”
“Typically Laura.” you sighed, rolling your eyes.
“Women, am I right?” Seb jokingly added, earning a lethal glare from you.
“I’m only kidding, women are perfectly capable of—”
“I know, Seb!” you laughed, hitting his chest playfully.
He grabbed your wrist and pushed you back a little.
“Wanna fight, huh?” you taunted with a grin, causing him to hop into a fighting stance, and you were about to lightly jab at his stomach when you heard someone clearing their throat behind you.
“Am I interrupting something?” 47 asked.
“Most certainly not.” you dryly replied, your playful demeanour replaced by severity.
“Ah, Tobias, this is Sebastian, he works in IT. Seb, this is Tobias, the exchange Assassin I told you about.”
They shook each other's hand a bit awkwardly, and Sebastian backed away slightly.
“I’ll eh… I’ll leave you two be.”
“Thank you for the water.” you told him upon his departure, but he rushed away with sudden urgency, seemingly uncomfortable.
“That’s your friend, then?”
You nodded. “He’s a bit of a dork, but I love him like family.”
47 hummed. “I supposed that we would meet up to discuss our mission.”
“Of course,” you said, “But I feel like I should shower first. Meet me upstairs in twenty.”
Agent 47 agreed on that idea to be best.
You withdrew to your bathroom, stripping down, running a quick shower.
After refreshing, you went to see 47, finding him where you had told him to meet you.
“Come with me.” you said, leading him to a more secluded area where you could talk over your files in peace, without Council members scurrying around, which would only cause distraction by typing away at documents and making phone calls.
 “Sit.” you gestured to an empty seat, putting the folder on the large table in the middle of the room, stepping over to the wall to reveal the expanse of a skylight in the ceiling, water floating on top of it, appearing to the outside world as a pond. It allowed light to stream into the room and you sighed. “That’s better.”
You sat down next to 47, unfolding the papers in front of you, laying them out on the surface of the table.
“Karl Wasserman and Georgina Johnson. Newly wed, hopelessly in love, inseparable.” you said, turning to the hitman next of you.
“What can you tell me about how this works? Contracts, I mean. I rarely prepare this thoroughly for missions. Schedules always change, anyway. All I need are my eagle vision and my hidden blades. Never have any trouble.” Well, that was a lie, “Usually.” you added.
“Well, as you may have noticed, the ICA has received a contract from a client. Diana has collected all intel for me and then leaves me to prepare. I pick a few items to bring and let her know what I need. Then, I’m sent out to the target’s location and either slip in or go undercover.”
“A lot of work, then.” you mused. “How do you handle emergencies? Collateral damage and all?”
Agent 47 let out a sound. “Differently than you. The first time I ran into you, you had killed a whole bunch of politicians.”
“They were all Templars. My target happened to be among them.”
“So you don’t kill just your target?”
“It’s collateral damage we’re talking about, 47. Not actual enemies. Those Templars were my enemies.”
“How can you be sure that they were connected to them?”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes, “No, the large Templar cross stitched on their sleeves isn’t a dead giveaway.”
47 was unaffected by your scowl.
“Right. I suppose that’s where we differ. I only kill my target and you kill your target plus all the Templars you encounter.”
“One Templar less is one step closer to protecting the Pieces of Eden. Are you telling me that you’ve never had to kill someone else while on a mission?”
“Of course I did.”
“Well, then. What’s the problem?” you snapped, prickly.
“There is no problem. It will be if you make it one.” he calmly stated.
You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Fine. Let’s just go over this contract and get it over with. It’s not like you need me, anyway.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” he quizzed.
“I overheard you talking to Diana.”
“You were eavesdropping.”
“No—Actually, yeah, but that’s not the point, I’m just…”
You deeply inhaled, not wanting to let your chagrin take the better of you. You were an adult, for fuck’s sake, and the last thing you wanted to be petty to an assassin you tried building a friendship with. Ageing did not cause it to be easier to make friends.
And so you sighed, folding your hands in front of you. “I’m sorry.” you said. “I let my emotions become the better of me, it’s just… I don’t like feeling unnecessary.”
“Why do you think you’re unnecessary?”
“You said you’d rather do this contract alone.  That I’d only weigh you back.”
“Well, don’t you think of it the same way, then? That you’d rather go on your own as well?”
You were overreacting – you knew it, but it had triggered some locked away memories about your brother. It was too soon to pour out your heart, let alone to a man who you barely knew and who didn’t know how emotion worked, and thus, you bit your lip, swallowing it away.
“We both aren’t too happy with those circumstances. Let’s just make the best of it. The sooner it’s done with, the better, right?”
47 agreed with a nod.
You reached for your papers, seeking intel on the first target, but you flinched as your hand hit the side of the table in your movement. You had forgotten about punching the bag the wrong way earlier.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.” you said, holding your wrist. “Just a little accident during my earlier training. It’ll be gone by tomorrow.”
Agent 47 looked at your hand. “Let me see.” he stated, not even a question. He gently took your wrist in his hand, his skin surprisingly warm to the touch. His fingers were soft safe from his trigger finger, which now traced along the purpling hue on your wrist. “That seems like quite the bruise.” he muttered. “Maybe try some ice-”
“I said that it will be fine. Stuff like this happens all the time. I’m sure that one of my toes has been broken before, too, but I’ve never gotten it checked out. It’s still a little crooked, but it barely hurts anymore. This is not even half as bad and will be gone soon.”
“If you say so.” 47 said, releasing your hand, turning back to the table. “Let’s talk about Karl Wasserman. Have you thought of any method you’d prefer to use?”
You soon joined in, discussing your findings, yet your hand laid limply in your lap, utterly relaxed despite the slight pain you felt. Your skin was turning blue and angry, but for some reason, 47’s touch lingered.
Shaking it off, you focused on the matter at hand, deciding upon the way Wasserman should die.
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talesmaniac89 · 5 years ago
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Choices - You Chose Dean
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New to Choices? Start Here
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Summary: Choices is an interactive Supernatural choose your own adventure story where your choices determine the outcome and whether it’s a Dean x Reader or Sam x Reader. Go to the intro to start your story now!
Triggers: None really, some mention of Dean putting himself in harm’s way.
Choice:  [You chose Dean Winchester]
Y/N = Your Name
“Right… So, to make sure we’re ready…” Dean said with a sigh, eyeing the signs as they passed by. The tense tone and hard voice of a soldier enough for you to tell you were quickly closing in on the farmhouse in question. 
“There’s supposed to be five demons in there. We’ll have to take ‘em all out fast. Try to catch them off guard,” Dean spoke over the music, echoing the earlier plan and case details. Though you didn’t mind. It was better to be prepared. Know the case inside out. Especially when you were dealing with those slimy black-eyed bastards. They tended to try and wiggle their way free if you left them even the slightest bit of breathing room.
