#they were also an hour and a half from Disney World to add to the theming

[longlivetv]

Why was she a snowman? I joined the fandom in Folklora era thanks 😊

So, the special guest she is on stage with is Idina Menzel that voices Elsa in Frozen, so the song they did together was Let It Go, and Taylor was Olaf and Idina was Elsa. Why she picked Olaf instead of Anna, I legit don’t know, but I think because she thought it would be funny, and it was 😂

[hollyethecurious]

CS AU: Once Upon A Grimm (2/?)

Summary: The world was far more complex than most people realized. Humans went about their lives, completely ignorant of the fact that there was a world of fairytales existing right alongside them. Well, not really fairytales. Not in the Disney sense, anyway. Many, like the Grimm brothers, had woven the truth into their stories, but the creatures they wrote about were even more nightmarish than their macabre and monstrous depictions. Creatures known as wesen. Supernatural, other-worldly beings who have always lived among humans and have always been hunted by those who had come to be known as Grimms. A struggle of secrecy, balance, and power among these species has existed since the beginning of time. This is a story of a man with his own struggle. The internal struggle of being a human, a wesen, and a Grimm, and the external forces that seek to eradicate one or all of his natures, especially those he tries to keep hidden. Fortunately, Killian Jones is not alone in his struggles nor his secrets. His personal savior, Emma Swan, has secrets and struggles of her own.

A/N: This fic is inspired by and will borrow from the NBC show Grimm. I confess I did not watch Grimm when it first aired, but absolutely fell in love with the show during a binge fest years later. If you have not seen the show, no worries! My beta - who has not seen the show either - assures me that it is not necessary. If you have seen the show, then I hope you’ll forgive the huge creative license I am taking with the material. This is not a strict Grimm retelling with Once characters. This is my own spin on the lore and cannon of both shows.

Sorry I am so late with this update. I underestimated how demanding real life was gonna be now that we are back in full swing with school. I'll do my best to stay on track going forward!

I cannot express how much I have enjoyed being a part of the @cssns all these years. Thank you to the mods who have kept it going year after year. We've had a terrific run! Huge shout out to @kmomof4 for always being my cheerleader and for her exceptional beta skills. A HUGE thank you and many fangirl squeals to my artist @eastwesthomeisbest for the amazing job she did on the cover art that accompanies this fic. Please go show her some love!

FYI: Because the show took cues from the Grimm brothers’ works, much of the vocabulary associated with the supernatural creatures was based on German or German coded language. For words like wesen and woge (which will be explained in the text) the w is pronounced with a v sound on the show. I’ll be using terminology from the show and more common creature names interchangeably within the fic.

Rated E (eventually) / Also available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!  / Prologue

Chapter One

Two and Half Years Later…

“What have we got?”

Killian approached the scene with his partner, Robin. Their mate and uniformed officer, Will, brought them up to speed, keeping his voice low as the men conversed on the walkway that led to the grand house towering before them.

“Grace Hatter. Eight years old. Never made it to school this morning,” Will informed them, reading over his notes. “Father says she left the house at a quarter to eight like usual. An hour later he got the call from the school telling him she was absent.”

“Do we know if he’s clean?” Killian asked, assessing the distraught man who was being questioned by other officers.

“No,” Will replied. “Dad’s name is Jefferson Hatter. We're looking into him.”

“Mom?”

“Deceased.”

“Okay. Thanks, mate. We’ll go have a talk with him.”

Killian and Robin continued up the walkway. When the father caught sight of them, he rushed down the front steps to meet them halfway.

“Are you the detectives?”

“Yes, sir,” Robin responded. “Detectives Locksley and Jones. Can you tell us more about your daughter? When you last her? What she was wearing?”

“Yeah, um…” The man took a moment to try and compose himself. His hand shook as he brought it up to run down his face. A shuddering breath filled his lungs and a sob caught in the back of his throat. “She uh, she left here about 7:45. She’s wearing purple leggings and an oversized, purple top that has a white rabbit on the front of it. She also had on a red hoodie and her backpack is pink and purple with her name on it.”

“Does she often walk by herself to school?”

The man, Jefferson, nodded, tears welling in his eyes. “Ever since the beginning of the school year. She wanted… She wanted to be a big girl this year.” He took out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the freshly fallen tears drops from his face. “I was reluctant, but the school isn’t far and normally she walks with another little girl and her brother down the block.”

“But not today?” Killian inquired.

“No,” Jefferson answered. “Ava and her brother are both out sick this week. Grace walked alone yesterday, so I didn’t see an issue with her walking alone again today.” His face reddened, the tears now cascading down his cheeks as he pleaded, “Please. You have to find my little girl, please!”

“We’re going to do everything we can,” Robin promised him, digging a card from his pocket. “An officer is going to stay with you as we canvas the neighborhood, but if you think of anything else, give us a call.”

“Th-Thank you, detectives,” Jefferson said, taking the card then following one of the officers back to the house.

“So, what do you think?” Robin said under his breath as they turned back towards the street and surveyed their surroundings.

“If he’s involved then he’s an excellent actor,” Killian replied. “I think it more likely she was grabbed on her way to school. The question is… where?”

The street was lined with houses on one side, facing a wooded park area. The little girl would have made her way to the end of the block then turned to go around the woods. The school was located on the other side, about seven blocks away.

“We’ve spoken with all the neighbors who are home along the route she would have taken,” Will said, joining the detectives. “No one saw anything.”

“Maybe she didn’t take the usual route,” Killian said, jutting his chin towards the woods. “Maybe she took a shortcut.”

“Dad was very specific about the route,” Will told him. “He said Grace wasn’t allowed to cut through the woods.”

“Yeah, and we all know you did everything you were told when you were a kid,” Robin quipped, slapping Will on the back before heading towards the woods.

The three of them followed the worn path, carved out of the foliage by those who had used the woods as a shortcut over the years. Although focused on the task before him, Killian could not help but acknowledge how fortunate he was to do this job with his two best mates at his side.

It had been a series of unfortunate events that had led them here. Two and half years ago, he and Robin had been uniformed officers at different precincts and Will, after washing out of the academy years before, owned a local bar. After being attacked and having his life, once again, turned upside down, Killian had spiraled a bit. Neglectful of his duty and spending too much time at Will’s bar had made him a less than stellar candidate for detective, despite his high scores on the exam. However, everything changed once more the night Will’s bar went up in flames.

Though it had been deemed arson, they still weren’t sure how it had happened. The explosion and fire claimed the lives of more than a dozen officers and detectives from both Storybrooke and Glowerhaven. In the aftermath, personnel had been reshuffled, reassigned, and reevaluated, giving Killian a second chance at a detective slot and transferring Robin to the Storybrooke precinct. Will, determined to bring the perpetrator to justice, had reapplied to the academy and finished top of his class before being assigned to the Storybrooke PD.

Although the arson case had gone cold, Killian and Robin, with an assist from their favorite uniformed patrolman, had managed to garner the highest number of closed cases of any rookie or veteran detectives within the city or its outlying suburbs. Robin often joked that the reason the three of them were so good at this job was because in another life they would have been criminals themselves - and therefore knew how their perps thought - dubbing themselves the pirate, the bandit, and the thief.

Of course, he had no idea that Killian possessed abilities beyond those of a normal human detective which gave him an advantage. Abilities he was currently applying in the hopes of bringing this little girl home safely.

When the trail forked, the trio branched off in separate directions. Once out of sight from his mates, Killian crouched down and closed his eyes, homing in on the sounds around him as he inhaled deeply. Over the years he’d made peace with his wolf side. It wasn’t always easy to keep the wesen reined in, or explain away how he’d been able to accomplish some of the things his supernatural abilities allowed him to do, but as time went on he found ways to balance his human and wesen side.

Not able to pick up anything out of the ordinary, Killian resumed his search further up the path. A moment later, Robin’s voice called out.

“I’ve got something!”

Killian rushed towards Robin’s voice, arriving alongside an out of breath Will. Both men were too focused on the pink and purple backpack laying among the ferns to notice Killian’s lack of exertion.

“Grace Hatter.” Will read the name where it had been monogrammed in bright pink, confirming it belonged to their missing girl. “She must have been grabbed somewhere in this area.”

“Careful where you step,” Killian reminded them. “Will, call it in and inform the others that we have a crime scene in Wonderland Woods Park across from the victim’s house.”

Will stepped away to radio it in, leaving the detectives to peruse the area.

“Killian, we got boot prints here. They look fresh.”

Killian noted the direction of the prints and commented, “He took her this way.” Setting off down the path, he shouted over his shoulder, “Stay with Will until CSU arrives. I’ll see where the prints lead.”

Once out of sight, Killian crouched down again and took in a deep breath. The hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention and a primal growl rumbled in the center of his chest. He could tell the scent was wesen, although he wasn’t sure what species. There was something vaguely familiar about it, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on why.

Never before, since his transition, had he ever wished for the moon to be in its full cycle. If it were, then his sense of smell would be stronger. He’d be able to discern the little girl’s scent better, as well as her abductor’s, and he’d be able to tell which direction the two had gone once they’d reached the road on the other side of the woods.

Cursing under his breath, Killian made his way back to Robin and Will. The Crime Scene Unit had already arrived and the area was being cordoned off so they could work making casts of the boot prints. Killian eyed Grace’s backpack as it was being bagged and tagged so it could be processed for fingerprints. He wished he’d gotten a chance to scent it, but the K-9 unit was already seeing to the task.

“There isn’t much more we can do here,” Robin told him. “Will and the other officers will follow up on the neighbors they didn’t get a chance to speak with earlier. Maybe one of their security cameras will have caught them coming out of the park.”

“Aye,” Killian said with a resigned sigh.

Clapping Killian on the back, Robin suggested, “Let’s go get some lunch. By the time we’re done, more evidence will have been collected and processed, then we can focus on whatever they found.”

“I suppose I could eat,” Killian relented. Robin was right. There was nothing more they could do that the other officers didn’t already have handled. They’d need their strength and their wits about them for the long afternoon and evening ahead. “Where did you have in mind?”

“How about Aesop’s?”

Killian cocked a brow his partner’s way. “Aesop’s? A bit swanky for lunch isn’t it?”

Robin shrugged. “I hear they have a great burger menu.”

“Mhmm,” Killian hummed. Something in Robin’s demeanor had him dubious as to whether that was the real reason. “I suppose we could check it out,” he replied with a shrug of his own, followed by a wolfish grin. “So long as you’re buying.”

~/~

“So that’s the real reason you wanted to come here,” Killian ribbed in a sing-song tone. “The lovely and elusive Miss Mills.”

Robin’s cheeks flamed pink behind the bun of his burger as he took as long as he possibly could to bite off then chew a mouthful.

“You know this constitutes stalking, right? Why not just ask her out?”

Robin swallowed and chased the bite with a sip of water, once again taking his time running his napkin over his mouth before placing it back in his lap.

“You’re hopeless,” Killian exasperated, getting up from his seat. He shot a wink over his shoulder to his mortified partner as he approached the nearby table, teeming with lawyers in their power suits. “Miss Mills?” he said in a feigned tone of surprise.

“Detective Jones,” she said in a friendly yet reserved greeting. “Funny running into you here?”

“Aye,” he said. “The lunch burger menu was recommended to Robin and me, so we thought we’d give it a go.” He gestured back towards the table Robin was metaphorically trying to hide beneath. Miss Mills - Regina - gave him a wave which he awkwardly reciprocated. “I won’t keep you,” Killian continued. “I was on my way to the facilities when I spotted you and just wanted to say hello. Enjoy your lunch.”

“Thank you, detective. A pleasure seeing you,” she replied, though her attention was not set on him but rather still subtly fixated on his partner.

When Killian exited the lavatory hall on his way back to the table, he slowed his steps and his lips twitched up in a smile. Robin and Regina were standing at the table conversing as the prosecutor’s colleagues were filing past, on their way out the door. Regina slipped Robin her card, her painted lip caught between her teeth, and he accepted it with a full, bright smile. Killian chuckled to himself, eager to take the mickey out of his friend, when something in Regina’s countenance shifted.

She’d turned towards the door, prepared to follow her colleagues, when her entire body went rigid. Something rippled through her expression and Killian was taken aback by what he saw.

She woged.

Regina Mills was… a hexenbeist?

No. He had to be seeing things. She couldn’t have woged. If she had, the entire restaurant would be in an uproar, especially Robin. There’s no way anyone would have missed the gruesome sight of a hexenbeist revealing her true form. Unless…

No. That wasn’t a possibility either. The full moon wasn’t in cycle yet, so there was no way he could have witnessed a demi-woge. Could he?

Regina’s features returned to normal, but her posture was still stiff and on guard. He followed her eyes to try and determine what had prompted such a response and was stunned to see another woged hexenbeist casually standing by the hostess stand. She had flaming red hair and was dressed in a tight, green dress. When her human face presented itself once more, she wore a smug, slightly challenging smirk.

Finally collecting herself, Regina marched past the woman without a word or backward glance, but the red-haired witch watched her all the way out the door and down the block.

“Did you see that?”

Robin’s question shook Killian from his shock, but a fresh, confused panic spiked within him. “See what?”

“The text,” Robin said, lifting his phone for Killian to see. “We’ve got a body.”

“A body?” Killian parroted, attempting to get his racing heart under control while processing what his partner said.

He didn’t see it, then. Didn’t see them change. Then why did I?

“Not Grace Hatter?” Killian’s heart dropped a little as his mind finally caught up.

“No,” Robin assured him. “Not the missing girl, but the captain wants us to take point on this one, too.” He beckoned Killian to follow him through the tables towards the exit. “I’ve already settled the bill. Will’s waiting for us at the scene.”

Before heading out the door, Killian scanned the restaurant for the red-headed hexenbeist, but saw no sign of her. He tried to shake off the unnerving feeling her and Regina’s woge had elicited in him. The mystery of why he had been able to see it at all would have to wait. He had more pressing issues to concern himself with.

~/~

“Are you sure this is even a homicide?” Killian heard Will ask under his breath. “Looks more like an animal attack?”

For the second time that day, Killian’s hackles rose. The scene before him was familiar. Too familiar. He could remember, as though it were yesterday, making the same inquiry to the detectives working a similar scene. A scene that had led to Killian being attacked and transformed. A scene that had been declared an animal attack after the DNA had come back as inconclusive. A scene where no other evidence had been left behind except…

“We got a boot print!”

Killian’s entire body reacted in a ripple of goose bumps and a sharp inhale confirmed the truth as a familiar scent penetrated his sinuses.

It’s him! He’s back. The blutbad who attacked me. The blutbad who made me. He’s back and he’s killed again. He’s killed again and… HE’S TAKEN GRACE HATTER!

“Oi! Kill, er… detective. You alright?”

“You look as though you’ve seen a ghost, mate.”

Killian’s Apple apple bobbed painfully. “We need to go see the Captain. Now.”

It was a quick ride back to the precinct, though Killian’s silent stewing had probably made it feel longer to his partner. Robin knew him well enough to not pepper him with questions when he was like this, allowing him space to get his thoughts together. It didn’t mean his mate didn’t side-eye him with furtive glances the entire way back to the station, though.

“Captain Gold, do you have a minute?” Killian asked at the open doorway of their captain’s office.

“For my two best detectives? Of course,” Captain Gold said, gesturing them forward. “How’s the investigation going into the missing girl? Or is this about the body we found? A jogger who was a student at the local university?”

“Actually,” Killian hedged, still unsure how he was going to convince his captain and his partner of what he knew to be fact. “It may be about both.”

“Go on.”

Killian and Robin took a seat in front of the captain’s desk. Leaning forward, Killian began to fill them in on what he’d pieced together.

“A little over two years ago, there was a hiker who was attacked in a similar fashion to how we found the jogger today.”

“I remember,” Gold said, nodding his head. “That was ruled an animal attack, wasn’t it?”

“Aye,” Killian said. “The DNA was inconclusive, but that wasn’t the only evidence left at the scene.” Flicking his eyes towards Robin, he said, “There was a boot print. Just like the one at the scene today. And that’s not all…” Sitting back, Killian wiped his hand down his face and let go a heavy breath. “The same day the hiker was attacked and killed, a little girl went missing in Glowerhaven.” Robin’s eyes widened and Killian knew he didn’t need reminding, but the Captain still needed to know. “I know because Robin helped work that case and we were mates back then.” Setting his attention back on his captain, Killian continued. “Look. I’m not saying all these cases are connected, but we did find boot prints where we suspect Grace Hatter was abducted, and it all feels a little suspect to just be coincidence.”

Captain Gold tented his fingers in front of him, and his eyes narrowed at Killian. “I’m inclined to agree,” he said, after a few agonizing seconds. “It’s all too coincidental to not look into.” His eyes shifted to Robin. “Locksley, reach out to Glowerhaven and see if you can get a copy of the missing girls file from two years ago. Check it for any similarities to the Grace Hatter case. Jones,” he continued, focusing his attention back on Killian. “Follow-up on the boot print. See if the one from the hiker’s scene matches the jogger’s, then compare it to the ones we found at the abduction site.” With a dismissing nod, he added, “Keep me informed.”

“Yes, Captain,” the two detectives replied on their way out of Gold’s office.

“How did you put all of that together?” Robin asked. “Remembering that girl from more than two years ago who went missing the same day a hiker was mauled? I don’t think I would have put that together.”

“I don’t know,” Killian deflected. “Something about that night just… stuck with me, I guess.”

“Well, good pick up,” Robin said, clapping him on the back. “I’m gonna call GPD, then head over to collect those files. Check in later?”

“Aye,” Killian told him. “Later.”

It took Killian less time to confirm the boot prints were a match at all three scenes than it did for Robin to make it back with the files. Although it proved the crimes may be connected, the boots that matched the prints were a very common brand. It would be nearly impossible to find their suspect that way. Frustrated, Killian shot off a text to Robin and Will, letting them know he was gonna go out for some air.

There had to be a way of finding this monster.

Not that he hadn’t already tried. He’d gone back to the scene of the hiker’s mauling time and time again in search of any clues, hoping to discover the identity of the killer and the wesen who had turned him. Once the case had been cleared from homicide, investigators believing a wolf or mountain lion had caused the grizzly death, there had been little Killian could do inside the law. He’d been too preoccupied with the changes he was facing as a newly made wesen to pursue the blutbad on his own, and too worried about what his brother’s reaction might have been if he’d turned the case over to a Grimm. A Grimm who might have been able to detect such changes in his little brother.

Now, he couldn’t help but feel as though the jogger’s death and the missing girl were his fault. He should have told Liam about the rogue blutbad or gone after it himself.

He wouldn’t make the same mistake this time.

Digging his phone from his pocket, Killian dialed his brother’s number and held his breath as the call rang.

This is Liam Jones. I’m not available to take your call. Leave me a message.

“Liam. It’s Killian. Call me back. I’ve got a situation here that might require your expertise.”

Typical.

Killian’s phone vibrated in his hand. He glanced at the screen, expecting it to be Liam returning the call. Instead, the caller ID displayed Will’s name. Killian knew he’d been pouring over videos collected from neighborhood cameras, and he was eager to hear if he’d found anything that might help them locate the missing girl.

“Will? What you got?”

“Not much,” Will confessed over the phone. “I’ve checked all the cameras we collected from Tweedle Drive, the street the perp would have exited the woods from, and there’s nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Nothing?” Killian asked, defeated. “From the whole street?”

“Well, there’s a bit we don’t have footage of, but none of the videos show any car, truck, or van he may have used to move the girl. The only vehicle on the street at that time was the mail truck.”

“The mail truck?” Killian repeated, an idea coming to him. “Do me a favor. Find out who was working that route today and whether the postal service issues a certain type of boot for their employees' uniforms.”

“You think it was the postman?”

“It’s the only lead we’ve got,” he told Will. “If nothing else, the postal worker may have seen something. We should track them down as a potential witness.”

“I’ll get right on it.”

“Text me the name when you’ve got it.”

“Will do.”

A renewed rush of hope filled Killian as he made his way back to the precinct, but it was hindered by a fresh realization.

If the postal worker did turn out to be their suspect, then he wouldn’t be going up against their usual perp. He’d be going up against a wesen. A blutbad. And not just any blutbad… his sire. The one who had turned him. Would he know? Even without the full moon bringing out his wesen characteristics, would his sire be able to tell what he was?

Killian stopped short of the station door and did an about face. He needed to better prepare himself for this confrontation, and there was only one person who would be able to help him do so.

Searching his contacts as he made his way to his vehicle, he prayed this call would not go to voicemail.

His prayer was answered.

“Hello?”

“Swan. It’s me. I need your help.”

~/~

The fingers of her left hand drummed against the counter as the nails on her right were being assaulted by her teeth. Normally, Emma Swan would not allow a situation to unnerve her this way. Of course, it wasn’t the situation, not really, it was the man involved in the situation. The man who only came in once a month to pick up his wolfsbane tonic and share polite pleasantries with her or her brother, who assisted her at the shop. The man who had agreed to keep things between them strictly professional after the one time thing incident that had occurred early on in their association. The man who had kept to that promise… until now.

He wasn’t coming here for his tonic - the full moon was still over a week away. He wasn’t coming here for tea, or spices, or herbal remedies, or anything within the purview of her business. No. He was coming here because he needed help on a case. He was coming here because he had nowhere else to turn. He was coming here because he needed… her.

Although they had managed to keep one another at arm’s length these past two years, it hadn’t been that way at first. The month following his attack and introduction into the wesen world, they had texted and chatted numerous times, having built a rapport by the time of the next full moon.

A rapport that simmered with attraction and temptation.

Fortunately, they had both understood the seriousness underlying his stay with her during that first full moon. Setting aside the obvious chemistry between them, they focused instead on the alchemy of finding the right balance of wolfsbane. Everything had gone as expected… until it hadn’t.

“Emma, sweetie,” Granny said in her admonishing tone. “Are you trying to drive us both mad with your fidgeting?”

“Sorry, Granny,” Emma mumbled, removing her nail from her teeth and flattening both hands on the counter.

The elderly woman’s soft, weathered hand covered hers and she gave it a light, comforting squeeze. “What’s got you all riled up? You said he was a regular customer.” Her eyes narrowed and her head tilted to the side. “Is it because he’s a lycanthrope?” Patting Emma’s hand she assured, “I may not look it, but I can still hold my own. If he gets unruly, then--”

“No, it’s not like that,” Emma said, cutting the woman off in a rush, not wishing her to get the wrong impression. “Detective Jones is much more disciplined than lycanthropes are believed to be. He’s… he’s a good man.”

“Then why on earth are you worked up in such a state?” Granny inquired. “I can practically smell the anxiety and tension wafting off of you.”

Emma chewed her bottom lip, then silently cursed herself. Get a grip, Emma. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she straightened her posture and schooled her features. “It’s nothing.”

Granny let out a dubious hum. “Try again,” she said. “If you want me to help a lycanthrope - and a detective to boot - that has you all tied up in knots then you’re gonna have to give me a reason.”

Emma released a heavy sigh. She knew Granny was right. The woman was going out on a limb for her, the least she could do was give her the truth.

Given that she expected the detective to arrive at any moment, Emma quickly told Granny about her and Killian’s first meeting, and the subsequent month that had followed.

“Sounds like the two of you became fast friends,” Granny remarked, though Emma thought she could detect something slightly off in the woman’s tone. “What happened?”

Glancing at the door, Emma wasn’t sure if she was irritated or relieved that he hadn’t arrived yet. She’d never told anyone what had happened.

“He came to stay with me for the full moon, as planned,” she began.

“Here?” Granny asked, knowing the proprietor lived above her shop.

“Yes,” Emma confirmed. “In my spare room. I wanted us to be close to the workshop so I could make adjustments on the fly.”

“What do you mean?”

Swallowing, Emma told Granny about the experiments they did, testing the effectiveness of the wolfsbane. “Things like, provoking his temper and trying to elicit responses that were more primal,” she hedged, with half a shrug of her shoulder, “to see how well he could keep control under such stimuli.”

“And?” Granny prompted. “How did he do?”

“He did great,” Emma said, then winced slightly as she added, “Until August showed up.”

A knowing huff left Granny. “Yeah. I’d imagine the presence of another male might have set him off a bit. Did your brother come away unscathed?”

“Barely,” Emma replied. “Killian didn’t know who August was and when he saw him hugging me he… woged.”

“As in… fully?”

“Yeah.”

“That must have been intense for all of you.”

“It was,” Emma sighed. “I had to use magic to diffuse the situation, but once cooler heads prevailed and I was able to introduce the two of them, I thought things were resolved.”

“Until?”

Emma’s mind flashed back to the morning after he’d woged and tried to attack August. The morning after the final full moon.

“So… you made it through your first full moon.”

“Aye. Thanks to you, love.”

