#yeah she’d occasionally say stuff but she clearly always was to respect that
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I’m sorry but the way Lucanis romance is written and how he and neve still seem to flirt nonstop it almost seems like they’re having an affair it’s WILD
#dragon age veilguard#usually when an npc is in a romance with you that stuff stops and dialogue alters#like Isabela was never this flirty after you end up with fenris#yeah she’d occasionally say stuff but she clearly always was to respect that#this is a huge oversight or purposeful#and I dunno which is worse#also why does he bang neve nonstop but you don’t even get a kiss????#dragon age veilgaurd spoilers
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A/N: I know we had our debate about sub vs dom Matty. Not sure what this is but enjoy and let me know what you think!
Summary: Matty being needy.
Warnings: smut.
——
Matty stood in the doorway, his laptop under his arm, watching as she sat in the office chair and frowned at her screen. He didn’t want to interrupt her, but he also couldn’t shake off this clingy feeling. He sighed loudly to alert her to his presents.
Her head shot up. “Oh, hey, you…” her face softened as she saw him.
Matty slouched. “Umm…are you….workin’?” He spoke hesitantly.
“Mhm. Why, what’s up?”
She could see the gears turning in his head, he was clearly holding something back. Trying not to say something. “Matty, everything alright?” she urged him on.
“Oh, yeah, yeah. ‘M fine. Just- umm…” he looked away, silently embarrassed. “Could I- join you?”
The home office was definitely a shared space. But it was mostly Matty’s by convenience. Her job didn’t require nearly as much equipment, or even remote work. So, he was the one to use it most of the time. She only utilized the desk space whenever she had to bring work home with her. Which wasn’t very often. But this month has been a busy one at her job. With Matty being on a short break before the next leg of tour, she’d tried to spend as much time with him as possible, occasionally falling behind on work and needing to make it up. The disruption to her routine aside, this was the hardest part about their relationship. The distance and time apart always made he feel guilty. Neither of them really talked about it much because there was nothing they could do to change it. But the pressure she always put on herself to make every moment in his company count, and the inevitable heartbreak that lingered around after he’d leave to go on the road again, none of it got any easier no matter how much they’d done it before.
She was certain Matty felt it too. He always got extra needy and soft. Especially the last few days leading up to his impending leave. It was like a timer was always on. Ticking away. Waiting to call an end on their moments together. He’d hardly left her side the last couple of days. So, it wasn’t exactly a surprise that he was hovering around now.
“Of course!” She moved her notepad and papers around to make room for him. “Grab a chair.”
“I-I promise I won’t disturb you. Mostly just admin stuff and emails for the label. And I’ve got my trusty headphones, if I need to play anything…” he wanted her to know he respected her work and her space.
“Matty. You’re not disturbing me. C’mon!” She smiled at him reassuringly as he scrambled to get his stuff together and sit by her side. He made a mental note to buy a bigger desk the next time he’s home because this was definitely getting snug.
They passed an excruciating hour working on their respective devices. Matty had exercised all of his self-restraint to keep from just grabbing her and kissing her all over, reminding himself that they both had work to be done. And even if he could put off his own responsibilities, it’d be unfair to expect her to do the same. What he couldn’t control, however, was his head going all foggy and mushy as he sat next to her. Their elbows occasionally brushing, the scent of her perfume, the cute look she gets when she’s focusing really hard on something, the way her hair fell in her eyes as she leaned forward. Gosh, he’d much rather be sharing a bed right now.
She’d definitely felt him sighing, staring longingly. Sneaking glances at her when he thought she wasn’t looking. It wasn’t easy for her either. Writing delicately worded emails was definitely not what she wanted to spend this evening doing. Not with Matty right there. Looking the way he does with his comfy clothes on and his untamed curls. And his eyes. God, his eyes.
He leaned back into his chair, shutting his laptop and fiddling with the cuff of his sleeve anxiously.
“You done?” She turned to look at him.
He nodded. “You?”
“Almost. Got a couple more memos finish.”
He said nothing, simply looking down at his hands as he tugged on his hoodie and tried to ignore the butterflies in his stomach.
“Wanna get started on dinner?” She suggested.
He simply shrugged, keeping his gaze down.
“What?” She chuckled, confused by his current state.
“Not tha’ hungry. Plus- umm- I’d rather be here. With you.” He couldn’t help the red flush in his cheeks, but at least he held back from letting her know about the warm and tingly feeling all over his body. Where he wants her hands. Her lips. Her whole body pressed against his.
“I think….” She checked the time from the corner of her screen “one more hour?”
He wanted to say an hour was too long. He’s bursting at the seams. He needs her right now. He thinks he’ll die if he doesn’t have her full attention right away. “Sure. That’s okay. Take your time. “ was what he mumbled instead.
***
Matty tried to distract himself. He went on his phone for a bit, scrolling through social media, busying himself with mindless activities to keep from nagging her. But he couldn’t help checking the time every few minutes, counting down the seconds, and in spite himself, he stole a look every once in a while, studying her face for any signs of relief. Giggling shyly when she’d catch him looking at her.
“Alright!” She announced triumphantly. “All done.”
The words were hardly out of her mouth before Matty jumped into her lap, burying her face into her neck and whining.
She chuckled at his impatience, sinking back into her chair and running her fingers through his hair. “What’s gotten into you today?” Her voice tickled his ear.
“Jus’ miss you.”
“Miss me? We’ve literally been together all day.”
He shrugged and kissed her neck. “Still miss you.”
“Someone’s feelin’ needy…”
He nodded enthusiastically, his curls tickling her skin as he moved.
“Want me to take care of you, baby?”
“Mhm. Please?”
She took a moment to think about it, deciding that they’d probably have no time for cooking, she reached around his body to grab her phone from the desk. “Alright, just let me order dinner first.”
***
“M-more, please. Please, baby.” Matty whimpered, his face buried into the mattress. He was too far gone to even know what he was asking for. All he knew is that he wanted more. More of her touch, more of her voice, more pleasure, more pain…more everything.
She chuckled, shaking her head and whispering “greedy” under her breath. Not that he’d heard her.
“N-no, no, wait- please” he whined, pulling his head up to look at her.
“What is it? Did I hurt-“
“No, I’m okay. I- just, umm. Don’t wanna cum too quickly.” He confessed.
“But you said-“
“Wanna keep going. Wanna be with you.”
She frowned and he felt a slight panic at her confusion. Was he being too much? Is he bugging her? Was she over it by now? Did she just wanna be done?
She pulled away for a moment, assessing his sweaty, naked body. They’d been at it for a while. She’d reduce him to a blubbering mess. She could’ve sworn he would’ve wanted to stop soon. “You are with me, babe. You sure you’re alright?”
Matty blushed, feeling silly for being so demanding. But he couldn’t help it. He was intoxicated by her. Completely insatiable. He wasn’t thinking. He nodded. “Promise, I’m fine.”
She moved his supple body so he was laying flat on his back, with her own body hovering on top of him. She pushed the sweaty hair off his eyes, leaning in to kiss him, and laughing when she felt his cock twitch between them. He was definitely ready.
“You’re gonna cum for me now, alright?” Her hand wrapped around him, and he hissed, the sensation intense on his sensitive body.
“You- want me to?”
“Yup”
“O-okay…”
She didn’t have to wait at all, a few motions and he was already dripping.
“Cum for me, baby.”
Matty let go instantly, his hips bucking up, his head straining against the mattress as he trembled at her touch and whispered a string of curses and incoherent pleas. “F-fuck, that- feels so good.”
She peppered gentle kisses all over his face and neck, rubbing his body as he caught his breath.
“Shall we wash up and get ready for dinner?”
Matty’s hand reached for her arm when she went to get up. “Wait! Cuddles first.”
#matty healy fanfic#matty healy fanfiction#matty healy x reader#matty healy x y/n#matty healy x you#matty healy fluff#matty healy smut#matty healy fic#matty healy oneshot
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oracle hii ! can i ask how other characters around ramtio think abt their relationship ? like if they lovingly tease, or if one of their friends is protective towards them, etc ? (i hope this makes sense !!) (@dmclr)
HIIII it does make sense!!! this is a very nice question to get because it actually makes me Think about this since i have been meaning to develop this stuff but… Yeah. it’s a little all over the place and i might change stuff later but i hope you don’t mind some of it is a little off question topic bc i got carried away
aventurine, before he eventually joins their relationship later down the line, mostly just teases ratio for his relationship with rem. he is silently very jealous since he has a major thing for ratio that they had to stop once rem came back into his life but don’t worry they resolve things and all end up happy later! but before this, yes, very teasing about how much ratio clearly loves rem, how often he checks his phone for an update from him, etc
screwllum is the only member of the genius society that rem actually likes (he has a rather big hatred for the genius society as a whole). ratio often works with him on projects (divergent universe), so rem has met screwllum a few times for this purpose. screwllum has worked with ratio for quite a long time now, so observing the love the two of them have for each other is something he comments on occasionally, how he can appreciate such pure love between organic life forms
topaz is a tease but fiercely protective over them if anyone else has anything negative to say. she’s much more like this when aventurine joins their relationship, because she and ratio aren’t particularly close and rem is very wary of her because she’s part of the ipc, but they end up getting along well and she’s mostly just happy they’re happy.
not friends, but rem’s parents are their biggest cheerleaders genuinely. ever since rem first brought ratio home for a study session as teens, they knew something was different about him. they see so much of their younger selves in their relationship so they’re literally their biggest supporters. they were the ones to pitch in and pay half of their house as a wedding gift! ratio is genuinely like a son to them even beyond being their son-in-law.
similarly, rem’s younger siblings all are protective of their relationship to varying degrees. theron & piers are the type to be like “i can tease them but that’s because they’re my family. i get to fake disgust when they’re being sappy when they come home for the holidays.” seth is also a major cheerleader and they always tell their friends at school that they have the coolest big brother in law LOL. they’re such a sweetheart
honestly though a lot of characters i can imagine rem is on good terms with just wouldn’t care about them being together JSNFJFNFK. especially sparkle. she’d just tease the fuck out of them mostly. herta and rem hate each other but ratio is reluctantly acquainted with her, so she doesn’t have much Nice to say bc of this. ruan mei does not care in the slightest. the trailblazers would lovingly tease rem but at the end of the day they both have a lot of respect for ratio so they’re also quite protective. that’s all i can think of atm!
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girl next door [one] // wanda maximoff
summary: somebody new moves into the flat next to yours and you feel the need to introduce yourself, only to learn she's not very talkative
warning/s: none i don’t think??
author’s note: first part to a three-parter i’ve been working on, hope you like it! (also the masterlist needs to be updated so soz about that)
part two | part three | part four | part five |masterlist | wattpad
Shopping bags in hand, I returned from the supermarket to my flat when I saw the usually-vacant flat next door to me in use. The front door was slightly ajar, with several moving boxes in front and the sound of someone moving about inside. Huh, so someone moved in. It had been vacant for half a year now – it was nice to finally have a neighbour!
I headed to my own flat, my nosey self taking a peek through the door to see if I could have an idea of who was moving in, but I couldn't see anyone, so I continued to go into my own place and unpack my groceries. After doing so, I decided to head next door and introduce myself, excited to meet someone new in the building.
The boxes from earlier were gone now, probably all inside, and the door was shut like I usually saw it. I sucked up a breath before knocking on, a friendly smile reserved on my lips for whoever would open.
It took a moment, but the door finally opened and revealed a brunette with bright hazel eyes and a mildly confused expression on her face. She seemed strangely familiar, but I couldn't quite pinpoint it.
"Hey! I just wanted to come 'round and introduce myself. I'm your new neighbour." I pointed to my door next to hers and added, "I saw you moving in earlier. I'm Y/N."
She pursed her lips, eyes glancing around subtly before looking me up and down. "Er, hi... I'm Wanda."
I detected a slight accent in her voice with the few words she spoke and became immediately intrigued since everyone in this building was usually the same old American. I didn't ask about it though, as I didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable at our first meeting.
"Nice to meet you, Wanda," I returned with a smile. "I've been living here for a year now, so if you need a hand with anything or need pointers for where to get the best Chinese, I'm your girl." I paused, expecting some sort of reaction, but she didn't move a muscle. Swallowing awkwardly, I added, "Of course, if you just need a hand with unpacking or anything, I'm also happy to help."
She still didn't reply, and in fact, she looked a bit peeved with my presence which made me realise that maybe she just wasn't a talkative person.
I cleared my throat nervously before finishing with, "I'll, er, I'll leave you to it. Sorry to disturb you..."
I chewed on my lower lip as I avoided her piercing gaze and went back to my own place. Not everybody was interested in befriending their neighbours, I got that, so I respected her decision and decided not to bother her in the future. It didn't make me feel any less embarrassed at my intrusiveness though.
I didn't think much of it until the following morning when I was watering my plants out on the fire escape. My fire escape was joined with the neighbour's – the neighbour that usually didn't exist but was now Wanda. The brunette was stood there, drinking some coffee and staring out into the distance. I debated wishing her a good morning, but decided against it as I recalled her being quite introverted. Instead, I awkwardly watered the several plant pots I had, opting to stay quiet so I could be in and out without bugging her once more.
To my surprise, she spoke up and it took me a second to realise she was talking to me.
I held my watering jug upright as I glanced in her direction. She was already staring at me, deep set eyes darkened over the rim of her coffee cup.
"What's that?" I asked, not sure what she’d said.
She cleared her throat, eyes flickering to the plants to distract from her discomfort. "I'm sorry. For being strange yesterday. You were being warm and welcoming and I just..." She paused, releasing a shaky breath. "I've had a bad past few weeks. I didn't mean to take it out on you."
I definitely wasn't expecting that, then realised how many bad days I'd had and taken out on random strangers. I didn't blame her and instead felt bad for her – moving into a new place was supposed to be exciting, so I couldn't imagine what had ruined her past few weeks.
"Well, apology accepted," I said with a small smile. "And I hope things begin to look up for you soon, Wanda."
Her lips twitched into the tiniest of smiles and I noticed how different she looked when she wasn't down in the dumps – she was quite beautiful.
I finished watering my plants before giving her a final smile. I was about to head back inside, but I hung back curiously.
"Er, Wanda, if you don't mind me saying," I started randomly, "you seem familiar. We haven't met before, have we?"
She raised her eyebrows with surprise. "Oh, really? You don't kn–?" She tilted her head to the side, as if expecting me to understand, but I wasn't sure what she wanted. "I... I guess I just have one of those faces."
I studied her curiously, trying to figure it out. But nothing was coming to mind, so I hummed in agreement. "Yeah, I guess so... anyway, enjoy the rest of your day."
She nodded. "You, too."
–
The next time I saw Wanda was probably a week later, just after I collected my mail from the mailroom. I'd received one of those random free trial boxes for a subscription I must have accidentally signed up for – a box of different flavoured trail mixes – and felt bad throwing it out since it was still food at the end of the day. There were nuts in the mixes, which I was allergic to, so I decided to knock on Wanda's door and see if she wanted them.
I hadn't spoken to her since she moved in, except for the occasional good morning on the fire escape if we saw one another, so I hoped she was a little happier compared to when we last spoke properly. Maybe whatever had bothered her was resolved now.
When she opened the door, she seemed surprised that it was me, probably not expecting me to stop by again after last time.
I offered her a smile. "Hey, Wanda. I, er, hope this isn't a bad time."
She shook her head after recovering from her surprise. "No, no, it's not. Is everything okay?" She paused, glancing around, unprepared. "Do you want to come in or...?"
"It's okay, I'm good here," I said when I saw how uncomfortable she seemed. I wasn't just about to invite myself into her flat because she felt she needed to ask. "I just stopped by because, well, do you want this?" I handed her the box, adding, "I got a free sample in the post. Didn't wanna throw it out because it's food, y'know? And I'm allergic to nuts, so my throat will probably puff up and stop me from breathing which isn't good."
I laughed awkwardly, internally cringing at how I spoke utter nonsense because of her lack of her words and my stupid need to fill the silence.
"Unless you're allergic to nuts too," I added as an afterthought, when she glanced at the packaging with no readable expression. "In which case I should probably throw them right away and this whole thing is stupid."
After what felt like an eternity of me not shutting up, she lifted her gaze, eyes softening with a hint of amusement.
"I'm not allergic to nuts," she assured me, before nodding. "Thank you, Y/N."
I relaxed, not even realising how tense my shoulders were. "That's– that's good... so, how are you settling into your new place? All good, I hope?"
Subconsciously, I chewed on the inside of my mouth, wondering why I was so eager to speak to somebody who clearly didn't want to speak to me. She was so quiet, not a woman of many words, yet I couldn't help but feel responsible for welcoming her.
"It's nice," she said, glancing around thoughtfully. "It's quiet. Private."
I nodded in agreement, eyes falling to her doorframe as I said, "Yeah, that's true. Nothing eventful ever happens here."
She hummed, acknowledging my words. I figured the conversation had ran dry and I'd stayed a little too long, so I tried to think of a way to end it without her feeling forced to. Instead, she spoke up next.
"I like your garden."
