#sorry i didn’t bother with making them sound british so you can decide what kind of football james plays
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1/7 prompt: headache (1113 words) - @jegulus-microfic
Every year at the start of football season, Regulus’ university team holds its annual Boy Toy Charity Auction. A makeshift stage and runway are set up in whatever large, open space the event planners can secure and the players are sent out, one by one, to sell themselves to the highest bidder for the night. It’s a win for everyone really– the money goes to a good cause, the bidders get to go on dates with their pick of ‘the hottest guys on campus’, and the football players get nice, long, strokes to their egos. Regulus couldn’t have cared less about the whole thing.
And yet, here he stands in a room packed tight with people who have spent the whole night ready to throw their money at every attractive man to walk down the runway, too-loud music and voices speaking over each other sending Regulus hurtling towards a headache. Most players have already been bid on, and Regulus can feel himself getting restless.
He only came because Sirius insisted. Absolutely not because James, Sirius’ best friend and the guy he’d been mildly pining over since he was twelve, would be a part of the auction. Even less so because there had been a recent shift in their relationship, barely concealed hope growing a bit with every interaction between them. He wasn’t desperate to see who would bet on James, and how James reacted to it. Not at all.
“Do you think they’ll bid out the sound guy?” Sirius cranes his neck to get a good look at the tall man on the side of the stage, clearly trying to do as much of his job as possible without being seen. Regulus recognizes him immediately as Remus Lupin, the TA in one of his classes.
Regulus scowls, “I don’t know? I don’t care.”
Sirius bites his lip, still distracted by Remus when Regulus’ words seem to register. He turns back to Regulus, squinting. “Just because you’re getting impatient waiting for your choice bid doesn’t mean you get to have an attitude. No one likes a grouch.”
“I’m not bidding on him,” he mumbles.
Sirius nods with a look of mock contemplation, “So you’re fine with someone else bidding on him then?”
Regulus ignores the way his face heats up and his chest tightens at the thought, rolling his eyes.
“I’ll live.”
The music fades as the man at the podium begins to announce the next player.
“Alright, this is our last boy for the night, so get excited and turn out those pockets! Remember, this is for a good cause!” The music swells as the crowd cheers.
James Potter has always thrived on attention. Regulus figured it had to be some mix of being an only child and being as attractive he is. It had to have gone to his head.
So, it’s unsurprising when he bounds onto the stage, smile blinding as people in the crowd whoop and wolf whistle. Regulus watches dumbfounded as he struts to the end of the runway, before reaching down and pulling his jersey over his head, revealing the “BOY TOY” painted across his chest.
“Here we have team captain and heartthrob, James Potter! Do we have a first bid?” The announcer has to all but yell into the microphone to be heard over the crowd.
“Eighty dollars!”
“Jesus,” Sirius laughs. Regulus is not laughing.
“Eighty dollars! Do I hear eighty-five?”
Panic grips Regulus as the bid gets higher and higher. Most bids that night hadn't even reached eighty dollars, yet alone started there. Before his senses can kick in, he’s calling out a bid of his own.
“One hundred and ten!” Just out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sirius turn toward him, mouth agape. His face burns, and he can’t look at James, but he has already committed to it.
“One hundred ten! Is there a one-fifteen?
“One hundred and fifty dollars!” a woman somewhere in the crowd calls. Regulus grits his teeth.
“One-eighty,”
“One-ninety!”
Regulus groans under his breath, too aware that he only had two hundred dollars in his wallet at the moment. He turns to Sirius, who's watching with wide eyes and an amused grin. “Do you have cash on you?”
“Yeah, fifty. Why?”
“Give it to me.”
“What? No.”
“Please for the love of god, Sirius, I’ll pay you back and introduce you to the sound guy, I know him. Just do this one thing for me.”
“One-ninety going once!”
“Fine.”
“Two-fifty!”
When no one attempts to outbid him, Regulus lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in since the bidding started. He finally looks at James as he begins walking backward on the runway. His smile has turned into a smirk, and he winks at Regulus before turning around and jogging backstage. Regulus’ stomach curls into not entirely unpleasant knots.
“I can’t believe I just agreed to give you fifty bucks to get with my best friend.” Sirius mumbles, before a slightly delirious laugh bubbles out of him. “I knew you couldn’t handle someone else bidding on him.”
Regulus chooses not to respond, only shoving his arm instead.
Everyone begins clearing out, either disappointed that they didn’t win any dates, celebrating their winning bids, or simply buzzing from the dramatic end to it all.
“Better go see your ‘date’. Tell Prongs to have you home by midnight or I’ll hunt you both down.”
Regulus scowls, but there's no real bite to it, the nerves beginning to get to him. He says goodnight, then works his way to the table set up next to one of the doors for payment. Just as he’s finished telling the woman his name and handing over the money, he catches James standing a few feet behind him. His arms are crossed over his chest and Regulus has to try very hard not to look down at his biceps. Not that looking at his grin dead-on was much better.
“If you wanted to go on a date that bad you could’ve just asked, you didn’t have to drop two hundred and fifty dollars on me.”
Regulus is hyper-aware of the woman sitting there watching them. So, with the payment all taken care of, he steps away from the table, expecting James to follow him out of the building. He does.
“Don’t get a big head about it.”
James rests his hand on his chest and faux-gasps, “How can I not when the Regulus Black wants that badly to go on a date with me?”
“...Do you think they do refunds?”
“No, you’re stuck with me.” James’ smile softens, and Regulus can’t help the small smile that pulls at his own lips.
#i did it#i’ve finally written some sort of one tree hill au#‘bid’ and ‘bidding’ don’t feel like real words to me anymore#sorry i didn’t bother with making them sound british so you can decide what kind of football james plays#i couldn’t make it basketball that’s too on the nose#okay goodnight !#jegulus#starchaser#jegulus microfic#my microfics#regulus black#james potter
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Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Mycroft Holmes x Reader (Part Six)
AN- Two chapters in one night... hope you like them! Soft Holmes Brothers scene at the end because, especially after the Eurus situation, the boys truly do love and care for each other! Not proof read either of these yet so apologies if there are mistakes!
Word Count- 4405
The younger brother's eyes had flicked over you both only momentarily, the tiniest flick up of his lips at the side of his mouth that disappeared so quickly it could have been misinterpreted for a twitch.
"Ever the delight, Sherlock." Mycroft spoke, standing straighter, his chin poking up a little higher. Sherlock glanced over his posture and rolled his eyes.
"Oh for God's sake don't start that Mycroft. Had I blamed you for everything I can assure you I wouldn't have bothered opening the door, don't make it so obvious that you care about my opinion of you- it's embarrassing for both of us." And with that he spun around and headed up the stairs to 221B, leaving the door to the flat wide open and disappearing into the bathroom.
"Well that was.."
"Easy? I told you that you shouldn't worry." You nudged Mycroft into the building before ascending the stairs.
"Sherlock Holmes, possibly the only man in the world to forgive somebody for nearly killing him in a heartbeat, but held a 6 month grudge when I took the last custard cream from the biscuit jar when I was 12.." Mycroft muttered, making his way into the flat and sitting beside you on the two seater sofa. John walked into the room from the kitchen shortly after, a tray of tea and biscuits in hand as he said his hellos.
"Figured I'd stick the kettle on when you said you were on your way.. Greg shouldn't be long now." He gave a smile, taking his place in his own armchair. "How have.." He glanced at Mycroft. "How have you been? He won't admit it, but Sherlock's been worried about you." Mycroft took a breath, sending a polite smile in the direction of the army doctor.
"Doctor Watson, I can assure you that I am fine and have been perfectly well looked after." His eyes flickered to you for a moment and then back to the doctor. "I presume the pair of you have held up well as I haven't heard any reports of gunfire towards the wall for a fair bit of time." John grinned, casting his eyes over to the smiley face on the wall that had thankfully been left alone.
"Good. Yeah, uh, things here have been.. good.. too." A blank stare matched with a more thoughtful raise of lips. ".. Very good, actually.."
"Catch." Sherlock came stalking into the room, a damp flannel thrown in Mycroft's general direction which he caught expertly, not allowing a single moist patch to appear on his clothing.
"And this is.."
"A flannel? Christ Mycroft has trauma affected your brain cells that much?" Sherlock quipped, flopping down into his armchair and lazily holding his hand out for his tea that was a mere few inches away from his fingers. John placed the mug in his hand without thought or argument, his fingers brushing over Sherlock's slightly before moving away. A biscuit soon followed, John holding out the digestive while Sherlock partly opened his lips, and shoving the food between them. It was your turn to raise your brow now, but you didn't say anything, instead just nudging Mycroft with your knee to make sure he had seen it too. Of course he had. "It's for your face, Y/N's lip balm is all round your mouth and it's making me feel a bit sick." John's eyes widened as he looked between the pair of you. You shrugged your shoulders and smiled, Mycroft simply sweeping away the slightly pink balm from underneath his lip and folding the wet cloth back up to place on the side. At least he hadn't picked up that you did it on purpose. Before anybody else could speak, the sound of someone bounding up the stairs filled the flat.
"Sorry I'm late, Ms Hudson let me in an- what did I miss?" Greg stood breathless at the door, satchel slung over his shoulder and a carrier bag in his other hand, staring at the apparent awkward glances shared between half the room. You stood from the sofa and headed over towards him, swiftly wrapping your arms around him and placing a small kiss on his cheek to say hello. He made his way into the room and perched on the arm of the sofa closest to Mycroft, casting another look at everybody when his question still hadn't been answered.
"Nothing of importance. Mycroft and Y/N have obviously decided to stop moping around each other like lovesick teenagers and finally admitted they've been infatuated with each other for years.. Now you're all caught up, can we get these papers sorted out so I can be more productive with my time?" Sherlock huffed.
"Nothing of importance? Don't be an arse Sherlock, that's excellent news." Greg clapped Mycroft on his shoulder and shot you a toothy grin. "Declaration in the park was it? Might be a good enough reason for me to not punch you for closing off St James'.." John's eyes widened more, if it were possible.
"You just.. closed off St James'? Can you even do-" The look Mycroft shot John made him cut his sentence short. "Right, yeah. British Government." He nodded, standing to go fetch Greg a coffee (yourself and Mycroft still held a shared judgement against Greg and his hatred for tea) and continuing to ask questions about your newly confirmed relationship. Mycroft sat awkwardly through the encounter- briefly talking about his emotions in front of you was one thing, a whole flat full of people was entirely different- so you gave his knee a quick squeeze and answered for him. "Who bit the bullet then?" John sat down. "Christ I know I mistook the pair of you being together when I met you, so surely these two have been waiting longer for you to get on with it." Greg grinned, nodding in agreement at John's assumption. Sherlock, on the other hand, stay lying on his chair completely unphased by the conversation going on around him.
"To cut a long story short, we were watching telly, I said Stephen Fry was a bit sexy, Mycroft informed me that he used to get told he had a slight resemblance to him, I realised I'd stuck my foot in it and had a ramble.. Went from there. Nothing too exciting, sorry." You left out the parts where the night before you had handled a broken Mycroft to the shower, how he had gripped onto you, how you held him as you slept. You also left out the way he had allowed himself to cry, how you held him while he wept- and, for that, Mycroft was incredibly thankful. Sherlock probably knew though, somehow, in his Sherlock way of knowing things- but he was either too kind to announce it to the room, or didn't care enough to waste his breath.. probably the latter.
"That's disappointing. You've mentioned about fancying Stephen Fry for years, this could have happened ages ago." John teased.
"Nothing compared to Hugh Laurie though. I'm pretty certain that I'm straight but I'd let him-"
"The papers!!" Sherlock's shout cut Greg's ramble off, making the silver haired man jump and grab his satchel, handing out the reports in a way that reminded you of a teacher with test papers.
"Right, yeah. Sorry. Basically the proper forms aren't ready for another week or so so these are just a few basic questions- nothing too in depth yet since I wanted to give you guys time to... yeah just basic for now." Mycroft chose to read through all the questions before answering them, whereas Sherlock hastily scribbled his response to each question as he went along- the smaller details in the Holmes brothers' differences are always interesting to stumble upon. As he held the page in his hands, you carefully leant over to have a glance at the questions, your hand resting lightly on his shoulder and your cheek resting just against your fingers- blissfully unaware at the 2 sets of eyes openly staring at your movements, and the one set that watched from the side. Greg was right, in a way, the questions definitely weren't as overbearing as they could be- but that doesn't mean it was an easy task. The questions targeted Mycroft a lot more than it did John and Sherlock, asking things about scenarios and situations that had occured before they were taken, how long it had been since they had any contact with Eurus prior to that evening/ what they discussed, and a few basic questions about any incentives Eurus may have had, and anything that aided her into her plan. Of course the papers weren't labelled with the sister's name, they were generically printed and typically handed out to anybody involved in any kind of criminal behaviours, but that didn't make it seem any less like these were questions that targeted Mycroft in particular. Mycroft took a deep breath and laid the papers back onto the coffee table in front of him, pulling a pen out of his pocket and beginning to write. In this moment you had noticed the small bounce of his left leg, a movement only ever shown by him in times where he had a particularly stressful day at work, or a troubling encounter with his brother- it was a movement that let you know his brain was running a mile a minute and he felt a little more overwhelmed that usual. Without making a point of it, you move your right hand to rest on his mid thigh, allowing your thumb to rub small shapes into his leg to show your support.
Turning your gaze to the rest of the room, you noticed Greg's eyes on you, a grin on his face that practically stretched to his ears. You rolled your eyes at him, using your other hand to flip him off and smiled.
It had taken just under two hours in total for the boys to finish completely (well, an hour and twenty minutes for the Holmes siblings, an extra forty minutes for John whose brain simply didn't work as fast as theirs to convey the information on the paper). The time had passed fairly quickly, with yourself and Greg not wanting to disturb the silence and instead just drinking your hot drinks and stealing a couple of biscuits from the tray. You gave Mycroft's leg one last squeeze before sitting back against the sofa, stretching a little after finally getting out of that position.
"Thanks again for getting this done today." Greg spoke, taking the papers in and putting them in a plastic folder. "I'd better be off anyway, get these filed in." He stood, heading for the front door and tripping over the carrier bag he had brought in with him earlier. "Shit, yeah I almost forgot." He picked up the bag and handed it to you. "Got your coat, and I may have accidentally read your mind if you had been talking about Stephen and Hugh.." You dug through the bag and grinned as you pulled out the box at the bottom.
"You, Gregory Lestrade, are a bloody legend. God I could kiss you!" Your boxset of 'A Bit of Fry and Laurie' rested in your hands and you showed it to Mycroft, beaming at him. His lips raised at your reaction, showing a small glint in his eye, as you explained how now the pair of you would have to binge watch it since Mycroft had never got round to watching them before. Greg barked out a laugh.
"I wouldn't. I don't fancy being hunted by Mycroft's secret services." Mycroft let out a small laugh himself. And with that, Greg was gone and left the flat to the four of you once more.
***
You hadn't stayed at the flat long before you all made your way to Angelo's restaurant, even managing to convince Mycroft to just take a cab rather than bothering his chauffeur for a 5 minute journey.
"Ahhh Mr Holmes, Doctor Watson!" Angelo greeted, pulling the aforementioned men into an awkward half embrace, half headlock. "Back again so soon? I shall get your usual table set up, grab some candles. Anything for you!" The pair of men awkwardly shifted out of the hold and Sherlock offered a smile.
"Not today Angelo, we need a table for four if that suits your capacities here?" Sherlock peered round at the tables inside.
"Of course, a double date, very lovely to see! Come, come!" He led the four of you inside, you grinning at Mycroft at Angelo's casual mentionings of Sherlock and John's usual 'romantic' set up. You were all ushered inside of a small booth and handed menus, the benches were small but tolerable, your thigh just brushing against Mycroft's, him offering a shy smile at the close contact. "You stay here, I'll get to work on those candles. Just for you, Mr Holmes." Angelo spoke again, clapping Sherlock on his shoulder and disappearing into the back of the restaurant.
"He's.. uh.. a bit enthusiastic sometimes." John spoke, his cheeks burning a little at the memories of previous encounters here.
"Quite. Seems a pleasurable fellow." Came Mycroft's response, glancing over the menu. It had taken no time at all for the restaurant owner to appear back with a handful of small tealight candles in glass jars, and a single flower resting in a vase to lay on the table, taking everybody's orders and leaving once again. Then as the food turned up, Sherlock began to prod at the chips on his plate with his knife.
"What are you doing? Eat your bloody food, Sherlock." John quipped, elbowing the man to his side.
"Don't want it.. whoever decided that dessert was only customary after a meal? I'd much rather wait." John gave Sherlock a look and he spoke again. "Don't give me that look, this was your idea. Who even suggests 'late lunch' as a valid meal time? It's impractical. I didn't eat breakfast because we didn't get out of bed until well past the respected breakfast hour.." 'We'.. you didn't press. "So I had a sandwich at lunch which has ruined my appetite for this. Then I'll be hungry again later, but later than dinner time because of how late this lunch is." Sherlock childishly squashed his chip with his thumb. "It's just ridiculous.. they keep adding new names for new meals at new hours, I feel like we're becoming Bobbits."
"Hobbits, brother mine." Mycroft corrected, the faintest smile playing at the side of his mouth as Sherlock's words sounded alarmingly like the ones he had told you only this morning- it was nice when they just got along.
"That's what I said."
"No, you said Bobbits."
"Boys!" John warned, and you broke out into a small fit of giggles.
"We really can't take you anywhere, can we?" You chimed in. Sherlock just huffed, stabbing a chip and eating it as John gave him a stern look. It was quite sweet, actually, watching them be all domestic. By the time you'd finished your meals, yours and John's plates were clear, Sherlock's leaving only a few chips and a mouthful of burger as he found, after starting to eat the food, that he really enjoyed it and wanted more. Mycroft, on the other hand, had managed to leave little over half of his spaghetti bolognese, making comments about the pasta being far too rubbery, or the sauce being too thin, crossing the cutlery over in the centre and making a dismissive comment about making something to eat when he got home- you all knew he wouldn't.
Sherlock had practically jumped for joy when Angelo came out with a tray of chocolate fudge cake, offering slices around the table which you all, bar Mycroft, accepted happily.
"I shan't spoil my appetite for when I get home." Was his small excuse, raising a hand to prevent Angelo from spouting his claims that he had the best cake in London and that he must have a piece, and instead asking for a coffee. Without words being spoken, John cast his eyes over to you and you offered a small sad smile. Nobody had told John of Mycroft's past, but he was a doctor and always knew when signs were displayed. You had taken an extra fork from Angelo just in case and took a small bite with your own fork, unable to let out the (embarrassingly erotic) moan that had escaped you.
"Christ he wasn't lying, this is incredible." You praised, taking another small piece on the second fork. "Mycroft please give it a try." You offered your hand out towards him, the sliver of cake resting on the tip of the fork's prongs. He looked over at it, his mind telling him to give it a go, at the very least because it had been offered by you, but the image of himself in the mirror this morning came back to mind. He declined the offer and you sighed. Mycroft truly did love cake, and any sweet things, so it was heartbreaking for you to see him turning it away because of the thoughts that ran through his brain. Sherlock had already cleared his plate by this point and stood up abruptly, hoisting his coat back over his shoulders.
"I'm going to go out for a cigarette, care to join me Mycroft?" He had asked, walking past the table. Mycroft creased his eyebrows into a frown.
"Sherlock, the pact? I haven't smoked for three years."
"Neither have I, let's go." Sherlock spoke back quickly, hoisting his brother from the booth and taking the pair of them outside. You raised a brow at John who simply shrugged his shoulders.
"I stopped questioning the pair of them and their motives a long time ago." He reasoned, the pair of you turning your heads to see the two Holmes boys outside resting against the restaurant's window.
"I try my best to.. they just still fascinate me." You spoke back, your eyes lingering on Mycroft a little longer before turning back to the table.
"So.. you and Mycroft. Going well?" John asked, his mouth raising in that side smile he often displayed when he was teasing somebody. "I can count on one hand the amount of times I've seen Mycroft Holmes smile in a non-threatening way, and over half of those were from since you walked into the flat earlier. I think I can only just about count on two hands times where he's pulled an expression that isn't stoic and emotionless."
"Yeah.. I didn't expect it to happen, if I'm completely honest with you. We've spent so many years just avoiding the subject, but after.. Eurus.. I don't know. It flicked something in Myc that made him regret not doing something about it sooner." John nodded, understanding where you were coming from. "You also don't give him enough credit. Everybody just assumes he's this 'iceman' persona, but it's all a front.. I've watched him laugh so hard that tears fall from his eyes, he's one of those people who throws their heads back and lets out an absolute belter of an infectious laugh. I've seen him get angry at the telly if I came over and some stupid reality show came on the telly.. He shouted at Kim Kardashian once on there for some reason or another. I've stayed up all night with him after he had gruelling days at work, him offering to do the same for me if I had a bad case and couldn't sleep. And then, very recently, I watched him cry." You continued on. "Mycroft Holmes is one of the most emotional, caring people I've ever known, he is just incredibly particular at who gets to see it. You're a doctor, John. You know how experiences in life can shape one's emotional stability, how it alters their mental health. Had you grown up without very many people being kind to you, you'd be scared to let somebody else in too." You finished.
"Sorry.. I didn't mean it to come out in a bad way.. I just meant.. It's nice. Seeing Mycroft acting like that, it's.. nice." He apologised. You waved it off. You knew John didn't mean any harm.
"Mycroft and I are old news anyway.. What about you and Sherlock? When did that surface?" You asked, beaming at the deep red John's face had become as he choked on a sip of his drink. "Oh come on, don't act like that. We've all been waiting for this one to happen since you moved in."
"I.. I don't know what you-" Glaring at him, he stopped himself. "Yeah fine, okay. When we got back to the flat that night we went into the front room and Sherlock lost it. I'd never seen him anything like it before, he just.. he just sobbed into a heap on the floor." He explained, the nervous tapping of his fingers against his glass trying to distract him from his eyes watering. "I didn't know what else to do, so I scooped him up and put him in his bed. He begged me to stay with him and I did. Then he apologised to me, for dragging me in all of that mess, for almost getting me killed and he just wouldn't stop apologising.. So I stole the stereotypical movie move and kissed him. Just kind of went from there. I think that night made us realise that beating around the bush all these years wasn't helping either of us, and the thought that we could have lost the other only a few hours beforehand woke us up." He coughed, his voice breaking slightly.
"God look at us.. All the people in the world and we've landed with the Holmes'" You grabbed John's hand from across the table and laughed. "Makes you feel quite special though, doesn't it? That, equally, there were all the people in the world and they chose us?" John grinned, giving your hand a squeeze.
"Could never tell them that though, their egos would go through the bloody roof."
***
"They're talking about us." Sherlock mused, breathing in the London air.
"It seems people do little else." Mycroft returned, casting his glance to you smiling with John at the table.
"She really does like you. I've spent years deducing everything about her to make sure she wasn't a secret Russian spy sent with the motive to kill you." The younger spoke playfully. "You could have eaten the cake."
"Hmm?"
"The cake. I know you wanted it, but you're going back to how you used to be. Now that you're together, you're nervous." Sherlock's voice was nonchalant, simple observations, which didn't ease his older brother at all. "It's pointless. She's entirely infatuated. I thought the childish doe eyes disappeared after being attracted to somebody for a few weeks, but she still looks at you like I look at a triple homicide."
"Resulting to similes now?"
"You need to stop that too. Dismissing it whenever somebody is trying to be... kind... to you. That's just annoying and not a good defence mechanism for insecurities, like a mask made of clingfilm, it's too obvious." Mycroft didn't speak in turn and Sherlock huffed. "She worries for you, she seeks for you to be comfortable in trialling situations, her eyes do that little light up thing every time you open your bloody mouth. Since standing here she's looked over 3 times and smiled to herself seeing you stand here with me without us arguing. I caught her 4 times on the way to the cab from the flat looking at your arse and your legs in that damned suit. You don't have to worry about anything with her- the way she looks at you is so lovesick it makes me queasy."
"And you know this how, Sherlock? Or is this another one of your cruel schemes to embarrass me?"
"Because, Mycroft, it's the same way you've looked at her for as long as I can remember you knowing her. Jesus, Mycroft, I haven't seen you smile this much since we were children.. before we did everything that led us to believe we were any better than anybody else, that we deserved more than sentiment. And it's the same way I.. the same way I look at him." Sherlock's eyes now locked onto John.
"Always did say there would be a happy announcement between the pair of you. Good to see I'm correct once again." Mycroft mused. He remained stoic, but his brother's words were whirring in his brain, leaving him in a state of shock at the curly haired man even displaying this form of kindness towards him.
"You told me once that caring isn't an advantage. But these last few days, no matter how short it has been, have already led me to believe that caring is perhaps the greatest advantage of them all. And I strongly believe you feel the same way, no matter what bull you make up to argue against it." The pair of them watched through the window once more, the image of you and John laughing at whatever joke had been shared between you. "We both have wasted many years fighting against this, and I don't want you to screw yours up. Y/N will remain by your side and feel the same way towards you, whether you wear a bin bag, lose your job, put on weight- she's in it for the long haul. She's spent so many years pining after you that she deserves the best from you and to be happy. And you, brother mine, have been through enough with not good people; you deserve the happiness too." Sherlock trailed the last sentence. It's incredibly rare for them to show it, but Sherlock and Mycroft would always have a particularly close bond, they've been through too much together not to- and so times like this were precious to them. Mycroft simply let out a small cough, reaching his arm over to rest on his younger brother's shoulder to give it a quick squeeze, before patting it twice and letting his arm rest back by his side.
"Sentiment appears to be dwelling well on you." Mycroft spoke, heading back to the door of the restaurant to head inside, holding it open for his brother.
"As it is on you, brother. As it is on you."