“No need to thank me,” she told him. “I should be thanking you.”

“For?”

“For not ripping out my idiot brother’s throat,” she said in a tone mixed with amusement and annoyance. “I told him not to come here this weekend, but does he listen?”

Killian hummed, a sultry, toe-curling sound, and sauntered forward. “Perhaps gratitude is in order then?” he murmured, tapping his lips suggestively with a raised brow and challenging smirk.

“Yeah,” she said, a little breathlessly. “That’s what the thank you was for.”

Another sinful sound echoed past his lips as he pressed further into her personal space. “Is that all your brother’s life is worth to you?”

“Please,” she scoffed with an eye roll, trying, and failing, to get her heart rate under control, knowing full well he could probably hear its erratic beat. “You couldn’t handle it.”

The corner of his lips lifted in a feral and taunting manner. “Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.”

The crack of the t against his tongue reverberated through her, and without thought she grabbed the lapels of his jacket, fusing her mouth to his. It took him the briefest of seconds to respond, inhaling deeply before thoroughly devouring her.

It was hot. It was primal. It was all-consuming.

“That was…”

It was a big fucking mistake.

“A one time thing,” she murmured, pulling back from his chasing lips. “We… we can’t do this. I… I can’t do this.”

Releasing him, she took several steps back, unable to meet his eye or look upon his confused expression.

“Swan,” he panted, both of them still working to catch their breath. “Have I… Have I done something? I know attacking your brother was bad form. Please don’t think I’m unaware of the seriousness of that--”

“No, it’s… it’s not that,” she said. “I know you didn’t really have control over--”

“Then what?” he asked. “What’s changed?”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Emma rocked back on her heels and said, “I just don’t think it’s a good idea for us to… I mean… this is all new to you and the last thing we both need is to complicate an already complex situation. I think it would be best if we… kept things professional between us.”

She braced herself for his response, expecting him to be angry. Expecting him to accuse her of leading him on, or taking advantage of him while he was vulnerable. She hadn’t expected him to run a hand through his hair while letting go a heavy sigh before agreeing with her.

“Aye,” he said, softly. “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps now is not the best time to…” Flicking his too blue gaze up to hers, he gave her an earnest smile. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me, Swan. I think I’ll be able to manage on my own now, thanks to you.”

“You’ll still need the tonic each month,” she reminded him with a slight edge of panic in her voice. She didn’t mean for their association to end altogether. “And you can still call or text me if you have questions about--”

“Thank you,” he interjected, cutting her off before she could continue with her offer. “I’ll swing in for the tonic in a month’s time. I’ll be sure to let you know if there are any issues regarding the treatment.” Reaching up, he pawed at a patch of skin behind his ear. “I, uh… I should go. I have a shift in an hour.”

“Right,” she said, letting him pass so he could collect his things from where he’d set them by the door. “See you next month?”

“Aye, Swan,” he said over his shoulder as he exited the shop. “See you then.”

“Only… I didn’t see him then,” she told Granny. “I chickened out and left the order with August.”

“Are you telling me,” Granny chastised, “that you haven’t seen that young man since--”

“No!” Emma replied, indignantly. “Of course I’ve seen him. We just… it’s been…” Another heavy sigh expelled out of her lungs. “After our… shared moment, I did avoid him for a bit and I know he struggled to cope with his transition, which made me feel worse about how we left things, but then there was this fire at his friend’s bar, and he made detective, and I don’t know… something about him changed. Things were less weird when he came in and we managed to carve out this nice, albeit superficial, relationship and yet--”

“The feelings are still there?”

Emma laughed a rather hysterical sounding laugh. “Uh, no. No feelings. I mean, obviously I care about him, as a person, but my current demeanor has nothing to do with feelings.”

“Oh? What does it have to do with, then?”

Emma didn’t get a chance to answer the woman’s smug question. The bell over the door chimed and the two women's heads snapped in its direction. In walked Killian Jones, as handsome and alluring as ever.

“Swan,” he greeted with a reverential nod. “Thank you for seeing me.”

“Of course,” she managed to choke out, her mouth having gone dry. Clearing her throat, she gestured towards Granny and introduced, “This is, uh, Granny Lucas. She runs the new B&B and diner up the street. I thought she might be able to help. Granny, this is Detective Jones.”

“Please,” he said, taking Granny’s hand and offering it a polite shake. “Killian will do.”

“A pleasure to meet you, detective,” Granny said, obviously sizing him up. “You’re not at all what I expected.”

“Meaning?”

Her gaze still assessing him, Granny quipped, “Most lycanthropes have me wanting to rip out their throats within seconds of meeting them, but you… you’re different.”

Killian’s brows shot up and his eyes flicked to Emma even as he continued to address Granny. “It seems you have me at a disadvantage,” he said a little too calmly. “You know about me, yet I have no idea why Swan brought you in on--”

“Granny’s a blutbad,” Emma blurted out, causing his brows to raise even higher as his head snapped back to the elderly woman. “I thought, seeing as you said your case had something to do with a blutbad, and that you needed more information about them, that you’d like to have your questions answered by someone who--”

“Not just any blutbad,” he said, cutting her off in a tone laced with menace and anger. “The blutbad.”

Emma gasped. “The one who turned you?”

“Aye.” His gaze turned dark and his features hardened. “He’s back and he’s killed again. He’s even taken a little girl captive.”

“That’s terrible,” Emma said, keeping herself from reaching out to offer him a hand of comfort. “When did you--”

“Today,” he told her, catching both women up on the case of the little girl and the jogger and how he’d connected them to the cases from over two years ago.

“We found matching boot prints at the crime scenes, but I also detected his scent at each location. I knew there was something familiar about it, but didn’t put it together until I smelled it mixed with the jogger’s blood. It brought back the olfactory memory of that night,” he said, momentarily getting lost in thought until he shook his head and added, “Of course… I can’t enter that into evidence. Fortunately, we have a lead, but I am wary of confronting him without knowing more.”

“More?” Granny said, her countenance a bit stand-offish and very imposing. “Like what?”

“Like,” Killian hedged, wetting his lips and taking a moment to assess Granny as she had him. “Whether I’ll be able to know him by scent even if he isn’t woged. Typically, I can’t detect wesen by scent whilst they’re in their human form or see them demi-woge unless it's the full moon, so I can only assume he was in full woge when he abducted the girl and attacked the jogger.”

Granny remained stoic and stone-faced, still unsure whether she should trust the gemacht wesen in front of her.

“Look,” Killian said with a tone of authority Emma imagined he employed often in his line of work. “I know there’s a code among wesen. This desire to look after one's own kind. But this guy is a killer. He’s killed two people that we know of and may, even now, be holding a little girl captive, so please. Help me find him. Help me find her.”

The reminder of the little girl softened Granny’s features. “If he’s done what you say he has, then he’s putting us all at risk.” Quickly, she flicked her gaze to Emma then back to him, conceding, “You’re right. There is a code among wesen, but it only extends so far. It sounds to me like this blutbad has gone feral, and his behavior is only going to escalate the longer he’s allowed to run wild.”

“Then… you’ll help me?”

Her posture relaxed further and she stepped up to the counter, bringing her closer to both Killian and Emma. Nodding, she said, “Yes, I’ll help you.”

A relieved breath fell from Emma’s lips and she took Granny’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “Thank you, Granny.”

Granny patted her hand then straightened her shoulders, getting down to business. “Now, I’m no expert on lycanthropes, but unless he fully woges, I don’t think you’ll be able to tell whether your suspect is the blutbad you’re looking for. If he is feral, then it wouldn’t take too much to provoke a response, but you’d have to be ready. Once he woges… he’ll be out for blood.”

Emma saw a shudder pass over the detective and she wondered if he was remembering his own experience with an uncontrolled woge.

“What about the girl?” Killian asked. “What motive would he have for taking her?”

Granny pursed her lips together then hesitantly replied. “If he’s feral, and attacked someone before, then he’s likely gotten a taste for human blood.” Killian and Emma both grimaced, sickened by the notion. “I’d wager he attacked and fed on that jogger first. Probably lost control. He knows he’ll be good for another week until the urge takes hold again, but by then it’ll be the full moon and it’ll be risky for him to be out and about. He probably took the girl in preparation of making a meal of her later. Taking her now gives him time to fatten her up.”

Emma thought she might be sick, and while she could see the shared disgust in Killian’s face, she also saw rage.

Granny caught his eye and imparted, “Having her will make him even more territorial and dangerous. So you’ll need to be ready for anything.”

“Will he, uh…” Killian began, haltingly. “Will he be able to discern who I am? What I am?”

“No,” Granny said, shaking her head. “I only made that quip about lycanthropes because Emma had already told me what you are… and I wanted to see how you’d react. You ought to know by now that wesen can only sense you during the full moon.”

“Aye, but he isn’t just any wesen,” Killian countered. “He’s my maker. Are you sure that won’t have an effect?”

“I don’t see why it would.”

Killian’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, a reluctant question seemed to pause at the tip of his tongue.

“So there won’t be any… connection between us, then? No weird side effort of my turning that would make me sympathetic towards him or beholden in some way?”

Granny scoffed and cocked an amused brow at him. “Such sire bonds only exist in fiction.”

Killian’s head fell in relief and Emma could now detect how much tension he must have been carrying over that worry.

“Gemacht sometimes latch on to those who aid and guide them through their transition, and many times that is the wesen who turned them, so if you were to have bonded onto someone it would have been the person who was there for you at the beginning of and during your first change.”

Killian’s head snapped up, his eyes locking onto Emma’s. Her heart stuttered, then began pounding in her chest while her breath remained trapped in her lungs.

Granny’s gaze volleyed between the two of them, her heading tilting to one side as she quipped, “I suppose that explains the pent up tension I’ve been sensing between you two.” A warm smile lifted the corners of her mouth in response to their awkward reaction to the call out, and she assured them, “Don’t worry. The bond was temporary. I dare say enough time has passed that it would be gone altogether.” Her no nonsense demeanor returned as she focused her attention solely back on Killian and asked, “Anything else?”

Unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth, Killian cleared his throat and said, “Just one last thing… Do you know who this blutbad might be?”

“Afraid not,” Granny told him with obvious regret in not being able to provide him a name. “I only relocated to Storybrooke a few months ago, and I find it best to avoid my kind as much as possible.” Her eyes fell down to the counter and on a bit of a grumble she added, “Bad things happen when we get into a pack. Especially when we see red.”

Killian’s eyes went wide.

“What?” Emma asked. “What is it?”

Killian locked eyes with her once more. “The little girl. Grace. She was last seen wearing a red hoodie. And the jogger and hiker both had on red jackets when their remains were found.”

“So, red provokes him?” Emma said, shaking her head in confusion. “But you weren’t wearing red when he attacked you. You were in uniform.”

“Which,” Granny interjected, “along with your natural demeanor of dominance and authority, he would have seen as a threat.”

“Which means he’ll likely view me as a threat when I confront him.”

“Most likely,” Granny warned. She glanced at the clock on the wall, and Emma knew she needed to get going so she could get back to the diner before the evening rush. “My advice,” she said, rounding the counter on her way out. “When you do confront him, do it alone. You don’t want him to feel trapped or backed into a corner, and if things go badly…”

“Aye,” Killian agreed. “I don’t want anyone else getting hurt.”

Extending her hand, Granny offered him a sincere expression as he accepted the gesture. “Take care of yourself, Detective. I hope you can bring him to justice, but if not… bring him down any way you can.”

With that, she said a quick goodbye to Emma then exited the shop.

“Tough old bird,” Killian said in her wake, causing Emma to huff out an amused breath.

“Yeah. Granny is… something else.”

“Terrifying, I believe is the word you’re looking for,” he quipped with a light chuckle.

The two shared a laugh then stood awkwardly regarding one another for a long moment before Killian cleared his throat and said, “Um… thank you, Swan. I truly appreciate your help. I didn’t know who else to--”

“It was nothing,” Emma blurted out, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I mean… I was happy you called and that I could…”

Her words fell away and a wash of something akin to embarrassment or bashfulness swept over her. Her face was hot and her palms were starting to get slick.

You're being ridiculous, Emma. You’re not a silly school girl unsure of what to say to her crush. In fact… you don’t have a crush. This isn’t a crush. This is--

Killian’s phone chimed with a notification. Pulling it from his pocket, he checked the text and his grip tightened to the point that Emma feared he’d crack the screen.

“Killian? What is it?”

Slowly, Killian’s eyes lifted and met hers. The look that swirled in those blue depths made her breath hitch.

“We found him, Swan.” His voice was low, almost a growl, and it made the hair on the back of her neck stand in a way that caused her to shiver.

“Who is he?” she asked in a whisper, only vaguely aware that she was rounding the counter to move towards him.

His eyes never left hers and once she was standing before him, they flickered between her own as he answered. “His name is Quinn Adair. His address puts him outside of the city. Out in the woods.”

Emma swallowed hard as an eruption of worry filled her chest. “Are you… You’re not going to go after him now are you?”

“I have to, Swan,” he insisted. “He has Grace, remember? I have to get to her before he…”

Emma nodded, knowing that time was of the essence for that poor girl who was probably terrified out of her mind.

“Just… be careful?” she said, wetting her lips, which caused his gaze to drop down briefly. “And, um… Call me later so I know how it… so I know the girl is okay… and you.”

“Aye,” he said, pocketing his phone. “I will. I promise.”

She expected him to rush out after that, but he continued to stand there. Conflicted.

“Swan, I know this isn’t the time, but… what Granny said earlier. About us. About the bond that might have been created between us. Was that… Was that the reason you pulled away? Did you suspect?”

“Killian, I…” Emma didn’t know what to say. It would certainly be a plausible reason to give him. One that was safer than the truth.

It would be a lie, though.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, waving off the question and sparing her from having to answer. “As Granny said, whatever was going on between us at the time, it’s likely run its course, so…”

“So?”

Stepping forward, Killian grabbed her hand and lightly held it in his. A rush of goosebumps swept up her arm when his thumb brushed over her knuckles.

“So… Maybe when this case is solved and things go back to relative normalcy, we could… try again?”

“Try again?” Emma parroted. A contradictory cocktail of hope, elation, dread, and panic collided within her as her good sense warred with her wants and desires.

“As friends, I mean,” he clarified, and in tamping down her own disappointment she missed the tone of it in his voice. “We had the start of something I was beginning to cherish and I miss…”

“Me, too,” she told him, turning her hand in his so she could give it a squeeze. Maybe it was reckless. She’d avoided close relationships all her life for a reason, and yet… “I’d love to start again. As friends.”

His smile took her breath away, but it was quickly schooled so he could focus on the dangerous task that lay before him.

“Do you want me to come with you?” she asked, filled with concern about him facing his maker alone. “I know Granny said not to make him feel trapped or backed into a corner, but I doubt he’d see me as a threat. And I doubt he’d be expecting a witch.”

His lip curled up on one side. “As much as I would love to see him go up against your magic, I won’t put you in harm's way like that.” When she opened her mouth to argue, he quickly added, “Besides. I need to try and do this by the book. I’m a cop before anything else.”

“I get that,” Emma relented, begrudgingly. “But I’m going to keep my phone close by in case you get in over your head and change your mind.”

“In over my head?” he said in feigned offense. “I’ll have you know, love,” he murmured in a low timber, edging a bit closer to her. “If there is one thing I’m good at… it’s surviving.”

“Mhmm,” Emma hummed, meeting his taunting expression of challenge with one of her own. “Well, I’m going to insist that you stop by afterward in order to prove that to me.”

He smiled down at her, another message alerting from his phone, indicating it was past time for him to go.

“As you wish.”

Chapter Two - Coming Soon!

Tagging the Curious Crew: (add to tag list)

(Please be advised that I only keep one tag list for all fic updates and new works. If at any time you wish to be removed, just shoot me an ask or a DM. No worries.)

@kmomof4 @jrob64 @zaharadessert @laianely @booksteaandtoomuchtv

@the-darkdragonfly @undercaffinatednightmare @killianxswan @mie779 @motherkatereloyshipper

@jennjenn615 @jonesfandomfanatic @anmylica @superchocovian @caught-in-the-filter

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@exhaustedpirate @cocohook38 @donteattheappleshook @lfh1226-linda @teamhook

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@qualitycoffeethings @idristardis @phoenix-untamed @bluewildcatfanatic @bananachickens

[acedisneyprincess]

I will forever be obsessed with Disney Channel's crossovers. First we had That's So Suite Life of Hannah Montana, so that adds technically six shows to the list if you include the direct spinoffs

That's So Raven

Cory in the House

Raven's Home

The Suite Life of Zack and Cody

The Suite Life on Deck

Hannah Montana

Then came Wizards on Deck with Hannah Montana, so you can add in another (technically two if you consider the upcoming Wizards spinoff)

The Wizards of Waverly Place

Wizards Spinoff

Mr. Moseby appeared in an episode of Jessie so there's two more

Jessie

Bunk'd (also later crossed over with Raven's Home)

There were Jessie crossovers with Austin and Ally, Good Luck Charlie, and Liv and Maddie, of which had crossovers with other shows

Austin & Ally

Good Luck Charlie

Liv and Maddie

I'm in the Band crossed with The Suite Life on Deck for an episode

I'm in the Band

Plus the Monstober crossovers

Girl Meets World (I'm not even gonna get into the bmw crossovers)

I Didn't Do It

K.C. Undercover

Best Friends Whenever

And finally Saturdays (rip you were gone too soon) had a crossover with Raven's Home so

Saturdays

So that's 19 shows and I'm pretty sure all of them had their own version of Selena Gomez at one point or another but it's lowkey nuts to realize you've got actual wizards running a sandwich shop in the same neighborhood as Riley Matthews and they're both a half hour subway ride from the Ross family, meanwhile Cory Baxter lived in the same city as KC Cooper, and the Baxter-Carter(-O'Malley) kids probably tried to audition for Shake It Up at least once.

[bmpmp3]

i shouldnt really be giving any hot takes on character design as someone who, despite having mild success in the adoptable scene in highschool, absolutely does NOT still got it when it comes to character designing (nowadays im just trying to do my best orz) but i do think one of the most important things with character design is that they serve the medium theyre in well.

like, a super exaggerated shape style triangle man with tiny legs a la mr incredible works great for an action cartoon movie but i dont know how good that style would work in a visual novel where you tend to only see the top half of the body. you wont be able to appreciate the tiny legs 😔

and as much as i goof on the visually cluttered anime boys in otome games and their odd fashion choices (kent from amnesia. at least 21 belts. 11 on one arm alone) i genuinely think they work for what they need to do, like all those fucking sashes and scarves and cords and capes and swishy things on the ikemen sengoku guys, painful to draw for me who wants to draw a goofy comic of them but WONDERFUL for an unanimated visual novel sprite, flowing clothes and hair adds a lot of movement to static images that you'll be staring at for 20-50 hours.

but of course on the visual novel/japanese adv game end of things u also have stuff like phoenix wright and the absolutely beautiful hotel dusk that tend to have blockier silhouettes than the fluttery flowing cloth and hair of like, a character in a bishoujo game from Key or something, but their sprites are animated which benefits from the blockier and (usually) less cluttered designs.

and theres still lots of exaggeration to be had to get very varied character designs, like the jake hunter games have a very grounded semi-realistic style but everyones posture and body types and expressions are pretty distinct, just the distinction is focused on the upper half of the body rather than the whole body like you would focus on with a comedy slapstick cartoon or like a comedy newspaper comic strip. okay its becoming increasingly obvious through what im talking about that i grew up in north america in the 00s-10s using deviantart where if ur cartoons didnt look like disney or pixar or like i dont know johnny test ur designs were considered not good enough so im still in that world. im still in that world. i hope the world is more open now

and something like the hotel dusk designs also would work well for drama or thriller comics - like i was also thinking about big sparkling shoujo manga designs and like. in a comic if ur like a garfield slapstick comedy u wanna look like a garfield, but if ur constantly doing closeups with serious emotion like a romantic drama shoujo manga, having big glittering expressive eyes and emphasizing the upper half of the character is pretty effective for the combination of medium and genre. i also think naoki urasawa's character designs would look so so good in a hotel dusk style game, that guy makes like the perfect thriller design, varied and diverse in shapes but so effective for a serious toned horror mystery thriller thing will lots of closeups of characters faces. i guess because i love serious and dramatic stories about people talking a whole lot i do gravitate towards this style of character design, where the emphasis is on the silhouette from the waist up LOL but it really goes to show that some character designs that may not fit the late 2000s comedy animation shape-based design philosophy have their own places where they thrive <- obvious thing everyone knows except for me who was on deviantart too much when i was 12

i think what im trying to say is i think big boobied super busy anime girl vtuber designs are fine, good even. i like em, i think they do the job and a lot of work goes into them. u only have a headshot/bust (heh) shown on screen 99% of the time u might as well make it with a bunch of particle effects and cool hairclips and lace and weird moving head wings or some shit. slap some sparkles on that thang

[agentnico]

Dumb Money (2023) Review

Does anyone else think that Seth Rogen looks like a cuddlier version of David Boreanaz? Angel's stoner brother? No? Anyone? Alright then, just me as always.

Plot: Everyday people flip the script on Wall Street and get rich by turning GameStop into one of the world's hottest companies. In the middle of everything is Keith Gill, a regular guy who starts it all by sinking his life savings into the stock. When his social media posts start blowing up, so does his life and the lives of everyone following him. As a stock tip becomes a movement, everyone gets wealthy -- until the billionaires fight back and both sides find their worlds turned upside down.

Looking back at the COVID pandemic, now it seems so strange that that time even happened. A time of dread and uncertainty, now almost feels like a 2-year blip, where things were off but then all of a sudden we have returned to normal. Doesn't seem real. Think of Thanos snapping his fingers and dusting half the world's population away for 5 years and then they all come back and it's back to regular hijinks. Regardless, the pandemic lockdowns were crappy, but one of the few glimmers of hope and goodness came from that whole GameStop stock event when a bunch of Redditors and online geeks managed to take down multiple Wall Street hedge funds that were originally gaining money from other's people's losses. Reading about it on the news was absolutely mad, and naturally, now we have a movie about it.

If you're looking for a factual detailed behind-the-scenes depiction of what occurred, and also if you're seeking out a lesson in finance, Dumb Money isn't that type of movie. I'm sure there is a Netflix documentary out there that delves deeper into the ins and outs of it all, as for this movie, this is very much a classic David vs. Goliath tale of regular people sticking it to the man. The combination of winning personalities and a mind-blowing reality makes for a very entertaining film, if not profound, yet this is a prime example of a crowd-pleaser. And to be fair, with all the politicians, tech firms, and media that get sucked into the events of the movie, it does seem like director Craig Gillespie has taken some creative liberties in inflating the revolutionary aspect of what was ultimately achieved, as even though the situation that transpired is undoubtedly absurd and the type of I-cannot-believe-this-really-happened situation, I feel the movie made it a bigger deal than it actually was. The over-dramatization is self-aware in this movie though, as the hedge-fund billionaires here are presented as very cartoon-villain-esque, with Pete Davidson's character even observing in-movie how the rich Wall Street joes seeming to have come straight out of a Disney animation.

It boasts a solid cast too, with Paul Dano showcasing yet again that he doesn't always need to play creepy dudes, and that in fact, he can be very likable and heartwarming. Though for those who have seen Okja that should not come as a surprise. Shailene Woodley as his wife shares good chemistry and the two performers commit to the meaning behind the meme-ry. Seth Rogen, Vincent D'Onofrio, Sebastian Stan, and Nick Offerman are fittingly slimy and evil as the Wall Street chaps, with America Ferrera and Anthony Ramos as some of the regular folk who managed to cash in on the action round out the cast well. Dane DeHaan pops in too as a company sales rep and is entertainingly unrecognizable. That being said, with this huge cast of characters there is, perhaps, a little too much bouncing around between stories, and not all the plot threads land powerfully. Pete Davidson as Gill’s layabout brother doesn’t add much, and America Ferrera as the nurse, as sweet as she is, doesn't really get much to do besides look at her phone all the time. Then again, who didn't spend hours upon hours staring at their phone during lockdown, am I riiiiiight??....

Gillespie’s directorial style is funky and fun, and he tailors his film to the subject matter. Again, it's nowhere as deep or clever as, say, The Big Short, however, it's an entertaining and empowering movie that showcases what can happen when people actually come together to show it to the man. Though could have done less with that brass language in the soundtrack. Nearly every scene was accompanied by some rap about f**ks and ducks. And yeah, I get it, Dano's character likes cats in this, but saying the word pussy seventy-five times isn't high-brow humour. Nonetheless, Dumb Money is an easy watch. Definitely the best choice between it and The Expendables. No shade. Now - let's go buy some stocks!!

