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luvdsc · 4 years ago

Text

doing the bf tag with my bf.

hey, siri, does bf stand for best friend or boyfriend? (or both?)

pairing :: na jaemin x reader genre :: fluff / best friend + youtuber au word count :: 4,691 words warnings :: none playlist :: mean it (lauv & lany) ⋆ always, i’ll care (jeremy zucker) ⋆ fearless (taylor swift) ⋆ fingers crossed (coin) ⋆ cardiac arrest (bad suns) author’s note :: this fic is a tiny bit different than my usual writing because i emphasize more on dialogue than description in order to mimic a youtube video. happy birthday to this absolute darling angel! you have the biggest heart in the universe, and thank you for sharing so much of it with the world ♡ ↳ part of the not clickbait series.

Your subscribers have always wondered if you would do this type of video countless of times, and you never thought you’d ever actually record one due to the state of your love life (or lack thereof), yet here you are.

Unfortunately, the romantic department of your life still remains very much empty though. But lucky for you, so is your best friend’s. And that pretty much works out perfectly because he could stand in for your nonexistent boyfriend in order to complete the popular GF/BF tag (along with a hidden challenge that was popular by demand and personally requested by a certain friend with a flair for baking. Now if only the frantic butterflies in your stomach would settle down just enough for you to do it).

After all, BF could stand for either boyfriend or best friend, right?

It’s also no secret that yours and Jaemin’s subscribers shipped you two together either. Heck, you may be a little delusional as well because you ship yourself with your best friend, too. Blame the massive crush you’ve been secretly harboring. But two best friends sharing an apartment and frequently appearing in videos on each of your respective channels? In the eyes of your fans, that’s basically the perfect setup for a modern day love story.

It would 100% be the greatest love story since Kat and Patrick in 10 Things I Hate About You, but at this point in your life, your story is going to be marked down as a tragedy. You feel even more hopeless and dramatic than Romeo was about his unrequited love for Rosaline. Also, that dude got over her way too quickly at the sight of another pretty girl. You wish that would happen for you, too, but your heart is much too stubborn over Jaemin.

When you had asked him if he would do the video with you, Jaemin immediately agreed much to your initial surprise. The publicity would be good though, you surmise later on, and both our fan bases would grow, so of course, he would agree. It’s not like your best friend liked you back. That would be absolutely absurd.

“Are you ready?” Jaemin speaks up, breaking your train of thought, and you’re slightly startled. He plops down in the plush pink rolling chair next to you, the chair moving back a few inches. He scooches it closer to your own chair, buzzing with excitement. You smile at your best friend, pushing down the butterflies erupting in your stomach. You nod before reaching forward and pressing the record button on the camera set up in front of you. You pull up the list of questions on your phone.

“Yeah, let's do this.”

How did we meet?

“Oh, this is an easy question,” Jaemin says, flashing his award winning smile at the camera before he throws his arm around you happily, hugging you affectionately. “It was freshman year. You ran into me. Literally. We were in the same class, and it just ended. You were trying to shove your textbook into your bag and didn’t notice where you were walking until you face-planted into my back.”

The memory is still fresh in your mind, and you remember how you had already resigned yourself to your fate of becoming good friends with the floor. But Lady Luck was on your side for once, and she sent an angel in the form of Na Jaemin to save you from embarrassment on your first day of university.

“Yeah, I almost fell flat on my butt, but luckily, Nana has great reflexes and when he turned around, he grabbed my arm before I hit the ground,” you add on, still squished into his side. He beams, eyes crinkling into half moon crescents before placing a kiss on your cheek and turning back to the camera.

Your heart skips a beat, but you ignore it. Jaemin has always been affectionate, and kisses were all in good fun. You continue on, plastering a nonchalant smile on your face. “And he said, ‘Looks like you just fell for me.’ And then he insisted that we get lunch together.”

“And the rest is history!” he exclaims happily, resting his cheek on the top of your head. You smile fondly before going onto the next question.

Where was our first date?

“The dining hall immediately after you ran into me.”

“That wasn’t a date,” you interject. “We can skip this question since we aren’t dating.”

Jaemin shrugs, waiting for you to read the next question. He murmurs faintly under his breath, “It was supposed to be one.”

We’re going out to eat, where are we going?

Jaemin answers immediately, leaning back in his chair. “The little pizza place down the block! They always make three different types of unique pizza everyday, and once they sell out, they close for the day.”

“We always go on Wednesday because they make both of our favorite pizzas then.” You chime in, and he nods enthusiastically, moving closer to the front and throwing his hands up in the air for emphasis. “They have corn and potato pizza that day!”

You wrinkle your nose slightly before leaning towards the camera. “To my subscribers, for the record, I assure you that I have better taste than that, and I love the artichoke pesto pizza with ricotta.”

What food do I dislike?

“... Corn and potato pizza,” he says reluctantly with a pout. “And kiwis. The outside is furry and creeps you out, and the fruit makes your tongue itch.”

You flash a thumbs up at the camera, and your best friend grins, puffing up his chest. Chuckling quietly, you shake your head before answering the question yourself. “And this dork absolutely hates anything strawberry flavored. And he’s lactose intolerant, so dairy is his enemy.”

“I love cheese, but cheese hates me,” he says mournfully, hanging his head down low before he jumps back up and reads the following question listed on your phone’s screen aloud.

Who is my best friend?

“Me!” Jaemin shouts gleefully, throwing his hands up in the air, and you can’t help but laugh, grinning widely at your best friend, a fond expression on your face.

“You.”

Am I a morning person or a night person?

“We’re both night people,” you say, and Jaemin nods in agreement. “You won’t catch either of us waking up before noon if we can’t help it, and we each have to set up like five alarms just to wake up.”

“It works out because we can stay up together watching movies or editing our videos,” he adds in, turning to you and smiling fondly. “And I always have a partner when I want to go on a midnight snack run to the convenience store nearby.”

Do we have a song? What is it?

“Jeremy Zucker’s Always, I’ll Care.”

“That’s our song?” You’re surprised. You were going to mention one of the go-to karaoke songs the two of you liked to belt out on the top of your lungs after a movie and wine night. Jaemin makes a great Sharpay Evans when you both want to bop to the top.

“It’s the song that reminds me of you,” he says, voice growing softer as he reaches the end of the sentence. Curse your heart for melting into a puddle. His cheeks turn pink under your gaze, and he becomes uncharacteristically shy, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“Anyway, what’s the next question?”

What’s my nickname?

“Nana!” You reach out to poke his cheek, and he puffs them up before pouting at you. He reaches out and pinches your cheek.

“I call you ‘angel’ sometimes. It’s why your channel is called peachyangel.”

What's my weirdest habit?

“Jaemin eats way too much cilantro,” you state, swinging around side to side in your rolling chair.

“I do not!” he protests loudly, and you give him a blank stare. The two of you sit there in silence, not breaking eye contact until he finally relents.

“Okay, maybe I do. But you pour cereal before milk!”

“That’s not a weird habit!” You defend yourself. You are appalled at your best friend. Neither of you have ever woken up early enough for breakfast, so this has never come up before. If you would’ve known this in the past, maybe you wouldn’t be so ridiculously in love with him in the present.

“Yes, it is! Your cereal gets all soggy that way!”

“Only idiots pour their milk first!”

He clutches his heart dramatically. “Are you calling me an idiot?!”

“... So moving onto the next question—”

What do you think I’m talented at?

“Making people fall in love with you,” Jaemin blurts out, and your eyes widen at his answer as your grip on your phone loosens considerably.

“I—I mean, you’re just so approachable, and you’re kind to everyone. You care so much about everyone and everything. People feel comfortable around you, they always gravitate towards you, and you just— I don’t know, you make people feel loved,” he explains, unable to meet your eyes, and his cheeks darken. He fiddles around with the loose strand on his sweater sleeve.

Your heart swells ten times bigger and beats faster than ever. You wonder if Jaemin knows he has the same effect on everyone, too. You hope he does.

You wonder if he knows you’re in love with him and if he would love you back. You hope he does.

When was the first time you said “I love you” to me?

“Uh, we can skip this one, too,” you say awkwardly, but he throws his arm around your shoulder again, hugging you tightly. “Nope, not skipping! I have the answer to this one!”

He grins toothily at the camera before pinching your cheek for a second time affectionately. “I said ‘I love you’ when you showed up at my dorm and brought me pop tarts at three in the morning after I accidentally drunk texted you, instead of Jeno. That’s when I knew you were a keeper.”

“I did that because I felt bad about throwing up on your shoes at the party we went to the weekend before that,” you mumble, face growing warm when you remember your best friend’s drunken confession a few years back. “Besides, you were drunk. It doesn’t count.”

“Okay, fine, but we say it to each other all the time. The second time I said it was when you brought me chicken nuggets, and I was hungover, but sober.” He says, spinning in his chair.

“I can see the pattern now. You say it when I bring you food,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest with a fake pout. “You love food, not me.”

“That’s not true!” he exclaims, halting mid spin and facing you. He turns your chair towards him, moving forward to clutch both of your hands in his, and stares directly into your eyes seriously. “I love you.”

You inaudibly gulp, helplessly gazing back at him as you feel your face begin to burn, your heart speeding up in your chest. Jaemin grins, leaning back and letting go of your hand. “See? I love you!”

“Y-yeah.” You swallow hard, fumbling over your words. “You love me.”

What is your favorite thing about me?

“Your laugh,” Jaemin replies honestly, reaching out and absentmindedly drawing circles on the back of your hand as he looks at you. “Hyuck told me the other day that whenever I try to do something funny or make a joke, I have a habit of turning towards you for your reaction. It makes me kinda proud that I can make you laugh.”

You know that you’re stupidly grinning like an absolute idiot at this point, but you don’t care. You even almost forget about the camera.

“Your smile,” you answer, maintaining eye contact with him. Your smile widens when you see one appear on his face, his eyes shining brightly. “You have the prettiest smile, and I’m grateful that I’m able to see it everyday or be the cause of it sometimes.”

What film always makes me cry?

“Oh, The Lion King.” Jaemin responds automatically. “We both cry our eyes out at the stampede moment and when Simba tells his dad to wake up.”

“When we saw the live action version together, we brought along a ton of tissues with us, and he used almost all of them.”

What drink do I always order?

“Jaemin is crazy and always gets a venti iced americano with no water and eight espresso shots. He used to drink it six times a day until I yelled at him about it,” you say, shaking your head at the camera before glancing over at your best friend. “It’s seriously bad for your health.”

His lips jut out into a pout as he whines, “You wouldn't let me cuddle with you until I changed it!”

“It was for your own good! Plus, that drink tasted like battery acid!” You exclaim, and he sulks quietly before begrudgingly agreeing. You pat his head in consolation, and he grabs your hand, naturally interlocking your fingers with his.

“I drink it less now and with only two and half shots.”

If I could, what candy could I eat all day long?

“Chocolate,” you blurt out immediately. “Jaemin is a chocolate fanatic. But he’ll take anything with sugar. He has such a sweet tooth. He eats brown sugar when he’s bored. Even his boba drink has 100% sugar.”

“It’s as sweet as you.” Jaemin winks at you exaggeratingly, and you roll your eyes, turning your face away slightly to hide the smile that begins to spread across your face.

“Y/N likes matcha green tea Kit Kats.” He leans closer to the camera, peering into the lens in a serious manner. “If any chocolate companies are watching this, we are both open to sponsorships.”

If I could live anywhere in the world, where would I live?

“Here,” Jaemin says confidently, beaming at you, “You’d want to live here with me. And I want to live here, too. Because this is the bestest place in the world.” He hesitates, faltering for a moment before searching your eyes. “Right?”

Who are you to say no to that?

You smile at him. “Right.”

What am I deathly afraid of?

“You’re afraid of spiders,” he announces, “You make me take care of all the spiders in the apartment.”

“Yeah, it’s the only reason I keep you around,” you say casually, and he gasps, insulted. You give him a cheeky smile. “I’m just kidding.”

He scowls at you, lips pulled into a frown. “You better be.”

What is the first thing that I do in the morning?

“Jaemin is never awake before I am,” you inform the camera, crossing your legs. “I have to wake him up first if we go anywhere.”

“Even if you don’t have to go to an event, you still wake up early to make sure I’m awake, so I won’t be late. So that’s what you do first thing in the morning: wake me up.” Jaemin nudges your leg. “You always come into my room as a blanket burrito with your comforter wrapped around you.”

“That’s because I have to face the treacherous cold to make sure you aren’t late to your events. But you still end up late anyway because you drag me down onto your bed and refuse to let me go until we lay there for twenty minutes,” you grumble, pulling up your legs onto your chair and wrapping your arms around your knees.

“Cuddling is a good way to conserve body heat and start the morning,” Jaemin states, waving his arms around to emphasize his point.

“Really? Do studies show that it’s beneficial to cuddle in the morning?”

“I don’t know.” Jaemin shrugs, making a noncommittal noise. He smiles at you, causing your stomach to do flip flops and your heart to do cartwheels. “But it makes me happy every morning, so I’d say that’s enough proof.”

Who usually wins our arguments?

“Y/N does,” Jaemin sighs heavily, leaning back against his chair in resignation. “You always win.”

“It’s true.” You nod, patting Jaemin’s arm consolingly. “It’s tough always being right, but someone has to do it.”

“You always pout, too, and I just give in because you’re too cute,” he says casually, and you freeze in your seat. Never mind the fact that he’s implying you’re wrong, Na Jaemin just called you cute.

Good thing this is caught on camera because this means you can secretly watch this multiple times in private. And also cringe over your awkward reaction, but let’s not talk about that right now because once again, Jaemin just called you cute. You! Cute! Jaemin! Your mind is honestly short circuiting, and you can’t do anything, except nod and smile like a complete fool.

What do we usually argue about?

“Adopting,” Jaemin says solemnly. Eyes widening, you wait for a moment, but he offers no explanation. You lightly shove his chair, and he rolls a few inches away. “Nana, you can't just end it like that! You have to say more than that!”

Turning towards the camera, you hurriedly explain, “He’s talking about pets. He wants to adopt five dogs and name them after Jisung, Chenle, Jeno, Renjun, and Mark. And then he wants to adopt a snake and name it after Donghyuck.”

“She said we could only get one dog and the snake.” Jaemin scowls, slumping in his seat as he stares into the camera. “I can’t believe she isn’t letting me get five dogs. I love Jisung and all non-Jisung’s equally.”

What’s my favorite clothing item?

“It’s not even yours. You always steals my white hoodie. I haven’t been able to wear it for the past month,” Jaemin complains, and you have the decency to look a little guilty.

You play with the strings of said hoodie that’s currently engulfing your body, curling into yourself as you tuck your face into the sweater like a turtle. “Your clothes smell nice.”

“But we use the same laundry detergent.” Jaemin wrinkles his eyebrows, confusion evident in his eyes. “All our clothes smell like snuggles and cotton.”

“It’s not the same,” you insist, wrinkling your nose, and he shakes his head, lips curling into a smile. He reaches over and tugs the hood of the sweater over your head playfully.

“Okay, whatever you say, angel. You look better in them than me anyway.”

Where am I on a Friday night?

“You’re here with me, eating Chinese take out and watching Criminal Minds,” you answer, and he agrees, nodding.

“We just finished watching all twelve seasons on Netflix, so if anyone has any show recommendations, please send them in!”

What is my weirdest interest?

“Once again, my clothes,” Jaemin says, and you begin to protest but he wags his finger at you. “No, no, no, you don’t get to disagree! You hoarded like six of my sweaters in your closet. I bought you the exact same sweater for your birthday, but you still take mine!”

You silently decide that it is better to accept this defeat than correct him because you actually have seven of his sweaters and a few tee shirts as well.

Who’s my favorite YouTuber?

“Me!” Jaemin’s hand shoots up in the air. “I’m your favorite YouTuber. Next question.”

Your hands start to get clammy as you look down at the final question you have been saving for last. It’s been a good fifteen minutes, and the butterflies still haven’t subsided. If anything, they seem to have multiplied and transformed into a whole rampaging zoo complete with elephants and monkeys.

“Uh, are you sure about that, Nana? ShowMeTheMonet is really good. I also really like itsmebetch a lot.” You stall for time, staring at the last question until the words are stamped in your mind. “Dream Unsolved and Worth It are amazing, too.”

Suddenly, Jaemin is right in front of you as he spins your chair around to face him, frowning and complaining, “What do you mean I’m not your favorite? You’re my favorite! What kind of best friend are you? This is a betrayal! An insult! This is worse than Jisung not calling me his favorite! How could you do this to m—”

“Okay, okay, you’re my favorite! I’m sorry! It was a joke,” you interrupt, but he turns away from you, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No, go make a video with ShowMeTheMonet instead.” He sulks, shoulders hunched over. “If you like her so much, go be best friends with her.”

“I’m sorry! I’ll buy you all the chocolate you want after this,” you plead with him, placing your phone on the table next to you. “I’ll even buy you boba everyday for a week!”

Jaemin brightens up at that immediately. “Oh, yeah! I want some milk tea after this! Okay, what’s the last question?”

You swallow hard, nervously fiddling with the hoodie strings once more and shoving all the butterflies down to the pit of your stomach. Twisting in your seat, you move your chair and spin his around until you’re both facing each other, knees touching.

“‘Where and when was our first kiss?’”

At the immediate thought of kissing you, his cheeks explode in various shades of pink, the tips of his ears catching fire. He’d be lying if he said he hasn’t thought about kissing you daily. Heck, he had to stop himself from doing so earlier when you were burying your face in his stolen hoodie. It’s so unfair that you’re always so cute and looking so… so… kissable.

“I, uh, I don’t think I can answer that,” your best friend stammers out as his eyes dart towards your lips before meeting yours.

“But you got all the other answers right.” Your voice comes out steadier than you thought it would, and you mentally pat yourself on the back. Gnawing on your bottom lip, you pause for a moment, balling your hands into fists before uncurling them and asking hesitantly, “Should I help you out?”

“Yes.” He wonders how exactly you can help him out. Oh god, did he kiss you before when he was drunk? But you would’ve told him if he did that. What if he had ki—

A soft pair of lips lands on his.

You’re kissing him. Oh my god, you’re kissing him! Jaemin wants to jump up and shout it from the rooftops. His heart leaps from his chest, and he’s wildly cheering in his mind as fireworks explode around him before he suddenly remembers that he has to kiss you back.

And so he does.

Jaemin tugs you closer until you’re pulled onto his lap, a muffled squeak of surprise coming from you, and he laughs as he presses his lips against yours more firmly, hands gripping your thighs as you straddle him. Your arms loop around his neck, and your heart ricochets in your chest as you kiss him back until your lungs are screaming for oxygen and you have to pull away.