I furrowed my brows, wondering what she was talking about.
"The flowers on our fire escape," she clarified, small smile tugging at her lips. "They're beautiful."
I stifled a laugh. "I mean, thanks, but it's barely a garden. I've always wanted a proper space to grow stuff, but obviously I can't have that here."
"Well, you've done a great job with what you have," she complimented, and I was sure it was the most she'd spoken to me since moving in. I suddenly didn't feel like she disliked my presence as much as I once thought.
"Thank you," I said gratefully. "Maybe you can start your own alongside mine some day."
"Maybe," she shrugged, "but probably not. Everything I touch–" She paused, life leaving her eyes momentarily, and head looking down to her shoes. "Everything I touch dies."
I pressed my lips together, not expecting the awkward silence to follow. Wanda seemed stuck in thought and I wasn't sure how I'd managed to bring the conversation down so suddenly, especially with the talk of flowers.
"The lovely thing about flowers," I began, earning her attention and hoping to brighten the mood, "is that they only require a little love, some sunlight and some water to keep going. They tend to take care of themselves. Perfect for even the blackest of thumbs."
She let out a breath through her nose, a half chuckle and half acknowledgment of my comment. It was the closest I'd get to a response, so I ran a hand through my hair and took a step back.
"Anyway, I'm glad you're settling in okay," I concluded with a kind smile. "Again, if you need anything, I'm just next door."
"Thank you," she said, returning the smile, and her eyes sparkled as she did. "Have a good afternoon, Y/N."
"You, too, Wanda."
–
The apartment complex I lived in rarely had people entering that I didn't recognise – I'd lived here long enough to know who was who, even the postwoman and maintenance guy. So, when I was leaving for the supermarket and saw a suspicious-looking man walking down the hall, eyes checking every door, I grew curious.
"You okay there, sir?" I called out to him after locking my front door.
He looked my way, readjusting his cap lower on his head, casting a shadow over his face. "Er, yeah..." He hesitated, glancing at his phone before looking to me again. "Actually, maybe you can help me. I'm looking for Wanda Maximoff's apartment. Do you know which one that is?"
I narrowed my eyes at the tall stranger. "I'm sure you can understand my concern when I ask who's asking."
"Oh, no, I completely understand," he said with a nod, and I could swear I had seen him before. "I'm an old friend of hers."
I quirked a brow. Strange man who claimed to a woman-who-lived-alone's friend? That had trouble written all over it. And from one woman to another, I was concerned, even if I didn’t know her very well.
"That's not saying much, sir," I said, biting back the annoyance. "I think that maybe you should–"
I stopped speaking when Wanda's door opened and she popped her head out. She looked to me before spotting the tall stranger, shoulders relaxing.
"I thought I heard you out here," she mumbled to the stranger, before stepping out fully and giving me a reassuring look. "It's okay, Y/N. I know him."
I nodded, glancing at the man, before meeting Wanda's eyes knowingly. "If you're sure..."
She seemed comfortable as she crossed her arms, hugging herself. Smiling reassuringly, she nodded. I relaxed when I saw she knew the suspicious stranger.
"In that case, sorry 'bout the interrogation," I apologised to her friend. "But, you gotta understand with the whole getup you have..."
Her friend chuckled deeply, looking to his shoes with amusement. "Yeah, sorry about that, ma'am. Didn't mean to worry you. It's nice to know Wanda here has thoughtful neighbours though."
"I'm twenty-two, not a ma'am," I said with amusement, before shaking my head. "Anyway, I should get going. Sorry again."
Wanda and her friend nodded as I left them; I was just glad it wasn't some creepy perv stalking our building – that had happened once.
I headed to the supermarket to do some shopping when I saw Wanda again, this time in the milk aisle. Well, she actually saw me, her trolley stopping before mine as she got my attention.
"Oh, Wanda, hey," I greeted her with a smile. "Fancy seeing you here."
She cracked a smile. "Yeah, well, I needed to pick up a few things. Milk, actually," she grabbed some from the fridge to prove her point, "when I saw you."
I nodded, before remembering earlier and feeling a little embarrassed. "Hey, er, sorry about before with your friend. I hope I didn't offend them or anything."
"No need to apologise," she said with a shake of her head. "It's actually very nice of you to have my back like that. I mean, we don't even know each other that well, but you watched out for me. I appreciate it."
"It's the bare minimum of a neighbour," I joked, before settling into genuine smile. "Besides, I'd like to think you'd do the same."
"Of course," she agreed, nodding slightly, before her eyes drifted to the fridge.
I noticed that every conversation we shared felt unfinished, like there was more to be said but neither of us had the guts to say it. Like now, for example, I wanted to check in and see if she was okay, but I felt like I was overstepping since, as she'd put it, we didn’t know each other very well. So, I changed the subject instead.
"So, just milk then?" I asked, nodding to her trolley which had a few bits and bobs in.
She was confused for a moment, zoning back into reality, before it registered in her mind and she answered, "Along with a few other things. And you?"
"Pretty much same," I said with a shrug.
Her eyes lingered in my trolley as she stifled a smile. "That looks like a lot more than a few things, Y/N."
I almost laughed. "Technically, yeah, I guess..." I met her curious gaze, explaining, "I'm having a meal with my sister, her boyfriend and my boyfriend at my place tonight. Cooking a lamb roast." She raised her eyebrows with mild surprise, making me shrug dismissively. "It's not that big of a deal, but there's a lot to prepare and I like things to be perfect, so yeah."
She licked her lips and nodded. "It sounds great. Good luck, I guess. I'm sure it'll turn out wonderful."
"Fingers crossed."
She chuckled, glancing at her shoes, making her dark hair fall in front of her like a curtain. When she looked back up, I couldn't help but smile at how cute she looked.
"I'll leave you to it then," she said, before redirecting her trolley around me. "See you whenever."
"See you." I nodded as she walked past me, shoulder brushing mine and leaving me startled at the weird effect she had on me whenever we spoke.
It didn't last for long though, so I brushed it off and continued to do my shop. The evening couldn't come soon enough, and I soon found myself entertaining my boyfriend, my sister and her boyfriend at my dinner table.
"So I was cooking us a nice meal, as we planned, and she ended up having a go at me because of the mess I made afterwards," my boyfriend, Teddy, was explaining to my sister and her boyfriend, Caleb. "That's why I don't try to be romantic anymore."
I paused from sipping my water, looking over at Teddy with an are you serious? look on my face. Y/S/N and Caleb laughed at Teddy's story, but I wasn't as amused as they were.
"Aw, c'mon, babe, don't be pissed off again," Teddy pleaded teasingly from beside me. "It's a joke. I'm joking."
"But that's not how it happened," I corrected him, before looking to the couple before me. "What Teddy means to say is that I had just cleaned the kitchen and told him that when he cooks, he should try to clean as he goes along so it's easier, but of course, he drops cream everywhere and I had to clean it out of the crevices of the counter. All over again."
Y/S/N and Caleb laughed at my retelling of the story, and Teddy frowned playfully as he looked my way.
"And that's definitely not the reason you're not romantic," I said to him promisingly. "When was the last time you even got me flowers?"
He tried to take lead of the conversation again, straightening up and asking, "When was the last time you got me flowers? Feminism, Y/N. It goes both ways."
He was never usually this obnoxious and it was irking me. Y/S/N and Caleb assumed it was all a joke, so were laughing it off, but I was starting to get frustrated. How could he try and make me look terrible in front of my own family?
"I bought you flowers two weeks ago when you got your promotion, remember?" I answered him with a raised brow.
"Damn, she got you there, Ted," Caleb said like it was a burn.
I subtly clenched my jaw and distracted myself with sipping water. Teddy sighed and tried to wrap an arm around me, but I pulled away slightly.
"Oh, come on, you're not mad, are you? This is all in good faith, babe," he said lightly.
I downed my water and looked between them all. "I think I'm gonna get some air. You guys enjoy your drinks."
They all chorused their disagreements, but I couldn't be bothered dealing with them when they were tipsy and annoying, so I ignored them and headed to the fire escape for a breather.
When I reached the railing, I sighed immediately, feeling like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Until I heard a creaking noise and jumped with surprise before seeing Wanda sitting on her side of the fire escape, drink in hand.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," she said apologetically.
I breathed out, turning around and leaning my back against the railing so I could see her better. "It's okay, it's not you. I just– I forgot you could be there. Used to living without a neighbour. It's taking some getting used to."
I forced a small smile to reassure her, before looking down and taking small breaths of fresh air. Teddy could get under my skin at times, tonight being one of those times, and it was happening more and more lately. Why couldn't he just be less... annoying?
"Is everything okay?" Wanda asked, and I looked up fo see her green-gold eyes glowing in the dark under the moon light.
"Yeah," I said with a nod. I glanced inside, seeing my three guests laughing it up like I was still there. I collapsed on my chair and stared into the bustling city ahead. "Why wouldn't it be?"
Wanda hesitated. "Didn't you have that dinner tonight?"
I leaned in the palm of my hand, mumbling, "Yeah. It's still going on. I just needed some air."
Wanda must have sensed there was more to my words – it didn't take a genius to see that – but to my relief, she didn't push on. All she said was, "Oh, okay," and stayed quiet.
The two of us sat there, in a comfortable silence, staring into the city and revelling in the moon's presence. It was beautiful out, though not a single star could be seen because of the city's pollution. Instead, the moon hung high above our heads and conflicted with the many street and building lights of New York City, thriving even past dusk.
I probably could have stayed there all night, preferring Wanda's silent yet comfortable presence to whatever was waiting for me back inside. But to my dismay, I was called back in and sighed quietly to myself.
"I should head back in," I excused myself, standing up to leave. But I lingered by the door, asking Wanda, "Have you eaten dinner yet?" She seemed puzzled with my question, and I continued speaking anyway. "I made a lot of food and have loads of leftovers I can't finish myself."
She seemed to understand what I was implying and shook her head. "That's okay, Y/N, thank you."
"Wanda, I insist," I said with a small smile. "It'll just go in the bin otherwise."
She was still reluctant. "Honestly, it's fine."
i wasn't taking no for an answer though. "I'll stop by in a bit to drop it off."
"Y/N, I–"
"See you then!" I exclaimed before heading back inside and leaving her no choice to deny it.
"There she is," Y/S/N called out to me when I returned. "You feel better?"
"Perfect," I said sarcastically.
She laughed. "C'mon, we're all sorry. Besides, Caleb and I have to go now, so we want to end on a good note."
Was I being too butt hurt? Probably.
"Right, sorry," I said, looking to them all, before saying, "Do you guys want any food to bring back with you?"
"You guys enjoy it," Caleb said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It was delicious though, Y/N. Thanks for the lovely evening."
"Anytime," I said with a tired smile, before leading them to the door and looking to my sister. "Let me know when you're home, yeah?"
She hummed in agreement, before pulling me into a tight hug. "Love you, Y/N."
"Love you, too," I returned with a playful eye roll.
After bidding them a goodbye, I was left alone with Teddy, who was surprisingly washing the dishes.
"This your way of apologising?" I joked, stopping by the sink.
He glanced at me with apologetic eyes. "Depends. Is it working?"
As I met his brown eyes, I thought back to how frustrating he was acting earlier. He must have been acting out in front of guests for some reason, but he wasn't always like that. Maybe I was overreacting.
"I'll let you know when you're done," I retorted, making him smile with amusement.
As he did that, I worked on filling some containers with leftover dinner for Wanda, being sure to include a generous amount of everything.
"Who's that for?" Teddy asked, noticing what I was doing.
"Wanda, my new neighbour."
"Never heard of her."
I gave him a knowing look. "Hence the word 'new'."'
He returned the stare. "What I mean is, I've never seen her around."
I shrugged, finishing packing the containers and stacking them to carry. "She prefers to keep to herself."
"What, like a weirdo?"
I rolled my eyes. "No, Teddy. She's just private. Introverted, if you will."
"Sounds like a weirdo to me..."
I chose to ignore him as I left the flat and headed to Wanda's. She opened up quicker than usual, probably since she was expecting me this time.
"Bon appétit," I joked, before holding out the takeaway containers. "It's lamb roast with veg, potatoes, some gravy and bread."
"You really didn't have to," she said, though accepted the food. When she glanced down at it, she added, "This is a lot for one person."
I couldn't help the smile on my face. "Enough for second's. You'll have to let me know if you like it. It's my best recipe."
She snickered, eyes meeting mine. "I'm sure it's delicious... do you want to come in?"
Stepping to the side, she looked to me with what I think was a hopeful expression. I felt bad when I smiled sadly, shaking my head.
"I'd love to, Wanda, but I've actually still got my boyfriend over and I can't really, y'know..."
"No worries," she was quick to reassure. "It's– no, it's okay, honestly. I just thought I'd ask."
It was the first time she'd ever asked and meant it, which meant she was finally getting comfortable with me. I would have preferred to go in, but I couldn't just leave Teddy, nor kick him out.
"Maybe we can hang out tomorrow?" I asked hopefully. "If you want, that is. Because I want to. But I don't want to just invite myself over."
She seemed amused as she nodded. "Tomorrow sounds great. Maybe I can make you dinner, as a thank you for this food."
I grew a little excited at spending a bit more time with the quiet, reserved brunette. "I'd like that."
She nodded, lips pursed into a suppressed smile, and glanced at the food in her hand. "Great. Well... have a good evening, Y/N. And thank you again for the food."
"Good evening," I returned, subconsciously memorising the rare smile she gave me, before leaving her to it.
When I returned to my flat, all I could think about was the next night and getting to know Wanda.
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maximoff#marvel imagine#scarlet witch#wandavision#elizabeth olsen
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all the wrong places [6/7] - spencer reid x reader
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: 2.2k
Summary: It only takes a moment for Spencer to realise that he doesn’t just want to marry you someday, he wants to marry you as soon as he possibly can. But since he can’t come up with a solid plan, he turns to his BAU family for help in planning the most important day of his life so far. Is that a mistake? Most definitely.
Warnings: Series probably aren’t meant to be exclusively fluffy, but this one practically is! I need some fluff in my life, damn it! There may be some mention of regular Criminal Minds things, some language but mostly just good ol’ Spence lovin’
---
Chapter Six - Plain and Simple
He lets Rossi’s words ricochet around his mind for the rest of the day. As he packed up their stuff at the police precinct and laughed at Derek’s insistence on just how excited he was to get back to Savannah. As he pretended to be asleep on the jet with his head in your lap and your fingers in his hair. As he drove the two of you home. As he listened to your breathing even out, staring at the ceiling, unable to stop his mind from racing.
Rossi was right. And annoying. And right.
He was still thinking about it when he arrived at work the next morning and Hotch called him into his office within two minutes of his arrival. He looked at you confused, but you simply shrugged, pushing him towards the office with insistence. He shut the door behind him when he entered.
“Everything alright, Hotch?”
“Sit down, Reid.”
Well, that wasn’t a yes. He sat down regardless and waited patiently for Hotch to start talking. Hotch was taking his time, walking at what felt like a snail’s pace to his chair, sitting down, getting comfortable-
“Sir? Is something wrong?”
Spencer wasn’t as patient as he wished. It was something you frequently said you found adorable, but nevertheless it was something he should perhaps think about working on in the future.
“Frankly?” Hotch said, which wasn’t the answer Spencer had been expecting, “Yes, there is something. This upcoming proposal of yours. I’m worried it’s affecting your work.”
“I’m sorry?”
“You’ve tried to propose...four times now?”
“I think it’s five…” Spencer mumbled and Hotch tried not to grimace.
“Clearly you’re getting in your head about it and worrying too much. Since this is on your mind, I wonder if you’d like me to keep you apart on cases, just for a while.”
“I really don’t think that’s-“
“It’s a suggestion, Reid, not a declaration.”
Spencer paused before he answered again. On the one hand, the ring in his satchel had become heavier and heavier as time went on. Looking at you without blurting out every single plan he had for the two of you in the future was becoming harder with each passing second. Was his ability to do his job being hindered by being around you all the time?
No. He was sure that wasn’t true. Since being with you, the both of you had only gotten better at work. You understood each other without having to try, you listened to each other’s thoughts without question, you knew how to keep your relationship professional. Hotch’s worries were unfounded.
“Sir, with all due respect, I don’t think that will be necessary. Y/N and I have always worked well together and I don’t think there’s any evidence to the contrary in recent months. Unless you see it differently?”
“No, I don’t. I was only offering the option, Reid,” Hotch looked vaguely amused, if Reid had gotten anywhere with reading the stoic face he had grown accustomed to over the years, “A personal question, but why do think you’re struggling with this so much?”
Spencer sighed. Sunk into his chair a little further.
“When I first decided to propose, I wanted it to be objectively perfect. I calculated the risks of every proposal scenario I could think of, deliberated over which combination would be worthy of becoming the moment we’d talk about for the rest of our lives. Then I just froze. Every time. I froze, Hotch.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Rossi said Y/N wouldn’t care how I did it because she’d just want to marry me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to make her cry, you know?” His eyes went wide as he realised how that sounded, “Not like that, just…”
“I know why you freeze. Because you’ve let everyone else get into your head. You’ve tried out everyone else’s ideas before your own, right?”