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A/N: Let us kick off autumn season with everyone’s favourite pirate! This Imagine is based on requests from @manymanycupsoftea and two anons. This is probably not entirely historically accurate or more than a fluffy piece of even more fluff but… Have fun! 🎃😋
Words: 1913 Warnings: fluff, anxiety (fear of thunderstorms)
The first thunder ripped you from your light sleep, growling in the grey sky. It was so loud you could feel it vibrating in your chest. Sweating, you sat up, your limbs shaking.
One of the more considerate crew members had offered you a hanging mat but you had opted to build yourself a little nest behind some heavy wooden boxes full of ammunition and cannon balls instead, on top of a pile of fishing nets. It was surprisingly comfortable but most of all, it was safer.
It was for the first time now that you regretted your decision. Thunderstorms did not usually scare you this much—but on a ship, in the middle of the ocean with no land in sight… your anxiety stirred like a rousing lion ready to devour you.
You whimpered, unable to stop the pitiful sounds escaping your lips as you curled up in the corner. You had long gotten used to the way the ship kept rocking on the strong waves of the sea—but today, it made you sick to the core. The Captain had promised land soon, if anything to stock up on the crew’s rum supplies. If you were not mistaken, you were sailing somewhere on the Atlantic Ocean. Jack had told you about an island where the British settled and harboured many treasures and expensive alcohol. He had only been once, in his drunken state, however, barely remembered any of the experience.
Another thunder. You flinched once more, pressing your forehead against your knees until you felt a stinging pain spreading on your skin but only pulled away to look up with tear-stricken eyes when you heard a barrel being knocked over, and the Captain cursing under his breath.
Closing your mouth shut, you sank against the wood, wishing you were a mouse. Unlucky for you, he noticed you regardless.
“You alright there, missy?” He leaned over one of the boxes, his dreads hanging down and making the beads woven into them clatter.
“No. Yes. Go away!”
Jack pouted. “That was… an unhelpful answer.”
“I’m just sea-sick.” You choked out, unwilling to meet his brown eyes. They were, so you had to admit, far too captivating.
“In which case you should hop on deck and not cower in the dark.” On deck. That would be even worse. And in this weather… what was he thinking? Probably nothing at all, given the amount of alcohol on the Black Pearl.
“H-How… how close are we to land?”
“’Bout half a day’s journey if the storm doesn’t blow us off course.” Jack leaned in even closer. You could smell him now. A wondrously intriguing mixture of rum, a little bit of sweat and the tangy soap he had stolen from a British mercenary last week—and strangely… having the infamous pirate so close to you calmed you down. A third thunder echoed through the endless sky above the ship, so loud this time even the sleeping crew stirred a little in its slumber. A scream escaped your lips before you were unable to stop it.
Captain Jack Sparrow was many things but he was certainly not stupid—and he did not quite manage to wipe the shit-eating grin off his face when he said, “You’re afraid of the storm?” It was not a question; and even though you felt the urge to slap him for mocking you for your anxieties, what he did instead startled you to the core.
He reached out for you, offering you his hand. Utterly confused, you stared at it, counting the many precious rings on his fingers and wondering what had caused the long scar right above his knuckles. A sword, perhaps?
He was a pirate. Pirates should not behave this way. You had not expected a life where you were being respected by your comrades when you joined this ship for no other reason than to escape the social conventions of your own family, to flee having to bend to rules you fundamentally disagreed with. Rules like forced marriages for the sake of society and reputation. Ugh.
And now here he was, taking your hand into his, pulling you off the ground and leading you over to one of the hanging mats. You stopped dead in your tracks when you realised what his destination was.
“I am not going to sleep in a hanging mat with you!”
Jack’s upper lip twitched slightly. “I wasn’t gonna sleep, I was gonna drink.” He said matter-of-factly, pointing to the bottle of rum on another wooden box next to the hanging mat as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Jack let go off your hand and made himself comfortable.
You presumed you had two options now. You could either jump in at the deep end and join him or you could return to your little nest, letting your anxiety get the better of you. The next thunder made you decide quickly. Before you could change your mind, you climbed up to him, realising only when it was too late that this hanging mat did not provide enough space for two people. You ended up using him both as your pillow and your mattress and Jack had the audacity to groan and then chuckle as he took a greedy sip from his rum.
“Sorry. This isn’t going to work, I’ll…”
“I’m not complaining about havin’ a beautiful woman sleeping on me, missy.” He cut you off.
“I won’t sleep. I’ll just… wait until this stupid storm is over.” You retorted, ignoring vehemently how the pirate had just called you beautiful and made his comment sound ambiguous. It was oddly flattering.
And then there it was again, his intoxicating smell, the alcohol more prominent now that he was sipping on his rum. You almost smiled to yourself. What would your mother say if she knew you were currently resting on top of a fearsome pirate who had more or less just non-verbally promised to protect you from a storm? This was more than your husband-to-be ever could have done for you.
Against all conviction, you fell asleep.
-
The next morning the crisp October air was fresh, as if cleansed by all the rain that had poured into the ocean and on deck of the Black Pearl overnight. The dark and threatening storm clouds had gone, the sun rising on the horizon. Jack had been right. There was land in sight—and the haven was busy, full of merchants and traders wearing… exceptionally strange clothes, their carriages full of pumpkins.
A frown decorated your forehead. Pumpkins? It could not be… had you been sailing for so long now?
“It’s Halloween.” You whispered—both euphoria and grief washing over you all at the same time. As a child, you had loved Halloween. Your father had brought Turkish Delight all the way from Eastern Europe to be eaten and you had been allowed to dress up as a fierce pirate girl with a wooden sword.
Jack leaned over, his lips slightly parted in an irritated manner. You shivered when his hot breath brushed against your ear.
“Uh… do you know why they’re all dressed like that?”
“They are wearing costumes.” You responded, smiling faintly at the memory. Jack looked at you as if you had grown two heads, eliciting a giggle from you. You didn’t know why but somehow… you kept growing to like the cocky pirate.
“It is an annual celebration to scare away nasty spirits. So this might be the one day of the year you will not look conspicuous being dressed like… well, a pirate.” You concluded, your voice more confident now. Perhaps it was not so bad after all. Jack had shown you nothing but kindness so far. “I wish I had a costume.”
“That can be arranged. Master Gibbs!” He called out, without ever taking his eyes off of you.
“Aye, Captain?”
“You’re in charge! I’m takin’ this lovely lady out for a drink!”
“Aye, Captain.” Gibbs repeated, raising his eyebrows just a little at being left with all the work while Jack was amusing himself with a woman. Heavens, what were you thinking? He was a pirate. You would not be amusing yourself with him… like that.
“Why?” You asked, as soon as you had followed him across the wooden boarding ramp and past a few merchants offering you fresh and big pumpkins. It was almost short of a miracle Jack’s ship did not attract any attention—but then again, this island was different—and it was Halloween.
“’Cause I’m thirsty.” He replied.
“You’re always thirsty. I mean, why are you taking me with you?”
“Cheer up, luv.” Love? Did he just call you love? It did in fact distract you so much you did not realise he never bothered to answer your question. “They serve the best rum here! But don’t tell that me mates on Tortuga. Ah, wait.” He stopped dead in his tracks and spun around, the sudden movement having you knock straight into him. He chuckled when you blinked.
You were standing in midst of a rather busy alley now. Market stands and laundrette services caught your attention, across the dusty ground a few chicken ran for their lives, being chased by a butcher with bloodstains on his white apron.
Unceremoniously and without any shame, Jack plucked a surprisingly well-made suit from a nearby clothesline. It was a British sailor’s uniform.
“You wanted to dress up?” He grinned, his golden teeth glinting in the rising morning sun.
“As a British sailor?” You asked, reaching for the appertaining hat but unable to stop yourself from reciprocating his grin in the process.
“As a freebooter!” He protested as he took the hat from your hand and put it on your head. Heavens, could this get any more bizarre?
Apparently it could, for about ten minutes later you found yourself sitting in a dimly lit tavern in a stolen costume, sipping, for the first time in your life, on a mug filled to the brim with rum. Jack had already half-emptied his while you were struggling not to end up completely drunk after only two sips.
If all this wasn’t strange enough already, you were the only woman in here—a circumstance which the other men, pirates or whatever they might have been, did not fail to notice. And when one of them gathered up his courage to approach you in a both eager and suspicious manner, the infamous pirate Captain simply slipped an arm around you, pulling you against his strong body and hence, scaring the stranger away.
Rum, sweat, tangy soap… you could get used to this.
“Jack? Thank you.” You blurted out before you could stop yourself. To say he was startled did not quite capture it.
“What for?”
“Everything. I think… I think you’re a good man.”
He frowned, hesitating. “I’m a pirate.”
“Yes, you are. But you have a good heart. You could have left me behind laughing at me when I begged you for shelter on your ship upon fleeing from my family. You didn’t… and now this is more than I could have ever imagined.”
“You’re livin’ a pirate’s life now, luv.” Love. There it was again. Smirking smugly, he raised his mug. “Take what you can.”
You laughed, more men turning their heads your way—right now, with Jack by your side, you couldn’t care less. “And give nothing back!” You clinked your glasses and drank. “Oh, and Happy Halloween!”
-
A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! Caffeine is essential as a writer, I guess. And red wine. A lot of red wine. ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥
#halloween clipart in title by hotshotspecialgmailcom#jack sparrow#jack sparrow imagine#jack sparrow x you#jack sparrow x reader#jack sparrow fluff#captain jack sparrow#captain jack sparrow imagine#captain jack sparrow x you#captain jack sparrow x reader#potc#potc imagine#pirates of the caribbean#pirates of the caribbean imagine#johnny depp
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Hey sorry to bother you but I wanted to ask if you could rec some good sources on learning more about Indian Culture/history/customs. Movies books anything really. I have looked online but well, I always take things on the internet with several grains of salt. And considering I know very little on it, I can't say how reliable the information is. I would like to incorporate elements of Kate being Indian when writing about Kate (and Kate and Anthony) going forward and I want to do it in as respectful and accurate a way as I can. For example, I had a thought of Anthony seeing Kate and her fam celebrate Holi and falling in love with how happy and carefree she is and brushing some paint off her cheek before she dunks some pigment onto him or something 1/2
But considering I've never celebrated Holi or seen it celebrated before I don't think I'd do a good job to write it... I know I get annoyed when people get the basic customs and traditions of my culture wrong. Anyway sorry for rambling TLDR: I would like to learn more about Indian culture and idk where to begin so I would be grateful for any direction you can point me at 2/2
so this has taken me a while to answer because i needed to find time to sit down, think about it and answer it properly. it might seem like a somewhat simple question, but to me, at least, it’s complicated? (i’m probably going to be going over stuff you probably already know, but i’m trying to answer in a complete way.)
i need to start off by saying that my family is from north india (gujarat specifically), and because of that, i have a certain level of privilege, including how north indians and north indian culture is portrayed in the media (obviously including bollywood). i mention this because simone ashley is south indian, specifically tamil, and there is so much prejudice against south indians in general, and this obviously extends to how they are depicted and how their culture is shown in various forms of media; colourism (which simone has spoken out about) is just the start of it. (also, as someone who is north indian, i’m not the best placed person to talk about the prejudice and discrimination faced by south indians.)
a big part of why desi fans are so excited about simone’s casting as kate is because she a dark-skinned woc, and typically, dark-skinned women aren’t cast as romantic leads, and they’re not cast in shows anyway, especially when compared to light-skinned woc. so the fact that she’s going to be a lead in one of the biggest shows on netflix is a big.fucking.deal. in addition, they changed her character’s surname from ‘sheffield’ to ‘sharma’, which on the surface seems like a great idea, but if you look a little deeper, there are so many problems to be found.
(this got long so continues below)
sharma is not a generic indian surname; it’s specifically a north indian hindu name, which throws up questions. is kate going to be a hindu on the show? does this mean her family is from north india? are they going to talk about caste on the show because sharma is a brahmin surname? how are they going to explain kate being in england, and being out in society with the upper crust of the british aristocracy? (because of the time that bridgerton is set, and with them specifically setting up kate as indian, i honestly don’t know how they’re going to explain kate’s presence) i honestly think that the show didn’t think too deeply about it and they chose the name sharma because it starts with ‘sh’ and ~sounds indian. however, it’s thrown up so many questions that they can’t ignore, especially because they tried to explain race in the first season.
i talk about all this because you ask about holi, and incorporating elements of kate being indian when writing. and i’m not trying to be mean, but i would maybe hold off altogether? i need to point out that holi is a hindu festival, and is not specifically tied to being indian. i know i mentioned that sharma is a hindu surname, but we don’t even know if kate is going to be hindu, she may be a christian, or another religion or an atheist. also, because simone is tamil, they may decide to have kate be south indian despite the north indian origins of sharma, if they chose to address it at all. and depending on where in india you are from, and your religion, you will celebrate different festivals. even indians of the same religion celebrate different festivals, and some celebrate occasions at different times (e.g. gujaratis celebrate hindu new year the day after diwali. this isn’t the case for most other hindus. if we take holi, i know that it tends to be celebrated more in north india, and the image you describe isn’t necessarily universal).
there has been a lot in the tags regarding clothing, and seeing kate and her family wearing indian clothing, and while i get it, it makes me nervous. personally, i cannot wait to see kate in the same style of dresses that everyone else wore in season one. why? because seeing an indian woman in that period of dress is something i have been longing for. i don’t want to see an indian woman wearing a lengha or a sari or sabyasachi in that time period, i want to see her in a bonnet and empire waistline, because that is something we haven’t seen much of.
also, talking about seeing kate and her family wearing indian clothing has the potential to ‘other’ her, and tbh, can come across sometimes as fetishy, especially when you consider the time the story takes place in, and all the implications of colonialism. (there’s also the fact that unless the show has hired indian costume designers, it would be kinda gross for them to use any kind of indian clothing, and that includes adding elements to the era-typical dress that i’m hoping for.)
i’m going to be honest, i’ve seen pieces of fanart with kate wearing a sari and other indian clothing, while anthony has been in typical regency dress, and it makes me uncomfortable. it gives off coloniser vibes, and that’s a dynamic i have absolutely no interest in. there’s also the fact that i’ve seen art where simone as kate has been shown as light-skinned, to the point where she appears to be the same colour as anthony, and i mean, hello?!
full disclosure, i’ve made some posts regarding headcanons and music that i should have thought twice about. i’ve reblogged stuff that i should have thought more about before i did so. why? because they had overtones of north indian privilege, and/or orientalism. being indian (wherever in india that is) is part of someone’s identity, it’s not a gimmick to sprinkle onto things, and it’s not something to festishise, and i think, at least from what i’ve seen, that is the concern a lot of desi fans have, even if that’s not the intention of the original posters.
i realise i’ve gone on a seemingly massive tangent, but what i’m trying to say is, i don’t think there is a need to specifically reference kate being indian, especially when when writing canon-era fic, even more so when you consider we don’t know how the show is going to address it. now, i’m not saying i have faith in the show when it comes to kate and her ~indian surname, just that until we know how the show addresses it, i don’t see why it needs to be referred to? i understand why one might want to, but i just think there are waaay too many potential pitfalls, and the risk of coming across as orientalist/patronising/fetishy too high. some fans have fears when it comes to kate sharma and how she is presented, and for good reason.
sorry for not answering how you expected, and not giving you the resources you asked for (which, tbh, i’m not sure i would know where to start). i get what you were trying to ask, and i thank you for asking in the first place, but the question felt a little unfair tbh. but, i would encourage to read up on orientalism, also about the privilege that north indian hindus have, and honestly, the british colonisation of india.
ETA: i put this in the reblog but im going to add it here as well
also, something i forgot to add, even though i talk about north indians/north india and south indians/south india, it is obviously more complicated than that. there are many different states in india, and even then, different regions within those states will have different customs to each other. and then you have to factor in religion. likewise, there’s no one language that everyone in india speaks. basically, it’s not one universal culture that can be ‘boiled down to the essentials’.
#kate sharma#kate sheffield#kathony#bridgerton#anthony x kate#kate x anthony#simone ashley#kanthony#if i've got something wrong please PLEASE correct me#also if i've forgot to say something that needs to be said#idk anymore#i am once again wishing they hadn’t tried to explain race during season one#look at all the stuff it’s thrown up#ask
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You’re gonna go far, kid [Punk! England x reader]
Synopsis: Ever since coming to England to study, you haven’t had the time to do what made you come in the first place--tourism! The only friend you have is an exchange student from Russia, Ivan, so why not kill two birds with one stone? He schedules a little playdate with Arthur, a local, so he can show you around the hottest spots in London. You two immediately hit it off. Ivan is quick to notice his interest in you, so he starts teasing the poor man and making things hard for him. Camden is the last destination, and there’s no saying when he’ll ever see you again. Will he be able to get over himself and ask you out before the night ends? Note: Attractions are italicized and have a link to a picture. Wordcount: 4,641 The reader is referred to as she/her.
This was the day you had been dreading, and yet, looking forward to. The first part was easy to explain. Picking up your hot latte, you set it down after a quick sip. You didn’t even have time to enjoy it. Not when you were typing away at your keyboard like a speed demon. You promised your friend you would finish your assignment before today’s meet-up, but your procrastination habits were a bitch. Nevertheless, you were eager to uphold your side of the deal, even if it meant stressing your hair out to get it done.
So long as he didn’t show up before you were done, right?
After burning your tongue for the second time that morning, you let out a small groan at the sting you felt but gasped at what you saw outside the window. It was a sound made from genuine terror--rather than the quiet streets of London at seven AM, you spotted a man pressing his face right up to the glass. And he was staring at you, menacingly.
Anybody would’ve been creeped out by the sight, but you knew the guy. “Aha--Ivan! Hey! Morning?” You began rather awkwardly.
He waved in response, and his glower melted away in exchange for a childlike smile. “Dobroye utro, (F/N)! I hope that’s not your assignment you’re doing.” He hummed, placing two hands on the glass to peer at your screen from outside. Oh shit. Glancing briefly at said screen, you turned it away before clicking the upload button.
“Of course not.” You grinned, shutting your laptop immediately after. “I was just... Surfing the net. Checking Instagram. You know?”
“Is that so? I’m gonna check.” He made his way inside. And in no time, he was looming over your shoulder to start browsing through your internet history. You, on the other hand, were sweating balls.
“You’re so funny, (F/N). Who checks Instagram on their computer?”
It seemed like only yesterday he was the oblivious exchange student from Russia who had no concept of social media. He had been a country bumpkin through and through, but a few semesters after befriending you, your influence rubbed off on him. Even you had no idea what went through your head when decided to talk to him, the intimidating new kid who spoke broken English, but there was no turning back now. He was attached to you by the hip and picked up on your habits faster than you could deal.
He only became more of a menace when he discovered Twitter.
A displeased expression contorted at his expression when he saw that there was no evidence of you ‘surfing the net’. Google Docs couldn’t possibly count, after all. “... Hm... Apparently, not you. Why didn’t you finish this yesterday, sunflower? Remember our promise?”
You sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. I passed out last night. But hey, I technically finished it before you came, didn’t I?”
He craned his head from side to side in thought. “Maybe. But if you hadn’t, you know what that means.” Ivan coiled his arms around your neck and a sickeningly sweet smile curled up at his lips.
“You will come with me to Moscow for Christmas!”
A chill ran down your spine at the thought. Going to Russia was bad enough. But during Winter? You were never good with the cold. If you could barely handle London, Moscow was out of the question. “Oh God, please no.” He nodded giddily. “I’m never going to Russia. Maybe I’d consider it during Summer, but--anyway, that’s not the point here! I didn’t break any promises so I won’t be turning into a popsicle this year. Got that?”
He pouted. “Aw...”
“You damn sadist.”
“Hehe.”
“I wonder how you even became friends with him. Arthur, was it? Poor dude.” You mumbled, but he didn’t look all too offended.
He tapped his chin and hummed. “Now that you mention it.” Then, he let out a short laugh. “It’s a long story. Let’s just say it was a happy little accident.”
“Unfortunate.”
“But don’t worry! I don’t plan on bothering you as much as him today.” Ivan clarified, earning a slow nod from you. Phew. The clock was inching closer to eight and you weren’t much of a morning person, so hearing that was like music to your ears. “That’s why I wanted you to finish your work yesterday. I want him to be the only one making mistakes! It’s interesting to see him mess up and get embarrassed.”
You had to wonder if he was using ‘interesting’ as a synonym for fun because he was clapping. “... Ivan, you really are a sadist.”
The two of you stayed in that café for another hour or so, ordering some breakfast during your stay. Once the table was cleared and the bill was paid, you and he caught a bus to the London eye. You could marvel at the iconic ferris wheel for a few minutes as you walked up to the London aquarium next to it, your first stop. The building was huge to start with, and it didn’t look like they’d be storing fish in there considering how fancy it was. But wasn’t everything in England fancy?
“He should be waiting in the front. Look for a short grouchy man with a bad taste in fashion.” You shot him a weird look, beckoning him to elaborate.
“... And blonde hair.”
“Alright. I guess I’ll try my best.” Glancing around the sea of people filled with tourists, couples, and families, you skimmed the crowd for someone who fitted the description--but to no avail. It was only when they walked up to you both did you find the guy. He had short and choppy blonde hair that framed a heart-shaped face, and under his fringe was a pair of lime green eyes staring on with a neutral expression. And did Ivan say he had bad taste?
You couldn’t agree. Yes, his charcoal pants were ripped and he had a bandana tied around his neck with a Union Jack on it. But he still had a kind of style you liked. Under his black leather jacket was a gray shirt, and combined with the piercings in his right ear, you couldn’t help admiring him for a second.
“Arthur! I was wondering if you were trampled because we couldn’t find you.” Ivan began, causing the said man to furrow his brows. And boy, were they thick.
“You just arrived, so don’t start now you twat.” He grumbled. Ivan never teased you for your height, even when you were a little shorter than the Brit. He always found it cute, but you figured it was only because you didn’t care. The Russian always found amusement in poking fun at others, after all. “Anywho, I’m glad I won’t be spending the whole day alone with you.”
Turning to you with a soft smile this time, he held out a hand for you to shake. “Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland.”
You shook it, but not without a laugh. It hadn’t even been a minute since meeting him, and his personality seemed to clash violently with his appearance. He sounded so prim and proper, but his outfit screamed punk rock.
“(L/N). (F/N) (L/N).”
He released you from his grip. Placing his hands on his hips with an accusing stare, he felt a grin upturn his lips. “Are you copying me, (F/N)?”
“I don’t know. Do all British people introduce themselves like James Bond?”
Arthur clicked his tongue. “... Not all of them. Just a force of habit.”
“Mhm. Right, right. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Arthur. I’m a student here too and I could only imagine how busy it gets for you--so thanks for coming out today!” He didn’t respond to those comments and simply nodded.
Ivan stayed quiet in the back, but he was probably reading the atmosphere like he always did when he didn’t speak.
“It’s nice to meet you too.” The blonde turned on his heel and closed his eyes. “As much as I’d like to stay out here and chat, we can do that in the aquarium. Wouldn’t wanna waste our tickets, do we?”
While the group of three wandered slowly through the establishment, Ivan lingered in the background while you walked in the front with the Brit. For the first ten minutes, you’d look at him expectantly, gesturing for him to join in the conversation. As the mutual, wasn’t he supposed to be the icebreaker? He’d shake his head every time, offering you a smile as if to say, go and make some friends. But soon, this brief spell of irritation morphed into gratitude.
“I’ve been here probably a hundred times, so don’t take it personally when I don’t seem as excited as you.” Turning to him to watch his face as he spoke--which was filtered through a bluish tinge from the Antarctic setting-- you only caught a brief glimpse of it before he turned away. Huh. Maybe it was just you not paying enough attention.
Either way, what came out of your mouth next would surely grab his.
“Don’t worry about it. But hey, this is the first time you’ve been here with me, so look alive, won’t you?” It happened to be a slip of the tongue, something bold and improvised, but luckily, he reacted fairly quickly before the regret set in.
“Oi, you better not be flirting with me already,” Arthur grumbled, feeling another smile come as he heard you chuckle. Since when was he this expressive? He pinned it on the fact that he was starting to have a little fun himself.
“Couldn’t imagine it.” Before he could add anything else, you hopped in front of the penguins and started waving your friend over with great gusto. “Ivan, c’mere. Arthur, mind taking a photo of us?” Once he joined your side, the two of you held up peace signs for the Brit to snap a photo.
“Ivan, change your pose. We can’t have both of you doing the same thing.”
The said man moved his peace sign to the back of your head so he could stick two fingers over it. “Is that better?”
“... Better.” Trailing his emerald eyes to you, he felt his cheeks heat up a touch at the sight of you grinning ear to ear. What the fuck, Arthur. Just take the damn photo. And that was exactly what he did, showing you both right after. Whatever just happened, he boiled it down to him idealizing a stranger. That was right. He had yet to get to know you, so his perception of you couldn’t be any better at this stage.
But there was one thing he couldn’t deny.
���Damn, I look really ugly in this. You two better not post this anywhere.” You settled a hand over the screen to lower it with a nervous laugh. Then, you looked away, and what was that? You looked a little flustered.
You were cute.
Hanging his head to look at the photo, he knitted his brows together. You? Ugly? He couldn’t imagine it.
“... I bet I could take an even uglier one of you.”
Spinning back to him, you folded your arms. “What did you say?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head slowly, and the amusement in his voice made it blatantly obvious he was lying.
“That’s what I thought.”
Walking off at that, Ivan followed. Because he was behind him, he could brush his shoulders against his. Arthur looked up at that, but almost wished he didn’t. Ivan was smiling down at him so shrewdly, it was threatening. Then, he raised a hand to his mouth so he could laugh softly. “Huhu. You like (F/N)~”
His eyes flew open and blood rushed up to his face. “What the hell gave you that impression? I literally just met them!” As adamant as he sounded, he knew deep inside he liked you, but only platonically. Your personality was refreshing, and talking to you was as easy as breathing. Even if it wasn’t platonic attraction, he was endlessly frustrated the other figured it out earlier than he could.
Whatever it was, he was certainly more sociable than usual, even to the point of being a tease. And not to mention the rosy cheeks. Maybe he should’ve just kept his trap shut--otherwise, his huge outburst let Ivan milk the obvious. Fuck. He even started to giggle like a schoolchild.