Jaemin positively beams at you, eyes sparkling as he leans forward and nuzzles his nose against yours affectionately. He laughs breathlessly, resting his forehead against yours. “Yeah, that was really helpful. Our first kiss just happened right here a few seconds ago. And now, our second kiss is about to happen.”

Your best friend closes the distance, crashing his lips against yours once more, and you kiss him back just as fervently, smiling against his lips as he does the same. Never in either of your wildest dreams did you think this was going to happen, but you sure as heck aren’t complaining, and neither is he.

When the two of you finally break apart, you bury your face into the crook of his neck, flustered, and Jaemin laughs giddily, cheeks flushed and eyes twinkling. He hugs you tightly to his chest before nudging you to look up at him. “So did I get a 100% on the boyfriend tag?”

“Yes,” you say, sitting up straight on his lap and grabbing both of his hands in each of your own, intertwining your fingers with his. “You got twenty five out of twenty five. Congratulations on your perfect score.”

“Technically, you did do the boyfriend tag with your boyfriend then, right?” he says slyly, squeezing your fingers. “Shouldn’t I get some bonus points for helping you do the tag correctly?”

You chuckle, failing to contain your smile. “Okay, fine, you get bonus points, too. You did an A plus job, Nana.”

“I’ll take those bonus points in the form of kisses.” He puckers his lips at you, and you easily comply, wordlessly leaning forward to give him one, two, three kisses.

Jaemin grins at you, positively delighted before he attacks you with kisses, peppering soft kisses onto your cheeks, forehead, chin, the tip of your nose, and everywhere else in between until he finally kisses your lips gently.

If this was a cartoon, there would be hearts floating around his head and shooting from his eyes. He leans forward again to kiss you one more time for good measure. You smile mischievously, tilting your head to the side slightly as your hands curl around his shirt. “Are you sure there’s nothing else you want for your bonus points?”

His eyebrows furrow for a split second before his entire face lights up. Jaemin carefully cradles you, picking you up as his grip tightens under your thighs. You let out a quiet squeal, wrapping your arms around his neck, as he stands up enthusiastically.

“Cut the cameras!”

One new notification: peachyangel uploaded a new video!

nana ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ commented:

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH ANGEL 🥺💗💞💖💗🤩💝💕💜🤧💖💘😭💘🌼💐🥺💖🥺🥺🥺

peachyangel replied: ily too baby 🥺🤧💖💖

insert goofy’s chuckle commented:

is this allowed?? there are minors here 😫 jisung look away

peachyangel replied: get your mind out of the gutter, ya nasty 🙄 we turned off the cam because he wanted to go get milk tea

jisung pwark replied: I’m 18!!!!! Stop treating me like a child!!!

ghosts are real so suck it hyuck replied: @ jisung pwark stop making me cut the crusts off of your sandwiches then

big head king replied: @ ghosts are real so suck it hyuck how come you don’t cut the crusts off of my sandwiches 😭😭

ghosts are real so suck it hyuck replied: @ big head king because you are a grown adult and jeno already does it for you

jenojam commented:

congrats jaemin!! :)

Starbucks Official commented:

we would love to sponsor you, Mr. Na!

FIGHTING HAEYADWAE commented:

OH YOU ARE NANA!!1!1!!! 🤯🤯

ShowMeTheMonet commented:

um hello i would love to do the gf tag with you! i accept!!! it would be an honor 🤩

peachyangel replied: omg yes!!!! 🥺🥺 let’s do it soon 💖

insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ nana ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ did… did we just lose our gfs 🤧

mork lee rawr xD commented:

hahaha nice guys ! this was really cute haha

ty track commented:

the babies are all growing up too fast ):

jeno is my favorite commented:

.... i feel so single @.@

DonutKillMyVibe commented:

let it be known that I was the friend who challenged @ peachyangel to do the challenge and hence, I am the reason these two are together 👀👀

ghosts are real so suck it hyuck commented:

someone should make an updated version of that jaemin complaining video compilation with this

big head king commented:

ayyy you all are the GOAT 🐐🐐🐐

jenojam commented:

so are we just gonna let it slide when he called everyone except jisung “non jisungs” ?

jisung pwark replied: 😎😎

insert goofy’s chuckle commented:

is no one gonna comment on how he called me a snake?????

ghosts are real so suck it hyuck replied: @ insert goofy’s chuckle is no one gonna comment on how much of a clown hyuck is???

insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ ghosts are real so suck it hyuck wtf? where did this even come from

ghosts are real so suck it hyuck replied: @ insert goofy’s chuckle sorry I thought we were stating the obvious here

big head king replied: LOLOLOL

apado gwenchana god commented:

nice 😎👍🏻

3K notes · View notes

angelofthequeers · 4 years ago

Text

Bullseye

Rating: T

Summary: Nino's invited his friends for a nice night of darts with him and his father. Nothing could possibly go wrong...right?

Slot: 1-2.5k fic

Written for an anonymous donator for the @mlbforblm drive as a pool request! The donations go directly to Color of Change, an organisation for racial justice, and don’t pass through our hands at all. I’ve still got slots open, so come and commission me or another of the amazing contributors!

AO3 link

“I can’t believe you guys agreed to this,” Nino says as he follows his father Mehdi into the small building, Alya’s fingers linked with his. Marinette and Adrien trail behind, murmuring to each other about something to do with roofs and picnics, but Nino doesn’t pay them much mind because short of being secret superheroes, there’s not much they can do about a rooftop picnic. Hmm. Maybe he should ask Ladybug for their Miraculouses and take Alya on a rooftop picnic one night. Alya’s always loved leaping and sprinting through the city, with the wind streaming through her bushy brown ponytail, and his stomach flutters at the memory of Rena Rouge’s impish grin during their flirtatious banter, while Chat Noir turns his charms on Ladybug, and she facepalms –

“Like we were gonna leave you to deal with this by yourself,” Alya’s saying when Nino finally manages to drag himself back down to earth. “You’ve helped me babysit the little demons so many times. What’s one night of darts?”

“Trust me, dude, after this, you’ll be begging for a whole week with E-squared,” Nino says. Alya rolls her eyes at his nickname for her sisters, but her mouth twitches so he figures he’s not in too much trouble. “He reckons he’s the next Phil Taylor.”

“That doesn’t seem so bad,” Adrien pipes up.

“Do you wanna know how many times he doesn’t hit the dart board? And then says that he’s just waiting for his lucky break?”

“…Oh.”

The pub is small and brightly lit without being overwhelming, giving it a nice, cosy air that always leaves Nino in a good mood even with his father acting like he’s two seconds away from representing France in the Olympics. The bartender waves at them as they head for the little party of fellow darts club members near the darts board, weaving between tables – or, in Marinette’s case, being piggybacked by Adrien as though they’re in a minefield, so that she doesn’t trip and cause a minor earthquake with her clumsiness. Though Marinette’s scowling rather grumpily, Nino’s certain that she’s not actually mad at being carried; not when it’s Adrien who’s carrying her, without treating her like a fragile porcelain doll.

“Nino!” Beefy Henri grins and holds out a fist for Nino to bump. “Brought some fresh meat, eh?”

“Yeah.” Nino laughs and scratches the back of his head with his free hand. “This is my girl, Alya. And the two behind us are Adrien and Marinette.”

“We wanted to see the next Phil Taylor for ourselves,” Alya says, nudging Nino. Henri eyes Mehdi, who’s chatting up a storm with the other club members, and snorts.

“You’ll be waiting a while then, girlie,” he says. Alya smirks.

“Good thing I plan on sticking around for a while, then.”

Oh. Nino’s stomach flutters at the implication of Alya’s words. God, how he loves this girl.

“Darts!” Mehdi holds up a dart and turns to face the teens. “How about we give the guests of honour first go?”

“Um, I think I’ll just watch,” Marinette says with a nervous laugh. Mehdi shakes his head.

“Nonsense!”

“But I’m –”

“Come on and let the master show you!”

Marinette shoots a wide-eyed look at Nino, then gulps and approaches Mehdi, while Adrien sidles over to stand with Nino, Alya, and Henri near the board. Nino instinctively takes a step away. He loves Marinette, he really does, but there’s no way he’s going to entrust her with his safety when she’s got a sharp object in her hands.

“Remember that it’s all in the movement,” Mehdi says. “Feet apart!”

Marinette visibly resigns herself to her fate and spreads her feet. Mehdi pauses with his hands just above her shoulders until she nods, then guides her so that she’s side-on from the dartboard with her right foot forward.

“Now, make sure you’re holding the barrel.”

“The what?”

In response, Mehdi positions Marinette’s fingers around the barrel of the dart, then lifts her right arm so that her forearm is at a square angle to her face.

“Don’t hold it too tight,” Mehdi says. “Just take aim…and shoot!”

Right before Marinette releases the dart, a feeling of cold foreboding washes over Nino; the kind of foreboding that one gets when their life is about to flash before their eyes. He jumps back behind Henri and pulls Alya with him, leaving poor Adrien as the unsuspecting sacrifice who’s grinning and cheering Marinette on as she squares her shoulders and then throws with determination.

THOCK.

Alya’s hands fly up to cover her mouth, muffling her choked gasp, while Nino’s eyes bulge out of his head. Every other person in the room is deathly silent. Hell, a white-faced Marinette doesn’t even look like she’s breathing.

“Oh my god,” she whispers. “Oh my god!”

“What?” says Adrien, while everyone else stares at him. Nino’s about two seconds from asking if there’s a Unicorn Miraculous, because if he had to think of a piece of magic jewellery for Adrien right now, that’d be his pick.

“You’ve –” Nino numbly gestures to his own head. “You’ve got –”

Adrien just blinks and frowns. How he can’t feel the dart that’s sticking out of his forehead, Nino has no bloody clue. Alya, meanwhile, is shaking as though she can’t decide whether to laugh or freak out. Probably the latter, considering that she hasn’t even pulled out her phone to snap pictures.

“Um,” Mehdi says. “This isn’t what I –”

“Oh my god, it’s in your forehead!” Marinette shrieks. Adrien blinks again and reaches up to fumble for the dart sticking out of the skin of his brow.

“Huh,” he says. “So it is.”

That seems to be Alya’s breaking point; she bursts into hysterical laughter and doubles over, clutching at one of the tables for support. Nino’s unsure whether he’ll ever feel anything again other than the dumbstruck numbness currently settling on him, while Marinette’s face is turning a nice shade of green à la Carapace’s suit.

“Dude,” Nino says. “How the hell are you fine?”

Adrien shrugs. “I can’t even feel it, to be honest. I’ve had worse.”

“Oh, I bet you have!” Marinette shrieks at him. She storms over and jabs a finger at his chest. “I’m sure one measly dart is nothing to you!”

Adrien grins in an uncanny imitation of Chat Noir’s smirk. “Hey, if you wanted to prick me, all you had to do was –”

Marinette yanks the dart out of Adrien’s head and then tugs him clean over her shoulder. “Sorry to cut this short,” she says to Nino, suddenly dead calm except for the way her right eye is twitching. “Adrien and I have some things to discuss. I’m sorry for ruining your night, Mr Lahiffe.”

Alya collapses to the ground as her laughter redoubles.

“Ruined?” Mehdi says, grinning despite the dark skin beneath his beard still holding an ashen hue. Now that they’re sure Adrien’s okay, the atmosphere of the group is lightening to one of mirth rather than horror. “I hardly think you ruined it. That’s the funniest thing I’ve seen in, well…I don’t remember.”

“Mehdi really is the next Phil Taylor compared to this young lady,” says another club member – Adeline – and then the room is full of explosive laughter. Adrien just looks back over Marinette’s shoulder and grins and salutes, and Nino almost chokes on his own saliva trying not to laugh, because Marinette will skin him alive if he encourages her boyfriend’s idiocy.

“Looks like Adrien and I are going to bounce,” Marinette says almost serenely. “Sorry to ditch you and Alya.”

“I don’t think Alya really cares at the moment, dude,” Nino says, eyeing his hysterical girlfriend. “Just, uh, make sure my bro’s still in one piece?”

Marinette smiles. “Oh, of course. Have a good night, Nino.” Then she’s deftly navigating through the maze of bar tables with Adrien still over her shoulder, smirking back at Nino, like she hadn’t been the one carried on Adrien’s back on the way in to avoid a disaster. It’s like she’s got an alter-ego who’s taken over right now, to be honest.

“Man, I need a drink,” Nino mumbles, wishing that he wasn’t still two years below the age limit. Between this and his moonlighting as a human turtle every now and then with his furry fox girlfriend, there’s probably not much more that life could throw at him from here on. But he’s got no doubt that it’ll try its best.

#miraculous ladybug #aotq fic #mlbforblm #nino lahiffe #alya cesaire #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #djwifi #adrinette #humor #adrien is an idiot #but we love him for it #clumsy marinette strikes again #nino is a lovestruck dumdum

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immabethehero · 4 years ago

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Egotober #2

I made an Egotober story based on the prompt Stone! Thank @huffletrax for organizing event! Also thanks to @anneliis18 for kind of inspiring it? IDK I saw your art and suddenly had to write. IDK if you want to be tagged though. I’ll untag if you don’t.

TWs: Nothing too big, but mild manipulation (mentioned) and death (though it’s a red card) This also deals with a bit of ego shipping, so if you’re uncomfortable maybe don’t read this then.

“Come on! I know a place where we can rest!” The young girl, no more than 18, drags the magician up the barren hill by the arm. Marvin the Magnificent, too shocked and disoriented to comprehend his surroundings and too exhausted to complain, follows her up the hill, where only one willow tree lays. Its leaves have disappeared, leaving only grey branches and small icicles. Underneath its limp, deadweight limbs stand three statues as grey and still as the wasteland around them.

All around the highest hill, the valley is nothing but rocky terrain on uneven grounds. Trees barren of leaves show their sharp branches off, as if hoping to scare the intruders away.

The girl kneels down on the floor and flips her book open. She quickly scans over the text. Everything is in place. Now for the spell to be cast.

She turns to the statues. They’re as lifeless as rock, but she knows there’s still life in them. Chase reaches out in mid-scream. Henrik glares, eyes fierce and hands curled into fists, refusing to show any fear as he was turned. Jameson’s eyes are closed, resigned to his fate.

She turns around and faces Marvin. The magician has crashed onto the ground, eyes threatening to droop. Despite his sleepy state, his posture is impeccable. Slowly, he blinks away his fatigue and looks around, taking in the valley for the first time. He turns and notices the statues for the first time. He tilts his head, confused, but says nothing.

The apprentice bites her tongue to keep from spilling the truth. She needs him to be as calm as possible. Jackie should appear soon. She just has to distract the magician until then.

Marvin hasn’t spoken the entire journey. In fact, he looks like he might faint any second. Despite his weak and disheveled appearance, he’s alert and awake.

“Where are we? This place looks haunted,” Marvin finally says. The valley looks familiar, but he’s given up trying to remember places. He needs to rest.

The last hour has been nothing but fear and uncertainty, and a whole lot of running. Running from the sorcerer who tried to force the magician to marry him, running from the angry mob who rushed to defend the sorcerer when Marvin left the altar, and transporting with the girl to get far away from human contact.

On any other day running from trouble, Marvin would sleep, but the valley is way too sketchy for him to rest. There are no leaves giving them shelter, so they could be spotted any moment! He needs to stay awake. The girl is here beside him. He can’t risk her getting hurt.

In the short time that he’s known her, he has grown fond of the girl down the street who promised that he would not marry the sorcerer. She kept her promise and now he is free. He owes her. He can’t risk losing her. Not after he lost Jackie and everyone else...

Marvin’s heart sinks. It felt like only yesterday he woke up in the hospital, shivering and starving, only to find out his family had apparently died by the hands of a mysterious stranger. He spent the entire day sobbing in bed, refusing to get up or eat. It wasn’t until the sorcerer had arrived to pick him up did he finally leave the bed.

The girl plops down beside Marvin, big brown eyes boring into him. She’s hiding something, he can tell by her too wide smile and the book in her lap.

“What are you smiling about?” he asks. The girl’s smile fades and she looks down awkwardly.

Marvin realizes how rude he sounded and shakes his head. “Sorry, that came out wrong.”

“No, it’s cool, I was probably starting to look like a creep, anyway,” the girl says. She falls silent.

Marvin closes his eyes again. A chilly breeze whisks by, making him shiver slightly. There is no sound but the wind. He hasn’t felt this peaceful in months. He begins to hum softly, letting his voice be carried off by the wind.

“Will you sing for me? Please?” The small voice awakes him from his trance. He opens his eyes and looks down at the girl.

“What?”

“Will you sing, please? I hear you have such the loveliest voice!” the girl pleads.

Marvin’s stomach sinks. How can he break it to her? “Those days are behind me. I haven’t sung in so long. The sorcerer… he made me sing for hours on end… it became a chore rather than an escape.”

The girl’s face falls. “Oh… okay. It- it was just a suggestion.” She turns away, hiding her book behind her back.

“But… he’s not here anymore. I don’t belong to him… He thought he could break me…” Marvin puts a fist over his chest. “But I won’t let him.” He stands up. “What do you want me to sing?”

The girl’s face lights up and she stands up as well. “Oh! Well.. anything! Maybe something fun and light-hearted! I’ve had enough sad ballads.”

Marvin laughs. “Alright then!” He takes a deep breath and warms up his vocals. Even though there’s no audience, he still wants to be prepared.

Behind him, the statues begin to vibrate and the tree begins to rustle. Tiny bits of rock and stone crumble and fall off. The apprentice gasps. Marvin startles at the sound.

“What was that?!”

“Don’t worry about it! It was just the tree!” the girl quickly says. “Keep going. Just ignore everything around you and sing!”

Marvin frowns at her insistence but turns back and continues warming up. The apprentice opens her book, heart thumping loudly. She was right! A wizard’s voice can break stone! Who knew?!

Behind her, Marvin takes a deep breath and sings. “You will be my wings… you will be my only love! You will take me far beyond the stars!”

The girl watches amazed as grass rises from the ground and icicles fall off the willow tree. Just how strong is this guy?! The statues shake again and more stone falls off.

“It’s working! Keep going!” she yells.

“What are you doing back there?!” Marvin demands.

“You’ll find out! Just sing! Please!” She is almost desperate. Marvin rolls his eyes.

“You will lift me high above! Everything we’re dreaming of will soon be ours!”

She squeals as the branches of the willow branch sprout leaves and flowers sprout from the ground. A large chunk of stone falls off Chase’s arm. The arm begins to move. She gasps in delight. Marvin sure has a lot of magic!

“Anything that we desire, anything at all… Everyday you’ll take me higher…” Marvin trails off.

“Why’d you stop?!”