“...right.”
“So ignore everyone. Except Dave, maybe, since that’s the only solid advice this team has given you. Ignore everyone else and just think about Y/N. You know her better than anyone. If you think about it, about her, then you’ll know what to do.”
“But how do I-“
“Back to work, Reid, I’ve got paperwork to be getting on with.”
“But-“
“Goodbye, Reid.”
There was no room for argument, since Hotch’s eyes were already on the paper on his desk, hauling a large document in front of him and letting out a small huff as he picked up his pen. Spencer sat there immobile for a few more seconds. Waiting. Hotch did nothing to acknowledge him again.
There was nothing to do but leave.
Hotch looked up as he heard his door softly click shut. He smiled, if only a little. If bringing Spencer into the office occasionally to threaten to split the two of you up in the field gave him the push he needed to propose, he might make it a regular arrangement.
---
“What was that about?”
Spencer had made a beeline for the coffee machine as soon as he left Hotch’s office, if only to give him some time to get a story together as to why he’d been called in there. But as soon as he returned with a coffee in each hand, one of which metaphorically had your name on it, you asked him outright.
“He just wanted to check that my shoulder wasn’t still painful.”
“And it isn’t, right?”
You looked almost scary when you were being protective (though it wasn’t like he didn’t love it).
“As I’ve told you 34 times, no it isn’t,” he smiled, handing you your coffee with a small peck to the top of your head. You grimaced at the coffee, unexpectedly, but as you pulled out the two coffees from behind your own back, he grinned.
“Wanted you to have caffeine in case Hotch had been harsh,” you said, grinning yourself. Spencer chuckled a little, taking the coffee you’d made him with a hum of gratitude and walking to his desk with his two coffees. He knew that maybe he should give one of them away, but somehow he didn’t have the heart. That ring was feeling heavier again on his shoulder, and he was grateful for the relief when he shrugged off his satchel and placed it far too tenderly on the floor beside him.
With that the two of you got to work, spending most of the next half hour greeting the rest of the team as, one by one, they trudged into the office with caffeine of their own. With Hotch firmly buried in his paperwork and Rossi such a terrible influence on you all, by the time everyone was into work you had dissolved into friendly chatter rather than work.
“I swear, it’s going to happen this time. Nothing’s going to get in my way.”
“You told her that last time, Derek, and then you were away for two weeks on a serial case. You gotta stop making such big plans!” Penelope argued but Derek shook his head.
“You’ll see babygirl, this one will pan out.”
“You know, from everything I’ve heard about Savannah, I think she might prefer a quiet night in rather than some grand gesture you can’t follow through on. It’s those little moments where you make time for her that she’ll remember,” you tried, because Penelope was right and everyone in the room knew that except the one person that needed to.
“You really think so?”
“I know so, Morgan. You know, once, Spencer prepared a fort for the two of us? A whole ass fort, with the sofa cushions and sheets and every blanket he could find. It’s one of my favourite memories.”
“It is?” Spencer asked, his mind only reeling a little bit. He’d done that on impulse, thinking it might be the perfect combination of comfort and nostalgia that you needed to take your mind off a particularly bad case involving children you’d been on the week before. He’d never known you’d remembered it so much.
“Definitely. Even if it was so small we both got sore necks sitting inside for too long. It was amazing,” you were looking at him, stars in your eyes, but you quickly shook your attention back to Derek, “I’m not saying build Savannah a fort, that might be a me and Spencer thing, but you get my point.”
“I guess I do,” Derek scratched the back of his neck, at least beginning to rethink his elaborate ways of letting his girlfriend down, “Thanks, Y/L/N.”
You nodded a ‘no problem’ just as Rossi remembered where you all were and suggested everyone get back to work. Spencer sat back down, but his mind was all over the place. Hotch said if he thought about it, thought about you, then he’d just know.
Maybe the trick wasn’t just thinking about you, but actually listening to you.
---
“Stopping to get takeout on the way home was the best decision ever,” you said, halfway through a mouthful, “It’s times like these I’m glad to have such a genius boyfriend.”
“You know not every decision I make based on my status as a genius, right?”
“Yeah, whatever, eat your food, babe,” you insisted, leaning your head on his shoulder as the two of you sat on the sofa side by side. Your legs were curled up against his side, Spencer resting his other hand on your leg as he ate. There were moments of idle chatter between the two of you, but since there hadn’t been time to eat earlier in the day, you mostly concentrated on getting the food in you as quickly as humanly possible.
That was, until you decided to break the silence.
“Hm,” you began, then a good few seconds of thinking later, “Never mind.”
“You know you have to tell me what you were thinking now.”
“No, really, doesn’t matter.”
“Y/N…”
“Seriously Spence, forget it.”
“I’m physically incapable of forgetting it Y/N,” he said bluntly, “Just tell me. It won’t be as weird as you think.”
You paused.
“Okay. Just hear me out then,” you said seriously, turning in your seat so that you were facing him properly, leaning an elbow on his knee and your chin on your fist, “What if we got married?”
Ah.
Now that, that had not been what he had expected. He hardly managed to respond through the lump that had formed instantaneously in his throat, his airways closing in.
“What?”
“I’m just asking, what if we got married? I mean, I love you and I’m pretty sure you love me. There’s no one else I want to be with, ever. So...why not?” When he didn’t say anything, you continued on, though far less sure of yourself, “I know we’re not exactly traditional but it would make sense, financially, right? And maybe...it might be a little romantic?”
“A little r-romantic?” He stuttered out, face drained of all its colour. This wasn’t in the plan. This was not in the plan. He may not have had a plan, but whatever this was, it wasn’t the plan.
Your face fell.
“Sorry, this isn’t the way to propose is it? And talking about the financial benefits of marriage definitely isn’t romantic,” you frowned to yourself, no longer looking him in the eye, “And honestly, maybe marriage isn’t something you see as romantic anyway, seeing as you probably know all the history that included the woman belonging to the man and everything, so maybe you don’t even want marriage?”
The infliction in your voice on the last question, the way your pitch changed, he could tell you beginning to get really nervous. Like what you’d just said might ruin your relationship that could never be ruined. But he wasn’t even thinking straight, because you had just asked him to marry you and he didn’t even get a chance to do it first. To do it right. He blinked rapidly as he looked at his lap.
“I don’t think-“ he began, but stopped himself, “I’m not sure-“
“You know what? Please forget I said anything, I told you I didn’t want to talk about it. Pretend it never happened, please Spence,” you said, already getting up from the sofa, distancing yourself from him, picking up your plate with a half-eaten dinner and making towards the kitchen, “I think I’ll turn in for the night, I’m beat. Night Spence.”
You hardly looked at him as you passed him to go to the bedroom, but he saw the flash of unshed tears in your eyes as you scurried by. He opened his mouth to speak, but for once his ability to process the situation that had just taken place was at an all time low. Instead, he scrambled to fetch the ring from his satchel near the door, wanting nothing more than to ask you right there and then—
“Y/N, wait-“
He held up the ring box as he turned around, but the bedroom door had shut with a click.
You’d just asked him to marry you and he hadn’t said yes.
Well, fuck.
---
A/N: i’m aware this is six months late! all the apologies and i hope you enjoy this next chapter, i’ve nearly finished our beautiful fluffy finale to the story that should have finished long ago. lots of love to anyone who managed to make it this far! i wish you all a wonderful week <3
taglist if you’re still interested! (ily all regardless)
@mrs-dr-reid @soda610 @alexxcorona113 @thupidalethea @may-beforejune-afterapril @ilovesupersoldiers @hurricanejjareau @mortallythoughtfulgurl @aperrywilliams @saranyx@anotherspencerreidblog @thegayestdestielshipper @burkgolden @zozolee @sargent-barnes�� @halseysunset
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer x reader#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fluff
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no grave can hold my body down (i'll crawl home to her)
A jukebox soulmate au where your missing stuff finds its way to your soulmate.
ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29147940
They say that there's someone who makes up the rest of your soul. That they're your perfect match and once you meet them, once you touch them, your wandering souls will be fused back together, whole and unbroken.
Luke's not sure who they are. But honestly, he just wishes his shit would stop going permanently missing. You lose something and it's sucked through some kind of hole in space-time to be found by your soulmate. Luke would really like to have a conversation with whoever came up with this system cause it sucks.
Cause he's a forgetful guy. His brain is always going a million miles an hour, with at least three different trains of thought chugging away and sometimes the tracks cross and there's a collision and all the passengers have to bail out and it's just a mess, okay? Keeping track of his stuff tends to fall by the wayside a little bit.
It's how he lost his favourite beanie. And don't get him started on the number of individual socks that have just poofed themselves out of existence. He always has to have a box of new guitar picks handy because as soon as it's not in his hand or clamped between his teeth, it's as if it never existed. He just hopes his soulmate appreciates them.
But it's a give and take. He'll reach into his pocket to find scrunchies, hair clips, endless bobby pins. Just generic stuff that tells him very little about who his soulmate is except that they probably have long hair. (Once, he found one long, dark hair curling around the folds of a scrunchie. He keeps it tucked between the pages of a notebook, stashed away on his bookshelf.)
(And yeah: they. He's spent a lot of time thinking about this. He's had crushes on all sorts of people and their gender never really made a difference, but his introspection also leads to a solid black ring resting on the middle finger of his right hand.)
One day, he opens his school bag to find a homework page that does not belong to him. He looks at it, front and back, scouring for a name, a hint, a clue, feeling a thing with feathers rise behind his ribs, reducing his lung capacity and making him draw in shallower breaths. But nothing. Just the slightly messy handwriting of someone who thinks faster than they can write. He sighs and stuffs it back in his bag, reluctantly retrieving his maths book. His frustrated sigh must have been audible because Reggie leans over from his own desk.
"Hey, you all right, man?' His eyebrows are drawn up together, lines of concern creasing his face.
"Yeah, yeah. Just soulmate stuff junking up my bag."
It's not always junk, though. A bracelet turns up on his bedside table. He starts wearing it every day. He refuses to take it off, even to sleep. Sheet music to an unfamiliar song is found wedged between his records. This particular item makes his heart beat faster, his chest tingling and warm. Because they're a musician too. It makes sense, of course. No way his soulmate could not like music. It's basically Luke's entire soul (or half soul, he guesses). But the confirmation makes him feel both calmer and more anxious. He wants to meet this person.
His favourite item to ever turn up is a photo. A woman and a little kid sit in a field, turned towards each other, faces pointed away from the camera. But he can see their smiles. He sleeps with it next to his face on the pillow the night he finds it because he doesn't want to look away. In the morning, he tucks it into the back of his song-writing journal where he keeps the rest of his heart.
At 17, he and his best friends are on the precipice of being legends. As he pulls his guitar from the case, a long, striped scarf flutters to the ground, the kind someone might tie in their hair or loop around their wrist. He ties it around his bicep for good luck. It makes him feel like his soulmate is there, by his side, cheering him on.
They meet a girl - Rose - who looks so familiar. Something about her smile. But he just can't quite put a finger on it. All he knows is that her presence is reassuring. Safe. He doesn't know her but he feels a tug in his chest that says family. The same tug he feels when he looks at Alex and Reggie and Bobby. (He's changed his mind, his half of his shared soul is made up of these three dorks and the music they make together.)
And then he dies. As darkness closes in around him, he thinks I'm sorry, boys and I'll never get to meet them.
---
"Flynn!" Julie whines. "I can't find my homework anywhere!"
Flynn rolls her eyes. "Did you check your school bag?"
"Yes," Julie bites out, not actually mad at Flynn, just at the situation.
"Your desk?" A nod. "Your dad's car? Under your bed? Your locker?"
Julie has to stop her. She knows from experience that Flynn'll just keep going. "Yes, it's not anywhere."
Flynn shrugs nonchalantly, a smirk pulling the corner of her mouth. "Well, guess it's gone to your soulmate then."
Julie groans loudly in frustration. She pulls her beanie (their beanie) down over her eyes and slumps back against her locker, trying desperately to not look like she's pouting but definitely pouting. Flynn just gives her an unimpressed look.
Julie breathes out harshly through her nose and resigns herself to retrieving the schoolwork she does have from her locker.
"Ugh, gross!" she exclaims, fishing a pair of boxers out from where they had appeared in the dark recesses of her locker.
Flynn's snort turns into a full belly laugh as Julie holds them away from her body, arm extended as if she were holding hazardous waste.
She chucks them back in and slams the door shut. "Come on, let's get to class."
Flynn follows, tripping over herself as she continues to laugh her way down the hall.
---
Julie isn't sure who her soulmate is or whether she knows them already. Of course, it's pretty rare to meet them in high school, but a girl can dream. Unfortunately, it seems that her soulmate is terrible at doing laundry because she'll often find individual socks lying on her bedroom floor and undies crumpled in the corner of her bathroom. The beanie that turns up is quickly added into regular rotation and if it isn't on her head, it's tucked into her bedside table. The muscle tank threw an interesting spanner in the works as it set her mind to imagining the kind of person who might wear something like that. (She might, maybe become a person who wears something like that. Occasionally. When the desire strikes her.)
She's fairly certain that they're a musician. She's constantly finding half-written lyrics strewn around her room in the most atrocious handwriting seen outside of a doctor's office. The lyrics - those that are legible - are beautiful. Occasionally they'll be lyrics to a Trevor Wilson song, though, which is a bit weird but she assumes they must just be a big fan. She appreciates their good taste.
Another hint is the guitar picks. She finds them everywhere: in her sock draw, between the pages of her school books, next to her toothbrush. One memorable time, she found a pick snarled in her hair. And all of them, every last one, are covered in tooth marks. As if her soulmate has a habit of chewing on their guitar picks. It's kinda gross. Even so, she collects them in a jar on her desk with the date she'd found them written on the back.
---
The boys turn up and her life is turned right-side up. She tells them to stay out of her room. Constantly. Boundaries, she reminds them. Alex and Reggie get it, they can respect her personal space. But, Luke. She knows he goes in there because he keeps leaving his stuff everywhere.
On this day she finds his flannel just draped across her bed, as if he's trying to irritate her. She snatches it up and storms down to the studio.
"Luke!" she shouts as she enters the studio, ready to tear him a new one. "What have I told you about going in my roo-"
She stops short because all three boys are ripping the place apart, looking for something. When he turns around to face her, she sees tears wetting his face that he quickly tries to swipe away. Her heart leaps into her throat.
"Luke, what's wrong?" she tries to ask but is interrupted.
"You found it!" His voice is a little watery but exuberant.
"I -- what?" she shoots him a quizzical look.
"My flannel. Well - my dad's flannel, but -" he cuts himself off, scrubbing his fist over his eyes.
Julie scoffs a little, gently. "Yeah, dude. You left it in my room."
His eyebrows furrow in that way of his.
"No, I didn't."
"Uh, yeah. You did."
"I haven't been in your room."
"Well, clearly you have," she says, shaking the flannel a little and holding it out to him.
"Thanks," he says softly as he grabs it, still looking at it with a bewildered expression. But he shrugs it on and uses the sleeve to wipe away what remains of his tears.
When Julie looks over at Reggie and Alex, they're exchanging a meaningful look that Julie can't quite read. When they notice her gaze, they both glance away, once again fascinated with the chairs on the ceiling.
Huh.
---
"Julie! Stop leaving your homework in my song-writing journal!"
"I didn't put it there!"
"Well who did, then?"
The patented Reggie and Alex LookTM makes an appearance.
---
"Hey! I used to have a beanie like that!"
"Uhuh."
"I did! It was my favourite until I lost it."
Julie nods but doesn't look up from her homework.
---
"Ew, gross, Luke! Why do guitarists chew on their picks?"
He shrugs a little sheepishly. "It just helps me think. Besides, if I put it down it just kind of … disappears into the void." He gestures vaguely at the aforementioned void.
"That's true," Reggie pipes up. "He's always got a back-up supply!"
Alex scoffs a little. "Yeah, but he's the only guitarist I know who chews on his picks."
"Well my soulmate chews on theirs," Julie puts in, "So Luke's not the only one."
She hears the implement in question clatter to the piano. When she looks at Luke his eyes are wide and a little sad. None of them had really talked about soulmates. She's not sure about the implications that being dead has on finding a soulmate. None of them had found theirs before they died.
Alex, however. He'd managed to literally run into his soulmate in ghost form, so who knows. She's not sure if there are any rules. Whether both parties have to be dead or if one can be alive.
(If she's honest with herself, she's spent a fair amount of time thinking about this. Thinking about Luke. She pushes the thought away when it pops up cause it's not possible but it always creeps back in. But they can't even touch so it’s a moot point. That longed-for skin-to-skin contact that bridges the gap between souls remains elusive. The silly daydream of a love-struck girl.)
---
"Julie," Flynn says worriedly as they sidle up to their lockers, "Where's your ring?"
"My rin-" she lifts her right hand to her face and studies her empty middle finger with distraught consternation. The space where delicate twists of black metal usually sit is bare. "My ring! I - I'm sure I put it on this morning."