Overall score: 6/10

[muerteporfavor]

Vacation Update:

I wanted to talk about where I went on vacation (now that I am safely home and am not doxxing myself by doing so)

I went to the Silver Scream Convention created by the band Ice Nine Kills. It was truly magical. I did not have the privilege of going to the first year's convention last year however I have a lot of thoughts on this year's convention from an analysis point of view I guess?

Let me start by talking about a panel that will put everything I am about to say about the convention in context. The Spooktacular panel. There is a documentary style movie coming out (I believe the Los Angeles premiere is happening with all the cast on the 28th of September and then there is a Texas premiere with some of the cast at some point but I don't know when or where in Texas. They are also hoping for a theatrical release but I don't know when or if that will actually happen as it is only in talks.)

Spooktacular is a documentary film for the first ever haunted house to ever grace the country. It's title was Spooky World and was first unveiled in 1991. (Random tidbit: I got a free signed movie poster by the ex-owner/mastermind behind Spooky World plus the director and some guy who had a big hand in the filming process.) Prior to this Halloween themepark (think Disney World but for horror is a common comparison) there were only haunted hayrides. There were also celebrities of Horror/Halloween (including Elvira or Alice Copper, the latter who called spooky world to be there) who made appearances. To wrap this background up let's just say the owner had a 130,000$ loan (I swear he said 150,000$ at the panel but a source online who interviewed him claims 110,000 plus $20,000 in interest so its ballpark somewhere in there.) he had to pay back in like 5 years. And he paid it back in either (I can't remember which) a week and a half or two and a half weeks. Both of which is insanely impressive. (If you want to learn more about the former spooky world search up spooky world Berlin MA on youtube, the owner sold the attraction in 2005 and now it is in New Hampshire.)

Now. With all that being said, I think the Silver Scream Con is going to be the new Spooky World.

The Con just did their second year and it was confirmed by Ryan J. Downey, the host of all panels and Q&As, that the attendance number doubled last year's count. The first panel of the Con (Assault and Batteries with Alex Vincent and Christine Elise) had to add three rows of chairs more before the panel began because there were more guests than they anticipated. The line to see Dead Meat and get a picture/autograph was so long that it spanned the small vendor room from front to back at times. For the other booths in the vendor room it was a lot easier to wait in line so Dead Meat would be an outlier. I also heard from another guest that for the signings in the additional area (labelled Living Room in the schematic) that you'd wait about two hours to meet either Ulrich, Charnas (and company depending on the day), Todd, and Jericho. Personally, I only passed through the room but it was definitely very crowded and busy. (I also heard from another guest that the panel room for Dead Meat's panel was so crowded and hot that they ended up leaving because it caused them to struggle with breathing. This is not a sleight or even a universal experience it is a comment I mention to illustrate how massive this con is. I don't want anyone to think this Con was a Tanacon blunder or something. It wasn't they had plenty of space to do what they needed to do but it was clear that they might soon out grow the venue if their growth continues on the same trajectory.)

Pictured below is the schematic Silver Scream Con posted to their instagram so you can get a rough idea of the space (although I would not say it is necessarily true to size at all, it is a good idea of how things were set up)

Not only that, it taps into a previously untapped market just like Spooky World. The world of horror and alternative music (metal, punk, etc) has always been intrinsically intertwined. Most alternative people love horror whether its for the way the genre speaks to the fears of the time or the way the genre is constantly evolving. Previously, if you wanted to gather as an alternative music lover you'd go to a festival or a concert or any number of underground shows. Meanwhile if you are a horror lover you have, in recent history, always had conventions to go to. Spencer Charnas/ Ice Nine Kills artfully bring both worlds together in a clash that really tears the line between fantasy and reality (in regards to their two recent albums: Silver Scream and then Silver Scream 2: Welcome to Horrorwood where Charnas is the lead protagonist of the album concepts as a killer out for blood and does it through the killers we all know and love.) As far as I know this has never been done before, and if it has, it is nothing in comparison to what Ice Nine Kills and team is doing now. Right now they are making history in a big way.

For a moment I would like to pivot to their concert. At Silver Scream Con they always have a concert where they bring special guests to perform with them plus a couple of opener bands. (This year, I can't speak for last year, Dead Meat James played the Sax during IT is The End and Leah Voysey (actress, from Terrifer, Clown Cafe Host) performed during Grave Mistake. The lines for the concert spanned blocks even when it was divvied up in threes (General Admit being the longest multiple blocks, then you had Psychos Only Access [special subscription for Ice Nine Kills] and their RIP vip line.) The line for general admit was so long I showed up 45 minutes early and missed the first opening act in its entirety while I waited to be let into the City Hall Lynn Auditorium building. (Which actually was disappointing because it was Funeral Portrait.) The line was so massive a guy coming through in a taxi rolled down his window and asked the line who we were seeing because he was so impressed by the line and immediately decided to look them up.

Anyway,

All this to say, I can't wait to see how Ice Nine Kills and staff deal with how explosive they are becoming and I will not be surprised if looking into a new venue for the Convention is in their future.

Cheers for now!

Muerte Por Favor.

[thedisneychef]

Biergarten Nudel Gratin Recipe: German Mac and Cheese

I’ve been obsessed with carbs lately!  Blame it on the diet or my training for the Wine and Dine Half, but I feel like if I were left to my own devices, I’d snack on pasta all day. When I went looking for a pasta recipe, I found this one from Biergarten which made me so happy… Being second generation from Germany and having been to Germany several times, I realized I was also craving some German style food. Since my reservation at Biergarten is still about 75 days away, I thought this was perfect. Now, when I was making this,I had the strangest feeling that I’ve made this recipe before, but I looked and looked and didn’t see that I had… So if I’ve posted it and it’s a repeat I apologize… At least it’s amazing enough to warrant a double-post! More Delicious Recipes You Will Love: - Mickey Waffles Recipe – Disney Parks - Ohana Bread Pudding with Banana-Caramel Sauce - Orange Beef – Polynesian Resort This is super easy to put together (a refreshing change after my birthday recipe…) and it’s incredibly kid-friendly.  Honestly, most home cooks probably have a similar recipe stowed away in their back pocket for fast, delicious family dinners.��If not, they should and this is the one to choose! My only feedback on this recipe is that the quality of the cheese can make-or-break this dish. I wished after I’d had the first bite that I’d invested in nicer cheese than the generic store brand… Nicer cheese would have made this dish absolutely sing! For the caravores out there, you can add bacon or very small diced ham for an extra little something and I bet it would taste fabulous. Really, this serves as an excellent base for something more complex with meats and different cheeses, or it can be served as-is for a ridiculously hearty meal. The great thing was this was an amazing reminder of both my time in Germany and the dinner we had at Biergarten. The fact it could be served in this huge, family-style casserole dish reminded me of lining up in front of the buffet at Biergarten and trying to restrain myself, but it also reminded me of the very traditional dining we enjoyed all through Germany. So many of their meals are food-focused family time (we had meals that lasted for hours… Most of them lasted hours, actually…) and it’s not at all difficult to imagine that this easy-to-make dish that serves an army and tastes good warm or cold would be on the table. Cheesy without being too cheesy, crunchy like chips on the top and sides from that delicious cheese and macaroni “crust,” but soft and ooey gooey in the middle… I’m excited for leftovers and for Biergarten all over again. Conclusion In conclusion, the Biergarten's Nudel Gratin Recipe, also known as German Mac and Cheese, is a delicious and comforting dish that is sure to satisfy any craving for cheesy goodness. Drawing from our firsthand experience, we can attest that this recipe is easy to follow and uses simple ingredients that can be found at most grocery stores. The combination of pasta, cheese, and breadcrumbs creates a satisfying texture and a rich, creamy flavor that is perfect for a cozy night in or as a side dish for a larger meal. Plus, the addition of smoked ham and onions add a unique German twist to this classic dish. Overall, the Biergarten's Nudel Gratin Recipe is a must-try for anyone who loves mac and cheese or is looking for a new twist on a classic comfort food. In addition to the delicious food and recipes, Disney World is also known for its unique dining experiences, such as character dining and themed restaurants. Whether you want to have breakfast with Mickey Mouse, dine in a replica of a sci-fi drive-in theater at Hollywood Studios, or enjoy a meal with an ocean view at the Coral Reef Restaurant in Epcot, there's something for everyone. And with the help of Recipes Today and the How to Make category, you can even recreate some of these magical dining experiences in your own home. So why not start planning your next Disney-inspired meal or dining experience today? Read the full article

[riley-macnally]

"Since that's factually true, I guess I'll let you have it, tiny, not short, got it." He smirks, knowing it was true after all, she wasn't short, but she did have a more petite type of frame that fits in with the requirements of the word tiny. "Sure, I'll even throw in the magic carpet ride just to impress ya." Laughing, he couldn't help but notice just how much he had laughed tonight, all thanks to her. "What's ya go to Disney movies?" He asks, mostly just curious, and also not at all ashamed to follow up with his own, letting her know that he too enjoyed most Disney films. Especially ones with talking animals or, more specifically, snowmen, like Olaf. He really loved that little dude. "Well if you wanna bite a chunk out of the compliment then sure, it's not actually possible, but it's how it looks, at least from where I'm sitting," still smiling gently at her, he offers a small shrug, not wanting to make anything weird, or even overstep, but he couldn't help it. "I see something beautiful and I acknowledge it." He adds, as if to explain what was probably coming across like a very random thing to say in the middle of their other discussions. "Mm, that just feeds into the idea that what we perceive as human is only based on us as a species, you know? Evolution says we were once monkeys, all hairy and wild, yeah? So my question to you would be, if mermaids are real, is their top half something human, or just perceived as human because we're conditioned to think we're the only species that can look that way?" Lifting an amused brow, he doesn't actually expect her to answer, he was basically just taking an idea and adding in some hilarity, voicing what would usually be his strange inner thoughts. They typically didn't make much sense, but something made him feel comfortable enough to voice them anyway, even if it did make her look at him like he'd lost a marble or two.

"Well, I appreciate your sacrifice." Grinning much like a Cheshire cat, he didn't need her to say she was only joking, he could feel it. In all the years he'd been around her, it was quite obvious that she wouldn't still be here if she didn't actually want to be. "Oh, for sure, but it sounds better with my guitar so maybe I'll serenade ya with that next time." Chuckling, he found himself hoping that there would be a next time, exactly like this. Not just a couple hours talking about tattoo designs with a take-out before she left, but staying afterward, having a couple drinks, not watching a movie as they chat into the night. "I am absolutely not," messing with her, even if the mischievous smirk on his lips would say otherwise. "What fool told you that?" He snuffs lightly, shaking his head, amusement clear in his features. He knew he wasn't dumb, but typically, he never held his intelligence above others, he was humble, to say the least, as a good man should be. "Why's there gotta be logic to it?" Tipping his head to the side, he takes a sip from his beer and shrugs. "The world is wide, full of untold stories, history we'll never know about, mysteries we'll never solve... And just because something hasn't been definitively proven doesn't mean it's not true, or real, it only means it's undiscovered." Riley hums, getting just a little bit lost in his own thought process. "I just don't think that this is it, ya know? Can't be. That's too damn depressing." At least, it was in his mind.

She scoffed in short laughter at his Ted Bundy comment, neither verbally agreeing or disagreeing. Yet the amusement set within her eyes was enough to assume which way she swayed. "Nope." she chuckles, "Short and tiny are completely different," was she talking out of her ass? Probably. "I may be tiny but I'm not short." She says in more of a know-it-all tone and yet she was choosing to just mindfuck him. "Why?" she challenged to his buy a pair of platforms, "Want to show me a whole new world?" She quirked her brow, making reference to Aladdin due to the way her mind instantly jumped to that song with the way he phrased his comment. Apparently feeling comfortable enough to not be mindful of the way she was coming across. Though it wasn't exactly surprising with Spiderman and alcohol being on the cards, the only thing that would have cemented it even further was if there was a puzzle thrown into the mix. Emiri enjoyed them. She found after a short moment she was becoming aware of the way her smile seemed to beam that little bit brighter, it's the excitement she could feel that felt foreign in the way she wasn't putting it on. "What?" chuckling she can't help but look at Riley, unable to pull herself away, brows knitting together briefly as she could feel her cheeks getting warmer, "Think you're making that up." That her eyes went a lighter shade of blue - didn't seem possible, right? Yet he stumped her in a way she was now thinking about that; wondering what that even meant. The talk of mermaids being something that pulled her back, "No, I mean... the way we're taught about evolution, they don't make sense." To her. "At least not with a human top half, anyway. If you can change my mind, I might be swayed one day." She chuckles, teasing lightly. "Right?" She agrees, "Maybe in a few hundred years they'll go deeper and we'll be looking on like you mother fuckers."

As he put his hand over his heart, she copied, feigning a small pout, bottom lip coming out just for the dramatics. "Someone's gotta do it." Put up with him. It was funny that her add on to that sentence, something that she only kept to herself was glad it's me. She didn't mind Riley's company and it was something that had become obvious to her since NYE. She didn't know if that was because she knew he needed it, due to shared trauma, or because she found herself being able to just be around him. Perhaps it was both? That was still a working thought. "Smaller on the outside," she nods, repeating his words because usually it was bigger on the inside. "A few times? You can totally sing the theme song, right?" The Big Bang Theory's one, that was. "The only time they'd share anything with us is when we're about a minute away from doomsday." The government. She'd always imagine she'd get an alert on her phone one minute before a nuclear war was about to spread across country and on every reflection, she'd rather not know. "You're messing with me," she chuckles, the mention of skinwalkers being something that just tickled her. "You can't believe that, you're smart." Which was something she had come to learn. "Where's the logic?" She says more to prompt him into telling her, rather than dismissing it altogether.

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Going To Disney With The Avengers Gang™ | Planning The Trip

Part One of my "Going To Disney With The Avengers Gang™" headcanon series

Includes: (The Whole Gang) Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Vision, Sam Wilson, Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, Thor Odinson, Loki Laufeyson

Word Count: 3.9k

Relationships: The Avengers x F!Reader, Ambiguous; just how we like it ;)

Going To Disney With The Avengers Gang™ Master List

→The whole idea starts when the team is lounging at the compound doing regular™ team things

→A.K.A Wanda, y/n, Pietro, and Vision are in a pile on one of the couches cuddling, Clint and Nat are across the room playing pool, Bucky is making ramen in the kitchen, Steve is trying to convince Bucky to add an egg or something for more protein, Bruce and Stephen are talking neuroscience and bickering over techniques of spinal fluid something, Thor and Loki are fighting over the remote before Loki finally rolls his eyes and picks up the book y/n had left on the coffee table, Sam is asleep on the floor, and Tony is just tired

→In the madness though he picks up on the conversation happening between the four people on the couch

→“You’ve never been to Disney World?”

→Three rounds of “no” “nope” “I’ve only had a body for a year, y/n. When would I have gone to Disney World?”

→”Okay, yeah, good point, Vis. But y’all would love it. I haven’t been since high school but I want to go again so bad. We need a vacation.”

→Tony doesn’t even stick around to hear the rest, he’s already walking away while speaking to FRIDAY, telling her start pulling up the Disney site and analyzing it, disappearing to his lab and using all of his monitors to compare the resorts and try to decide where to stay that everyone would like (and where they would all fit because there’s too many of them)

→It doesn’t take him long to realize they’re going to need large accommodations

→Bruce is the first to notice that he’s gone, sneaking into the lab and scaring the hell out of Tony

→“Whatcha’ doing?”

→“Ah shit-- Bruce! How are you so quiet?”

→And then he points to the seven open listings on the monitors and explains that the team needs a break and that he heard y/n talking about Disney World and that he wants to surprise the team-- Bruce agrees immediately (the man is always in need of relaxation)-- and that’s how the team’s geek squad ends up playing Disney Dad #1 and Disney Dad #2 and planning the most extravagant vacation in less than three hours

→They have it down to a science after the first twenty minutes-- dividing what needs to be done and tackling it individually while bouncing ideas off one another

→“Do you think they want to eat at Beauty and The Beast Castle or Ariel’s Grotto the second night?” “I’m not sure-- book them both.” “Tony we can’t--” “FRIDAY, book them both.” “You got it Mr. Stark.”

→There’s a lot of Bruce wondering if what they’re booking is too expensive and even more of Tony reminding him that he’s a literal billionaire and that he could buy the Disney company if he wanted to-- that still doesn’t stop Bruce from suggesting more frugal methods from time to time-- it only makes Tony want to spend even more money because you need to lighten up, Banner

→The next person who realizes Tony and Bruce are gone is-- surprisingly-- Sam

→Honestly it’s only because he has to pass Tony’s lab on the way back from his room and he sticks his head in to tell them that “Romanoff and Barton ordered pizza if y’all want any… holy crap is that Disney World? Are we going to Dis--”

→Tony literally grabs him by the collar and tells him to hush it, birdman before pulling him into the room and explaining his plans for the second time-- “Yes, we are going to Disney World and I want it to be a surprise.”

→Sam just nods, his eyes on the screen and his brows beginning to push down and-- “Okay but why are you booking dinner at Mickey’s Backyard Barbecue on the same day that you have fast passes for World of Color at Epcot?”

→And Tony and Bruce blink and are just like “What?”

→And Sam is already at the computer, fingers stuttering over the weird ass hoverscreens while pulling up the page which shows that the World of Color has a whole ass dining experience-- Tony and Bruce have no clue that was even a thing-- and suddenly Sam is the one telling them what to plan because, as it turns out, this man loves Disney World and has been upwards of thirteen times and knows it inside and out

→Thank gods for Sam because these two Disney Dads™ were really shooting blindly into the abyss of trip planning without ever having gone to Disney World-- he has to shift around fast passes, dining reservations, water park tickets, and even the family portrait session that Tony demanded Bruce add

→He shows them all the things they don’t even think to plan-- firework shows, dessert parties, literally all of Downtown Disney-- Tony wants to be mad but he’s too busy picking his jaw up off the floor when Sam manages to book them for an After Dark Party in Magic Kingdom

→Bruce gets so excited when Sam tells him that’s a thing that he almost gives the plan away when Natasha comes rushing to see what all the noise is (it’s Banner jumping up and down like a toddler) -- he has to rush to the doorway, make up a lie about him dropping a piece of equipment, and then walk her back to the common area and play a round of pool with her to keep her questions at bay

→It’s all fine because Sam puts the final touches on the plan and has Tony give the order for FRIDAY to book it all and then it’s ready to tell the team

→They sneak back into the common area, it’s nine pm and everyone just looks so worn out

→Stephen is literally half way to snoring, legs curled under him on the love seat, doing that thing people do when they’re falling asleep and their head slumps and then they spring back awake, repeating the process an embarrassing amount of times but nobody’s even paying attention

→Steve and Bucky are talking quietly in the corners about whether or not they should just go to sleep because it’s Thursday and there’s really no point in staying up any longer

→Clint and Thor are sharing a bag of popcorn and half watching John Wick while discussing the inaccuracies of the movie-- “If he had a bow none of this would have happened.” “Or a hammer.” “Yeah, that too.”

→Yeah, they’re exhausted, and it makes the Disney Dads™ and Sam that much more excited to share the news

→Sam’s twiddling his hands behind his back and sharing smiles with Banner who’s trying to keep his excitement at bay and Tony is rolling his eyes but smiling too and for a moment nobody notices their cheshire grins and nervous foot tapping until finally y/n lifts her head from Pietro’s chest-- who complains at the action and lifts his head too-- and lazily asks

→“Tones, what on earth are you smiling about?”

→And the man opens his mouth but before he can even get the words out Bruce and Sam are already jumping up and down again and screaming “We’re going to Disney World!”

→And the room goes dead silent for three beats-- one, two, three-- and it feels like a million seconds and Tony’s face is dropping slowly and he’s ready to be like sike and then she jumps up, literally stepping on Pietro’s stomach, hurtling the back of the couch like a damn track star and rushing the man at full force, flinging herself at him and jumping into his arms and there are tears streaming down her face and she’s screaming

→“Tony you didn’t! Oh my gods you didn’t! You’re lying oh my god no! Are you serious?”

→And he’s nodding but he still can’t get a word in edgewise because she’s still rambling-- “You heard me oh my gods! You heard me and you did it! Tony that’s insane and reckless and oh my god I love you! Are we actually going? This isn’t a trick? Please don’t let this be a trick!”

→And he just laughs and spins her around and tells her that no, this isn’t a trick I’m not the mischief god here and Loki rolls his eyes but he’s also kind of excited despite the frown on his face

→They’re all excited

→Pietro and Wanda and screaming with Sam, slapping each other and just full on freaking out like children, incoherent and happy and raring to just go already

→In turn this wakes Stephen up who hears the madness and jumps up, on edge and ready to literally fight before he realizes what’s going on and calmly sits back down, nodding his head but not speaking because if this literal grown man opens his mouth he knows he’s going to freak out too because holy shit Disney World-- even sorcerers like Disney!

→Steve and Bucky are kind of confused-- they just barely remember Snow White when it came out but Disney World? They made a-- what is it? A theme park? Regardless they’re excited, ready to break the old men lull they’ve fallen into-- Bucky hears y/n ask if Tony booked water park tickets and gets super excited

→Vision is also confused but he sees everyone getting turnt over Disney World and decides that he is also excited-- Wanda momentarily stops being hyped up to ask him if he’s waterproof in which he goes into explicit detail about how yes, he is and he’ll show her if she’d like and she has to slap her hands over his mouth and tell him to hush

→Thor and Clint also turn into children but they’re the run around the room yelling types as opposed to the stand in a circle and scream types-- the gang is apparently just like fifteen children who barely manage to get things done apparently because they’re all hyped as fuck

→Clint sprints over to Nat whose hands are already up, ready to fight the man off because she knows what’s coming, but he’s too fast and too happy and uses all his assassin training to dodge her kick, grabbing her around the waist and spinning her around until she’s giggling and slapping his back

→“Natty we’re going to fucking Disney World!”

→“I know you lug, I heard Stark too. Let me down!”

→He doesn’t-- he just shakes her harder, cheering with the rest of them

→Thor slumps down next to his brother, nudging his shoulder-- “Migardians are strange”-- and Loki nods but pulls out his phone and starts looking up what’s actually at Disney World and-- “Look, brother, our home… wait is that us?”-- and the brothers get sucked into a rabbit hole of the Norwegian pavilion and whatever the hell the Frozen ride is and why their pictures are there

→It takes thirty minutes for everyone to calm down enough for them to actually have a conversation about what on earth Tony and Bruce and Sam did-- it takes another ten minutes after that for Stephen to finally break through the chatter to ask the most important question-- “Guys, seriously. You can ask about the plans after. The main question here is when are we going.”

→And Tony glances at Bruce and shrugs and is like “Tomorrow.”

→And they all erupt again-- y/n and Wanda because they have to pack and Stephen because normal people don’t just up and go on Vacation, you’re supposed to make time and Clint and Pietro because holy shit we’re going to Disney tomorrow!-- but Tony just brushes the worry off and reminds them-- again-- that they’re superheroes and that he’s a billionaire and that they can go on vacation whenever they damn want

→Cue fifteen more minutes of freaking out and y/n tackling Tony and then tackling Bruce and then, finally, tackling Sam who scoops her up and all but tosses her in the air before thanking her profusely for putting the idea in Tony’s brain

→They spend the next few minutes fangirling together-- Sam raves about all the food he’s going to eat-- Mickey bars, corn dogs, pretzels, those huge turkey legs-- and y/n talks about how she wants to get all the autographs she can-- especially Goofy and Pluto-- and then Sam mentions the After Dark Party and, like Bruce, she freaks out

→Finally Wanda has to split them up, grabbing y/n with one hand and hauling her over to the other redhead who’s still being held hostage by the resident archer and grabbing Nat with the other-- when Clint protests she curls her fingers, warning him with a pinch of red magic, and he holds his hands up, backing away slowly but telling Nat she’d better come see him before they leave

→On the way out Steve asks where they’re going and Wanda almost threatens him too until Nat tells him they’re going to pack for tomorrow-- he then turns to Bucky and reiterates the idea to a less than enthusiastic super soldier who tries to argue that I can pack in the morning but Steve just isn’t having it-- it takes five minutes but finally Buck agrees (but only after Steve says Bucky can just throw his stuff in his bag)

→The girls spend the rest of the night giggling and packing, holding up dresses and putting them down, shoving things in each other's bags and dancing to a playlist of oldies from Wanda’s phone-- Nat is the most boring packer but after some threats to get resident archer involved she gets her act together

→Pietro comes in when he’s done and Wanda scoffs at what he has packed but he only shrugs, slumping on y/n’s bed and giving her grabby hands until she rejoins him

→“But Pietro what if I forget something?”