According to the briefing, the five demons had made themselves a cosy little home in the middle of farm town USA. Happily living their best evil little lives and causing havoc wherever they went. But they weren’t big shots. So, the fight shouldn’t be too hard for three experienced hunters. In, out, find a motel for a snooze if necessary and home in time for lunch tomorrow.
“We’ll have to split up. (Y/N), I think…” Dean started, those infuriatingly striking green eyes glancing up at you through the rear-view mirror and nearly leaving you tongue-tied. Damn him and his… Gorgeous fucking bastard. You couldn’t even think straight. Dean Winchester did things to your mind; filthy, explicit, breathless things. Leaving you mentally winded and unable to string two words together with just a flash of green or a blinding smile.
Yet you somehow still managed to get the protest out before he finished his sentence. The stubbornness of a hunter tackling the wanton daydreamer in you to the floor and wrestling the not-so-innocent devil on your shoulder into submission for long enough to let you find your voice again.
“I’m not sitting this one out Winchester,” You snapped back. Allowing your annoyance to mask the way the hunter always left you winded as you shot down Dean’s attempt to keep you out of harm's way. Like he did every hunt. Disguised as you either taking on the research-, backup- or otherwise removed from action roles.
Though he always failed. You were just as unwilling to see him hurt as he was to see anyone hurt. There was no way in hell you’d be able to sit a fight out and risk the man you loved (oh so very secretly and silently mind you) get hurt because of it. 
“Alright… But you’re staying behind me,” Dean sighed after a moment. Clearly sensing the fight brewing as he backed off quite easily. Plus, even the infuriatingly protective hunter had to agree that 3 against 5 were still better odds than 2 against 5. No matter how much he wanted to go in, guns blazing, alone to keep his little brother and you out of harm’s way.
“Ok, so… We’ll head in the front, while Sammy goes around back?” You clarified; happy he’d dropped the fight for once. And doubly happy since you’d be right there by his side. Able to protect him and the heart you’d silently slipped him without him noticing. 
“Yeah, after, we paint some Devil’s Traps outside. Give ‘em nowhere to run,” Dean’s voice was all business again as he revved the engine, green eyes hard as you sped down the old country roads. Straightening in your own seat, you felt the adrenaline start coursing through you. It was show time, and you were planning on kicking some serious demon ass. 
--- 
“Nice place they’ve got here…” Raising an eyebrow, you kept your eyes on the dilapidated farmhouse through the trees as you stepped out of the car, hidden just out of view from the demon hideout. Unable to stop the disgusted shudder that crawled up your spine as snapshots from some of the goriest movies you knew flashed in front of your eyes.
It looked like something from a classic horror movie. You could nearly hear the Deliverance banjo music in the background as your eyes scanned the rickety porch and rotting wood. It was the kind of place you’d normally scream at the characters on the screen to run away from. Not in fear, but in pure exasperation. After all, nothing good was ever found in old abandoned farmhouses. The demons in the one in front of you just helped prove your point. 
Following Dean to the back of the car, you kept your angel blade by your side as you busied yourself stocking up on holy water and enough iron to make Tony Stark jealous. Taking extra care to ensure everything was safely strapped to your body, and that none of the ‘pointier’ weapons would end up turning on you if you took a tumble. Though you knew you’d most likely just end up sticking to good ol’ reliable and angelic in your hand. The silver white blade thumping against your thigh matched your heartbeat. Adrenaline already coursing pleasurably through your veins from the thought of the upcoming fight.
You needed action, and you needed it fast. The nearly uncomfortable buzz in your body seemed to be reacting violently to the evil in the air, culminating in an itch in your bones that nothing but gunpowder and steel could scratch. So, as you finished building your wearable arsenal of guns, knives and all things pain-inducing, you glanced over at Dean, lips parted to get the show on the road. However, Dean wasn’t moving next to you. 
The gun he’d picked up first still heavy in his palm as he stood frozen, watching you. Worry making the green summer days in his eyes cloud over like a sudden midday storm. The barely hidden pain in them squeezing at your heart as you readied yourself for words you knew would come. 
“You don’t have to…”
“Yes, I do Dean,” You sighed, unwilling to even let him finish his usual attempt at making you sit the hunt out. The same frustrating song and dance as always, yet you couldn’t help the way your heart followed the rhythm of it. The kind, protective streak that made the hunter ask you that same question every time you set out to fight another monster was, after all, part of why you loved him. 
Always so willing to carry every burden on his own shoulders, yet hiding that small, fragile part of himself that showed how everyone’s burdens were taking their toll. Keeping his own pain, his own burdens, hidden until he was alone in the bunker. Or at least, until he thought he was alone. You’d caught him more than once. Tired green eyes squeezed shut as he rested his head in his hands, gasping for breath through the onslaught of guilt and hurt. Strong shoulders shaking with unshed tears and the weight of the blame he placed on them. 
He wanted to keep you safe. Not just you, but the whole god damned world. Still, he was just one man. One soldier in a war that had been raging since the beginning of time itself and he never put down his weapon. Always ready to jump back into the fray. Even as his armour cracked, and his blade dulled. Even as he collapsed under the weight of it all.
The family business; his life since childhood had forced him to hide away his fears as weaknesses. Shaping himself into a shield instead, as he readily threw himself into harm’s way if he believed it could save someone else. Dean Winchester lived like he had a death wish, even though he feared the unknown darkness that was waiting on the other side. Always a little too ready to sacrifice himself for the greater good. 
Never seeing that he was greater than the sum of his sins. That he was good. 
Never willing to believe that the world was a better place with him in it. Though to you it was. Hell… Without him in it, the world would just be a black and white imitation of its formerly vibrant self.
Because you knew the truth that he spent every waking moment trying to hide from the greedy world that just kept demanding more of its one-man army. That behind the soldier, there was a man with a big heart and a need to be loved. A young boy who was denied a childhood. A broken big brother that always blamed himself for pulling Sammy back into the life. A friend willing to sacrifice anything just to see you smile. And, a beautiful soul, who hurt and mourned deeper than anyone else whenever you failed to save someone. 
Dean Winchester was a complex man.
He wasn’t just a hunter, brother, friend or secret keeper of your heart. Dean was a heartrendingly beautiful story with untold depths, a full unexplored universe. With all the nuances and colours that painted a picture of his painful history in scars, heartbreaks and timid smiles that he felt guilty for letting slip. 
A story made up of all the stifled emotions and locked in screams, that easily brought those who knew him to tears. Peppered with small verses of agonisingly fragile hope and the long forgotten innocence of a childhood he never got to have. Hidden and hard to decipher among the many self-deprecating jokes and harsh rejections, yet not lost to you as it was to many others who saw the man as unfeeling and cold. Dean just had to grow up a little faster than most, it didn’t make him a monster, it didn’t make him any less human.
And you didn’t want to add new bruised and battered sentences to that story. You never wanted to be the reason for him to ever get hurt. So, as always, you told him the same thing you’d repeated for an immeasurable number of former hunts. Speaking into the quiet air around you as you grabbed one of the spray cans from the trunk.