“I… I’m tired and I just want to sleep. I’m far from home and I’m a mess and I don’t want to sing right now-”

“AND I’LL NEVER LET YOU FALL!!!!” The two whirl around to find Jackie underneath the tree. More icicles shatter.

“Jackie! Oh, Jackie, you’re alive!” Marvin runs over to the superhero, who grins in delight. He scoops Marvin up in his arms and twirls him around. Marvin buries his face in Jackie’s shoulder to hide his sobs.

“I missed you so much!” Jackie cries.

“They told me you were dead!” Marvin exclaims.

“They lied,” Jackie says simply. “I’m here now… You’re safe!”

Marvin laughs at last. It’s a lovely sound, one that hasn’t been heard in months. Jackie begins to sing again.

“I’ve been dreaming of a true love’s kiss! And a man I’m hoping comes with this!”

“Pure and strong and waiting to complete my love song!” Marvin continues.

The flowers are in full bloom. The willow tree’s branches dance in the wind, pink blossom petals falling off and swirling around the two lovers. The girl grins and turns around. The statues crack and the stone falls off its prisoners. Chase, Henrik and Jameson gasp and stumble out of the rubble.

“GUYS!” the girl throws herself on Jameson, who laughs gleefully and hugs her back.

“You did it, I knew you would!” Chase cries, joining in the hug pile.

Marvin gasps and turns around. “Chase?! Jameson?! HENRIK?!”

“Marvin!” Henrik is the first to reach the magician. He hugs Marvin, only to get a small squeak in return.

“Marvin? You okay?” Henrik asks.

“How did- I thought…” Marvin mumbles.

“They told him we were dead. They weren’t completely wrong,” Jackie says, expression darkening. Marvin frowns.

“The sorcerer dude turned those three into stone and threw Jackie in the lake when he tried to escape!” the girl explains. “I saved Jackie and had him transported the statues here while I went to get you!” She opens her book to the marked page. “The book said a wizard’s voice could break stone, and since you’re half wizard, I figured it would work! And it did!”

She gestures to the three men, who gather around Marvin for a group hug.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t get to you in time…” Jameson signs. “We tried to fight him off, but-”

“It doesn’t matter. We’re all here, we’re together again,” Marvin says, gripping Jameson’s hand. Jameson squeezes back.

The girl bounces on her toes. Chase pulls her into the circle.

“It was just luck that she arrived, clever little thing! Disguised herself as a fly! Henrik told her to go after Jackie and where our statues would be after we turned. She went to get him then they came back to save us!”

“I put the statues in a safe spot, while the girl masqueraded as a wedding-helper until she could break you free,” Jackie says.

Marvin gently kisses her on the forehead. She blushes.

“Thank you. You’ve done so much for us.”

The girl nods. “Happy I could help! So… now what?”

“Let’s go home,” Henrik suggests. “We’ll have a little party to celebrate escaping that horrible place and to thank our new friend.”

Holding each other tightly, the egos and their friend transport home to their friends and family.

Reading Tag (Let me know if you want to be removed or added!):

@graysun, @florenceisfalling, @miishae, @lonelyseiren, @goldenoceanaart, @egopocalypse, @oasisofgalaxies, @fleecal, @kofi-kiing, @myspatialspace, @jo-ann-ahh-2, @huffletrax, @gemstone6, @dumbasticart, @lunaarmada,@meteorshowersfillthesky, @uhhbeans, @the-pastel-kitsune, @bupine, @climbing-starrs, @the-spawn-of-loki, @jadehowlettthewolf, @obsidiancreates, @rammypaige, @hollenka99, @cest-mellow, @randowaffle, @green-protects, @dezi-popp, @badlypostedeverything, @crystalninjaphoenix, @milo-kno, @pixelpixie-pix

#apparently i can write #egotober #egotober2020 #marvelsepticeye #ego shipping #jacksepticeye #writersofjack #writing #immabethehero #marvin the magnificent #jackieboy man

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lcmontagne · 4 years ago

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(CHARLIE GILLESPIE, MALE) - Have you seen JAMESON LAMONTAGNE? JAMIE is in JUNIOR YEAR year. The HEALTH & PHYS ED MAJOR is/are 21 years old & is a CAPRICORN. People say HE is/are CHARMING, OUTGOING, DIMWITTED and GULLIBLE. Rumors say they’re a member of KINCAID. I heard from the gossip blog that THEY WERE BLACKMAILED INTO RELATIONS BY THE COACH’S DAUGHTER TO KEEP HIS SPOT ON THE BASEBALL TEAM.

this is my newest (old) baby, Jamie! a summary is Himbo Rights, basically.

STATISTICS

name : Jameson Elias LaMontagne

nicknames: Jamie, JJ, James

age : twenty-one

school year : Junior

major : phys ed & health education

date of birth : dec 25th

zodiac sign : capricorn

sexuality : pansexual

+ traits : charming, outgoing, kind,

- traits : gullible, , dimwitted, stubborn

PERSONALITY:

he’s a straight up himbo, but a himbo with a heart of gold. Funny dude, loves to joke around and make those around him laugh. Will beat up frat guys who try to take home wasted girls, will also pass out at the same party huggin a pillow he found in an upstairs bedroom.

loves hobbies, especially cooking!! his dad owns a family restaurant down near bourbon street, so he’s picked up on quite a few family recipes. A stress cooker, loves 2 feed people.

thinks being in kincaid is chill as hell, it means fun parties and plenty of people to meet. Doesnt really buy into societies?? like he doesnt get why some are so prestigious, assumes theyre all the same. 100% accepted the invite because his buddy was invited too and he didn’t wanna miss him.

He knows damn well he’s not the brightest, doesn’t pretend to be. But he loves when people are passionate about things they love, even if its academics. Talk his ear off for an hour about shakespeare or russian lit, he won’t complain. He’ll smile and follow along, even if half goes above his head.

he feels everything, whether its extreme highs or extreme lows. He doesnt let many people see the lows, still hasn’t brought himself to ask for help about it. His dad just said he’s got a big heart, too big for the fucked up world they live in. Jamie doesn’t like to think about more than that.

can be a but of a dick on the defense if you openly imply he’s a moron though, it’s a sore spot at such a high stakes school

a little ?? about the death and drama. Does now carry pepper spray that he’s almost certain is expired.

DETAILS

tw: mentions of injury, car accidents

He is very pretty, & very nice. That’s about all we got goin’.

Born the only child of Kelly & Daniel LaMontagne, result of a drunken hookup between friends & cause of a shotgun wedding to follow. Born on christmas day at 2am, his mom called him the best gift they’d ever gotten. (his dad joked about losing the gift receipt. its a thing)

They were married until he was 4, & then decided they truly just made better friends. amicable divorce, no lingering trauma.

Dad moved back to New Orleans, mom moved up to Rhode Island, he spent his time growing up bouncing between the two, but spent a lot of the time including the school year in New Orleans, due to his mom being a surgeon and his dad being able to devote more time and waking hours to their son.

repeated kindergarten, got diagnosed with ADD pretty young.

his dad thought he needed an outlet for his energy, so after school clubs and sports became the Thing. Soccer, karate, gymnastics, he tried it all, but nothing ever stuck before baseball.

The boy fell in love, ate slept and breathed it. Was actually really damn good too, and played all through middle and high school in hopes of playing major league.

His junior year of high school he and his best friend were driving home from a late practice when a driver fell asleep at the wheel, and veered head on into their lane. Jamie woke up with a broken collarbone and a concussion. Tyler woke up paralyzed from the waist down. He was out for the rest of the season, and the guilt he has about Tyler he still carries with him to this day. ( they face time still, though less these days. He thinks it hurts ty, to see him here.)

Senior year he was back, but behind. & slowly lost any chance at getting majorly scouted for D1 colleges. So he did his best, even if it wasn’t ever quite enough.

Yates was solely due to a very large donation made by his mother to the medical program at school, hoping her son would take being on campus as a chance to branch out, explore other programs and passions.

Joke is on her, he enrolled as a goddamn phys ed major and spends most of his non class times on the field or gym. He’s determined to make it count, and do what he feels he was Born To Do.

His grades majorly tanked the end of last semester, and he fell just under the GPA he needed to remain on the team. Desperate to remain, he gave in to the offer of going on a date with the coach’s daughter in exchange for her talking to her dad about remaining on the team.

Joke’s on him now, because she definitely expected more than just dinner, and every few months she dangles his fate in her hands and he’s forced to give in all over again. Not proud of it, but he’s resigned and accepted that fate.

loves people!! & activities and life most of the time. A sweet dude who gives solid hugs. & that’s where i’ll leave this.

his WANTED CONNECTIONS can be found clicking anywhere here! pls holla @ me or let me @ u bc he needs it all.

#yatesintro #jamie — abt.

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kiwi-bitchez · 5 years ago

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Permafrost

Chapter 3: Business-Casual

Chapters 1 and 2, also on my AO3

Summary/AN: After leaving Peter at Stark Tower with no way to contact you, the two of you can't keep each other off your minds. However, fate (or Tony Stark) has it that you meet again on a boat heading towards Antarctica. Mostly just expositional plot for what's to come ;)

Also! Please leave messages/asks/let me know if I should start a taglist for this series!

Warnings: mentions of alcohol I guess, NO smut for once (sorry folks), finally some plot

Weeks had passed since the night of the party, yet you still couldn’t seem to get Peter out of your head. You tried your best to push him into a deep corner of your brain, but memories of that night kept tugging at the edge of your consciousness, slipping in when your concentration faded or when you found your mind otherwise unoccupied.

You constantly talked yourself out of thinking of him, explaining to yourself that he’s a full-time superhero and probably wouldn’t have the time or energy to see you again even if he wanted to. If he had wanted you to stay he could have asked, and you were sure he had access to technology to find you if he really wanted. So you resigned to constantly pushing him back into that corner of your brain, hoping that the memory of him would soon fizzle into nothing.

But then again, did you really want that? There was a reason you had replayed that night over and over in your head, remembering the way he grabbed your hand, the way his eyes crinkled shut when he laughed, the way his eyes rolled back when he… Push it down, stop idealizing, and move on with your life y/n, you thought.

Keeping yourself busy at work helped. Constantly helping prep for upcoming trips and programs, paperwork and maps to sort, gear to be ordered. You hadn’t been promoted per se, but you had definitely started taking on some more responsibility.

“Knock knock,” your boss Stephen strolls into the back room where you found yourself surrounded by endless papers, “got a minute?”

“For you? Not sure…,” you joke with him, swiveling around in your chair to give him your full attention. He was a good boss, treating everyone like equals rather than subordinates, and he had a sarcastic sense of humor, appreciating that you could dish it right back.

“I’ve got some mail for you, and something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about,” he sits down on the desk across from you.

“Shoot,” you gesture towards him, taking the short but thick stack of mail rubber-banded together from him.

“Well, we have been in contact with our partners over at Stark Industries,” he starts, “and in our last debrief with Mr. Stark he mentioned that there’s some room in the budget for another guide for the Antarctica trip. Now, nothing against you or your ability, but I did suggest Scott or Matt to join the team, but he explained that he had met you at the party and was impressed with you. He also said something about wanting a smaller climber on the team, said there might be some tight squeezes and having you might be an asset. I told him that I had no doubt in your ability if he really wanted to hire you for the team, so, it's up to you but the plane ticket and all the paperwork is right there.”

You sat there a little dumbfounded, not yet processing what your boss had just clearly explained. Feeling like an idiot with your mouth open like a flytrap you swivel back around and put all the paperwork into your desk.

“Umm, yeah, wow,” you look back at him, “you’re sure that you don’t want to tell him to take someone else? Someone more experienced? I’m not really sure if I deserve this.”

“I don’t know kid, he was pretty adamant about you coming. I would take the opportunity and run with it if I were you. It will be great experience for someone as young as you, and even though you probably wouldn’t have been the company’s first choice I trust in your ability, you are a good worker and an even better climber.”

You had never had a conversation this honest with Stephen, who was kind of like an older brother figure to you. Ever since moving far away from home he had kept an eye out for you both at work and in your personal life.

“Shit, yeah I guess I can’t really say no,” you say, bringing your hand to your forehead, trying to help this all sink in.

“Don’t act too excited,” he rolls his eyes at you and leaves you to your work.

“Fuck,” you mumble to yourself, “what the fuck.”

You sat there in disbelief, sifting through the stack of plane tickets, boarding passes, and travel information you had just been given. When the concept of traveling to Antarctica to climb mountains and getting paid for it started to hit you, an even bigger train slammed right into your stomach, Peter.

Fuck, you certainly couldn’t keep pushing thoughts of him away if you were going to have to see him every day for three months. But you couldn’t see him like that, he was going to be at work, doing Avenger things, superhero things, not you things.

You convinced yourself that you probably wouldn’t even have to see him that much, you would probably be in two totally different places doing two totally different things. Is that what you wanted? Maybe? No. Definitely no. But this was work and you were just going to treat it like you would any other job. Hopefully.

At Stark Tower

“I don’t know!!!” Peter groans as he flips his grilled cheese, “I’m just bad at stuff like that!”

“Dude,” Sam replies from across the kitchen, “it’s not hard. She definitely really liked you.”

“Yeah, we could all hear how much she really liked you that night…” Bucky teases.

“But, like, what if she didn’t even want to give me her number though? Like what if she wanted it to be just like a one-time thing? She totally could have left it if she wanted to.”

“You can't expect her to do all the work though, kid,” Sam tries to reason with Peter, “you have to show her you are interested, vocalize things, ask, don’t assume.”

“You know what happens when you assume,” Bucky retorts, unable to hide the snark in his voice.

“Yeah, yeah, an ass out of you and me, fuck off, I didn’t ask you metalman,” Peter was trying to keep up with the constant back and forth of insults and high context between Sam and Bucky that they also fired at everyone around them.

“Ughhhh, I just liked her so much! And I never get the chance to meet girls, and she just like, fell into my lap, and then poof,” Peter raises his hands to his face in exasperation, hoping that getting this off his chest would help the heavy feeling that had been lurking there ever since he woke up to find you gone from his bed.

“I don’t know what else to tell you kid,” Sam tries to be empathetic without ragging on the kid too hard, “you could just ask Stark to track her down.”

“That’s so creepy though, I don’t want her to think I’m a creep,” Peter pouts, now eating his burnt grilled cheese.

Natasha enters the kitchen, filling up a bottle of water and leaning back onto the counter.

“What’s he moping about now?” she asks Sam.

“He’s pissed that he scared off that nice girl from the party.”

“I did not-,” Peter starts, but then flops his head down to the counter, pressing his cheek against the cold marble.

“Aw, sweetie, she didn’t leave her number?” Natasha asks, with some genuine concern, but also playing Sam and Bucky’s game of tormenting you.

“No,” he grumbles, not lifting his head from the counter.

“Maybe she just wanted to wait to see you again until the trip, I’m sure she’s really busy just like you are,” Nat says, now with only comfort in her voice.

“She’s not coming, she just got an invite to the party, but she’s not coming,” Peter responds, finally peeling his cheek from the counter.

“Not sure what she told you, but her name is on the roster of tickets. We sent over three packets of travel info to the mountain guide company, one with her name on it just the other day,” she says to a much more attentive Peter, who knew Nat has much more inside intel than he does around here.

“Don’t fuck with me,” Peter says with an annoyed look on his face, “you’re just as bad as them now.” He gestures to Sam and Bucky who were still snickering at him, laughing at his misery.

“Go talk to Stark if you don’t believe me, I’m sure he would looove to hear all about your girl problems.”

Peter was used to taking jabs, being the youngest and most gullible, but he didn’t think Nat would mess with him like this. Bucky or Sam? Definitely. But Nat? She had a soft spot for him.

Peter had been genuinely upset that you decided to slip away that night. He worried that he did or said something wrong, maybe he shouldn’t have been so forward. Or maybe he should have been more forward? He didn’t know. All he knew was that he felt like an idiot and he worried that everything Bucky and Sam said was true, that he had scared you off.

Now he was grappling with this new information, the idea of seeing you again on the mission. What if you didn’t want to see him? He didn’t want to throw himself at you and look desperate, but he couldn’t stop thinking about you and how your hair felt tangled in his hands, how his name sounded coming from your lips.

Later that afternoon Peter found himself pacing outside of the lab, debating whether to ask Tony about you, to ask if what Nat had told him was true. He didn’t want this to be a big joke, but he also had to know, the question had been burning his brain.

“Hey Mr. Stark, sorry to bother you, I was just-”

“Yes Peter, she’s coming, I sent over an extra ticket.”

“Really? I-”

“Nat told me you would be bugging me about this. I believe the words you’re looking for are Thank You.”

“Umm, thank you? Thank you.”

“I met her after she was leaving your room after the party, she seems like a good kid. I wanted another climber, someone small to squeeze through tight spaces. Plus, having a pretty girl around will keep you out of my hair. Now shoo.”

Tony tried to stay stern with Peter, constantly wanting to teach him lessons, but he also wanted to make the kid happy. With all the hard work Peter had been putting in the past few months, he deserved to have a little fun, to enjoy something for once. Tony knew what it was like to get too concentrated on work, the toll being an Avenger could take, and Peter was too young to feel like that all the time.

Shuffling out of the room with a string of mumbled “thank yous” Peter rushed back to his room at the compound, flopping back onto his bed. He didn’t know how to feel, but he knew he was excited and nervous to see you again.

You peer across the rows of seats on the plane, searching for a familiar face. A specific familiar face. You assumed that everyone on the mission would be flying together, but your business class tickets suggested otherwise. Stephen was scheduled to fly with Stark and the Avengers, to manage the loading and transportation of all the gear. You and Eric, the other guide, flew commercial to Argentina and would meet up with everyone at the site of the boat you would be taking down to Antarctica.

It was an eleven-hour flight and you were quick to grow restless. In-flight movies and complimentary snacks couldn’t quiet your buzzing nerves. You needed to figure out a way to occupy your brain for the flight, because thinking about Peter for eleven hours didn’t seem healthy.

You did spend about three of those hours trying to think of what you would say to him if or when you saw him. Should you apologize? Play it cool? Run into his arms? Definitely not that last one. It was probably best to keep everything professional, treat him like you would anyone else.

After an in-flight G and T you managed to doze off for the next few hours of the flight, drooling onto the pull-out tray. Eric shakes you awake, mocking your open-mouthed sleeping face, telling you it’s time to buckle up and get ready to land.

You nervously start to rub the skin on the inside of your thumb, a bad habit that sometimes left you with raw and puffy skin. An outsider may have guessed that you were afraid of flying, but it was quite the opposite, you were afraid of landing.

A private car picks you up and drives a short distance to the waterfront. It’s a private dock specifically for boats traveling long distances. You had never spent more than a few hours on a boat, and certainly never one this big. You were quickly ushered onto the top deck and then down into what looked like a conference room.