→“You worry too much-- can’t Stange make portals?” He has a point

→What they all pack:

→Tony: Suits and graphic t-shirts. He’s either rolling up to Disney World in a Metallica t-shirt or a full three piece suit there’s no inbetween. He’s really not concerned about packing-- he can just buy whatever he needs there. After a text from y/n though he throws in a few pairs of shorts that he didn't even know he owned and his M.I.T. hoodie. He tops it off with a few gadgets he thinks he might need-- FRIDAY’s chip and some nanotech-- and he’s good to go. Billionaires don’t need to pack.

→Steve: Clothes and toiletries. Boring, basic, forgets swim trunks until he sees Bucky put his swim trunks and nothing else into Steve’s bag. That’s how he remembers most things actually; by looking at what Bucky doesn’t put into the bag. Along the way he suggests what the super soldier might want to pack while adding a few extra of his own just in case. After thinking about it for a few minutes he adds two books-- one for each of them. He also adds some tools-- a screwdriver and some pliers-- in case Bucky’s arm starts acting up. He’s sure Stark will have something but in case he doesn't, those will hold it over.

→Bucky: Swim trunks. And, when Steve begs, he grumbles and adds a few button downs and henleys. He also sneaks in a few knives, burying them in the henleys. He watches Steve pack for him though and leaves it at that-- what’s the point of packing when the super soldier can just do it for him? He’s not stupid-- he’s tired and Steve is fussy. He’ll have what he needs and if he doesn’t then he’ll just make y/n go swimming with him. Then he won’t need anything. Easy peasy.

→Nat: She’s the most level headed packer of the bunch, spare maybe Bruce and Sam. She Packs what she’ll need-- not too much and not too little. If anything she packs too many of Clint’s hoodies (three). Part of that, though, is her knowing that he’s probably going to forget one. She packs her normal toiletries, making sure to add an extra stick of deodorant and a bottle of Wanda’s red nail polish because-- despite the fact that she spends an hour watching Wanda pack her entire room-- she just knows that the woman forgot a bottle of that stuff and that she’ll be upset if her nails look chipped in the pictures. Wanda and y/n make her pack a bikini despite the fact that she has two scars from Bucky still and they threaten to get Clint involved if she tries to refuse-- “I suggest you put that little black number in that bag right now unless you want some aggressive compliments, you hear me woman?” She didn’t have to be told twice.

→Clint: Not as much as he should. Never as much as he should. He packs boxers, a pair of swim trunks, a few regular shirts and shorts (not enough), a couple nice shirts and a pair of jeans, and his toiletries. He’s gone longer with less but-- like-- he doesn’t have to this time? Nat walks into his room as he finishes packing and takes one look at his bag before marching to his closet and adding a hat, a pair of sunglasses, a jacket, a pair of sweatpants, and socks because who the hell doesn’t pack socks when they’re going to be walking around for days, how the hell are you an accomplished assassin Clint?

→Wanda: She literally packs as much as she can-- think the essentials times three and then some, like five different dresses, two leather jackets (even though y/n reminds her that Orlando is hot), her laptop and her ipad, two pairs of headphones. She has a notebook, a sketch book, and a regular book. Six bikinis and a one-piece. Three hats, four pairs of sunglasses, enough panties to last a month, let alone a week. She packs heels, boots, sneakers, flats, and sandals. Two purses and a backpack. Wanda Maximoff is the epitome of team mom-- anything Nat and y/n forget she’ll have it. She also packs a few things that she thinks Pietro will forget-- a few nice outfits for nights out and his main toiletries. Oh-- and sunscreen! Lots and lots of sunscreen!

→Pietro: Well, let's just say that it’s a good thing Wanda thinks to pack some things for Pietro because this man barely remembers his toothbrush let alone his phone charger. He gets the basics-- the bare necessities-- like three t-shirts, a pair of shorts, some (?) boxers, and like seven pairs of shoes because with how fast this man is he’s going to need them badly. He does, however, remember to pack his bathing suit and that’s more than a few people on the team can remember. Poor baby just wants to get there already-- he can just buy whatever he forgets.

→Vision: A very strange assortment of items. He doesn’t need clothes-- he can make whatever he would like appear on his body-- but he does want to feel included so Wanda gives him one of her backpacks and he puts like kind of random items into it. He sees a phone cord and shoves it in and like a hairbrush-- all items someone will need eventually but not him (later will find out that it’s the cord to Sam’s Iphone and will hand it over and have the audacity to say you’re welcome Samuel after doing it).

→Sam: He packs at least four ball caps. Nothing besides that really matters; he just knows how fucked you are if you don’t bring a hat and he’s bringing enough for the people who forget. As much as Bucky gets on his nerves he also packs him one. Besides that he packs normally-- t-shirts, shorts, shoes, socks, boxers-- all regular amounts. He freaks out a little when he can’t find his phone charger but he’ll just buy one when he gets there. He also brings a Polaroid camera and a shit ton of film-- some of his team members have never been and he will be documenting it all.

→Bruce: He’s the most boring packer and that isn’t a bad thing-- it’s the reason he has so many doctorates-- because he’s smart and level headed. He packs the clothes he needs with one extra of everything. He packs his toiletries. He doesn’t pack his whole room and he doesn’t pack nothing at all. He’s perfectly in the middle-- a Disney Dad™! He does, however, forget his swim trunks-- oops.

→Stephen: One backpack with a t-shirt, sweatpants, and swim trunks. That’s it. Why would he pack anything else? The man can open a portal whenever he needs! He’s always one step away from his bedroom! Stephen simply flicks his wrists and can change and rejoin the group in less time than it takes the rest of them to pull shit from their bags and wait for the washroom to free up. It’s actually a genius play.

→Loki: Despite being the most outwardly unenthusiastic he packs almost the exact same way that Wanda does. He’s a nervous packer. His brother laughs but, like, he has a point. Safe is better than sorry. It’s comical that he packs like five sweaters though considering that he can snap his fingers and make the sweater appear. All his clothes are either green or black. He packs at least one all black suit. Thor has to force him to add a red Hawaiian shirt and he scoffs at it and shoves it to the bottom. Definitely packs three pairs of swim trunks because he doesn’t like putting them one while they’re still wet. He doesn’t even know if he’s going to go swimming but he’s still doing it anyway. He also packs the scrunchie y/n gave him to keep his hair out of the way and when Thor tries to say shit about it he pulls a dagger from thin air and just chucks it. After dodging it Thor asks why don’t you just make your clothes appear the same way?

→Thor: Enough but, like, definitely not enough. The normal things but like less. He figures he’s going to be spending most of his time in his bathing suit anyway. Loki tries to remind him that he can’t go shirtless in the parks (he looked it up already) but he doesn't listen. It really is a good thing his brother can make things appear from thin air. He’s the type of guy to be content in a pair of flip flops and an open button down. He does, however, bring one of those dad-esque fanny packs and somehow he makes it look hot.

→Y/n: Literally packs the same as Wanda, if just a tad less. So many clothes that it’s insane. She, however, has the added bonus of her old Mickey ears-- a pink sequined pair that are a little worse from wear but still pretty. She packs a bucket hat to pin collectable pins to. She makes sure to leave extra room in her suitcase for souvenirs. She’s had her eye on the luxury bath salts from the Grand Floridian ever since the Disney Instagram posted them a few months ago and now that she’s going she won’t be leaving without them. She also packs the strapless dress she’s been meaning to wear for months now-- she doesn’t know who’s going to be there to admire it but she’s sure there’s at least one person who will. Besides, Nat’s been telling her to wear it for ages.

[insanityclause]

SPOILER ALERT: This article contains details of the first five episodes of Disney+’s Loki, & maybe the finale. Maybe.

EXCLUSIVE: “I have learned, at this point, having said goodbye to the character more than twice, two and a half times maybe, to make no assumptions,” says Loki’s Tom Hiddleston as the hours tick away to the finale of the Disney+ series drops early on Wednesday morning. “We’ll see where the ride goes now,” the Marvel alum adds.

As always with almost any project from the Kevin Feige run studio, that ride could continue, at least in some form or another. Certainly, the June 9 ‘Glorious Purpose’ premiere of the Michael Waldron penned and Kate Herron directed Loki proved to be the Disney+ and the MCU’s biggest small screen success so far. Also with any Marvel project, past Emmy winner Hiddleston was elusive on what could be coming next, be it in the Loki finale, another season or another appearance in the movies as the MCU shifts into its next phrase.

One thing is clear, after a decade playing the God of Mischief, Hiddleston still has a lot of Loki on the brain, in the best way.Leading towards the finale, I chatted with a UK-based Hiddleston about returning to play Loki and the search for who or what controls the seemingly all knowing, all powerful Time Variance Authority. The Night Manager star also spoke about filming during the coronavirus pandemic, working with Owen Wilson, Gugu Mbatha-Raw, Wunmi Mosaku, Richard E. Grant, and Sophia Di Martino, who portrays variant and soulmate Sylvie, and his upcoming AppleTV+ series The Essex Serpent with Claire Danes.

DEADLINE: There’s a great line in this season’s penultimate episode where your Loki and Sylvie are stunned at watch Richard E. Grant’s Classic Loki recreate Asgard to distract Alioth and you say “I think we’re stronger than we realize.” There seems to be a great resonance in the line that there’s a whole lot of Loki coming in the finale and probably more …

HIDDLESTON: I suppose it resonates with the theme that we all wanted to highlight about purpose and about meaning. Loki’s someone who’s probably been deluded by the idea that he’s burdened with glorious purpose, and that perhaps that purpose has been revealed to be fraudulent or meaningless, and maybe his self-image or the role that he has condemned himself to play is redundant.

His experiences through this story have shown him that there are actually more opportunities available to him, and you know, it speaks to this idea, like, can we change? Can we evolve, and in that evolution, is there room to grow? You know, so, I think the stronger than we realize I think is Loki finally understanding that, really, by caring for other people, that maybe there’s power in that, and I found that very touching, and the whole thing is an extraordinary dream.

DEADLINE: Speaking of an extraordinary dream, you have been playing Loki for a decade now, since the first Thor movie, We know you are going to do some voice work in the animated What If…? series, but how has it been having this series directly centering on him, in all his variants, so to speak?

HIDDLESTON: You know Dominic, I have enjoyed it so much, because I felt it was a gift and a privilege to be invited to come and sit at the table and think about what the show might be. Also, I suppose so many of the things that I’ve discovered about Loki as a character in the comics and a character in the Norse myths, in the canon, aspects that I’ve always thought were interesting, and understandably, there hasn’t been time or space in the movies to explore them.

DEADLINE: In terms of who he is?

HIDDLESTON: Those aspects of him have been externalized and embedded into this new story about identity itself and about integrating the disparate fragment of the many selves that he is or perhaps the many selves that we are. You know, we contain multitudes. Loki certainly contains multitudes. We have met many of those multitudes, including Alligator Loki (laughs).

DEADLINE: Sounds like you’re not done with those multitudes yet. From your POV, from conversations with Kevin (Feige) is there more that you see for the character as the MCU heads into its next stages?

HIDDLESTON: Well, I certainly don’t have Kevin’s brain or encyclopedic knowledge or capacity for invention. I’ve been on the ride for a while, and it’s been the most extraordinary journey, and to have lived through different iterations, different phases of the MCU, and I’m so grateful that I’m still here, and it’s been amazing to watch. I feel that the MCU is even more expansive, is even braver, more inclusive than it’s ever been.

DEADLINE: How so?

HIDDLESTON: I think the stories are getting really exciting. Not that they weren’t before, but I think they understand that the investment of the audience is very deep, and they don’t take it for granted for a second. So, yeah, I suppose the perspective I have on how Loki might affect the ongoing course of the MCU is this idea of the multiverse. People have already understood it when Miss Minutes is introducing Loki to the TVA. She talks about the multiverse and the war and that the sacred timeline, which is reality as we know it.

DEADLINE: It opens up the aperture certainly for new stories from all opportunities, doesn’t it?

HIDDLESTON: It raises questions of, well, maybe there are other parallel or alternate universes. Maybe there are other realities, and the possibilities there are endless. I feel that at the end of episode five, Loki and Sylvie are close to discovering the answers to the questions that they have of who is behind the TVA and that, somehow, this will provoke even more curiosity about…

DEADLINE: …Because in the Marvel Universe, answering one set of questions always leads to another set of questions, in many ways.

HIDDLESTON: Right. Yeah. Yeah, and I know that there are lots of, you know, interesting titles of movies that’ve been announced, which kind of hint at where it might be going.

DEADLINE: One of those that hasn’t been officially announced, but is rumored is a Season 2 for Loki, in gear under the temporary title of Architect on call sheets and the like …

HIDDLESTON: Well, yes, maybe, as I say, all the kind of multiple alternate realities are …it’s taken me 10 years to get a handle on this sort of mono timeline. The idea that this might be a multiverse is actually beyond my knowledge of physics.

DEADLINE: Well, I doubt that, but let me ask, and no spoilers for the finale or further, but if Kevin, Marvel, Disney asked you to do more Loki, are you game?

HIDDLESTON: (laughs) I have learned, at this point, having said goodbye to the character more than twice, two and a half times maybe, to make no assumptions. So, I’m also aware that I’m only playing him because of the audience, really. So, it’s not up to me. But I do love playing him, and every time, I seem to find new, interesting things about him. So, yeah, I’m a temporary passenger on Loki’s journey, but we’ll see. We’ll see where the ride goes now.

DEADLINE: On the ride, as the finale looms, there’s a ton of fan speculation out there and so much that people have hooked on to from the show. So, as the man at the center of it, what was your favorite part of Loki the series?

HIDDLESTON: That there was meaning in the making of it.That we crossed the finish line in the middle of a global pandemic and could create something, and more than ever, I felt really grateful for being able to do this job. I think in this there are some of those questions that we were all asking ourselves in the last 18 months in the show, you know, what do our lives mean?📷I love taking Loki in new directions. I love the contributions of my fellow actors, of Owen Wilson and Sophia Di Martino and Richard E. Grant and Gugu Mbatha-Raw, and Wunmi Masaku, they all brought so much to the table, and I’ll always remember that. You know, I’ll always remember just being in Atlanta with all of them and making our bonkers show. Yeah.

DEADLINE: Making your bonkers show in Atlanta as the world, as America was still in the heat of the pandemic. What was that like, because you were in production and then everything stopped and then you came back, right?

HIDDLESTON: I mean, people have used this word a lot, but it really was unprecedented. I think we did six weeks of filming before the hiatus, and then the production was suspended for four or five months, and we came back. At first, it was unfamiliar because we had to make adjustments, but the thing I remember most of all, quite honestly, is the diligence and resilience and spirit of our cast and crew.

DEADLINE: Really?

HIDDLESTON: Yes, and it remains extremely special for me, this project, for that reason.For me, it just demonstrated the character of these amazing people. It took a huge amount of planning and care and looking after each other. By that, I mean, being in the bubble. So, for many of us, the only other human beings we saw, really, were each other. So, we came to work, and we became a team, and the circumstances fostered this extraordinary team spirit, and so the memory of making it is really my incredible and deep respect and affection for my fellow filmmakers. People like Trish Stanard, our line producer. Richard Graves, our first AD. Kristina Peterson, our second AD. Autumn Durald, DP. Kevin Wright, our supervising producer, and so many others making sure everyone could stay safe and look after each other.It’s really…I find it…it’s very moving, and it’s remarkable, and I just want to salute them all because I couldn’t have done any of it without them.

DEADLINE: In that vein, you have just come off filming The Essex Serpent with Claire Danes for AppleTV+. Very different from Loki, and yet also a tale of what is real and who we are. Is that what attracted you to it on some level?

HIDDLESTON: I read it and immediately connected to it. Read the screenplay, the adaptation. It’s based on a novel by Sarah Perry, which was published in 2016 and is set at the end of the 19th century. It’s an extraordinary story about uncertainty and about our deepest fears and how sometimes our fears can distort our imaginings and how our minds can lie to us. About how we have to guard against that, and Perry sets it in this extraordinary time with a beautiful leading character of Cora Seaborne, played by Claire. Anna Symon adopted it.

There’s this community on the east coast of England who believe that an ancient beast has been awakened by an earthquake and that it’s dislodged all these fossils. But perhaps, it has also dislodged this ancient underwater monster, which has been used to explain certain unusual phenomena. This was in the era when Darwin had just been published a few decades before and people are starting to think, this Charles Darwin, he’s onto something. Still, fear spreads very quickly, and it’s a very fascinating time where science and faith are in conflict.

DEADLINE: When you describe it like that it sounds very Loki indeed.

HIDDLESTON: Maybe the themes are very Loki. Maybe that’s where they join up, but I’m playing a 19th century vicar who is trying to contain his community. You feel very destabilized by all these rumors. So, yeah, to go from Loki to a vicar was definitely new, a new territory.

DEADLINE: Literally and figuratively?

HIDDLESTON: Well, it’s my first significant time in Essex, where we filmed, which I feel embarrassed about. I’ve been to Essex before, but I’ve never been to the very, very eastern, most eastern coast of Essex. It’s the Blackwater Estuary, which then feeds into the River Thames, and it’s a very ancient part of England. It’s so marshy, it’s where in Great Expectations, that’s where Pip meets Magwitch for the first time. It’s all foggy and muddy and marshy and quite atmospheric and a perfect place to set a story about of uncertainty and fear and gothic romance. Clio Barnard directed it, and working with her has been amazing.

DEADLINE: You know, it occurs to me that of all the main Marvel characters, Loki has been such a constant, yet so ethereal in so many ways too. Is it jarring for you to jump back into the role with all the uncertainty it brings?

HIDDLESTON: You know, I’ve always seen it as sort of an extraordinary and surprising constant in my life for a decade. But, I don’t take it for granted because I don’t often…you know, it may end. It has actually ended, and those endings have been conclusive. I really thought a couple of years ago, after I made Avengers: Infinity War, you know, we all know what happens in that scene, and I thought, that’s it.I thought it’s over, and I was really proud to have been part of it. I was grateful for my time, but I thought that, my work would go off in a different direction. So, the idea that I got to come back and have another go was a complete delight, it truly was.

[erin-bo-berin]

Enemies Closer

MASTERLIST

Happy smutty Spencer Saturday! This fic has been hidden in the depths of my brain for way too long. I knew I wanted to do an enemies to lover fic for a while but didn’t have much more for it until recently. The title comes from the famous saying “keep your friends close and your enemies closer”.

I want to say a big thank you to all of my followers who sent in quips, jabs and bantery remarks. I tried to use them all because they were all so wonderful. Thank you to @dreatine @andiebeaword @sammy-jo1977 @redbullchick and the numerous anons who contributed. Also a big thank you to @multifandommandy for coming up with the idea of the reader interviewing the little girl, it really helped move the story along and add to it. I appreciate all your ideas and help 💕

Okay, enjoy the 10k words of sassy, smutty Spencer Reid. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: M (smut)

Word Count: 10,088

Spencer was walking back to his desk when he heard JJ’s voice.

“Really? When?”

There was a pause on her end of the phone conversation. She looked up and saw Spencer, immediately waving him over.

Spencer’s interest was piqued. He wondered what was going on, especially since there was a huge grin on her face. He approached her desk just as JJ spoke again.

“That sounds great, mom. I can’t wait.”

Spencer smiled. JJ and her mom were extremely close and he always looked forward to her visits—she made the best triple chocolate chip cookies he’d ever tasted. He opened his mouth to tell her to say hi from him, when she practically read his mind.

“By the way Spencer says hi.” 

JJ shot him a wink, grinning at the fact that she knew him well enough to know exactly what he was about to say. He chuckled to himself. They definitely were close enough to know what one another was thinking.

“Sounds good. See you then. Bye.”

JJ hung up her phone, turning in her chair to face him fully.

“Is your mom coming to visit?”

“She is,” JJ smiled, “And she’s bringing your favorite triple chocolate chip cookies.”

“Bless that woman,” he chuckled.

“There’s also something else,” JJ trailed off nervously, a flicker of worry in her blue eyes.

“What?”

“Y/N’s visiting too...and she’s kinda stuck with me, or well us for the next week. So if we get a case, she’s coming with us.”

Spencer groaned loudly.

“Why?”

“Mom has a business seminar in downtown D.C. and you know Will took the boys to Disney World this week. I’m not going to make her sit at home alone for a week.”

“Why? It would be for the greater good of humanity. I’ll even be willing to chip in for a hotel room for her,” Spencer said, hoping JJ would actually take him up on the offer, “Particularly one across the country.” 

“Spencer,” JJ eyed him warily, “Emily already said it was okay. She knows to stay out of the way while we work.”

“Yet she’s always in my way.”

“Spence, she’s not that bad. Why do you hate her so much?” she asked.

“Last time she visited she “accidentally” spilled an entire pot of coffee on my favorite work shirt!” Spencer protested.

“Just like you “accidentally” locked her in an interrogation room?” JJ raised a brow.

Yeah, that hadn’t been his finest moment. But she had driven him crazy that day.

“She wandered in there on her own. I was just helping the situation along,” he shrugged innocently.

“You’re lucky she didn’t burn the building down,” JJ mumbled.

“Yeah, well, she pushed me to my limit that day. Sorry.”

“What is it with you two? You fight worse than her and I ever did.”

“She’s annoying, rude and drives me crazy. I honestly can’t believe she’s your sister, let alone related to you. JJ, you know I love you, but I just can’t stand her. We’re just two completely different people that probably will never get along.”

“Alright, alright,” JJ held her hands up in defeat, “At least try to be on your best behavior?”

“No promises,” he grumbled.

“Hey, look at it this way. At least you get cookies,” she stood, patting his arm before walking away.

He was positive even cookies wouldn’t make up for this.

•

“Y/N while you’re here, can you please try to be nice to your sister’s coworkers?”

You suppressed a groan.

You were currently in the elevator with your mother at the FBI in Quantico, riding up the numerous floors to the Behavioral Analysis Unit, where your sister JJ worked. In your arms were a stack of containers, filled with sweets your mom had made for the team.

There were her famous triple chocolate chip cookies made with milk, dark and white chocolate chips, some apple cobbler, cupcakes and even a strawberry pie. JJ’s team were suckers for Sandy Jareau’s delicacies.

“Mom, I love the team. They’re like extended family, you know that.”

“You know what I mean.”

Your mom gave you a look that you swore only mothers could perfect. It was partly calling out your bullshit and part disciplinary all at the same time. It was amazing, really, 29 years old and you were still getting the “you better not act out” look from her. What were you, eight?

“I mean that lovely Dr. Reid. You’re always so mean to him.”

“He starts it.”

Okay, maybe you were eight.

“Y/N.”

The warning tone in her voice was all you needed to keep your mouth shut.

“All I’m saying is I don’t want another call from JJ saying you’ve gotten locked in an interrogation room and almost got arrested for assaulting a FBI agent.”

“Okay that was one time!” you said, exasperated, “Granted, it wasn’t my finest hour. But still. It’s not like I’m that bad all the time.”

“Really?” your mom looked at you, all knowingly, “What about that one time at JJ’s housewarming party?”

“I swear I didn’t glue his shoes to the floor!”

In your defense, that had been Derek Morgan, back when he was still working in the FBI, prior to his resignation. Of course though, no one believed that he had done it, apparently including your mother.

“Whether you did it or not, that’s not the point. You would’ve done it given the opportunity.”

You couldn’t deny that. 

“Just don’t stress JJ out any more than she is. She said when the two of you are fighting it’s like trying to corral two feisty chihuahuas.”

You sighed, defeated.

“I’ll try to be on my best behavior mom.”

“Thank you. That’s all I ask.”

The elevator dinged, alerting you that you’d arrived at your designated floor and the metal doors slid open to reveal your sister and of course, Spencer.

Spencer Reid, the biggest nemesis of your entire life.

He was absolutely infuriating. 

Tall, imposing, three PhDs, IQ of 187, Doctor Spencer Reid. That’s right, he wasn’t just Agent Reid, he was Dr. Reid. It was eye roll inducing.

He was a know-it-all, quite literally. If anyone said something even the slightest bit wrong, he didn’t hesitate to correct them. A person could breathe wrong and he’d probably correct that.

He constantly spewed facts. That was annoying enough in itself. You had no idea how JJ put up with it. But then again she was best friends with the guy. That blew your mind enough in itself.

If he wasn’t so annoying, he might actually be attractive. With a stature of over six feet, he was lean but without being a beanpole. His light brown curls always looked like he’d just rolled out of bed and/or never taken a brush to his hair. His eyes were definitely interesting though. You could never tell if they were brown, green or maybe even hazel.

Not that you’d been paying that close of attention. Nor did you care.

He had significantly more facial hair than the last time you’d seen him. Not a bad look for him, you had to give him that.

JJ once told you that a college class he’d taught for two weeks was filled with nothing but young girls auditing his course. She said it had confused Spencer. It confused you too cause you didn’t see how he was that attractive. He was kinda cute, if you liked the whole snobby, genius who doesn’t brush his hair, smartass type.