“We’re in this together Dean. I’ve got your back, you’ve got mine. Forever,” 
--- 
Straightening back up with a stifled groan you admired your work. 
If all else failed and hunting didn’t work out, maybe you could turn to street art. The Devil’s Trap was expertly painted, if you’d say so yourself. Which you did. Albeit silently and in your own head, as to not alert the demons in the farmhouse to the right of you. 
The trap you’d been assigned was the closest to the Impala, another attempt from Dean at keeping you safe. Yet, it was also the most likely escape route if the demons turned cowards and tried to run for the hills. 
The sliding door just a few steps away to your right was not a planned entry point. So, they’d be most likely to try and use it to scutter away like the scared little black-eyed rats they were if it came down to that. So, your work had to be perfect. Allowing yourself just one more careful look over the symbols, you stepped back. Turning on light feet to carefully, and silently, re-join Dean by the front door. 
The worry in green eyes had once more been replaced by steely determination once you made it back to the front of the farmhouse. Squaring his jaw, he watched you quietly jog up to him before just as soundlessly signalling for Sam to start moving towards the back door with a raised hand and to fingers pointed down the path around the house. His own eyes moving to lock onto the front door, weapon at the ready while he relayed the wordless orders. Missing the small nod from Sam as the younger hunter stayed crouched and quiet, moving before Dean’s hand even had time to straighten out and silently relay his next orders.
Lifting his hand to you, you frowned at the straight palm facing you. He was asking you to wait outside for his signal. To let him walk in through the front door first and act like your shield in case something went wrong. 
Looking at him you gritted your teeth to keep the angry whisper at bay. Gripping your angel blade a little harder, you chose to instead just silently shake your head at him in protest. Catching his eye as he glanced away from the door to make sure you caught the order you tried to silently plead with him. But this time he wasn’t backing down.
His own wordless reply was just a repeat of the single hand gesture that was supposed to be your command and role in the coming battle. Green eyes leaving yours to cut off every silent argument you had as he kept his shoulders tense and jaw squared. 
Your stubborn hunter wasn’t going to let you argue this time as he slowly but surely started moving forward, towards the door. Leaving you standing in the gravel, fuming silently.
Make your choice below to move the story along:
What do you do?
[Follow him in] or [Wait outside]
Confused or New to Choices? Start Here Choices is an interactive Supernatural choose your own adventure story where you pick your Winchester brother and go on a hunt for one of 8 different endings in total. Four for Sam and four for Dean (2 happy and 2 bad endings per brother). Go to the intro to start your story!
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pasiveagressive · 5 years ago
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Opening Night // Tom Holland
Y/N is an artist who needs a date, best friend Tom is happy to step in.
Best friends to Lovers
Warnings: Slight implication of smut, language? maybe?
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Y/N’s  Saturday was a mix of good and bad. It had started shitty, she woke up and her roommate/ brother's latest conquest was still in the apartment. She had walked into the kitchen half asleep and started a pot of coffee when she looked up. Harrison was trying to get the girl out the door and she was trying to tell him that she wanted to go another round. Y/N almost puked on the spot. 
“Marissa you guys go through this at least once a week.” Y/N said making her presence known. “He’ll call you tomorrow or the next day when he’s horny again.” she had said all of this while picking up the rest of the sluts stuff with her finger tips. “Bye Marissa hope to see you never.” She shoved the girl out the door, then turned to glare at her brother who just grinned at her.
“Morning sis.” He kissed her head. She rolled her eyes at him and went back to her coffee pot where she poured herself an overflowing mug of black gold. Once she had woken up a bit more she addressed her brother.
“You’re going to be my date tonight to the gallery opening right?” his eyes went wide and he tried to cover it up but she was faster. “You didn’t forget that I have a gallery opening tonight did you?”
“Um, maybe?” he scratches the back of his head. 
“Harrison!” she yells “You were supposed to intimidate that asshole Jonathan so he would stop bugging me.” The end almost sounds like a whine and she is totally fine with that if it gets him to cancel his plans and come with her.
“Y/N, I am so sorry but I can’t cancel. I have an audition for a new movie.” her body sagged at this. Y/N knew that Haz needed to go to this audition. There was a knock on the door at that moment. Haz went to open it while Y/N pouted. She had perked up when she heard the familiar voice belonging to a curly haired brunette. As Haz brought Tom into the room Y/N basically tackled him. She, Harrison and Tom had grown up together and she and Tom were just as close as Haz and Tom were, if not closer. Tom caught her and pulled her into a tight hug that made her heart flutter. There was that too. She might have the tiniest crush on her best friend.
“I didn’t know you were going to be in town anytime soon.” She said as they pulled away from each other.  
“Neither did I to be honest.” Tom replied “I have a couple interviews I need to go to later this week but other than that I am all yours.” He smiled at her and hi fived Harrison. That’s when she saw Haz’s eyes light up.
“Hey man you got anything going tonight?” he asked. Tom shook his head 
“No mate why?”
“Y/N has this thing I was supposed to go to with her but I made plans. You can go instead!” Y/N tried to signal to her brother that this is a very bad idea but his eyes were only on Tom. The Holland didn’t take more than a minute to consider it before he agreed.
“What time do we have to leave?”
That was how she ended up at her gallery opening with her long time crush and best friend. So yeah not the greatest day so far. The gallery was doing great; she had several interested buyers, her personal life was sucking however. Tom had to run to the bathroom and it looks like he got caught by the bimbo who works the desk, why she is even here Y/N has no idea. 
“Hello Y/N.” and there he was the man she was dreading seeing all night. A mutual friend had tried setting her and Jonathan Up a few years ago and it was terrible. She tries to avoid him the best she can but his family were big buyers in the industry and so he is always at openings. 
“Hello Jonathan” She says, trying to plaster a fake smile on her face as best as possible. 
“Please call me John,” he very obviously looks her up and down, making her want to roll her eyes, “How about you tell me about this piece.” Oh thank god, she thinks. Art is something she can talk about for ages no matter who she's talking to.
“Um sure, so it’s obviously muted but,” she trails off as she feels a hand on her back. Y/N  moves away from Jonathan and continues “ as I was saying, I wanted it to come across as alive.” as she’s talking Jonathan moves closer to her again. Just as she is about to flip out on him she is saved in a very unexpected way
“Hey babe.” a kiss is dropped on her temple. She knows who it is and she also knows that he is just barely able to reach that high due to her heels. “Who’s this?” she is a little out of it from the fact that Tom just called her babe like it was the most normal thing but luckily enough Jonathan loves to overstep and introduces himself. 
“Jonathan Thomas and you are?”
“Oh, right of course, so sorry Tom Holland Y/N’s boyfriend.” The first thing that goes through her mind is that he uses his full name, a name that anyone who knows anything about pop culture will know. The second thing, is the thing that makes her spit out the champagne that she was taking a drink of, all over Jonathan.
“Oh my gosh I am so sorry Jonathan!” He looks down at his definitely ruined tie.