Giving him a rough shove, he muttered a string of curses under his breath. “I bloody hate your arse, you know that?” He hissed, his face now redder than a tomato. God, why he did have to be born so pale? Every slight change to his complexion was jarring, and it was embarrassing.
“Don’t hate me because I’m right,” Ivan hummed, joining his side as your back came into view. “Once you realize, it’ll be too late. I’m not letting you have (F/N). I will always be (F/N)’s number one.” Lighting up at that, he skipped off to you in the front. “Wait for me, sunflower! Don’t leave me alone with Arthur!”
Arthur stopped in his tracks and clenched his fists. How annoying. If he was going to continue being a little tyke, then he figured he’d up his game as well. He didn’t know what that exactly entailed yet, but he’d do it. Ivan didn’t even sound like he wanted anything more than friendship, so what was with that? Pointing a finger at him as he walked off with you, his face scrunched up.
“What did you even call me out for then, you idiot? I’m supposed to be guiding you both!” Picking up his pace at that, he slotted himself between you and him. Flashing you a brief smile, he gave Ivan another push without breaking eye contact. “It’s a tight fit for three, so he’ll stay in the back.”
“Hey, no fair!”
By the time the whole aquarium was toured, you and Arthur were laughing to yourselves while leaving through the exit.
But the joyful atmosphere was short-lived.
The Ferris wheel just outside was the next stop, and the Brit offered to splurge a little to have a carriage without strangers. That way, you could run around as much as you wanted, even if that meant leaving the two men to sit in their lonesome. While Ivan was sitting on the bench in the centre out of his own volition, the same couldn’t be said for him.
Sitting back to back to the other, he pressed his legs firmly together and leaned over in a hunch. Then, he dug his hands through his hair, all while keeping his round eyes fixated on the ground. His heart couldn’t stop pounding, and his head was spinning like a carousel. What was he thinking, taking you here? That was right. This was an iconic destination you couldn’t miss, that was why. He was initially planning on staying back there on the ground, but you were so excited, he couldn’t help but hop on with you.
Fuck. Maybe Ivan was right about him. But he wouldn’t let him know it. Speaking of the guy, he didn’t know if he was sitting there by choice, or just rubbing it in. While he was incapacitated by fear so he couldn’t even stand, he was sitting there because he wanted to.
“You should’ve stayed on the ground if this was going to happen.”
Arthur screwed his eyes shut and tightened his arms around his stomach. “... Shut up.”
“I was just saying.” Ivan murmured, looking at him over his shoulder. Poor guy. He really was down bad, wasn’t he? Down bad for you, that was. Too bad Arthur was hoping he wasn’t convinced--but it was too obvious. So all Ivan wanted was to prove his point, and later on, keep you away from him. But maybe he’d save it until after the ride was over. “... This ride is thirty minutes long. You’ll live.”
He heard the other groan. “Thirty minutes? How long has it been?”
“Mm... Ten.”
“Fuck me.”
Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be long before you would pull away from the railing and return to the company of the two. Arthur had been praying that somehow, you’d leave him alone sitting there, pathetically, but he couldn’t expect something so cold from you. So while he hung his head, he wasn’t surprised to feel your hand on his shoulder.
“Hey, you okay?” He heard you ask, but he never looked up.
“... Yeah. Just give me a minute.”
“I have. Ten, actually.” Taking a seat beside him, you leaned down to peer at his face, which was a few shades paler than normal. He didn’t even have the energy to respond, and kept his eyes fixed to the ground. Concern immediately contorted at your features, especially when he looked so shaken. “Arthur, you look a little sick. What’s wrong? Can you talk?”
He shook his head slowly before managing a weak smile at you. “Sorry, love.” It didn’t even faze him he just called you that. He was far too uncomfortable to feel the embarrassment from a nickname he should’ve saved until a little later.
“I’m not... Too good with heights. Never have been... I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.” His voice was slow and faint, and you were beginning to suspect he was having a panic attack. “... Sorry if I seem a little lame.”
“No, of course not.” You frowned. “Things like this happen. Just breathe with me, okay? You can do it. Just count to ten.”
Arthur took a deep inhale. “... Okay.”
Around ten minutes later of these exchanges, he calmed down some, especially when you kept on reminding him that the carriage was finally descending. Once the ride was over, you had to help him up and walk him out. Now that he had his two feet planted firmly on the ground, it didn’t take long for him to recover. Even then, you remained rather cautious and stuck with him on your journey to Soho. By the time everyone took their seats in Circolo Popolare, a beautiful Italian restaurant Arthur so kindly booked, you were still looking out for him.
Leaning over to rest your head on the table, you glanced up at his face with a soft smile. “... You okay now?”
A light blush dusted his cheeks and he nodded. You didn’t need to be this observant with him considering he was well now, but he loved your attentiveness. It wasn’t something he was used to. “Yeah, I’m fine now. Thank you. Now quit worrying about me, alright?” Rubbing the nape of his neck at that, you couldn’t help lingering on his body language for a moment.
It didn’t matter what he dressed like, or what his personality was. He could be endearing when it came to it, and a total softie too. And the thought made you smile even wider. If he thought you were cute, then you thought he was adorable. “Fine. I’ll leave you alone.” You slowly turned to Ivan, the action making Arthur tense up a little.
Reaching out to your hand, he took it. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
The feeling of his warm fingers around yours made your heart skip a beat. Did he just? Your thoughts manifested into your look of shock, and you darted your eyes over his neutral expression to try and decipher it. Before you could come up with anything, there was a phone in your face, followed by a flash.
“Wha--?”
He turned the screen to you to reveal a photo of you, and in your opinion, it was the least flattering picture anybody had ever taken of you. “I said I’d take an uglier photo of you, didn’t I?” Arthur grinned, the words acting like a cold splash of water to bring you back to reality.
“... You sneaky little shit.” You growled. “Delete that right now!”
“How about no?”
“I’ll never forgive you for this, Arthur.”
“I think you already have, love. You’re smiling right now.”
You stared at him wordlessly for a few seconds. Then, out of nowhere, you reached out to snatch his phone right out of his hands. Tapping furiously on the screen to get rid of it, you heard his chair scrape back violently as he tried to retrieve it. “Why, you--”
But it was too late. Gone forever. Lost in the abyss of cyberspace. And so, he immediately channelled his frustration by jabbing his fingers into your sides. “If I can’t have that photo of you, at least let me do this!” You burst into a fit of laughter so loud, nearby patrons turned their heads. Only then did he pull away, leaving you to recover through breathless wheezing.
“Fuck you, Arthur.” You whispered, but it was on an affectionate note more than anything. As you glowered at him from your seat, you never noticed Ivan doing the same thing, but he was glaring at the Brit for an entirely different reason. Arthur had to be the most self-aware person out there, and to make a scene in a restaurant like this? He really fell for you, didn’t he?
When he realized Ivan’s scorching gaze burning into him, he froze.
Not just out of how intimidated he was, but the epiphany that he was right all along. Why else was he acting so out of character? The only explanation was this--in the short time of being with you, he may or may not have developed a little crush. But that was no problem, right?
All he needed to do was to ask you out.
But that would prove a task easier said than done, especially when Ivan decided to attach himself to you by the hip after that stunt. That cunning bastard knew what he was doing. After a little window shopping around Bond street and Mayfair, he stuck to you like a tattoo, and kept it up until night fell. While the group walked around Camden, Ivan kept you by his side with a firm grip on your hand.
When you asked why he was suddenly so clingy, he simply justified it with, “It’s dangerous for small people like you to wander around at night!”
But Arthur called bullshit. Especially when the other went ahead and smirked at him right after saying it. Maybe he liked you too, but was refusing to admit it. How hypocritical. If not, then he probably didn’t want you making friends when you were the only friend he had. Whatever it was, he wasn’t about to back down so easily. Camden may be the last destination for the night, and perhaps, the last time he’d see you again for God knows how long, but it was his trump card.
If this didn’t sweep you off your feet enough to get you to pull away from Ivan, nothing would.
As a town famous for its thriving nightlife and punk culture, it encompassed everything he was passionate about, and he’d give anything to show it to you. So he included a visit to the bar here on the agenda today, one that hosted live music. While you and Ivan got comfortable in your seats, Arthur never made a move to sit down.
It was already dim inside, so you never noticed him leave. The next time you saw him, it was a few minutes later when he was on stage with a few other musicians. Leaning forward with surprise, you watched him strap on a bright red electric guitar. Walking up to the microphone, he adjusted that. No way.
You were still trying to process him being a professional performer, but a lead singer as well?
The second he strummed the strings to start a guitar riff, he opened his mouth to start singing.
Play this while you read
youtube
Show me how to lie, you're getting better all the time
And turning all against the one is an art that's hard to teach
His fingers never stopped moving as he belted out note after note. His voice was so different to how he talked, you had to do a double take. He sounded a little more rasp, a little more punk. To say you were impressed was an understatement.
Now dance, fucker, dance, man, he never had a chance
And no one even knew it was really only you
While he jammed out on stage, he was electric. The energy in the bar exploded, and he had everyone singing along. You could almost see the confidence in him shoot up from the excitable crowd, because he was smirking.
Nice work, you did.
You’re gonna go far, kid!
Turning his head to you as he sung that line, you raised a hand to your mouth. Whether he did that on purpose or not was a mystery. But no words could describe how attractive it was. Hell, it even made you mind blank for a few moments. This was Arthur? He was like an entirely different person! Needless to say, you were completely star struck.
You couldn’t even make out what Ivan was telling you when the music was blaring in your ears. But you didn’t care. Arthur had you caught in a trance with his voice and guitar all until the end. When the song finally ended, the band bowed graciously and threw up hand signs as the audience erupted in applause and cheers.
When he stepped off the stage, you didn’t hesitate to run up to him. There, you practically pounced on him for a tight embrace. “Oh my god, you were amazing! I didn’t know you could play so well! And sing, too! Why didn’t you tell me!?” You exasperated, pulling away to be met with his dazzling smile. It was the first time you’ve seen him so energetic, as if performing sparked a fire inside him that burned with youthful intensity.
“I was dying to show you all day. I wanted it to be a surprise, and I had to save the best til’ last, didn’t I?” He grinned, feeling his heart swell up with warmth as he watched you light up.
“Well, good on you! I loved it!” Squeezing him again, you felt his chest shake under his laughs. When you pulled away, you reached up to cup his face. But it felt so natural in the spur of the moment, even he didn’t seem to care.
“Thanks again for today, Arthur. I really appreciate you taking us out today. You completely blew me away.”
The way how you phrased it reminded him of why he was here in the first place. That was right. He still had to ask you out. And with Ivan watching on from afar, this was his chance. The thought reddened his cheeks, but while you had his face in your hands, he couldn’t feel more comfortable. “Is that so? If that’s the case, how about I take you out again?” His expression grew serious. “A proper date, I mean.”
It was your turn to blush, but you managed a quick answer.
“No need to look so serious, love. Of course I’ll go on a date with you.”
He chuckled and leaned in to peck your lips. “Stealing my vocabulary now, are we?”
“Stealing kisses now, are we?”
“Touché.”
Now a third wheel of the group, he breathed out a soft sigh and rested his cheek on his hand. “I guess my job here is done.” It didn’t really look like it, but he had been trying to play the wingman all along. Arthur was always one to go a little crazy when he wanted something, and only more so when he was desperate. So all he gave him was a little push in the right direction.
Maybe he would thank him later, but for now, he’d leave you two be.
This is a request. Thank you for requesting.
#hetalia fanfiction#hetalia#aph#aph england#england x reader#aph england x reader#arthur kirkland#request#oneshot#hetalia x reader#Axis Powers Hetalia#Axis powers ヘタリア#alfredosauce50#hetalia fanfic#ivan braginsky#aph russia#aph russia x reader#reader insert#x reader
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The Bat & The Lantern || Batman x Reader
Hi, lovely! I had so much fun writing this (I'm not gonna lie, I was quite nervous at first, since I don't know that much about the whole green lantern universe, but guess it turned out...ok?) so I hope you enjoy it as much as I did and to be honest, I would like to revisit this story again in the future!
Little disclaimer: The reader is a Human green lantern but similar to star-lord she lived the majority of her life in space, that's why she's so oblivious as to whom Batman is, also this takes place during Dick Grayson early years as robin (12-13).
Word count: 2233!!!
Summary: Reader is a new member of the Justice League...but Batman doesn't seem too happy about it.
Keys: Y/S/N: Your Superhero Name | Y/N: Your (real) Name.
Hal Jordan was your friend since you joined the green lanterns (which it was barely 3 or 4 years ago)
Basically...you were "new"
But that didn't stop your fellow green lanterns (?) From seeing all your potential.
Everyone is convinced that with the right training and perseverance, you will become one of the greatest green lanterns of all time.
So, it didn't take long before you proved yourself to be capable enough to join the big leagues.
More specifically, The Justice League.
Hal was the one to introduce you to his companions.
The Amazonian, the human looking alien, the speedster, the other Alien not so human looking, the half robot; everyone was so nice to you since they met you.
Everyone except...The grumpy bat.
When you first introduced yourself, he didn't even bother to be as welcoming as the others.
He just stood there, looking all big and serious that you almost thought it was a statue or the poor guy had catatonic lapses or was way too shy or socially awkward to approach you.
You felt bad, so you approached him instead.
—Hi! I'm Y/S/N...—You said enthusiastically before being abruptly interrupted.
—I know, I heard your introduction already—His voice so devoid of any kind of emotion that you may as well had been talking to a machine.
"Scanning complete, Batman"
A voice inside his cowl informed him, it sounded like an older man with a British accent.
—Thank you, I'll check it later.
That’s when it hit you…the reason why he was watching you so intensely and standing so incredibly still: He was scanning you.
Fucking. Son. Of. A. Bitch.
You stayed there, your face paralyzed with surprise and anger, without knowing very well what to answer; you didn't want to cause a scene on your first day, but this man was just so rude; That is not an appropriate way to receive a new member. yes, it is normal to have suspicions, but you would appreciate if he had the decency to let his suspicions be known when you weren't present.
—she just introduced herself and already on with the paranoic behavior, Bats? seriously? —Hal stepped in your defense.
—this is a routine procedure; I'm just being cautious.
—He was like that at the beginning with all of us too, don’t worry he’ll warm up to you in no time—Wonder woman whispered in your ear after watching your uncomfortable expression.
Ultimatedly you decided to listen to the amazonian and let that one slide, “is normal to be wary of new things anyways” you repeated yourself.
As the months passed you have grown quite frustrated. Between all the missions and meetings even though you felt your relationship with the rest of the team grow closer and they began to trust you and respect you; your relationship with the Batman stayed pretty much the same.
Yes, there was a bit of progress….a bit.
He was bit more talkative to you, a bit more “friendly”, a bit more trusting.
But it was always just a bit never actually fully a teammate to you, your relationship felt more like distant coworkers.
At the beginning it didn’t worry you too much, until your lack of communication started to mess with your performance in the missions, sometimes something completely bizarre and unexpected would happen and because both of you didn’t know each other very well, the mission would take the double amount of time to resolve since you couldn’t coordinate at all.
One time he almost ran you over with his batwing…
The whole thing was kinda funny looking back on it but at the time you were furious (rightfully so)
In his defense, he didn’t knew you were there…I mean…you basically where standing in his parking spot (not that you knew there was such a thing, most members could fly or at least jump really high, so you kinda always forgot he couldn’t…and to be honest you didn’t know his exact powers)
—Sorry—was all he said as he got out of the strangely shaped flying vehicle and directed only one glance at you to make sure you where ok before entering the building, always maintaining that characteristic calm and cold demeanor.
One day you entered the hall of justice earlier than usual only to find an unexpected guest sitting in one of the empty chairs his gaze fixated on a book, he was wearing a rather colorful suit of some sort matching his green mask, then you realized when you were close enough…he was a C H I L D.
You panicked, why was a child here? Is he some sort of mini spy? How was he able to get through the security system? Did he touch anything dangerous?
This and many more questions ran through your mind, the child noticed you were looking at him and only gave a polite nod as a greeting before returning his attention to his book.
Perhaps a school trip that you weren’t aware of was taking place and this kid strayed from his class? Perhaps he was looking for one of your teammates to ask for a photo and got lost and decided to wait here for his teacher? That will explain why everyone wasn’t here in the meetings room, perhaps they were busy giving the (hypothetical) group of children a tour?
—Hey kiddo! Are you lost? —you began the conversation in a friendly tone before kneeling down a little in order to appear less imposing…after all he was a child you didn’t wanna scare him.
He looked at you so incredulously.
You could almost hear him think “ma’am wtf are you doing???” through his expressions.
—What’s your name?
—Ummm…uh…Robin?—He spoke like it was something obvious while signaling the “R” symbol on his chest.
—Robin, uh? What a pretty name! tell me Robin…why are you here? Are you lost?
Poor boy he was so confused, you didn’t know who he was? Didn’t any of the members told you about him? And more importantly…Why where you talking to him like if he was a 5-year-old?
—No, ma’am…I’m just waiting for Batman.
“Batman? Was he a fan of Batman of all superheroes?” It surprised you a bit, usually kids tend to like superman or wonder woman more since they are nicer and charismatic, and Batman was the opposite.
—Sorry Kiddo, I don’t think he’s one for photos, perhaps you could ask the others some other time! — you began explaining trying to dissuade the kid while guiding him towards the exit.
—He’s not here for photos—smooth as ever…the Bat was behind you.
—He’s my sidekick.
Your jaw dropped, a sidekick? He’s a CHILD! You knew superheroes had sidekicks, but you never knew they were that young!
Before you could even begin to protest, Batman ignored you, looking down at the child and instructing him to collect his things.
—Hurry, you’ll be late for class again. — He said before disappearing behind the door that led to his parking spot.
Robin quickly followed, hanging his backpack over his shoulder before stopping in his tracks directing an apologetic smile towards you and saying:
—Don’t worry miss, I can take care of myself! — He must have noticed the concern on your face before leaving.
Since that day your routine changed.
You would wake up earlier, many times you’ll be the first to arrive to the Hall of justice, and even have breakfast flying on your way there all for one thing: Robin.
Once you learned he was Batman’s sidekick you couldn’t help but worry over that poor child, “what if he gets hurt? Is he eating/sleeping/resting properly?” you just couldn’t help yourself.
At first it was just checking on the kid by just…seeing him in the morning and greeting him casually but there were times he wasn’t there, and you would panic internally and there was no other way to calm your anxiety until you would ask the Bat about the child.
He would always replay shortly: “He’s at home” “He’s at school” “He’s busy” and your conversations always would end there.
One day that Robin was there however, instead of your usual ‘greeting nod’ he started talking to you.
He asked you all sorts of things (that weren’t compromising to your real identity ofc) “What’s your favorite color?” “What music do you like?” “What’s your favorite movie?”
And it started from there.
The conversations with Robin grew not only more frequent but also more personal (as personal as someone with a superhero lifestyle can be), to the point it had become a routine for you to come early and talk to the boy, sometimes you had breakfast together or even helped him with his homework before the Bat would take him to school.
Perhaps it was because you didn’t have many acquittances here on earth, but Robin became family to you.
And family takes care of each other.
It had been a rather difficult and spontaneous mission; Lex Luthor was starting to act a little bit fishy (more than usual) using his connections and money Luthor had been acquiring/robbing very specifically concerning items all over the US, his next objectives: a Radion sample being investigated in a secret laboratory in Star city and a Dionesium sample...contained in the Wayne tower laboratories...
The team decided to split to put a stop to Luthor’s minions and his plan.
The Bat insisted the rest of the team should go to Star city, telling them that he and Robin could handle it, but everyone was immediately against it: Luthor had already collected relatively powerful items and being the intelligent motherfucker he is, probably transformed some of those items to give to his goon’s so they might have a chance in harming any of the members if they were to interfere.
Ultimately, the team agreed you and cyborg would accompany them to Wayne Tower.
Robin was stoked, he would get the opportunity to fight alongside you! But Batman…not so much…he kept trying to lose the two of you on the way there; fortunately, cyborg put a tracker on the batwing, he wasn’t going to get rid of you that easy.
Upon your arrival, you could spot several men (armed like if they were military but with a much more upgraded equipment) already leaving the building, carrying two tanks (presumably full of that substance Martian Manhunter had mentioned before) and heading to a truck without any plates.
Long story short: you organized a plan as quickly as you could but…something went wrong…Cyborg and Robin were supposed to create a distraction while the two of you recovered the tanks without damaging them, since the properties of the substance within remained unknown.
But something went wrong: You and Batman failed to coordinate and so you were spotted by the henchmen, they started aiming their weapons at the two of you, initially you thought a force field generated by the power of your ring would be enough...oh no, honey, you’re so wrong.
Sonic weapons were able to not only break your concentration quickly, but also made your ears bleed! One after another you kept re-making the fields, but the sonic waves so deathly and loud just kept coming.
You don’t know how but you were able to stand your ground long enough to make cover not only for Batman and allow him to get the tanks back safely but also for the rest of your team and give them a slight advantage to take down as many of Luthor’s minions as they could.
And then…you passed out.
You woke up at the infirmary in Justice Hall, your head a mess and wrapped in bandages, you had broken your arm because that shit inside a cast too for some reason…and…your ring was gone!
Panic!
No, never mind it was on the nightstand next to the chair in which batman was sitting on.
WAIT…next to the chair in which batman was sitting on?!?!?!
—How are you feeling? — you didn’t know if it was him suddenly talking or the genuine concern on his voice that startle you, so you just nodded slightly while he approached you.
—Can you hear me properly? —Surprisingly you could, but you still were a bit taken aback by his presence.
—I…—Before responding your brain reminded you of the fact that you didn’t had your ring on, hence your secret identity was revealed to Batman. Your hands practically flew to your face in embarrassment. You didn’t know why but without your mask you felt naked and vulnerable.
He noticed.
His gaze studying your pained expression before he let out a small sigh.
—I came here…to thank you…and apologize— hesitantly his hands moved to the back of his cowl.
—You not only put yourself in danger for Cyborg and Robin, but you also concerned yourself with my safety even when it was probably my fault that we ended up in that situation —He admitted pressing a hidden button loosing up his cowl before finally taking it off and reviling the most gorgeous man you’ve had ever lay your eyes on.
—And for that I thank you and apologize…sincerely—Such sudden action left you speechless for a while, Batman not only had thanked you and apologized, but he had entrusted his identity to you.
—I think-…I think we started with the wrong foot; you know? —You finally were able to respond, breaking the silence that filled the room and surprising him slightly by your sudden declaration.
—Let’s start again…Hi! I’m Y/N—You imitated the same friendly voice tone you first used to talk to him.
The lips on the man in front of you curved forming a subtle almost imperceptive grin.
—Hello, Y/N, I’m Bruce…Bruce Wayne.
♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤
WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! IT. TOOK. SO. LONG. Sorry :c
I had a bunch of ideas for this request but ended up going with this one since I wanted to expand on their beginning, I’m still trying to figure out a way to write Bruce and this was my first attempt, so…sorry if it was…bad :c I’ll try harder next time!!!
Any errors you might see, please let me know; English is not my first language so I’m trying to improve.
In the final scene I wanted Bruce to show he recognized the Reader as an equal so that’s why he took it off…still I felt like it could improve.
♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤
I will forever thank you if you go check out my other profile: @aileysmirnov where I post things about my OC: edits, one-shots, imagines, art, etc. If you like Greek mythology and the bat family maybe you would get to be a little bit fond of her as much as I am!
Anyway! Thank you for reading!
#batman x reader#batman hc#batman#batman imagine#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne#batfamily#green lantern#justice league#batfam#fanfic#batman fic#dick grayson#robin
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Reconnaissance
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Rating: Mature Characters: Sharon Carter (Marvel), Sam Wilson (Marvel), Arthur Parks Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Espionage Summary: Sam Wilson accompanies Sharon Carter on an undercover SHIELD mission.
Read on AO3 under the pseud rebeccavis or below.
Sam had offered to sleep on the floor. He said he was used to it from his days in the military, which Sharon understood; Steve had mentioned to her offhandedly before that his bed never felt quite right. However, on this occasion the bed was probably the safest place for both of them. As she had pointed out to Sam, they had a clear view of the window from there should they need it and, if anyone decided to check in on them, it would look a little strange for a doting wife to be alone in a king-size bed. Sam, after looking horrified by the notion of someone spying on him while he was asleep, eventually conceded.
“Sorry.” Sam’s whisper had been preceded by the sound of something soft hitting the floor. “Why do they give you so many dang pillows?”
Sharon chuckled. “I don’t know,” she admitted, “Rich people shit?”
Their backs were turned to each other and, even if they hadn’t been, Sharon doubted she’d be able to see much of anything in the darkness of their isolated cabin. She heard a soft rumble from next to her, though, and could see Sam smiling in her head. “Rich people shit,” he agreed.
Sharon supposed she was meant to go to sleep now. While she hadn’t served in the military, she’d had her fair share of sleeping in strange places as a SHIELD agent, many of which had been far less comfortable than where she was at the moment. Even so, this was maybe the first time she was worried about having trouble drifting off. Her mind was usually where she felt it should be: focused on the job and what steps she needed to take to ensure its success, including getting a good night’s sleep. Tonight, her mind was for some reason lingering on terms of endearment, unexpected compliments and arms wrapped tenderly around her waist.
She felt Sam’s weight shift slowly next to her and suspected he was turning over onto his other side. It was something she had been thinking about, too, although now it meant they’d be face to face, which would be weird. Or would it? She settled for rolling over onto her back instead to stare at the ceiling. Her eyes were starting to adjust to the darkness, and she could just about trace the outline of the wooden beams above her head.
“Hey, Shar?” Sam’s voice was soft, but so unexpected that she froze for a split second. “Can we talk?”
*
“Sam? Is my purse out there?” Sharon had raised her voice a little, hoping she’d be heard from outside the bathroom where she was putting on her makeup.