Oddly enough, you’d known him for half your life, yet couldn’t recall how or when you started hating him. It just seems like it had been that way all along, when in fact, it hadn’t.

“Mom! Y/N!” JJ exclaimed, grinning wide.

You felt a burst of happiness in your chest. You’d missed your sister. Despite the 11 year age difference, you guys were close growing up.

You were still a baby when your older sister Rosalyn had committed suicide, so you didn’t remember much about her, sadly. It was really hard on JJ as she was the one to find her. But as she’d told you much later, you’d helped her grieve. Reliving memories and keeping Rosalyn’s memory alive in sharing stories with you helped her heal after such a traumatic situation. It was often that you’d wished you’d had the chance to know your oldest sister, but with her death came an impenetrable close bond between you and JJ.

JJ immediately wrapped her arms around your mother, hugging her tight. You gave a nod of your head, your arms too full to be able to hug her at the moment.

“I’ll just go put these in the briefing room,” you said.

You turned, aiming to head through the glass doors of the BAU’s entrance, but instead ran right into Spencer.

“Here, I got it,” he took several of the boxes out of your arms so you could see properly again, “If only to save you from injuring anyone else.”

“My knight in shining armor,” you muttered sarcastically.

“Watch where you’re going next time.”

“You watch where you’re going. Besides, I didn’t need your help,” you retorted.

“Obviously, you did,” Spencer mumbled, following you through the doors.

You hadn’t even made it all the way through the entrance when you heard your mom and JJ sigh in unison. You heard JJ’s words loud and clear, as well.

“They’re already bickering less than five minutes in. Must be a new record.”

It kinda was. Usually, the two of you managed to avoid each other until the inevitable crossing of paths occurred. Today, though, you both had started in, right off the bat.

You placed the numerous arrays of desserts on the round table, knowing by tomorrow they’d pretty much all be gone.

“You’re welcome for the help,” Spencer snarked, setting down the few containers he’d carried.

You couldn’t help it, you rolled your eyes.

“I didn’t ask for it. So there’s no reason to thank you.”

“It’s the polite thing to do. Oh, wait. I forgot you don’t know how to be polite. My bad.”

You glared at him, the hatred stirring in your gut.

“I wish I could say it’s been a pleasure to see you again, Y/N, but it hasn’t,” Spencer said.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go greet your mother who actually deserves and appreciates my kindness.”

“Kindness, my ass,” you muttered as he walked away.

He turned, almost to the door.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” you smiled in a fake, sweet matter.

He scoffed, turning and walking away.

Only when his back was turned did your fake demeanor drop and you stuck your tongue out at him.

This man would be the death of you yet.

•

“Penelope just got us a case. Luckily, it’s right here in our backyard so you can just sit in while we work. But please try to control your mouth.”

“JJ, I’m almost 30 years old,” you replied.

“Yes, but you still have a sharp tongue.”

“I promise not to make a scene, cause any trouble or be in the way. I know you have to work Jayj.”

After a round of greetings and hugs from the team and promises to stay longer when she returned from her business seminar, your mom had dashed off, leaving you at the BAU.

You looked up to see Emily Prentiss, JJ’s friend and boss motioning for her to join them in the briefing room.

“The team has to be debriefed about this case. Are you going to be okay here?”

You spun back and forth in her desk chair, motioning to the book you’d brought to read.

“I’ll be fine. Go work,” you shooed her.

JJ bounded off and up the stairs to the meeting and you picked up your book, ready to be entranced by the wonderful fantasy world of your book, far away from your reality.

-

“Why do people read that garbage? It does nothing but fills a person’s head with nonsense. It’s stupid and a waste of time. Although, now that I think of it, that’s probably a perfect fit for you.”

You peered up over the edge of your book.

You’d just gotten to a good part in your book. Your heroine was just getting ready to destroy the enemy and his lair, saving her love interest from the clutches of evil. It was a shame you couldn’t throw Spencer in the cage that your heroine was saving her lover from. Now that would make the book perfect.

“I’m reading. If you don’t mind.”

“Well it offends me. At least read something good. War and Peace is a good recommendation. Good story. I read it at breakfast last weekend,” Spencer said.

You turned up your nose. Leave it to Spencer to brag about his ability to read 20,000 words a minute and offer atrocious book recommendations in the same sentence. That in itself was offensive enough to you.

“This is why you don’t get dates, isn’t it?” you snipped.

He ignored the quip. 

“I’m supposed to ask you for help with the case.”

Now this was interesting. You raised an eyebrow.

“What makes you think I want to help you?”

“You do realize the entire world doesn’t revolve around you, right?” Spencer’s eyes narrowed, “There’s kids that are going missing.”

That sobered you quickly. You dropped any anger you had at him, for the moment, realizing how serious the matter was.

“How? What’s happening?”

“Four kids have gone missing. We can’t figure out how or why. They haven’t shown up yet, so we’re hopeful that they’re still alive,” Spencer said, lips narrowed into a thin line.

“What do you need my help for then?”

“Because to understand what happened to them, we need to profile these kids.”

•

“Okay so we know from his parents, six year old Erik Yates was incredibly shy,” JJ said, looking at the whiteboard where the pictures of the four missing children were hung.

“He wouldn’t have talked to his own school teacher, let alone a stranger,” David Rossi said.

“But his best friend, Carlos Hoffman also went missing with him. They were having a sleepover, so he’d been at Erik’s house,” Emily added.

“And Carlos was the more outgoing of the two, wasn’t he?” you asked.

“Yup,” Tara said, flipping through her notes, “According to the parents, wherever Carlos went Erik was always close behind. So if they encountered a stranger, if Carlos was willing to go, Erik would likely follow.”

“I don’t know about that,” you piped in, “I’ve seen friendships like that in my class. Even if the kid is quiet, if they know something is wrong, they either say something to their friend or they just don’t do it period. I find it hard to believe that Erik would go along with someone he wasn’t comfortable with.”

“Says the one that’s not a profiler,” Spencer mumbled from where he was standing, examining the evidence board.

JJ shot him a look, before returning to the conversation. You pretended not to hear that one and for once, bit your tongue. You wouldn’t accomplish anything by arguing with Spencer at the moment.

“So let’s go back to the top,” Matt said, “Mrs. Yates went to the door and there was someone there either selling something or had an excuse made up for the unsub to guilt trip money out of her. She leaves to get her purse. The kids are in the living room playing. Then suddenly, by the time she gets back, all three are gone.”

“That’s how her story goes,” Luke said, looking through interview notes.

“What about the other children?” you asked, “How were they taken?”

“One was kidnapped at the park, the other at the grocery store,” Spencer answered.

“What if it’s someone familiar with their routines?” you asked.

You weren’t anywhere close to being a profiler, but you knew enough from JJ to sort of get by in this conversation.

“A lot of my kids and their families have strict routines. Usually because it benefits the child and/or they have other children that they keep on a schedule too. Wouldn’t that mean that it’s someone that they know?”

“It could,” Emily said, “But unfortunately that doesn’t narrow down much because the unsub could also just be stalking these families before the kidnapping. The unsub could potentially be a complete stranger to them.”

“Have you asked the parents of the children if they could think of anyone who could do this? Is there anyone that might overlap with these families?” you inquired.

JJ had opened her mouth to answer you, but of course, Spencer had to add his two cents. 

“Are you an idiot? Of course, we did,” Spencer snapped, “That’s always the first thing we do.”

You bristled. Even when working together, he couldn’t be civil. He had the nerve to try and insult you and make you feel stupid, even though all you were trying to do was help.

“I’m not an idiot, Spencer,” you grit out.

“Oh really? You sure do act like one sometimes,” he retorted, writing something on the board.

Your defenses snapped back into place and you were ready to shoot back a remark when JJ interrupted you.

“Hey, hey, you guys. Quit it before I have to send you both into separate corners for timeout. We’re all on the same team here, trying to accomplish the same thing. Let’s just focus.”

“Matt, Dave, JJ, I want you to go and reinterview the parents. Y/N has a point. We need to make absolutely sure there’s no one in these families lives that connect with one another,” Emily ordered.

“Luke, Tara; both of you go to the schools. See if there’s been any strangers lurking around. We can’t rule out a sexual predator just yet, but it would help vastly if we could.”

“Penelope, you and I are going to work on a deep dive of these families.”

Garcia’s face scrunched at Emily’s order; she hated diving into people’s personal lives, but unfortunately it sometimes came with the job.

“We’re going to make sure that these parents aren’t holding back any secrets that could possibly help us.”

Emily turned towards you and Spencer next.

“Spence, I want you to start on a geo profile, see if we can figure out the vicinity of the unsub’s hunting grounds. Maybe we might even be able to find where he’s holding them.”

“On it.”

Spencer was already grabbing a map, spreading it across the round table.

“Y/N, I want you to help him.”

Spencer’s head snapped up.

“Hell no. Emily please-”

She held up her hand.

“I don’t want to hear it. That’s an order. If you disobey, I will put you behind a desk for a month.”

He relented, but you could tell he wasn’t happy about it. Not like you were pleased at all by it either.

“Try not to burn the room down while you’re working,” she instructed, walking out to meet Garcia in her lair.

Once she left, Spencer spun towards you.

“Let’s get one thing clear. You’re not to bother me while I work. You stay out of my way. I don’t need your help, nor do I want it. I can do my work just fine without you. I’ve been doing it for 15 years,” he snapped.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Spencer. Even I can tell when your IQ gets slashed to 60.”

“That’s the best you got, Y/N? I didn’t realize they let bimbos into the FBI. Oh wait...that’s right. I’m the one that’s the actual agent here. What is it you do again?”

“I’m a kindergarten teacher. You know that, you dumbass or else I wouldn’t be here helping you.”

“Oh, guess there’s no sleeping to the top in that field. Although, I wouldn’t put it past you.”

Your fists clenched. Spencer made you mad like no other could. Not even JJ could ever make you this mad.

“Just sit down and shut up while the adults work, okay?” he sneered at you.

“I’m not a child!”

You crossed your arms defensively. You weren’t about to let him get in all the insults. Ignoring him never worked, he was too obnoxious. So you just played it like he did, by slinging insults like dodgeballs at him.

“Well if you’re going to act like a child, I’m going to treat you like a child!” he threw back.

His eyes were blazing, his cheeks gone pink from his anger. 

“Funny because you act more immature than my kindergartners.”

“WILL YOU TWO CAN IT AND GET TO WORK?!”

You both jumped at the sound of Garcia yelling from the bullpen. She made the motion that she’d be keeping her eyes on you two. You threw one more scowl Spencer’s way before flopping down on the sofa on the other side of the room.

This week was going to last an eternity.

•

Two days passed with no luck on finding an unsub, but they’d managed to put a profile together based on what little they did know.

The entire team was worried and on edge. Of course, that made the situation between you and Spencer even more volatile.

“Are you sure you’re an actual qualified agent? All you do is stand in front of a room full of police or your team and say smart things and gesture with your hands,” you mimicked Spencer, doing exactly what he was just doing earlier while they gave the profile.

“I do not look like that! You look like a baby dinosaur who doesn’t know how to walk,” he jeered.

“Yes, you do. All I’m saying is these civil service exams must be really easy to pass nowadays, huh?” you smirked.

“You know I’d ask if you could really be any more infuriating, but I’m afraid you’d take that as a challenge,” Spencer huffed, “Besides I’m supposed to be “nice” to you, since you’ve been so helpful.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” you grinned mischievously, “I’ve been what?”

“I’m just quoting what Emily said. In my opinion you’ve been more like a pain in my ass,” he mumbled, looking through one of the case files.

“Oh sure because without me, would you’ve figured out that the unsub is a woman?”

“Probably. Don’t pat yourself on the back, sweetheart. You’re no match for us real profilers, Y/N.”

“I may not be, but you’ve met your match with me, pretty boy,” the nickname falling from your lips with deep sarcasm, “You can’t help but fight with me. For some reason I get under your skin and frankly, I enjoy it. It’s nice to know you can actually squirm, Spencer Reid.”

His lips pursed and he was about to speak when the phone rang. He answered it, putting it on speaker. Garcia’s excited voice came through it.

“Reid, gather the team. You won’t believe what I’ve found.”

•

“So it turns out, one of our families did have a secret. Although, it was something we weren’t even looking for,” Penelope said.

“What’s that Garcia?” Tara asked.

“The family of the first missing child: Daisy Rowe, had a nanny once. Her name is Kali Dye.”

Garcia hit the remote button to pull up the woman’s picture on the big screen at the front of the room.

“What does she have to do with our case?” Luke asked.

She stared at him, exasperated.

“If I could finish what I was saying, you’d know,” Penelope griped.

“Okay, okay,” Luke chuckled, “Carry on.”

You lived for Luke and Penelope’s playful banter. It was like the complete opposite of you and Spencer. They liked each other at the end of the day—not to mention everyone knew deep down they were definitely attracted to one another. Their banter was flirty. Yours and Spencer’s was anything but.

“As I was saying,” Penelope continued, “Kali was the nanny to the Rowe family back in 2016 when Daisy was only two years old. There was an incident where apparently she turned her back on little Daisy playing in the backyard. Daisy got too near the pool and almost drowned. She was in the hospital for a few days afterwards. The parents were obviously furious. I’m guessing Mrs. Rowe told all her friends about it because according to my research, Kali’s nannying career was basically ruined.”

“So you think this is an act of revenge? Did she nanny for any of the other kids she kidnapped?” Emily asked.

“No, that’s where it gets weird. She seems to have no connection to these other children,” Garcia said.

“Well we know who our unsub most likely is,” JJ said, “But how are we going to find out where she and the kids are?”

“I checked for that. There’s no significant places that she would take them, her old family house isn’t even in the state and besides it’s been sold years ago,” Penelope answered.

Emily’s phone rang as the team continued to throw around ideas of where to find Kali. 

“Prentiss.”

You watched Emily’s face quickly change expressions, from neutral to shock, to worry, back to businesslike.

“Okay, bring her to Quantico. We’ll need to interview her.”

Emily hung up, turning to the team.

“The second child kidnapped, Eden Jenson just showed up at a police station in D.C. She managed to get away and ran for help. We need to interview her, but she hasn’t spoken yet. The chief of the police station is having one of his detectives drive here so we can interview her,” Emily filled the rest of the team in.

“I’ll talk to her. I’m pretty good at getting kids to talk,” Spencer said.

“Actually, I think we should let Y/N do it,” JJ said, looking at Emily.

“What?! She has no experience interviewing a witness, much less a victim!” Spencer exclaimed.

“I worked in art therapy when I was getting my degree as a teacher. I still use some in my class, plus I’m a teacher,” you said defiantly, “I know how to talk to kids.”

“I agree with JJ,” Emily said, “But Spencer, sit in with her just in case you need to intervene.”

You were sure he was going to do plenty of that.

•

An hour later, you and Spencer were sitting in front of a little, terrified Eden. Her—what you assumed were once neat—blonde pigtails were in all types of disarray. Pieces stood up everywhere while other strands came loose, hanging around her face. She was clutching her bunny stuffie, which you figured had been with her when she was kidnapped.

She had refused to talk to anyone, shrinking away frightfully at any imposing adults. You had to restrain yourself from literally pushing Spencer out the door when she shrunk even more into herself when she saw Spencer’s tall frame.

She’d been previously asked if she was hungry or thirsty in which she barely nodded. Now, she sat a bit less rigidly as she ate her Goldfish crackers and sipped on her juice box.

“Eden, my name is Y/N and this is my…friend, Spencer.”

You had to admit, you had a rough time getting that one out. 

“We just want to talk to you, okay?” you said.

The little girl just stared back at you, wide eyed.

“Do you like to color?” you asked.

Still no response.

You pulled out some paper and a pack of crayons from a bin next to the desk. You pushed them across towards her.

“Could you draw something for us?”

It took a moment of Eden staring at the items before she opened the box and picked up a crayon.

“Do you mind if we ask you some questions while you color?”

You didn’t expect an answer, so you weren’t surprised when none came.

“Are you six years old? Six is a fun age. Are you in kindergarten or first grade?”

Eden looked up at you, from underneath her lashes, just briefly, before returning to drawing.

“I’m a kindergarten teacher myself. I’m used to seeing kids your age all the time. It’s spring break though and I miss my kids terribly. Do you miss going to school?”

Spencer shifted in his seat. You knew time was a delicate thing right now, but you were trying to get her to trust you.

“Eden?” 

She looked up again. If she was surprised to hear Spencer speak for the first time, she didn’t show it.

“Could you describe the place you were at?”

Fear flashed in her eyes and she dropped her crayon, hugging tightly to her bunny.

You glared at Spencer.

“Just keep drawing, Eden. Okay? We’ll be right back,” you said, standing up, your hand a death grip on his arm.

Once the two of you had stepped out of the room and the door was closed behind you, you whirled on him.

“How can you be so stupid? I thought you were supposed to be a genius!”

“Y/N, you know we’re running on limited time to find those kids. We don’t know if Kali will hurt them or not!”

“I realize that. I’m trying to make her comfortable enough to talk about it.”

“Avoiding it doesn’t seem to be helping either,” he grimaced, hands on his hips.

“You saw what happened when you brought it up! She was terrified!”

“When dealing with a traumatized child you should tell them information about the situation they were in. It’s best they learn it from a trusted adult. Besides, it’s most likely they want to talk about it, but just don’t know how to bring it up.”

“And how would you know all of this, doctor?”

“Because contrary to your beliefs about me, I actually know how to do my job and how to do it well. I’ve dealt with things like this many times before. 60% of adults report being traumatized in childhood. 26% of children in the United States alone will witness or experience a traumatic event before the age of four.”

You blinked, unable to process so much information at once.

“Are you even human?” 

“Are you?” Spencer shot back, eyes narrowed.

“You know, with all things considered, I’d thought you’d gotten the idea that I really hate you.” you sneered.

“Really? And here I thought that was your version of flirting,” he retaliated, sarcastically.

“Moron,” you muttered under your breath.

“Now, if you’re through calling me names, I’ve got work to do,” he said, reaching behind you for the doorknob.

“Wait,” you grabbed his arm, “Just let me try again first? Please? If I get stuck or need you, I’ll let you know.”

It was some of the most civil words you’d said to him in a long time. But you didn’t want to give up on this little girl. You wanted to help her and prove to Spencer and yourself if you were being honest, that you could do it.

He must’ve noticed your serious tone and pleading eyes because he relented. He nodded and you turned to go back in.

Eden was waiting for you when you returned, back to clutching her bunny.

“Don’t you want to finish your picture?” you asked, sitting down in front of her.

She pushed it across to you.

“Oh are you done?”

She nodded.

You picked up the picture, noticing four stick figures. Two seemed to be girls, two seemed to be boys. They looked like they could represent all four missing kids.

“Are these you and your friends?” you asked gently.

She didn’t say anything for a beat, then came a soft, timid voice.

“They aren’t my friends...at least not until a few days ago.”

“My friends here, they found out that you didn’t know these other three children. Is that right?”

Eden nodded again.

“Do you know the woman who took you?”

“No,” she said, equally as quiet as before.

“You’re doing a great job, Eden,” you smiled at her, hoping to encourage her, “Just a few more questions, okay?”

Another nod.

“Can you describe where you were?”

“I...I don’t know,” her voice trembled, as if she were going to cry.

You heard the door open up behind you and you turned to see Spencer. He gave you a terse shake of his head, as if telling you now was not the time to snap at him.

“Eden?” Spencer came around to her side and crouched by her, “You remember me, right? I’m Spencer.”

She nodded hesitantly.

“I want to try to help you help Miss Y/N here. To tell her what the place looked like that you were at.”

“But I don’t remember,” Eden said, frowning.

“I think you do. You know how when you’re afraid, you hide?” Spencer asked gently.

Eden nodded her answer.

“Well, that’s kinda what your brain is doing. It’s scared, so you think you can’t remember. What I want to do is have you to close your eyes and think back to before you were taken.”

“No, I’m scared,” Eden whimpered, hugging the stuffie.

“It’ll be okay. I’m right here,” he offered her his hand, which she took reluctantly, “I’ll be right here the entire time. If things get too scary, just squeeze my hand and we can stop. Alright?”

“Alright.”

She closed her eyes, listening to Spencer’s voice.

You were amazed at how soft and gentle he was with her. It was like seeing all of his razor sharp edges he displayed around you, smoothed out. You couldn’t remember if you’d ever heard him like this.

“Just focus on the sound of my voice,” Spencer whispered, “You were playing at the park. What were you doing?”

“Playing on the swing with my bunny,” she said.

“Okay, that’s good Eden, you’re doing wonderful. What do you hear?”

“Lots of kids playing. They’re very loud.”

“What happens next?”

“There’s a lady behind me. She asks if I would like to play in the sandbox with her. I told her yes but I didn’t want to get bunny dirty.”

Eden is trembling now and you eye Spencer warily. He holds his free hand up and you don’t say anything, just yet.

“Very good Eden. Did you go play in the sandbox?”

“No. She took my hand and led me away from the swings. I asked her where she’s going because the sandbox was the other way.”

“Do you want to stop, Eden?” Spencer asked.

“N-No. I a big girl like mommy always says.”

“Okay. What happened then, sweetheart?”

“She grabbed me and put her hand over my mouth. I tried screaming for my mommy, but I couldn’t. She took me to a car.”

“Can you remember what the car looked like?”

“Um, blue. It was blue. It had a lot of doors. It was long too.”

Spencer looked like he realized what she was describing.

“Did the middle door slide open and closed?”

She nodded, her eyes still closed.

“It was big inside with lots of seats. That’s all I saw before she covered my eyes.”

It sounded like an SUV or family van.

“When you were in the car, did you ride for a really long time? Or a short time?”

“A short time.”

You jotted the note down.

“One last question honey. Do you remember anything about the room you were in? What did it look like?”

“Like...like my bedroom. Only much dirtier. And old looking. There’s...there’s flowers on the wall. There’s a lot of toys, but I don’t want to play. I want to go home. Me and my friends are so scared. She’s coming back, she's coming back!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay! I’m right here.”

Eden’s eyes snapped open and he enveloped her in his arms, holding her tightly as she trembled.

She didn’t let go of him until her parents arrived.

•

After kicking the information over to Garcia and her being the goddess she is at finding even the most hidden information, she found the house.

The team had found her car, registered to Kali, but with a false last name. From there, Garcia looked for any run down buildings or homes for rent within 10 to 15 minutes of that park. The team agreed that Kali wouldn’t have bought a house for the simple reason of too much work. She didn’t seem to be that dedicated to a well thought out plan. That was when Garcia discovered an old house rented under the name of Kali Rowe, the same last name of the family she had been a nanny for.

You stayed behind while the team went out to rescue the children and hopefully bring Kali Dye into custody. 

They did.

All four kids were now safely reunited with their parents and Kali had been arrested and hopefully was going to get the help she needed.

Since you hadn’t been there, JJ had filled you in afterwards when everybody had gotten back. You were sitting next to one another in the briefing room, talking, while everything settled down. 

Kali Dye had been so distraught over the loss and destruction of her nannying career. Apparently at one point, she had been a wonderful nanny. What had happened with Daisy, truly was an accident. Whether she had had a mental breakdown or suffered from an unknown or untreated mental illness beforehand, they didn’t know. But she soon became desperate to prove she was a good nanny.

She kidnapped Daisy first, to prove her point. Then three other children that she’d followed, learning their schedules. 

She had taken good care of them, at least in her mind. In reality, she hadn’t hurt them or touched them one bit. She fed them, gave them all attention and all the toys they wanted, to play with.

It was a sad situation, really. But you were glad that the families had a happy ending and their children were back safely in their homes tonight.

“You did good little sis,” JJ smiled, “Keep it up and you may just have to think about switching careers.”

“No thanks,” you chuckled, “I’m happy teaching kids, not seeing them in life threatening situations. I don’t have the heart for that.”

“Spence said you did really well getting Eden to open up,” she said.

“I’m surprised he actually knows how to compliment a person, let alone me,” you scoffed.

“Y/N. Come on. What’s your deal with him? This has been going on for years now.”

“I don’t know. I just can’t stand him.”

“That’s a cop out and you know it,” JJ said, “He’s a good guy. Besides, you used to have a crush on him when you were younger.”

“Ew, did I?” 

You wrinkled your nose, trying to remember. JJ had joined the BAU when you were only 14. A lot had happened in high school, let alone the 15 years since she’d first joined. You didn’t visit her very often because of school and all of your other extracurricular activities, so you hadn’t met the team until about a year after she started.

“You don’t mean the summer after my freshman year, do you?” you asked, “Cause back then he was a cute little dweeb and it lasted like two seconds anyway. I had a case of raging hormones to the point I had a crush on just about anything male with two legs.”