“It’s fine Y/N,” she slightly winces at the way he says her name “I was thinking of heading out anyway. I will contact you about a few of the pieces I am interested in.” with that he walks toward the door and she turns to Tom
“What the hell was that? I asked you to get him to back off not give me a heart attack!” he just smiles at her
“I got him to leave you alone, isn’t that what you wanted? Plus it could have gone way worse.” She just stares at him shaking her head
“In what way could it have gone worse? Tom let me tell you, there are at least seventeen ways this could have gone better, I am counting them now you ass.”
“Well darling” he grins into the endearing nickname, “that bimbo that  was flirting with me earlier could have come over and caused a scene.” Tom says while looking over Y/N’s head
“Why is that even a scenario?” she is about to go on a full scale rant on him  then sees the panic on his face “Oh Stephanie is on her way over here right now isn’t she?” he shakes his head 
“Just follow along okay?” He says and before she has a chance to respond he is leaning in and kissing her. It takes her by complete surprise, but when he realizes her lips aren’t moving he pulls back just enough to whisper against them. “What am I not a good enough kisser for you love?” That’s enough for her to grab his neck and pull him back on to her mouth. She is feeling  like nothing could ever take her down from this high she’s on when Tom pulls away, fully this time. He turns his body to reveal a very pissed off Stephanie. 
“You know you could have just told me you were seeing someone instead of leading me on earlier.” she then smacks him across the face and walks away. Y/N gasps at the nail marks her claws leave on his face. 
“Oh my gosh are you okay?” she grabs his face. He manages a smile
“Kiss me better?” she blushes and kisses his cheek. He grabs her hand and leads her out of the building “Now come on Angel you know that’s not what I meant.” He captures her lips with his again and she almost lets herself be pulled into bliss. However she manages to get away and speak
“Tom we need to go clean up your face.” He nods his head and lets her lead the way home.
Once they get to the apartment Y/N leads Tom to the bathroom. She bends over to look for her first aid kit and when she returns to the upright position finds Tom shamelessly staring at her ass. 
“Um hello there? Do you want to stop looking at my butt?” She snaps her fingers in front of his face. This seems to shake him out of whatever trance he was in and put his signature pantydropping smirk on.
“Not particularly Angel. Why? Do you want me to stop?” she feels the telltale sign of herself blushing, aka her face feels like a fire, but she tries to play it cool and rolls her eyes at him. 
She hoists herself on to the kitchen counter with the first aid kit open beside her. Tom is just standing in the doorway with the dried blood streaked down his face. Once she is up on the ledge however he seems to get the idea, and walks to stand between her legs. They had both changed out of their nice clothes and all he has on are a pair of black joggers. She tries very hard not to get distracted by his sculpted body, and you think it would be fairly easy because of how much time the man spent shirtless, but it is very hard. She cleans the cuts and soon realizes they aren’t nearly as bad as she once thought they were. She wasn’t sure where all the blood had come from, the lines on Tom's face were miniscule. They didn’t say one word as she was wiping his cheek down, they didn’t need to. She and Tom always had this weird kind of connection, they could literally just sit in a room together with nothing else to do and just be in each other's company. No talking was needed, they knew everything they needed to about each other, and maybe even some things they didn’t need to. She almost laughed at the thought. 
After she had finished, Tom had simply turned around in her legs and she put her arms around him. They sat like that for a few hours just talking about stupid stuff ( just because they could sit in silence didn’t mean they always wanted to), until Haz came home. He didn’t even give the position they were in a second glance because they were always like this, but he did disturb the peace that was resting over them so Y/N decided to call it a night. 
“Night Haz.” she kissed him on the cheek “Night Tom.” and him too. She wanted to kiss Tom for real of course, but she knew that it wasn’t a shared feeling. She sighs walking into her room trying to remember every detail of the way his lips felt against hers because she knows that tonight was just a one off thing. Tom didn’t like being tied down, and while she didn’t quite think that he saw her as a little sister anymore, she was definitely friendzoned. 
Tom  was nervous. He was standing outside his best friend's house so he shouldn’t be nervous right? Wrong! His best friend just so happens to be this beautiful, spitfire who he has been in love with since he was 15. He is now 25 and has been keeping it a secret from her and her brother , aka Tom’s other best friend, for almost ten years now and he doesn’t know how much longer he can keep it up. He knocks on the door. Harrison answers so he has another minute to compose himself. 
“Tom mate!”
“Hey Haz.” he smiles and hugs the blonde man who then pulls back motions for Tom to follow “How long you staying man?” Tom starts to answer but is cut off by a hug from his girl. He melts into the embrace and they must have been hugging for a bit too long because Haz cleared his throat. She takes a step back
“I didn’t know you were going to be in town anytime soon.” 
“Neither did I to be honest.” He replies, “I have a couple interviews I need to go to later this week but other than that I am all yours.” He smiled at her thinking about all the time they would get to spend together. She runs and paints for a gallery so her hours are loose and anytime he’s in town she basically just blows off work. 
“Hey man you got anything going tonight?” Harrison asks a little out of the blue. Tom thinks for a second 
“No mate why?”
“Y/N has this thing I was supposed to go to with her but I made plans. You can go instead!” Tom doesn’t need very much time to think it over, seeing all of Y/N’s hard work, and her in a dress. It was a no brainer, so he turns to Y/N
“What time do we have to leave?”
Y/N had given him the run down of why she needed someone to come with her on the way over. Apparently some creep was giving her a hard time and continuously is asking her out. Sometime in the middle of the night Tom had to run to the bathroom and on his way back this woman stopped him. 
“Hey hot stuff, who are you here tonight?” She bats her eyes in what Tom supposes is her attempt to be appealing but his eyes are very quickly drawn to Y/N looking mildly uncomfortable with another man other there. So Tom simply tells this girl that he needs to go and makes his way over to Y/N.
“ as I was saying, I wanted it to come across as alive.” Gosh he could listen to her talk art all day. He pulls out of his trance and swoops in to save the day
“Hey babe.” a kiss is dropped on her temple. “Who’s this?” she seems a little confused but the douchebag introduces himself
“Jonathan Thomas and you are?” Tom smirks everyone who is anyone knows who he is anymore so when he says 
``Oh, right of course, so sorry Tom Holland Y/N’s boyfriend.” Jonathan’s eyes go wide. Yes he plays Spider-Man  but that doesn’t mean the asshole needs to stare, so Tom rolls his eyes at the same time he hears,
“Oh my gosh I am so sorry Jonathan!” and he has to try very hard not to laugh. Y/N had somehow gotten her drink all over him.
“It’s fine Y/N,” she slightly winces at the way he says her name,“I was thinking of heading out anyway. I will contact you about a few of the pieces I am interested in.” with that he walks toward the door and she turns to Tom
“What the hell was that? I asked you to get him to back off not give me a heart attack!” he just smiles at her
“I got him to leave you alone, isn’t that what you wanted? Plus it could have gone way worse.” She just stares at him shaking her head
“In what way could it have gone worse? Tom let me tell you, there are at least seventeen ways this could have gone better, I am counting them now you ass.”