“Uh...yeah, I see it, baby,” she heard Sam reply, emphasizing his last word significantly more than was necessary, “Do you need it?”
“Oh, I think I left something in there, but I can…” Sharon trailed off as she heard footsteps in her direction and then a gentle rap on the door she hadn’t bothered to lock. “You can come in. I’m almost done.”
The door opened with a click and Sam stepped in, offering up a smile as his eyes met hers. She could tell there was a slight nervousness to his expression, at odds with how comfortably the bespoke dark suit he was wearing fit him.
“Almost, huh?” he said, his tone playful.
“Wouldn’t want to forget my lipstick,” Sharon explained, reaching over to take her small silver clutch from his hand, “Thanks.”
“Yeah, you’d look terrible without it,” Sam teased, to which Sharon chuckled.
Having reclaimed the missing item from her purse, Sharon turned back towards the mirror to apply the deep red shade to her lips. It reminded her of the colors her aunt had always been fond of wearing, perhaps even more so because, like her aunt once had, she was currently sporting brunette shoulder-length curls. Her dress, on the other hand - red, full-length, with a front slit and a mostly open back - was probably something Peggy would not have opted for unless she had also been undercover.
“Just to be clear - you look amazing, Shar.” She glanced over her shoulder at the sound of Sam’s words, then directed a grin at him.
“So we’re not going with ‘baby’?” she asked.
Sam’s brow furrowed. “Damn it.”
“It’s OK, you don’t have to worry. While you were out I put a bug killer in one of the lamps by the bed, so nobody’s listening in on us,” Sharon assured him as she turned around, “It’s good to get some practice, though.”
“I just thought ‘baby’ would be easier,” Sam explained, “I’m worried I’m going to forget to call you by your cover name.”
“‘Baby’ works great. I’ll go with it, too.” Sharon gave a nod to indicate she was ready to go, then emerged with Sam into the bedroom. “Look, I know this undercover stuff isn’t exactly your thing, but I promise you’re in safe hands,” she added, “Besides, it’s not like you have to put on a British accent or anything.”
“Thank God,” Sam noted, “I bet you can do a great British accent. You have family from there, right?”
“Yeah, that’s an easy one for me. My grandfather’s whole side of the family is British.”
“Did they teach you any fun British slang?”
“Plenty, but I’m pretty sure it’s all from the fifties so I’m totally out of date.” Sharon gave a small shrug of her shoulders. “You know my aunt used to call me ‘Shaz’ sometimes?”
“Shaz?” Sam echoed. His eyebrows raised as he shot an endearing glance at her, clearly entertained by the idea. “That’s amazing. Can I call you ‘Shaz’?”
“Absolutely not,” Sharon replied, though she kept her tone light.
“Noted. Although I make no promises after this mission is over and I’ve found the nearest place where I can get a daiquiri,” Sam noted, “You don’t have to join me, though.”
“Maybe I’d be OK with it under those circumstances,” Sharon conceded with a smile, “I do like ‘Shar’, though.”
Sam looked pleased with himself. He made his way over to the bed to pick up Sharon’s coat, which he offered to her. “Trust me, I’ve worked with you enough and heard enough to know I’m in the safest of hands,” he affirmed, “I just don’t want to get in your way. Do the photos look good?”
“Oh, yeah, they’re perfect. All you need to do is distract Parks and I know exactly where I need to go,” Sharon slipped her arms into the outstretched garment, shrugging it over her shoulders and gently tugging her hair out from underneath it. “Tell Redwing I said thanks.”
“I will,” Sam replied after a small pause, “So we’re in, we talk to the party guests for a bit, you go download the files, and we’re out. Pretty straightforward apart from the fact that our ride isn’t coming until tomorrow morning.”
“So unlike Maria to not come pick up her friends after a party, but what can you do?” Sharon joked, “I think we’ll be OK to spend the night in our luxury log cabin.”
“I can always take the floor,” Sam said.
“We can talk about that later. Let me give you your comm.” Sharon’s purse didn’t have room for much besides her lipstick and some cash, but the communication devices - one of which she handed to Sam - barely took up any space at all. “Is there anything else we need to go over?”
“I don’t think so. I’m glad we have these,” Sam admitted, then something seemed to occur to him, “Oh, I was going to ask you about ground rules. I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable, but I know we’re supposed to be married...I guess I don’t know how this usually works.”
“When we’re in the field pretending to be a couple we tend not to go overboard on public displays of affection unless the intention is to make someone else feel uncomfortable. Honestly, though, I wouldn’t worry too much about it. I trust you.” Sharon exchanged a small smile with him, and was glad to see he looked a little relieved.
“Alright, then, Mrs. Dixon. Let’s go.” Sam offered up his arm, which Sharon took as they made their way down the wooden staircase to the living room. “This is some really weird rich people shit, you know. What kind of person owns what looks like an English mansion in upstate New York and makes his friends hire out nearby log cabins with no cellphone service just to attend his party?”
Sharon laughed, partly because it sounded a lot like something Tony Stark might do. “I’m glad you got that off your chest,” she commented, “And you’re right. Unfortunately, tonight I think we’re going to have to deal with a lot of rich people shit.”
*
“Name?” The man at the entrance to the mansion was dressed as a butler and peering at Sam as if he was a curiosity, which gave Sharon a strong urge to kick him in the face with one of her high heels.
“Dixon. Sean Dixon,” Sam told him with a confidence that meant Sharon didn’t have to force a smile. She gave his arm an affectionate squeeze, having kept her own wrapped around it for most of the drive over.
“Ah, yes, and you must be the lovely Cherie Dixon.” The butler pronounced her name with a perfect French accent, so Sharon naturally had to correct him.
“Oh, it’s ‘Sherry’, but believe me, if I could say it your way I would,” she declared. The giggle she gave along with her words was fake but well-practiced, unlike the smile the butler gave her in return which was simply fake.
“If you would be so kind as to step into our testing area,” the butler instructed them.
Sharon gave a small nod which Sam mirrored, and the two of them made their way inside. Out of the corner of her eye, Sharon noticed that their ride - a chauffeured limousine that had been provided by the owner of the mansion - was still waiting in the extended driveway. She wondered what instructions the chauffeur had been given should she and/or Sam turn out to be mutants.
They had both been briefed early on that the party had a strict policy against mutants attending. It wasn’t a particularly new development; there were many, particularly those in power, who didn’t like that mutants could often hide in plain sight unlike most of the Avengers. What wasn’t clear, however, was how such policies were being enforced, and that was one of the things she and Sam had been tasked with finding out.
“Please give me your left index finger.” Sharon had been ushered along with Sam through the first door on the left, where a line of men and women dressed as old-fashioned footmen and maids were holding anachronistic devices that were roughly the same shape as a large calculator. She glanced at Sam, who just barely raised his eyebrows, then turned to the woman who had addressed her.
“Here you go,” she said, letting go of her companion’s arm to present her left hand to what she assumed was a lab technician-turned-maid. The woman clearly didn’t have much in the way of bedside manner, as she pricked Sharon’s finger with a needle without so much as a warning. She then instructed her to press the small drop of blood to a pad on the device she was holding, where a bright light shone behind Sharon’s finger before she received a reading.
“NO X-GENE DETECTED,” the screen flashed.
“Is that good?” Sharon asked, her eyes wide.
The woman who had tested her all but rolled her eyes. “Yeah. That’s good,” she said, then turning to Sam, “You’re up next.”
Sharon’s eyes darted around to the other would-be house staff while Sam was similarly tested for his lack of a mutant gene. The devices they were using were unfamiliar to her, and she could almost make out a logo on the back of them but not quite. For now, she just made a mental note to try to steal one of the devices before they left the mansion for the night.
“NO X-GENE DETECTED,” the screen flashed again, and Sam was also cleared to go out the door and back into the foyer.
“I feel like she drew way more blood than she needed to,” Sharon remarked, shaking her head. The needle prick didn’t really bother her at all and she’d had far worse injuries in the field, but Sam had been very quiet so far and it was starting to unnerve her how differently he was acting compared to his usual self. She hoped that she might be able to help him relax by drawing him into a conversation.
“Oh, yeah?” Sam’s response wasn’t very encouraging but he did offer her his hand, which she took.
“Maybe she was just jealous,” Sharon mused playfully. Sam had taken her hand in both of his and gently turned it over. “What are you doing?”
“Just surveying the damage,” Sam said with a hint of a smile, “You think she was jealous of your ring?”
Sharon had managed to almost forget about the 2 carat, heart-shaped engagement ring and matching wedding ring on her left finger. Sam clearly hadn’t, though, and she was glad he seemed to be settling into his role. “I think she was jealous of my gorgeous husband,” she replied, “You do look very good in that suit, baby.”
“Well, you look good in pretty much everything, baby,” Sam replied. Something about the way he was looking at her took Sharon off guard, and she was surprised to feel the back of her neck grow hot. Sam was apparently a better actor than she had given him credit for.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice coming out quieter than she intended at first. She cleared her throat and then added: “You’ve always known how to compliment a girl.”
“Isn’t that why you married me?” Sam teased. He let go of her hand and offered his arm to her again.
“One of many reasons,” Sharon replied with a grin. She accepted his offer and then nodded towards an open doorway that led into what appeared to be the living room. “Everyone seems to be heading in there and it looks like they have drinks, so I vote we go check my coat and then we follow,” she suggested.
“Lead the way, Cherie.” Sam managed a pretty decent impersonation of the butler from earlier, and Sharon laughed.
“Shut up.”
*
“Sher-ee.”
“Sher-ee,” Sharon repeated, butchering the French guttural ‘R’ sound as if she hadn’t had plenty of practice speaking French in her line of work.
“Eh, close enough.” The woman seated in a small, cream-colored armchair across from Sharon and Sam shrugged her shoulders with a smile, tossing her shoulder-length blonde bob. Sharon didn’t know too much about her yet but she did know that her name was Marie, she seemed to speak better French than Sharon did even when she wasn’t pretending, and - most importantly - she was their ticket to the person they were looking for. She seemed younger than Sharon, maybe twenty at most, and eager to make conversation. Sharon had spotted her chatting with the host of the party earlier, and all they needed to do now was get her to lead them to him.
“Didn’t you tell me your name means ‘darling’?” Sam asked, glancing at Sharon. They were sitting on a powder blue couch, his arm resting gently around her shoulders.
Sharon all but batted her eyelashes. “That’s what my mom always said.”
“Yes, she was correct,” Marie said enthusiastically, “From chérir, to cherish.”
“Like the Madonna song,” Sharon joked. Sam chuckled, but Marie’s blank expression suggested to Sharon she’d been right about the other woman’s age.
“Clearly your mother chose well,” Marie continued, “You make a wonderful couple.”
“Thank you. I feel like I can barely remember what life was like before Sean,” Sharon said, all smiles, “We’re a good team. He makes up for all the things I’m missing.”
“Come on, baby, there isn’t anything you’re missing,” Sam insisted.
“It’s OK, I know I’m not the smartest cookie in the cookie jar,” Sharon retorted, “But you, on the other hand...I’m telling you, Marie, you’re looking at the world’s next Tony Stark.”
“My wife likes to brag about me,” Sam told Marie, “I also love to hear it, though, so it all works out.”
“So you are interested in technology?” Marie asked.
“I’m working on starting up my own tech company,” Sam explained, “Cherie’s father is an investor and I’m looking for a few more.”
“In that case, you should definitely talk to Arthur if you haven’t yet. I know he’s always looking for new collaborators,” Marie said, “You know the mutant detectors that scanned your blood when you first arrived?”
“So that’s what they were?” Sharon mused out loud.
“Wait, did Parks provide the lasers they use in those?” Sam piped up.
Marie grinned. “Yes. He and Trask are hoping they’ll be able to make them available to the mass market soon.”
“That’s impressive,” Sam said with a nod, “Do you work with him?”
“Oh, no.” Despite Marie’s reply, Sharon could tell she was flattered by the notion that she might be involved in Arthur Parks’s company. Nice going, Sam. “I’ve just known him since I was very young. Arthur’s wife, Lucy, knew my father and when I was growing up he wasn’t around very much...the Parks practically raised me.”
“Well, clearly you’ve picked up a lot from them. I’m around Sean all the time and I still don’t really understand his work,” Sharon said with a laugh.
“I actually had been hoping to get a chance to talk to Mr. Parks. I’ve never met him directly but from talking to friends of his I really think we’d have a lot to offer each other,” Sam affirmed.
“Then allow me to introduce you,” Marie offered, “Trust me, it would be my pleasure.”
*
“Alright, Sam, I’m in the study. Clear your throat if our friend is suitably distracted.”
Sharon soon heard Sam’s subtle assurance over her comm, although she almost didn’t need it because she could also hear Arthur Parks droning on in the background. She felt relieved that she had only had to stand next to Sam and pretend to be interested in the man’s work for a relatively short time before, as she had expected him to, Parks had invited ‘Sean’ to join him and a couple of other men for a cigar. Sharon had then spent a few minutes in Marie’s company before excusing herself to use the powder room. Her companion had offered to go with her, but Sharon had managed to convince her that she needed some privacy when she implied that she might be taking a pregnancy test.
“I’ll be as fast as I can and keep you updated. Sorry this has to be a one-way conversation,” Sharon told Sam.
When she thought about it, there were quite a few things she felt as though she wanted to apologize to Sam for. This wasn’t supposed to be his mission in the first place, for one. The original plan had been for Steve to accompany her, until the discovery that more than a few guests at the party had ties to HYDRA had made it impossible for Steve to go incognito. Sam had the technical expertise to both help in the field and impress Parks, so he had been the natural choice. The world of espionage was far from Sam’s natural environment, though, and even though he’d been doing well so far, Sharon felt a sense of responsibility in making sure nothing happened to him. That feeling was coupled with a decent-sized amount of guilt that she would actually rather be on a mission with Sam than Steve at the moment.
“I’ve got to admit I’m a little envious of you, Dixon. It sounds like your story’s just starting and you have a world of opportunities ahead of you. I remember when it felt that way for me.”
Sharon rolled her eyes as she took her lipstick out of her purse and popped a concealed flash drive out of the bottom of it. She had little to no sympathy for the plight of someone like Arthur Parks.
“I do feel very lucky,” Sharon heard Sam’s voice say, “Now, don’t get me wrong, I’ve definitely had to hustle, but the hustle was worth it.”
“Hacking in now,” she informed Sam quietly, the flash drive now inserted into Parks’s personal laptop.
“Mmmm, and I’m sure having a rich wife can’t have hurt. I wasn’t so lucky.”
Arthur Parks’s use of the word ‘wasn’t’ gave Sharon pause. They hadn’t been given any intel on his marriage having recently fallen apart, although it was a little odd that his wife Lucy didn’t seem to be in attendance at the party.
“A word of advice, Dixon, although it’s probably too late,” Parks continued unprompted, “Always sign a prenup.”
Sam gave what sounded like a slightly nervous laugh. “I don’t think I need to worry about my wife.” Sharon was about to tell him not to be afraid to throw his wife under the metaphorical bus if he needed to, but a third person with an English accent spoke up before she had a chance.
“I think this one’s a lost cause, Arthur.” Sharon had heard the man introduce himself as Jonathan Wilson a little bit earlier. “You and your wife seem very much in love.”
“I really think it’d be hard not to fall in love with Cher,” Sam declared. Sharon noticed his ‘Cher’ sounded a little close to ‘Shar’, but hopefully nobody else would pick up on it. “I mean, you’ve all seen how beautiful she is but on top of that she’s so...brave, and talented, and just so competent…”
Sharon couldn’t help the smile that crossed her features for a moment, even if it quickly vanished as she realized she was listening to a bout of silence. Either something had gone wrong with the comms or Sam had paused awkwardly mid-sentence and although the latter was preferable, it still wasn’t ideal.
“...at making me happy, you know what I’m saying?” Sharon heard a few ripples of laughter following Sam’s joke, and she breathed an inaudible sigh of relief.
“Nice recovery,” she told him, “Alright, I’m in. Just keep doing your thing, but maybe don’t lean into the doting husband role too much. I don’t see so much as a picture of Athur’s wife in his study and it sounds like things got ugly.”
The conversation took more of a business slant again and Sharon was able to relax ever so slightly, continuing to listen while she went through the files on Arthur Parks’s laptop. She had always found it a little ironic that the objective of any given mission, like this, tended to be the easiest part. Getting in and getting out were usually the parts that you had to worry about.
“Looks like the intel we got was solid. Parks is definitely trying to build himself some kind of team, but I think SHIELD will have to dig deeper to find out what for,” Sharon informed Sam, “I’m copying the list of contacts and his correspondence. Lots of familiar names here, several associated with HYDRA...and Georges Batroc. Interesting.”
“Anyway, I’m sure you’re tired of listening to me by now. Maybe I can get my laptop and show you some photos of all the places Parks lasers have been used. Who knows, I might even give you some ideas about where they haven’t.”
Sharon stiffened as she glanced at the progress bar in the corner of the computer screen. “I’m not done,” she said after hearing Arthur Parks’s words, “Sam, can you stall him?”
“I...think I already have some ideas, actually,” Sharon heard Sam say, “Marie mentioned you were interested in music, and I…”
“Marie thinks she knows a lot more than she actually does,” Parks interrupted, “My wife is the music lover. Not that her taste in music is any good.”
“Marie’s just a kid,” Sam noted softly, “They always think they know a lot.”
“Not that much of a kid.” Arthur Parks’s voice was quieter than before and Sharon was having a hard time hearing him. “It’d be nice if she acted like more of an adult every once in a while.”
“Almost there,” Sharon said to Sam. Her fingers were hovering over the flash drive, ready to retrieve it the moment it was finished copying the files. “Just keep him talking.”
“Well, she has nothing but nice things to say about you and your wife, so it seems like you taught her something,” Sam said, managing to keep his tone jovial, “She said you practically raised her?”
“You seem to be very interested in Marie,” Parks commented. Sharon thought she might have heard the sound of a clinking glass. “Wilson?”
“Yeah?” Sam answered at the exact same time as another voice that Sharon presumed belonged to Jonathan Wilson did.
Shit. Sharon watched the progress bar creep towards the end far too slowly for her taste as Arthur Parks offered Jonathan Wilson a drink.
“Sorry. I thought you said Dixon,” Sam said sheepishly.
“Well, I was also going to ask you a different question,” Parks said, “You a Scotch drinker?”
“Sometimes,” Sam answered.
“Sometimes,” Parks echoed with a chuckle, “Where are you from again?”
“New York,” Sam replied, “City. The City. Harlem.” He clearly remembered his cover story but seemed to be having trouble keeping his nerves under control.
“Right, right.”
“Got it,” Sharon declared, “I’m going to close up here and I’ll come knock on the door looking for you.”
“There’s something about your accent, though…” she heard Parks muse while she stowed the flash drive away back in her lipstick tube, “Sometimes it sounds a little off to me.”
“I can’t pick up on anything...but then, I don’t suppose I’d be able to,” Jonathan Wilson commented with a chortle.
Sharon stood up after closing Parks’s laptop, making sure it looked just as it did when she had first found it. She felt as though she could practically hear Sam’s heart beating faster, or perhaps it was just her own. “Hey, don’t be afraid to change your backstory a little if you need to,” she encouraged him, “The easiest lies to tell are the ones with a bit of truth.”
“How did you know?” Sam said, feigning being impressed, “My dad is from Louisiana. I don’t even notice it most of the time but Cher tells me sometimes the occasional word slips out.”
Sharon smiled to herself. The door to the study was closed behind her and from there it was only a quick trip across the hallway to where she needed to be. Granted, it was quite a large hallway.
“I knew it,” Parks declared, “I’ve been to Louisiana a couple of times. New Orleans is a great…”
Sharon knocked loudly at the door. When Arthur Parks pulled it open, he was greeted with the sight of her with her hair slightly dishevelled and grinning from ear to ear.
“Can I help you, Mrs. Dixon?” he asked.
“I just thought I’d stop by to rescue my husband,” Sharon answered.
*
It was getting in and getting out that you had to worry about. Getting to the party had required a lot of planning, from SHIELD providing Sharon and Sam with aliases and a mission briefing to their conversations on the flight to New York. During that time they had also planned how they’d be getting out, but that plan hinged on everyone perceiving them as nothing more than party guests. To that end, what they couldn’t do was leave the party at the nearest opportunity. Rather than make more small talk, Sharon had suggested they head to the ballroom and she didn’t think she’d ever seen Sam look more relieved.
“So do you think I thoroughly destroyed your chances at entering into a business deal with Arthur Parks?” Sharon wondered playfully. She had to lean in close to him to be heard over the music, but that was easy to do when they were dancing.
“Oh, I think those chances are pretty much roadkill by now,” Sam replied, making her chuckle, “That’s alright. I think if I’d had to listen to him for another half hour I’d have lost my mind.”
“I wouldn’t blame you. It’s his loss, at any rate.”
“Sure is. For a successful businessman, he seems pretty good at losing things.” Sam lifted his arm and gently twirled her around while she barely hid a grin.
“You can spin me more than that,” she said, “I used to be a figure skater, you know.”
“Wait, really?” Sam closed the small distance between them as the song changed to one with a slower tempo, his hands coming to her waist.
“Oh, yeah. My mom taught me to ice skate when I was a kid,” Sharon explained, “Have you ever tried it?”
“No, I haven’t, but I always thought it looked fun,” Sam replied, “I guess it’s probably a bit like flying.”
“Well, I’ve never flown, but to me it feels a lot like flying.” Sharon let her arms rest around Sam’s shoulders almost without thinking about it. “I’m a little out of practice, but I still go sometimes. I’ll take you - maybe before rather than after we go to a bar for that daiquiri.”
Sam seemed to like that idea if his grin was any indication. “You’ve got yourself a deal.” He glanced over his shoulder momentarily and then leant in so that he could lower his voice even more, speaking softly close to her ear. “You just need to go on a few more ops with me if you ever want to try flying.”
Sharon was surprised not by Sam’s gesture but her own reaction to it. She’d seen him harmlessly flirt with other people before, especially Natasha, and she enjoyed flirting herself when the occasion called for it. The unusual part was feeling her neck grow hot and letting her gaze linger on his lips when he pulled back. “I’d like that,” she admitted, “You’re a good partner.”
Sam smiled again.
Sharon swiftly decided that she should keep talking, mostly because she wasn’t sure what she’d do if she didn’t. “Hopefully next time you’ll get to have a little more fun,” she told him.
“Hey, I’m having fun,” Sam insisted, to which Sharon raised her eyebrows. “I am now, at least.” Sharon laughed. “I do wish the music was a little better.”
“Mmm, some Marvin Gaye, maybe?” Sharon suggested.
“For starters,” Sam replied, a hint of suspicion in his smile.
“You know who probably would’ve picked better music?” Sharon said. She was struggling to keep a straight face before the punchline of her own joke, which she decided to attribute to a combination of both the high and relief from having completed a large part of their mission. “Arthur Parks’s wife,” she just about managed to get out before she burst into laughter, hiding her face in Sam’s shoulder. She heard him laughing as well, which only made it more difficult for her to compose herself, but at least she figured the other party guests wouldn’t think much of it.
“You’re a great partner,” Sam declared, then adding, “We’re good to stay here for the rest of the party, right?”
Sharon nodded, pressing her lips together to suppress any remnants of her giggles. “I did just tell you that I’m pregnant, after all.” Sam’s eyes widened almost comically for a moment before he seemed to remember the excuse Sharon had used to get rid of Marie.
“Of course,” Sam joined in, “We can name the kid Laser.”
Sharon had to cover her mouth with one of her hands to muffle a guffaw.
*
“Hey, Shar? Can we talk?”
Somehow, Sharon had a feeling Sam didn’t want to talk about the mission, which had gone remarkably smoothly, all things considered. The intel they needed was stored on the flash drive in Sharon’s purse, which was sitting on the nightstand next to something else they had also managed to bring back. Just before they left the mansion, they had returned to the testing room with an excuse about Sharon having misplaced her wedding ring. While Sam distracted the woman who had tested Sharon earlier, Sharon had managed to grab one of the mutant detectors and the staff seemed none the wiser. The only real concern now was the fact that they had to spend the rest of the night in their cabin, which meant if Arthur Parks or anyone else did suspect them, they would know where to find them. Sam was aware of all of that, though, and she would be very surprised if he wanted to go over what to do if they caught a glimpse of someone staring at them through the window.
“Sure,” she replied, her eyes still on the ceiling. She let out a small exhale before she rolled over onto her side to face Sam, barely able to make out his expression in the darkness. “Is everything OK?”
“Yeah. I just...I’m not even sure I should be saying anything, but...y’know, aside from almost forgetting New York was both a state and a city and being called ‘entertaining’ by some weird British folks, I actually had a really good time tonight.”
Sharon couldn’t help a small smile. “I kind of meant it when I told Marie we made a good team.”
“Did you mean it when you said we should go ice skating and then for drinks?” That question caught Sharon off guard, particularly in how hopeful Sam sounded when he said it. “It’s OK if you didn’t,” he added quickly, before she had a chance to respond, “We’ve known each other for a while, but we’ve never…” Sam paused. “Tonight, when we were dancing, I just felt like…”
“I felt it, too,” Sharon said quietly.
“OK.” She was starting to be able to see his face better as her eyes continued to adjust to the light, and she realized a smile was slowly spreading across it. “OK,” he repeated with a nod, “I’m kind of getting the feeling there’s a ‘but’ coming, though.”
“There’s a ‘but’,” Sharon admitted. His delight at the notion that they both felt similarly was already making her reconsider what she was about to say, but she wanted to be honest with him. “I’m not ready, Sam.”
“Ah. There it is,” Sam said. His grin vanished, as she expected, and he gave a small nod. “I understand. You did break up with Captain America. That had to have been pretty crazy.”
“Or, as my extended family likes to tell me, I’m the crazy one.” Sharon flashed a humorless smile. “I don’t...I’m not in love with Steve anymore, but that breakup wasn’t easy. It wasn’t even anyone’s fault, really, it was just...well, I’m sure the last thing you want to hear is gossip about your best friend.”