You rolled your eyes, disgusted at the fact she’d even think that you’d have a crush on Spencer. Although deep down, deep, deep, deep down, a little part of you knew that she’d hit the nail on the head.

“Why do you hate him though? He’s my best friend. I love him and I want you two to get along.”

You snorted.

“Yeah, I know you love him. Remember, you told me that you told him that you’ve always loved him? That he was your first love?”

You bit your lip, trying hard to keep the jealous edge out of your tone. This is what you’d tried hard to avoid all these years. You hated that you felt like this but you’d been covering up your true feelings for him and the situation, with anger all these years. If you kept yourself at a distance, you were less likely to get hurt.

How wrong you were.

“Is that what this is about? Because I told Spence I loved him?”

“No.”

Maybe.

“Y/N.”

She gave you the same look that your mother had given you in the elevator just days before.

“Jeez, you’ve got mom’s “look” down pat,” you mumbled.

“Please tell me the truth. Is my confession why you hate him?”

Her eyes pleaded with you and you couldn’t help but cave. She was your sister and your best friend and you knew she cared.

“No. I don’t know, maybe partially. But I disliked him way before that anyway. He’s just a know-it-all smartass, that annoys the shit out of me and is just like every other guy to fall head over heels in love with Jennifer Jareau.”

You grimaced, ��For a guy that has an IQ of 187, he sure doesn’t know how to be different from other guys.”

“Okay hold up,” JJ held up her hands, “First of all, he is not head over heels in love with me.”

“JJ, please. You’re not an idiot.”

“I’m serious. He may have been once, but he’s not anymore. We’re best friends and that’s it. Besides, we worked out that mess over a year ago. He’s even dated since then.”

“The kid actually dates? I’m shocked,” you said, putting a hand on your chest in mock surprise.

JJ ignored your antics, continuing on.

“Second. He’s actually a really great guy, Y/N. He’s a real sweetheart, really. It’s just a side of him that you don’t see.”

“Yeah like the dark side of the moon,” you muttered.

“Just give him a chance and try to be nice? You know what mom always said. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Besides, if you want to go for him, that’s fine.”

You laughed outright at that. As if that would happen.

“On that note, I think I’m gonna head back to your place,” you said standing.

“I have to stay a little later to finish up some work. Can you get home okay on your own?”

You assured her you could and you grabbed your purse. 

“Y/N?” she called, as you were about to the glass doors.

“Yeah?” 

“Just think about what I said, okay?”

•

If you thought you were gonna get a reprieve after that uncomfortable conversation, you were sorely mistaken.

The moment you stepped out of the BAU, you saw Spencer standing, waiting for the elevator, his hands clutching the strap of his tan satchel as he waited.

“Ah, there she is. The woman who saved the day,” he quipped sarcastically.

“Fuck off Reid. I’m not in the mood.”

“You know, I’m actually shocked that you’re good at something besides bitching.”

You ignored him, your teeth clenching.

“I’m surprised you held your tongue as long as you did earlier. Bet that’s a record for you.”

The elevator doors opened and you got on without a word, Spencer following you.

“What? No comebacks? Amazing. Has Spencer Reid actually won for once?”

You whirled on him, dropping your purse to the elevator floor in the process.

“No because you’re full of shit. You’re the most annoying, stubborn ass, infuriating, egocentric, smart aleck in a fancy suit I’ve ever met!”

His eyes narrowed and his mouth hardened. He pulled his satchel over his head, dropping it too, to the floor. He pushed the emergency button of the elevator with such anger, it was amazing that he didn’t break it. The elevator suddenly came to an abrupt halt.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” you screeched.

Your body was thrumming with anger. You could and likely would pummel him at any second.

“You’re not leaving this elevator until you tell me what the fuck your problem is,” Spencer glared.

“My problem?” you huffed.

“Yes because I have to deal with you jumping down my throat every single time I see you. You’re the most stuck up, spoiled, self centered, bitchy little brat I’ve had to deal with!”

“Ha! You sure you’re not talking about yourself?”

“You know what I think your problem is?” he challenged.

“Go ahead, try me. I’d love to hear.”

“I think, you don’t know how to deal with how you’re really feeling. So you hide it under anger. You lash out every time your feelings threaten to surface. It’s become a defense mechanism. It’s all you know. You fight with me because it’s the only way to protect yourself; you throw words as your daggers. Simply because you can’t get me out of your mind. I push you to limits you don’t want to think about. You may swear and declare that you hate me but in reality, you’d be thrilled if I took you right up against this elevator wall.”

His voice grew deeper with every word that tumbled out of his mouth.

“Are you profiling me? Cause that’s one hell of a reach.”

“Is it though? You wanna know how I figure that? You told me the other day that I met my match. That I can’t help but fight with you because you get under my skin. Well you were right. I do enjoy it and I think you do too. Because it turns you on. It does the same thing to me. You get under my skin yet at the same time all I can think about is how I want to fuck you until you’re screaming my name.”

“You think I’m gonna fall for that shit from just another guy who’s crazy about JJ?” you sneered.

For the first time, he actually looked just the tiniest bit surprised.

“You think I have feelings for JJ? If I had feelings for her, do you honestly think I’d spend all my time and attention on you?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know?”

“JJ isn’t the one that occupies my brain, no matter what I try to do, Y/N,” he said through gritted teeth.

His face was mere inches away from yours now. Close enough to see an array of scattered freckles on his face. A few under one eye, a tiny one on the side of his nose, one on his forehead.

His stubble had gotten heavier in the last few days, becoming more scruff than stubble. His lips were naturally plump, an asset that would be the envy of any woman. They were also a natural shade of dark pink, maybe even leaning towards red. 

Anger heated his eyes. Or was it desire? You wondered if you looked the same way. Right now, they looked more green in the brighter light in the elevator, but you could still see rings of brown around the edges of his eyes. They were also filled with mischief as if he were up for a challenge.

“You really think you’re going to distract me by putting your tongue in my mouth and getting my panties wet?” you hissed.

“Is that what you want?” 

A smirk formed on his lips. He was definitely challenging you.

Your legs were trembling now. Although if you were to admit it, you weren’t entirely sure if it was from anger or arousal.

You pressed your lips together, refusing to say anything, almost afraid what would come out of your mouth. He had you cornered up against the wall now.

“Maybe I should just find out for myself,” he said, propping his hands on either side of the wall by your head, “Make you moan in my mouth while I finger you.”

The anger that was coursing your veins earlier had definitely now turned into desire. Your stomach churned with it. You could feel his body mere inches from yours and the heat from it was making your entire body temperature feel that much higher.

“It’s not like I haven’t imagined making you moan my name,” he whispered, his voice gravelly, his tongue moving out over his lips in a quick swipe.

Your breathing had become shallow and you were throbbing with need. Before you could think of what you were doing, you were already unbuttoning your jeans.

“For once in your life I wish you’d shut up and just do it,” you grunted.

He grabbed your face roughly with both hands, his lips colliding with yours. They were hot and rough against yours, this kiss so hungry and animalistic that it was unreal.

His body was pressed against yours as he pressed you against the cool, metal wall. You could feel his arousal pressed against your thigh and you unwittingly moaned into his mouth. You had a difficult time wrapping your head around the fact that you’d gotten him so hard.

Then again, you were having a hard time wrapping your mind around anything that didn’t involve him.

His tongue moved with yours, ironically increasing your desire, making you wetter. Just like you’d voiced earlier. Damn, the guy sure knew what he was doing.

He pulled your jeans roughly down your legs until they were enough out of the way that he was satisfied. His lips attacked your jaw, then neck, being anything but gentle, but it was working you up more than anything.

Your hands gripped his arms, your teeth bearing down into your bottom lip, resisting the urge to give in to what he wanted: hearing you moan.

He pulled away from you making you suddenly desperate for his lips on your skin again. He pried your hands away from him and held them against the wall, his hips pressing into yours.

His suit pants were a lot thinner than your jeans, so you could feel his erection pressing into you, dangerously close to your throbbing core where all of a sudden, you wanted him the most.

Spencer’s fingers ghosted over the fabric of your underwear, causing you to inhale sharply. It felt good and you wanted more.

You reached for his hand, trying to push it against your core, but he pulled it away, shaking his head.

“No. This is all you’re getting until you admit it.”

His finger trailed up the center of your panties, having just enough pressure to slightly feel his touch. You groaned at his teasing. If your past years of banter had been foreplay then you were more than ready for him to have you.

“Admit what?”

“That you want this,” Spencer stated simply.

His fingertip swirled lightly over the fabric, just above your clit. Light enough that you didn’t get any real friction from the touch and you bucked your hips, desperate to feel it.

“I think it’s fucking obvious,” you said through clenched teeth.

“Yes, but I want to hear you say it.”

His smirk was wolfish. You knew he wasn’t going to give in unless you did what he said.

“I want this,” you groaned.

“What’s that?” he tipped his head to the side, “Can’t hear you.”

“I want this,” you said, a notch louder, gripping his wrist.

“This?”

His fingers dipped into your underwear and his thumb pressed hard against your clit.

“Ah, fuck yes,” you moaned.

He grinned, his finger dipping into your wet warmth.

“Seems like my tongue in your mouth did indeed make you wet,” he chuckled lowly, pulling your underwear off with his other hand.

His fingers teased you as you writhed and moaned, clawing at the elevator wall behind you. He had this amazing way of rubbing his knuckles against your walls as his fingers pumped in and out of you.

“Holy shit, fuck Spencer,” you whined.

You were so turned on, you hardly had any recognition of what was tumbling out of your mouth. It sure seemed to please Spencer, though.

He kept you on your toes though, slowing his fingers just when you thought you were reaching the brink of your orgasm, twisting them so gradually, it was almost painfully pleasant. You swore your eyes almost rolled back in your head when his fingers curled inward in his direction, catching that sweet spot at just the right angle.

He was kissing you as you moaned appreciatively in his mouth. His hands were quite literally magical.

His fingers finally sped up, his thumb focusing all its attention on your clit. You could feel your release quickly approaching and you were ready to succumb to it. You wanted Spencer Reid to make you cum so hard you’d be begging for more.

He did just that.

Your high hit you as you released on his fingers. Your eyes screwed shut, your head banging against the wall. You actually think you stopped breathing for a short second before air rushed back into your lungs and you released a long moan.

“Oh my god, Spencer,” you groaned, reaching for the waistband of his pants.

He’d given you one hell of an orgasm and here you were, ready to beg for more. Especially if they came while he was buried to the hilt inside you.

“That was hot as hell,” he muttered, kissing you again, “It’s sexy seeing you spend all your energy on an orgasm instead of yelling at me. It’s healthier for your body, too.”

He smirked, his teeth pulling on your lower lip gently before pulling away. His hands were working with yours to push his pants down and his boxers too.

“Are you willing to admit you want me to fuck you against this wall now?” he growled.

“Yes, yes. Fuck yes, please.”

Man, if he wanted you to be his bitch ages ago, he probably should’ve just fucked you. One orgasm at his hands and you had turned into a writhing, begging and moaning heap.

But still, you couldn’t help but wonder if he could make you feel so good with his hands, that it would most likely be ten times as amazing with his dick.

He lifted you up, holding you against the wall. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he pushed into you. You felt yourself stretching in ways you hadn’t felt in a long time and you couldn’t hold it back; a long, low moan of gratification left your lips.You hated to admit it, but he felt fucking fantastic inside of you.

By his own confirming groan, you could tell he felt the same way as you. At the back of your mind you couldn’t help but wonder why this hadn’t happened years ago. 

His hips rocked against yours, slowly at first as his mouth found yours. He was as ravenous for you as you were for him. 

Your fingers dug into his back as his thrusts became faster and harder. He was quite literally fucking you into this metal wall and you were loving every second of it.

Your emitted moans were coming every few seconds with every slap of your skin against his. His own grunts and groans came from deep in his throat, making you even hotter.

“S-Spencer,” you stuttered, pulling his face back to yours.

You have him a brief kiss before smirking up at him.

“I’m the spoiled little brat that’s got you moaning like a little bitch,” you panted.

Your words made him groan as he gripped your sides. He must have excellent control because he managed to get a hold of himself, slowing his hips to where he was tantalizingly pulling out of you and pushing back in.

“Still hate me, Y/N?”

“Right now, yes,” you groaned, trying to pull him deeper within you, wanting the previous speed and depth back.

“Now?”

“Ye- ahhh,” a breathy moan came from you as he resumed his harsher and faster thrusts.

“I don’t hate you,” you groaned, lost in the pleasure he was giving you.

Maybe voiced thoughts during sex were the truth because you actually didn’t hate him. Especially right now.

“Fuck, Y/N, yes baby,” he groaned.

He was close to his peak, you could tell. His fingers were on your clit, circling furiously. He was going to make sure you got your orgasm, before he got his. Who knew he was actually so decent?

Your whimpers, moans and groans were rising in pitch. You halfway hoped no one could hear, but at the same time didn’t care. Let the whole building hear.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Spencer, I’m coming, I’m-”

With that, the coil of pleasure that had been building up snapped like a broken rubber band, shooting through your entire body. 

You may have screeched too, you’re not entirely sure. You were completely lost to the bliss of your orgasm and even more so when he came apart not long after you. If you had thought he was attractive before, he was a hundred times more sexy when he was orgasming above you, all caused by you.

Your movements slowed, your chests both heaving. He held onto you carefully, as if he was afraid to set you down just yet. Probably a good idea considering you felt like you’d lost all function in your legs.

You laughed incredulously, unable to believe what had just happened. That had simultaneously been the craziest yet hottest thing you’d ever done.

Spencer’s smirk was replaced with a more shy, happy smile. It was a better look than the scowl he’d worn for you for so long.

It was like the moment that first orgasm hit you, all the anger, all the hatred, all the negative feelings you’d felt towards him drained from your body. You didn’t have the willpower or the desire to hate him anymore. Not that you ever really had.

“I meant what I said,” you said quietly.

“What’s that? You said a lot of things,” he chuckled.

“That I don’t hate you.”

He took a few moments in silence, parting from you and gently setting your feet on the floor again. He took his time getting decent again, as well. You worried at your bottom lip as you did the same, nervous that you’d said the wrong thing.

“So I was right? About the defensive mechanism and everything?”

“Yeah,” you nodded somberly, “I horribly misjudged you; thinking you were stuck up, full of yourself, better than anyone else, the kind of guy that was like all the others and in love with my sister.”

“If anything, I would think what just happened would prove more than anything that my sights are set on you.”

He had a point.

“Why did you hate me though?”

“I was thrown off by your reaction to me. I thought you were a self entitled, spoiled brat and that you thought you were better than me. Seems like we both vastly misjudged one another.”

“It’s kinda a good thing though,” you said.

Spencer looked at you, baffled.

“It is?”

“Well yeah, cause if none of that happened then that wouldn’t have happened either,” you gestured to the place where moments before the two of you had been a tangle of limbs.

“Good point,” he chuckled.

“Uh, Spencer?”

“Hmm?” he looked at you, eyebrows raised.

“You might want to get the elevator moving again.”

“Oh! Right.”

He laughed, hitting the emergency button to restart the elevator.

“I apologize for giving you so much grief though. I’d do anything to make it up to you,” you said.

“How about letting me take you out then? You’re still here for a few more days, aren’t you?” he asked.

You smiled.

“I think I can make all the time in my schedule for you, Spencer.”

His answering smile was enough to make you smile in return.

Oddly enough, the elevator had gone down and back up without stopping, returning to the floor the BAU was on.

“That’s weird,” Spencer mumbled.

The doors parted to JJ waiting to get on.

“Hey, what are you guys still doing here? I thought you left an hour ago.”

Huh, so it’d been an hour. 

She got on the elevator, standing between the two of you.

“Elevator issues,” Spencer answered, before you could think of what to say.

“So you’ve been stuck in the elevator together this entire time?” JJ asked.

“Yup,” you answered.

“I guess it’s a miracle you two didn’t tear each other apart then,” she muttered, hitting the button for the ground floor.

Yeah, there might’ve been some tearing involved.

Behind her back, you and Spencer shared a secret smile.

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[unmaskedagain]

Yeah, I’m done

I got in this prompt in November, if I remember right. I didn’t really look at it because… What the hell is a fall out fic?!!! I thought maybe it meant Lila exposed but I’ve done quite a few of those. However, I don’t really think I ever focused on it too much; usually, I stray to all the wonderful things Marinette does without them. This came from someone anonymous so It's not like I can just ask the sender… SO I decided to wing it.

Marinette could honestly say she had waited a very long time for Lila to be exposed as the liar she was. Over a year in fact. A very long fourteen months.

           If Marinette was honest with herself, she would also add that she stopped waiting for any reason other than the fact she hated lies about… seven months, three days, and seven hours ago.

           Why did she remember that so well?

           That was the moment Marinette stopped trying to save everyone. Don’t get her wrong; she was still Ladybug. Ladybug was still a kickass hero. She did her job better than ever before.

           However, Marinette decided to take a step back, breathe, and let the chips fall where they may.

           Her fellow students, her once friends, had been trapped in the spider web of Lila’s tales; awestruck and utterly hypnotized into believing everything the Italian girl had to say. Even the ones about a girl most had known their entire lives.

A bully, they called her.

A selfish jerk.

A jealous bitch.

           Her! Marinette! The girl who had done so much for them; had gone to bat for them more times than she could count, and obviously more times than they could remember.

           Slowly, one by one, her friendship with each and every member of the class withered and died until there was nothing left but ashes.

           It was then Marinette realized some things weren’t worth saving.

           Marinette had no trouble forgiving them; it was who she was. But she promised herself she wouldn’t forget.

           And if they could treat her like this, after everything, that she didn’t want to be friends with them anyway. Not now, not ever.

           When Marinette stood up and announced her resignation from being Class President at the end of the prior school year, the entire class cheered. Like they did when Chloe was forced out of office. (…That only broke Marinette’s heart a little.)

           The bluenette changed her number the day after school officially let out for summer. It wouldn’t matter, she knew. She doubted they’d even realize. Most hadn’t so much as texted her in months. Unless they needed something; a favor.

           But Marinette was done with favors. Done with free commissions that no one ever seemed to realize cost her an arm and a leg; the fabric was expensive, art supplies for banners were expensive, designing was time-consuming. She was done with any free babysitting. She was done to bring in free sweets on big test days or when the class had a hard week prior. Marinette was done fundraising for class trips and events Bustier would exclude her from at the behest of the rest of the class for her “poor attitude” and “negative energy”. She was done with planning birthdays, making special presents, when no one in class even bothered to wish her a happy birthday.

           And most of all, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was done fighting for people who didn’t fight for her. She had tried for months and months to get them to listen to her and what did she get in return? Deemed a green-eyed Liar! As far as she was concerned Lila and Chloe could have at it; do whatever they wanted.

           She didn’t have a single friend in class.

           They weren’t her concern anymore.

…

           It took about a month into the new school years for the class to really understand that. Lila had originally voted in as class president, and had feigned a few tears while thanking the class for the honor but had declined due to being too busy. So Alya was voted in next.

           Alya handled the first two birthdays, Ivan’s and Alix’s, really well; she decorated their desks, gave them a birthday card. However, the usual tray of baked goods that were usually brought in for every birthday never showed.

           When Alya inquired if Bustier had forgotten to order the cupcakes, the teacher had looked confused.

           Marinette tried not to smirk as she sat in the back of the class, pretending to look over her sketchbook.

“I’ve never ordered any before,” Bustier said. “Marinette always did. She was class president. It was her job.”

           The two looked back at Marinette; expectant looks on their faces.

           The Asian girl snorted. It was never the class president’s job. Chloe never did it in all the years she ruled the class with an iron fist. Marinette had done it because she had been their friend. And she didn’t order them. She bought the ingredients and made them herself.

“It’s the job for the new class president,” Marinette corrected and watched Alya’s face fall. Normally, at that point, Alya would try to ask Marinette for a favor; for Marinette to do it instead.

           However, the glasses-wearing girl had taken to ignoring her ex-bestie as much as she could.

��Fine!” Alya huffed. “I’ll do it myself.”

           The next thing the class realized had changed was when Bustier announced, “Maybe it’s time we start planning for any class field trips?”

           Alya had nodded earnestly, and started making outrageous plans for all the trips the class could take; one to Paris Disney world, another to England, New York, L.A, and so many other very costly ideas.

           Ideas, when Marinette was Class president, she would’ve quickly shot down as being impractical, expensive, dangerous, impossible, and any whatever other reason she could think of so the class wouldn’t get their hopes up.

           Alya did no such thing.

           Marinette just shook her head, and let her ex-friend dig her own grave.

           The announcement happened in the morning. Alya had stayed behind when the bell rang for lunch to talk to the teacher and had blatantly glared at Marinette as she said so

           And Marinette knew exactly what Alya was planning on talking to Bustier about.

           Sure enough, at the end of the school day, Bustier had made another announcement; in front of the entire class.

           Marinette really hated how unprofessional the teacher was.

           Bustier made it clear that, once again, Marinette was excluded from the class trips that year until her behavior changed. This caused half the class, specifically Lila and Alya, to send her smug looks.

           Marinette had nodded, “I understand, Miss Bustier. I can’t say it won’t be a relief not to have to help fundraiser.” The smug looks didn’t entirely disappear but a few faces looked confused instead as if they didn’t realize that meant Marinette wouldn’t help. “I always hated all the planning it took,” And doing all the work, she didn’t add. “Fundraiser after fundraiser. Coming up with the budget, making reservations, clearing it with the school board, clearing it with the parents, getting chaperones, actually raising the money.” She gave a fake sad sigh. “Oh well. Hope you guys have a blast though.”

           Then it came time to plan for the first fundraiser. A bake sale.

           Marinette had nearly fallen out of her chair laughing when Alya brought it up. Because the bluenette had always hated doing bake sales as she was the only one who ever brought in any baked goods. It was like the entire class thought that just because Marinette lived in a bakery it would be easy for her to get all the food needed.

           It wasn’t. She made most of it herself and bought the rest with her own money.

“So who’s going to bring what?” Alya asked. She looked straight at Marinette and seemed to wat for the bluenette to speak. Only for Marinette to raise an eyebrow as if daring her to ask. Alya looked surprised for a moment before she seemed to remember that Marinette wasn’t going to help out. “We’ll make a list.”

           No one said a word.

           Marinette leaned back in her seat, with a smirk on her face. Alya had said they needed to raise at least $2,000 for the bakery. A highly unrealistic goal. Marinette had only ever raised $423 from a bake sale before.

“I can bring in cookies,” Alya offered once the silence and confused looks continued. “Anyone else? Nino?” She asked her boyfriend.

           Nino’s eyes went wide, “Uh, I usually just play the music.” Alya glared at him. “But my mom has a killer blondie recipe. I can ask her to make some.”

           Alya nodded, “Sweet. Rose?” And then, one by one, Alya called on each member of the class to see what she could force them to bring.

Even though all but one person in the class promised to bring something; it still wasn’t enough. It wasn’t a very big class. Theirs were the smallest in the entire school which was why new kids always got stuffed with them. In addition, flyers and a banner still needed to be made to promote the fundraiser.

It was clear as she looked at the list that Alya knew they were in trouble. And again, her eyes went to Marinette, a little bit more pleading now. Marinette just shook her head and started sketching a new dress.

She was done with always coming to the rescue.

Marinette didn’t go the bake sale. However, she heard about how much of a disaster it was from Aurore, her new friend from Mendeleiev’s class.

Half the food was burnt and overpriced. The flyers were terrible. And then it rained halfway through.

Suffice to say, the fundraiser was a bust.

And so were the fundraisers that came after it. Never once did the class meet their goals; though admittedly, their goals were never realistic, to begin with.

Marinette knew for certain by December that there was no way the class was taking any of the “oh so amazing trips, and it’s such a pity you can’t go, Marinette” they had planned. Or any good trip for that matter.

It took months for the school board to approve big trips; weeks to approve small ones. Paperwork needed to be filed with detailed plans ready to present. If a big trip got approved, and then for some reason, they couldn’t go and decided to do a smaller trip instead, new Paperwork would need to be filled out. The new trip would need to be approved. It wasn’t like Bustier could take the class somewhere without permission. And if it wasn’t done in time, there would be no trip.

In late October, Marinette posted a flyer on the class board, and around the school, promoting her new website. It got curious glances but only Adrien asked about it.

Adrien, who was neither enemy nor friend, but a neutral party who refused to get involved. His version of the high road, Marinette guessed.

“What’s that?” He asked. “You starting your own business?”