"Yeah, I saw you wearing it," Flynn confirms, her eyebrows furrowing.
Julie can feel a tide rising in her throat, swelling up behind her eyes, each crash of the sea battering against her ribcage in a heartbeat tattoo.
A poof to her right interrupts her rising panic. She looks at Luke, eyes wide and watering.
"Julie! I came to bri- What's wrong?" he cuts himself off when he notices her distress.
"My ring is gone!" Her voice is tight, as if trapped in her throat.
Flynn had cottoned on Luke's presence and had begun to move around to where he stands to prevent their peers from thinking Julie's well and truly gone off the deep end. (Julie thinks distantly how grateful she is for such a wonderful friend.)
Bafflingly, a bright smile splits Luke's face. "This ring?" And pinched between his pointer finger and thumb is Julie's ring.
Julie's entire body visibly relaxes and it's as if her spine contracts a couple inches, muscles no longer held taut by emotion, the tide pulls out.
"Where did you find that?" Her voice is practically a whisper now, adrenaline having sapped all energy.
Luke shrugs nonchalantly. "It was in my pick container for some reason."
Creases form on Julie's face but she gratefully receives the piece of jewellery. She slips it into its rightful place and when she looks up she realises Luke's eyes have gone wide. Her eyebrows pull up into a question.
"You -- no, sorry, nevermind." He shakes his head and takes a step back. Julie moves forward a step. Flynn glances around to make sure no one is watching.
"No, Luke, it's okay. What's wrong?"
He shakes his head again, eyebrows drawing together and the hint of a smile on his lips. Instead of answering, he reaches his right palm out to touch hers, letting their rings knock together.
"Oh," Julie breathes. She's not sure how she'd missed it before. Maybe just that it had blended in with all his other rings.
"Yeah," he says, bashful, "Oh."
Julie smiles at him and he smiles right back.
---
The Orpheum happens. And the boys are clinging to the last shreds of themselves and she's crying out Go, save yourselves.
But No music is worth making, Julie, if we're not making it with you.
And she hugs him. And she can feel him. The places their skin meet spark with some cosmic electricity but there's no time to dwell on it because she has to save Alex and Reggie too.
It isn't until later, when Reggie exclaims, "Hey, what's that on your back?"
She twists around, glimpsing the shape of a hand darkening the skin of her lower back. Her head whips around to look at Luke and she notices. "Luke, your shoulder!"
One hand flies up to his left shoulder, tracing over the darkened patch where Julie's palm had first rested against his skin. Their eyes lock.
"You're-"
"We're-"
She's not sure who's making which language-adjacent sound.
Alex is looking back and forth between them, a grin pulling across his face while Reggie's mouth hangs open in realisation. But they stay quiet. The see, told you so's will be saved for later.
Julie starts moving, crossing the room towards Luke. Luke seems to shake out of a stupor, surging towards her as well. They meet in the middle, her arms once again wrapping around his neck in a replay of their earlier embrace. His hands find their spot on her back.
"It's you, it's really you - " she's babbling. She continues to babble. Luke moves a hand up to smooth back her hair and gently places his lips against her forehead, finally causing her tongue to cease. The touch is so painfully tender it feels like a branding iron against her skin. They stay there for a century or so, just rocking to an inaudible beat, clinging to one another.
Finally, Luke tucks his chin so that he can rest their foreheads together, breathing the same air.
"You're amazing, Julie Molina. I would die a thousand times to find you."
She nods, unable to form words cause, yeah, so would she.
They pull back and her eyes slide over left arm, landing on the scarf tied there. "My scarf!" She tugs on it a little.
Luke chuckles, sliding his palm along her jaw. Realisation crosses his face. "Oh, that is my beanie."
His head whips up and around when loud guffaws break past stifling hands. Alex and Reggie have dissolved into borderline hysterics. He looks back at Julie whose eyes fill with shared mirth. A laugh bubbles up in his own chest, spilling over and out of his mouth.
And finally, surrounded by Alex and Reggie and Julie, his soul is complete.
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mouth full of white lies {Machine Gun Kelly} 1
1. you look like my next mistake
Summary: You’re Douglas Booth’s adopted little sister, a YouTuber moonlighting as an assistant on The Dirt. The fact that your brother’s the lead is a happy accident. Another happy accident? Getting drunk with MGK and becoming fast friends with him. Until, of course, everyone assumes you’re together. What better way to make everyone shut up then by agreeing. Sort of. Okay so you’re not really dating but you’ve got to convince your respective fans that you are. And the rest of the cast and crew. It’s okay, flirting is totally harmless. The feelings? Everything else that comes after? Less harmless.
A/N: we meant to be a much different, much shorter fic for @kellysimagines, but i hope you like it!! fake dating AU. reader is adopted, not blood related!! warnings for drunken-ness.
the brainstrust: @sataninsatin @silvertonguedserpent @juliarose21 @kellysimagines @estxxbritt @machine-gun-casie @siriuslymooned @harringtonstudios @misscharlottelee @narcvissa @hiworlditishumbleme @angelwarner28 @nevilles-insinuations @rumoured-whispers @mgkobsessed @edwardtriggerhandzz @suckerforbarnes @wastelcve @bakerkells @local-troubled-writer @freddiessmallnipples
----
The fact that you and your brother ended up working on the same project was purely coincidence, and that actually wasn’t a lie. Douglas had landed the role of a lifetime, Nikki Sixx in The Dirt, and was immediately up to his eyes in nondisclosure agreements. You, on the other hand, had been scrolling through Facebook when a friend of yours, Josy, who happened to be an assistant director who had been talking about a ‘huge project for Netflix she wasn’t allowed to discuss’ asked if you wanted to come onboard as her assistant, since you’d proven to be good under pressure and fast on your feet when she had still been filming student projects only a few years ago.
“Hello! Hello and welcome back, ducklings! Today is a ‘Get Ready With Me’ for my flight to New Orleans! Can you believe it? I’m working on a big project and I have to travel - they’re paying for my travel! I’m so excited! This is going to be such a fun project, even though I can’t tell you too much about it just yet. So to start with, I’m going to run you through my every-day shower routing.”
You hadn’t been at the table read, but you had been at rehearsals, had turned up on the first day looking all done up, excited and professional, only to be met with your brother in eyeliner.
“Duck!” Of course he was elated to see you, grin splitting his face from ear to ear. He calls you by your childhood nickname, he always has, and already you can feel every pair of eyes on you, but you don’t care. The nickname had followed you through life, of course less than a day in the project and it was already spreading.
Everything making sense after you mention Josy had gotten you the job. She was a mutual friend, had always been fond of the two of you.
“This,” you enthuse, clutching your clipboard to your chest, “this is what you’re doing? You’re doing the Motley Crue biopic?” You’re looking at him with stars in your eyes, your talented big brother, who seemed to bring you along for the ride in one way or another.
And finally he can tell you about it, because damn it had felt like forever since the two of you had spoken simply because he’d been hiding the biggest news in his life from you.
“Oi, Booths!” You hear Josy’s distinct voice the moment she steps in the rehearsal room, though she’s clearly smiling, “good to see you both, but Doug, I need you up and in the space; I’m running warm ups before we get started. Duck, could you go on a coffee run for me?” She asks it sweetly; she’d picked up the nickname for you years ago from Douglas, and of course it had stuck, not that you minded. With that you’re both off.
You’d been so distracted by getting to talk to your brother, who had been early just as you had been - there’s something to be said for nature versus nurture, despite not sharing genetics, you certainly shared a sense of punctuality - that you hadn’t even seemed to notice the rest of the cast getting in. But they’re not your job; you just have to keep Josy happy, get her food and drinks when she requested it, and type out emails she dictates. Easy.
Of course this isn’t how things stay; you’re in close proximity to the cast for at least five hours a day, in a corner somewhere working on your own emails or scrolling through Twitter when you weren’t needed, but always around. For the first few days, no-one pays you much attention.
“Hello! Hello and welcome back, ducklings! It’s my first week with The Project, and I’ve finally got a day off; it’s Sunday so I’m dragging my brother to a whole bunch of places you lovely people have recommended for me! Wish us luck!”
You’ve been in front of a camera for about as long as Douglas has, though never quite in the same way. You’d tried your hand at all sorts of jobs, both in the entertainment industry, and not, and while you enjoyed the entertainment industry well enough, you found that you had a passion for making your own videos. Your YouTube channel, which was almost at a million followers, had been going strong for almost four years, as you made videos about the lesser known roles in the industry. Sometimes your brother was in your videos, but often he wasn’t, and you felt lucky that you never really needed to use him for clout. He was just Doug, and your followers knew that if he was in a video, it’s because he wanted to be, but he wasn’t the reason the video was being made.
Douglas was nothing if not supportive, and when Sunday rolls around and when production gave you and the main cast the day off, while the second unit team worked with some of the secondary characters, you were both more than happy to take advantage of the freedom.
“Dude I have such a long list of places we could go, I don’t even know where to begin - haven’t you been here before?” You pressed the phone to your ear, frowning at the two outfits you had laid out on the bed before you.
“Yeah, for like,” Douglas hums at the other end of the line, “like press things, and like a week and a half for some Jupiter Ascending stuff-”
“Did that even make it -?”
“No, it got cut -” somewhere behind him, the milk frother of a coffee machine squeals, and someone’s indistinct name is called.
“Get me a drink,” you tell him, instinctively.
“Get one yourself!” He half laughs, and you hear him cover the receiver and muffle his thanks as he presumably picks up his drink.
“Who are you talking to?” When he uncovers the phone, you can hear another familiar voice; it’s Colson, you’re pretty sure. You know him from rehearsals, and a bit from his music, but not much beyond that.
“My sister,” Douglas offers, flatly, to which you make a noise of indignance.
“Ask him if he’s ever been to New Orleans -” you instruct, putting the phone on speaker and opting to change into your more practical jeans and sweater option.
“She wants to know if you’ve ever been to New Orleans -” He relays easily, and you hear a snort of laughter.
“Of course I have.” You hear Colson say.
“Of course he has -” Douglas tells you, as if worried that you hadn’t heard.
“Ask him -” You begin, but you’re cut off.
“We’re across the road,” Douglas tells you, and you know without having to see him that he’s rolling his eyes at you. Audi ambassador, philanthropist, movie star, and occasional model Douglas Booth had the composure of a saint for everyone but you, though neither of you would have it any other way, “just come over here yourself.”
“Get me a drink?” You asked hopefully, and you heard him sigh, knowing you’d already won.
Your favourite drink is waiting for you when you arrive, as are both Douglas, and Colson, sitting hunched over in a booth with dark glasses. You can’t help but chuckle.
“Booths in a booth.” You mutter, and at least that gets their attention. Sliding in next to Douglas, you make eye contact with Colson as he lowers his glasses and frowns at you, just a little, as you sip your drink.
He looks between the two of you for a moment; you don’t share a whole heap of similarities with him, but after a beat, he nods, and gives you a curious look.
“Alright, good to meet you,” he paused, narrowed his eyes for a moment, “you’re part of the crew, aren’t you?” Is what he focuses on.
“Assistant to the AD,” you nod, before adding, “Duck, you might know me as Duck,” and that he seems to recognise at least. Colson hums thoughtfully, nodding and sliding his glasses back up his nose as he leans back against the seat. Drinking your drink with a surprising focus, you hand over your list of recommended places to Douglas, who nods approvingly, but quickly turns it over to Colson. He makes short work of it, crosses quite a few spots off, adds a few of his own, and takes pause to look up from it.
“Why are we going all over town? Why not just like... chill and maybe go over lines and shit? Isn’t that what we’re meant to do?”
“Didn’t take you for the cautious type,” you tell him with a teasing edge to your voice. Colson fixes you with a half-smile, handing the phone back pointedly.
“I’m not, I just don’t want you to narc on me if we start at bourbon street and spend our precious Sunday getting drunk in The Big Easy,” he matches your tone, sitting back with a posture so relaxed it’s almost scripted, and you’re pretty sure you like his nerve.
“I’m...” you hesitate a little, “a YouTuber,” and though Colson winces a little, it still stings. With so much stigma surrounding your profession, even in 2018, it’s hard to explain to people what you do for a living and not receive criticism.
“So you’re gonna catch all the stupid shit we do on camera?” He asks, and oh, so that’s what he’s worried about. You let out a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding.
“If you don’t wanna be in it, then you don’t have to be; anyways, I’ll edit out all the bits that break our NDAs,” shrugging, you shoot for casual, and Colson looks like he’s actually weighing up his options.
“You still haven’t told him you’re not a narc,” Douglas stage whispers to you, which makes your expression sour and Colson laugh.
“You’re a narc,” you hiss back, reflexively.
“We’re method acting,” Douglas offers, aiming for that same casual confidence that Colson was exuding, but not quite getting there.
“Fuck yeah, dude, that’s the spirit,” Colson’s expression breaks out into a grin, and he offers Douglas a fist bump, which your brother gladly returns. Then Colson’s looking back at you, bright and excited rather than judgmental; “you in?”
“We’ve gained a newcomer! A tour guide, if you will, Mister-” and you turn where you’re filming yourself and the two men beside you, the camera shaking in your grip as you head down the street, and your voice lowers, “what do you want me to introduce you as-” but he buts you off, moves around Douglas, who’s laughing quietly to himself, and grabs the camera.
“It’s MGK, motherfuckers! We ‘bout to hit Bourbon Street - we’ll bookend this shit; open with it and close with it, we’ll be back here tonight!” He sticks his tongue out, and throws out the devil sign with his hands, before turning the camera to catch Douglas laughing, and you looking both excited and concerned.
“We will?”
When you ask about Daniel and Iwan, the other two members of the film’s Motley Crue, all you get is vague answers; in time, they’ll all come to be good friends, but it’s their first Sunday off, and no-one begrudges them for them choosing to take time for themselves. Douglas and Colson, however, had decided early on to try and make their friendship both on and off screen as authentic as possible.
“Fuck, man, Tommy’s like, opening line in the book is that he and Nikki were like an old married couple, for like twenty years, dude, that kind of connection is insane!” Colson is nothing if not good casting, waxing poetic at a diner he’d spotted around midday, your little group already tipsy and hungry since your less than substantial cafe breakfast.
“I give this bacon and egg roll,” Douglas is in his own little world, only aware that you had your camera pointing at him as he devoured his lunch with a surprisingly messy gusto, “four-and-a-half out of five cups.” He announced with a mouth full of food, using the rating system you’d devised earlier in the day. After a moment, he swallowed, before turning to Colson, expression serious, “I’ve known you for about a week, and as much as I like you, I don’t think I want to marry you.”
“No, that’s the thing, man, twenty years is a long-ass time to know someone; I just, man, by the end of this, we are gonna be tight, okay? That’s all I want. Bros, you know?” And he wrapped his arms around Douglas, pulling him in for a hug, and your brother nodded seriously, wrapping his arm around Colson in return.
“Bros.” He confirmed, giving the camera a very pointed look. You make sure the camera catches when you flip him off. All it does is set off all three of you laughing.
It’s an incredibly fun day, the three of you traipsing around, visiting sound studios and memorials and sites that paid homage to the great city you found yourselves in. You know you shouldn’t be surprised, but Colson’s rather reverential when it comes to the history of music, and when you look back at your list, you see the sites he’s added all have to do with it. Honestly, you’re a little endeared. It’s also a fun night, the parts of it you can remember, stumbling, leaning on one another. There’s bound to be something about it in the gossip rags in the following days, not that the three of you were badly behaved, just that they had both stopped caring about avoiding paparazzi, and, alright, being a little bit raucous.
In bed by two, you know you’re gonna have a killer hang over for your nine-am start, but it was a fun night, and you’re looking forward to reviewing your footage.
“I give this bourbon from - hey, where’s this bourbon from?” You turn to look over your shoulder, and the cup in your hand slops over with drink, splashing out onto the street, not that you notice. Douglas is talking to someone running a stall, but Colson joins you, wrapping an arm around you.
“We give this bourbon a cup out of cup,” he announces, and you nod seriously.
“Cup out of cup.” You agree, and lift up the cup, before an idea lights up your face. “Drink it with me, like same cup, try and drink it with me.” It’s a terrible idea, your cheeks pressed together, tongues out as if it would help you drink better -
“You guys look like incredibly stupid,” Douglas calls out from out of frame, finally noticing the two of you. You go to respond, but that’s when Colson tips up the cup and it manages to hit neither of your mouths, instead it splashes against where your cheeks were pressed together, and all down your clothes. “Told you.” Douglas adds.
Colson licks the bourbon from your cheek with a grin, but moves on quickly. You look around shiftily once the boys had left, still holding the camera with one hand, and you pull the hem of your shirt to your mouth, sucking liquor from it as you follow behind them wearing a pleased little smile.
Honestly, things get more lively in more ways than one, after that. Now that Colson knows you, it seems the rest of the cast do too. Slowly but surely you’re developing a friendship with both Iwan and Daniel, though Colson’s been surprisingly quick to treat you like an old friend.