It appeared that you two were the last to arrive, and the boat would be departing soon. Quietly placing your bags in a corner and finding a place to stand, you direct your attention to Mr. Stark who stood at the front of the room, naturally.

“I’m sure you all want to get to your bunks, it’s been a long day of travel for everyone. I just wanted to relay some basic info from the captains before giving you all your room keys. This trip can take anywhere between 10 days and 3 weeks, all depending on the weather. There is an intercom so you know you’ll be hearing from me if we all need to congregate again, but otherwise, I suggest we take this time to prepare for the mission and rest up. Thanks , everyone.”

There was a lot of shuffling around and you constantly felt like you were in someone’s way. Eric, Stephen, and yourself step aside into the hallway to debrief quickly on the transportation of the gear. Everything had gone as planned and you decided to meet back up in the morning.

“Your room is down the stairs, third door on the right,” Tony says to you in passing, “should be unlocked.”

Taking two trips down to carry your belongings, you find the door to your room cracked open.

“Hello?” you sense a presence already in the room.

“Oh, hey, sorry, I was just-,” Peter steps out of the bathroom that’s connected to your small room, containing two small beds and a desk.

Your eyes grow wide, not expecting to see him so soon. The three hours of Peter-prep you had done on the plane suddenly vanished from your brain. You stand there, bags still in your grip.

“Mr. Stark says that you and I are “young and spry” and that we don’t count as full adult people so we have to share a room,” Peter says quickly and nervously, using air quotes, “but I can totally go ask someone to switch, or I think there is a couch somewhere if-”

“No,” you cut him off, meeting his eyes for the first time, “don’t worry about it, this is okay with me if it’s okay with you.”

“I’m sorry if this is weird,” Peter says, surprisingly honest.

“It doesn’t have to be,” you say, finally placing your bags down. Okay, so you guess you are deciding to play it cool, “We can just…start over?”

“Yes. Yes ok, Um, my name is Peter Parker and I’m Spiderman,” he says, semi-jokingly, extending his hand to you.

“And my name is Helga and I am an assassin sent here to take you out,” you make finger guns at him and attempt a bad German accent, causing you both to giggle.

Your lame attempt at humor had somehow brought the two of you right back to the way you had been that night three months ago. It felt easy and comfortable, but you had to force yourself not to stare at him as he started unpacking his clothes, not to notice the way his arms looked in that white t-shirt…

“I honestly think this is some kind of weird test that Mr. Stark is putting me through,” Peter turns to you, offering to help you with your bags.

“He told me about how he drove you home after the party, after-” Peter cut himself short, “anyways, I’m glad you’re here, but I just can't help but think that Stark has some sort of sneaky ulterior motive.”

“Damn, paranoid much?” you try to ease the tension, “Maybe he just learned that I’m the best goddamn ice climber east of the Mississippi and he wanted to hire me for my tremendous skill.”

“Are you really?”

“No,” you laugh, “he probably does have an ulterior motive though, and this is totally a test. We are actually plotting together against you.”

His eyes grow wide for a second before realizing you are messing with him. He playfully hits your arm with his pillow.

“Don’t do that! Everyone here is always fucking with me, I don’t need another bully!” he says with a laugh, hitting you with his pillow again.

“Sorry, I’ll be nice I promise,” you dramatically bat your eyelashes at him, deciding that if you couldn’t fuck him you’d just have to resort to constant humor.

“But I’m serious, I think we should just be friends on this trip, co-workers,” you let off your chest, as much as you wanted to attack his mouth with yours, you didn’t want to jeopardize any part of this trip, any part of your job. Even though it was going to be fucking difficult sharing a room with him.

“Yeah, yeah, professionals,” Peter nods, a noticeable disappointment flashed across his face though.

“It’s just that…I’m getting paid to be here, and this boat isn’t huge, and I just wouldn’t want my boss, or your boss to think-”

“Yeah, no, I totally understand. I totally get you. 100% Couldn’t agree more.”

He talks a lot when he’s nervous, and he always tries to find something to do with his hands, tug at the hem of his shirt or fix the bedsheets that were already perfectly made. A quiet settles around the two of you, a dead air making the awkwardness more and more apparent with every passing second.

You both get your things settled in, unsure of who was going to say something first. You flop back on the bed, genuinely exhausted from the day.

“Hey y/n?” Peter says, also laying flat on his back on the bed parallel to yours.

“Yeah?”

“I really am glad you’re here though.”

You close your eyes as a big smile spreads across your cheeks. This was going to be a long fucking trip.

#peter parker fanfic #peter parker #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #peter parker fic #marvel fanfiction #permafrost #fanfiction #finally some plot #no smut sorry folks

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spiftynifty · 6 years ago

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Hey there! I’m the same anon that sent that confusion ask to jojo. I saw your reply and Read your post about LGBT in kids shows and how (at the time) it seemed probable for a m|m canon. I wanted to ask what your thoughts are now? I personally think it seems most likely that Keith will end in a het. Relationship (despite it seeming a little rushed and lm and jds saying they wouldn’t) Keith ending with no one when such a strong relationship with shiro was built up just doesn’t seem likely either..

To be honest, I was worried about Kacxa at first too. Many, many other hetero romances have started with less than that and seeing underdeveloped relationships just happen because “he was a boy, she was a girl, can I make it any more obvious” is something we are extremely accustomed to. Heck the show kind of plays right into this with Hunk/Shay.

But Keith is different, he is a far more developed and story-focused character than Hunk is, and thus if he’s to be given a romantic partner then it needs to match that flow and level of development. One of the “rules” that we often get in media is that “romance is a higher level on the relationship chart than friendship”. And at this point, and even after 13 more episodes, there’s just no context this show could offer me where I could honestly believe that Keith could regard Acxa with a similar level of affection to how he regards Shiro, let alone higher. This was the biggest reason I stopped worrying; to be blunt, Kacxa doesn’t make sense on a narrative or character level. Keith aside, Acxa deserves to have a story told that doesn’t involve her following dudes around.

Also, revisiting the show I’m quite convinced that Keith is canonically in love with Shiro, that his feelings for him were intended to be read as so many of us do. There’s a reason so many people in and outside the fandom have written about their relationship with optimism and curiosity about where the show is taking it. It’s there, even for those who have never been looking for it. I know a lot of straight guys who have picked up on it despite never realizing Korrasami was a thing.

But we definitely do a lot of speculating here in the Sheith fandom and I’ve seen some pretty elaborate meta for scenes that didn’t particularly resonate as shippy for me. So stepping back, shipping goggles off, speaking as a viewer and as someone who works in animation, there are really… 3.5 sequences that give me pause, that are so heavily coded and so… interestingly storyboarded and animated that I find it increasingly impossible to believe the showrunners and directors never intended for their relationship to be read romantically. They are:

Because there is something inherently romantic about the slow zoom on their smiles before the slow drift of them towards each other, the castle forgotten

Because this is blatantly highlighting how beautiful Shiro is and Keith staring at him in awe before he closes his eyes for the last time, resigned to their joint fate

Because I have run all the permutations and scenarios in my mind and there is literally no reason for Keith to stop mid lean, with his eye direction shifting lower than Shiro’s eyeline. It would have been faster and way less work to show him just hugging him without the pause.

And then this is the 0.5:

Because while the canon tempers this moment with “you’re my brother”, I am beyond convinced that that line was added because the scene was too romantically coded without it. And if you don’t believe me, check out this edit someone made of what the scene sounds like without the brother line. It’s incredible.

But will we SEE canon Sheith? that’s… a little more complicated.

My post ages ago about LGBT in cartoons was pretty optimistic but where I failed was considering the differences in studios. Some companies are a lot more chill about LGBT content in their shows. But they also aren’t the Big Two: Disney and Dreamworks, whose records of LGBT characters are utterly abysmal. Here are the two they had prior to July 2018: LeFou from live action Beauty and the Beast, and Gobber from HTTYD2 in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it line that was ad-libbed by the actor and left in. Arguments could also be made for the Sheriffs in Gravity Falls (that had to be Dumbledore’d after the fact by the show creator who alluded to there being a fight over it).

NOT great, especially when you consider Disney is not just Disney: none, NONE of the 19 Marvel movies feature an LGBT character, nor do ANY of the Star Wars movies. It’s utterly inexcusable. Shareholders in these companies make things more complicated because they help dictate the direction a company will take and if a large portion of their major shareholders are say, more conservative, we’re going to notice that there is one area on the diversity checklist that is repeatedly getting passed over. The bigger the company, the more complicated the relationship is with shareholders. That’s why it’s difficult to compare Korra’s achievement, through Nickelodeon, to the potential of an LGBT relationship on Dreamworks. We should absolutely hold them to the same standards regardless of company size but we can’t expect to get an endgame LGBT relationship just because Korra did, or because of the giant 20-gayteen celebration going on for two wlw ships at Cartoon Network.

But we also got THIS on Voltron.

And it’s a start. I think it outlines pretty clearly where the limits are for Dreamworks at this time, especially since many casual viewers seemed to miss the romantic implications of Zethrid/Ezor, and a more alarming number somehow walked away from Adam/Shiro’s fight completely unaware they were a couple. Which honestly, was certainly Dreamworks’ goal. Keep it vague enough to fool the shareholders, but implicative enough to pat themselves on the back for their achievement. Even though it only exists because JDS and LM fought tooth and nail for it. But at the end of the day, we still have Shiro, Shiro our canonically gay rep, and that’s so huge. I don’t think people realize how huge that is, and I wish his coming out party hadn’t been so marred by toxic antis and even non-antis who decided to take a really big moment in cartoon history and make it all about themselves and their own pain over the “more” that they didn’t get.

It’s incredible that we are getting LGBT in cartoons finally, properly. 2018 celebrated three massive historical achievement in kid’s animation: A strong, muscular, leader hero was revealed to be gay and have had a boyfriends, and two wlw couples kissed–one of them got married, onscreen.

This is HUGE. Prior to 2018 the biggest LGBT cartoon moment we had was Korra and Asami four years ago.

It was like for four years everyone fought and fought and fought and 2018 was the breaking point and we got this glorious explosion of LGBT romance as a result. Audience reception to these couples has been immensely supportive, which is something the companies are definitely noting if it’s translating into dollar signs. It’s something that makes me much more optimistic for the future of cartoons in years to come.

But I’m just going to come out and say it: the road to mlm is just a little bit harder. There are a ton of reasons for this but I’d say the biggest two boil down to: classic, gendered homophobia (the white conservative straight dudes with money supporting the studios have an easier time with the idea of two women making out, cuz that’s “hot” than two men, cuz that’s “weird”), and also because it is easier for people to accept that two overly-touchy women are “just good friends” than it is for them to accept that two male characters doing the same thing are. Guys Don’t Get Affectionate With Each Other, after all, because that’s not the Masculine Way. Or something. Tons of people watched the end of Korra and assumed they were just friends. Replace those characters with Shiro and Keith and it raises eyebrows.

So where does that leave Shiro and Keith? It’s really hard to say and at this point it’s anyone’s guess. I truly believe Sheith was intentionally coded as romantic, but getting the green light is another matter entirely. In addition to the DW shareholders, JDS/LM have to deal with the Voltron ones and since that would include conservative-minded folk along with some Japanese shareholders and Japan has complicated rules about LGBT content… it’s a hot mess. Realistically speaking if you were hoping to see Shiro and Keith kiss onscreen, it’s time to come to terms with the fact that there is a 0.0002% likelihood of it happening. I think the best outcome we can expect at this point is that they both end up single, with bonus points if they’re still alive and on the same planet by the series’ end. I firmly believe that this IS something the showrunners are and have fought for and will continue to fight for until the last retakes are done and the show has been approved and shipped off to Netflix for distribution.

My tinhat theory is that there is one, single scene/shot, that is blatantly canon, that JDS/LM and KR animated on the sly, and have at the ready that they are totally prepared to replace another more platonic scene with– should DW give the go ahead. But I doubt that go-ahead will ever come. At the end of the day the shareholders are the rulemakers and unless they’re convinced it’s worth the financial gain, Sheith is forever bound to be the “will they won’t they” friends we have seen for the last 7 seasons. And I don’t think that potential financial gain of the kids’ animation world’s first mlm couple is big enough to convince them. But god do I ever hope I’m wrong.

#sheith #voltron #meta #long post #my current mood: optimistic for something half a notch above ambiguous #0p0

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crystalninjaphoenix · 6 years ago

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Entertainment

Inverted Character Intros 4/7: Marvin

People who asked me to tag them: @evyptids @awkward-bullshit @watermelonsinmyattic @asunachinadoll @a-humble-narcissus @metautske @odysseus-is-best-boi

The party in the penthouse was still going late into the night. Honestly, it probably should have stopped long ago, considering the state half the guests were in. But the other half was keeping up the wild energy, downing drinks like crazy, jumping around in the middle of the impromptu dance floor, shouting out their conversations. It was surprising that the neighbors downstairs hadn’t called the police with a noise complaint yet. Maybe they’d just resigned themselves to their fate. All the normal lights were turned off, replaced by red and blue and pink party lights that made designs on the heads of the crowd. Music was pumping from a state-of-the-art stereo system.

Parties like this always attracted weird people. The hostess expected it, encouraged it even, but she’d never seen someone like this before. Not because he was particularly strange, but because...he wasn’t. She stared at him from across the room. He was just standing in a doorway, nursing a drink, watching the party. He was wearing a cape and a strange mask, which, in the hostess’s experience, meant he was one of the crazy ones. But he was just standing there. He hadn’t moved at all the entire night, and despite the cup in his hand he wasn’t drinking.

People came to these parties to go insane for a night. Everyone in the city knew this. The hostess finally decided to approach him and figure out what the deal was. She edged her way around the mass of flailing limbs that was the dance floor and sidled up next to him. “You enjoying yourself?” she asked, raising her voice a bit so he could hear her over the loud music.

His eyes snapped to hers. “Not yet,” he replied. He didn’t shout, but she could hear him perfectly.

“Well, the enjoyment of my guests is important to me,” she told him. “What can I do for you?”

The masked man hummed. “I don’t know. How many people are here?”

Odd question. But some people had issues with crowds, so she shrugged it off. “I dunno. I don’t invite people, I just open the door and let them come in. I think on average it’s about a hundred or two.”

“Nice.” He nodded, looking thoughtful.

“Yeah it is!” The hostess said, beaming. “I got the most popular parties in the city.” The man didn’t say anything, just turned and looked back at the party. He was...weirding her out a bit. “Maybe you just need a new drink,” she suggested. “Then you’ll start to loosen up.”

“That’s a good idea, actually. See you later.” He pushed away from his spot and walked toward one of the refreshment tables. The hostess watched him go. She decided to keep an eye on him. Just in case.

It was starting to look like the party would last all night. People showed up, people left if they were able, but the energy didn’t die down no matter what. The hostess left the dance floor to go get a drink. Not alcohol, she never drank, but just a regular refreshment. She tripped over someone who’d passed out. Not uncommon, but usually the wasted people either had the sense to stumble over to the edges of whichever room they were in, or their friends were able to carry them out of the way. This dude was right in the middle of the path to the refreshments.

The hostess frowned. That wasn’t a good sign. She knelt by the unconscious man, checking his pulse. It was as strong as it could be. She pulled back his eyelids to check his pupils. His eyes immediately rolled back, but she noticed his pupils were super dilated and tiny. Probably a problem. Now, she began to notice other strange things. The veins of his face were sticking out, and slightly purple in color. His temperature was unusually high. Despite being unconscious, he was breathing rapidly and shallowly. Was this a drug of some kind? She didn’t allow such things at her parties. Maybe she should call the police...

A few minutes later, she noticed a woman who’d passed out in the doorway to the kitchen. She was showing the same symptoms. And only moments later, a couple were knocked out on a couch, looking the same. Had someone smuggled some new drug into the party? God, she hoped it wasn’t too dangerous.

But an hour later, she was forced to conclude that it was, in fact, dangerous. At least a third of the party had passed out due to...whatever this was. The hostess, seriously worried, went into the kitchen, which was relatively empty of people and noise. She dodged a couple more unconscious people and pulled out her cellphone.

“Hey, it’s you again.” The hostess looked to her left and saw the masked man, sitting on one of her kitchen counters, reading something on his phone. “How’ve you been?”

“Oh. Hey.” She’d totally forgotten that she wanted to keep an eye on him. He was probably fine, she’d seen him hanging out normally. “I was having a great time a little bit ago, but now...people are acting weird. Passing out with weird...I dunno, symptoms? I think it’s a drug so I’m calling the cops.”

The man stood up, stretching. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“What? People could be dying!”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Okay. She was right to be concerned about this dude. She stared at him as she dialed emergency and raised the phone to her ear. His eyes were reflecting the purple party lighting. By this point, she’d forgotten she hadn’t hung any purple lights. She just listened to the dial tone on her phone as it rang...and rang...and rang...and rang...

The masked man walked up to her. “You know, for someone who runs crazy parties like this, you’re a very responsible person.”

“Uh, thanks.” Someone on the other side should’ve picked up by now. It wasn’t a personal number, it was emergency for god’s sake. “Who-who are you again?”

He smiled. “I’m the evening’s entertainment, of course!”

Before the hostess could say anything, he reached out and grabbed her wrist. Violet lightning raced down her arm. Her muscles spasmed and jerked, and when the lightning reached her head seconds later she didn’t even have time to yell before she was knocked out.

A few days later, Marvin was in the basement of the hideout, leaning against a wooden door. Strange symbols were scribbled around the doorframe in what looked like charcoal, but was actually a lot harder to wipe away. He was scrolling through a local news website on his phone. Somebody finally reported the hostess missing.

The article he was reading said she was last seen at her party, or as the media had begun calling it, “The Penthouse Pass-Out.” Stupid name. True, everyone who’d touched any of the refreshments had been affected by the Langoreem’Ysca spell, but they hadn’t really passed out. They all reported being conscious, but too sick to respond. Feverish, nauseous, weak,dizzy...thirteen who’d had too much alcohol had been rushed to the hospital. Of those, seven hadn’t made it. Interesting numbers. Significant.

Marvin decided to call that a successful test. Next, there was a level two version of the Langoreem’Ysca that he was dying to test out. This one happened with no complications, so the next one should work perfectly! He just needed another large group of people...

Actually, there had been one complication. That hostess. She got in the way. But at least he got something out of that. Marvin had a lot of spells he was excited to use. But most of them required a “volunteer.” He needed somebody to test them on, and his last volunteer...well, he decided it was fortunate that he’d picked that party to go to. Saved him a lot of effort.