           Marinette nodded, “MDC designs. I designed a bunch of clothes over the summer and got a few friends to model them; Aurore, Marc, Luka,” Juleka looked up at the mention of her brother “Kagami, Ondine, Claude Mireille; and a bunch of girls from the fashion club. People can choose the premade designs already promoted on the site and I can send it to them in their size. Or they can contact me for a custom piece; dresses, scarfs, nearly anything really. That’s a lot more expensive, though. Not at much as it would’ve been, say last year, but now that I’ve stopped doing free commissions, I could lower the price.” She said the last sentence louder than polite but she wanted the entire class to hear.

           No one in class blinked twice at her statement. However, Marinette knew they would.

Adrien nodded happily, “Cool, that’s kind of what my dad did in the late 90s when he was starting out. Computers were like barely a thing he said.”

           Marinette couldn’t picture a time without computers or her smartphone and couldn’t imagine a life without the internet. She shivered at the thought. “Aurore’s become really well known as an Instagram model. I gave her a few outfits in exchange for her promoting my stuff. She even got a few of her model friends to promote my clothes as well. It’s going really well. If the trend continues; I was thinking of doing a live, online, runway show. I’ve already been scouting places.”

           That got some envious looks. Whether it was because Marinette was doing so well or because others would be used as her model, she didn’t know. She didn’t care.

           Marinette was done caring about every stupid little thing.

           The blond just nodded with enthusiasm, “You’re a great designer. I’m sure you’ll be a hit in no time.

“Hopefully, rather than later,” Marinette smiled. “It’ll go even better when Nadja promotes me on her show. I just have to babysit Manon for free for five random days of Nadja’s request that she could request … any time.” It had been a steep price but Marinette had been willing to pay. “She’ll even promote my runway show if I ever have it.”

           The first time someone, Mylene, realized just what Marinette had meant when the drama club inquired to her about getting more costumes for the school play and she had no one to turn to. She took one look at commission prices for local tailors for custom pieces and nearly threw up. Marinette’s website, while still expensive, was a much better deal. Still, Mylene couldn’t afford it.

           Nino needed a gift for his mom and remembered how much she loved the scarf he got her last year. He thought it was a good idea to get her something similar. But then he remembered Marinette had made the scarf. And Alya would kill him if he bought anything from Marinette’s website. So Nino settled on something small.

           When the school dance came, for the first time the majority of the girls in class would have to buy their own dresses. They came from a store, were cheaply made, and were not nearly as amazing as the ones they previously wore.

           All in all, it wasn’t the greatest year for Bustier’s class. Midterms had taken a heavy toll. It tense and everyone was clearly frustrated. So were Marinette’s friends from other classes. So during Lunch, Marinette surprised her table with delicious baked goods as a pick me up. The ones she normally would’ve brought just for her class.

           Marinette pretended not to notice the hopeful looks on her classmates faces when she walked by with the iconic light blue Dupain-Cheng bakery box. And ignored the crestfallen looks on their faces when she headed them out to just her friends.

In April, it was clear that the trip to New York had fallen through as they didn’t have enough money. Alya had to rush to get something small approved before the end of the year; a trip to the local amusement park. Marinette didn’t laugh when Alya announced it to the class who looked really bummed all their hard work didn’t pay off. She didn’t even blink twice. It had nothing to do with her after all.

           In May, the truth finally came out. It happened on a Thursday.

           Lila had forgotten her lunch bag at home. Her mother brought it. Lila’s eyes went wide at seeing her mother and she did everything she could to get her out of the class as soon as possible.

           Rose asked Mrs. Rossi, “How the meeting in Achu went?”

           To which Lila’s mother replied, “A what now? I’ve never been to Achu.”

           Marinette had merely leaned back in her seat to watch the fireworks.

           And it was beautiful.

           It was an even bet as to who had the bigger meltdown.

           Mrs. Rossi: when she learned just how much her daughter had been lying; to her, to the school, to her classmates, and basically everyone she met since moving to Paris. Apparently, it wasn’t the first time and it caused a lot of trouble in the past which was why they had to move to France. Mrs. Rossi was quick to refute any rumors about celebrity meetings, traveling around the world, and ever meeting any royalty. And that Lila had no medical issues whatsoever and didn’t participate in any charity organization.

           Lila: she had nearly been Akumatized when her mother started to reveal the truth. Luckily, Ladybug had been nearby to catch the little butterfly. (Marinette had just left to the bathroom, not that anyone had really noticed). The hero refuted ever knowing Lila outside of stopping her akuma forms.

           And Finally Alya: who had burst into an angry rant and furious tears at being lied to. It was another near akumatization. Alya had to be physically restrained from attacking Lila once the realization hit her about her blog being discredited for lies.

           A lot of the class yelled and made accusations but no reaction was nearly as extreme as the other three. Lila had taken advantage of her classmates for almost two years. They carried her books, remade plans so she could be included, took notes for her, threw parties to celebrate her newest accomplishments.

           However, Marinette noted, not one of them mention the friendship they had destroyed because of their belief in Lila. She shouldn’t have been surprised.

           The bluenette had long since realized she wasn’t ever as important to her ex-friends she once thought.

           The entire class was still angry the next day. Lila didn’t show so vented to each other.

           Marinette still sat in the back of the class, content to come up with designs to present to a nice lady who wanted a killer dress to wear to her sister’s wedding, and let the class deal with its own drama.

           Unfortunately, some people didn’t get a clue.

“Marinette,” Adrien said brightly. Marinette fought not to look up at the sky and ask god why. “What do you think about the Lila situation?”

“I don’t really care,” The bluenette said. “I was done with the whole thing a while ago.”

           Suddenly everyone remembered Marinette was there. Marinette who swore Lila was lying for months. Marinette who they had ostracized and exiled. Marinette who they had ignored. Marinette who had once been their friend.

           Rose gasped, her hand over mouth, tears welled up in her eyes, “Marinette! I’m so sorry,” She cried.

“I can’t believe we were so mean to you,” Juleka said.

“Dudette, I had no clue what I was thinking,” Nino said.

           More apologies came, each one more heartfelt than the last. Alya had been last. She looked like she had been stabbed from the pain her face. Eventually, the glasses-wearing girl cried, “I’m so sorry girl! I’ve been the worst bestie ever. I should’ve believed you over Lie-La.”

           Marinette looked at her classmates, shrugged, and said, “Okay.” Then she went back to looking working.

           That was it. However, clearly by the silence that came from the class. They had been expected a bigger reaction. Tears of joy and relief. Happiness to have her friends back. Anything but they got nothing.

           Alya frowned, “Didn’t you hear us? We’re sorry. We should’ve trusted you, we know that now. We’ll make it up to you, we promise.”

           Marinette sighed but shook her head. “No. Thank you. I don’t need you to make it up to me,” She said. “I don’t want you to make it up to me. Just keep doing what you’ve been doing.”

“But, but…” Rose looked around for help. “We’re friends again.”

“Yeah,” Adrien said brightly. “It can go back to the way it was.”

           At that, Marinette put down her pencil. She gave the class a hard look. “Let me make this clear because I have no intention of repeating myself: we are not friends. None of you,” She gave pointed looks to her ex-friends, the longest to Adrien and Alya. “Are my friends. You were mean. You called me names. You spread nasty lies about me because Lila told them to you. You excluded me from all class activities; despite the fact that last year I did the majority of the fundraising, the planning, and the work. You hurt me. Things will not go back to the way they were. I don’t trust you. We are not friends. And we will never be friends again. No amount of apologies will change that.”

           Alya went to protest, “Girl, we’re-”

           Marinette interrupted her, “Just move on. I have.” Then put her headphones in until Bustier managed to get control back over the class. As far as Marinette was concerned there wasn’t anything left they could say.

           …

           That didn’t stop them from trying.

           No one in the class seemed to believe that Marinette, their everyday Ladybug, wouldn’t forgive them. Lila had been withdrawn from school and no one knew what happened to her. And without Lila’s presence, the class was sure Marinette would have no problem moving on from the drama the Italian girl had caused.

           They never even considered the fact that Marinette had never been angry at Lila. She hadn’t been happy at her lies. But she had been furious that her friends had fallen for them so easily, particularly the ones about the bluenette.

“Hey,” Alya said brightly stopping in front of Marinette’s desk the following Monday morning. She thought Marinette just needed the weekend to calm down. “All the girls are planning a slumber party at Rose’s on Friday, you in?”

“No,” Marinette said firmly. “I’m busy,” She offered politely.

           And she would be “busy” every time they wanted her to do something.

           Too busy to go to all the parties she had been previously excluded from. Her ex-friends still hadn’t realized Marinette had never wanted to go after she realized they just weren’t worth it anymore.

           Too busy hanging out after school. Or go to Adrien’s photoshoot. (Alya just wouldn’t understand that Marinette was so done with her crush on Adrien.)

           Too busy to help with the school play.

           Too busy to watch Kitty Section preform.

           Too busy to go play video games.

           Every day, every moment they could; her ex-friends were trying to pressure her into being their friend again, hanging out with them again, forgiving them. They just wouldn’t take no for answer.

           Honestly, Marinette was just done with their antics.

           Particularly the incessant need to make sure Marinette was on the “big” class trip; as if they believed if Marinette went it would make up for everything.

           Marinette made it clear she really, truly was way too busy to go some random beach trip. She really did have plans and she couldn’t back out of them. They were too important.

           But her ex-friends kept bringing it up, with Alya leading the charge, over and over again. They didn’t care what Marinette wanted at all. And once more, Marinette was reminded why she was glad they weren’t her friends anymore.

Eventually, once again, they got the teacher involved. Bustier had so “nicely” announced in front of the class, that Marinette was more than welcome to go on the class trip with them and that they looked forward to coming along.

And as far as Marinette was concerned that was the final straw.

“I’m good,” Marinette said. “Seeing as my behavior hasn’t changed. I think its best I don’t go; right Miss Bustier? That was what you said? And obviously to you thought it was a good reason.” She reminded the teacher. Bustier flushed a pink color at being called out. “It wasn’t like you, an adult woman, caved into peer pressure from your students and a childish need to avoid confrontational situations.”

           Silence from the class. No one had expected Marinette to react as she did. In their minds, she was still their “everyday ladybug”; the nicest and sweetest girl in school. The idea made Marinette scoff. Where was that mindset when Lila got ahold of them?

           The bluenette glared at the teacher, the woman who should’ve never let the Lila issue get as far as it did; never let Marinette be ostracized and bullied. “I mean, you called me out in front of the entire class to tell me I couldn’t go. Not the first or last time, by the way, you did something so… crass. Not the most sensitive way either.”

“Well, I think-” Bustier had tried to say but was cut off.

           Marinette wasn’t going to let her have a word in, “I’m so glad I started to record lesson last year, for you know notes? You know after that expulsion incident? I worried about what I’d miss. It made it so easy for my parents to understand why I was excluded from class events because they could watch it. I mean I have months and months of video evidence they just… loved. They got to see exactly what this class is like on an everyday basis, and exactly how you run it. So did our lawyer, who seemed rather interested in my school. It turns out that physically harming, via tripping or pushing them into walls as you walked by just hard enough for it to hurt. Or destroying private property; like a phone, spilling water on a laptop, or sketchbooks filled with work for commissions. Or verbally bullying someone. Or sending horrible texts daily, all of which I saved and printed out, can be considered harassment. Which is illegal and the perpetrators involved could face criminal charges as well as be sued for the destruction of said property and for emotional ramifications I suffered. But a teacher would never let anything like that happen in front of them so it wouldn’t be on any of the videos I have, right?”

           She let the words fill the room. Bustier had paled dramatically and looked ready to faint. The rest of the students who had taken to bullying Marinette instead of ignoring her looked sick. Marinette had no sympathy for any of them. They got themselves into this mess.

           Marinette shook her head, “I asked them to chill for now because you’re the teacher. You did what you did for a reason. It’s not like you’d shirk your responsibilities on the class representative. Or force some poor student to be a model example and mediator for all class issues. Or god forbid, cater to the bullies and blame the victim; allow one of your students to be verbally and physically harassed daily. The videos I have surely would never show anything like that; let alone prove it in a court of law… No matter what my lawyer says. But again, you don’t have to tell me why.” Marinette already knew why after all. And she was so done with Bustier. “You had to have had a good reason. Otherwise, I would have to take this to the school board. And a judge in a court of law. And see if you can explain it to them. Maybe I’ll even send them to my mom’s best friend Nadja so she can put them on her show and the world can see too. And we can find out what everyone thinks of you and your teaching methods.”

           The threat was clear to all.

           Bustier better back off. Or Marinette would make her back off.

           The teacher only had to slip once, and she was done for.

“Enjoy the trip,” The bluenette smiled cheerfully, in a way that reminded them eerily how she used to smile at them when Marinette was still their friend; still their “everyday Ladybug”. But instead of bringing warmth as it used to, all they felt was shivers. “It might our last one altogether. After all, who knows where we’ll all be in September. May be separated into different classes. Or different schools. With the way Damocles expels students with no procedure whatsoever, you never know. Or have a new teacher. We can only guess. I think its best if we just… leave things alone. With the way things are, if you push, you might get pushed back… right off a cliff.”

Marinette was done playing games.

           When the class left for their “big” trip, Marinette had finally let out a sigh of relief. Next, she was so transferring to Mendeleiev’s class.

           She was done with Bustier’s class.

           While the students of Bustier’s class were playing at the beach and plotting their next move to get Marinette to forgive them, Marinette was fulfilling one of her biggest dreams.

           The bluenette did have for her online runway show. She had spent weeks and weeks promoting it on her website. Aurore, some of the fashion club, and other rising Instagram models walked the runway in Marinette’s new line. Jagged hosted. It hadn’t been Marinette’s idea, but Jagged complained to Penny when Marinette turned him down the first time and Penny talked to Marinette.  

Chloe made a deal to her mother to watch the runaway show to review in exchange for Chloe being one of the models. Again, Marinette expressed concerns but couldn’t turn down the chance of Style Queen seeing her clothes.

Marc helped designed the runway; to give it an artistic, futuristic, edgy look. Claude brought in a smoke machine and his laser machine that the used for his short films to make everything really pop.

Clara Nightingale let Marinette use her music as the runway music. The superstar performed a song during the show and promoted it on her social media feed in exchange for a few custom pieces and Marinette getting Ladybug to do some selfies with her. (Tikki had to be bribed with an entire tray of chocolate chip cookies, and to be left alone with the TV in Marinette’s room for the night; something about finally catching up on Game of Thrones.) Marinette was quick to agree. Though Jagged had been in a huff until Marinette agreed to let him close out the show.

           The world took notice, albeit mostly because of Jagged and Clara. But Audrey, the Style Queen herself, had raved about how cutting edge it was. She claimed that an underground, exclusive, fashion show was the new big thing in fashion. The clothes were marvelous too. All in all, MDC’s runway was exciting, sophisticated, and fresh, just like her new line.

           Not long after Style Queen’s review posted, the orders had come flying in on her website. Everyone who was anyone seemed to NEED to be seen wearing the MDC brand.

           Marinette had smiled ear to ear for the rest of the weekend. She looked forward to what the future would bring.

           It was a new day.

           Which was great because…

           Marinette was so done with yesterday.

[dreamii-yume]

I'm not the anon who come up with this Singing curse Au but how about more content of it? When you get no ideal from hornii or soft, a bit of chaos shegnanigant will do the trick. Can you write more about that Au? Focus on some other writing helped me come up with the actual writing ideal I want to write, maybe Yume can try that....? 😳👉👈

@coffee-or-hot-cocoa said

“lol saw the random singing curse au. So how about instead of disney songs mc/darling sings meme songs? lol like if darling visits pomefiore she sings fashion, etc. so thoughts? and bonus points the curse was just a potions accident due to grim doing something wrong.”

•••••

Aight, I’ll take you on that advice Darling! I’ll write more about this AU, since I really find it funny just imagining them lol Cay-kun’s birthday is tomorrow anyways so, it’s fine if I slack off a bit, yeah~?

Meme songs, huh? Now, we’re talking in Yume’s language lol Beware of the cringe beyond this as this contains dead memes probably!

God, this is even funnier and more chaotic if it was Grim’s fault that got Darling in this mess in the first place. Aside from the embarrassment that you would inevitably suffer right after, this random singing curse of yours doesn’t seem to be too bad especially when you get to see the interesting reactions you get from others. Though, most of the times it’s just pure confusion on their faces as they don’t have a single clue on what the hell you’re singing, since it never existed in their world.

“SomeBODY once told me—“ Darling started, slamming a random door open with a wide smile on your face and successfully startling a few students half to death nearby. The Scarabia duo passing by and Kalim being obliviously glad at how energetic you seemed. Jamil had to look away as he snorted, seeing how the students cower away with tails between their legs was golden.

Ace and Deuce being used to Darling’s curse at this point that they basically just adapted to it. “Ah.” The rest of the first years wondered what was that single “Ah.” and Adeuce confirmingthat it was indeed considered a “song” from your world. You explained how it was uttered out by a certain 2D shark girl and people basically went crazy for it. “Yeah, we don’t get it either.” The duo gave up understanding your worlds’ “culture” eventually.

That said, the other students would be lying if they said that they don’t find this strange songs of yours catchy though.

“So, what kind of look do you wanna go for?” Imagine Vil in a good mood and decided to do Darling’s make up. You smile and said nothing, you can feel the urge to sing right on the tip of your tongue but you didn’t know what ridiculous meme song would come out of your mouth. Opening your mouth meant breaking into a song once again as it might disrupt the guy’s mood. “Hm? What’s wrong? Honey, you look like you want to say something. Go ahead, I’m feeling nice today, you see.”

His kind chuckle did not help at all and alas, you slightly opened your mouth and— “Maybe I’ll be Tracer.” “What?” You gulped with a nervous grin. “...I’m already Tracer...”

It’s worse in Halloween. “Spooky, spooky skeletons~” The Heartslabyul students are looking at you funny, but since you were singing it in such a cutesy way, they just assumed that you wanted a candy in return. “Sends shivers down your spine~” Trey filled your whole bag.

I’d also like to add that the curse does not only affect the way you talk but it also plagues your mind as well. The others looks so concerned every time you space out as even if they call out to you as loud as they can, the noise in your head wouldn’t let you hear them. They claimed that you look so serious sometimes, like you’re thinking of something deep but in reality all you were hearing was the constant replay of the Wii Theme and Undertale Soundtracks.

“Se~ no~” Skipping in the hallways, Idia hides behind a wall as he was practically lead astay to this beat you sing. He just finds it so cute! The way you swing your hips really made him imagine you like those idols performing before thousands of fans like him. He wonders if you’ll accept if a creepy otaku like him asks you to wear an idol outfit and sang that song for him in private. Idia finds himself humming and dancing slightly to your song until Cater comes in and giving him a heart attack that costs him ten years of his lifespan.

You said you wanted to try and bake for everyone, so you thought it was better to borrow the Heartslabyul kitchen. “I’m a muffin, and this is muffin time~” Coincidentally, the Heartslabyul squad passed by at the door and thought that the melody sounded cute. Without you knowing, they were peaking right by the door. Cater recording a video while Ace snickers at how girly you can be sometimes with pink cheeks. Riddle, Trey, and Deuce having the same fantasy of seeing you as a housewife baking sweets for her family to munch on. “Who wants a muffin~?”

You did a graceful spin while elegantly putting the tray inside the oven, crouching over. “Please, I just wanna die~” Upon setting the desired temperature, you spun into a small little dance. Cater almost dropped his phone. “Hey, somebody kill me~”

“Please, it’s muffin time~☆”

Needless to say, the Heartslabyul squad bursts in like undercover agents and concerned questions were frantically asked. You wanted to bake, but got a strict therapy session with Riddle and Trey instead. Ace, Deuce, and Cater blocks your exit and you were forced to stay in that room for the next three hours.

Of course. Of course. Cursed or not, your immature ass could not pass up the opportunity.

“We’re no strangers to love.”

“Child of man, what—“

“You know the rules and so do I.”

Might as well commit to it the curse then.

WHVSJXBSKW Yume is such a bitch normie lol I really listed off all the meme songs I know and picked what I can do (((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))♡ Sorry for the cringe and dead memes lol I had more memes I wanted to put in but the cringe might be too much

I had so much fun with this one, you were right Darling! This made my head grasp reality better~! Thanks! (๑>◡<๑)

[lets-steal-an-archive]

'Golden Girls' Polishes Its Scripts: Daily Revisions Geared to Sharpen Story and Hone Those Laugh Lines

TRUE OR FALSE:

Actresses Bea Arthur, Estelle Getty, Rue McClanahan and Betty White write their own dialogue for "The Golden Girls." (FALSE)

Older female writers write all 25 episodes each season because no one else could understand the problems of older females. (FALSE)

In order to keep the shows consistent from week to week, one writer prepares all the episodes. (FALSE)

Ten staff writers work together to prepare a season's worth of scripts. (TRUE)

It's a Monday morning in early October and on a sound stage at the small Renmar Studios in Hollywood, the "golden girls" have gathered to read a new script. This will be episode No. 60 of the series and it will air about three weeks later — on Halloween.

Everyone in the room has heard about this week's story line: Rose writes a letter to Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev. But apart from the writers, no one has seen the final script until now. It was completed on a Saturday, photocopied 150 times on Sunday and distributed this morning to NBC; co-producer Touchstone Pictures; the show's creator, Susan Harris; the show's lawyers and researchers, and the "Golden Girls" cast and crew.

"Hopefully, they'll laugh," murmurs head writer Kathy Speer as she prepares to hear the "table reading." "If they don't, we'll be here fixing the script for a long time."

The table reading really is at tables — eight of them arranged in a rectangle. The actresses and guest actors sit on one side, facing the writers. To the actresses' left are director Terry Hughes, executive producers Paul Junger Witt and Tony Thomas and co-executive producers/head writers Speer and Terry Grossman. To the actresses' right sit NBC representatives, the show's casting director and props and wardrobe personnel.

They begin. Director Hughes reads the stage directions: Interior, kitchen — day. Sophia is seated at table. She is reading book entitled 'Magic Made Easy.' Dorothy enters.

Bea Arthur, as Dorothy, reads: "Hi, Ma."

Estelle Getty, as Sophia, reads: "Give me your watch."

Another week is under way. As the actresses go through their lines, everyone else listens intently. They laugh (or don't laugh) and take notes. By the Friday-night tapings, this script will need to play at 22 minutes. But Friday is a long way off.

As soon as the table reading ends, the writers, producers, director and an NBC program executive huddle to discuss script changes. Then, while the actresses begin rehearsals using the first draft, the writers rush off to their yellow stucco two-story building nearby to begin rewriting.

"The secret of TV half-hour comedy shows is the revisions," explains Dean Valentine, NBC director of current comedy and also the program executive on "Golden Girls." "What they start out with is 75% away from what they end up with."

"I don't think this episode is going to need much work," co-head writer Terry Grossman announces cheerfully on his way back to his office. "It got a good response at the table. We just have to cut it, smooth out transitions and clarify some story points. New jokes will be the tough thing." He anticipates a few hours' work.

"Early in the first season we were throwing out whole scenes," he recalls. "Now we know what works for each lady and what she does best. That's the advantage of being in the third year of the show. The disadvantage is that stories are harder to come by."

Grossman heads into the office he shares with his wife Speer, who is also his writing partner. They are in charge of the writing staff. "That means we are the two who get yelled at the most when something goes wrong," he jokes.

Also piling into the conference-sized room are supervising producers Barry Fanaro and Mort Nathan and producer Winifred Hervey. Despite their titles, Grossman explains, "We're all writers."

"We are the five most dull people," Nathan insists.

"We're much funnier on paper," Hervey adds.

These five, all in their 30s, met when they worked on "Benson," an earlier Witt-Thomas-Harris series. They have been with "Golden Girls" since the beginning, and every Monday they jointly rewrite the script being taped that week. They jokingly call themselves The Gang of Five.

While they start rewriting, the show's other five staff writers — Chris Lloyd, Jeff Ferro, Frederic Weiss, Robert Bruce and Martin Weiss — go back to their own offices to work on new scripts.

"To keep quality, you like as many writers as you can afford," Speer explains. "This year, we have six 'entities' (writing teams) — four sets of partners and two individuals. And we also use a few free-lance scripts each season."

Approximately 25% of the show's budget goes to the writers, executive producer Tony Thomas says. Staff writers on a comedy series earn a weekly salary plus separate payments for completed scripts. A free-lance writer who does a story outline, a first draft and a second draft can earn about $11,000. (Note: All outside script submissions must come through agents.)

"A good comedy requires a lot of teamwork, a lot of people sitting in a room working together," Thomas emphasizes. "A good team is rare, but it's not extremely rare. It's like winning the NBA title. We had it in 'Soap,' and we had it for some years in 'Benson.' Obviously this is one of the most successful staffs we’ve ever put together."