“Trial by fireball whiskey,” is what he tells you after rehearsals one Saturday night. You’re doing a dinner run, picking up pizzas before the four of them go out, with you as their chaperone, as directed by Josy.
“Speaking of,” though you can’t help but grin a little at the fact that you’d earned his favour so easily, “I’ve almost finished the video.”
“Oh God,” he groans, laughs, and covers his face with his hands, “do I even wanna see it?”
“It’s not that damning, I promise, I need to stay monetized, you know?” You laugh, but it’s a sad truth you’ve had to deal with a lot since choosing to become a YouTuber.
“I’m not exactly PG-13,” Colson’s smirking when you look at him, and his gaze meets yours and what does that tone mean and why are you reading into this all of a sudden.
“So I suppose you were on your best behavior that night?” You ask, voice innocent, though you can feel yourself getting flustered. His smirk grows wider.
“Only for Douglas’ sake.”
And then your name’s called for the pizzas and the mood vanishes and Colson just asks if you can send him a link when you put up the video; you tell him you can send him it before it’s published, just to make sure he’s happy with it, and he gives you this genuine smile that you feel warm your heart, just a little.
But it’s when you publish the video that all hell breaks loose.
Having a famous brother is one thing. Having a famous brother is allowed. Knowing someone famous is clout chasing, is gold digging, is not allowed according to the internet. Making someone famous laugh is downright illegal, surely he can do better than you. Because with the views come assumptions, and your burgeoning crush aside, they’re baseless. You’ve known him for three weeks. Twenty one and a half days in total. Flirting aside, the internet doesn’t know shit.
It still hurts.
The video kind of blows up, because everyone loves relatively harmless drunk celebrity shenanigans, and Colson’s kind of been blowing up recently between his music, and his upcoming film Bird Box. So now there’s invasive questions and death threats filling up your DMs on every platform, and along with a new influx of followers comes a new wave of toxicity. You know how to deal with people accusing you of using your brother for clout, but this is a whole other level.
“So you’re with Colson,” Douglas looks smug when you answer your door on the day after the video drops. Though quick to defend yourself, there’s already tears in your eyes having had little sleep from the stress of everything that had happened, his smug aura drops and he wraps you up in a hug. “Hey, I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” his voice is soothing and level as he walks you back into your room, closing your door.
“You’re an ass,” you tell him, sulkily, but you hug him back.
“I’m sorry,” he tells you in earnest.
“I’m gonna get fired-”
“You’re not gonna get fired, Duck, you didn’t break your NDA, you didn’t break YouTube’s terms of service, you bleeped out all the swearing, you had an alcohol disclaimer at the start; this is the fans and the media blowing things way out of proportion.” He assures as you sniffle, still hugging him tightly.
“They’re gonna fire me,” you murmur, voice a soft, sad whine.
“They’re not.”
This is the point at which your phone starts to go off; someone’s calling you, and the caller ID says it’s Colson. He must have just woken up.
“He okay-ed the video, didn’t he?” Douglas asks, and you nod. “Then he won’t be mad; he’s dealt with this shit more than us, you know?” He gently pushes you towards the phone where it’s sitting on your bed, and steps back. “I’m gonna give you and your boyfriend some space,” and it’s teasing again, his grin sharp as he ducks out of the way of the pillow you throw.
“Asshole!” You yell after him. Once’s he’s out of the room, however, you take a moment to compose yourself before picking up the phone.
“Hey, I’m so sorry -” you start, but Colson seems surprised to hear your apology.
“Nah, Ducky, don’t worry about it, I called to apologise to you; if I’m ever seen with a chick everyone thinks I’m dating her, I should have realised, I should have -”
“No, I mean, I can’t post a video with a guy who’s not my brother without five different tea channels claiming I’m in love,” you laugh, trying to hide your distress. An awkward silence follows, in which you sniffle, and reopen your laptop.
“I am really sorry,” Colson says, and there’s regret in his voice that you hadn’t expected. “If I could get them to all shut the fuck up, I would; you shouldn’t be all torn up over my shit.”
Something about what he says plays in your mind over the next few days, watching, subdued in rehearsals. The rest of the cast ask if your alright, sympathizes with you, all of them having had run-ins with the media in one way or another. Josy, in her own way, sympathizes too, in that she doesn’t treat you any differently, she doesn’t pity you. She, like you, like all of you, knows it will blow over. Probably.
“Hello,” your tone is so damn subdued, “hello and welcome back. I’m here today to address some rumours you may have heard. To all my new ducklings, hello. And to all my old, hello again.”
“They’re not gonna believe you if you deny it,” is how you greet Colson, barging into his room after rehearsals on a Wednesday. It had been a good day, things had calmed down somewhat online, but still gossip rags were still going hard, seeing as the paparazzi had managed to spot the two of you together during a break in rehearsals.
“Yeah, no, they generally don’t,” he says flatly, frowning a little as he closes the door, running with whatever train of thought you were on.
“Then don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Deny it.”
Silence.
“Are you asking me out?” He actually wears a little smile at that, but you fix him with a serious look, not even a hint of a joke in your tone or expression.
“Yes, because we’re twelve,” you rolled your eyes, tone so flat it’s almost comical, before you snap “- fucking no I’m not asking you out -” the thought had crossed your mind several times before shit had hit the fan, but there was no way in hell he’d genuinely want you now; you both came with a mob of crazed fans, and a sweet, if fake relationship with an amicable end would be far easier to manage than crazed rumors, “I’m fake asking you out. If you’d have me, I want to date you to get our fans to calm down.”
“How?!” He splutters, both confused and overwhelmingly amused. “That’d never work.”
“If we tell them we’re together, and we’re both working on projects, the industry won’t see either of as distracted by outside sources; we talk up how we’re supporting one another through this process, and that if our fans ever wanted what’s best for us, they’d support us too.”
“You’d...” he swallows hard, though he’s certainly contemplating the thought, “you’d still get death threats, you know that-”
“I get death threats when I don’t post feet pics;” you snorted dismissively, and his eyebrows rose, “I can handle them, but if you said this made you happy, well I think a majority of your fans would calm down. Stan-culture is weird and frightening, but a lot of them, most of them,” you corrected yourself, “want what’s best for you.”
“You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?” And he’s smiling now, watching you with something that almost resembles admiration in his eyes.
“Tell me you haven’t had a hundred tweets yelling about how you’ve corrupted me,” you cock your hip, and he casts a glance to his phone, before admitting he has, “well if I go back to posting non-drunk content with you in it, they’ll die down, I guarantee it.”
“What about your brother?”
“He’ll support me no matter what, it’ll be more believable if he, you know, believes it.” You hold out your hand, waiting. There’s an almost intimidating spark in your eyes, a focus that Colson hasn’t seen before. “Are you in?”
“Yeah, fuck it, why not,” and he shakes your hand, firm, grinning brightly.
“I’m here to address some rumours regarding my...” you took a deep breath, “boyfriend.”
#mgk#mgk imagine#mgk x reader#colson baker#colson baker x reader#colson baker imagine#douglas booth#douglas booth imagine#the dirt#the dirt cast#the dirt cast imagine#the dirt image#the angry lizard writes
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Somebody To You: 6
Friendly reminder to please Like and/or Reblog. It helps more than you think! :)
This chapter is more of a filler, but it’s got some really important details in it.
Word Count: 2,857
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CHAPTER SIX
It’s been a long two weeks. Between work and friends, Zoey didn’t feel like she had any days off to relax. Ever since their double date, Brett and Zoey have been hanging out a lot more. It seemed like he was over practically every day to hang out with her and her roommates. He’d occasionally come over before his shift started, but more often than not it was late at night after she got off to have a game night, and Nancy and Rory would wait up for them to join. The girls quickly became fond of him and formed a friendship much like hers with Harry.
They were all constantly making plans to hang out, and although she had so much fun with them, Zoey felt like she rarely had a moment to herself anymore. The only time she felt like she had a minute to breathe or think was her morning phone calls with Harry. Sure, they texted occasionally throughout the day, but that phone call was the time when both of them could sit down, talk, and reflect on what was going on in their lives.
Harry seemed to be going through a rough patch. She missed him before he left the last time he came out as he had to be up super early the following morning so he didn’t miss his flight, but he did call Zoey when he landed to fill her in on the details of the conversation she caught him and Rory having.
Rory was honest with him and told him how she felt. She liked him, but she didn’t want to be with someone who wasn’t sure if they wanted to be with her. She understood his hesitation because of his past experiences with relationships while on tour, but she didn’t appreciate being grouped in the same category with his exes. She told Harry that she had no problem waiting if that’s what he wanted, but only if he was sure he wanted her. Otherwise, he’s just wasting her time.
“I’m not giving you an ultimatum or making you choose right this second because that’s not fair,” Rory said to him, “I’ll give you some space and time to figure it out. We can still talk and be friendly in the meantime, but I’m not going to wait forever.”
No one could fault her, and Zoey respected the hell out of her for standing her ground and noticing her own self-worth, but Harry was really struggling to decide what he wanted to do. To him, it wasn’t as simple as it was for most people. He has eyes on him at all times. Not only does he have to navigate the ups and downs of a relationship, but he has to do so in the public eye. He had to find a way to protect the sanctity of his relationship from the press and people with malicious intent and he had to somehow find a way to shield his partner from negative media and online attention because the hate is inevitable. To him, relationships were terrifying.
Zoey helped by listening to his rants and concerns, offering bits of advice, but always remaining neutral. No matter how many times Harry asked her what he should do, Zoey refused, telling him it was his decision to make while always reminding him to stop overthinking everything and to live the life he wanted without worrying about what might go wrong. Easy for her to say. She’s not famous.
Luckily, Rory kept her word in not putting any pressure on him to make a decision. They still spoke and flirted every now and then, though it wasn’t as often as before. Most of their conversations these days consisted of work-related things or Rory filling him in on all of the fun she was having with the girls, Andy, and Brett. She was spending a lot more time with Zoey’s new friends, and from what Rory said, it sounded like Zoey was having a lot of sleepless nights with Brett.
Zoey’s sex life was never really a topic of discussion when they spoke. She never really went into detail or stayed on the subject no matter how much Harry tried to pry. Of course, he knew they saw each other, but the only reason he knew when Brett spent the night was because Nancy or Rory mentioned hanging out with him and how he stayed over. During their text conversations, Zoey always seemed so nonchalant and never alluded to the fact that Brett was even there. She didn’t care to talk about their ‘relationship’ much, and he couldn’t tell if it was because she was trying to hide the fact that she was actually falling for him, or because she really didn’t care and it was just as casual as she intended it to be. The only thing Harry managed to get out of her was that she wasn’t a fan of his kissing. Either way, she was great at keeping her private life private, which was something he respected, all things considered.
Finally, it was Friday, and the last week of May, so Andy, Brett, and Zoey decided to go to the beach early in the morning so they had enough time before work tonight. Nancy and Rory tagged along, for once not having any work they needed to do. The sun beamed brightly, not a cloud in sight. It was only 80 degrees. Not too hot, not too cold. It was the perfect beach day. Andy helped Zoey apply suntan lotion to her back as Nancy and Rory sprayed each other down and Brett didn’t bother, laying out everyone’s towels on the hot, golden sand beside their beach bags.
At first, the group stayed on their towels, letting the sun warm up their skin and adjust to the temperatures. Eventually, Nancy, Zoey, and Andy made their way to the water, leaving Brett and Rory to tan. They eased their way into the ocean until waist level, waves whipping at their hips. An hour in and they had gotten more comfortable, diving underwater, laughing as they pretended to be mermaids, screeching whenever seaweed brushed against their legs and sputtering as the salty water had gotten into their mouths. Rory and Brett had finally joined them, but it didn’t take long before they all headed back to their setup, letting the sun dry them off.
The beach had always been Zoey’s happy place. She had always been the happiest in the water. It’s why she was on the swim team in school and why she frequently slept at Jess’s house to enjoy her pool. Her parents used to call her their little fish when she was a kid because she could be in the water all day. Jess was the first to get her license, and every day off in the summer since Jess turned sixteen, she’d drive the two of them to the beach just for Zoey. It was nearly a three-hour drive just to get there. They’d be up and out the door by 6 AM just so they could be there by 9, and wouldn’t leave until long after the sun had set just to do it all over again the next day. Every now and then they’d get lucky enough to rent a hotel, but they never complained about the drive. It was worth it to Jess if it made Zoey happy. It became their tradition to see how many times they could make it down to the beach in one summer and if they could top it. It’s been a year since she’s been to the beach. And it’s just as amazing as she remembers it being.
Brett had brought a football and they all were tossing it around to each other in an unofficial game of football. Zoey screamed as he ran up, scooping her into his arms and tackling her into the sand, laughing as sand shot up into their face from the impact on the ground and covered their bodies.
“Absolutely not! I saved that!” Zoey exclaimed, lightly smacking Brett’s sweaty, back as he pushed himself off of her.
“Tell that to the ball on the ground,” Brett shot back, panting and scooping a heaping pile of sand onto her stomach in retaliation causing Andy and Rory to laugh.
A ringtone was heard in the distance by their towels and Nancy called back, “Someone’s phone is ringing!” as she jogged towards their stuff, rummaging through the bags. She pulled out Zoey’s phone, looked at the screen and held it up, calling, “It’s Harry!”
“Answer it!” Zoey called back, standing up and dusting the sand off of herself.
Nancy plopped down on the towels as everyone slowly caught their breath, making their way over towards her. She answered the phone on speaker and put on her best stern voice, “How come you never call me?”
“Who’s this?” she heard Harry’s muffled voice from a few feet away, “Nancy?”
“I’m clearly Susan Sarandon. You can’t tell by my voice?” she joked as Andy, Brett, and Rory had sat around her, the rumble of voices and children laughing surrounding them.
Harry laughed, ignoring her, “That’s a lie. I just called you yesterday!”
“That’s true. What’s up?”
“Nothing much, going to be heading to soundcheck soon. Where’s Zoey?”
“Here!” Zoey called, finally reaching the edge of the towels, hovering over everyone.
“Where are you? It sounds loud?” Harry asked.
“We’re at the beach,” Nancy spoke, “Everyone’s here except you. Me, Zoey, Rory, Andy, and Brett.”
“Am I on speaker?”
“Yeah, say hi!”
The group sang a chorus of greetings while Harry responded an almost shy “hello” back. Zoey smiled, extending her hand out and grabbing her phone as Nancy passed it over to her. She placed it to her chest and turned to Brett, softly saying, “Hey, I’m getting hungry. Can you grab us some lunch? I’ll pay you back.”
“Yeah, no worries. I can pay. Anyone want to come with?”
“I’ll go!” Nancy offered, standing up.
“Yeah, I’ll help,” added Rory.
Andy scoffed, “My ass is staying right here. But I will take a slice of pepperoni pizza, please,” he slid his sunglasses back onto the bridge of his nose and slid back onto his beach chair.
As soon as the three were off, Zoey took her phone off speaker and brought it to her ear, walking towards the dunes where there were fewer people and it was slightly quieter.
“Sorry, I’m here,” she spoke, “they’re gone.”
“No, it’s okay. I didn’t mean to interrupt. You can get back to them.”
“Shut up,” Zoey laughed, dragging her feet in the sand as she spoke, “What’s up?”
“We were going over the next few cities we’ll be in, and guess where I’ll be next weekend,” Harry said excitedly.
“New York?” Zoey guessed.
“Well, yeah. But I’ll also be in Philadelphia next Saturday.”
“Philly?” Zoey gasped, halting in her tracks, “You’ll be maybe twenty minutes from my family.”
“It’s that close? Where did you live?”
Zoey sat in the sand, knees to her chest, and told Harry about her hometown and where she grew up. She scooped sand in her free hand and watched as it fell to the ground like a sand shower as she recalled memories of her and Jess running around their town as teenagers and all of the trouble they got into. And Harry listened, interested in every detail.
Somehow they got onto the subject of Zoey’s past childhood boyfriends, where she had her first kiss and her first heartbreak. This eventually led to a conversation about Brett. It’s not that she avoided talking about Brett, but there was nothing to really say about him. They hung out. They screwed. That was it for the most part. Except there was a little news about him this time.
“He asked me on another date,” Zoey informed him.
“What, a double date again?”
“No, one on one.”
Harry paused in thought before speaking, “I’m confused. I don’t get what’s going on between you two.”
Zoey laughed, “I don’t either.”
He continued, “I mean, you say it’s just a casual thing. Hanging out and fucking around. So what’s the point in going on a date if that’s all it is? Or is it more than that?”
Zoey pursed her lips and blew hard, making a horse snorting sound before groaning and resting her head on her forearm that was resting on her knees, “I don’t know. I don’t think it’s more than that, but it seems like it’s getting more serious. I mean he stays over so often we should start charging him rent. I feel like I see him more than Nancy and Rory between work and home.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Harry asked, curiously.
“I don’t know,” she whined, sitting back up, “The girls love him and he’s a lot of fun. And he’s getting better at the kissing thing. I mean, don’t get me wrong, there’s still work to do, but he gets the job done if you know what I mean. Oh my god, speaking of,” Zoey started cackling to herself, “we got caught yesterday.”