Marvin leaned over and picked up the leather-bound book he’d laid by his feet earlier. Then he turned and opened the door, revealing steps leading downward still. He adjusted his mask, smiled, and climbed down the staircase, shutting the door behind him.

Everyone knows the evil Marvin concept. I’ve seen a lot of writers put their own spin on it, and now it’s my turn! I honestly had trouble writing this one, because I didn’t know how to introduce his motivation and...activities without the story being too similar to Schneep’s or Jameson’s. Eventually I got this idea, and it reminded me of Jack’s Party Hard series, and I decided to roll with it.

Inverted!Marvin is a black magic magician, which means he’s pretty far gone. Black magic will mess with your mind, alter your perceptions, but sometimes you’re able to climb back out of the pond you’ve fallen in. Inverted!Marvin fell deep into black magic and doesn’t care enough to find his way to the surface. Why would he? These spells give him so much power and he loves every second of it. He’s pretty calm and composed most of the time, but sometimes, when he’s used a lot of magic in a short period of time—well, you should probably avoid him. His relationship with most of the other Inverted!boys is a bit strained. He’s kind of a loner, and most of the time he stays shut up in his part of the basement and practices spells...on people. But he does at least tolerate the others, and they in turn realize “hey, this dude is pretty powerful, let’s not be his enemies.”

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #marvin the magnificent #brigid writes fanfiction #septics inverted au #invertedau

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fireandneurosurgery-blog · 7 years ago

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Jingle Bells || Self Para

Sat on her balcony, Bobbi listened as the sound of Christmas music wafted up her way from a bar a few streets down. She wasn’t allowed outside because of the curfew, and yet she didn’t mind. Leo was getting them dinner and she was enjoying watching the snow.

It helped her think, it cleared her mind and she found herself more able to focus. She could focus on remembering things for example.

Something that Bobbi vividly remembered was the day that she had been attacked by the Harpy, because it was accompanied by bells. Clear, loud, resonating bells that chimed loud and bright, much like the sunshine on that very day.

Now, on any given day there are many things that are accompanied by bells. For bells seem to indicate the beginning of several events. This could be anything from school bells, to fire bells, to alarm bells, to any other bell you could think of. However, on this particular day in Roberta Truman’s life, it was something else entirely. It was wedding bells. Her own wedding to be exact. Or at least, it should’ve been, had things gone according to plan.

Although the truth was that she had never planned for any of it to go like this. It had all began when she’d met Andrew.

She’d met him at a party that one of her doctor friends had thrown. He was charming, handsome, successful. He was tall, with olive skin and dark hair. He had a loud confident laugh and a deep baritone voice that many of her friends confirmed they would die to hear everyday. So when he’d asked her out, she couldn’t think of a reason to say no. She didn’t want to say yes, she just couldn’t work out how to say no without seeming harsh. He was the dream guy. Kind, a feminist, fought for women’s rights, he had money, a kind family, there wasn’t a single thing that you couldn’t like about him. If she’d turned around and said no then he’d have accepted it and wished her a good day. But she forced herself on that date, telling herself that she had to move on with her life. She had to move on from Leo.

So they’d dated on and off for a few years. They’d broken up after she’d gone to California and spent a few weeks in a hotel bedroom with Leo. She’d remembered getting of the plane and calling him. She’d told him straight away. She couldn’t bear to lie to him. But somehow they’d gotten through all that, somehow he had found it in his heart to forgive her and they kept dating.

Years went by and Bobbi came to terms with her life with Andrew as a boyfriend. It wasn’t that bad really, he paid for expensive holidays, bought her nice things, took her to the best restaurants. But there was no spark. No jolt of electricity, there should’ve been. But, there wasn’t and she couldn’t work out why.

When he got down on one knee, pulled out the biggest diamond engagement ring that she’d ever seen and asked her to marry him, she knew that she should have said no. She knew that it wasn’t fair to keep it going with this lie but she couldn’t bring herself to break his heart. It seemed cruel to crush the flair out of his eye, to destroy his hopes for their future together, even if they weren’t hopes that she shared.

When they confirmed the dates, she knew it was wrong. When they sent out the invites, she knew it was fucked up but she didn’t say anything, convincing herself that it was better to be with someone who loved her, even if she didn’t love them back.

It wasn’t until she was walking down the aisle, and smiling at all her friends from college, and high school, and work and everyone important in her life. Her brothers with their wives and kids, except for Pete who was there with his boyfriend Shaun. Her mother with a tear in her eye. Her father, walking his baby girl up the aisle as proud as a peach.

This was everything they’d dreamed off. Especially since Leo had stayed behind and she’d moved on with her life, they’d practically been begging her to get married and it was all happening now.

She was approaching the aisle, slowly but surely getting there and suddenly they were saying their vows. She heard Andrew say it. He calmly and confidently looked her in the eye, cleared his throat, gave her his signature gleaming white smile and said the two words that would’ve made any other woman happy for an eternity.

“I do.”

Then it was her turn, she felt her heart pounding in her chest as she knew what was going to be asked of her, she felt faint and she couldn’t breath. She heard them ask the question and when they asked her the question, she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t say yes, so she ran. She ran, and she ran and that was when the Harpy attacked. She’d just made it down the three blocks from the church to Central Park and she was catching her breath on a bench when it had swooped out of nowhere. It’s moss green feathers gleaming in the autumn sun. Leaves tumbled from branches that it hit as it flew through the air.

The leaves had tumbled downwards, spiralling towards the cold dirt of the park. As they fell the harpy had dived, its talons ripping through the white dress that she’d spent thousands of dollars on, staining it red with her blood. She’d cried out in pain, scrabbling on the ground for something, for anything to defend herself with. Grabbing a branch she had whacked the harpy around the head with it, but the stick only broke and it kept advancing.

Scrambling backwards through the dirt and the mud she’d grabbed a discarded pipe and thrown it at the Harpy, hoping to scare it away. But her clumsy shot missed and the Harpy just circled, preparing for its final attack. The one she knew that would pull out her throat.

Hot tears trickled down her face, her breath misted up in front of her in the cool autumn breeze and in that moment she was convinced that she was going to die for being so cruel to Andrew. She should’ve told him the truth years ago. She should’ve told him that she’d never love another person as long as Leo was alive. But she couldn’t. In that moment she resigned herself to her fate, and waited for it with baited breath.

Then she heard music, the sound of pipes whistling in the wind.

She couldn’t believe what happened next, because it isn’t normal for a tree to pluck a harpy out of mid air and crush it into gold dust, and when a man with furry legs, a where the wild things are t shirt and great big goat horns says “Wassup dude,” you don’t really tend to believe that it has actually happened.

But it did.

Bobbi just couldn’t believe that it was almost two months ago.

#self para #f&gwriting #para #jingle bells

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maeday-gae · 7 years ago

Text

Red Ribbon of Fate

BayoJeanne Week day 5 (a fricken moth late I’m sorry ) Prompt: AU Pairing: BayoJeanne Words: 7216 (DJFDKLSAFJ no wonder it took forever)

Summary: One can never tell when the smallest of choices might lead them to something they lost. For Jeanne, reluctantly tagging along to a rock concert on a lonely Friday night might have been the single best decision of her life.

Author’s Note: This story is legit massive, the BayoJeanne week is over by a long shot, but the ideas keep coming, so I’m gonna keep writing, even if it’s slowly. Frankly, I might have to write a chapter or two more for this story, as I have not even gotten to the core bits of this AU. Regardless, I had fun writing this and I sincerely hope you all enjoy reading it. :)

PS I read all tags and comments, they are always massively appreciated. Big thanks to everyone who has said nice things about my stories, they are a fuel source to keep me writing.

PPS. Massive, massive Shoutout to @xall4one for hosting the week in the first place, and for all the hard work she puts into the Bayonetta Fandom and into the BayoJeanne pairing. I think you’re one of our pillars in the Tumblr Bayo fandom. Rock on dude. :)

Jeanne regretted giving into her co-workers wheedling from the moment she walked into the concert hall. When they arrived the music wasn't supposed to begin for another half hour, but the place had already been packed, floor to ceiling, with people, not all of whom bathed regularly. The general milling noise had already been enough to start the beginnings of a headache (after dealing with teenagers all day it didn't take much), and she'd swallowed down an aspirin in preparation for the rest of the night.

A rock concert was not her first choice for a TGIF party, no matter how much her co-workers insisted it was better than clubbing.

Sitting at the edge of the bar, which was at the opposite end of the hall from the stage, Jeanne was fairly certain she could write a five page argumentative paper on how dissimilar the experiences were.

A man that was more beer belly than bone slumped over the bar and loudly slurred a drink. Jeanne wrinkled her nose and looked away before he got any bright ideas.

Argument 1, people who went clubbing generally were looking for company or a good time, both required cleaning oneself and one's clothes to hope to achieve this. Even from four seats away Jeanne could smell the man's BO and beer breath.

Someone jostled her shoulder and she nearly spilled her drink over the bar. She turned to glare at the offender, but the woman was moving off into the crowd without so much as a glance back.

Argument 2, when clubbing there was generally an accepted area of the establishment where running into people was possible, if not a given. At a concert, there was no safe place for our personal space, except perhaps for outside the concert hall. She had already been jostled, bumped, feet stepped on and generally shoved about more times in the last hour than on her last two weekends of barhopping.

“Isn't this great?”

Jeanne’s musings were interrupted by a flush faced woman whose hair was only a shade redder than her cheeks. She slid in between Jeanne and the neighboring barstool, waving the barwoman down with her empty glass.

“This place is soooo packed! With so many great looking people!” She gestured loosely towards the floor, “y-you should get out there and start cruising, there's plenty of ladies loving ladies who's looking just lovely.”

“How many of those have you had already, Claire?” Jeanne asked mildly, managing to keep her irritation out of her tone.

“'nuff to have a good time,” Claire replied with a slight slur as the barwoman handed her a filled glass, “maybe you should catch up so you can start having some fun too! Pull the stick out of your ass and join us, we're all hanging out on the edge of the pit. Best place to see them.”

“See who again?” Jeanne ignored the barb in favor of taking a drink, mentally trying to recount the names of the bands playing that night. Given that she had only heard of them on the drive over, she wasn't sure she was going to be impressed.

“Well the bands! Duh.” Claire paused for a second and followed up with. “Mostly we're here to see the name band at the end though, they are probably why it's so packed tonight.”

Jeanne gave her a flat look, but Claire didn't seem to notice.

“It's so cool they're playing here, they already did a much bigger show at the other side of town last week, but there were so many fans they booked here at the last minute. The Umbra are the best band there is.”

Ah right. Jeanne frowned sourly. It wasn't as though the old clan had much power or influence anymore, but they weren't exactly dead. Someone using the age old title for some silly pop band made her stomach turn over. She couldn't even begin to imagine what her mother would think, probably fire and rage and the threat of hexes if Jeanne had to guess. But that wasn't Jeanne's life anymore, she'd left it all behind and had no place to comment on the name, no matter how much it twisted her insides.

Claire was still talking, completely oblivious to her inner turmoil.

“.... The dummer is so handsome, I'd love to meet them. Oh! But the lead singer, Witch, she's the hottest thing on two legs right now, her performances are so good she puts all her audience under her spell! And get this,” Claire's leaned closer to Jeanne with a conspiratorial grin, “she's openly pan, it's the coolest representation I could hope for!”

Jeanne was fairly certain Claire was quoting some article or other almost verbatim. Still, she could understand Claire's glee at having a famous celebrity be open about a shared sexuality, even if the woman's stage name was something as unimaginative as 'Witch’.

“I'm still shocked you haven't heard of them! Aren't you related to that old family back where you're from?”

Jeanne stiffened. Even if Claire meant that innocently, the implications laden therein were extremely antagonizing. Or maybe it was just her American accent-that seemed to be the standard tone half the time.

“Distantly.” Jeanne lied stiffly, hoping Claire would take the hint.

“Yea I thought maybe the band was connected to that family somehow, maybe you knew about it or something.”

For being a high school leveled English teacher, Claire was very bad at reading between the lines.

“You'd better get back to the others, they'll be wondering where you are.” When Claire looked concerned and opened her mouth to reply, Jeanne cut her off. “I'm fine here, I'm fighting off a headache and don't want to be too much into the fray so it doesn't turn into a migraine “

“Well, if you're sure... you can always join us anytime,” Claire pointed to a fair corner of the hall, close to the stage without being in the inevitable mosh pit zone. “We're camping in that spot there. You should at least make your way over to see the Umbra up close, they'll be playing around midnight.” Claire started to walk off, “We'll see you in between as we need drinks!” Then she was lost to sight amid the ever shifting shuffle of bodies.

Argument 3, one actually spends time with one's friends at a club, given that they are all enjoying the atmosphere.

Jeanne was sure Claire would take news of her grumpiness back to the other teachers, many of whom she'd been friends with for the six or so years she'd been teaching at the school. Yet she knew she was still an enigma to them in many ways, her lack of enthusiasm for these things being one of them.

That was fine, she'd agreed to go with them and she had. Now she was handling the situation on her own terms, not dragging anyone else down with her moodiness by choosing to remain reclusive. If they couldn't deal with that about her by now then there were worst things going on than sitting alone at a bar.

This was fine.

It was another twenty minutes before the concert started, and when it did, the opening band caused such a noisy ruckus of ‘music’ that Jeanne was half tempted to escape to the restrooms until it was over. She supposed they might have sounded alright when not live, but frankly the overuse of flashing lights and too long guitar solo was off-putting.

She ordered another drink, keeping herself contained to light sips as the hour wore on -she had no intention of getting drunk in such an unpredictable place.

The second band was much better than the first, older and more experienced with their music and performing. She found herself nodding along to the music and took a note of their name on her phone, intent on looking them up later. Claire and several of the other ladies returned to the bar during the second to last song, ordering a new round of drinks and inviting Jeanne to join them soon, because as they said “The floor is gonna get tight when Umbra starts playing, you wanna move closer while you still can!” Jeanne had managed a light smile and promised she would in a bit, which seemed to have satisfied them.

The third band was one she had heard of before, even if just in passing on the radio, and Jeanne found herself bobbing her head to the rhythm by the second song in. By the third song, she could see what her friends had meant when they said ‘tight’. Somehow the ground floor was even more packed than it had been just a half hour ago, and though everyone was enjoying the music being played, there was an air of anticipation.

Jeanne let out a resigned sigh, and downed the last of her drink in one go, the burn of the alcohol flaring through her mouth and throat as she paid her tab and began to ease her way around the edge of the hall, slipping between gyrating bodies on her way to her friends.

“About time!” a voice hollared in her ear when she stumbled into them, tightly knit and standing a only a few feet away from the roiling mosh pit.

“You know me Trish,” Jeanne called back, having to lean close and yell for the blonde math teacher to be able to hear her, “I only show up when the party really gets started.”

The five other women cheered at that, and while most of them were at least tipsy, Jeanne guessed they’d accept that as good reason and forgive the rest of her absence.

For the rest of this song and the entirety of the final one, Jeanne sung along with her friends and cheered with the crowd. Albeit with somewhat less vocal enthusiasm than most were displaying.

It was nearly midnight by this point, and as the second to last band of the night cleared off the stage, Jeanne could feel a palpable buzz of excitement.

Then someone stepped out on stage, their whole persona a glimmering blend of black leather and bright primary colors. The crowd went wild.

“That's the drummer!” Jeanne could barely hear Claire scream over the din. “Aren't they just dreamy?!”

Jeanne didn't have time to study further for another band member strode on stage, a woman with similar clothes as the dummer, her hair shining in all the darker hues of the rainbow. Blue, green, purple.

Each of them moved with total control and confidence. The first gave the crowd a cursory nod and wave as they moved to their drum set, the woman flashed a playful grin and trotted over to a base that had miraculously appeared on stage.

The crowd began to assemble into some form of cohesion, clapping to a single rhythm and growing with a loud chant of “Umbra! Umbra!”

This went on for several long moments as the first two artists tested their instruments with such calm interest they might as well simply be sitting in their living room rather than in front of a crowd full of people.

Said crowd broke their chat and roared in approval as a second woman appeared. Electric guitar already slung over her back, its bright blue body and white lightning marks contrasted sharply with her buzz cut and orange dyed hair. She flashed hand signs at the crowd and cheered along with them, showing off a tongue piercing.

”ls that Witch?” Jeanne yelled at Claire.

“Just wait!” Claire called back, eyes never leaving the stage, her lips smirking.

The guitarist took her place and strummed a few practice cords on her instrument, the sound warbling across the whole hall. The sound caused the whole huge room to go oddly quiet, only a low buzz of hushed whispers. None of the band them seemed particularly worried or involved in what was happening, tuning out the crowd as much as they tuned into their instruments.

Jeanne frowned and glanced at her friends, suddenly very concerned that this was something a lot less innocent that simple concert.

Trish frantically waved at her to look back up at the stage, then in a low tone, she called over the quiet. “Witch!!”

“Witch!” Called someone else from across the hall.

“Witch!” A third voice, and now the rest of the hall joined it. Rhythmically chanting the name over and over, only this time there was no clapping. Instead, each and every person in the room stomped their foot in time with the call, creating a cacophony of beats.

Jeanne was reminded of a summoning ritual, and had to suppress a shudder.

The sound grew louder, voices rising in volume and stomps coming down harder. Jeanne could feel the floor rumble under her heeled feet with every chant.

Just when it seemed the whole hall was would collapse with the sound and the shaking, a flash lit the stage. A cloud of smoke rolled through the center of the stage, through the white haze the silhouette of a woman melted into view.

The hall went ballistic.

“My my,” came a smooth alto voice from the speakers, an accent Jeanne had not heard since she left home tickling in her ears, “I heard so many people calling out for me.”

The cheering increased, somehow.

There was a laugh across the speakers, and the silhouette moved a step closer to the edge of the stage but didn't leave the cover of the smoke. Hands went to hips and the head cocked to one side.

“I just had to come and see what all the fuss is about, and here I find all of my most dedicated fans, what luck.”

Jeanne was tempted to cover her ears to block the screaming, some of which was coming from her own group, but she resisted. There was something painfully familiar about the voice, and she couldn't tear herself away come hell or high water.

“Well, it looks like all my friends are here as well,” the rest of the band was still visible, all of them grinning at the shrouded figure, “What do you think then, should we give them a show?”

The rest of the band nodded or cheered, raising fists into the air.

“I guess that settles that,” there was a showy shrug, “Get ready!” then she threw her hands out to the sides and the smoke whisked away. To where, Jeanne did not care, for the woman revealed was a goddess.

Short black hair spiked in stylish lines across her forehead. A black leather top with the chest cut open wide, the neckline coming back together at her clavicle and continuing into a woven high collar. Her arms were also covered in woven leather, the design pulling apart as it went down to her hands, exposing more and more of her pale skin as it went. Hanging from each arm were six long red ribbons that flashed gold in the light, all of them fluttering in mesmerizing patterns as she moved.