Both Witt and Thomas deal with day-to-day details on "Golden Girls." Harris, who created the series, is less involved this season because, according to Thomas, "She is working on a feature for Disney with us. But she reads all the scripts and is familiar with most of the stories."

Flashback to the previous Friday, a week when "Golden Girls" wasn't taping. Every fourth week during the season, the show shuts down, giving the actors and crew a rest and allowing the writers to catch up.

The Gang of Five is trying to explain how their writing process works. They insist on telling, rather than showing, because, as they say, they're shy. "At the beginning of the season, even having our new writers in the meeting made me a little uncomfortable," Grossman admits. "It slowed down the process."

"One of the most important things that exists with this group is that the bottom line is making the show as good as possible. It's still very difficult when your script is read for the first time and the material doesn't work. It hurts for a moment. But there's no time to take it personally. It didn't work, and the clock is ticking. You better keep moving and get it right."

Like all sitcoms, "Golden Girls" has a "bible," a book that synopsizes everything that has happened on a series. Thus, new writers don't have to watch all the previous episodes. But there is no master plan of what will happen in the future.

The idea for "Letter to Gorbachev" surfaced last May at a beginning-of-the-season meeting of the writers and producers. "It was one of 20 or 30 story notions kicked around," Barry Fanaro recalls. The obvious similarity to Samantha Smith's letter to then-Soviet leader Yuri Andropov isn't mentioned.

"Most of them didn't work,” adds Fanaro's writing partner Mort Nathan, "but this one sounded amusing. Because Rose is a childlike character, we wondered what would happen if she wrote a letter to Gorbachev about world peace. We started fleshing it out, but we couldn't think of a second act. We went round and round, and finally six weeks later we came up with a way to make the story work."

"The five of us went over it scene by scene and agreed it was workable," Fanaro continues. "Then Mort and I went off and wrote it. It took about 10 days because we were also working on other things."

Each "Golden Girls” episode is written to a formula: "the idea, the act break and the resolution," Grossman explains. "Usually there's an 'A' story and a 'B' story going. It's the natural structure."

Although Fanaro and Nathan, who won a writing Emmy last year for a "Golden Girls" episode, wrote the basic Gorbachev script, the story the audience will see has gone through the usual "Golden Girls" grinder: The Gang of Five read and dissect the first draft, adding new scenes, new lines, new jokes. "It's really a team effort," Grossman stresses.

The jokes can be the easiest part — or the hardest. "They're only hard to write when you've got one that isn't working," Grossman says. "A joke in the middle of a scene can be weak, but the 'out joke' — a snappy one-liner that ends the scene on a laugh — has to be strong."

"We may decide a scene needs a new opening," Speer explains. "There will be a long moment of silence. Then someone will ask if anybody's eaten at some new restaurant. In the course of conversation, somebody will say, 'Wait a minute. I have an idea.'"

"With five of us, at least one of us is paying attention," Hervey deadpans.

"Good writers should be able to write for men, women, old or young," Grossman says. "We all draw on other people in our lives — parents, grandparents. Part of the reason for the show's popularity is that these are very vital people. The very same story you've seen 100 times on every sitcom takes on new light with characters in this age group. That makes life easier for us.

"Also, these four actresses are sensational. To have the entire cast be able to give such high-caliber performances means you don't have to adjust your material. You write the material, and they deliver. If they can't make it work, there's something wrong with the material."

The week goes by quickly. On Tuesday morning, the "golden girls" read over the revised script and discover that one scene has changed considerably. Some lines have been cut, while others have been sharpened. There are several new jokes. A press conference scene has been shifted from a hotel room to the ladies' living room.

On Tuesday night, the Gang of Five works late. During the day's rehearsals they realized that the revised scene didn’t play well so they jettisoned it and added some new dialogue and a few more jokes.

Following Wednesday's rehearsals, they hone the script a little more. Time is pressing. By the Thursday afternoon dress rehearsal, the actresses try to be script-perfect, although they often aren't. By now, the original 52-page script has been reduced to 50 pages, and almost every page has had at least one alteration.

For instance, on Monday when Blanche accidentally spat Coca-Cola on a Soviet Embassy official, he responded by saying, "No apology necessary." Now he says, "No need to apologize. In Moscow, we have to stand in line four hours to get this."

Late Friday afternoon, the audience files into Renmar Studios to watch the first taping. The writers are standing by, just in case a last-minute problem occurs. During the 90-minute dinner break, while a new audience is arriving, the cast, writers and producers calmly discuss how to improve the second taping. A few lines are cut, the taping is completed, and it’s on to the next week.

Source: Mills, Nancy. 1987. 'Golden Girls' Polishes Its Scripts: Daily Revisions Geared to Sharpen Story and Hone Those Laugh Lines. Los Angeles Times, October 30, https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-1987-10-30-ca-11702-story.html

[ao3bronte]

Butter

I have been utterly enchanted by the spoiler images Zag keeps posting of Chat Noir and Ladybug's rooftop dinner date in the movie and I simply had to write about it for Christmas because it's so darn romantic! I've also been honing my food writing skills, which I hope you'll enjoy as well! This story is part of the @mlsecretsanta​ exchange and I was paired up with a Tumblr user named @yuki-sukinomoto​. I hope they like what I have put together for them. Also on AO3.

Like many people around the world, Adrien has a special place in his heart for Disney films. He and his mother had enjoyed many a fireworks celebration at Disneyland Paris, not to mention the mini-vacation he'd taken with her at Disneyland Hong Kong while they were there for Father's flagship store opening. Even now, he regularly enjoys flipping through the archives of Disney+ just as frequently as he does his other streaming services; there's nothing like a rewatch of a favourite film to get his mind off the bigger shadows lording over his life.

He's halfway through his last year of lycée when it occurs to him that he hasn't watched Ratatouille in ages. There are only a few animated films set in Paris that he can think of off the top of his head and he's always enjoyed the romance of Un Monstre en Paris more than the trials and tribulations of a rodent gourmand. It warrants a look though, especially since he's got nothing better to do; the glacial December rain is no place for Paris’ favourite cat.

“Anyone can cook, but only the fearless can be great.”

Something about that statement resonates within him, like the missing piece of a puzzle finally slotting into place. Adrien gawks at the screen, then down at his fingers.

“I’m pretty much fearless,” he murmurs, the cogs of his brain suddenly propelling into motion. “And if that Linguini guy can learn how to cook, then so can I!”

~

That evening, Sous Chef Maurice humours the youngest Agreste when he strides into the kitchen and affably demands to be taught how to cook. The spritely blond’s attitude has always been world’s away from his boss’ brusque, frigid demeanor and Sous Chef Maurice welcomes the change of pace, if only to lighten up the evening as the snowy skies grow dim.

“So, where do we start?”

“With the basics, of course,” Sous Chef Maurice responds, tapping away at the mounted iPad on the wall nearest to the pass. “Watch this video and familiarize yourself with the classical knife cuts of French cuisine. Once you’re finished, bring three large carrots and two bulbs of fennel from the garde manger to my station to practice.”

“Yes, Chef!”

And so, with all of the flagrant gusto of an Agreste on a mission, Adrien watches the videos and does exactly as he’s asked. Wielding the chef’s knife is a bit of a task but he manages not to amputate any fingers, much to Sous Chef Maurice’s relief. All in all, he ends up with a fairly decently sliced pile of carrot batonnets on one side of the cutting board and half a julienned fennel bulb on the other.

“That’s all? There are several other techniques you’ll be required to master if you want to learn to cook.” Sous Chef Maurice frowns beneath his wiry moustache. “Cut a medium and small dice from the batonnets. And as for the fennel, slice the rest of the bulb into wedges. Monsieur Agreste requested it braised this evening.”

Adrien’s tongue wriggles out between his lips as he hacks the carrots into even smaller pieces. “What’s braising?”

“A cooking technique,” Sous Chef Maurice replies, “One you’re about to learn in a moment. Now chop.”

“Yes, Chef!” Adrien flashes his million watt smile before diving head first back into the task that was given and quickly catches on. He’s no Guy Savoy, of course, but he manages well enough with the careful precision of a boy who secretly destroys things for a living. Once he’s finished, he watches as Sous Chef Maurice crafts the rest of the evening’s dinner beneath the copper hooded hearth, stirring and seasoning every dish. Spreads of freshly baked bread and Saucisson Sec jostle for space on the platter, nestled in among wedges of Crottin de Chavignol and small jars of stone fruit jam that remind him of summer. On the burner, Sous Chef Maurice reverently sautées tomatoes in a magnificent French oven until buttery tender.

“Why, exactly, have you decided to learn how to cook all of the sudden?” Sous Chef Maurice asks as he sprinkles a fragrant chiffonade of basil over the tomatoes. “Don’t you have enough on your plate, so to speak?”

Adrien shrugs. “I was watching a movie and realized that I don’t know how to cook anything.”

“And now you suddenly have the inspiration to become a chef?”

“Not exactly,” Adrien says, passing him the pepper mill. “Cooking is...daring. You have to be fearless to be a great chef!”

Sous Chef Maurice begins to chuckle. “You’re doing this to impress a girl, aren’t you?”

“I…” Adrien’s jaw practically drops to the floor. Why didn’t he think of that sooner? Ladybug wouldn’t be able to resist his Chat Noir charm if he could pull off the ultimate homemade dinner for Christmas! She’s always appreciated his do-it-yourself gifts over the ones he’s bought her over the years...he could ask about her favourite foods and create a holiday masterpiece for her to devour as the perfect Christmas present, just for the two of them! “Yes! How did you know?”

“I was a young man once too,” Sous Chef Maurice points out, shaking his head with mirth as he turns his attention back to the hearth. He pulls the olive oil braised fennel from the oven and slathers a huge spoonful of buttery fava bean purée onto the serving platter, smearing it across the china like a streak of bright green paint. Then, he artfully stacks the braised vegetables over the purée and drizzles the juices from the pan in haphazard circles from a height, dressing the dish like Father would a high fashion model. Adrien can hardly believe his eyes as Sous Chef Maurice sprinkles Maldon sea salt on top and places it onto the pass, ready for service.

“Like modelling, cooking is an art. It requires patience and mastery,” Sous Chef Maurice explains, turning towards the youngest Agreste with a smile playing at the edge of his lips. “If you’re serious about learning how to cook, I suggest you start studying the books of Paul Bocuse.”

“Do you think Father will let me?”

“I heard you discussing your latest school project with Mme Sancoeur just yesterday in the dining room. Perhaps you can change the focus of your study to better suit your interests.”

The lightbulb above Adrien’s head suddenly flickers to life. “Yes! Thank you so much! You’re the best!”

As Adrien races from the kitchen to the dining room in a frenzy of inspiration, Sous Chef Maurice simply wipes down his knives and smiles.

~

Cooking, as it turns out, is easier said than done.

The first task on Adrien’s check list is to find out what Ladybug likes to eat. She doesn’t really know what to make of Chat Noir’s sudden barrage of questions about what her favourite meat is or what types of soft cheese she likes to spread on freshly baked baguettes. But she’s spent years by his side at this point — his chaotic behaviour always seems to stem from some haywire plan to prove his worth — so she goes along with it as he goes along with her crazy ideas; trust has always been integral between the two of them.

The second task is to watch as many cooking TV shows as he possibly can. Adrien stays up into the wee hours of the morning bingeing Masterchef and soaking up every detail he can memorize. Always salt the boiling water before cooking pasta; add acid to bring out the flavours of your food; season, season, season! Instant coffee powder accentuates the subtleties of chocolate; toast the spices to release their full potential! Adrien writes it all down and figures that it can’t be that hard to break down a whole chicken for roasting — the judges make it look so easy!

“Merde! I am so sick of this stupid—Plagg, transforme-moi!” Adrien growls that very afternoon after mistaking the back of the chicken for the breast...again, “Cataclysme!”

(Sous Chef Maurice finds the smoking pile of chicken soot in the bin later that evening and doesn’t have the heart to ask.)

~

There are two weeks left until the beginning of his school’s winter holidays and Adrien is bound and determined to host an evening that Ladybug will never forget. Anaïs gives Chat Noir permission to use one of the transparent bubble tents on his restaurant’s rooftop patio as a favour after de-akumatizing him back in September; Le Cochon Joufflu gives him a live edge cheese board to use in exchange for getting his beloved kitten down from the chestnut tree hanging over the patio. Ladybug mentions that she loves strawberries the most out of all of the fruits and Chat makes sure to stop by the Dupain Cheng Boulangerie Patisserie to order a Frasier for pickup in two weeks time.

It’s all coming together...kind of.

The cooking bit is still an issue. Adrien has figured out the difference between the top and the bottom of the chicken (after an embarrassingly long time, though he’ll never admit it). Yesterday, Sous Chef Maurice taught him how to put the mirepoix on the bottom of the roasting pan first, then settle the chicken on top.

Seems simple, right?

Except how much of what goes into the mirepoix? What’s the ratio again? Adrien pinches the bridge of his nose and tries desperately to remember on his own, especially after Sous Chef Maurice nagged him for looking things up too often on the iPad. Cooking is supposed to be about instincts and...well, Adrien’s aren’t proving to be very reliable. Is it two parts celery to one part onion and carrot? Or does he have it all mixed up again?

“I have a secret to share with you,” Sous Chef Maurice says, standing alongside Adrien as they peel potatoes together. “It’s the secret ingredient to make a woman fall in love with you, even when you’ve made a mistake...what do you think it is?”

“Is it...love? Like, when you’re cooking from your heart?”

“That helps, certainly, but it’s not what I had in mind,” Sous Chef Maurice reaches into the wash basket for another potato, “Let me give you a hint. It’s as quintessentially French as it gets.”

“...camembert?”

“I—” Sous Chef Maurice takes a weary breath. “...no. It’s butter. All French cooking tastes better with butter. In fact, no meal is complete without it.”

“Don’t tell Father that,” Adrien says with a grimace.

“What Monsieur Agreste doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Sous Chef Maurice raises his brows conspiratorially. “Besides, it makes a world of difference. It’s delicious. It’s decadent. It’s a chef’s little secret. And if you want this girl to fall in love with you, there’s no better way than with butter.”

“Really? She’ll fall in love with me right away?”

“I promise. It’s one hundred percent guaranteed.” Sous Chef Maurice plops a package of Charentes-style butter in front of him. “No woman can resist a homemade meal made with French butter. Just a little makes a world of difference to the richness of the taste and tonight, I’m going to show you how.”

To Adrien’s unlimited delight, Sous Chef Maurice teaches him how to make the creamiest, silkiest mashed potatoes to ever grace his palette. His knees weaken at the thought of Ladybug sliding a spoonful of his mashed potatoes past her lips...he can imagine the way she’d groan just like he had when Adrien had finished whipping what felt like an entire block of butter into the spuds. His body burns and tingles with the notion of her enjoying his creations and he doubles down in the kitchen, taking it upon himself to slather the skin of his chicken with an obscene amount of butter before popping it into the oven and hoping for the best.

It comes out perfectly.

~

“Happy early Christmas!” Chat Noir delights, opening the little door to their plastic bubble tent for Ladybug. “I know we promised to exchange gifts on the 23rd but I...I just really couldn’t wait any longer!”

“Why am I not surprised, Kitty?” Ladybug rolls her eyes and bops him on the nose. “Did Anaïs give you permission to use this?”

“Of course he did,” Chat responds, pressing his hand to his chest in mock-insult, “I am a cat of honour! I don’t just go stealing things without permission.”

“Mmhmm,” Ladybug teases him, tapping his bell as she climbs inside. The supporting structure of the transparent dome is decked out with sparkling fairy lights, adding a warm ambiance to the table and chairs set for two. “Is that a bottle of wine?”

“Yup,” Chat confirms, latching the door behind him and scurrying around her to pop the cork. “It’s a 2001 vintage. I picked it myself.”

“Fancy!” Ladybug’s smirking tone falters for a moment as she takes in the elaborate spread. “Did you...is Anaïs picking up the tab for dinner too?”

“Not exactly.” Chat pulls Ladybug’s chair out from the lip of the table and gently drapes her serviette across her lap once she sits down. “I made you dinner tonight.”

“Uh oh.” Ladybug starts laughing. “Is there an ambulance parked outside?”

Chat sticks out his tongue and sits down across from her. “I took lessons! And I had a little help from a professional.”

“So it’s safe to eat? Should I call the hospital just in case?”

“Very funny. And no. Everything here is edible. I know because I tried it.”

“Just because it’s good enough for an alley cat—”

“—hey now, I have a very sophisticat-ed palette!”

Ladybug’s eyes sparkle with mirth. “Come on then, Kitty. Show me what you’ve got.”

“As you wish, M’Lady.” Chat bows his head and pulls the aluminium foil off of the dishes with a flourish. “May I present to you your dinner this evening. It’s roasted chicken with mashed potatoes and a frisée and endive salad.”

Ladybug’s eyes bug out of her skull, much to Chat Noir’s delight. “You made all this yourself?”

“I did!”

“And you made this...for me?”

Chat practically preens with delight. “It’s all homemade. I’ve been practicing for weeks.”

“Wow…” Ladybug trails off, her stare bouncing from dish to dish. “I’m...I’m speechless, Chat. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” Chat whoops, jumping up to serve her. He carefully places a chicken thigh onto her plate and scoops a dollop of mashed potatoes beside it. “These are the best mashed potatoes you’ll ever eat, by the way.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Ladybug responds, her voice wavering a little as he spoons out the salad. “They smell good though.”

“That’s because they are good!”

“...I’m still skeptical.”

“Buuuug!”

The conversation between them flows like the wine from their bottle, leaving them both a little lightheaded and enchanted by it all. It’s warm in their garden igloo, an Eden of good company and beating hearts cocooned against the December chill and the gently falling snow cascading from the heavens. Chat wishes he could spend the rest of his life like this, laughing and joking with Ladybug over a homemade Christmas dinner made just for the two of them.

“Well?” Chat asks as Ladybug takes a dainty bite of his roast chicken. “What do you think?”

“It’s...it’s actually pretty good.” Ladybug chews thoughtfully, her cheeks flushing pink.

“Yes!” Chat narrowly keeps himself from pumping his fists into the sky. “Try the potatoes!”

Ladybug leans forwards to dip the tines of her fork into the exquisitely satiny spuds and Chat holds his breath as she brings them to her lips.

This is the moment she’s going to fall in love with him!

thump thump

Tentatively, Ladybug opens her mouth.

thump thump

She slips the fork between her lips.

thump thump

Chat can hardly breathe as her eyes flutter closed.

“Oh wow.” Ladybug moans, driving her fork into the potatoes and shoveling an enormous helping into her mouth. “Thish ish so goo!”

Chat truly can’t help himself and starts giggling with glee, every nerve ending in his body firing as his heart nearly bursts in his chest. “I knew you’d like them!”

“I love them,” she gushes around another mouthful. “You have to teach me how to make them.”

“Or I could just make them for you again.” Chat grips the edge of the table so firmly that the wood creaks beneath his fingers. “You know, next time I make you dinner.”

To his absolute elated delight, she doesn’t even sass him. “Deal. But bring your own bowl next time, this one’s all mine.”

Their Christmas dinner lasts long into the evening, their teasing and laughing comments as breezy as the winds coming off the Seine. It’s safe here, just the two of them together, tucked away from prying eyes and miscreant moths looking for trouble. Through it all, she talks and tastes and laughs like an indefatigable hybrid of Brigitte Bardot and Aphrodite. There’s no doubt she looks at him differently now, the stars reflecting in her eyes no longer just the reflection of the fairy lights in their snowy igloo. His heart beats a thousand times a minute as she snags him by the wrist while he tidies their empty plates, stopping him dead in his tracks.

“Dinner was amazing,” Ladybug says, still seated beneath him. “I can’t believe you made this all yourself.”

“Anything for you, M’Lady,” Chat breathes, his voice shaking from the heat of her touch.

“I’m not sure how to thank you.” Her eyes trail away for a moment and glance outside at the falling snow pooling around their dome. “Actually, I think I do.”

With a small, tentative smile, Ladybug tugs him down to her level and ruffles his hair when his jaw drops open at the sudden proximity. He’s helpless when she gets into his space and she knows it; it’s why she’s always got the upper hand whenever they’re together. He turns to jelly as her expression turns mischievous — he knows she’s up to something, but what? What could she possibly be thinking? Chat glances down at her lips before catching himself, dragging his eyes back up to meet hers once again.

“L-Ladybug?” Chat’s voice cracks, pitching up into the stratosphere. She giggles and he feels like dying and flying all at once.

“I think you deserve a well done kiss after all that hard work.” Ladybug tips her head to the side and grins as he begins to stammer and splutter all over himself. “But where? On your cheek? On your forehead?”

Gently, she wraps her fingers around his bell and steadies him, fully aware that he might just come crashing down on top of her. She hovers a hair’s breadth away and hesitates only for a moment before pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

It only lasts for a fleeting moment but Chat swears the world grinds to a halt on its axis, stealing the ground from his feet and the air in his lungs. She kissed him. She kissed him! She honest-to-goodness kissed him — by her own volition! On the lips! She kissed him on the lips with her mouth! Her lips touched his lips! They kissed! They kissed!! They kissed!!!

“Not that your reaction isn’t sweet enough,” Ladybug teases, bopping him on the nose to shake him out of his reverie, “But what’s for dessert, Kitty Cat?”

Chat Noir may be Paris’ number one cat hero, but tonight he’s nothing but a puddle in the wake of her smile. “One Christmas Frasier, coming right up!”

[danwhobrowses]

Marvel's Eternals - Impulse Thoughts

Okay so I watched Marvel's Eternals yesterday and it was...fine? It looked nice and had good ideas in it but there were a lot of impulse thoughts I had, so here goes

Spoilers for the Movie below

Okay for starters why are films now pushing 3 hours? Dune and Eternals were like the same length, it's tiring

Jon Snow was of course greatly wasted but he is basically a setup character so I let it slide

Child why are you hiding under a heavy fossil fixed to a wall during an earthquake!? And nobody saw that turn into dust?

The movie at the least did well in misdirecting on who the traitor was, even if it was beta-Homelander Robb Stark, first I thought it was Ajak, then Druig, then Thena.

The sex scene was very uncomfortable, as discreet as it was it just felt super unnecessary

I didn't like Kingo at all, ol Finger Guns here never actually seemed invested in the plot, more how he could profit out of it. Karun was great though, I want him to buddy up with Slattery or someone like that, he's wasted with Kingo.

I don't think I understood the subversion with Gilgamesh, so he makes pies now what's bad about that? He still kicked ass and had a lot of humour, I was sad he got killed off. When he did though that main deviant dude almost became a decent Villain, although his motivations were weak as was his defeat: gotta give Jolie that paycheck moment.

So if these Eternals are androids, does that mean Thanos is an android? Since his parents were Eternals (his mother is called a Titan but she too descended from an Eternal). Also if Celestials hatch from planets what's Ego's deal? Is Galactus around too because surely him eating worlds would supply energy for these Celestial Seeds?

If the Celestials could drag the Eternals off-planet like they did at the end of the movie why couldn't they do that with the Deviants? In fact why did the Deviant tracker miss the ones encased in ice? And why not ask Thor and Odin for help given how the Eternals knew them.

Also, main problem with this whole dire circumstance: why couldn't the Eternals just shrink the Celestial when it hatched? Grab some Pym Particles like Maw did in Endgame, or mind control the Celestial to shrink to size, it'd have the power to do so. Could've resolved both issues rather than effectively aborting Tiamut.

As much as it seems like there's a love quadrangle between Ikaris, Sersi, Sprite and Dane, I kinda think Kingo might also be in love with Ikaris too. It'd explain his blind and near-annoying devotion to him, plus he was gonna play him in a Bollywood film - which looked to have reduced Sersi's role to a simple human - and seemed the only one aware of Sprite's feelings for Ikaris too.

What was with those DC Comics references too? Is Disney buying that as well or do Marvel just not care anymore?

Ikaris needed to learn about the double tap, or watch Invincible and see how you really handle a speedster, tech genius and warrior goddess. Why not aim for Druig first anyway? Fighting Thena just felt like padding.

Girl you got stabbed, turning the knife into water doesn't stop you from bleeding out.

Climax was anticlimactic, and Ikaris just decided to peace out of existence as if the Celestial can't just remake another one of him.

The cliffhanger I guess is going to lead into this Phase 4 big bad but it was a bit, meh?

This doesn't really answer who is going to lead the next line of Avengers either like it was marketed to

Will have to reserve judgement for Harry Styles as Eros, if it actually leads to anything. Apparently the voice talking to Dane was Blade, which made me wonder why didn't they show him?

Film wasn't terrible it was just...weak, they somehow managed to achieve trying to add too much and yet having a bunch of unnecessary scenes which overstayed their welcome, you could've probably cut the film's runtime in half and gotten the same story