“I did just kind of admit to having a crush on my best friend’s ex-girlfriend, though,” Sam noted.
“I guess you did.” Sharon’s smile was genuine this time. “God, I wish we’d figured this out sooner.”
“I’ll take some of the blame for that. I was too busy staring at redheads.”
“And I was too busy thinking if I stuck around long enough Steve might fall in love with me.”
“Shar…” Sam’s voice was soft, and Sharon suddenly felt like she might have said too much.
“If you were just a hot stranger this would be a whole lot easier,” she joked, trying to lighten the mood.
“I’ll take that as a compliment, I think,” Sam teased back, “It’s OK, Sharon. Sometimes the timing just isn’t right.”
“I just meant that if it was someone I didn’t really care about, maybe I’d go on a date or two and it wouldn’t end well but it wouldn’t be a big deal. If it was you, though...I wouldn’t want to mess it up.”
“If it was you, I wouldn’t want to mess it up, either.” Sharon’s breath caught in her throat. “Can I...can I ask you a favor, though? If you do feel like you’re ready someday, and assuming you haven’t met anyone even hotter, can you let me know?”
“What if you’re dating Natasha Romanoff by then?” Sharon asked, not entirely unseriously.
“In that case I would like everyone to please give us as much privacy as possible,” Sam replied with a smirk.
“Wow, OK. She’s really your type?”
“Are you jealous, Shaz?”
Sharon couldn’t help but laugh. “Maybe a little. Is that OK?”
“Yeah. That’s OK.” Sam’s eyes had what could only be described as a twinkle in them. “You still haven’t answered me.”
“You’ll be the first to know.”
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Hullo, Sam. Sorry to keep bothering you, but I am so excited to hear you will take the time to answer my questions. I have more.
I am only about to start chapter 7 of Kalopsia, but can you please answer these ones?
1) Do you really think that’s why Fred and George gave the map to Harry over Ron, because he needed it more?
2) George tells Ginny that Harry needs constant validation, I’m not sure what you mean. Like does he want people to tell him they love him a lot?
3) Did you research real medicine and drugs to explain the potions? It was so detailed.
4) How do you choose such unique names for your stories? Kalopsia? Brio? And the others?
5) Why did you choose Malefic? Is it because it sounds ominious like Maleficent the evil queen?
6) Have you invented many places for your universe? How did you come up with the idea for Apricity Lane and Malefic Way?
7) Do you think that even after all these years (in Kalopsia) with three kids that Harry still believes he doesn’t deserve to be happy? Did the Dursleys mess him up that much?
8) Otis Maverick? Democritus Day? How did you come up with these names?
9) What inspired you to invent a crime show? Forensics, Bones, and Brains of Darkness is an interesting title. Is it a talkshow?
10) The Sky Mirror and walking into a storm is the coolest thing I have read! How did you come up with it? Why did you make that the entrance to Malefic Way? Where is it located in England and why did you choose that spot?
11) What inspired you to have Harry trapped in an alternate reality with potions? It reminds me of an old Supernatural episode.
12) Ron making plans to rescue Harry when he leaves the hospital is a cool thought. I like how you write Ron as being this cool Auror. What made you decide to keep him as an Auror? Do you think Ron is a better Auror than Harry or Harry better than Ron? Or is it more about their teamwork? I think it was Demelza who mentioned before they have the best solve rate in the department. Can you elaborate more on that?
Thank you.
1. I do think Fred and George gave Harry the map over Ron because he did need it more… they wanted Harry to know Harry was as much of a brother to them as Ron was and they wanted him to be happy. They thought the map would bring him some happiness.
2. Harry was never loved as a child. Harry doesn’t express his feelings well. George believes (and he’s right in this assumption) that telling Harry that he’s his brother, that he loves him, that he’s family is good for Harry because Harry often forgets it. Harry was so emotionally abused as a child that he needs reminding that he’s loved and he’s a part of a family or else he can kind of shut down and shut out the people around him. George always makes sure that Harry never doubts his place in the Weasley family for a second.
3. Yes, I did a lot of research into illicit drugs and medicine to craft this story.
4. I like looking up unique words and using those words to name stories and places or things within my stories. Like Kalopsia is an Ancient Greek word that means the delusion of things being more beautiful than they are. Brio means vigor or vivacity of style or performance.
5. Malefic means causing or capable of causing harm or destruction, especially by supernatural means. So Maleficent, if I had to wager a guess, derived from malefic. I liked the name so I named the village named it Malefic Way.
6. Apricity Lane and Malefic Way were the only two wizarding villages I’ve created so far. I didn’t want everything to be Diagonal Alley or Knockturn Alley. I wanted to explore new and different places. That’s why I made Apricity Lane an upscale and posh wizarding village and Malefic Way a more gritty and dark village.
7. Yes, I think Harry suffers a lot from the Dursleys’ abuse and neglect. That kind of upbringing just doesn’t go away. There’s a lot of emotional baggage that you carry your entire life with you. He has a lot of self-worth problems, problems talking about his feelings, problems with perception and over analyzing what people say/do.
8. Otis Mavericks I made up after looking over some popular British names and surnames and thought they went together. Democritus Day was actually named by @breaniebree
9. So, I wanted to expand upon wizarding media. So, Forensics, Bones, and Brains of Darkness (named by the brilliant @breaniebree ) is essentially like a real crime show that takes cases and then goes over them in-depth with experts and hired actors to recreate some of the moments from the crime.
10. So the Sky Mirror is a real thing in Nottingham. I was looking up different fun England landmarks and saw the Sky Mirror. I thought about having to stare into the mirror and step through it to enter Malefic Way. I’m pretty sure @breaniebree added the storm clouds to it.
11. The Supernatural episode. I thought it would be intriguing to do my own spin on it except I didn’t want a Djinn and then had to come up with why a wizard would realistically do such a thing and I invented Zephyr.
12. I wanted to keep Ron an Auror because I wanted to write stories where Ron and Harry continued to be partners. I love them together and couldn’t imagine not writing them as partners and making up some OC to be Harry’s partner. I don’t think Ron is better than Harry or Harry better than Ron. They both excel in different areas of the job. Harry has good instincts and can work out a case in his head. Ron has really good people skills and he is good at helping Harry work out his instincts into facts.
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My yearly list of Eurovision songs after the first impression (I mean, for like, half of them. I heard snippets of some songs.). Judged on music videos, because...if I only listen to the songs on Spotify, my eyes get bored. :’)
(oh, and don’t talk to me about iceland’s placement, I know this might be unpopular)
X. Belarus
Fuck Belarus, all my homies hate Belarus. Not even going to grace them with a rating.
Norway (TIX – Fallen Angel)
...no. :( And it’s not even because Keiino didn’t win, I just wholeheartetly hate this song. And I’m kinda sorry to TIX, because he seems like a cool dude and his stage outfit is absolutely hilarious, but oh my god do I hate this song with an absolute burning passion.
Poland (RAFAL – The Ride)
eye emoji mouth emoji eye emoji – well, this is a non-qualifier if I’ve ever seen one. Can we just...skip this?
Belgium (Hooverphonic – The Wrong Place)
Nap time! This song annoys me. I cannot explain it, but it gives me a headache and my whole body is revolting against this song. I am not kidding. Objectively, I don’t even hate it, but there’s just something about it...that makes me go...hnghgng…
North Macedonia (Vasil – Here I Stand)
eye emoji mouth emoji eye emoji ver. 2 – I am not trying to sound mean, but does North Macedonia do any music that is not dramatic power ballads? I’m serious. (And I don’t like it, sorry. :((...except for the high notes, I like them. When he can hit them live.)
Estonia (Uku Suviste – The Lucky One)
This (the music video)...is soft porn. I am slightly scared of Uku. I don’t know why. But, uh...this is better than last year’s song? Still, it wouldn’t qualify under my watch, whoops.
Georgia (Tornike Kipiani – You)
He stopped yelling angrily at the microphone. :((( Nah, but this isn’t my thing. It’s great that they are doing their own thing, it’s just not really my thing...it also reminds me of a song I know, damn.
Austria (Vincent Bueno - Amen)
He looks like a german youtuber. I don’t know hich one, but he looks like one. I also canot tell if he’s 18 or 38, lol. (For some reason he also reminds me of Alex Albon, which is even weirder.)...oh, uh, the song? Idk, I don’t care for I. It’s fine.
Spain (Blas Cantó – Voy A Querdarme)
Confession: I’m probably the only person who actually doesn’t like the sound of Spanish all that much. Whoops. Apart from that though, I’m not the biggest fan of this song. Can’t really say more about that. Meh.
The Netherlands (Jeangu Macrooy – Birth Of A New Age)
Listen: I really like the tone of this voice. It’s great. I am not a fan of the song. There’s something just very off about the loud percussions (?) in the background that make me go absolutely crazy when listening to this. My sensory-overload-prone ears hate it, and I’m sorry...the part before the last chorus on the other hand I love. The whole song could have sounded like that and I would have loved it. (...and I can’t unhear “You are my broccoli – You know my broccoli!” ;-;)
Azerbaijan (Efendi – Mata Hari) Whenever I see Efendi, my brain still goes “Cleopatrrrrra!”, oof. This song sounds like a song I know. Which...is super unprecice, but I genuinely don’t know which one. I do like that they kept the weird pre-chorus thing from Cleopatra (and reference the song later on), but I must say that I liked Cleopatra more...but it’s a party song, so I think it will be fun on stage!
Romania (ROXEN - Amnesia)
I didn’t like her song last year, I don’t enjoy this all too much and I’m kinda sorry but also...I don’t want to apologize for my taste in music, lmao. I want her hair though. Give me her hair.
Denkmark (Fyr & Flamme – Ove Os Pa Hinanden)
Ring ding ding, native language bonus. This is also way more fun than I thought it would be, hah. VERY retro, but I don’t hate that? :D (this and sweden really aren’t any different in terms of how much I like them)
Portugal (The Black Mama – Love Is On My Side)
I can appreciate this. I just wish it was in Portuguese, honestly. I don’t really know if I like the English for this song. That being said, I don’t know if you can make these very specific tones (you know what I mean) in portuguese without it sounding super off, so…
Ireland (Lesley Roy – Maps)
Okay, you do you Ireland. :D
Israel (Eden Alene – Set Me Free)
This exists. :D
Cyprus (Elena Tsagrinou – El Diablo)
Cyprus came to party, and I can’t be mad at that. I just don’t know why everybody in the YouTube comments loves this SO MUCH that they are sure that it will win if it gets the jury votes. I don’t think it’s as good as Fuego or She Got Me were, but maybe I just have no taste in party music. I don’t party. (Only if you got a 2000s playlist and some iced tea.)
France (Barbara Pravi – Voilà)
FRANCE sending a BALLAD? In MY Eurovision? It’s more likely than you think. It’s good, objectively. Personally, I don’t really care for it all that much and feel like I already know it.
United Kingdom (Embers – James Newman)
A good, modern song? In my british eurovision song? What happened on the Isles over quarantine? Are you guys okay? Did you find yourself? Have you taken your last breath (breath!) and looked at your past results? I’m impressed enough to put this relatively high, wow.
Serbia (Hurricane – LOCO LOCO)
*adore delano voice* party! Oh, and native language bonus...for a party song! I’m...impressed, actually. I cannot decide wheter I prefer this or Hasta La Vista, but I think it’s this one? The flows smoother, if that means literally anything.
Bulgaria (VICTORIA – Growing Up Is Getting Old)
*shrugs* I think a lot of people will like this. And I get that. I think I even understand it...yeah. I didn’t like her song last year either. It’s just personal preference, I think. I just want to have fun during Eurovision, hah.
Finland (Blind Channel – Dark Side)
Finland: FUCK YOU!!! Germany: Fuck you. <3
That’s all I’ll say, we know how the Finnish are, this is not surprising, lmao. (And I’m one of those children that grew up on Rammstein, so I legally cannot dislike this.)
Croatia (Albina - Tick-Tock)
Tick-tock, can you hear me go tick-tock? My heart is like a clock, I'm steady like a rock-...oh wait, wrong tick-tock! Still, really enjoy this song’s chorus – I actually enjoy it so much that it makes up for the utter loss of interest I experience once it’s over, chrm.
Sweden (Tusse – Voices)
I mean...let’s be honest, it’s a generic swedish pop song. It sounds like every other Swedish entry, and I think that bothers me. I know, that sounds kind of...weird, looking at my choices higher up in the list, but...meh. I think this will easily qualify for the Final and place high, and I am totally okay with that. It’s just not...what I wanted, I guess? :D (and i’m sorry but as a german-speaker I cannot get over the name “tusse”) (oh, and tusse seems to be super cool)
Albania (Anxhela Peristeri - Karma)
Oh, we’re going to war in 130 A.D.? Fine, let me just pack my spear and- oh, Albania has already sent a singer? Ah, well, might as well give up and just vibe.
Czech Republic (Benny Cristo - omaga)
This sounds fun. Not a winner or anything, but fun. I’ll probably still be on Twitter when he’s performing, whoops.
Slovenia (Ana Sklic - Amen)
Wait, there’s TWO songs called Amen? And why do I actually kinda like this? Oh well, might as well just accept it. (Her voice though...mhmmhmhm…yes please)
Iceland (Dadi og Gagnamagnid – 10 Years)
We just vibin’. I liked Think About Things more, but I’m very much biased here...because I’ve known that song for a year now. But this is still very good, and very on brand. (And I understand like...half of the lyrics, but I am okay with that.)
Australia (Montaigne - Technicolour)
not australia flexing at all of europe that they can hold big gatherings! D: oh, but I like this way more than last years song. I feel like Montaigne can show her GREAT voice way better in this song. (Even though her outfit and the sound of the song reminds me of the UK song that had...a dude run on the stage. I can’t think of the word for it right now.)
Malta (Destiny – Je Me Casse)
Destiny’s voice is just….wow. This is very different than All My Love, but it’s fun. The topic of the lyrics kinda remind me of Toy, and I like that…..I don’t really like the music video (especially the dancers in the colorful dresses? idk), but I’ll just ignore that.
Germany (I Don’t Feel Hate - Germany)
Confession time: I actually actively enjoy this song. Everybod is shitting on it, but it’s FUN and it has a good message, and Jendrik seems like the nicest dude ever and...it doesn’t deserve all the hate it’s getting? It’s completely self-produced and just fun. Stop being mean. :(
(...also someone on youtube said “pewdiepie” and I can’t unsee that now so fuck you >:((...no, no I don’t feel hate, just rethink your life choices)
Moldova (Natalia Gordienko - SUGAR)
What in the “Eis.de ist in der Kiste” is this music video? And I thought I would absolutely hate this song, but I actually don’t mind it all that much. It’s actually fun. Oh no, I’m splipping, someone catch me, aaaaaahhhhh….(and that poor cake dude. Is this song about cannibalism? Does she want to eat him?)
San Marino (Senhit – Adrenalina)
Catch me hum the chorus of this song at least once a day...but honestly, without any malicious intent: what the actual FUCK san marino? This is so much better than Freaky, and even though I do not believe for one second that this will win, the simple outragiousness of bringing Flo Rida to Eurovision deserves attention. (Bringing someone like Flo Rida to ESC sounds more like Scandinavia/Bulgaria, doesn’t it?)
Russia (Manizha – Russian Woman)
Not gonna lie, I miss Little Big, but at least they are sending something that’s at least as weird. I love that. Russian Rap is cool as fuck anyway, so I’m fully here for this...but I’m glas this song doesn’t have a music video, this just has to be a live performance. (Oh, and another strong woman!)
Ukraine (Go_A – SHUM)
I’m SO glad Go_A are back. But, let me be completely honest: I know why they had to change the lyrics, but I still liked the first version better. BUT I feel like the new one will grow and me and it will climb one or two places, because the Instrumental just slaps SO HARD. (Makes me feel like putting on a Cybergoth outfit and start dancing at a German industrial park, lmao.)
Latvia (Samanta Tina – The Moon Is Rising)
Does this count as my guilty pleasure this year? I loved her song last year, and this sounds similar, so...I like this too. It sounds modern as fuck (well, for Europe, you know) and I can definitely...”vibe” with that. I genuinely really enjoy this, and I don’t know why. (Even though I prefer last years drop.) A lot of “strong, independent women”-songs this year, and I’m not complaining.
Switzerland (Gjon’s Tears – Tout l’Univers)
Just so we’re clear, this and Italy share the exact same spot. I just cannot compare them at all. Gjon’s voice just takes me hostage throughout this whole song and won’t let me go. And everything that isn’t english/is in the countries offical language immediately gets plus points from me. As if this song needed them anyway.
Lithuania (The Roop – Discoteque)
Aaaaaand...dance break! Good, I just love them so much, it’s not even funny anymore. And I’ve been singing this song randomly since it came out. I can’t stop. It has burned itself into my brain. Let’s dis-co-teque right at my home! *waves arms around with no sign of coordination*
(and does anyone else feel like he’s serhat, just with a different alignment? Like, they are both chaotic, but serhat is chaotic neutral and he’s either chaotic good or chaotic bad, it really depends on the way he looks at the camera)
Italy (Maneskin – Zitti E Buoni)
Italy delivers, as they do every year. Not only do I really like this song (it is very much my genre), THIS is an aesthetic I can get behind! Knowing Eurovision, I doubt it will win, but damn if it won’t be super fun! (I am so glad this won Sanremo, hah.)
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jiāoqiǎnyánshēn (Ahkmenrah x Reader)
Description: jiāoqiǎnyánshēn (chinese, v.) - to have a deep and intimate conversation with a stranger.
Notes: for @hideamnos! a bit longer than my last couple of fics so I hope you don’t mind. the strange city happenings are all things I’ve seen in San Fran. As always, gender neutral. Word Count: 2.6k
Rain falls down from the sky in great sheets, battering down at your umbrella so harshly that you have to tuck it away to avoid flying off. Wind whips at your hair, biting at your exposed skin, pushing you to seek some sort of shelter, any shelter, from the fall-winter weather.
Nowhere is open. It has to be around midnight – you can't be bothered to check your phone, considering the last time you used it it was on 5% battery. The only light you can really see is the one near the train station, and with that singular sliver of hope, you run off in that direction. With the wind at your back, something finally goes right for you.
In the fluorescent light another man sits, skin that you assumed would've been dark in any other light paled in the station lights. The dull buzzing you usually hear is gone, beaten out by the rain, pounding harsh against the flimsy rooftop. With shaking hands you sit on the bench, curling up into a ball as though that would keep you warmer.
You won't deny that New York City has some strange folks – it's much like that in many other cities, though New York has to be the worst case you've seen of it. There was one point where a long line of monks, numbering somewhere into the fifties, walked down the sidewalk chanting some language you couldn't understand. This one can't be the strangest occurrence, though it is a little peculiar. His clothes are too nice to be a costume but it can't be anything else; a man wearing ancient Egyptian garb, donned entirely in gold and bearing a crown that looked far too heavy for his head. He's standing, carrying a tablet at his side as he stares off into the ink black of the city's night.
When it begins to hail he looks up at the sky, a calmness in his movement that you hardly ever see. Turning back down to the ground, he steps further inside the safety of the train stop, sitting down on the bench beside you.
"Come here often?" He asks in a humorous tone, a British accent shocking you mildly. With a chuckle and a wide smile, you shake your head, mumbling a small 'no.'
When he turns to once again stare at the empty railroad tracks, you let yourself examine him, his bone structure, the way his skin rests on his face – all very middle eastern, probably Arabic or Egyptian, or a mix of the two. It's becoming a bad habit at this point, staring at people's facial structure. Despite the fact that it'd probably make people uncomfortable if they knew you were doing it, it's good practice for you, what with your attempts to become a forensic pathologist. He's pretty, you note that as well – soft skin, sharp jawline, sweet eyes, pink lips – all leading to you blushing and looking away when he notices your stare.
"You're curious, aren't you?" He says in a quiet voice, but you can tell he doesn't mind your intrigue in him.
"Well... yes, but I'm used to not figuring out why people do strange things," you say, recalling the fifty monks and the one woman wearing only dog leashes as clothes. Your comment earns you a tiny smile from him.
"My name is.. Ahk," he says, removing his hand from the many folds of his clothes, holding it out for you to shake. You do so, noting nice fingernails and a firm grip.
"I'm (Y/N)," you respond, releasing his hand.
"I'm from the Natural History Museum, here in New York. The Egyptian exhibit," he says, and for a moment you wonder what the hell he's talking about, before remembering they created a new exhibit recently. Some sort of attempt to 'bring history to life' by hiring actors.
"Oh, you're the actor playing that boy king," you say in recognition, secretly proud that you remembered that.
"He's... he's not really a boy," he laughs sweet, a wide grin and crinkles around the eye – you can't help but continue noting how handsome this man is.
"How old is he then?" You ask, scooting closer in a fashion that made sure he wouldn't recognize what you were doing. This was too good of a chance to lose so suddenly.
"I – um, he died when he was around seventeen," he stutters out, blushing when you both know that's still a very young age for a king. "But – but he would've... grown up."
"All of us would've grown up. Doesn't mean that fellow is 4,000 years old now," you snort.
"Yeah..." he chuckles nervously, "right."
"Are you interested in Egypt or.. is it more of just a job for you? It seems interesting nonetheless," you say, leaning in. Stories have always been a staple of your life, the woes people go through and the accomplishments of humanity – everyone has something interesting about them.
"I'm actually from Egypt," he says, confirming what you'd deduced earlier. "It's a bit like returning to my childhood. I.. um, I lost my parents at a pretty early age, so it's a little difficult sometimes, since my job sort of.. reminds me of that part of myself, but um – I, uh, I still enjoy it."
"I understand. I lost my father recently," you say in a soft voice, your gaze drifting to the hail covered cement as you recall your father. He'd always been much nicer and closer to you than your mother. "It must be difficult. It's great that you've been able to enjoy yourself, though. When did you leave Egypt?"
"... in my twenties," he says after blipping out for a moment, which only makes your sentiment for him warmer – maybe you have a thing for airheads. "I left to go to Cambridge."
"Really? Wow, that's a nice school," you say with a sigh, already shuddering just imagining how expensive it had to be. Not even factoring in the fact that University in itself can be expensive, Ahk is Egyptian and had to be a foreign exchange student, which only ups the price.
"Yeah, I had a mildly pleasant time there," he chuckles, and you laugh as well – you wonder for a moment if you could manage to get his number.
"Here's another question for you, if you don't mind my asking," you say before being promptly interrupted by him.
"Only if I can ask you a question after."
With a sheepish smile you nod, realizing you've been bombarding him with question after question, and leaving him little time to figure out anything about you. He adjusts himself in his seat, and waits patiently for your query.
"Why are you at a train station in the middle of the night wearing your work clothes?"
"I could ask you the same thing," he laughs, but proceeds to answer anyway. "A couple friends and I went out for fun since we weren't actually working, we, uh, we don't work on Tuesdays and weekends, but we do rehearsals and such on Tuesdays so it's... technically work? Anyway, we went out, had some fun, caused several statues to come to life and then we got separated because they got arrested for disturbing the peace, but I managed to escape, ever the lucky one –" you laugh when he says that as though it's a monumental accomplishment, "but I need to get back to the Museum before dawn.. my clothes, and all that. I don't have an automobile, so... train."
"Sounds like a hell of an evening," you say with a laugh, wondering what other hectic things this man could be up to.
He proceeds to ask you the same question, 'what are you doing at a train station at midnight,' but it doesn't process in your head when you realize he said he caused several statues to come to life. He had to be joking, but he didn't mention it, which he definitely should've since it's a very confusing and worrying statement to make.
"(Y/N)? Are you alright?"
"Hm? Oh, sorry," you rush out, registering he's been waving his hand in front of your face. He backs away when you finally react, though he continues to look worried, and asks you if you're alright. "I'm fine, I just.. remembered I haven't had dinner and I need to plan that when I get home."
"Oh, that's not good. Definitely eat something. But, uh, as I was saying..." you perk up again, "what are you doing here?"
"That's – that's a funny story, actually. I was off at an art exhibit, or at least I was planning on going to it, and it was a pretty late night one," you look down at your phone, which is now dead, "it was supposed to go till around 1 AM, not sure what time it is now but – I was, I was stopped at the door because, as it turns out, I had the wrong address. I didn't know that at the time, though, so I kept insisting I wanted to go inside. I sort of thought they might've been discriminating against me but I digress. I finally got inside, turns out I actually was at the wrong place. I'm honestly not sure what kind of party I walked into, but it was.. really odd. Decided to stay because it began to rain, but then somebody started stripping and so did everyone else and I decided it was time to get out, as many people would decide. I left the building incredibly disoriented and a little drunk, got a bit lost, and then the rain picked up and I couldn't see a thing. Eventually found my way here."
"That sounds a lot more exciting than my evening," he says after giving your spiel a moment to set in.
"Yes, well, at least no one got arrested. To my knowledge."
"Right," he laughs, looking down at the floor when you meet his eye. As his laughter fades he tucks in his lip, biting and discreetly rolling his tongue over the top lip, making your heart stutter in your chest.
"Hey, do you know where we are? I might be able to drive you back to the museum," you offer, something you can immediately tell was the right move to make. He sits up a little straighter, a spark of hope in his eye.
"Would you do that? That'd be wonderful, really. I'll die if I don't get back in time," he says with wide eyes, turning to you like you've just become best friends. You giggle and nod your head, thinking about the many strange things this man has said, and wondering if he has always been so different from others.
Unfortunately, neither you nor Ahk have much of an idea as to where you are, so you turn to the maps. Two of them sit on either side of the small rest area, illuminated by the pale light and protected behind glass. There's a marker telling you where you are, and while Ahk is absolutely horrible at reading the map, you manage to pinpoint where you stand.
"It's a good thing you're smarter than I am," he comments as the two of you head off, trying your best to stay out of the hail.