She stalked close to the edge of the stage, her high stiletto boots clacking loudly as she went. Now that Jeanne was closer she could see the woman wore wire rimmed glasses. Her eyeshadow was an enchanting blend of dark grey and purple, and her lips were a shade of rich maroon. But it was her eyes that made Jeanne’s breath stutter. A shade of gun-metal blue that had to be the singular most unique color she had ever seen.

No. It couldn’t be-

“We are Umbra and the Witch!” The woman cried, throwing her hands in the air, ribbons flaring out around her, and the music started with gusto.

It was a credit to the sound system that Jeanne could hear any of the song over the sound of the crowd, but it hardly mattered to her anyway. She was utterly glued to the woman prancing across the stage.

Every note she sang was belted, beautiful, and bold, her lips and eyes smiling with each word. Every motion she made was fluid, one step flowing into the next and then curving into some unexpected half jolted turn, but even these she made look effortless and captivating.

The song was about standing tall, being loud and proud. The beat was infectious, everyone jumping or shaking with it. Jeanne was swept up, her heart thundering in her chest with the aura of the experience. But a smaller portion of her was still reeling.

There was no way that this ‘Witch’ was the same person, and yet…. And yet Jeanne recognized some of her dance moves, things reworked from fighting stances and routines.

Witch kept her crowd wild, gestures that encouraged them on choreographed into her routine. Right at the crescendos of the song, the members of the Umbra joined in on the singing to enforce her words. At the final climax of the song, Witch reached one arm over the other and tore a ribbon free, twirling it in the air for a moment before flinging it into the crowd in a streak of red and glitter. A surge of cheers erupted from where she had flung it, a victorious hand punching the air with the ribbon clenched tightly between the fingers.

Another chorus came around, and then the music suddenly stopped, and Witch was alone, her voice carrying out the final notes of the song with a long, powerful vibrato, her arms raised in the air and head tilted slightly back. Jeanne could feel the energy in her singing, feel it excite her heart. More than that, it awoke something she had forgotten.

Note ending, Witch dropped her arms and faced the screaming hall, chest heaving slightly, her lips split in a brilliant smile. She twirled towards her band and they seemed to converse about something, then all of them began to play again. Their enthusiasm evident in their faces, in the way they swayed with their music.

Jeanne was caught up in the next song as much as the first, but still she could not bring herself to make a sound. So stunned, so unsure was she by what she saw. She was under a spell, both by the music and by her own memories.

Midway through the second song, Witch tore a ribbon from the opposite arm as the first, throwing this ribbon further into the hall. Jeanne could see her scan the hall for a split second before she let fly. The woman was calculating, but in a way that only someone who was looking could see it.

It felt like hours, it felt like a few minutes, but one song blended into the next, and soon a third ribbon was thrown. Jeanne could feel her friends tense, feel their eager hope that they might be the next to catch the prize, but it flew further away that the others had. For a brief moment, Jeanne joined her friends in hoping one would come their way, if only because that would mean Jeanne could see her face clearly. She had to know.

The lead guitarist wound down the song, then hollered out, “Are we all having a good time?!” More screaming, to which she roared back. Witch was taking a drink of water off to the side, her chest heaving very slightly, but her expression amused.

“Do you have any requests for our next set?” The bassist called out next, swaying her hips and grinning. It was almost impossible to hear individual words in the tumult that followed, but there was some kind of similar rhythm to the reply, enough that the band seemed to understand.

“Down with the Moon? Oo good choice!” it was the drummer this time, twirling their drumsticks in a mesmerizing pattern, both sticks glimmering in the light. “What do you think, Witch?”

Witch gave a playful shrug, smirking as she set down her water and strutted forward. “I think these New Yorkers have excellent taste, but then, they are our greatest fans so that’s hardly a surprise.” as the crowd lost their minds, She struck a pose and cried. “Let’s dance, baby!”

Jeanne didn’t hardly hear the song, that phrase circling around and around in her head. Her body numb and her heart hammering.

It was her. There was no mistaking that oft repeated phrase of hers. The tone, the inflection, everything. It was her.

“Cereza.” Jeanne whispered, the sound totally lost in the uproar of the music, the flash of the pyrotechnics, the jumping bodies all around her.

Somehow, in some totally impossible way, Witch’s gaze turned to their side of the hall, Jeanne saw her scan, saw her reach down to grab a ribbon, and then fling it out towards them.

Time slowed, Jeanne’s hand shot out without thought, and her fingers caught hold of fluttering red silk. She caught the ribbon tight in her fist, the small rhinestone that was attached at the end swinging down to tap her arm with its momentum.

She hadn’t even needed to move, the ribbon had flown straight to her.

Claire and the others were hollering and grabbing her shoulder, jumping up and down in excitement- but Jeanne didn’t notice.

For that split second of stuttering time, she was looking straight up into Witch’s face, and Witch was looking right back. Past the entire crowd and the waving arms and the spotlights, Witch stared at her. Jeanne swore she saw a flash of shocked amazement across her face, a flicker of recognition.

The moment was over, Witch twisting away to continue her song, her groove totally uninterrupted despite the brief second they shared.

Jeanne felt… lost. Suddenly disconnected from the ruckus world all around her. The others clutching at her arms and shoulders, but she held the ribbon in a fist against her chest. As though as it was her only line to this moment in this reality.

Witch didn’t look back her way through all the rest of the song, nor through the encore that the crowd coaxed from Umbra. Jeanne couldn’t bring herself to join the cheering or the singing, too caught up in staring at Cereza. Her Cereza up on stage, shining and singing for all the world to see, pure enjoyment in her eyes and dazzling energy in her steps.

Jeanne absently wound the ribbon between her fingers as she watched, the silk smooth and warm against her skin, and she twisted it over and over as the final song came to an end with one last, long note from Cereza.

Witch dropped her arms from their high pose, smiling hugely at the screaming hall, her skin shimmering with faint sweat. “Thank you!” she called, the speakers almost not loud enough to be heard over the fanfare. “Thank you very much! You’re the best crowd we could ever ask for!”

Umbra moved to stand beside her, all shouting their thanks through huge smiles as they waved.

A handheld mic was tossed to the drummer from off stage, and after a few taps it came to life.

“We are Umbra and the Witch! Thank you New York!” They crowed, flashing a peace sign before handing the mic to the guitarist.

“We hope you had a magical night here with us!” She punched one arm in the air, grinning wickedly. Then she tossed the mic across Witch, where it was caught by the bassist.

“Take flight back home all you pretties! But please don’t drink and drive, the bar has cabs standing by if you need a safe ride home.”

The mass of people began funneling out of the hall, moving more like a bag of crusty marbles rather than anything more fluid. Jeanne was quickly surrounded by her friends, who chatted excited in her ear as they began to walk.

“Can't believe-” “you're so lucky!” “I saw Witch look right at us!” “Best. Night. Ever!”

Jeanne managed a grin, feeling her body tingling as the rush of the night set in. Her shock adding a numbing to her muscles while her heart drummed thunderously. What was she going to do? What could she do? Cereza was here after all these years, but she was an untouchable celebrity. A far gone enigma more out of reach than in all their shared years in the coven.

“Ms. d’Arc?”

A smooth baritone voice cut through the murmured hubbub, stunning Jeanne from her stupor.

Standing just inside of a hidden door in the wall was an absolutely massive man. His rich ebony skin and dark suit made it difficult to see him in the low light. His arms were crossed but even though the contours of the jacket Jeanne could see that he was built like a damn tank.

“How do you know my name?” She blurted, the hand holding the ribbon tightening further. Her friends had ground to a halt, all of them watching the man with various levels of suspicion and unease.

The man inclined his head and it was then Jeanne noticed that he was wearing sunglasses. Sunglasses! In a back lit hallway in a dim concert hall.

“Witch would like a word with you.”

All further judgments if his character were lost in a haze of white noise shock.

“Your friends are welcome too, if you'd feel more comfortable that way.”

Jeanne didn't bother to wait for the chattering and dithering to start. She wasn't going to waste this chance on entertaining possibilities and problems.

She stepped forward to the hall and the man stepped back. The light from behind him flashed across the Id badge pinned to his chest, illuminating the single word there. 'Rodin’

A hand gripped her shoulder, it was Claire. “Jeanne wait, this feels weird.”

Irritation stabbed through her, made worse by the curious crowds roving by on their way to the exit, but she fought it down. Under normal circumstances, Claire was very correct, at the moment however…

“It's fine, he has a verified badge, he's a legitimate security man. We'll be fine.”

“Jeanne I mean, this would be so cool, like chance of a lifetime cool, but why would Witch wanna talk to you? Why do you even want a talk to her? You didn't even know the band before tonight, why are you wanting to risk this?”

Jeanne guessed that Claire and the rest thought she must have been drunk, or under the influence of something to act so out of character. They weren't entirely wrong about influence, but they were wrong about what kind it was.

“Because I think I know her, the real her, from my home country. And I need to be sure.” Her tone was final, forceful and focused. “Come with me or not, I'm going. I can catch a cab home if I need to.” She walked through the door, past the giant man, and after a half second of hesitation, heard the rest shuffle through.

The door closed and the hall was instantly quieter.

“This way, ladies.” Rodin moved ahead of them and without glancing back, began to walk down the narrow hall.

It was a service corridor, doors to the side of them labeled 'Electrical’, 'Maintenance’, and the ever creative 'Closet’.

Claire fell a step behind Jeanne in the narrow space and tried to mutter something in her ear, but Jeanne couldn't hear her over the mad rush of blood pounding through her body.

The corridor opened up to the backstage area, though technically they found themselves to the side of the stage itself. Not that any of that mattered, for a few steps in they were close to the stairs that led up to the stage proper, and there, loitering around the edge of the curtain, was Witch and her Umbra. There was Cereza.

Their eyes met.

Cereza's face blossomed into a huge smile, eyes sparkling. “Jeanne!” She clattered down the stage stairs and skipped the last one altogether. Jeanne took two mindless steps forward and suddenly Cereza had thrown her arms around her and pulled her into a tight hug.

Jeanne instantly wrapped her own arms around Cereza's torso, the motion, the grip so natural and familiar that it ached.

“Cereza!” Jeanne choked out, burying her head into the crook of Cereza's neck, the intricate weave of her high collar. She smelled of leather and light sweat, strawberry shampoo and the natural floral undertone that was so very Cereza. “It really is you, I thought I'd never-”

Cereza pulled back and Jeanne had just long enough to regret the loss of contact before Cereza moved forward and her full, warm lips were pressing into Jeanne's.

Jeanne had no reservation. She kissed back, hard. Drowning in the feeling of them that she had missed for so many years. Cereza tasted of cherry schnapps and mint and Jeanne couldn't get enough.

Cereza hummed a long low note in her throat and slowly pulled back, smiling lips now swollen, her eyes shining. Her hands came up to run fingers through Jeanne's hair, cup her chin and run a thumb over Jeanne's lips.

From behind her, Jeanne heard Trish stage-whisper a “Holy shit.” she ignored it.

“It's really you.” Cereza bit her lower lip, eyes still shining, “When I saw you in the crowd I couldn't believe… I had to make sure. It was like seeing a ghost.”

Jeanne chuckled maniacally. “How do you think I felt? Seeing you up there all razzle dazzle, I kept going over and over again whether it was you or not. Gods, Cereza, seven years and here is where I find you?”

“Yo,” a voice from on stage made them both jump and look around, though neither of them let go of the other.

It was the lead guitarist, she sauntered down the steps. “Not to break up this pretty reunion, but who's this, Witch?” She looked Jeanne up and down, then smirked. “She's pretty.”

“Oh,” Cereza turned to face her band, but rather than let Jeanne go, her arm lowered to wrap around Jeanne's waist. Her nails dug into the fabric of Jeanne's dress very slightly, though the rest of her pose was relaxed.

“Jeanne, meet Umbra, my band. There's Tina,” she motioned to the noisy guitarist, “Bree” that was the bassist, “and Sam.” The final being the drummer, each of them waved and gave a mild greeting.

“Umbra, meet Jeanne d’Arc, she's…” Cereza hesitated, Jeanne could feel the weight of the years between them fill that empty space. It made her stomach drop, but she wrapped her own arm around Cereza and squeezed slightly, unwilling to let the moment drown in the tide of the past.

“We were together for many years, before circumstances forced us apart.” Jeanne supplemented gently.

“Holy shit are you serious?” Claire's voice rose higher with each syllable, and Jeanne almost flinched, having forgotten that her friends were present.

The hand on her waist went tense. “And who are these lovely ladies?”

To the room at large, Cereza was playful, teasing. Jeanne however, could hear the deeper question in her words, the tension in her tone. Even after so long apart, Jeanne could still read her like a book.

Oh that wouldn't stand, Cereza had kissed her and then been kissed back.

“These are my friends from work,” she supplied quickly, “they are the reason I came to the concert in the first place. There's Claire, Trish, Amy, and Silvia.”

She could feel Cereza relax. Potential jealousy nipped in the bud. “Well then, I owe them all a debt of gratitude for bringing you here tonight, hands of fate as it were.”

“Yea, big fans, totally had to see you okay tonight.” Amy was well and truly sloshed, but only enough that her normally quiet self actually spoke. Jeanne was grateful that she was the only one that far gone, the rest were much looser drunks than the demure art teacher.

“Well in that case, how about I sign a few thing as thanks? Oh, maybe let's do a group selfie! I bet that will leave anyone impressed!” Cereza smiled brightly at the group and their ensuing enthusiasm for the idea.

She was as in control of people here as she was on stage. Jeanne had to marvel at this skill, wondering where on Earth she had learned it so well. She'd certainly never had any kind of need or opportunity all the years of growing up...

Reluctant though they were, Jeanne and Cereza released each other as their two groups coalesced, the band cheerfully answering all questions poised to them or signing photographs of themselves that had appeared out of nowhere. Jeanne was thankful that her friends kept the fan gushing to a minimum.

She caught the members of Umbra staring at her more than once, their eyes flicking between her and Cereza with pensive expressions. To be fair, she also caught her own friends doing the same. Neither side seemed to truly believe their connection, and she could hardly blame them.

“Wait, hold on,” Sam abruptly cut their own conversation with Claire, eyes snapping over to Cereza with sharp interest, the outburst was enough to silence everyone else. “Is she the one that ‘Snowy Woman’ is about?” they pointed directly at Jeanne, the rings on their fingers glinting.

Jeanne frowned, trying to remember the lyrics of the second song they had performed that night.

“Ah hm,” Cereza cleared her throat and Jeanne was astonished to see the faintest blush dash her cheeks. “Yes, Jeanne was my inspiration for that song,” she brought her hand up to her mouth and half covered it before mumbling, “and a few others I’ve written, if I’m being honest.”

Jeanne turned to her, eyes wide and her own blush burning across her cheeks. Cereza gave her a small embarrassed smile.

“Rapid water hair, ice cold eyes, my snowy woman melts only for me,” Trish mumbled the lyrics with unfocused eyes, then giggled madly, “Holy shit Jeanne it’s totally about you and- oh, oh wow.”

Umbra laughed, Jeanne’s co-workers grinned in stunned silence. Cereza half smirked and rubbed at the edge of one eyebrow. Jeanne’s blush deepened and she buried her face in her hands. She wasn’t allowed to wallow long, Cereza gently pried one of Jeanne's hands free and brought it to her lips to softly kiss, her expression full of open affection.

“All right all right, enough grab-assing.” a nasally voice broke up the moment, and diminutive portly man appeared from the same hallway they had come from. He gave a Rodin, who had taken up a stance near the exit door, a nervous glance as he passed by, “thought you were here to keep the groupies outta here Rodin.”

“I invited them Enzo,” Cereza cut in breezly, “I saw an old friend in the crowd and I just had to see her again. Rodin was very sweet in passing along my invite for me.”

Enzo squinted at Jeanne, and at the lack of space between her and Cereza. Jeanne decided right there that she wasn't very fond of this man and his pinstripe suit.

“'’Friends’ huh, yea sure…” he chuckled and the sound oozed sleaze. “Well, you are all very beautiful women, and the band always appreciates their fans, but we've gotta get a move on.” He motioned to the Umbra, the lit cigar in his hand trailing smoke as he moved. “We've got paying VIP’s who want their turn with their favorite band. So let's go, andiamo!”

“Always a buzz kill, Enzo.” Bree sighed, offering up a fist bump to Silvia.

“I'm your manager, not your Butler, somebody's gotta keep you nuts in line if we all wanna make a paycheck.” Enzo made a shooing motion.

“Wait wait, before we go I promised these wonderful ladies a group photo, can't waste a backstage opportunity like this.” Cereza waved at Rodin. “Would you be so kind as to take a few photos for us? That would be lovely.’

He uncrossed his arms and took a step forward. “If you stand over there,” he tilted his head to a section to the side, “the light will be best.”

“Perfect! Now ladies if you'd hand over your camera or phones to my associate and let's all crowd together…?”

There was a handing over of devices, then a shuffle as they all tried to get into position, Jeanne's group nervously trying to remain at respectful distances to which Umbra half laughed and pulled them in with arms slung around their shoulders. Jeanne found herself pulled back into Cereza's side, the hand on her hip gentle but firm.

Trish was on Cereza's other side, Cereza's arm around her shoulders and an ecstatic expression on her face. Claire was on the receiving end of a half hug from Sam, wearing an equally dreamy look. That left Tina standing with Silvia and Amy posing with Bree.

“Alright, everyone saaaay, Magic!” Cereza called, making Jeanne tense slightly.

There was a chorus of “Magic!” And several flashes, Rodin trading off phones in a quick and practiced manner until each of them had several shots on them.

“Take a look.” he said, offering the phones back to their owners.

Jeanne loosened her arm from Cereza to accept her red Mato X back, only half glancing at the photos for a quick moment to make sure none of them were out of focus.

The rest giggled and chatted, pointed at or zooming in on the pictures.

“Alright alright,” Enzo interrupted the sharing of screens. “Ladies, thank you so much for supporting Umbra and the Witch, we really appreciate fans like you, but now I really gotta insist that we take our leave.”

Panic stabbed though Jeanne's guts and she resisted the very strong urge to reach out and grab Cereza's hand. She settled for casting a wide eyes look Cereza’s way instead. She hadn't thought this far ahead, they hadn't hardly a moment to talk, and there was so much to talk about, so much she needed to say-

Cereza brushed their hands together, her index finger hooking around Jeanne's pinky. “Duty does call and all that. Rodin, would you be so kind as to escort my new friends to their ride home? Make sure they get there safely please.”