“What do you mean ‘you got caught’?” Harry chuckled at the vagueness.
“At work.”
“At work?!” Harry repeated, the sound of shuffling could be heard from his end as if he had quickly sprung up from a seat.
She nodded to herself, wiping away a tear that teetered at the corner of her eye, which was probably a mistake because she now felt sand on her cheek, remembering the incident last night.
“Oh shit! My bad!” Andy apologized to her, shoving the beer bottles he carried into the crook of her arm and wiping at the wet spot he had left on Zoey’s black shirt when he collided into her after she suddenly appeared from the storage closet. “I was looking for you. You alright? You look like you’ve been crying.” He asked, noticing her flushed face and loose strands of hair dangling from her messy bun.
The storage closet door suddenly opened beside them and Brett stepped out, forehead beaded with sweat, hair tousled, lips red raw, straightening out his shirt. Brett paused when he saw the two standing there, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. Andy’s eyes shot between the two as realization sunk in and he groaned.
“Jesus Christ!” Andy whispered, “Y'all are nasty!”
Brett chuckled and winks as he scooted past them, returning to the busy bar to finish off his shift.
“Sorry, Andy!” Zoey sheepishly smiled, biting her lip.
Andy shook his head, laughing in amusement, “At least one of us has a good sex life. Fix your hair. You look crazy,” he walked away.
Zoey shook her head, snapping back to the present and she chortled, trying to stifle her laughter as she looked over to see all of her friends back on the towels and enjoying their lunch together.
“It was just a quickie in the storage closet, but we ran into Andy on the way out and it was super embarrassing. I mean, at least it was just Andy and not our manager, but still,” she explained.
“You couldn’t wait a few hours?” Harry laughed.
Zoey giggled, “You gotta do what you gotta do.”
The two finished catching up and Zoey wished him good luck before ending the phone call and heading back to her friends. There was a slight burning feeling on her shoulder blade as the suntan lotion began to wear off and knew she’d have a sunburn tonight. She tossed her phone back in the beach bag and took a spot between Nancy and Rory while the group had laughed about something Andy had said.
Andy looked over at Zoey and smiled at her grin, “You and Harry talk a lot,” he noted.
“Yeah,” Zoey nodded, picking up her slice of pizza that had now cooled down, though had a little dusting of sand on the top, “We’ve been through a lot of similar situations, so it’s easy to talk to him about it.”
Andy nodded, understandingly, being the only one that knew of Jess. Aurora nodded in agreement, “I like how quickly our little friend group formed and how well we all get along.”
Nancy laughed, “Could you imagine we all hated each other?”
“Imagine them thinking I don’t hate them,” Andy joked, turning towards Zoey and scoffing which caused Nancy to pounce on him.
This caused an all-out war and Zoey laughed as Nancy chased Andy towards the water and Brett had practically dragged Rory behind them, letting Zoey finish her lunch, happy to be with friends. But she couldn’t help to feel that pang of sadness as she thought about how much Jess would have loved to be apart of this, too.
The realization hit, nearly knocking the wind out of her. In just over a week it would be Jess’s birthday. The one year anniversary of her best friend’s death. And the happiness she felt just moments before was replaced with gloom. How was she going to manage this?
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#Harry Styles#Harry styles imagine#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#harry styles oneshot#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fan fic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fan fiction#one direction#one direction smut#one direction imagine#one direction fanfic
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Emily Deschanel on Biggest 'Bones' Lessons, Working With David Boreanaz and Returning to TV
June 04, 2019 9:45am PT by Jean Bentley
The actress formerly known as Temperance Brennan is returning to television in TNT's 'Animal Kingdom,' and discusses the evolution of her career with The Hollywood Reporter.
When Emily Deschanel graduated from theater school, she planned to spend her career doing off-Broadway shows and the occasional indie film. The actress, who is best known for the 12 years she spent starring on Fox procedural Bones, chuckled on the phone while remembering those early career goals.
"I remember somebody laughing at me, like, 'OK, if you never want to make any money, then great,'" she told The Hollywood Reporter.
While her earliest credited parts include small roles in not-so-indie films including Cold Mountain, Glory Road and The Alamo, Deschanel's big break came after being cast in Stephen King's ABC miniseries Rose Red. A couple of pilot seasons later and she was the No. 2 on the call sheet for Bones, behind former Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel star David Boreanaz, where she'd spend the next decade-plus of her life.
Two years after her Fox drama ended, Deschanel now finds herself headed back to television in a recurring role on TNT's crime family drama Animal Kingdom. While she spent 12 years playing forensic anthropologist and straight-laced FBI collaborator Temperance Brennan on Bones, she's on the other side of the law as recovering addict Angela on Animal Kingdom.
Deschanel spoke with The Hollywood Reporter about her nearly two decades in Hollywood — including following in the footsteps of her younger sister, Zoey Deschanel (their parents are both in the industry; their father is the Oscar-nominated cinematographer Caleb Deschanel and their mother is Twin Peaks actor Mary Jo Deschanel), working with occasionally difficult co-workers, the Bones lawsuit that has made her wary of signing contracts, and deciding to return to the small screen after a hiatus.
When did you start acting?
When I was growing up I always wanted to be an architect, for whatever reason. I guess it's the perfect blend of art and math and science, which, to me, was really appealing. But then I went to Crossroads for high school and I discovered theater and discovered acting, and I really loved doing it. I think I wouldn't have become an actor if I hadn't gone to the conservatory at Boston University for theater. You get to do four plays a year there, and I think I wouldn't have had the experience to give me the confidence to pursue being an actor after college if I hadn't done something like that. Of course, I look back and wish I'd gone to a liberal arts school and got a more well-rounded education, but there's always time to educate yourself, I guess. I think it was probably the right path for me because it gave me the experience, it gave me the confidence to try and pursue acting. My sister was already [acting]. She was always a natural performer, so she didn't need an external source to tell her she could pursue something.
I just loved theater, I loved to study, I loved Shakespeare. I'm the kid that went to Shakespeare camp three years in a row. Of course when I left school I was like, "I'm going to do Off-Broadway theater only and maybe independent film. And that's all." I remember somebody laughing at me, like, "Okay, if you never want to make any money, then great." It was such a specific thing. I can't say that I had a grand plan of what my career would be. Clearly I had one idea that changed completely, and I've done television for many years.
I moved back to L.A. after a period of time in New York and I finally got representation that sent me out. I had representation in New York but I think I got zero auditions for a whole year, so I was just working in a restaurant there, but it was still fun. A few months in, I think it was six months after moving back, I got this miniseries: Stephen King's Rose Red. Such a big job to get, where I was in Seattle for many months and it was so exciting to me. It was not a main character but it was a character that was in the show a lot. It was so much fun and I quickly loved being a complete sellout. [Laughs] I met one of my best friends, Melanie Lynskey, on that. We're still so close. I love the camaraderie with the actors — I love working on set and being on location too, you get to know people even more because you're kind of stuck in a place far away. I loved it.
Then I did a pilot after that and I did a Law & Order: SVU, so my first several jobs were all in television, and then I did some independent films and small parts in other films.
What was it like when Bones came along? It was probably exciting to book a pilot, but obviously at the time you have no idea that it's going to last more than a decade.
I had zero idea, and that was not my plans for things, either. I had done a couple pilots before and this was towards the end of the pilot season, or the end of their casting of the show, and I got a call to come in and audition for it. I met with Hart Hanson, who created the show; Barry Josephson, the producer; Greg Yaitaines, who was directing it. They laughed at my jokes, so I thought they were really nice people. Especially Hart Hanson loved my stupid jokes, so I'll always remember that.
I remember loving the dialogue between the two characters, really quick witty repartee, and I liked that relationship. I liked that it was a strong female character. When you sign on to do a TV show you have to think about the long term, especially in the beginning when you're doing the pilot, what kind of message you're putting out there for people. Of course this is like the opposite of now what I'm doing — Animal Kingdom is like the worst thing that could ever happen to a person for what you put out there. On Bones it was a different show. Younger people watched it, so you have to think about young girls watching the show and seeing female role models and scientists who are really smart and accomplished in their careers, and are successful.
I thought about all of that and I really responded to the script, and then I met David Boreanaz. He already had the part when I auditioned for it. I remember thinking, Oh, this could last us three years. That would be the longest I could ever in a million years imagine that it could ever last. And then it kept going and going and it was a lot of fun, with some great people. I look back with such fondness.
I [spoke with] a friend recently who was an actor on the show as well, and he was saying, "You seem so might lighter than when you were on the show!" And I'm looking back on it thinking I was so easy-breezy but apparently I was like "I will stress out about every single thing that I could possibly stress out about." It's a lot to be the lead of a television show. It's a lot of responsibility and it's an honor, but you do have to set a tone for a set, and there's pressure to keep the show going and be good. There's all kinds of things that I was probably holding on to that I wasn't realizing, and I look back just remembering all the fun times we had on set with the other actors — like the times in between when they say "cut" and before they say "action" — and of all the conversations we had. I look back thinking I was so easy-breezy but was usually very stressed about everything.
She's also a character who is not very emotional, so you probably also had to tamp down your own feelings more when you were playing her.
Yeah, that's true. I remember the first season doing takes where there was some things that were super upsetting. I remember there was an episode about a girl in foster care and my character was supposed to be in foster care and I was just bawling crying. We couldn't use any of it. I was so upset but my character was so cut off emotionally. I loved, like I was saying, that we had these strong female characters. Hart Hanson, who created it, was a feminist himself and we talked about how my character would never be saved by the male lead until I saved him first. We had things like that, and my favorite thing ever was when I met young girls who said they wanted to become scientists or they were in the process of studying science because of watching the show. That just makes me so happy that we had that kind of impact on people in such a positive way.
What was it like working with David Boreanaz, who had come off of a decade of successful shows with Buffy and Angel? What was it like for you as a relative newcomer to be paired up with someone who can be notoriously prickly sometimes?
No comment. [Laughs.] No, he was very respectful of me. He respected me from the very beginning, and I will always appreciate that. We had a great relationship. I had worked for several years but I'd never been a regular on a TV show before, so it was very new to me. He never tried to tell me what to do, never tried to school me in any way or make me feel like I didn't belong or like I was learning and new. We went to an acting coach, so we basically had therapy every week together which is kind of hilarious, in certain ways, 'cause we would talk about our lives as well in the sessions.
We also had an agreement: We spent more time with each other than we did with our own spouses — with anybody else, really — and we fully acknowledged that we would drive each other crazy. We gave each other permission to walk away at different times, or just say "you're really bothering me right now," or "you're annoying me, I have to get away from you." And we rarely used that because we gave each other permission and we talked about it. It really helped us to get along better in that way, and he always respected me and I love that about him. We would laugh about a million things and he became like a brother and played jokes on me and stuff. For some reason it became a joke that if someone was acting badly, you give them a Diet Coke. I don't drink soda, so if somebody brought me a Diet Coke, I knew it was because he would tell a PA to bring me a Diet Coke as a joke. I didn't do that to him every often. He was more of the mischievous one of the two of us for sure, but we had a lot of good times together.
That sounds like a healthy way to approach that type of relationship.
People have work husbands and work wives at their jobs. I think that's not uncommon, but it takes it to another level playing opposite each other and being married to each other, for sure.
You and David still have a lawsuit pending against Fox for withholding profits from the show. Is there anything you can say about what you learned from that whole experience, and how it has impacted your deals going forward, or even advice to other actors dealing with that issue?
I can't really talk about it because it's still going on. It's not over. I would love to talk about it at some point, but I can't talk about it now. I can talk about it with my friends, but I can't talk to the [press] about it. We can talk in a couple of years. It makes me nervous to sign a contract.
What's your biggest takeaway from your experience on Bones?
Oh, there's so much. I loved playing that character for 12 years. I loved the people I worked with, not just the cast but the crew. I loved telling the stories. I loved all of it. For me, going forward, I just don't want to do the same thing twice. At this point, I have no interest in doing 22 episodes of a television show. I want to play different characters, I'm open to anything — I'm not going to say that I'm not doing television because I'm currently filming television, but I'm not a series regular. That was a plus to me going in. I have flexibility. When you're a guest star you can come and go, and there's no contract, which is great going into my first job after doing Bones. And I don't want to take too much time away from my kids. So that's basically how I see things now, but I'm not anti-television by any means. It really is the golden age of television right now; there's so many amazing things going on, so many stories that are being told, and people doing it so well. I would never write off doing television.
You produced and directed on Bones, is that something you want to do more?
Yeah, all of it. I loved being a producer on Bones. It gives you a say in things, and I really appreciated that. Directing I really loved, and I'm very much interested in doing more of that in my life, but it takes up time. It depends on the time and finding the right project, because you don't want to spend all that time producing or directing something that isn't something you are completely passionate about. It's about finding the right project, and the right timing, with family and everything, I could do that again.
Your character on Animal Kingdom is very different than we've seen you play in the past.
I was really interested in having the conversation about addiction. The character is a recovering heroin addict, and this is a big issue in our country right now. This is a character you're seeing enter the show at rock bottom: She's just come out of prison, she's got nowhere to live, and she's trying to establish herself. This is a character who is sensitive to things, has seen everything in life, has done all kinds of things in her life, like a lot of people who have dealt with addiction have. This is a character who is a survivor. She's trying to find her way in the world and she's doing to do whatever it takes to establish herself to get what she needs, basically.
So she might come across as manipulative. She always has the reasons for doing what she does, but that's like all the characters on the show. They're like criminals, addicts, sociopaths,and she fits in with all that. My character is the best friend of Ellen Barkin's character's daughter so I've known the family for years and years and years, and I see it as an opportunity for myself to get in with the family and see what I can get out of it.
It sounds like there might be a throwdown between Angela and Smurf, Ellen Barkin's character.
Yeah, my character and her character did not like each other. I blame her for her daughter's death, and she blames me, essentially. There's no hiding how we feel about each other. It gets very intense between the two characters for sure. I'm the woman coming in for her territory and I move in to her house. She is not happy about that. I can't say that there's a throw-down fight between us, but it gets intense. Which is always uncomfortable because I love Ellen Barkin so much as a person and as an actor, so I hate the fact that our characters don't get along. But at least we get along off camera!
Animal Kingdom airs Tuesdays at 9 p.m. on TNT.
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Questionnaire - Essie
I got bored and filled this out
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1) Does your character have siblings or family members in their age group? Which one are they closest with?
No; Essätha is the eldest of four, and does not know her other siblings. The closest sibling in age range to her is in their early twenties, about a decade’s age gap. The closest sibling-like relations she has is with a Tiefling she grew up with back home, who is roughly 5(?) or more years older than her.
2) What is/was your character’s relationship with their mother like?
Hepsiba was supermom and idol to Essie. Essie adored, and still adores, her mom. Hepsiba displayed a constant generous, open-minded, warm attitude that helped to shape a lot of Essie’s values. They got along wonderfully, and even as a youngster Ess’ showed a lot of respect and willingness to listen to her mothers words of wisdom.
3) What is/was your character’s relationship with their father like?
The same as it was as a child as it is now: nonexistent. In Essätha’s heart however, there is a lot of bitterness towards a man who left her and her ailing mother behind, also leaving her to learn little to nothing about him save through stories.
4) Has your character ever witnessed something that fundamentally changed them? If so, does anyone else know?
Oh, plenty. The treatment of her and others like her (Solace, her mother, non-humans automatically defined as ‘evil’ races), the death of her mother, deaths in general (sometimes that she blames on herself), so on. I’m sure some party members have a vague understanding her distance and seclusion is branched off of bad treatment due to her race, for instance. Some folks; like Sol and Kraw, could probably identify quite a few of Essie’s ‘flaws’ and where they steam from. Amon is beginning to learn more and more about some of her ‘quirks’ too.
5) On an average day, what can be found in your character’s pockets?
Lint, spare coins not put in her coin purse, a Green Bean, maybe something sharp and pointy that could be used for lock-picking or stabbing someone’s hand lol. Spare hair ribbon probably too.
6) Does your character have recurring themes in their dreams?
👀
7) Does your character have recurring themes in their nightmares?
Huehuehue… Pre-campaign I think Ess’ had more dreams centered around the loss of her mom and people hunting her and/or attacking her, belittling her, blaming her for all the wrong in the world. Some were personal, based off people she ‘failed’, killed, or feel she killed/wronged. Now I’m sure when she has a night terror it’s probably geared more towards the Raven Lord, Alexis’ and the wolves, the assassins breaking in, seeing her party members hurt/troubled, seeing the hurt and fear in Amon’s gaze, seeing him jailed, imagining all the things that could go wrong and losing m’lord… >:3c You know. Normal Nightmare Stuff nothing to be Concerned about.
8) Has your character ever fired a gun? If so, what was their first target?
I’m going to change ‘gun’ to ‘bow’ becuz fantasy. Ess’ is trained in both a regular bow and a crossbow. Her first ever bow-related target outside of hitting a fucking tree was killing a deer, per Kraw’s orders. Lots of tears shed over the damn deer. Lots of tearshed over learning to hunt in general rip my baby.