"I don't think I am. I think I've just lived here a while," you say, ducking beneath the overhang of a building roof. "You start to recognize patterns and such the longer you stare at things."
"Yes, I've..." he looks to you as though you're suddenly precious, "I've noticed. I used to look at the stars quite a bit when I was younger."
After going through both sopping rain and biting hail, the two of you are exhausted by the time you reach your car. You hadn't driven it to the function (it would've been much easier to find had you done that, but you didn't) and you hadn't left it at home either, but you distinctly remembered leaving it in an underground parking lot. The reasons as to your decision to leave it there are unimportant, and Ahk does not ask. Painted an alarming shade of red, your car was a gift from an eccentric aunt, and though it's tight to fit more than two people in there, the two of you manage.
Throughout the evening you've noticed things that are 'off' about him – the way he tells stories, how he recalls memories, his choice of words, his life in general, but sitting in the car with him has to be the strangest thing that's happened to you. It doesn't feel as though he's ever even been in a car, mesmerized by the blinking lights and the soft radio that comes from the surround sound system you have. So it's a fact in your mind – there's something about him that isn't entirely true, that isn't wholly normal, and the idea excites you just as much as it terrifies you. Maybe he's a prince. Maybe he's a murderer. You don't know, but he keeps up the happy energy that seems ever present in his company all throughout the ride.
Large lights dug into the ground shine bright onto the front of the museum, showing off the pillars and carvings and, of course, the ever-changing advertisement posters. The hail has lightened back into rain, though it's still freezing and biting when you walk him up the entrance. Your legs slow in the cold, sore to move and making your whole journey up the many steps just a little more difficult, but Ahk doesn't seem bothered by it. It's another thing that strikes you as unusual – he hasn't complained of the cold, or shown any of its effects at any point. His clothes only add to your confusion, as they're definitely suited towards warm, Egyptian weather, not hail and sleet.
"I want to thank you again for driving me here. I am indebted to you," he says with a small bow once the two of you are safe underneath the portico. Inside, all the lights are on, and it looks as though most of the actors inside are still in their costumes.
"It's not a big deal," you insist. "I'm happy to help."
"Still, you're very kind," he says, taking your hands in his, a sincere smile on his face.
"I, uh –" you stammer, blushing from the contact. "I enjoyed our conversations. Is... do you, um... is there any way I can, uh, contact you?"
He halts, and for a moment you think you misread the signals – maybe he isn't as interested in you as you thought, and the idea of that alone puts an anchor in your chest.
"I don't have any phones," he says, a sentence that sounds wrong but is technically correct, "but I'm here pretty much every night. I'm very dedicated to my job." He winks, and you can't help but smile.
"Then I hope I'll see you again, Ahk," you say softly, biting at your lip as your nervousness begins to get at you.
"I hope to see you again as well."
With that he leaves you starstruck, already dreaming of when you'll see him again.
#ahkmenrah x reader#Ahkmenrah#Night at the Museum#ahkmenrah x female reader#ahkmenrah x male reader#gender neutral reader#rami malek#rami malek character
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It’s the post everyone’s been waiting for!
It’s taken a little while for me to get around to this, but it’s worth it for being able to make a full reaction post. This is really long so I’ll put it under a cut, but check it out for my complete scene-by-scene reaction of Miraculous’ “Felix” episode! (´∀`)♡
Okay, I’ve been putting this off for days now so it’s time to finally get to it. I’m comfy and undisturbed and have my supplies ready to go.
I know next to nothing about what I’m going into. I’ve seen a little bit here and there because some people haven’t tagged their content properly, but I haven’t watched either of the trailers. I haven’t even looked directly at the images of Felix which have been going around. I’ve tried to stay as blind as possible, so as a result I’m pretty excited but also very anxious. I’ve taken two beta blockers today and I’m considering taking a third.
I usually liveblog episodes on our Ladybug PV Discord server (message me for an invite!) but this time I’m making a proper post out of it. I’ll be typing up my reactions as I go then cleaning everything up a little bit afterwards. I think it’s the first time I’ve done something like this on my blog so here goes!
- “Script: Thomas Astruc” NO. HE REALLY COULDN’T JUST STEP AWAY FROM THIS EPISODE GRACEFULLY, COULD HE. HE HAD TO GET HIS HANDS DIRTY. I’m not going to say “fuck this man” but, you know, identical sentiments. I’m opening my chocolate bar.
- God, Emilie looks more like ET every time I see her. Such an awkward model.
- Oh but wait, Sébastien Thibaudeau was on the script? That does actually give me some hope! Next to Zag himself he’s the only writer on this mess of a show I trust. HE FIXED WAYHEM, CAN HE DO FELIX A SOLID TOO? PLEASE. PLEASE SÉBASTIEN OL BUDDY OL PAL OL FRIENDA MINE
- Does Gabe have anything else to say to his wife other than monologuing his Miraculous plan over and over? They say people in comas can still hear things but Emilie’s probably double unconscious from how boring her husband is.
- DON’T LIKE THAT KNIFE SOUND EFFECT FROM THOSE RINGS. Am I supposed to find it sweet that Gabe’s taking such good care of their wedding bands or is he about to use them for evil? Also where’s Felix.
- ADRIEN SWEETHEART. I maintain that it’s weird to have a statue of your wife/mother/self in your own garden but it kills me that he’s just sitting there in front of it like a lost kitten.
- “Of course, someone will get you right away.” IS THAT FELIX. WAS SHE ON THE PHONE TO FELIX. WHERE’S MY SON, NATHALIE HAVE YOU SEEN MY SON
- That wide-eyed look Adrien turns up towards the window is killing me even more. I’M SO SAD. I see he also hasn’t noticed he’s sitting in the middle of a giant butterfly circle, unless he’s so used to it being Gabe’s logo that he’s just not paying it any mind. When was this all built? Has Gabe always used a butterfly motif even before he got his Miraculous and it was just a great coincidence, or did he commission this whole garden area after Emilie went missing? I guess you could pass it off as eccentricity but in the real world that would be a HUGE red flag that Gabe murdered her. I dunno man.
- DON’T WAVE AT HIM LIKE THAT, NATHALIE. YOU RATTED HIM OUT IN 5 SECONDS IN THAT THEORETICAL FUTURE WHERE YOU DISCOVERED HE WAS CHAT NOIR. YOU DON’T CARE ABOUT THIS BOY. >:V
- “It’s been one year.” HAS IT? Hasn’t Adrien been at school for at least a year now? Didn’t his mom vanish two years prior to that?! Maybe she’s talking about how long Gabe has been fighting Ladybug and Chat Noir but knowing this show’s messy timeline it could be anything. WHERE’S FELIX.
- That’s the song from Chat Blanc! Was that something his mom taught him? OH NO, I’M EVEN SADDER NOW. This is what I mean about Sébastien’s writing, we’d never get this kind of focus on Adrien from Garbage Man Astruc. This kind of character exploration does wonders for ML whenever it’s brought up so I hope this is consistent.
- SHIT, GABRIEL’S OUT OF THE HOUSE. SOMETHING’S WRONG. THOSE EXPENSIVE LEATHER SHOES HAVEN’T TOUCHED ACTUAL GROUND IN YEARS. ADRIEN GET OUT OF THERE.
- I do like that Adrien doesn’t get up when his dad comes to stand right next to him like that. It’s just informal enough. He’s waiting for Gabe to make the first move this time and that’s nice development considering how stiff and cold their relationship was in S1.
- OOOOH GABE THAT’S AN AWKWARD CROUCH. Any lower down and his back is going to go. He’ll be stuck there. I do LOVE that he’s trying though, I don’t even know what he’s going to say to Adrien but this is already SO good.
- “There’s something important I have to talk to you about.” Finally time for The Talk, huh.
- GABE PLEASE. ADRIEN’S WAY TOO CHIRPY TO HAVE ACTUALLY CAUGHT ON TO WHAT YOU WERE GOING TO SAY. HE THINKS YOU’RE TRYING TO SAY YOU LOVE HIM OR SOMETHING ELSE RIDICULOUS
- “I’ve noticed how close you and Nathalie have become!” CLOSE ENOUGH. Still in the ballpark of Adrien thinking his dad has real human feelings!
- “HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY THINK SUCH A THING??” I GENUINELY LAUGHED OUT LOUD AT HOW ANGRY GABE WAS ABOUT THAT. I’m not sure what to think of the “Nathalie replacing Emilie when Emilie’s technically still alive” plot either but GABE’S DECIDED FOR ME. Also good job yelling in your son’s face when you were JUST having a moment, good luck getting back up off your knees in order to storm away, old man.
- Oh alright, he did get up, but it was with a strange angry bow-legged prance. I think he still had trouble.
- I love the way Adrien just kinda wide-eye-blinks at him, like Gabe’s emotional outburst is going totally over his head. He’s been dealing with akuma FAR too long to be bothered by this.
- Guests, plural? I’m guessing Felix is one of them but is he with someone else? That makes sense given he’s (as far as I’ve gathered) the same age as Adrien so he wouldn’t be running around far from home unchaperoned, but OHHH this is so interesting.
- So they ARE claiming it’s been one year since Emilie vanished! This just doesn’t work as a Season 3 episode, especially with Nathalie and Gabe’s romantic development being as far along as it is. Emilie’s been gone for at LEAST three years by this point! Read your show bible once in a while you horrible garbage man!!! Also ADRIEN SWEETHEART THAT’S A LITTLE PREMATURE. You can say “went away forever” when you’re three years into her disappearance, the anniversary of one year really isn’t long enough to claim she’s never coming back!
- OH NO, IT’S THE GIRLS. I’m already bored. Unless Luka is here I really just do not care what they’re all up to. I haven’t missed Marinette at ALL in the first two-and-a-half minutes and I don’t want to see her now. WHERE’S FELIX.
- I’m sorry, how are Lila, Chloé AND Kagami all on a video call together without any blood being drawn? Also for god’s sake PLEASE leave Adrien alone, you want to ask first if he’d LIKE some company or if he’d prefer a quiet personal day to think about his mom? OF COURSE NOT MARINETTE, YOU WOULDN’T WOULD YOU.
- Okay, a video message is definitely a better idea than trying to break into his house AGAIN. At least then he can watch it whenever he feels up to it. The first good, safe, noninvasive idea Mari’s had for SEVERAL episodes when it comes to Adrien.
- I’M REALLY TORN WHEN IT COMES TO THE ENGLISH DUB. On one hand I hate how little screentime Nino has when he’s not just being Alya’s fashion accessory, but on the other hand I’m so glad they switched scenes the moment Nino started his video because I CANNOT handle his dub voice. Nino just deserves better in general really.
- HE WAS CRYING. MY BOY WAS CRYING AGAIN. I’M NOT COOL WITH THIS. IT’S NOT ABOVE YOUR PAYGRADE TO GIVE HIM A HUG, NATHALIE.
- ALRIGHT HI ELSA. IS THIS HIS AUNT? THAT’S SPOOKY.
- Her name is Amelie? So their parents had twins and named them Amelie and Emilie, and they turned out the same right down to the over-the-shoulder Dead Anime Mom hairstyles? That’s lazy parenting down to a tee, can’t mix your twins up if you never have to learn the difference between them in the first place! But that’s INTERESTING that Felix is (I assume, still haven’t seen him yet) from Emilie’s side of the family, I’ve always had the impression he was a petit Gabriel.
- OHHH THAT’S MY BOY! I CAN SEE MY BOY IN THE DOORWAY!!! OH MY GOD GIVE HIM TO ME. GIVE ME FELIX. GIVE ME MY SON.
- ADRIEN IMMEDIATELY JUMPING ON HIM IN A HUG IS ABSOLUTELY PERFECT. WHILE FELIX’S HAND IS STILL OUTSTRETCHED FOR A HANDSHAKE. I know this episode is going to go downhill because there’s no way it won’t, but this one single moment is EVERYTHING I WANTED. I should just close the tab now and leave it at this, I really should.
- “Do you remember when they used to have so much fun pretending to be each other? Once they had you and Emilie fooled for a whole weekend!” WHERE HAS THIS BEEN FOR MY ENTIRE ORDEAL GETTING THROUGH THIS SERIES. I don’t even care if this Felix is a stone cold bitch, it’s enough to know he and Adrien were besties when they were kids and Adrien still wanted to hug him the second he walked through the door. AMAZING.
- “I WON’T BE FOOLED A SECOND TIME.” WHAT DOES THAT MEAN, GABE. THEY WERE PROBABLY TODDLERS. ARE YOU JUST SO USED TO GETTING YOUR ASS HANDED TO YOU BY CHILDREN THAT YOU’RE SUSPICIOUS OF EVERY SINGLE ONE NOW
- Aww, Felix is American (dubbed, anyway). I was really hoping he’d be British with all the references to London over the last season. He does have a nice voice though! I can tell he shares Adrien’s actor but he’s got the softness I’d have expected from his character. There’s kind of an interesting look about his face though, I wish they’d tweaked it a bit to give him a sharper look but I guess he IS like 14, he can afford to still have a bit of baby-cheeked roundness. I’m going to find the positives in every part of this because I will NOT give Garbage Man Astruc the satisfaction of being disappointed like I know he wants me to be. It’s been a fucking war from the moment I saw his name in the writing credits and my best weapon is being pleased about everything in this episode.
- Okay, he looks a little better in the following closeup where his eyes are slightly narrowed. I think it’s the slightly-below-the-chin angle which doesn’t really work for his character model with his soft cheeks and high collar. FELIX IS A BABY.
- WHY WILL NOBODY SHAKE HIS HAND. Adrien hugged him instead and Gabe is ignoring him completely, Felix is clearly so perplexed and I love it. He’s fourteen! He’s fourteen and doing his best with social graces but NOBODY WILL HELP HIM.
- “Felix, you know your uncle’s never been the physical sort!” HE KICKED HIS OWN SON RIGHT ACROSS PARIS IN THE LAST EPISODE BUT SURE, IF YOU SAY SO.
- “Oh, how sweet! You’re still wearing your wedding band!” YEAH? IT’S BEEN LIKE A YEAR?? Again this would make more sense if it had been around three years like we KNOW Emilie’s been gone for, but picking someone out for still wearing their ring after 12 months?! And why isn’t Amelie more emotional about this anyway, isn’t it her sister who’s missing? I wouldn’t be poking fun at MY sister’s husband for keeping his ring if SHE went missing. No wonder Felix seems like he turned out weird.
- I CAN’T MAKE OUT THE NAME OF HER BRANCH OF THE FAMILY AND IT’S KILLING ME. SOMEONE LET ME KNOW WHAT THAT WAS. Graham de Vanily? I can’t place the words. I mean I’m going to keep calling Felix “Agreste” no matter what but I’d like to know what canon is trying to get at.
- “It’s been a long journey from London” I KNEW IT, I FFFFFFFFFUCKING KNEW IT. SO THEY ARE BRITISH?! BUT THEY HAVE AMERICAN ACCENTS?! I mean I guess they’re French first and foremost, but what the fuck is with the American accents if you’re making a POINT about them being from London?! I can’t wait for the French audio to be released, I really want to know what Felix sounds like there. Regardless AAAH MY SON IS FROM MY CITY, I’M SO PLEASED.
- “TakeFelixtoyourbedroom.” EASY GABE THEY JUST MET, ALSO THEY’RE COUSINS
- Poor Felix looks so depressed being saddled with Adrien. Sweetie it’s okay, think positive! You could be stuck with Marinette and THAT would be a true nightmare.
- Now why does Felix keep glancing at Gabe? Is there something going on there? Is he suspicious about what happened to his aunt? I can’t imagine he knows anything about the Miraculous so what’s the deal here?
- UuuuuUUUUGH we’re back with the rest of the gang. I’M NOT INTERESTED, SHOW ME MORE FELIX.
- “Help me Tikki! What would you tell a Kwami friend who’s lost their mom?!” You’re talking to a 5000-year-old demigoddess, Mari, I don’t think she’s gonna relate.
- MARI YOU CAN’T CONFESS TO ADRIEN. NOT AFTER CHAT BLANC. GABE WILL LOSE ALL HIS CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT TO WRECK THE LOVE SQUARE AND ALSO THE MOON’S GOING TO EXPLODE. WHY ISN’T BUNNIX HERE TO SLAP THE TABLET OUT OF YOUR HANDS
- Should Tikki really be encouraging this?! I have no idea where in the timeline this is supposed to be. Maybe this is at a stage where she doesn’t know Adrien is Plagg’s chosen so there’s no reason to steer Marinette away from bonding with him. Or maybe every episode just plays by its own rules and there’s really no such thing as continuity in this series. I want to see Felix again.
- YANKING AT AN ELECTRONIC DEVICE ON THE OUTER EDGE OF A BOAT ISN’T GOING TO END WELL. DON’T. I do love how :D Alya is about it though, if nothing else I love what a supportive friend she is.
- Oh, the tablet didn’t go into the water! I’m genuinely surprised by that. Though I imagine Felix is going to fuck things up in some way so he’ll probably be the one to destroy the video somehow. We all know the relationship development isn’t allowed to move forward so SOMETHING’S going to happen to it.
- Thank god we’re back to the mansion. I’m surprised and pleased that (for now at least) we’re only getting the girls in small doses and the plot is mainly focused around the Agrestes. Gorizilla is my favourite episode to date and it did a similar thing with allowing Marinette to be a side character for once along an Adrien-centric plotline, so hopefully this episode will be similar. I’m liking its odds so far but who knows what Horrible Garbage Man Astruc has up his sleeve.
- “I’m really sorry I didn’t come to your dad’s funeral.” I’M SORRY WHAT? PARDON ME? THAT’S AN ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM I DIDN’T EXPECT. As a side note I love Felix being killer at basketball for some reason, he doesn’t look like the athletic type at ALL but he still made that net over his shoulder without even LOOKING. Goddamn. Can everyone please appreciate how cool my son is!!!
- “My father thought it would be too hard on me, considering everything that’s happened this year.” So Felix lost his dad VERY RECENTLY. OUCH. DON’T LIKE THAT. Or I DO like that because it’s already giving his character some extra depth when we’re still only just getting to know him, but on an emotional level I don’t like that.
- “He’s very... protective of me.” CHAT BLANC REALLY WAS A HOT MESS OF AN EPISODE WASN’T IT.
- Now Felix is giving Adrien a hug?! I didn’t see that one coming. My canon Felix would mean it but I don’t quite trust this new Felix yet, he’s probably up to something.
- WHAT A JARRING PIANO TRANSITION. Also why?! What does he have to gain from swiping Adrien’s phone? He’s probably got a terrible roaming plan on his own mobile, that’s always my problem when I go to France. If you truly loved your cousin you’d let him browse Reddit on your phone, Adrien. This is worse than not coming to his dad’s funeral.
- PLAGG KNOWS SOMETHING’S UP. He ought to, in another life he and Felix are STILL dealing with each other.
- Okay I take back what I said about Felix’s voice. Bryce Whatshisface isn’t doing a very good job separating the tones. I can buy that Adrien and Felix sound very similar but their delivery should be completely different! I really do want to watch this in French, I get the feeling it’ll sound much better.
- AH YES, HERE WE GO. I’m getting the feeling this is Garbage Man’s part of the episode. Squished cheese aside, I do like the implication Felix does (or did) card magic and karate. I’m thinking of that Mickey Mouse episode where he vanishes Donald’s car keys with a hand trick except it’s Felix vanishing Marinette’s phone when she’s about to text Adrien or something. I’ve got to draw that.
- “Mind if I take a shower?” WHY, FELIX. I mean I’d probably want to shower too after the London-Paris commute (and I’m sure he’s only going in there to wreak havoc, put food colouring in Adrien’s shampoo bottles or something) but what a weird time to ask!
- I mean Plagg has a point about difficult home situations not justifying bad behaviour (and I feel like that’s not what’s going on, with how he was glaring at Gabe I think he’s behaving like this for some other reason), but Felix’s dad LITERALLY DIED. Like they had a funeral and everything. Emilie is just “missing”. They’re SIMILAR but that’s still a false equivalence because Adrien’s got hope to hold on to and Felix doesn’t.
- So we’re not going to talk about how Felix got into Adrien’s passcode-protected phone? I guess he could have done the fogging-up-the-screen trick from Oblivio. Standing around in a steamy bathroom in three layers of clothing is a great way to sweat yourself out and ruin your hair though, way to get even more gross than a five-hour commute between countries.
- “Of course that idiot has a crush on a superhero!” EASY THERE, MR HOWLING-ON-A-ROOFTOP-BECAUSE-HE-SAW-THE-GIRL-HE-LIKED. WE’VE ALL SEEN THE PV.
- I’ve just noticed Felix has a ring too! I don’t know how I missed that before this scene! That’s NICE. He’s still not allowed to have it on his middle finger (LET HIM SWEAR) but that’s a nod back to Chat Noir which I really appreciate!
- ROSE HAS BEEN ON THE HELIUM. SOMETHING’S NOT RIGHT THERE.
- FELIX KNOWS CHLOÉ! THAT’S NICE, THAT’S GOOD. I LIKE THAT. That’s also a really nice little video from her, I love the few small moments we’ve had that affirm she and Adrien really ARE friends, whether she wants to date him or not.
- OOOH HE DELETED THE VIDEOS. I’m curious about him borrowing Adrien’s clothes too, are they going to dress the same? You’d think Adrien wouldn’t give someone an exact copy of the outfit he’s currently wearing but I genuinely don’t know if he owns anything different. I hope they don’t just use two Adrien models for the rest of the episode, please let me see Felix properly :/
- WHY. HONESTLY, WHY. CAN I PLEASE GET AN EXPLANATION FOR WHY FELIX IS DOING THIS.
- OOOH MARI YOU’RE NOT GONNA LIKE THIS. I can imagine Felix is going to say something nasty and that’ll set the girls off and bring about the akuma of the week. I’m mildly entertained but I’m still not engaged with this idea without any proper explanation. We’d better get something by the end of the episode which justifies what’s made Felix do this, because “he’s just evil lol” would be a reeeeally low move from Garbage Man Astruc.
- MARI SWEETIE. YOU’VE GOTTA LEARN TO CHECK A ROOM IS EMPTY BEFORE YOU RUN INSIDE AND START FREAKING OUT VERY LOUDLY. LUKA’S HEARD ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING.
- Luka is such a nice character. Why does he get to be so high quality when Felix has been turned into a cheese-smashing phone-stealing gremlin? I mean I KNOW why, but I’d like to think the showwriters are better than this. They’re not, but I’d like to think they are.
- WHAT A VIDEO MESSAGE. I love how Luka’s just sitting there grimacing while Mari speeds off into battle, he doesn’t know what she’s about to do but he knows better than to try stopping her.
- Back with Gabe and Nathalie. Is this what was being foreshadowed when Gabe claimed he wouldn’t be fooled by the boys’ identity switch twice? Is he GOING to be fooled again or will he be the one person who can tell immediately that this isn’t his son?
- “FELIX.” WOW, HE REALLY WASN’T FOOLED TWICE. RESPECT. He may have trouble getting up off the ground if he sits down too low but he can at least identify his child in a difficult situation like this, props to Gabe this week.
- “All this disappointment might just help us get rid of our unwanted guests!” SHUT YOUR MOUTH, FELIX IS A DELIGHT. The only unwanted guest here is Astruc on the writing team.
- “Felix... I told you that you couldn’t fool me twice.” Way to blow your identity in five seconds Gabe. I guess he hasn’t sent out the akuma yet so this might just be a personal monologue, but he starts addressing his victims directly so often at this stage that I’m really not sure what they can or can’t hear. SHIT’S RISKY.
- OH OKAY, SO HE’S SENDING THIS TRIPLE AKUMA AFTER FELIX? AND/OR ADRIEN, DEPENDING ON HOW HARD IT IS TO TELL THEM APART? I guess that’s what he means by getting rid of their guests, if the house is attacked by a monster (or monsters?) they aren’t going to want to stick around, but I REALLY HOPE YOU’RE TAKING ADRIEN’S WELLBEING INTO ACCOUNT HERE GABE OL BUDDY :/
- “TIKKI, SPOTS ON! MNUURGH” ME TOO MARINETTE. I’M REALLY ONLY 12 MINUTES INTO THIS.
- I’m gonna be honest, I’m not really interested in the girls. I was hoping for a real triple akuma (like Oblivio was apparently Alya and Nino together) but they’re all just villains we’ve seen before. There’s stuff I could comment on here but I just want to see more of Felix, that’s what I’m here for.
- “Nathalie, get Adrien to a safe place far from his cousin!” YOU’RE REALLY JUST GONNA SACRIFICE FELIX LIKE THIS. I guess that makes sense, I WAS complaining during Chat Blanc that Adrien is Gabriel’s weak point, so all things considered I’m not surprised that he’ll protect Adrien but just flat-out wants Felix dead. Fair enough.
- WOW. I THOUGHT ADRIEN WAS GOING TO BE HEROIC AND DEFEND FELIX BUT HE WANTS HIM DEAD TOO. Or was that a double bluff to make the akuma think he MUST be Felix so he can lead them away and keep his cousin safe? He’s just run off with a wild cackle so I’m thinking it’s the latter. HE’S A GOOD BOY AND A TRUE HERO.
- I also find it kind of funny how Nathalie will jump in harm’s way to defend him when there have been INNUMERABLE other episodes of Gabe just setting an akuma directly on Adrien for the hell of it. Maybe because there isn’t really any ‘harm’ here to start with; the three girls’ powers are probably the least violent of all the akuma we’ve seen so far.
- AM I REALLY ABOUT TO SEE FELIX DRESSED AS ADRIEN DOING KARATE. I HOPE HE’S GOOD AT IT.
- OH MY GOD HE IS GOOD AT IT. That’s cool! I was expecting him to totally flop considering how badly his imposter trick went down a few minutes ago, but it’s nice to see he’s as capable at fighting as he is at basketball. When do I get to see his magic card tricks?