He honestly wasn’t expecting the girl to slap him, let alone slap him so hard he was bleeding. He couldn’t can’t even feel it however because he just kissed Y/N, twice. And it seemed like she liked it. God he sounds like such a girl, he scowls to himself. She leads him to the bathroom and bends over. He can’t help it but her butt looks phenomenal. Before he knows it she is snapping in his face 
“Um hello there? Do you want to stop looking at my butt?”  he smirks
“Not particularly Angel. Why? Do you want me to stop?” she blushed hard and rolled her eyes at him. 
When Haz came home he had never wanted to punch someone so much in his life.Y/N kissed his cheek and said goodnight heading to her room and there was nothing more he wanted to do then follow her in and kiss her senseless. He watched the clock hit one then two and finally when it hit three and he had yet to fall asleep he walked to her room. Didn’t bother knocking, just walked in and she sat up as the door opened. 
“Tom?” 
“Hey Angel, I couldn’t sleep.” she shuffled over and pulled back her covers
“Me either.” he crawled in with her and they were lying face to face. Her breath was hitting his lips and killing him. So he finally did it. He kissed her for the third time that night. And then they did it a fourth and a fifth and a sixth. 
“Y/N I have to tell you something.” he says after about a half-hour 
“Okay me too but you can go first.” He looked into her eyes and very seriously says
“Y/N I am in love with you.” she gasps and then kisses him,  
“Tom I have been in love with you for years.” he smiles and pulls her close to himself. 
“So how are we going to tell Haz that we are dating?” 
“I don’t remember ever being asked Mr. Holland.” she giggles. He rolls his eyes and squeezes her sides so she lets out a squeal 
“Y/N Y/M/N Osterfeild, will you be my girlfriend?” she stops laughing
“Tom what are we going to do when you leave?” He smiles at her
“We will work it out, you will always be my home so I will always come back to you.” Now she is smiling back at him
When they tell Harrison in the morning he says 
“About time.” and continues drinking his coffee
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animebw · 4 years ago
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Binge-Watching: Brand New Animal, Episodes 7-9
In which things take a turn for the disappointing, I lament the loss of what made this show work in the first place, and Nazuna just doesn’t work.
Divine Mess
Well, it’s official: I don’t like Nazuna. Or to be more precise, I don’t like what her presence has done to Brand New Animal. Ever since the show’s made Nazuna and the church the focus of its ongoing plot, it’s been getting less and less interesting by the episode. We’re spending less time exploring the central metaphors and more time building up a weaksauce conspiracy plot that doesn’t even really feel like part of the same show. The origin of Michiru and Nazuna’s beastman disease turns out to be experimental waste materials that somehow got mixed up with the hospital blood bags after their accident, and now the pharmaceudical head guy Alan is planning to recreate that mixture and, most likely, sell it as some kind of supersoldier serum to the military. All well and good, but there’s basically no intrigue to this plot. BNA’s appeal was in how it explored issues of identity, oppression and society, using its furry setting as a catch-all metaphor for whatever topic the writers wanted to tackle. None of that is present here. It’s just a very obvious villain scheme that plays out exactly as you expect it to with no real tension or deeper meaning. There’s nothing personal, nothing biting, nothing that feels like the writers really have something to say by going in this direction. And all the stuff that’s actually interesting- using migratory birds as an allegory for nomadic peoples struggling to adjust to modern immigration standards like borders and visas, Mayor Rose being a survivor of the Beastman Holocaust(tm) who got into science as a way of fighting back against the cruelties done to her people- are pushed to the sidelines where they can only do so much good.
In BNA’s defense, I think it’s trying to say something profound with the imagery of the Silver Wolf. This icon represents the hopes and dreams of all beastmen, shepherding them through dark times and guiding them to brighter pastures. Nazuna’s church might be a farce, but it’s undoubtedly giving the beastmen who follow it a sense of community and security they couldn’t get elsewhere. Plus, even if it’s not too much of a surprise when Shirou turns out to be the actual Silver Wolf- it is his name, after all- seeing him cut loose, howerer briefly, to take down a rampaging rhino monster was really fun. As is his backstory, which reveals he’s a thousand-year-old member of a long-dead tribe who gained immortality from the blood of his slaughtered kinsmen and became a protector of beastmen through the ages once revenge proved hollow. The flashback’s art style is particularly cool; it feels reminiscent of ancient cultures’ painting and pottery, like it’s an ancient Roman mural come to life. But I feel like I’m grasping at straws trying to figure out why the Silver Wolf matters so much to BNA’s story. Why put spend all this time building up complex commentary on race and identity and discrimination and then drop everything for a main plot about organized religion? Sure, religion’s an important part of any cultural narrative, but this doesn’t feel like it’s building off the themes and ideas BNA already established. It just feels like it’s working with a generic story template that could slot into any random show. Where it used to feel so inspired and unique, now it’s staring to feel tired, stale, and trite. And if I’m describing a Trigger show, of all things, as feeling stale, then you know something has gone terribly wrong.
In Search of a Friend
But there’s a bigger problem here, a problem that’s far more insurmountable than the plot losing its way. And that problem is Nazuna herself. Nazuna is the core of Michiru’s arc, the character who inspires the most change and introspection from the protagonist and defines her emotional journey... and I just don’t care about her. At all. Like I mentioned last post, BNA makes the same mistake with Nazuna that The Promised Neverland made with Norman in season 2. It air-drops a character into the plot who’s changed drastically from who they used to be, it only gives us the basest exposition for why they’ve changed, and then it doesn’t give us any tools to connect with that change on an emotional level. And at least with Norman, we actually knew him before his transformation into a genocide enthusiast, so we had some measuring stick to gague his evolution with. But I have no idea what Nazuna was like before she became a beastman and got inducted into this cult. Yeah, we get the surface-level understanding that Nazuna’s dream was to be an idol and acting as a religious leader is close enough for her to be okay with that, but who was Nazuna? Was she friendly? Distant? Ambitious? A slacker? Why was the time she and Michiru were friends so important to both of them? Why should we care that she’s no longer the Nazuna she used to be if we never even knew who that Nazuna was in the first place? You can’t mourn the loss of a person you’ve only met in disconnected, bite-sized flashbacks. But with Nazuna, that’s all we’re given.