When Rodin nodded and the Umbra started to walk off, saying heartfelt goodbyes and giving handshakes or hugs, Cereza turned to Jeanne.

“Jeanne I… please, can you stay a while longer? Here with me? I do have to work a bit longer but after that…” there was an edge of fear in her eyes, her pretty lips turned down in worried lines. “I know it's late but-”

“I'll stay,” Jeanne gripped Cereza's hand firmly, “of course I'll stay, Cereza.”

“Um Jeanne?” It was Silvia, she was glancing between the two of them with concern, “are you sure? I mean… um.”

“I'll be fine, I promise, thank you all for looking out for me.” She managed a genuine smile. Honestly it was all thanks to them that any of this had happened in the first place, she couldn't help but be touched by their continuing concern.

“Com’on Sil,” Trish wrapped her arm around Silvia's shoulders, “Jeanne's a big girl, she can call a cab if she needs one.”

“If she needs one.” Amy giggled this so low it was hard to hear her.

Claire winked Jeanne's way, “Don't do anything I wouldn't do, Jeanny.”

Jeanne blanched at their antics. “That doesn't exclude much of anything, Claire.” She replied dryly.

“I know, that's the point.” Claire shot back, then, in a much more chipper tone, “Witch, you rock! We love you!” She flashed Cereza a 'rock-on’ sign and started after Rodin, who stood waiting for them in the hall.

Cereza blew a kiss after Jeanne's friends as they walked away, all of them chatting animatedly and casting sly looks over their shoulders as they went. When they were out of sight, Cereza asked.

“Do they have a ride home? I don't think any of them should be driving.”

“Amy’s cousin is an Uber driver, he's waiting for them outside. No one wanted to be the DD tonight. They'll be fine.” Jeanne assured her, suddenly feeling the lateness of the night and the tiredness in her bones.

It took her half a second to realize that Cereza was staring at her, and when their gazes met, Cereza glanced down at their still intertwined hands.

Jeanne flinched. “Sorry I-” Cereza's grip tightened as she tried to pull away, then slowly lifted their hands to eye level, the crimson ribbon still wound between Jeanne's fingers.

“Do you want it back?” Jeanne blurted the first thing that came to mind and then immediately regretted it.

Cereza blinked and then chuckled. “Out of all the ribbons I've given away, this is the first one to come back to me in anyway, and I couldn't be more pleased at who it found for me.” She toyed with the rhinestone clip on the end, letting it sway between them. “They are my gifts to the people who supported me all these years, and I cannot think of anyone more deserving of it than you.”

Jeanne's throat stuck, welling with a cascade of emotions that she didn't have room to release. “Cereza I-”

“Hey Witch! Get a move on, the band is waiting for ya!” Enzo’s shout broke their moment and Cereza sighed in exasperation.

“I'm sorry. But I promise you we will have time for a talk, a good long one. We'll have time for us,” her face softened, and the touch of fear was back, “I mean, if that's what you want…”

Jeanne reached up and cradled the side of Cereza's face, the action automatic as it was affectionate. “Yes. Yes that is what I want.” She wasn't entirely sure of what all she had agreed too, but this was Cereza, there was very little implied there that she would have any opposition to.

Cereza’s mouth split into a bright smile, her gunmetal blue eyes shining...

“YO-”

“Coming Enzo!” Cereza yelled, cutting off her band manager off with a roll of her eyes.

She turned and lightly tugged Jeanne along by their held hands. “Come on, we'll be in the VIP lounge, they'll be lots of questions and autographs and picture taking for another hour, but there's also great catering and a minibar, I promise it won't be too boring.”

“Cereza,” Jeanne picked up her pace to walk alongside her, “ if there's one thing I learned about you years ago, it's that being around you is never boring.”

“You haven't seen the half of it!” Cereza flashed her devil-may-care grin.

“I look forward to seeing more.” Jeanne shot back with her deepest sultry tones, gratified to see Cereza's pupils flare slightly at her words.

Cereza pulled them to a dead stop, smack in the center of the backstage still half full of people rushing about. She turned, and pulled Jeanne in for their second kiss that night.

There was so much to be said, so many years and loss between them. But in this uninterrupted kiss, Jeanne allowed herself to hope they could go back to the way they had been before.

Their hands tangled together in the red ribbon, their fates bound as one.

#Bayonetta #BayoJeanne #BayoJeanneweek #Bayojeanne week #fan fiction #Jeanne #AU

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the-nysh · 8 years ago

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Opm loose ends and unknown plot threads

Notes I’ve collected from multiple rereads of the webcomic, on plenty of things that have yet to be addressed or concluded in the story. -MANY SPOILERS AHEAD-

The Organization’s true identity and motives. Responsible for the battle suits worn by Hammerhead (retrieved by two of their robot agents) and the robot sent to fight King (which Genos defeated and used to acquire new parts). Both instances were for collecting battle data. Supposedly they’re an independent group, but mysteriously have no other leads.

Whereabouts of the Mad Cyborg. Who it is, who made it, and whether or not it’s even still alive. Concluding Genos’ revenge arc and paving the way for how he decides to live afterwards. As of ch108, Genos’ hatred and determination to defeat it have not wavered, but by now, simply facing it and enacting revenge are not his only priorities anymore.

Saitama’s visit to Dr. Kuseno’s lab. Kuseno is VERY interested in meeting Saitama after everything he’s heard from Genos about him. Allowing Genos to bring Saitama with him ‘next time.’ Still has yet to happen!

The truth of Lady Shibabawa’s ‘the earth is in trouble’ prophecy, coupled with Psykos’ Third Eye glimpse into the future, the events of which drove her to madness and fueled her hatred of humans (inciting the formation of the M.A.). She has yet to reveal to Fubuki exactly what she witnessed. Unknown if the two prophecies are related, but some calamity is going to happen (it wasn’t Boros or Garou), and the recent increase in monster occurrences only fuel that ominous premonition.

The being called ‘God’: giver and (forceful) taker of Homeless Emperor’s light energy powers. The exchange which cost him his life via absolute primal fear to spontaneous combustion in one of the webcomic’s creepiest wtf moments. (Seriously, wtf happened – he appeared on another plane of existence and burned Homeless Emperor’s mind alive!) Unknown if this being is legit or not, but he appears at whim and seems to bear hostility towards humans. Only Zombieman knows of his existence now, wary that such a being may be the one pulling the strings. The term ‘God’ HAS been mentioned in the story before, particularly by Dr. Genus as the being who bestows upon everyone their given Limiter.

Garou’s whereabouts and next steps in life after his thorough defeat (physically and verbally) by Saitama. He regained his will to live and escaped execution after the child he saved vouched for his heroism. Whatever path he decides to pursue now will be interesting to see.

When Blast will return. Revealed 18 years ago as Tatsumaki’s inspiration to become a hero. His costume and mannerisms bear considerable likeness to Saitama’s. He works another job and similarly only does heroism as a hobby, staying aloof and preferring to do things his way. H.A. representatives believe he will return only when the world is in grave danger. (hmm? Perhaps when the prophesized calamity finally happens?)

Both Sweet Mask and Bofoi (Metal Knight) have their eyes on Saitama. In Sweet Mask’s case, he’s become obsessed with the ‘beauty of overwhelming power’ witnessed during the Garou battle. (Sweet Mask’s monstrous powers are creepy enough, seriously what IS he!?) While Bofoi’s stable H.A. position has been further compromised by Saitama’s inadvertent interference (destroying his defense bots). He’s interested in challenging Saitama for his own gain (and keeping tabs on him), but he may have an added grudge against him now too! Genos will NOT like either of these creepy dudes targeting Saitama, that’s for sure.

Speaking of which, follow up on how Metal Knight is Genos’ enemy. (wtf and we haven’t even heard from Drive Knight since Boros! Except thanks to Murata adding him into the latest manga chs) Bofoi may have ties to the Mad Cyborg, perhaps even past history with Kuseno. Him targeting Saitama will likely give Genos added reason to hate him as well.

How Lightspeed Flash and Sonic are related. Both of them have similar stances and techniques; they could be brothers or rivals from the same school. Both acknowledge Saitama’s strength in different ways too. In Flash’s case, he wishes to polish Saitama’s potential by training him.

Black Sperm and Rover, currently depowered and following Saitama for cover. Rover seems to have become an obedient demon pet, but Black Sperm is scheming to gain his powers back. Unknown if he has plans to turn hostile again or if he’ll stay in Saitama’s party as the ‘Dimple’ of opm.

Fate of the H.A and Neo Heroes. It’s uncertain how much longer the H.A will survive following the Garou aftermath. Their continued losses, scandals, and dwindling public support have left them scrambling to save face and recruit replacement personnel who have either resigned (like Bang) or transferred to the new upcoming hero group: the Neo Heroes, led by Accel. However, their promises to reform the H.A.’s base policies and better serve the people are dubious at best. Whether the H.A. runs bankrupt or salvages their current situation to compete against the Neo Heroes remains to be seen.

What’s inside Dr. Genus’ basement, supposedly concerning his research/evidence on Limiters. Zombieman requested the Dr. to try and remove his, but the process cannot be that simple. It’s unknown whether ANYONE other than Saitama has, or will be able to successfully break theirs (Garou failed). So far Saitama remains the sole exception, surpassing his body’s average physical limitations through the strength of his own willpower.

How Genos will obtain the level of strength he seeks, unbound by the limitations imposed on him by his mechanical body. Coupled with a goal he can fully commit himself to in the long run, even beyond that of the Mad Cyborg. So far, his firm determination to stay by Saitama’s side remains unbreakable.

How all these things will affect and/or involve Saitama. In the short term, whether his current H.A. residence will only be a temporary accommodation (if the H.A. falls), and in the long run, whether he will ever find the challenge he seeks OR realize there are other things in life that can bring him fulfillment. Acknowledging who his real friend(s) are will be a start…

#opm #meta #speculation #webcomic spoilers #WHEW BOI this got long #i'm probably forgetting many things too XD #i don't blame ONE for being tired!#anyone is free to add on to this list too #so many things to catch upon rereading!#i don't see the series ending anytime soon with all of these things left hanging ;D

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crushingonrazz · 8 years ago

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Whoa Bro No

I had an AU idea that has probably been thought of before, but I have no idea by who, but anyway, I thought it would make for a funny chapter.

This one time, skeleton incest is not considered to be an acceptable behavior. This kind of dirty lying will never appear in my stories again, I can assure you xD

Just warning you, this is really self-indulgent and a large portion of it doesn't make sense. If any of you feel that this isn't what you didn't pay for, please direct all comments and concerns to your nearest real-life human because I'm not changing a dang thing. Thank you!

Support Me on Ko-Fi?

"Damn it, I wish this would stop happening," growled Fell as he picked himself up out of the snow that covered the ground thickly. "You and me both, buddy," came a drawling voice from behind him. Fell huffed and turned to help his lazy alternate stand up. As Stretch brushed himself off, the others that were scattered around them began to stand as well, Red muttering his agreement with the other two under his breath. "Maybe this version of Comic won't try to kill and eat us!" chirped Blue, ever the optimist. "Hey, it's a version of you, too!" Comic groaned, massaging his ribs where he had landed much too hard. Blue shrugged, helping Rus to his feet. "I mean, you could technically say I'm more a Papyrus than a Sans." "Oh, I'm sorry princess, what's your given name again?" Red shot out rudely. Blue stuck his tongue out at him and Red responded by flipping him off. "Okay, children, let's go find the Sans here so we can go home," Fell said, rolling his eyes and starting down the path. The others followed behind, Red and Blue still bickering and Comic interjecting a pun here and there to egg them on. The path from the landing spot to the skeleton brothers' house was always a long one, but Fell's annoyance with the other members of their party made this trip seem even longer. When the house came into view, Fell breathed a quiet sigh of relief at the fact that there were Christmas lights visible. The first time he had seen a version of his home with them, he had thought they were the stupidest and most useless things he had ever seen. While he still believed that to be true, he had long since discovered that any world where they were a feature didn't seem to be immediately life-threatening. He led the others straight up to the front door, knocking confidently and taking a step back. There was some shuffling, then the door flew open and there stood a skeleton that looked almost exactly like Rus. Fell blinked. Despite their numerous misadventures through the multiverse, most versions of himself differed from one another in one way or another. The way they dressed, the way the looked, something. But this skeleton almost seemed to be an exact copy of their classic counterpart. "OH. HELLO!" said Papyrus, looking shocked for only a moment or two. He seemed to consider something, then he stepped aside and said, "I THINK YOU'D BETTER COME IN." Fell stepped inside, followed by the others, who all shuffled their feet and looked around cautiously. Rus was the last to step inside, and Papyrus looked him up and down, grinning widely, before proclaiming, "I SEE YOU HAVE BOTH A HANDSOME FACE AND A GREAT TASTE IN CLOTHING!" Rus smiled back, and said, "OF COURSE I DO! I AM VERY GREAT, AFTER ALL!" "Oh, no, there's two of them," came a voice from the direction of the kitchen, and Fell turned to see an... almost-exact copy of Comic standing before them. This version, instead of being dressed in the signature blue hoodie and black shorts, was wearing jeans and a white t-shirt under a blue apron that read "Bone appetite" in large white letters. As they noticed him, he untied the apron quickly, hanging it on a hook by the door way before stepping into the living room. "Nice to meet you," he said, holding out a hand to Blue. Blue grimaced, then seemed to resign himself to his fate before reaching out and grasping the other's hand. Sans just shook his hand and let go, starting through the motions of shaking another hand before noticing the shocked looks on everyone's faces. "Uhhh...Something I can help you with?" he asked, seeming uncomfortable. Comic spoke up, shoving his hands deeper into his coat pockets. "We were expecting a whoopie cushion." Sans's face lit up, and he let out a short laugh. "Oh, man. It's been a while since I've done that!" Papyrus frowned at him and folded his arms, though he seemed to be trying not to smile. "YES, AND WE'RE ALL GRATEFUL FOR IT!" he said loudly, prompting another grin from Sans. "Anyway, why don't you guys come sit down? I assume you're here for a reason," he said, gesturing at the couch. Red, Comic, and Stretch made a beeline for the more comfortable seats, Red throwing a weak attack at Stretch when he tried to make him sit in the middle. Fell, Rus, and Blue all seemed to sigh at the same moment before following, Blue plopping himself down on the floor in front of them and Rus sitting carefully on the arm while Fell elected to stay standing where he was. Sans watched this procession with a look of mild confusion and amusement before turning to Papyrus. "Don't you need to get ready for work?" he asked softly. Papyrus looked between Sans and the others, then raised a browbone in a more serious look than Fell had ever seen Rus have. Sans pushed lightly on his chest plate, grinning. "I'll be fine, Paps. Go get ready, you don't want to be late." Papyrus nodded slightly and made his way upstairs, making it halfway before Sans called after him, "Can you check on Roman while you're up there? It's about time for him to wake up." Papyrus nodded, making a motion that said well duh and continuing up the stairs. Sans turned to the rest of them, his grin much less wide now that Papyrus was no longer in the room. "So, I assume this is some sort of alternate timeline thing? I've seen the theories, but this is an entirely new step." "Yeah..." said Comic distractedly, his eyes following Papyrus up the stairs before he frowned. "Who is Roman?" he asked quietly. Sans gave him a strange look. "My son...?" he said, seeming confused. Then his eyes widened. "Do you not have--" All three of the Sanses shook their heads quickly, Blue looking particularly shell-shocked at the idea. Sans nodded slowly. "That explains a few things," he said quietly. "Like what?" asked Red, already bristling. Sans raised an eyebrow and folded his arms. "Like the fact that you three--" he gestured widely at the three lazybones taking up the majority of the couch, "--smell like weed and bad decisions." Comic and Stretch both just shrugged and nodded slightly, entirely aware of their bad decisions, but Red glared at the other angrily and opened his mouth. Before he could say anything, Rus piped up, "I'm afraid we will need to borrow the machine in your basement to return to our worlds." Sans nodded again. "Of course, I can take you down there as soon as--" He was interrupted by the sound of a door opening upstairs, accompanied by the sound of an annoyed babybones. Sans glanced upstairs, momentary worry flashing across his face as he listened. After a moment, he seemed to relax, then Papyrus appeared, holding a small skeleton close to his chest. "HE NEEDS TO BE FED, SANS, BUT I HAVE TO GO TO WORK!" he sounded distressed in a way they all knew very well from their varying amounts of time with Rus, and Sans smiled fondly. "Don't worry about it, Paps. Here, hand him over, I'll take care of it in a minute." He crossed the room and held out his arms, taking the baby from Papyrus and cradling it closely. "Now get to work, you're running a bit late!" he said, grinning again. Rus leaned over to Comic as Papyrus pulled on his boots and said, "Maybe you should spend some time with this Sans. He could teach you something." To which Comic rolled his eyes and sank deeper into the admittedly comfortable sofa. As Papyrus ran out the door, Sans crossed back to them, rocking Roman, who had quieted when he had been handed to his father. They all waited for a moment before Fell spoke up. "As you were saying--" he began, only to have Sans wave a hand to quiet him. "Just a sec," he said quickly, seeming to be waiting for something. Suddenly, the door burst open and Papyrus come rocketing back in and over to Sans. "I FORGOT SOMETHING VERY IMPORTANT!" he announced, and Sans grinned, turning to face him. "Same thing as usual, Paps?" he asked jokingly, and Papyrus scrunched up his face in annoyance before seizing Sans by the chin and planting a very chaste kiss on his teeth. "I LOVE YOU VERY MUCH, SANS! HAVE A VERY GREAT DAY!" he proclaimed, then planted another kiss to Roman's forehead before turning back to the door. Sans nudged him lightly on the shoulder. "Go to work, Papyrus, seriously, you're gonna be late!" he said, but he was laughing, and Papyrus didn't seem to take him very seriously as he grinned back and left the house. Sans sighed happily and adjusted the baby in his arms before turning back to his guests. They were all staring at him with a mixed range of emotions, from disgust to shock. He felt his smile falter slightly. "What?" he asked, confused by the suddenly very angry air in the room. "Dude..." started Stretch, but he was cut off by Red. "That is absolutely disgusting," he growled, making a face and trying not to look at his own brother. Sans looked even more confused. "What, kissing? You can't honestly expect me to believe you thought this baby actually came from Santa or something. We're married, of course we kiss!" Comic choked, and Blue squeaked, "You're married?" Sans looked even more confused at this. "What, you're not?" "NO!" came a chorus of six voices, all with varying degrees of disgust in their voices. Sans made a face, shifting the baby in his arms. Fell noticed this, and then his eyebrows raised. "Oh my god...is that his baby, too?" he asked, sounding horrified. Sans turned to glare at him. "I'm not even going to dignify that with a response," he growled, seeming to get slightly annoyed at the others reactions. "What is the problem here? You're all alternate versions of me and Papyrus, right? Why is this such a foreign concept to you?" "Uh, maybe because that's absolutely disgusting. How could you want to marry Papyrus?" asked Red incredulously, earning himself a hard smack to the back of the head from Fell. Sans was staring at them all, anger very present in his expression. "What the hell is wrong with marrying Papyrus?" Stretch crinkled his nose. "Frankly, I'm more concerned about the fact that you had a child together. Why would you do that to the poor kid?" Sans was getting more and more pissed. "I don't know if you're trying to insult me or my husband, but I can tell you right now that I don't appreciate it, buddy." "Ugh, we're not trying to insult either of you, just your life choices," drawled Comic, causing the other to glare more directly at him. "I mean, I dunno if incest is just not a bad thing here or--" "Incest? What the hell are you talking about?" asked Sans, bristling further. "Sans," said Rus, as gently as he could manage. "I don't think that it's fair to the child to have created it between brothers. It could cause problems for your son later in life--" "Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Sans said, holding up one arm. "I think there's been a misunderstanding here. You guys are all brothers?" "Papy and I aren't biological brothers!" said Blue, causing Stretch to choke and look at him in shock. Blue ignored him and continued. "Is it the same for you?" Sans looked floored. "No...by Asgore, not at all. We met in school five years ago, we aren't related in any way!" There was a long and awkward silence before Comic spoke. "Well, as the first of many long and awkward apologies.." he began before gesturing across the room. "Fell here has got a lot to say, I'm sure--" "Shut the fuck up, Comic," he snarled, as embarrassed by their assumptions as any of them. Stretch sat up slightly, pointedly avoiding Sans's eyes, and said, "Dude, there's a baby like right there, what is wrong with you?" Fell flipped him off with both hands and Sans sighed deeply. "I think we'd better get you guys home so that I can take care of my kid. Let me show you how to get to the lab." He led the others through a door under the stairs, all of them trying very hard not to say anything more than was necessary, but Stretch grabbed Blue and pulled him aside before they joined the others. "The hell do you mean, we aren't biologically related?"