9) Is your character’s current socioeconomic status different than it was when they were growing up?
Pretty much the same. Money is probably more readily available in Essätha’s life. Pre-campaign likely because of the occasional pick-pocketing. Now becuz she gets paid for kicking butt. Keep it up girl.
10) Does your character feel more comfortable with more clothing, or with less clothing?
Situational based. Weirdly the less you know her, the more exposed Ess’ is willing to be, because, hey, when are you going to see her again? She might be nervous or edgy in crowds but otherwise w/e man. A lil more skin sometimes gets the gurl you know what I’m sayin’…. The more acquainted she is with someone, the more she fears ridicule, staring, judgment, and the more she wants to hide herself. Give her lots of time to gain confidence, and build trust, and she’d probably be okay being naked around you… so long as you aren’t obviously oogling her. Unless you’ve ahem, earned that level of faith from her where she wants your eyes on her.
11) In what situation was your character the most afraid they’ve ever been?
I would say there’s four instances that stand out the most. One, the first night alone as a toddler after her mother passed away. Two, her first murder, in which she thought she was going to die therefore killed in self-defense. Three, learning that the Raven Lord is probably some kind of god or demi-god being seeing how they killed the Master Arcanist. And four… ‘Not him. You can’t take him.’ …Use your imagination.
12) In what situation was your character the most calm they’ve ever been?
As a babe, listening to mom sing her to sleep… and at night, in Amon’s arms, when all hope feels lost and then they snuggle up and it just… it’s okay. They can deal with it tomorrow, one step at a time.
13) Is your character bothered by the sight of blood? If so, in what way?
No. She’s a lady of course not asdjgakl -
14) Does your character remember names or faces easier?
I’m gonna say faces, she seems more ‘creative inclined’ than ‘analytic inclined’.
15) Is your character preoccupied with money or material possession? Why or why not?
Yes! But less so then she thinks. Due to a life of lacking these things, Essätha thinks owning lots of fancy, expensive things will fill a void inside her. She also believes having money and a big house will give her a sign she’s ‘made it’; that she’s secure, that she’s above what everyone says about her… At the same time, fearing it, because of the additional ridicule it may bring (“ah, a Yuan-Ti Pureblood with riches and power?? Must be after Something.”)
16) Which does your character idealize most: happiness or success?
Happiness. It’s quite literally her dream. Sadly as stated above, she grew up thinking happiness was linked to the things you own but mm… she may be learning differently…
17) What was your character’s favorite toy as a child?
Mr. Hiss!! It was a homemade stuffed snake toy; couldn’t be more than a couple inches made of spare materials her mom had, and button eyes. She played with that thing till it was limp of stuffing, soiled, and raggedy but sadly a bratty kid tossed it into the town’s river so… no more Mr. Hiss. :( She’d have kept that toy all her life otherwise because it was so precious to her.
18) Is your character more likely to admire wisdom, or ambition in others?
Ambition. Because you can be ambitious to do a lot of things; become wiser, become stronger, become kinder. Being wise is cool, but having the drive to become more is sexy.
19) What is your character’s biggest relationship flaw? Has this flaw destroyed relationships for them before?
I’d say an inability to trust or commit. In terms of romantic relationships, she’s never held a significant one; mostly one-night stands or brief flings for a while before moving on; never wanted anything more than that. In terms of making friends, oh yeah. Being unwilling to open up or fully engage herself into the relationship has made people weary of her, her motives, and in turn close off from her. If you’re too scared to meet others half-way, eventually they give up on you.
20) In what ways does your character compare themselves to others? Do they do this for the sake of self-validation, or self-criticism?
In every way; looks, intelligence, status, etc. Mostly she does this as a way to degrade herself. ‘Oh she’s beautiful, and no awkward scaly patches’. ‘I shouldn’t have bothered speaking up, they clearly knows more on this subject.’ ‘Whoop look at the poor girl in rags compared to these guys Yikes-’. When she’s feeling Snobby and Righteous she might do it for the sake of validating her stance; such as being Right and making someone look stupid so she can gloat and grin smugly at them. More often then not though, she compares herself to make herself feel Worse.
21) If something tragic or negative happens to your character, do they believe they may have caused or deserved it, or are they quick to blame others?
Essätha is the Absol pokemon. If bad things occur, it is she who brought the rain, the drought, the heartache, the doubt, the misery. She’s a magnet for bad things and bad omens. It’s somehow her fault; something she said, or did, or a past mistake came back to haunt her and she screwed up, again.
22) What does your character like in other people?
Ooof, lol, well kind, gentle souls. People who have the ability to grow. Natural nurturers. Those who can be strong for others. Those strong in general; solid, comforting, in the ways that matter. Non-prejudice. Physically she’s got varied tastes; from thick and juicy to lean and swift.
23) What does your character dislike in other people?
Cruelty, judgment, those who take advantage of others, aka ugly on the inside. Physically she’s not into unhygienic individuals, doesn’t typically go for super scrawny or so many muscles they look like they’re in a constant flex.
24) How quick is your character to trust someone else?
To put it simply, given the chance, no one in the Hand of Jubata/Noisy Bastards would have found out she’s a Yuan-Ti until a super-necessary moment; or years later, if ever. She’s always hesitant to put trust into others. But she wants to believe the best outta people so if it comes down to basic trust and not trusting someone with secrets about her, she might be willing to give them the benefit of the doubt (unless she gets a Bad Insight off them).
25) How quick is your character to suspect someone else? Does this change if they are close with that person?
Pre-campaign she was just edgy and distrustful. Now during campaign, anyone could be part of those Whispered Shadow cult, so she suspects 50% of this continent at least is out to murder them. If she’s close with the individual, she’s more likely to deny it depending on likability-level. For example, if we found out Barnabus was part of this deranged group, she’d outright be like, “this information is false that sweet man??? I do not think so. You are Wrong.”
26) How does your character behave around children?
Essie loves kids. How she acts depends on their personality; she’s always careful, and soft, and endearing but if they’re shy, she understands they might want more space. If they’re eager and active, she’s even more bubbly and willing to play with them. Mom Genes(TM).
27) How does your character normally deal with confrontation?
Time to talk her way out of this shit and either help this person learn to amend their lives or talk them down. If you’re clearly a bad person, or she can’t change you’re mind, she’s willing to whoop your ass. Rather avoid it if possible though unless you’re a truly bad person.
28) How quick or slow is your character to resort to physical violence in a confrontation?
*gestures @ the campaign* dis bitch has tried or talked the group out of so many fights so??? Pretty slow.
29) What did your character dream of being or doing as a child? Did that dream come true?
I don’t think Essie had a ‘dream job’; she probably just wanted stability, some place to call her own, happiness, simplicity, life to be ‘normal’. That dream... really has not been achieved.
30) What does your character find repulsive or disgusting?
Lack of hygiene. Certain foods probs like liver and onions. Rotted corpses obviously. Chewing with mouth open. Idk, things normally others find gross?
31) Describe a scenario in which your character feels most comfortable.
She’s laying in a large, soft bed with oversized pillows and a dense, warm comforter draped over her. There’s arms wrapped around her. The blanket smells familiar; like leather and pine and a hint of rosewater. She wiggles around in the sheets; can feel another body shift as well to get in a better spot. There’s warm breath on the back of her neck, and a solid shape to her back keeping her warm. It’s safe here. Goosebumps race up her arms. She thinks she’ll take a nap. She can feel the calluses on fingers tracing over the back of her hand, then her palm, until they find the spaces between her own. It’s amazing how beautiful and calm the world can be. Time seems to stop here. Everything will be okay.
32) Describe a scenario in which your character feels most uncomfortable.
She is herself but not herself. She can pick up more acutely the ever; the scents, the vibrations in the air, it’s more intense. She can taste the fear in the air; the hate, the disgust. Her movements are jerky; slithering, the scales on her body a different texture moving over dirt and grass. They are judging her. They are sickened. She can see the look in their eyes, and she is exposed. She is a disgusting creature. The only thing to belittle herself more is to change back; naked, small. They know. They all know. She can’t imagine the way he’s looking at her; too scared to check and see. He would never look at her the same.
33) In the face of criticism, is your character defensive, self-deprecating, or willing to improve?
I feel it really depends on what she’s being criticized for. I want to say in most cases she’s probably embarrassed and/or humiliated, but willing to listen. She may openly self-deprecate and still request they express how she can do better. I feel she mostly gets defensive around people she doesn’t respect and whose criticism then wouldn’t matter; or around topics she feels she knows more about (or definitely knows more about) and she’s offended they suggest she does not.
34) Is your character more likely to keep trying a solution/method that didn’t work the first time, or immediately move on to a different solution/method?
If there’s no ‘time crunch’, she may try the same method a second time before moving on to a different tactic. If it’s a panicked or life-risked situation, and the first method doesn’t work, immediately move on to idea two.
35) How does your character behave around people they like?
Bubbly, excitable, warm and affectionate. She can be stubborn and grumpy still, but for the most part she tends to wear her heart more openly and be more wild and teasing.
36) How does your character behave around people they dislike?
Closed up, silent-treatment, narrowed eyes, huffy, clipped phrases, crude, hissy. Typically she’s a bit bitchy and waiting for an out to get away from you.
37) Is your character more concerned with defending their honor, or protecting their status?
Considering she has little status at the moment, probably her honor.
38) Is your character more likely to remove a problem/threat, or remove themselves from a problem/threat?
Essätha removes problems/threats… even if that problem/threat is herself.
39) Has your character ever been bitten by an animal? How were they affected (or unaffected)?
This is such a were-creature questions HEH uhh, I would not doubt Essie has been bitten by an animal before. Largely she probably forgives the critter and its species. It’s probably her own fault she got bitten after all and she realizes that.
40) How does your character treat people in service jobs?
Respect! If she sees you treatin’ a service job employee like trash you’re garbage to her. Those are hard working people trying to make a living whomst the fuck are you?
41) Does your character feel that they deserve to have what they want, whether it be material or abstract, or do they feel they must earn it first?
Pardon my hyena laughter but, Essätha doesn’t feel like she deserves much of anything. She certainly hasn’t earned to have what she wants. Maybe in time she’ll grow up a bit and learn it’s okay to have things; material or abstract, without feeling guilty or burdened. I’m sure at that time she’d feel she must earn it first.
42) Has your character ever had a parental figure who was not related to them?
*stares @ Kraw, Abernathy, Barnabus, etc* She seems to pick up plenty of Those.
43) Has your character ever had a dependent figure who was not related to them?
Mmm, I’m sure she’s temporarily looked after a younger person or taught someone here or there, yeah. Not for a significant span of time (not to say she probably hasn’t left a positive impact on others that haven’t forgotten her though).
44) How easy or difficult is it for your character to say “I love you?” Can they say it without meaning it?
Oh ho ho ho~ I don’t think Ess’ has said that phrase to more than two people her whole life. It’s definitely not something she could say without meaning to. I can imagine her trying to say it to persuade someone to do something she wants but she just stands there, tongue-tied, unable to do so. It’s just three words, but it’s three very powerful words that can do a lot of good or evil. She wouldn’t want to abuse them or, make people lose faith in them (likeshehascoughs). She doesn’t want people to conceive her as a liar for misusing it before. She wants to be able to say it with heart, conviction, and certainty to someone she truly cares for… if she could ever work up the courage to do so.
45) What does your character believe will happen to them after they die? Does this belief scare them?
I’ll admit: the afterlife isn’t probably something Essie thinks of often. I’d have to say believes in a heavenly ream, and hopes it will welcome her. I do believe she’s scared though because of her race, or any blemishes in her life she’s caused, that she fears she’s already got a one way ticket to hell.
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bug enthusiasm
A little fic on some Pokemon/Revue Starlight stuff. Gen, not really shippy or much of anything, tbh. There’s some kaotaba, I guess?
Anyways, please check out rosenkrone on ao3, their work is lovely and their Pokemon/Starlight fic and this AU inspired me to write my own take on things!
The sun is going down but the air is still uncomfortably muggy as they sit outside the dorms. Kaoruko is tired of fanning herself and she’s long since given up on more iced tea.The pitcher of iced tea is bordering room temperature now and it won’t be long before it turns into lukewarm tea.
For now a nap is a much better way to beat the heat and the boredom. She’s already half asleep in the chair when Ducklett startles her awake with a quack. Kaoruko sighs and yawns.
A rare little critter approaches Maya who’s reading in the chair beside her.
Maya's Ducklett quacks at it again from the patio. It chitters something back before it looks expectantly at Maya. Swablu on Maya’s shoulder regards it warily.
“That’s a Karrablast,” Kaoruko says at Maya’s raised eyebrow. “Haven’t you seen one before when you were in Unova? It’s a bug type that’s common there.”
“I didn’t have a Pokedex at the time,” Maya explains. Though despite having one now, Maya still doesn’t move to register it in her Pokedex. If it were some unknown bird Pokemon Kaoruko is sure she’d show more interest.
And if it weren’t so hot Kaoruko would be a bit more incensed that the relatively rare bug type is more interested in Maya than in herself; a patented bug connoisseur. It’s a bit insulting that the Pokemon isn’t naturally attracted to Kaoruko but she lets it go.
After all, Maya has been occasionally feeding Kaoruko’s Spinarak poffins this entire time. Surely the poffins have has caught this little critter’s attention and lured it over. Quite a bold little critter to come right up to them though, especially since it’s peak bug catching season.
Maya selects another poffin from the tin on the table. “Here.” She leans over her chair and the Karrablast happily takes the proffered poffin from her hand. Then it jumps onto Maya’s lap beside Spinarak and gets pecked at by Maya’s ever-territorial Swablu for it’s trouble.
Maya grunts as they start a fight right on top of her. Spinarak displeased by the competition joins the fray on Maya’s lap. Ducklett and Kaoruko watch unimpressed while Maya struggles to stop the stray wings and horns and legs from hitting her.
“Anyone would have seen this coming, you know. That bird of yours is always like this.” Kaoruko sighs and shakes her head. “Are you going to catch it for me, Tendou-han?”
Swablu whaps Maya in the face with a cottony wing. Kaoruko snickers.
“I don’t have Pokeballs,” Maya says after managing to pluck Spinarak off at least.
“A shame. Neither do I at the moment.” And it really is a shame, because Karrablast are almost never seen in cities like this one, except for a handful of rare days of summer when they swarm.
Briefly, Kaoruko considers going inside to get a Pokeball from someone, but that’s a bit too much work for her taste, despite the rarity of this Pokemon.
And also, the only people she actually knows are all out.
Maybe next year then. Kaoruko just gets more comfortable in her chair instead, taking a sip of her unpleasantly warming drink, as she watches the struggle. It’s a pretty passable way to pass time, if only for a short while.
Maya’s finally gotten her Swablu back in it’s Pokeball, and she's just about to drop the Karrablast off her lap, when a party returns.
Karen opens the gate with Hikari and Mahiru behind her, looking entirely too dejected. They’re all clearly exhausted though Mahiru is too polite to be dragging her feet like the other two are.
“Welcome back,” they say simultaneously.
Karen makes a muted wave at them but then she yells and points, forgoing a normally polite response.
She runs up to them with sudden haste, the bug catching net on her back wobbling wildly back and forth. She is still yelling the entire time. All signs of her exhaustion have evaporated from her.
Mahiru and Hikari approach at a much more lethargic pace, carrying equally empty cages with matching expressions of resignation.
“Karen-chan...why are you yelling?” Mahiru asks slowly. And then she sees the Karrablast on Maya’s lap. Mahiru yells in shock. “There it is!” She points to it while still holding a picnic basket in it. “It’s there! It’s right there, Karen-chan!”
Hikari blinks at it slowly.
“Is something wrong?” Maya asks.
“Goodness, what’s got you all up in a tizzy?” Kaoruko asks. “The Karrablast?”
“We’ve been looking for that all day! A Karrablast!” Karen shouts still pointing an almost accusing finger at the creature in question.
“There it is,” Hikari says dully. “A Karrablast.”
It seems like they had a rather disappointing bug hunting day.
“The heat brings out lots of bug type Pokemon,” Kaoruko starts, waving her fan at herself, “but despite being the season when they swarm, Shelmet and Karrablast are still fairly rare, especially in a city like Tokyo, you know?” She states rather matter-of-factly. “Even in the outskirts or suburbs you would have trouble. After all their habitat tends to be mostly wetlands.”
Ever the bug enthusiast, she knows all there is when it comes to them. Of course, if they wanted to go bug hunting, then like any respectable trainer they would have found out that out for themselves before heading out.
“Mh, there’s actually an area that was similar to their habitat,” Mahiru confirms with a sigh, finally dropping her finger. “We spent all weekday going out to places, as far as we could but we never found a Karrablast.”
“I guess Tendou-han’s just quite lucky then,” Kaoruko says side-eyeing the Karrablast in her lap. Despite the commotion and clamor it sits rather docilely. Such a friendly Karrablast. “Swarming season is ending, so you’re not likely to find one after today,” Kaoruko adds. “Well. Until next year that is.
Mahiru’s shoulders slump further. “Yeah.”