The frustrating is, there are brief moments where it does kind of work. That one brief sequence of Nazuna and Michiru staring at each other’s reflections in the car windows, listening to the ED song they both loved back when they were human, has more character and emotional resonance than the entirety of their other interactions. In those maybe twenty seconds, you can feel what this relationship is supposed to be, how much it’s supposed to matter. But the song that means so much to Michiru and Nazuna just doesn’t carry that same weight to us. We haven’t listened to it with them. We haven’t seen them enjoying it beyond a three-second flash of memory. We have no context for all the feelings of love and friendship and trust that song represents to them. All we can do is take their word that it matters, without ever having the chance to feel it for ourselves. And absent that emotional connection, all we’re left with is yet more scenes of Nazuna condescending to Michiru and making you wonder what Michiru even sees in her in the first place. BNA doesn’t give you a chance to meet the Nazuna in Michiru’s past; it only lets you see the Nazuna of the present. And that Nazuna just isn’t a Nazuna worth caring about absent the context of what she left behind to reach this point. Akko and Diana, these two are not.
Odds and Ends
-”Why do you only see the negative side of things?” She’s got a point.
-”The bomb’s fake.” I... okay, I guess that’s fair. Aiming to scare, not harm.
-This episode feels kind of unfocused. Why was there a convenient second assassin to push the church’s favorability forward? What was the point of the first bird guy?
-Okay, the animation on this super-rhino is awesome. He feels so heavy and imposing.
-Fucking hell, this got nightmarish fast. He’s not even a rhino anymore he’s a One Punch Man baddie.
-”I must have decided that were were different, since he was a beastman and I was human.” Oooof. Internalized hatred kicking in hard there.
-”You should eat.” Aaaaaw, he’s softening!
-”Do you like the Silver Wolf?” “Yes, I do.” Well, hello, subtext that will inevitably never blossom into actual text because the writers are cowards.
-Hey, kudos for not doing a “My clothes don’t turn invisible so I have to strip” gag. I appreciate that.
-See, it would’ve taken literally a half-second for Nazuna to say “Michiru, I’m okay” and clear up the misunderstanding before it came to blows. Unnecessary drama is unnecessary.
-Oh, huh, kudos to Alan for coming clean. He may be a villain, but he’s doing an excellent job being respectable about it.
-”Their mental entropy is reduced by solely focusing on god.” “Isn’t that just stress?” Lol, Alan’s giving this roundabout explanation and Michiru just cuts through the bullshit. Good for her.
-”Because you’re creepy.” Eeeeey, she listened!
Man, I hope the finale can turn thing around. See you next time for the end of Brand New Animal!
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haloud · 4 years ago
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2020 Creator Wrap
Rules:  it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (or so) favourite works you  created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below  to reflect on the amazing things you brought to the world in 2020. tag  as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can  spread the love and link each other to awesome works!
tagged by @lambourngb <3
this has been an interesting year for me, creatively. lots of highs and lows. unlike last year, I didn’t participate in NaNoWriMo, but also unlike last year, I participated in a Big Bang for the first time. overall, I feel like I’ve grown a lot as a writer this year.
but when it comes to reflecting on what I’ve written this year...I don’t know. It’s hard to feel fully connected to a lot of it. Part of that is pandemic brain, part of it is me getting used to the different beast that is co-writing, part of it is imposter syndrome...it’s a many-headed beast. I have complicated feelings on all of it. Maybe it’s part of the growth process; maybe the New Year just has me feeling maudlin. But all that being said, here are my top 5 works I wrote this year.
1. To Raise A Child (series): This is cheating a little, picking a series, but I can’t just pick one fic in this series. Writing with @maeglinthebold has been such an adventure and a wonderful ray of light in this gloomy year. This series asks the adults of Roswell to step up--except Arturo, who we all know is already perfect--and follows our young heroes as they grow. It’s the longest thing I’ve ever completed, and while I obviously can’t take full credit, I’m so, so proud of everything about this story. As is evident by my ao3 page, I’ve always been a more succinct writer, and I’ve struggled with feelings of inadequacy as I never seem able to turn out the long, gorgeous epics other creators I admire can. No matter how satisfied I am with my own skills, I can’t help but feel like my work is valued less because of its length. So while I am, largely, the same writer I was before, I feel a sense of security and satisfaction having completed something like this, even knowing I never could have done it alone. Also the ending of the series is perfect, just saying. Endings are hard, but this one was simple and elegant. <3
2. we were hand to glove to cuff: holy shit can you believe this fic was written this year lmao. but it was, according to ao3! I love this fic, truly. I loved digging into Alex’s headspace here, and while I look back on it with a slightly frustrated nostalgia now that canon Alex has gone in such a vastly different direction than the Alex I thought I knew after season 1...this Alex is still valid, and I love him, haha. This fic was also notable for how clear it was in my mind even before I started writing it--a rarity for me, as I usually take a more freeform approach to writing, but this one arrived fully formed and was a joy to write on every level.
3. looking for yourself out there: (rated E). ah, the peak of self indulgence, my Michael/OC fic, soon to be series. Well, I call it self indulgent, and believe me, it is, but in the end it is going to be about the journey of Michael and Alex coming back together, about both of their relationships post-season 2. but for now...this fic is just about Michael meeting a nice guy who likes him and maybe a little bit starting to realize that it’s okay to just be liked by a nice guy and like a nice guy back for a little while, without it being this star-crossed world-ending epic soul-rending thing, yknow? It was definitely fun to write, though I struggled with it. In the end, I think I really nailed Michael’s POV here as well.
4. where the love light gleams: I hesitated a bit before putting this on the list--about putting three things published back to back to back on the list, really--but in the end, i have to go with my gut. This fic was one of my most significant forays into modeling what malex’s relationship might have looked like over the lost decade, and even if it’s Christmas themed, I’m very satisfied with how I nailed the atmosphere of it all, something I struggled with a lot. Plus, the ending is super fluffy, just the kind of thing I need to imagine for malex at the end of the day <3
5. an overture bold and beyond: I mean, it’s gotta be this one, right? My Big Bang, a fix-it fic for the 2x10 bunker scene but really for the final arc of season 2 altogether, as it pertains to the emotions of Michael and Alex. When the event was first announced, I had ambitious plans for the Big Bang, much more involved, plot-heavy, lengthy stories I wanted to tackle. But as the pandemic hit, and as season 2 progressed, I changed direction several times. And I’m glad I did. I’m so, so satisfied with this story. Writing it was a catharsis I needed to move past some of the feelings I was nursing about season 2. Well, not entirely--I’m still prone to saltiness about these things--but it doesn’t hurt quite as much. I don’t feel the need to go into detail yet again about my deep dislike of the 2x10 bunker scene or how the fallout was (or rather wasn’t) handled; I’ll just say that I was left honestly struggling to even continue shipping malex or, really, with my investment in the show as a whole, I was so hurt by the direction certain character arcs were taking and the continued missteps/carelessness (in my opinion) with emotional arcs in canon. This fic was a massive reconstruction project.
Which, I mean, obviously, fic and actual real life network television are vastly different beasts. So I’m not saying by any means that I think my fic should be substituted for the actual real life 2x13. But I do think I competently and compellingly take advantage of and resolve some massive gaping holes the show left behind, and that’s a really fulfilling feeling to have about one’s own writing.