Want More Stuff Like This?

#cososchaptersyo #undertale #undertale fanfiction

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ladystylestores · 4 years ago

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Review: Palm Springs is a fresh, slyly self-aware addition to time loop trope

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Andy Samberg and Cristin Milioti relive the same day over and over in Palm Springs, now streaming on Hulu.

Last year gave us two innovative multiverse twists on the well-worn time-loop trope: the Netflix comedy series Russian Doll, and the horror/comedy Happy Death Day 2 U (a sequel to 2018’s Happy Death Day). One would think there wouldn’t be many new veins to mine in this subgenre, but Palm Springs rises to the challenge, delivering a slyly subversive, charmingly self-aware time loop tale that toys with audience expectations in subtly surprising ways.

(Some spoilers below, but no major reveals.)

Screenwriter Andy Siara (Lodge 49) wrote a draft of the script while still a student at the American Film Institute, although there were no science-fiction-y time loop elements in that version. He has said he was inspired more by Leaving Las Vegas than Groundhog Day. Eventually he reworked the script with the help of Director Max Barbakow (Palm Springs is Barbakow’s directorial debut), and Saturday Night Live alum Andy Samberg (Brooklyn Nine-Nine) signed on to star in the film. The film premiered earlier this year at the Sundance Film Festival (pre-coronavirus), and sparked a bidding war for distribution rights. Neon and Hulu ultimately shelled out a purported $17.5 million for those rights—the biggest deal yet in Sundance’s history.

Per the official premise: “When carefree Nyles (Samberg) and reluctant maid of honor Sarah (Cristin Milioti, How I Met Your Mother, Fargo) have a chance encounter at a Palm Springs wedding, things get complicated when they find themselves unable to escape the venue, themselves, or each other.” It’s Saturday, November 9, of an unspecified year (although that date fell on a Saturday last year). Nyles is attending the wedding of Abe (Tyler Hoechlin, 7th Heaven) and Tala (Camila Mendes, Riverdale) with his younger girlfriend Misty (Meredith Hagner, Search Party), who is one of the bridesmaids.

Meanwhile, Tala’s sister Sarah, as the black sheep of her family, mostly deals with the nuptials by drinking heavily. (“It’s not good wine,” Daisy the barkeep warns her at the reception. “I don’t care,” Sarah responds.) She also forgot to prepare the traditional maid of honor’s speech. That’s when Nyles steps in, delivering a note-perfect toast to divert attention from the drunken Sarah. Over the course of the evening, that initial spark of attraction strengthens, and when Nyles reveals that Misty is cheating on him with Trevor (Chris Pang, Crazy Rich Asians), Sarah agrees to sneak off with him for a hookup.

That’s when things get weird. Just as Nyles is stripping down, a crazy guy named Roy (J.K. Simmons, Counterpart) shoots him with several arrows. A badly wounded Nyles flees into a nearby cave, urging a horrified Sarah not to follow him. But she does, and finds herself sucked into a glowing orange vortex—before waking up in the same bed as before. It’s Saturday, November 9 again. When she confronts Nyles, he confesses that they are stuck in “one of those infinite time loop situations that you may have heard about,” reminding her that he warned her not to follow him into the cave.

Palm Springs sets itself apart from the outset, because when we first meet Nyles, he has already been “looping” for an indefinite, but clearly long, period of time—long enough that he has become cynically resigned to his fate of reliving the same day (and wedding) over and over and over. It also takes a page from Russian Doll, in that there is more than one person caught in the loop.

Sarah (Cristin Milioti) wakes up on the morning of her sister’s wedding.

YouTube/Hulu/Neon

The groom, Abe (Tyler Hoechlin), and the bride, Tala (Camila Mendes).

YouTube/Hulu/Neon

Peter Gallagher has a cameo as father of the bride Howard, with Jacqueline Obradors as step-mom Pia.

YouTube/Hulu/Neon

Nyles (Andy Samberg) horns in to give a speech at the reception.

YouTube/Hulu/Neon

Sarah is amused and drawn to Nyles.

YouTube/Hulu/Neon

He warned her not to follow him into the orange-glowing cave.

YouTube/Hulu/Neon

Nyles finds he is no longer alone in his time loop situation.

YouTube/Hulu/Neon

Sarah doesn’t take the news well at first.

YouTube/Hulu/Neon

Another wedding guest, Roy (J.K. Simmons), also finds himself stuck in the time loop.

YouTube/Hulu/Neon

Two crazy dudes snorting coke in a bathtub.

YouTube/Hulu/Neon

Sarah and Niles decide to revel in the absurdity of their situation.

YouTube/Hulu/Neon

A little target practice.

YouTube/Hulu/Neon

If you’re going to hijack a small plane, it might help if you know how to fly.

YouTube/Hulu/Neon

Putting on a show at the reception.

YouTube/Hulu/Neon

Sarah throws a party for Nyles at the local drive bar

YouTube/Hulu/Neon

The strength of this approach is that we get to experience the same looping day from different perspectives—and Nyles gets to watch Sarah work through all the various stages of processing her situation that he did, offering his jaded “been there, done that�� commentary along the way. Think committing suicide will close the loop? “I’ve done a lot of suicides, so many,” Nyles said, advising that she make it as quick as possible if she’s going to try it. “We can’t die but the pain is very real. There’s nothing worse than dying slowly in the ICU.” When she drives back to her home in Austin, TX, she still wakes up back in Palm Springs. “One time I smoked a bunch of crystal and made it all the way to equatorial Guinea,” Nyles confesses. “It was a huge waste of time.”

Eventually, she comes around to his philosophy that nothing matters and they might as well have some fun to pass the endless days. And as with Groundhog Day, Nyles soon realizes he loves Sarah, the person who made his infinite time loop existence tolerable. But Palm Springs isn’t your typical rom-com morality tale about becoming a better person to win the girl. Both Nyles and Sarah were damaged and unhappy before they got caught in the loop, and the second half of the film takes on a more earnest, bittersweet tenor, as their facade of pretending not to care starts to crumble. This is evident when Nyles chastises Sarah for a particularly cruel act against another character, which she excuses because the day will just reboot anyway. “The pain is real,” he reminds her. And that means “what we do to other people matters.”

When it comes to fictional time loop science, less is always more.

Can you really know somebody if you nothing about their past? What if every day you wake up, you are reminded anew of the pain you caused someone you love? Or, perhaps worse, what if you had a pretty good life, and now will never get to see how it all unfolds? The film explores all of these questions, to varying degrees, and takes us to some unexpected emotional places in the process.

As for what caused the time loop in the first place, it has something to do with an earthquake during the wedding that reveals the mysterious cave with the glowing orange light. Eventually Sarah takes advantage of the infinite loop to learn some physics. She hypothesizes that the cave is home to a so-called “Cauchy horizon”: a theoretical point inside a black hole (beyond the event horizon) where determinism breaks down, and the past no longer determines the future.

It’s not a well-fleshed out (or scientifically accurate) explanation for a time loop, but that’s okay. Milioti told Vulture that in the initial cut of Palm Springs, Sarah gives a three-minute speech explaining the physics behind what she and Nyles are experiencing, but it was cut in the final edit. “It was just so long,” she said. “And while it completely explained everything, they had all these screenings for friends and family and they were all like, ‘The speech is great, you don’t need it.’” When it comes to fictional time loop science, less is always more. (The physics-experiment-gone-awry explanation in Happy Death Day 2 U was the weakest element in an otherwise entertaining film.) Just set up the rules of the game, and let the cause or origin of the loop remain a mystery.

I’m not a hardcore Samberg fan, but he gives a sweetly acerbic performance as Nyles, and his strong chemistry with Milioti is ultimately what makes Palm Springs work. You’ll be drawn in by the sharp, smartly irreverent humor, but you’ll be won over in the end by the film’s considerable heart.

Palm Springs is currently streaming on Hulu.

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dontfindyourcenter · 6 years ago

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Chapter 9/Trial 3: Trial hard with a vengeance

Rules: https://dontfindyourcenter.tumblr.com/post/177027661290/rules

Previous Chapter: https://dontfindyourcenter.tumblr.com/post/177417565235/chapter-8trial-2-grass-and-electric-boogaloo

Ok guys, I know I’m meant to go to the Battle Royal Dome. I know the game spent a whole lot of the last chapter name dropping the Battle Royal. I know that I am, eventually, going to have to go into the Battle Royal Dome.

But I don’t have to go in yet. And that makes me kind of curious! Since the very beginning of this game, I’ve been unable to wander too far ahead of the plot development in front of me. When I had to go to the trial on Brooklet Hill, two unbattlable Sudowoodo stood in the way of route 6; when I first touched down in Heahea City, a man riding a Stoutland blocked the way to the other half of Heahea City; and I can hardly think of a single pathway from one part of Melemele Island to another that wasn’t originally blocked off by either a tauros, a barrier, or the disembodied voice of an NPC. So with nobody blocking off the alley leading away from the Battle Royal Dome, how far can I actually go without going in?

All the way to the top of Wela Volcano Park, as it turns out! It’s only when I get to the gates of the third trial when someone finally says “uh, you can’t go in here, you have to have a cutscene introducing the trial captain after the Battle Royal first.” I’m glad the game is starting to recognise that it doesn’t need to hold the player’s hand quite so tightly, and I celebrate my freedom by picking up all the items I can find both inside the Volcano Park and in the watery area outside on route seven, including the TMs for Thunder Wave and Rock Tomb.. Poor Hau and Gladion are probably going bored out of their minds waiting for me to turn up, and I don’t care one bit.

All right, I think that’s everything. Let’s see what this Battle Royal fuss is about, shall we?

Oh yeah - the Masked Royal is here to inject the game with campy fun! Something that I really enjoy about this game is that - as far as I’m aware - his true identity is technically never revealed. Oh, a lot of people in the game make some wild accusations about it being Professor Kukui, but apart from the two characters sharing their skin colour, little goatee, signature pokemon, and habit of baring their chests… there’s no actual proof. Ok, also I guess they reveal later in the game that Kukui owns a mask that looks identical to the Masked Royal’s one, but what, are we meant to believe wrestling merch isn’t a thing in this world? Headcanon: Kukui is just a massive fanboy of the Masked Royal’s.

The Masked Royal ropes me, Hau and Gladion into a battle royal, then says “and now we have our foursome. Woo!” Please don’t call it that, mister Royal, you’re a barely-clothed grown man talking to a group of children.

Anyway, the Battle Royal starts, with Hedwig going toe to toe with Royal’s rockruff, Gladion’s type:null and Hau’s brionne. Having met Hau before, I know that he’s the weakest player here, so I focus all my attacks on his brionne. His brionne faints. The Battle Royal is over. What a terrible introduction to a cool new feature of the game.

And having finished that, we get the cutscene with Trial Captain Kiawe I was promised! The camera immediately focuses on his bare chest, where it becomes apparent that he’s wearing a necklace in the shape of a games console’s “+” control pad. Dude, we get it, you’re a gamer.

I’ve already pointed out how much of an edgelord Gladion is, and he’s at it again here, doing a whole monologue about he and his pokemon have to make it on while covering half of his face with his hand. “Oh no the disembodied hand from before is back and it wants my eye! Flee! Flee for your lives!” Even Hau picks up on how over-the-top it all is, calling him a “ray of sunshine” as he walks away. I get the feeling there’s probably a lot of fanfiction about those two.

All that done, my pokemon have been fully healed. Don’t know who did that or when, but I’ll take it. And just in time for the third trial, too! To Wela Volcano Park, everyone!

Since I can remember that this trial doesn’t let you switch the order of your team around between battles, I put Celine McQueen the Slowpoke in first position, because I think she’ll have the best chance against the totem pokemon. In the meantime, though, I don’t want her getting tired out, so I switch her out to other members of my party to take care of the non-totem pokemon.

First up is a dancing alolan marowak, and since it’s part ghost type, I switch to Jabba the alolan grimer. Jabba does a fair bit of damage by biting it, but here’s the bit I stupidly overlooked; it’s a marowak. That means it knows Bone Club. That leaves Jabba on less than half health. Correctly assuming that the marowak will use Bone Club again, I switch to Hedwig, who’s immune to ground type moves, and since he outspeeds marowak, he’s able to finish the marowak off with no trouble.

Next up, the internet’s favourite photobombing Hiker, who sends out a magmar. My initial response is to send out Wash the trumbeak, since he’s a strong pokemon that is nevertheless unlikely to be particularly useful in the totem battle. The magmar thwarts me, though, by continuously using smokescreen until Wash’s moves have no chance of hitting at all. Frustrated, I apply a super potion to Jabba and send him out again, and he’s able to beat the magmar with a couple of Rock Tombs.

Finally, the totem Salazzle! Her aura flares to life and boosts her special defense, which frankly stops Celine being quite the secret weapon I was hoping for - the only psychic- and water-type moves she currently knows are both special attacks, and her special attack isn’t her best stat to begin with. I think this battle’s going to be a toughie. She starts things off with a Toxic attack, while Celine uses yawn, and then a wild salandit gets summoned to join in the fun. Feeling like Celine might be more useful later on now that she’s already yawned, I switch out Nina. It’s a good thing I do too, because the salandit uses venoshock, which does double damage on poisoned targets.

Nina can take a hit, though, and now the totem is asleep, so she doesn’t have to worry about being hit by toxic. I decide that it might be useful to use sand-attack a couple of times, hoping that I’ll get the totem’s accuracy low enough by the time she wakes up that I won’t have to worry about Toxic quite so much. No such luck though, because the supporting salandit uses taunt, stopping me from using any other status moves. I use rock throw instead, and end up doing quite a bit of damage before she wakes up and uses toxic. Luckily, the salandit only uses poison gas, which is useless with Nina already poisoned. Still, time to switch out to someone new, I think.

I choose to send out Wash, the only pokemon on full health without a major weakness against my opponents. It’s at this point that the single sand-attack I managed to use earlier surprisingly pays off; Salazzle’s attack misses, and Wash is able to use two whole attacks against it during his time in battle. Even better, one of those moves is pluck, so I can rob the Salazzle of an advantage I didn’t even know it had - a Petaya berry, which (had it not been stolen) would have raised her special attack as a result of that very hit.

Less fortunately, Wash is only on 8 HP now, so I have to switch pokemon again. I’m quickly learning that this is a pretty major disadvantage when you’re facing two pokemon against one, since it gives both opponents a free move. So even though the salazzle won’t be able to take another hit, the pokemon I switch in will have to be able to take four hits in order to deal that finishing blow (unless it manages to outspeed the salazzle, but the only pokemon likely to do that is Hedwig, who definitely can’t take three hits from these guys). Since both my opponents seem to mostly use poison-type moves, I think my best bet is Jabba.

I was wrong. Salazzle uses Flame Burst and it does much more damage than I was expecting, and salandit uses scratch. Jabba faints. ...That’s not great.

Ok, wait, maybe I can use a revive and still salvage this. Celine might be poisoned, but she’s on nearly-full health. If I let out Celine and use the revive, she’ll still be able to take two hits, and then I’ll be able to switch pokemon to someone else and be really sure that salazzle won’t use flame burst, because that’s a terrible move to use on a slowpoke. It’ll be ok. Here we go.

I was wrong again guys, venoshock did more damage that I was expecting too, Celine dies. Fuck.

I guess it’s time to accept that not everyone is going to make it out alive.

Resigned to that fate, I actually manage to finish the battle without all that much trouble. With Celine dead, I’m able to send out Hedwig without giving the other two any free moves. Hedwig doesn’t outspeed the salazzle in the end, but does manage to evade her attack and finish her off. At this point, I realise that I actually already know all four of the salandit’s moves and none of them are fire-type moves, so I switch in Digit Al, who beats it easily. But with Celine dead, it’s a bittersweet victory. I’ll really have to train more before the next trial. Sorry, Celine McQueen.

Still, on the plus side, the average quality of my team’s nicknames has just shot up.

Weird plot hole here, by the way. Kiawe says “the totem pokemon was carrying a firium z. It is yours now.” That’s a bare-faced lie! The totem was carrying that petaya berry, and even totems can’t carry more than one item! What’s that all about? Still, Kiawe gives me ten quick balls, which should be helpful for catching Celine’s replacement. I can let him off for telling a weird lie.

On my way out of the mountain, I catch a cubone to fill Celine’s slot in my party. Since I know she’ll evolve into an alolan marowak, I call her Donna, after the Mamma Mia character. You see, she’s a dancing queen, and there’s a fire within her soul. Could have been worse, when all is said and done.

End of chapter 9

#donna #mamma mia #pokemon #pokemon sun and moon #Pokemon moon #Alola #no Center challenge #suicide run challenge #kiawe #trial captain kiawe #gamer

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