- YEAH I FEEL THE SAME PLAGG. WHAT’S EVEN HAPPENING. Not that I think Adrien shouldn’t save Felix, I just want to know WHY Felix felt like he had to do this in the first place! I feel like “can I PLEASE get a waffle” except instead of watching the employees fight I’m watching this episode careening away with no pauses to explain what’s going on.
- FELIX C’MON. STOP CAUSING PROBLEMS ON PURPOSE. I can tell Garbage Man Astruc still has the reins here because causing even MORE trouble even AFTER Adrien saved his ass is a completely illogical course of action. PUT SÉBASTIEN BACK IN THE WRITERS CHAIR.
- “WHICH PART OF THE WORD ‘NO’ DID YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?!” Oh perfect, great, can’t let this episode end without accusing Felix of not respecting consent! That’s a hot button issue and if Garbage Man Astruc can get him on that bandwagon then fans HAVE to hate this character! Great move! Fucking pillock!
- WOW CHAT THAT’S MEAN. I guess accusing Felix of having no friends is justified in the context of the episode but yikes :(
- Was that a flash of humiliation from Felix there? God will one of the writers PLEASE save this character, PLEASE don’t let this episode end without someone getting him out of the Garbage Man’s big meaty claws.
- Excuse me WHAT? Felix is talking directly to Papillon?! So he knows about all the Miraculous stuff?! Oh NO, is this about getting his dad back? I don’t know whether the One Wish is common knowledge (I don’t think it is?) but maybe Felix put the pieces together on his own back home, so all his behaviour here has been trying to incite an akuma that he can take advantage of to appeal to Papillon?! Or he could just be a bitch all on his own, which is probably what the Garbage Man would prefer, but this makes a lot of sense all of a sudden.
- BRO HE NEARLY DIED. BRO. BROOO.
- “I hope you’ve learned your lesson!” YOU’RE NOT EVEN GONNA ASK ABOUT THE PAPILLON THING? YOU CAN’T JUST TREAT THIS AS A REGULAR DISTURBANCE, FELIX KNOWS SHIT ABOUT THE MIRACULOUS YOU GUYS--
- FELIX’S MOM IS REALLY GOING TO BLAME HIS DEAD DAD FOR THIS? HARD YIKES. NO WONDER FELIX IS WEIRD.
- I’m expecting this isn’t over, because Felix still clearly wants something specific that he didn’t get, but I’ll take this cute hug for what it is. He didn’t have an evil expression behind Adrien’s back this time either and the music is all soft and nice, plus he FINALLY got a handshake from Gabe, but I absolutely do NOT imagine this episode will end without getting an extra shot in at the PV fans somehow. We’re not getting off this easy.
- Why doesn’t Gabriel want Adrien to go after Felix? Is he scared he’ll try to run off, or ask them to stay longer when he really wants to get rid of them?
- AHAHA FELIX STOLE GABE’S RING. WHAT A BRAT. Was that the “jewelry” he mentioned wanting in return for helping Papillon? I figured it was a Miraculous thing but maybe not.
- OHHH, look how much Felix loves his mom! This is such a sweet scene. I particularly like the idea that Amelie was trying to get the rings back to give one to Felix because the way she was speaking to Gabe made it sound like she wanted them Just Because. But you can’t mention some wild story connected to the rings and then not explain it! I want to know what that is, I want to know why Felix is so fascinated with it!!!
- ALSO, FELIX GETTING A BIG KISS RIGHT ON THE FOREHEAD. EXCELLENT. I’ll fucking BET this is another scene Sébastien sneaked in because it’s such an emotional quality shift from the whole clone mess. Like what the fuck even WAS that.
- Yep, Felix is still evil! WHY THOUGH. WHAT’S GOING ON. CAN I PLEASE GET A WAFFLE
- I was expecting a worse ending, but “Felix can’t ever come back to Paris because Gabriel will kill him with his bare hands if he does” is decent enough. If there’s no further confirmation (and NO, anything Garbage Man Astruc tweets later on does NOT fucking count so don’t try me) I’m going to take it that he WAS actually sorry for what he did to Adrien. That’s better than nothing.
.
.
WELL THAT WAS AN EPISODE. That actually wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be - it could have been a lot better but it could have been a lot worse too. The beginning and end were nice enough even if the middle part was Garbage Man Astruc’s usual atrocious mess of self-service, though I do particularly despise the hamfisted consent issue shoved in there just to generate extra reasons to hate the character. WE GET IT, YOU DON’T LIKE FELIX. OFF YOU FUCK.
I’ve slept on this next paragraph to give myself time to formulate some concrete thoughts about the plot, so... Well, it was a mess, that’s for sure. They spent way too much time establishing how oH sO eViL Felix was and not nearly enough time actually explaining his character.
Why is he acting out like this? What has he got against Adrien in particular? Is he really sore about Adrien not supporting him at his dad’s funeral or is that just what Adrien thinks is his problem? What was his relationship with his dad before he died? Was his troublemaking all about trying to provoke an akuma and ask Papillon to help him get his family rings back (which he was clearly trying to steal from the moment he walked through the door, only Gabe wouldn’t shake his hand the first time), or was that just a side effect of causing shit for no reason? Did he mean his apology to Adrien at the end? WHAT was the deal with the rings and the story attached to them? There’s a whole interesting story buried in here which just got completely overlooked by the emphasis on how terrible he was and that’s really disappointing.
I did like his damaged-but-still-good relationship with Adrien though, there’s still hope there and maybe Felix (if he ever shows up again, which I only hope he does if it’s NOT another excuse for Garbage Man Astruc to shit on the PV fandom again, for the love of FUCK don’t give this guy multiple opportunities) will start coming around and making the effort to be a better cousin since Adrien’s given him a second chance. I don’t know. What I liked just as much was Marinette actually barely being in this episode at all, for the first time since Gorizilla she’s ALLOWED to be the supporting character again and that’s GREAT.
I don’t really know what else to say. I’m exhausted. Adrien’s a darling and I think I prefer my Twin AU, though canon Felix being a delightful little gremlin who causes problems-on-purpose is something I can work with in the future too.
Thanks for coming on this... interesting journey with me! I posted a set of tweets last night which I’ll leave here to finish up:
#josie's art#josie talks about things#miraculous ladybug#felix agreste#this can go in my felix tag for organisation's sake#and NO i'm not going to start calling him felix vanillagrahams or whatever his canon name is; leave me alone#anyway here's the post everyone wanted; it got VERY LONG but i ain't even sorry#i usually liveblog on the PV discord server but i felt this deserved its own post of basically-the-same-thing-but-neater
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“Yo, anyone here?”
Brock closed the door to South London Styling behind him and surveyed the room. He had no idea what to expect, but was pleasantly surprised by the interior. It looked like a good barber, perhaps even towards the higher end. A man in his thirties, dressed in black polo shirt and pants emerged from a back room, and greeted him. “Good Morning. How can I help?” he said in a British accent, which Brock had always thought sounded smart.
Brock pulled out a card from his khakis and handed over. “Well, that’s the thing. I don’t know what you do. It was just my birthday and the frat house gave me this card. Wrapped in like 30 envelopes.” He was reassured by the surroundings. Jake got a gift card for a lap dance from a male escort service. Luke the second got a blow-up sex doll. Luke the first had gotten a hot air balloon ride, but he was afraid of heights. So far this looked like the pretty normal gift, but he was sure there was some twist somewhere. With frat birthdays you should always watch a gift horse in the mouth.
The man looked carefully at the card in his hands. “Ah, the all-inclusive personal styling and outfitting. You really should have called ahead of time to schedule a session.” Brock was intrigued by the contradictions of this barber’s, or whatever he was, hands, holding his gift card. Both arms were heavily tattooed, but on the left wrist was a fancy designer timepiece. “I’m normally over at the campus but had another thing downtown. How long does it take? Do I need to come back?”
The man looked up from the card. “It sort of depends on the wishes of the client, but we usually set aside two hours. I do have an opening right now, with the caveat that the next appointment might arrive at the end of the session, cutting it slightly short.” “Sure, I have time. What is it you do, though? Haircuts?” “We do that too, but we try to be your one-stop for all styling and grooming. As the name suggests we have a more European focus on the style. In particular a look known as Chav.” “Never heard of. Sounds French.” “It is British. Perhaps you have heard the related term Scally?” “Sounds Italian. Nope there too. I love European fashion though. In theory at least. I have a student budget.” “Well, perhaps we can get started and you’ll get a feel for what direction to go. In the all-inclusive package, besides all the grooming, one full outfit is included for you to take home. I’m Alexander by the way.” “Brock”
Brock had no idea what to expect. He didn’t know anything about British fashion trends. Kilts and tweeds would obviously be off the table. Otherwise his only reference was Rob, the exchange student from UK, who always wore too tight pants, sorry trousers. Was that British fashion? He followed the man into the back room.
The room was a surprise. Large and bright, with neutral furniture and muted, light colors. Lots of wardrobe doors along the walls, some furniture to sit on, and a room divider in one corner, presumably acting as a fitting room. “If you like European fashion, let’s start with the European brands”, said Alexander as he went to a wardrobe and pulled out one adidas top after the other, placing them on a rack.
There was a second of confusion for Brock when the contrast between his expectations and the class of the room clashed with the almost jarring display of streetwear. Of course his frat house hadn’t bought him a bespoke suit and tie. He’d expected a twist, then just when he thought this was a real birthday present: twist. But a new set of athletic clothes isn’t cheap, so he decided to engage fully. Let’s go all in with this style and let the house get the laughter they’ve paid for. Perhaps it would even look good on him.
Once past the disappointment, Brock found the whole experience interesting. He hadn’t really thought about the difference in relaxed clothes between different areas. Instead of his normal outfit of jerseys, baller shorts or cargo pants Alexander showed him a range of track tops and “joggers”. Together they placed a black T-shirt, adidas track top, unbranded grey sweats, and a pair of Nike shoes on a couch. As Brock grabbed it all to try it on, Alexander placed two plastic-wrapped bundles on top of the pile. One was a two-pack McKenzie briefs and the other was a 3-pack unbranded white socks.
“You want me to strip naked?” “It’s up to you, but we do offer a complete style.”
It wasn’t until behind the divider, with his khakis and shirt folded into a pile, that he made the decision. It felt weird stripping naked in the same room as another dude, although on the other side of the screen, but he reminded himself that he would use the gift card to the max. Off went his underwear, and he started putting all the new clothes on.
Looking at himself in the mirror it kind of felt different. Sure, it was just clothes, but how often do you replace everything. How often is everything you wear chosen by someone else? He had input on what items to take, but from a selection already decided for him.
“Well mint.” “Mint?” “It looks good on you. Let’s style the rest of you to match.”
They walked back out into the barber part and Brock sat down in one of the chairs. Alexander put a barber’s gown over Brock and started to prepare him for a haircut with a sanex strip around his neck. Brock had a quick thought about his clothes in the other room when Brock spoke again.
“There are a few different styles I would recommend for your look and face shape.” “Just pick whatever you think is best.” “Oh, OK. In that case we have an additional service we can provide while you relax, if you wish. It’s a kind of motivational attitude tape you can listen to. Completely complimentary, and optional, of course.” “Yeah, sure. I’m all in.” “Do you smoke?” “What?” “We have different tapes depending on your preference.” “Yeah, now that it’s legal I light up occasionally.” “Very well. Put these in.”
Alexander opened a small box with some wireless in-ear headphones, put on some disposable rubber covers and handed them to Brock. While Brock fiddled with getting them into place, Alexander brought a cup of tea and a small plate with what looked like a piece of single chewing gum.
“Just drink the tea and then start chewing on the chewing gum, and I’ll get started.” Alexander said, and started tapping on a cellphone. The earpieces started to stream a constant, but not very loud hiss. Brock wasn’t used to tea, but this one was alright. Bitter, sweet, and a hint of lemon. Alexander started to draw a line around his skull with a clipper machine. Was he getting a bowl cut? If that is the price for a new set of clothes, so be it. He was getting really relaxed.
Brock jerked violently as he woke up, looking around confused to establish where he was. His eyes landed on an unfamiliar guy. “Good Morning again. Did you have a nice nap?” said someone standing next to him, and slowly he got his brain in gear. “Oi Alex!”. Brock looked back at the unfamiliar guy in the mirror. If it wasn’t for the face, he saw nothing that would clue him in that it was him in the mirror. A fresh set of clothes and a fresh new haircut that somehow managed to look clean, athletic, trashy and aggressive, all at the same time. He was loving it. “Looking mint, mate!” he said, causing Alex to smile.
“I didn’t want to make any decisions for you while you were relaxing. Would you care for a nick or two in the brow?” “Hot looking, innit. Go for it, mate.” Alex took a small clipper and quickly made two slits in Brock’s left eyebrow with his steady hand. There was a piece of stale chewing gum in Brock’s mouth that bothered him. He felt he needed something, but this gum had given all it could. Discretely he took it out when Alex looked away, and stuck it under one of the chair’s armrests.
“Finally, we do have some time for ear piercings if you want.” “Sounds epic, mate.” While Alex went to pick up the piercing gun, Brock grabbed the pack of cigarettes off the desk in front of him, pulled out a fag, and put it in his mouth. Even though it wasn’t lit, it felt so much better to have something in the mouth. “I have these healing studs that look pretty good.” Alex held out a pair of cut glass studs. “You can switch them out for something fancier once healed in 6 weeks, if you want.” “Those are well nice. Fucking mint, innit.”
As Alex cleaned, pierced and finished with his ears, Brock considered what he saw in the mirror. If any of the wankers at the frat gave attitude he would kick them in the teeth. This was mint as fuck. If only he was allowed to light his fucking fag.
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alright i really went ham with this im sorry this is so long hkdasfhsakj but i went through and picked a number for each character bc fun story. here we go. Monty: 39, Vivian: 18, Gemma:60, Jaimie: 54, Amber:53 The professor: 12, Ruth: 81, Finnian: 88, Dante: 44, Cassandra: 11, Edward: 78, Spacekeeper: 84, then 89, 92 and 93 for any of them. answer as many or as little as you want ajdhlkafdhsjfjkl
That is a LOT but I accept the challenge! I’ll just choose random for the last ones though:
39. What does their happily ever after look like?
Monty’s happily ever after is a peaceful life full of laziness and having fun by being himself and acting like a fool. He wants to be close to his brother, Dante, and all his friends, but mostly he wants Vivian to stay by his side forever. Just a life of causing a little mischief in a village, planting vegetables, then visiting his brother and talking to Vivian by the creek is all he really wants
18. What languages can they speak? Where did they learn these languages?
At first I was tempted to say Vivian only knows English, BUT I think Vivian would know a lot of ancient languages based on her teachings since she was originally going to become a scholar when she was older. It’s a fantasy world so the ancient languages aren’t the same as the ones we have, but now I’m obsessing over the idea of Vivian reciting old texts to herself in a language that no one else understands
60. Describe the way they sleep.
Gemma probably just sleeps on her back. She’s always a little diligent at all times, but also she does have a lot of pain (I still haven’t decided on a disability for her sadly though), so sleeping in more complicated positions might not be the best idea for her
54. What is their current hairstyle? What have been some of their past hairstyles? Which was their favorite hairstyle?
Currently, he has long dreads pulled back in a ponytail. When he was SUPER young his head was completely shaved because of ~noble traditions~, but he likes it more grown out than that. His favorite though was probably when he also had dreads on the top but the sides were shaved. Barber materials are pretty hard to come by, so he can’t have that anymore when he has nothing to shave his sides with
53. What is their hair color? Eye color? Skin tone?
Amber is white but she’s a bit tan since she spends a lot of time outside, and her hair has completely grayed over. Not that she’s THAT old, but her hair used to be super red so it just grays out faster. As for her eyes, probably like a light brown
12. How old are they? When is their birthday?
The Professor is the oldest of the main gang. He’s 25, and birthdays are kinda complicated because they don’t have a calendar separated by months, but only by seasons. So his birthday would be considered Spring the 20th (not gonna lie I’m not sure what day that is on our calendar, I’d have to check)
81. Are they bothered by the sight of blood?
The REAL Ruth is very bothered by blood. But Ruth is also a ghost, so her mind is kinda taken over and she doesn’t act the same as she did when she was alive for a long time. So Ghost Ruth couldn’t care less about blood, she loves it. But original Ruth hates it
88. Do they have an accent?
I always read Finnian as having an accent. I wanna say it’s a Southern British accent, but it’s not like…the attractive kind you know? Like his voice isn’t smooth, he sounds like The Hobbit does if that makes sense
44. Do they have any scars? If so, what are the stories behind those scars?
Dante has a lot of scars, but tiny ones. Lots of them are from some accidents he gets into when he accidentally hurts himself, or just when he’s generally clumsy. But he also has a VERY faded scar on his back that no one knows where it came from until the end of the book
11. If they could make a mark on history, what would they like it to be?
Cassandra has made…a very much so less than ideal mark on history. But if she didn’t get into the mess that she did, she’d want to be forever remembered as the gentle queen she was during her rule, who did everything she could to help her people
78. Who do they consider to be their best friend?
Edward considers Cassandra and The Spacekeeper his two best friends, but he has a bit more of a bromance with The Spacekeeper admittedly. Which MEGA sucks for him dude
84. Which deadly sin do they represent best?
The Spacekeeper is probably Wrath out of them all, but it’s hard to tell considering lots of his reactions aren’t actually his own. Him as a general human being before the book takes place would probably just be Pride, mostly because being a Divine can get to your head
89. What is their D&D alignment?
Choosing a random character: The Professor is Chaotic Evil 100%. Absolute bastard of a man
92. Describe them as a John Mulaney gif.
I gotta do Monty for this
93. What’s the most iconic line of dialogue they’ve ever said?
I’m gonna do Cassandra for this one. Probably her most iconic line is “Vivian isn’t here anymore. She’s mine.”
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FAVES and FAILS: The Vampire Diaries
So I have decided that since The Vampire Diaries has a spin off, The Originals, I am going to divide the characters based on where they appeared the most. So on this list I will be talking about the Salvatores, the Petrova/Gilbert line, the Bennets and Caroline, etc. but I will discuss the Mikaelsons, Hayley, etc. on their own list with the other characters that appeared on The Originals mostly. As always, spoilers are abound as I will discuss storylines and character arcs below, so be warned of that. In any case, here’s my FAVES and FAILS for The Vampire Diaries.
FAVORITE MALE CHARACTER: Damon Salvatore
Could it be anyone else? I don’t think so. He’s a delightful little sociopathic shit and I love everything about him. He is 99% id and 1% ego, if that, and even when I hated him, I loved him (god, I sound like Elena…). In any case, love this man, five stars, would recommend, chef’s kiss.
LEAST FAVORITE MALE CHARACTER: …I think Matt Donovan…?
Ugh, it’s hard to pick between Matt, Tyler, and Jeremy, but I think it has to be Matt. I never enjoyed his judgey attitude against everything supernatural, he seemed pretty whiney most of the time, and he was just genuinely uninteresting for the majority of the show. Not into it. Pass.
FAVORITE FEMALE CHARACTER: Katherine Pierce (Katarina Petrova)
I thought about giving this post to Caroline by default, but if it comes down to it, Katherine nudges her way into the top spot. Katherine gave no fucks, knew what she wanted and was unapologetic about how she went about getting it, and an all around bad bitch. Was she primarily evil? Yes. But, to be honest, it never really bothered me.
LEAST FAVORITE FEMALE CHARACTER: Bonnie Bennet
God, this woman was annoying. She was hypocritical, judgmental, and far too holier than thou for me to swallow her bullshit. She constantly played favorites with Caroline and Elena (I’m sorry, you hold Caroline becoming a vampire against her for like two seasons, but when Elena becomes one, it’s not her fault? Sure.). She hated all supernatural creatures because they “go against nature”, but it’s totally chill for you to perform sacrificial magic to get what you want, unleashing a terrible evil in the process (but it’s not her fault). How she nearly excommunicated Caroline just because she stayed with Stefan after Stefan killed Enzo, as if it was her fault in any way. How everyone treated her like she was a special little unicorn because she’s a Bennet Witch and she’s so magical, like, please, gag me. I could go on, but I honestly cannot be bothered. Hard pass.
THE CHARACTER THAT DESERVED BETTER: Caroline Forbes
She was essentially shunned by all of her friends and family for becoming a vampire, even though she didn’t choose to become one at all. Also, she was basically used as collateral damage for the entire Salvatores and Gilberts versus The Mikaelsons debacle just because Klaus liked her. She was always the second choice no matter what the situation was (unless it’s her being impregnated with magical twins without her consent and then guilted into carrying the babies, but poor Alaric just lost his wife. I’m sorry, unless it’s your uterus, shut the fuck up). I’ll just be over here doing what exactly NO ONE on the show did, and pick Caroline first.
DEADWEIGHT CHARACTER WE SHOULD’VE DUMPED IN 2009: Tyler Lockwood
I couldn’t pick Matt twice, so Tyler, I guess. He was selfish, a terrible boyfriend to both Caroline and also Liv later, and if I have to hear that boy whine about his fucking sire bond one more time I will literally throw my laptop off of a bridge.
UNDERHYPED CHARACTER: Lorenzo “Enzo” St. John
Honestly, he’s one of the one things that made the last few seasons of the show bearable. His delightful British rogue was a lovely way to fill the void that the Mikaelsons left in my heart, his devil-may-care attitude was man-made-manifest of what I was always thinking while watching the show, his BFF relationship with Damon and later Caroline was a joy to watch, and he was way too good for Bonnie.
OVERHYPED CHARACTER: Alaric Saltzman
He is marginally more bearable right now on Legacies, but he annoyed the shit out of me while he was on the first show. Does he hate vampires or is he best friends with them? Does he want to be a hunter or does he want to stay away from anything supernatural of any kind? Also, he (along with nearly everyone else) basically guilted Caroline into carrying his magical siphoner babies, which is a touch too icky for me…
SHIP YOU WOULD SELL YOUR SOUL FOR: Delena (Damon and Elena)
Could it be anyone else? I never shipped Stelena, as I found both Stefan annoying and Elena too woe-is-me while she was with him. She made Damon want to be a better person and he made her embrace who she really was, monster and all. They had a perfect balance between themselves, and it was a joy to watch. He got the girl, guys.
SHIP YOU JUST WERE’N THAT INTO: Steroline (Stefan and Caroline)
They were just too…meh. I was entirely uninterested in them, whatsoever, and isn’t that even worse than a ship that you hate? I used their scenes for a bathroom break or to get a snack, as I was guaranteed to miss nothing interesting or important while they were on screen.
CHARACTER YOU LOVE TO HATE/FAVORITE VILLAIN: Kai Parker
What does it say about me that all of my favorite characters are violent psychopaths…? I’m just going to leave that to be unpacked with the future therapists I’m bound to hire. Kai was the perfect evil. He was powerful, purposeful, and unapologetically demonic in the very best way. I could watch him terrorize my favorite characters forever and not get bored. Perfection.
FAVORITE STORYLINE: Stefan and Damon’s Brotherhood
If you don’t think this is what the show was about at it’s core, you’re wrong. They loved each other, they hated each other, they died for each other, they killed for each other, and, ultimately, they let nothing and nobody come between them. If you asked me who Damon loved more, Elena or Stefan, I COULD NOT answer you, and isn’t that just the fucking point?!
STORYLINE WE COULD’VE DONE WITHOUT: Magical Babies
I know that a major reason this was even a storyline is because Candice Accola got pregnant, but still…how? Like…she is a vampire..? She is unable to biologically change…? Like can someone grab me a biology textbook and explain how this a thing that can happen BIOLOGICALLY, please? I get that they are mythical creatures, so science doesn’t mean much here, but it just doesn’t make sense in any universe. Also, as I said above, the fact that Caroline was impregnated without her consent and then largely guilted into carrying the babies is a touch too rape-y for me…
BIGGEST PLOTHOLE: Do they go to school, or…?
Like, are they just compelling the teachers to not notice them not attending class like 90% off the time? Also, how do the people in Mystic Falls not know anything about the supernatural? Like, they aren’t subtle AT ALL so how do they keep sliding under the radar? Also, in a lesser way, how are hybrid witch/vampires a thing? Like, I thought if a witch dies (like they would have to if they become a vampire), they lose their magic…?Make it make sense, Julie!
MOST HEARTBREAKING MOMENT: Damon Dies (the first time)
Honestly one of the saddest moments in the entire series was Damon’s ghost watching Elena lose it when he doesn’t make it back from the Other Side. They were finally happy and together and they can only enjoy it for like five minutes before it goes to shit. Why, Julie??!
BIGGEST EYEROLL MOMENT: Magical Babies (again)
I try to not use something twice on this list but COME ON. This was ridiculous and I do not support this in any way. (Also this twin bullshit is still fucking annoying on Legacies, if anyone was wondering).
MOST SHOCKING MOMENT (any spit-takes?): Elena forces Kathrine to take The Cure
This was one of the moments that I literally gasped aloud. Most of the time the foreshadowing on these shows is seen from miles away, but I honestly did not see this coming at all. Also, Kathrine was basically the LAST person who wanted that cure so it’s crazy that she was the one to end up taking it and turning human.
MOST BADASS MOMENT: Kathrine kisses Damon at the end of Season 1
Like I said before, she is the original BAD BITCH of the show (not an actual Original, but you know what I mean…) and this was an amazing entry for the character who would be, largely, the villain of the series. It played on the feelings that Damon is developing for Elena, it finally introduced the person who started it all for the Salvatores, and it showed us exactly who she is at her core, and that she isn’t sorry about it at all.
SERIES FINALE SATISFACTORY LEVEL (use no words, just gifs):
OVERALL MARKS OUT OF TEN (10 being this show has changed your life for the better, you happily rewatch the series over and over, and the show has made your life better in some way. 1 being this show gave you nothing but trust issues, a stomach ulcer, and high blood pressure, and you honestly do not know why you did this to yourself)
7 out of 10.