--
I feel like I could talk forever about this, about season 2 in general (so so many words), and about how I’ve felt writing and trying to write rnm in this year and in this environment (canon and fandom environment), but I’ll leave it there, and with an enormous thank you to everyone who has supported me, every friend I’ve flopped onto for help, every beta reader, every person who’s listened to me whine or gotten just as excited as me over some idea, every commentor, every kudoser, and every silent reader who I’ve touched. Thank you all so much <3
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theabominableblogger · 4 years ago
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My Reaction to “Avengers Endgame”
Yes- I still haven’t seen this movie.  Yes I know exactly what happens in this movie.  I mainly avoided it for a while due to overhype but with some convincing from my brother, Imma sit my butt down and try to watch this.
Pressing... play!
Right off the bat, I feel like I should warn you guys and say that I have... my opinions... about stuff.  Plus I’m a dumbass about Marvel so just bear with me.
I like that Disney Plus has to warn us about product placement
Clint!
Are we gonna see little Nathaniel running around- THERE he is!
We are gonna see Clint’s entire family get freaking obliterated
Is all the rumbling from the sky or are those airplanes freaking crashing to Earth in the distance?
What if they pulled a reverse WandaVision and showed the people getting snapped out of existence in a future film or show?  That would be freaking terrifying.
They’re [Tony and Nebula] playing paper football...
I wanna see more of THEIR interactions aboard the Milano.  The shots of them just repairing the ship are great too.
“I’m fine.  Totally fine.”  Everyone ever.
I also like you see the visual difference between Tony and Nebula.  While he’s growing gaunt and haggard from loss of oxygen, you can still see that Nebula looks absolutely fine because she’s like 75% android
So between 1995 and now, what the heck has Carol been up to?
“Thanos wiped out... 50% of all living creatures.”  So like entire ecosystems are just demolished.
*anthropology major part of my brain scrambling for answers*
“We lost.  And you [Steve] weren’t there.”  HE WAS IN WAKANDA!
Wait so the arc reactor ISN’T in Tony’s chest anymore?
“Where the hell have you [Carol] been all this time?”  Good question!
*silently bops to opening theme*
For some reason, I just really want the ship radio to randomly turn on so you just see everyone sitting awkwardly as “Piano Man” plays over the speakers
*Thanos slowly cooks his food*  Faster, all together now!  COOKING CAN BE FUN!
“I [Thanos] used the stones to destroy the stones.”  ...what?
“I am...[Thanos] inevitable.”  *starts humming “Inevitable” from TGWDLM*
“I [Thor] went for the head.”  YES YOU DID
[FIVE YEARS LATER] All righty so we’re doing this
*gasps*  Is... Steve running the therapy sit downs like Sam did in “The Winter Soldier”?  That’s awesome.  I really like this tidbit.
I’m also really liking Alan Silvestri’s score for this so far
I’m really trying not to nitpick but I feel like it would take more than 5 years for greenery to just completely overtake a suburban neighborhood
Also wow pre COVID life looks great you guys
“There’s a part of me that doesn’t even wanna find him.”  Are they talking about... Clint?  Is Clint just going the full vigilante route?
DOES HE KILL PEOPLE?!?
I really like Steve and Natasha’s friendship in these movies but for some reason I don’t feel like we get enough of Natasha for me to get behind her on an emotional standpoint
Are they gonna use the quantum realm to jumpstart the multiverse for Phase 4?
Also speaking of multiverse, I honestly really don’t want Spiderman:  No Way Home or Wandavision to get too cluttered by that
I like Tony’s lake house.  And he got a whole vegetable garden going too.  Kudos!
The little kid who plays Morgan Stark is adorable
“Not if we strictly follow the rules of time travel.”  Which we obviously won’t.
“We’re gonna need a really big brain.”  So where the [expletive] is Banner?
“Stranger danger.”  *snorts*
“Dab!”  *rolls eyes*
So is the whole Professor Hulk thing permanent?  I know he’s gonna be in the She-Hulk show but I’m wondering how they’re gonna tackle that.  And they’re gonna have Tim Roth too!
*smiles when Tony takes Morgan to bed*
Steve Rogers here [when they do the first time travel tests] is a Look ™
Maybe don’t let the GIANT GREEN MAN keep pressing a bunch of tiny tiny important buttons on a dashboard
*laughs at Steve shaking his head in disbelief when they finally bring Scott back*
*Tony’s car races toward the Avengers base*  NYOOOMMMM
*Tony rolls down his window*  It’s Britney, bitch
“And maybe not die trying.”  And you definitely will.
This whole bit where Scott keeps losing his dorito only to get another one from Bruce feels like a Doritos commercial.
*jams out to "Supersonic Rocket Ship by The Kinks*
Did they just keep reducing the green pigment for Hulk or what?
*sighs when they reveal Fat!Thor*
MIEK’S ALIVE!
Please tell me Noobmaster69 is Kid Loki, whom we meet in the Loki series
“Don’t... say that name.”  “Yeah we actually don’t say that name here.”  I like this.  I like that Thor has so much resentment for killing Thanos at the wrong time and that he felt that could have done better cause he’s A GOD.  So the fact that THANOS was on equal level and BEAT HIM-
Hawkeye’s killing people
This sword fight’s great [between the Yakuza person and Clint]
WHY DIDN’T THEY BUILD ON THIS [Clint and Natasha’s connection] ???
*laughs when Rhodey suggests killing baby Thanos*
These shots of Clint going through the Quantum Realm looks like something straight out of Andy Park’s concept art and that’s awesome
“Well I [Scott] haven’t [encountered an Infinity Stone] but I don’t even know what the hell you’re all talking about.”  *snorts*
“The Aether, firstly, is not a stone.”  Thank you!
The little glance Nebula gives after Thor mentions the Dark Elves just make me think that somewhere down the road, she has either A) encountered them or B) has encountered other Asgardians besides Thor
“Guys if you pick the right year, there are three stones in New York.”  “Shut the front door.”  *laughs*
Also underrated trio:  Steve, Natasha, and Bruce.  Gimme more.
Wait a minute, in 2012, Doctor Strange wasn’t active yet.  So are they gonna go see- OOOOOOOHHHHHH
[NEW YORK 2012] Oh here we go
*cracks up when Bruce very half-assedly smashes stuff on the street*
“I’m looking for Doctor Strange.”  “You’re about five years too early.”  Wait a minute.
HOW DOES SHE [the Ancient One] KNOW?!?
*giggles at Thor and Rocket sneaking in the background with a bored Loki in focus*
“That’s my [Thor’s] mother.  She dies today.”  I love this scene already.
Also WHY IS THOR- or the Thor films in general- have like the most well written characters in the whole canon?
It’s those movies, Guardians 2, The Winter Soldier, Civil War, aaand.... I can’t think of any more of them. 
Oh yeah and WANDAVISION cause THAT HIT ME LIKE A TRUCK-
Rocket just said he thinks of the Guardians as his family I’m gonna die...
What about their [Natasha and Rhodey’s] friendship?!?  I want more of that!
“Ronan’s obsession... clouds his judgment.”  ...HUH
*Thanos uses his sword to lift up Nebula’s chin*  Aw heck no
“As far as I’m concerned, that’s America’s ass.”  *has to take a second before nodding in agreement*
Wait is that Jasper Stillwell?
“Flick me.”  That bit alone could be taken out of context
“We’re in route to Doctor List.”  Who’s Doctor List?  Is that a code name?
“Hail Hydra.”  THE BASTARDS WENT AND DID IT
Please tell me this hand off scene is gonna be the opening for the Loki show.  Please tell me this is gonna happen.
*Loki takes the Tesseract again*  AND HE’S GOOONNNEE!!
LET’S GET TO FREAKING JUNE ALREADY!
*ends up quoting “Yeah, I know, I know” along with Steve*
I’m really glad Tilda Swinton actually came back for this cameo
*keeps slapping my laptop screen when people keep saying Doctor Strange made a mistake when it was an explicit point in Infinity War where he encountered 14 million other AUs to find the best result*
Are you telling me that this whole plan could derail because Nebula accidentally hacked into her own WiFI network?  Are you seriously doing this?
*Thanos and Ebony Maw scan Nebula’s duplicate memory bank and track her down*  Are you freaking kidding me?
...I have 96 minutes left?!?
“The future hasn’t been kind to you [Thor], has it?”  Frigga is underrated
So for these shots with Jane, are they just reusing different shots from Thor 2 or just footage from deleted scenes?
Can we talk about how Frigga is absolutely the best parent Thor has?  Meanwhile her husband ODIN is like “oh yeah by the way you have a secret sister totes magotes i’ll die now byeeee”
*sings along with “Come and Get Your Love” by Redbone*
*laughs when we cut to Quill just very badly singing along to his iPod in the distance*
I want a bonus short with just Rhodey and Nebula doing their thing
*Nebula gets her memory taken over by 2014 Thanos*  Nooooooo...
Are the glasses that Tony wears here part of EDITH from “Far From Home” or are they like a prototype?
Also I haven’t seen “Far From Home” yet because Sony hates me
Doctor Zola?!?
*jams out to the music playing when we see Hank Pym’s lab*
“A little girl would be nice.  Less of a chance that she’ll end up exactly like me [Howard Stark].”  *gasps softly*
Oh my God, he’s [Steve] in Peggy’s office
Alan Silvestri is really killing it with this score
JARVIS!!
Wait and that’s the guy from “Agent Carter”!
Ohhh that shot’s [of Thanos’s ship coming out of the clouds] awesome...
*2014 Nebula hands Thanos the Pym particles*  Oh are you kidding me...
The CGI for Red Skull is also awesome
*gasps when Natasha reveals that she never knew her dad’s name when Red Skull told it to her*
*is super bummed out when Natasha sacrifices herself*
Kevin Feige really went and said “so Phases 3 and 4 are gonna make everybody cry” and the writers went “YES”
Wait doesn’t Cap go and return the stones at the end of the movie?  How’s he gonna handle meeting Red Skull on Vormir then?
“It’s like... I [Bruce] was made for this.”  Please someone get Mark Ruffalo his own Hulk movie before he combusts from giving out more spoilers
So Thanos used the Pym particles to time travel then.  Honestly that’s kinda genius
I just noticed that Scott shrank himself right as the explosion hit the windows
I really want someone to just drop one F-bomb somewhere in the MCU and I really hope it’s Clint because he would 100% say it
*starts singing “Hollaback Girl” when Thanos arrives*
Here’s my question;  how did Thanos acquire Nebula then?  With Gamora, it was with the genocide of her people.
“We [Gamora to Nebula] can stop him.”  LET’S GO!
[Thor uses his storm powers to summon both Stormbreaker and Mjolnir] *softly* Ohhhhh that’s badass...
Now I’m just imagining the cast just in the green screen room just hitting Josh Brolin with a bunch of foam weapons and making all the sound effects while poor Josh is just struggling under the weight of the Thanos reference head on his mocap suit
Who does the voice for FRIDAY?
AN:  Irish actress named Kerry Condon
*Steve deems himself worth to wield Mjolnir*  OKKAAYY OKAAYY
Love how Thanos is like “yes, I’m gonna stab you with an AXE”
“In all my years of conquest...”  Steve you suuuucckkk...
Are we getting the Chitauri again?
“On your left.”  *laughs incredulously*  O-ohhh my God...
*Everyone starts coming out of the portals*  Oh my God I’m getting chills
I would have lost my mind in the theater
I HAVE ACTUAL GOOSEBUMPS RUNNING ALL OVER ME.  This is how good this is
WAIT ARE THOSE THE RAVAGER SHIPS ABOVE THEM?!?
“Avengers... assemble.”  Oh my God this is amazing!
M’BAKU!
Also “Endgame” really just said “We are KILLING FOOLS TODAY”
How are they gonna tackle Peter and Gamora’s relationship in Guardians 3?
[Horn plays La Cucaracha] LET’S GO
God I’m gonna turn feral
*has to pause to scream in excitement when Wanda touches down in front of Thanos to fight him*
*puts hands on head*  OHH MY GOOOOODDDDD
They’re literally just playing Keep Away with a teenage boy.  Marvel, everybody.
*Captain Marvel destroys Thanos’s ship*  WELL IT TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH
OK I got mixed feelings about that [the girl power team up scene]
*Thanos unsuccessfully headbutts Carol*  Oh shit!
*Doctor Strange holds up one finger*  Oh my God this is it
Someone definitely tore off when Thanos pushed Tony off
It was in that moment he [Thanos] knew- he effed up
*All of Thanos’s army dissipates*  Byeee...
Is it bad that I’m not crying at Tony’s death?
*gasps when Peter reunites with Ned at school*
Wait the whole time heist takes place within ONE DAY?
“I love you 3000.”  I really hope we see Morgan again somewhere in one of the movies or shows.  Actually a cool way to reincorporate her would be in the Ironheart series whenever they make it
Even Drax is wearing black!
It’s the “We should be getting therapy but we got a TV show instead” trio [Wanda, Bucky, and Sam]
Wait is that guy- was that guy- the little kid from Iron Man 3?
AN:  Yes
So right after this funeral, Wanda’s gonna storm SWORD right?
AN:  This was finished up on 2/26 so probably YES
*Thor crowns Valkyrie the new leader of New Asgard*  I now cannot wait for “Thor Love and Thunder”
Wait Peter’s looking for Gamora!
Still cannot believe that the time travel suits are completely CGI
I know they had a body double for Chris Evans here but I do think it would have been cool if they used the body double’s voice for Old Steve instead of Chris trying to sound old
He [Steve] put the shield in an art portfolio bag...
*says “No, no I don’t think I will” along with Steve*
*silently jams out to “It’s Been a Long, Long Time” playing during the credits*
Wait and that was the song Fury was playing in “Winter Soldier”
Oh they even got the actual signatures!  That’s awesome!
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