I look back on The Vampire Diaries with the kind of fondness that only comes from a bizarre mix of nostalgia and incredulity. When scenes from this series show up on my instagram feed or on my Youtube recommended page, an involuntary smile creeps across my face without me realizing. I could do without like half of the characters and some entire seasons were completely unnecessary to watch, but it gave me some of my very favorite characters and ships, and spawned an entire universe that I still enjoy to this day. This magical, crazy, beautiful world was a joy to experience, even when it made me want to beat my head against a wall at least once per season.
If you want to see the other ones I have made, here's the original post with links. x Hope you like these! (I say to probably no one...)
#The Vampire Diaries#TVD#Vampires#Damon Salvatore#Stefan Salvatore#Damon and Stefan#Elena Gilbert#Damon and Elena#Delena#Caroline Forbes#Bonnie Bennet#enzo st. john#werewolves#magic#witches#the CW#fandom#ships#I ship it#shipping#tv shows#favorite#Katherine Pierce#Katerina Petrova#Matt Donovan#Tyler Lockwood#Jeremy Gilbert#Salvatore#hello brother#gifs
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pinky and the brain - s1e6: brainania
i’m running on like the barest dregs of energy let’s fucking do this leeroy jenkins
episode summary: brain needs to build a Very Big Tumbly Drier. he needs a lot of money to build a Very Big Tumbly Drier. he decides the best way to do this is to.... invent a country and scam the us out of a foreign aid cheque.
hm.
the rundown:
it’s acme labs!
there it is.
as we zoom in a little, we hear pinky laughing maniacally at the very mention of tom ruegger, while a couple of women are dead on the floor.
hm.
SPEAK TO ME, PHYLLIS, SPEAK. as it turns out, things aren’t quite as dire as previously thought, as pinky affirms that brain looks “simply fetching.”
narf.
“these are the only garments i could obtain. and besides, you are no helen of troy yourself.”
ignoring the fact that he chose to wear the hat and the gloves as well, brain moves onto explaining his latest plan--
but not before giving pinky a static-y poke for his crimes.
“to generate global static cling, we shall construct a massive clothes dryer.”
BEHOLD.
THE TITANOCYCLE FOUR THOUSAND, WITH THREE SPEEDS AND AUTOMATIC WRINKLEGUARD. this will surely allow brain to.... trap everyone in their clothes via static cling and. uh. allow him to seize power...... somehow......... by putting everyone in a really big tumbledryer?????
it costs fourteen billion dollars.
“oh, i have it!”
“we build a huge tooth, leave it under a huge pillow, and then fairies will leave us lots of money!”
brain tells pinky to stop eating paint chips. it’s a well deserved response to pinky’s insane, bullshit idea, not nearly as dignified and scientific as Everyone Goes In The Big Tumbly Dryer By Brain Age Two And A Half.
as he heads off to ponder an Equally Sensible idea to get a lot of money, pinky assures brain that he will not “be a bother.”
“brain.”
“if i ate a hundred jelly rolls, would i explode?”
i don’t know why pinky is sticking his ass out. maybe that’s where the jelly rolls go, in the sense that whenever i used to eat cakes around my dad he’d often say something like “a minute on the lips is a lifetime on the hips”. (also? pinky is british, so what he actually means is jelly rolls, and that sounds disgusting.)
so anyway brain gives him a piece of paper and tells him to try origami.
BUT WAIT.
“pinky! are you pondering what i’m pondering?” “i think so brain, but why the bitch stacey foreign aid office is giving chad all the money while i’ve always been a nice guy and showed her a basic level of human respect is beyond me. narf.”
no i’m sorry. he didn’t say that. pinky respects women. also apologies to the residents of the actual country of chad. big ups to all of you. lol. (he actually says “but pantyhose are so uncomfortable in the summertime”, which is wild, considering this episode was aired in november.)
brain doesn’t want to wear the pantyhose.
well, maybe he does, but not right now. instead, he suggests that they form a bogus nation and demand reparations from the united states, which is, of course, easier, saner, and far less work than Really Big Tooth. as he folds the Chad Newspaper into a vague key shape (the Virgin Tabloid never had a chance) pinky points out that, uh
you can’t just invent a country, brain. “won’t people know we’re not a real country?”
“the average american’s grasp of geography is pitiful. they’ll think we’re part of the former soviet union.”
“or canada.”
so they pick a random, tiny island on the label of a Science Chemical and set off on the boat to Being A Coloniser Town.
a long sea voyage awaits us! and at the end, we shall found a nation! and that nation shall be called!
BRAINANIA.
“can’t we call it pinkyland? or eric?”
“don’t vex me, pinky, or i shall turn on you.”
so they get on the S.S FATTY LUMPKIN and bugger off to Island X.
“i haven’t seen anybody yet, brain. i guess we’re alone here.”
“excellent, pinky. it’s time to flesh out the terrain.”
“that volcano will be mount brain.”*
“this clearing will be brain flats,”
“and that water over there--”
“very well.”
“the fjord of pinky.”
and they hoist their adorable, homemade flag, while pinky doots them a little themetune.
(*perhaps when they’re not in the middle of the jungle.)
how lovely!
less lovely.
significantly less lovely. still, it got brain to make the little O:O face, so it’s not all bad.
as the mice are scooped up onto a sphere and presented in front of this presumably-maori gentleman, brain decides to put his White Gay From Los Angeles skills to the test, and reassures pinky that he will communicate with them in the Primitive Argot Of The South Seas.
ME NUMBER ONE FELLA. OTHER FELLA NUMBER TEN. CATCHY ALL SAME SAME. YOU SAVVY?
“good day, mate. d’you speak english?”
hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
anyway apparently this has happened often enough that these guys learnt english. from all the times it happened. and then they ate the guy they learnt english from and shrunk his head, but to be honest, i don’t blame them.
this is alan. “hello, alan.” says pinky.
“i would be pinky! and this is prime minister brain.”
“who is IN CHARGE OF THIS ISLAND AND EVERYTHING YOU SEEEE.”
“narf.”
sneaky bastard knows what he’s doing.
alan isn’t too happy with that, because the island belongs to the volcano god, whanganui,
WHO PROTECTS US FROM EVIL AND HAAARM AND WHAT ALL ELSE.
(i can find no evidence that whanganui is actually a god, as opposed to just A Bit Of New Zealand. if they are, i’m more than happy to go back and edit this as would be religiously considerate.)
this is the face of a man who knows he has fucked up.
still, brain decides yet again that his pride comes before any kind of rational decision, so he decides to tell them that whanganui sent him to the island to rule over them,
as proven by his fire powers.
(ETA: i missed this last time. why is brain carrying a lighter around? that episode isn’t for a good few more seasons yet.)
alan is unimpressed.
I CAN TRAP YOUR SOULS INSIDE THIS GLASS
“i can make bubbles with my spit!”
apparently this is a real talent on the island. who’d have thought. (they do not believe it to be a sign of god. it’s just really cool.)
so brain gets a hand building brainania.
it has everything one could possibly need.
actually pretty much as soon as the airport and the gift shop are built, brain heads to washington, so evidently he holds the strong opinion that this is everything a country could possibly need. odd. still, maybe he plans on adding stuff once he becomes world ruler, or whatever.
so with that established, The Most Exalted ned limpopo gets out of the car. hassan lembeck is also here. he is attempting to make an origami bird out of a newspaper.
no bird for you, mr lembeck. no bird for you.
they wander off to go and see mr bisck, who is currently playing with a little toy plane.
he reacts to the news that the prime minister of brainania is here to see him with “oh great, more moochers,”
and does not seem to take kindly to having tiny mice on his desk, even if they are reasonably exalted.
though a quick database search tells him said mice have no record of financial trouble, or, indeed, a credit rating, so. he tells them to go away.
“go away.”
okay. hassan doesn’t take this well.
as Exalted Ned Limpopo gently tries to persuade mr bisck that he could “harm negotations” between brainania and the us (a lot more politely than he usually explains things to people, may i add) hassan chimes in with a haven’t you people ever heard of bold claim that brainania, if slighted, will INVADE YOUR LANDS
GO BOOM BOOM BOOM
AND MAKE YOU ALL OUR PATHETIC SLAAAAAAAAAAAAVES.
mr bisck does not like this idea, it seems.
as he rushes off to tell the UN, brain informs pinky that he has
“just created an international incident.”
“oh, thank you, brain.”
“in the words of the immortal yogi bear, this is dejavu all over again.”
so the boys turn up on PUNCHLINE, WITH FRED FLUBBLE.
there he is. “perhaps you gentlemen would care to climb up on the desk?”
they make it, just about.
and sing a fun little song about brainania’s war victories, i guess.
WE WILL FIGHT AND NEVER QUIT
FIND ME A ROOFTOP AND I WILL SPIT. NARF
this is not well recieved by the us military.
unfortunately, as the US press secretary points out, the us cannot go to war with a country it can’t find,
(wuss.)
so instead the mice are invited to dinner at the white house.
“in a few short hours, pinky, we shall have our foreign aid loan, and then the world!”
“birdy birdy birdy! narf!”
“i sense much of this historic moment is lost on you.”
at the white house, a very bored looking individual introduces The Most Exalted Ned Limpopo (feat. hassan lembeck), and bill clinton shakes his hand.
“me number one fella. other fellas number ten. catchy all same same. you savvy?”
“i speak fluent english.”
“eyyyy. haha. sure you do.”
“all brainania ever wanted from the US was friendship. friendship, and fourteen billion dollars and fifty nine cents. the friendship i will treasure. the money i will spend on polo ponies and cruise missiles.”
brain has a brief discussion with hilary clinton over the advantages of strontium ninety versus uranium two-thirty-eight,
bill clinton pulls this face and tells them it Sounds Smart,
and the mice bounce merrily back to mr bisck to get their foreign aid check.
“you better not lose it, buster!!! i just erased your records!! you won’t get another one from me!!!!”
HA.
“one should be enough. thanks and farewell, “
“you niggling bureaucrat.”
conclusion:
upon returning back to brainania, The Most Exalted Ned Limpopo finds a letter from alan addressed to him. it’s also mouse sized, which is adorable. apparently, whanganui,
WHO PROTECTS US FROM EVIL AND WHAT ALL ELSE
is “blinking mad”, and the volcano is going to explode.
brain, obviously, does not believe in whanganui, and is mostly just mad that he’s lost his workforce. still, as pinky points out,
“at least we've still got brainania!”
“i sense life has taken another sardonic twist.”
still, they do, barely, have enough time to reach the shoreline and start swimming away from the imminently exploding volcano. perhaps it should have been, yknow, a pretty decent sign that the natives cleared out. historically, people who live in these places tend to know about them, but what of that when brain is number one guy same same you savvy.
🙄
anyway the karmatic response to all of that previous racism is that a tidal wave sweeps them back onto the volcano,
which then blasts them into space.
(okay not literally space. but they do end up on a little raft in the middle of the ocean. don’t ask me where the raft came from. i have no idea.)
oof.
“mother nature has slammed her unmerciful fist on our fair isle, pinky.”
“do you know what this means?”
“birdy birdy birdy!!!!”
brain does not appreciate Birdy Birdy Birdy.
“blast it, pinky!”
“i said, do you know what this means!!”
“it means you just ripped up our foreign aid cheque.”
one should be enough, huh?
brain: 7 pinky: 7 outside influence: 13
like, i don’t know. maybe pinky shouldn’t have been making oragami birds out of the foreign aid cheque. but, while silly, it’s not like it did any harm. brain.... brain just needs to chill.
“well, aren’t you the tiniest foreigners i’ve had in here all morning. i’m mr appleby, can i help you?”
“yes. we would like to have relations with you. and steal some milk duds.”
“we wish to establish diplomatic relations with the us. i am the prime minister, and this is my minister of finance.”
“brainania--? oh, i remember you. you used to be a.... suburb of prague.”
“can you prove you’re a nation?”
“yes! we have postcards.”
“that’s the fjord of pinky.”
“you foreign folk sure have your own.... queer little ways.”
#patb#pinky and the brain#i did not like this episose much but. i suppose it was like thirty years ago#bizarrely it's actually more respectful to the natives than a lot of cartoons at the time were which is#even worse actually.
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A Little Game
Request: Can you write an imagine for spin the bottle with Felix please 😭❤ the headcanon was so perfect I died🥵😍😍😍 But Felix is more like the violent ruthless second in command so everyone is S H O C K E D when you two actually kiss. (And maybe the other lost girls, if there are any, are even scared of Felix) He doesn't talk much but later approaches you and maybe some smut happens????🤷♀️❤❤❤
Pairings: Felix x reader
Warnings: smut ;)
The night was like any other, lost boys cheered and danced wildly around the roaring flames of the camp fire, the heat of it so strong I could feel it tickle my face. Shouts of happiness and cheers of joy filled my ear as I sat silently on a cold log, watching the boys have their fun while I was at a distance. I was never one for dancing, I would always freeze up or grow embarrassed, worrying about weather I was doing it wrong or if the boys would all start laughing at me.
The sharp sound of a whistle cut through the air, causing everyone to come to a halt.
"Boys." The mischievous, familiar voice of the leader spoke up, "how about we play a game?"
All the boys growled in excitement, cheering and hollering at the thought.
"Truth or dare!"
"Capture the flag!"
“Seven minutes in Haven!”
“Hide and Seek!”
They all started to bombard the brown haired boy with suggestions, desperately trying to come up with a good game to play.
Silently, the tall, dark figure which loomed close to the king turned on his heels, bending down and fishing a shiny object out of the lush green bushes. He rolled it around in his large hand for a while, his jaggard scar seeming to pop of his face like inspiring words from a page in the glow of the fire, lighting up all of his sharp features like Christmas. The elf-like boy turned to him with a dark grin plastered on his face, taking what appeared to be a rum bottle out of the second in commands hand.
"How about spin the bottle," He suggested as the boys eagerly nodded in agreement, "what do you say lost girl? Will you be joining us?"
Without letting a word slip past my lips, I absentmindedly nodded whilst the boys sat in a circle, I got up to join without realizing what I had just gotten myself into.
Not even a second had slipped by before the leader of the rowdy group of lost boys wrapped his fingers around the empty bottle of rum, itching to spin it and find out who it would land on. We all lent in closer, our curious eyes watching the shiny object spin around and around before gradually slowing to a halt, the neck pointing directly at Nick.
Everyone could see the colour visibly drain from the poor lost boys face as he eyed everyone around him, deciding who in his eyes would be the best person to kiss in this situation. That’s when those big, brown eyes scanned over me, his orbs drinking every inch of me up, making the uncomfortable feeling in my stomach grown more and more intense with each passing second. I felt the need to hide my already covered body from his eyes grasp, clutching my cloak in my hands and dragging it over my body even tighter as if it were a barrier, stopping him from having a peak.
“Nick,” Pan clapped his hands, desperately wanting to see how this plays out, “Look’s like you’re up first.”
The lost boy reluctantly took hold of the bottle, flicking his wrist before it spun out of control on the floor in front of us, I could feel his hungry eyes on me. The boys had never tried anything with me before, they were more like protective brothers than they were boyfriend material, but they had also never seen a girl in years.
However, there was one person that intrigued me, the mysterious second in command, he never had much to say, always hiding in Pan’s shadow. I couldn’t stop myself from wondering what this boy was really like, who he really was. It was as if Pan had trapped him in a bottle, never giving him enough time or space to do his own thing outside of his orders and chores other than fight, and trust me he was good at it. He had made a reputation for himself, and not a good one, he was known to be calm most of the time but when provoked all hell would break lose, and God help whoever pisssed him off.
As my mind wondered, so did my eyes. Peering over at the ruthless teenager, I found him already looking in my direction, flashing me a menacing smirk before his icy eyes were once again glued to the moving bottle. Shivers ran up and down my spine at his action, did I do something to upset him?
“David!” A British voice sounded, snapping me out of my thoughts, “Looks like you’re up.”
The boys started to grow more and more excited, shouting and hollering as the two drew nearer to each other before their lips finally touched for a split second. They both recoiled back in disgust, Nick vigorously wiping lips as David continuously spat on the floor.
“Now, who wants to go next?” Pan asked, everyone was silent not wanting to kiss one of their so called brothers.
“I’ll go.” A deep voice sounded from a short distance.
Heads sharply turned to the source of the voice, mouths dropped open and eyes popped out when they saw none other than the second in command reaching for the bottle. The only sound which flooded the island was that of the rum bottle spinning on its side and the silent shock of every living creature that walked upon this lands soil, even Pan, his best friend was at a loss for words.
Everyone’s eyes were still glued to the blonde giant as he watched the bottle spin round and round, his stormy blue eyes were fixated on it, as if it put him under some kind of spell. No one dared to even breath as the bottle began to come to a stop, eager to see who it would land on, but at the same time praying to whatever God there was out there that it wouldn’t land on them.
Before I even realized what was happening, all eyes were on me. The curious look was evident on my face as the lost boys eyes darted from me to the bottle, I felt my blood run cold as my eyes glided towards the second in command.
I knew, deep down I knew Felix would never kiss me, I always had this feeling that he despised me which only made me want to find out more about him. But alas, the jumped up to his feet, stalking closer and closer towards me, I peered into those ice like orbs before he pulled me in. Our lips were introduced to each other as his hand snaked around my waist, it felt like some kind of invisible force was making my fingers tangle themselves in his hair, but I knew I had secretly been hoping for this.
It’s funny, I didn’t expect it to be like this, his lips were warm and soft, welcoming my own with open arms. At first it was strange but after a couple seconds I felt safe for some reason, like I wanted to be there,
He pulled away, I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to pull him back in for another one, but I couldn’t, instead I could feel every ounce of blood in my body rush to my cheeks.
The entire camp was engulfed in silence, no one knowing what to say next as their eyes were glued on the two of us.
“Hey guys!” A drunken Nibs stumbled out of the bushes, carrying a crate full to the brim with bottle and bottles of rum, “Look what I found!”
I let out an audible sigh as all the attention suddenly shifted from me to Nibs, my cheeks were still red from blushing as I felt Felix’s hot breath travel down the nape of my neck, sending shivers to run up and down my spine.
Without thinking, I shot up out of my seat, needing a distraction from what had just happened. I zoomed towards the crate, telling myself that in this moment it was all I needed. I chugged and chugged and chugged, letting to cool liquid pour down my throat, the burn didn’t bother me, I needed a way to cool down and fast.
One by one the lost boys all followed my actions, picking up a bottle for themselves and drinking the night away, liveliness flooded the island once again as laughter filled the air and the boys began to dance around the fire. Sooner or later I found myself sat in a small circle of friends, laughing and drinking, just having a good time, when a certain boy invaded my thoughts.
I would love to tell myself that I quickly forgot about the kiss, but the truth is I couldn’t get it out of my head. The way his lips drew in closer to meet my own caused the blush on my face to intensify, and the way he held me close made me feel -
I need to stop, what am I even thinking? This is Felix we’re on about here, the guy who is supposed to be one of my brothers, but he made me feel so... No.
“I think that’s enough for one night boys,” I spoke, slowly raising to me feet, “I’m off, night.”
A choir of voices followed after me, all sending me off with good residence and wishing me a good nights sleep.
My feet began to plant themselves in the ground, waving goodnight as I absentmindedly walked forwards and.....BAM! Just my luck.
“Sorry I wasn’t-” I started to splutter out an apology as fast as I could.
“It’s okay.” A husky voice replied, causing my blood to run hot with embarrassment, I shot up as if I were standing to attention.
“I-I’m just gonna go to sleep,” I said, practically running away from the situation I was currently in, “Night!”
When I arrived at my tent, I flopped down onto my bed, wanting nothing more then blissful sleep to take over my body, but a lass, it didn’t. I lay there in thought for what felt like an eternity when it actual fact it had been nothing more than a few mere minutes. The clock slowly ticked by as I tried my hardest to push all my thoughts aside, desperately wanting the blonde boy to leave my thoughts but I just couldn’t seem to help myself.
I thought of his smile, his hair, his scar, his laugh, the way his eyes always seemed to light up with joy whenever Pan announced we would be having cake for dessert, the way the called my name in order to capture my attention.
Y/n.
Y/n.
“Y/n.” A deep voice called, my ears instantly perked up, I know who that voice belonged to.
Shock over took my body and before I knew it my tiny frame had rolled off the bed, was that really him? Or was that all in my head?
“Um... are you awake?” He sounded again, concern and slight disappointment coated his words.
“Just a second!” I spoke, hoping that the tall, blonde boy wouldn’t leave, I shot up, fiddling with my hair for what felt like an eternity, wanting to look presentable for him.
I dashed towards the fabric door of my tiny house, pulling it aside to find Felix standing there. His dark cloak hung on his shoulders and wooden club was slung carelessly over his shoulders.
“Hey.” I said, my voice coming out as nothing more than a weak whisper, “What’s up?”
“Um..” He began, his eyes darting everywhere but refusing to meet my own.
This is new, I had never seen the mighty second in command nervous before.
“Well.... I wanted to...” He awkwardly chuckled, scratching the back of his neck, he couldn’t get any words out. Before I knew it I was being pulled towards him by my collar, his fingers tightly gripping the fabric of my cloak before his lips smashed into mine once again.
I seemed to lose myself in him, wanting nothing more than to be right here with him, in this very moment. He pushed me back, walking inside my tent before guiding my small body down. My back hit the soft, welcoming covers as he crawled on top of me, my hands found themselves in his hair, just where they had longed to be all night.
He placed his knee in between my leg, genitally rubbing the area which needed some kind of friction the most. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't stop a small whimper sounding from my lips. I could feel him smirking as he deepened the kiss, leaning into me more and more as if he were trying to trap me, making sure I would be there with him for as long as I could.
His rough hands snaked all over my body, exploring, finding out the places I liked to be touched the most. In one swift movement my cloak was torn off my body in power hungry lust, leaving me completely exposed in front of him.
I could feel his ice cold eyes roll over my exposed skin, causing goose-bump to form all over my arms and legs.
“There’s no need to be nervous,” He said, his voice coming out as a mere whisper, “Yo’re beautiful.”
Light pink dust coated my cheeks as the words left his lips, there no way he could really think that, I must be sweaty from all of the training I had to do that day and I hadn’t had enough time to wash some of the dirt off my face. Yet the second in command couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off me, drinking up the sight of my body as if he were addicted.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” He spoke before attaching his lips to my neck leaving a trail of sweet, slopping kisses all the way down to my collarbone.
Tiny pants and gasps slipped passed my rosy lips as the sucked and bit down on all the right places, ”Felix.”
As soon as his name was moaned into the night sky, something inside him snapped, as if the beast which lurked inside had just been let out of it’s cage.
He sat up, slipping off whatever clothes he had left on, leaving little to nothing to the imagination. He wasn’t lanky, which I expected him to be, toned muscles clung to his arms and back, I had to fight the urge to physically drool over him.
It was as if I were in a trance, completely captivated by his body, I didn’t even realize his hands reaching out towards me before his long fingers were suddenly wrapped around my neck. It was a slightly uncomfortable feeling, but not one I was apposed to.
It made me feel as though I was completely and utterly dominated by him, I felt like I should do everything he told me, I wanted to do everything he told me.
His hard cock pressed against my leg and I could feel the smirk on my face grow as I teased him, stroking his length. I could see it in his face that if I carried on any more sweet grunts of ecstasy would come tumbling out of his mouth, the though of that only made my temptation intensify.
Felix bit his lip, letting out sighs of happiness as he threw his head back, incoherent whispered sounded from his mouth.
“Fuck.” The second in command whispered, grabbing my shoulder and quickly flipping me over so that I lay on top of him. His eager hands flew to my hair, slightly pushing me further and further down his body.
I smiled happily as I sank down to the place I wanted to be the most, taking his long member into my hand, I licked a long stripe all the way up from the base to the tip before taking as much of him as I could in my mouth. Sucking and swirling my tongue around the tip until my name frequently fell from his lips.
“Y/n,” That and the prominent sound of slurping was the only thing that filled the air.
I took his cock in between my teeth, slowly, but carefully pulling my head back as I peered into his cold, blue eyes.
When I was done I crawled back up, catching his lips on mine once more, like we had done so many times this night. I straddled him, grinding my wet pussy on his hard member before positioning him at my entrance.
A loud moan escaped my lips as I lowered myself onto him, it took no effort for him to fill me up completely.
Slowly, my hips started to grind as deep moans filled the room, his fingernails dug into the flesh on my thighs, only making me wetter. Once I had adjusted to up, I began to bounce up and down as I threw my head back in pleasure, his lips found themselves playing with my nipples, sucking and biting as I moaned into the night sky.
“Um, Felix.” Was the only thing I could say at this moment in time, no other words came to mind, only him.
My thrust grew sloppy and legs grew weak, I was tired but I couldn’t bring myself to stop, not when I was so close to tipping over the edge.
“Getting tired?” He breathy asked with a smirk on his lips.
My blushing face nodded in response, “I’m so close.” I moaned.
Without warning the second in command grabbed my arms, forcing me to stop. He positioned himself at my entrance, dipping his tip in and out of me before going in all the way hitting all the right places.
“Felix, Felix, Felix.” I said, wanting him, needing him, practically begging for my release.
It wasn’t long before all my juices were coating him, which triggered his own undoing. I could feel his seed slowly drip out of my as I lay down beside him.
Neither of us said anything for a while, just sitting in comfortable silence before I started to drift off into blissful sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yo, I know I said I would post every satarday (and I will!) shits been kinda wack😂, I did promise you guys an explanation and you will get one either today or tomorrow, I promise! ❤
I know its monday, don't worry I'm already writing more so you'll still get a story on Satarday! 🙃
This us also one of my longest stories!! I'm so proud! 🥰
I love you all and I'm so sorry!! 💚💗💓💞💕💘💝❣💔💖
#lost girl#fanfic#ouat season 3#ouat ff#ff#peter pan#felix x reader#ouat fanfiction#ouat fic#neverland#ouat pan fan fiction#ouat pan fan fic#ouat pan#ouat peter pan ff#ouat peter imagine#ouat peter pan fan fiction#ouat peter pan#ouat fan fic#ouat fan fiction#ouat fandom#ouat felix#ouat felix imagine#felix ouat#ouat neverland
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