Hikari holds up a cage with a fussy looking Shelmet. “We got this one.”
“Ooh.” Kaoruko sits up beckoning her. Hikari brings it closer for Kaoruko to admire. “Quite, a lovely find.”
The sheen of it's armored chitin is a lustrous silver in the setting sun, a cut above most other Shelmet. Even though it surely sees the Karrablast — it’s natural enemy — neither of them look fussed. No flaring or aggression at all, though it would be natural behaviour in the wild to display aggression towards each other... Again, another surprisingly docile bug type. How well-mannered. Kaoruko hums appreciatively. “They’re perfect specimens!” She declares with a satisfied nod.
“You say that about all bug pokemon,” Mahiru comments with a smile. Well, it’s only fact.
Hikari raises the cage to inspect the Shelmet again, as if trying to understand it’s beauties. At least she’s trying.
“You have a perfectly lovely Pokemon,” Kaoruko reiterates. “You should show a deeper appreciation for the perfection that is bug types, Karen-han.”
“I know! It’s great it really is, I love snail stuff and bugs too but...I want that one!” Karen points again at the Karrablast in Maya lap. It looks utterly unfazed by the commotion. “Tendou-san! Please...trade it with me!”
“It’s not mine. You’re free to have it.”
Maya takes the Karrablast off her lap and gives it to Karen before she can even respond. It only looks mildly perturbed at being shuffled about.
“Yes! Tendou-san, thank you so much! I can't believe this! A Karrablast!” Karen spins it in her arms before stopping suddenly. “Here, I’ll give you this! A trade is only fair!”
Karen takes the caged Shelmet from Hikari, clearly intending to give it to Maya. This time, the Pokemon meet eyes and are clearly flaring.
“I don’t actually want it,” Maya says.
“Karen-han, if you do that then—”
“Wait, Karen-chan—”
“Karen—”
They evolve. Maya blinks at the strange new Pokemon sitting in the now too small cage on her lap. Karen is shocked by the Escavalier in her arms where a Karrablast used to be.
“W-what...my Karrablast..” Karen stares shocked at her Escavalier. The Escavalier pokes her in the head with one of it’s long lances. Karen drops back to her knees in despair.
“Ah, an Accelgor and Escavalier. Congratulations, you two.” Kaoruko says airily.
“You’re free to have it back, Aijou-san.” Maya opens the cage, letting Shelmet—now Accelgor exit. She has to shake it out of the tiny cage. It’s a bit stuck. It drops onto Karen’s lap, on its head before Karen helps it right itself.
Karen now sits with a Pokemon in each arm, both of them entirely too big for her.
Mahiru sighs. Hikari looks utterly unamused. They both head inside leaving Karen to mope.
“I’ll...be right there. Just give me a second,” Karen says. “I just need a second...to…process...”
“Yes, please reflect on your new acquisitions, Karen-han. It’s important to appreciate what you have.”
Ducklett takes the initiative to monopolize Maya’s lap. Idly, Maya pets it’s head. She’s already returned to her book, leaning back into her chair. She doesn’t care much for Karen’s despair and Kaoruko doesn’t really either.
Kaoruko relaxes back into her chair, hoping to catch a quick nap again. It’s almost pleasantly warm now with most of the sun having set. She’s just about to doze off when she hears a clattering at the gate again.
“Hey! We’re back!” Futaba calls cheerily. She comes through the gate with her own share of bug catching nets and cages. So that’s where she’s been. Out bug catching.
Behind her, is Junna, looking dead tired just like Hikari and Mahiru before her. Junna offers them a polite greeting upon seeing them, unlike Karen earlier. Then she walks right up to the jug of iced tea on the serving table, and pours herself a glass.
“Welcome back, dear. You’ve certainly been gone long,” Kaoruko says trying not to sound too curious about Futaba’s bug catching adventures. Let her have some space Kaoruko reminds herself. It helps to tempt down the battery of questions that are brimming. Sitting up, she offers Futaba the remnants of her iced tea then flaps her fan at her.
“Thanks!” Futaba says. Compared to Junna’s leisurely pace, Futaba practically chugs the tea, even though it’s definitely a little gross now that it’s warm instead of chilled. As expected Futaba’s face scrunches up with distaste when she finishes the tea. “Geez, it’s gross when it’s this hot.”
“Agreed,” Junna says, making a similar expression. “We should have packed more water…” She sighs.
“Daiba-san will be upset if you haven’t been hydrating yourself in this weather,” Maya comments. She pours Junna another glass. “You do have a propensity to pass—”
“J-just keep it between us!” Junna says hurriedly.
“Sorry, that’s on me this time,” Futaba says. “It got hotter than we expected today and we went out kind of far too so...keep it a secret, okay?”
“Very well. Though, I’m sure she would have been fine in your capable hands,” Maya comments.
��Of course!” Kaoruko adds haughtiful. Anybody would be fine if Futaba was around. She excels in taking care of people even she has no business too.
“I don’t know about that. Oh, pour her another glass though,” Futaba says when Junna finishes off her second glass.
“M-more?” Junna splutters.
“More,” Futaba insists.
Maya obliges, and fills her glass again. Junna looks at the no-longer-iced tea with more disdain than before, but she drinks it regardless. Albeit slowly.
Satisfied, Futaba nods and turns to Kaoruko. She plucks a Pokeball off her belt. “Here.” Futaba passes the Pokeball into Kaoruko’s hand. “You better appreciate this, these things are harder to get than we thought.”
“Hmm?” Kaoruko’s eyes widen when a Karrablast pops out of the Pokeball and onto her lap. “That’s where you’ve been sneaking off to this entire weekend? You went to find a Karrablast for me?” She asks a little awed.
Futaba grins, incredibly proud of herself. “Well? What do you think?”
Kaoruko turns her attention back to the Karrablast.
“It’s coloration...is very normal,” Kaoruko says. The blue color is as plain as most Karrablast. Unsurprisingly.
“Yup,” Futaba says with a nod, expecting her to continue.
Unlike the Shelmet, this Karrablast has a rather thin, almost soft feeling chitin. It’s actually a bit too thin compared to most other hard shelled bug Pokemon. Odd. “Maybe undernourished, or possibly because it has a different diet than other wild Karrablast....” Kaoruko muses. “If it was caught near the city rather than it’s usual habitat?” Kaoruko wonders aloud to herself.
”Swarming bugs, do tend to have very unusual diets, right?” Junna asks, seemingly the only one keeping up with her train of thought, though Futaba nods along to her inspection.
“Hmm. Likely. I’ll see what a new diet will do.” Kaoruko rubs the thin horn gently. It doesn’t jerk away. It chitters and rubs its head into her hand. Kaoruko is delighted. “It’s so bizarre! Look at how docile it is! Just like the others! This is amazing! Such a lucky streak of bugs!”
“You sure are weird about bugs. I can never tell if they’re any good or not!” Futaba says with a huff, but she’s clearly amused. She raises her hands placating when Kaoruko starts to protest.
“They’re all good Pokemon! I know I know!” Futaba laughs. “You said you wanted one didn’t you? So, here it is.” Futaba grins. “Sorry we couldn’t find a Shelmet while we were at it, we tried.”
“I can’t believe this…”
“Woah. Uh. Karen what are you doing over there…? Oh, hey! Look at that! You already got them evolved?” Futaba whistles appreciatively at Karen's new acquisitions. “Damn, and here I thought they were rare as hell. Good for you!” Futaba claps Karen on the back.
“You caught both of them and already evolved them? Argh, I really wanted to see…” Junna groans and sighs.
“You just missed it,” Kaoruko says. “It was certainly something alright.”
Karen stares enviously at Kaoruko’s Karrablast. Kaoruko pets it with a wide smile, just to rub it in a little bit.
“I can’t believe this…” Karen repeats with a dramatic groan.
“What’s with the face, Karen? You’ve got some seriously awesome Pokemon,” Futaba says.
“And we had so much trouble getting just the Karrablast,” Junna adds. “You have them both evolved already…“ Karen only looks more dejected. “Why are you moping more?” Junna asks, utterly confused.
Both of Karen’s new Pokemon abandon her. They push back into Maya space for more poffins, bored with their new unresponsive trainer. They wait patiently while Maya picks out another poffin. Such nice Pokemon, and so well-behaved!
“Indeed, Karen-han,” Kaoruko smiles delighted by Karen’s unusual streak of misfortune. “You should be thankful for such excellent Pokemon.” And they really are nice Pokemon, she wouldn’t mind having a pair of them for herself.
Perhaps sensing that thought, Karen leaps up with determination and then immediately drops back to her knees in deference.
“Kaoruko-chan, please with trade me! I’ll give you both of these Pokemon for that Karrablast!”
“Hmph, no way. Get your own.”
Karen only sighs as if having expected the total rejection. “Yeah, I figured it would be like that.”
“You wanted a Karrablast?” Junna asks with surprise. Karen nods. “Oh. Now that I think about it...don’t they look a lot like that one character you like a lot…?”
Karen nods eagerly now, momentarily delighted that Junna seems to have recognized it.
Oh. That weird brown slug thing? Or was it a crab? A cricket? It was on almost all of Karen’s belongings, though not nearly as prominent as Hikari’s obsession with Mr. White or Mahiru’s obsession with Suzdal Cat. Right now, under her overalls, she’s got one of those weird crab...slug... things printed on her shirt.
“They look totally similar, right? So I really wanted a Karrablast!”
Kaoruko doesn’t see the resemblance at all.
“Well...if you want it so bad, I have one. I can trade you,” Junna says, selecting a Pokeball from her belt.
“What? You have one?” Karen jumps from the floor. “Really? JunJun, really? Really, really, really?” Karen grabs her by the arm, shaking jumping up and down.
“Really! Now let go! Geez!” Junna huffs. She shakes Karen off. “While I was out of with Isurugi-san we found these two Karrablast at least. I was hoping we could get another pair but...”
“No, Shelmet though, unfortunately for you, huh Hoshimi?”
“Unfortunately. If we could have gotten enough to see a live evolu—”
Karen immediately cuts off Junna’s long-winded explanation before it gets any steam by grabbing her arm again and shaking it. Kaoruko mentally thanks her.
“Yes!!!! I’m so lucky, thank you! Thank you so much! JunJun! I’m so happy! I’m so glad! JunJun!”
“Okay! Take it easy! I said, let go!”
#revue starlight#appoximately 2800 words#idk i just like pokemon and revue starlight#and sometimes i like writing
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Elsword Job Paths, but the storyline gets rewritten by me because I’m bored Pt 1/2
Hi this is me I’m doing this because why not
Also first disclaimer I’ve only played so much Elsword which in general involves me only playing up to 3rd job, non transcendent, so anything from transcendence onwards is just baseless assumption from me
Also I’m picking out all job titles that are really similar because this game tries to be original but we all know that’s false because Add is basically Geas The Character and Elesis is A FakeTM
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Elsword, the Knight who really likes smacking things in the head with a flat sword, really, who does that
After a long training session, he goes back to his home and what he picks up next will determine his fate:
Sword Knight > Lord Knight > Knight Emperor*
*:Not to be confused with Knight or Emperor, which is Elsword’s first job and Jin’s fourth job respectively
He picks up a picture of his sister, whom had magically disappeared an hour prior. Developing a hard onee-chan complex because he really aspires to grow and become just like her (minus the hair), he vigorously trains in the sword, and also starts using swords with sharper ends, good on you Elsword.
Magic Knight* > Rune Slayer > Rune Master^
*: Not to be confused with Spell Knight, which is Ronan’s first job
^: Not to be confused with Rune Caster, which is Mari’s first job
He picks up Aisha’s bag of supplies while she isn’t around and takes out the first thing, which was a pair of runed gloves. With the power of robbery gone unnoticed he develops the ability to use! Runes! Wow! Who could have guessed from that job title!
Sheath Knight (really?) > Infinity Blade* > Immortal (god why)
*:Not to be confused with the hot selling mobile app game Infinity Blade
He picks up Aisha’s bag of supplies while she isn’t around and takes out the first thing, which is apparently an entire box set of anime discs and manga which were completely misarranged. Elsword decided to do her a favor by rearranging everything, after he went through her entire Shoujou series. Now with the power of god and anime on his side, he decides to smack people with sword sheaths instead. Wonderful. I don’t know where to begin.
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Aisha, the Magician whom is clearly in any form not completely identical to a specific girl named Arme Glenstid, as she has the ability to cast multiple fireballs instead of just one at a time (plowed fire doesn’t count).
After going out to shop for supplies and magical items and trinkets she realize her bag wasn’t with her. What she does next will forever change her path:
High Magician > Elemental Master > Aether Sage
She decides that everything in her hackysack wasn’t important anyway, her magic power was lost! She couldn’t be sitting around watching anime. She gets a little antsy and fidgety and starts taking it out by trying to have fun smacking enemies but eventually becomes a full fledged Sage by her own capabilities, twice. A wonderful girl.
Dark Magician* > Void Princess > Oz Soceress
*:Not to be confused with Dark Magician, the monster card that Atem summons in almost every duel episode ever
She decided that she really needs to get her stuff back. After discovering Elsword rummaging through it, she starts being absolutely pouty and learns how to channel her angsty emotion into destructive power. Eventually she learns how to channel any emotion into destructive power and now she’s literally rewritten the story of Oz into a manual of her road to (re)power.
Battle Magician* > Dimension Witch > Metamorphy
*:Not to be confused with Battle Mage, which is Arme’s fourth job, but it’s pretty friggin’ close to it anyway so really what’s the difference
She decided that she really needs to get her stuff back. After discovering Elsword rummaging through it and looking through her Shoujou anime and manga, she decides to join him. Nothing like anime to de stress, right? Eventually like Elsword, she becomes suffused with the power of god and anime and is now literally a Madoka Shoujou, and also as overpowered.
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Rena, the Ranger whom really likes her shape and really likes flaunting it. Even if she has a very close resemblance to a certain Eryuelian archer, the inhumanly oversized chest of abundance really points out a difference. And also her spine is really goddamn flexible like yeesh. (Also whoever shittalks me about Rena for describing her like this really needs to play her because unless you’re going Sniping path, you are getting a lot of skimpy wear)
She embarks on her journey to Elrios (Gee where had I heard of this before) and decides that if she were going to have to fight through demons, that she’d have to pick a specific school of combat to major in:
Combat Ranger > Wind Sneaker > Anemos
Rena decides that her diet will now be calcium and protein based, and her bones grow strong and her muscles bulge from the daily workout of a commando. Her kicks prove to be insanely painful and she performs backflips and soumersalts, and occasionally performs for the poor. She also communes with the wind elemental to give her feet their blessings, so she basically becomes someone that is definitely not from a certain anime named DGrayman.
Sniping Ranger > Grand Archer > Daybreak
Rena decides that her arrows were too blunt and she spends almost all of her free time fletching new, super sharp ones. Also she gets the wind elementals to bless them too. Coupled with her flexible spine, she is able to haul a rain of arrows to end people before they could even look up after being downed by her. It’s useful when you can turn things to your advantage.
Trapping Ranger > Night Watcher > Twilight
Rena decides it’s time she used that stolen blade she snuck out of the shrine because she’s secretly a kleptomaniac. The blade Eldrassil is also super magical and gives her the power of nature while simultaneously sap her positive, then negative emotions. Eventually she becomes Not Batman, wearing a hoodie and for some reason deciding only covering majority of her upper parts alone was good enough to carry on her edgy aura. She also comes with a free bowl of sass and a ton of cuts.
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Raven, the Taker whom is apparently a man with a robot arm and what the hell does a Taker even mean anyway. Why are you an antagonist that dies super easily to an infinite stretch of combos that I juggle you with because you’re just that easy to lift. Obviously he’s edgy, and generally upset with himself, and constantly seeks redemption for deeds he could not control doing. Also the Nasods used him as a base to replicate more robots like him and honestly Rena, yeah I’m disturbed too.
He doesn’t do much, he just says he wants to atone and that he’s good with a sword and also his robot arm has some weird ways to turn energy into weird looking fire. When he is finally free from the mind control of capitalism, he decides that:
Sword Taker > Blade Master > Furious Blade*
*:Not to be confused with Unlimited Blade, which is apparently everyone’s 3MP attack
He hates being a robot and he hates his robotic arm with a passion. But not like, in the way where he’d rip his own Nasod arm off. Are you kidding? That thing has nerves in it. Now that he’s dedicated to destroying Nasod he starts wearing long sleeves and returning to his old self, which is apparently an emo man by first dyeing his hair fully black, and then keeping it down so that it almost always seems to obscure one eye. Yeah, very easy to kill things when you can’t see them too well, right? Also he gets a guy to rebuild his arm to look like his other one.
Over Taker (really?) > Reckless Fist > Rage Hearts* (?????)
*:Not to be confused with Burning Heart, which is one of Fake!Elesis’ 3rd job
He loves being a robot and he loves his robotic arm with a passion. But not like, in the way where he’d make love to his own Nasod arm anyway. Instead he focuses more on his burst potential. With his newfound fascination for pyrotechnics and white hair, he starts streaking his hair with white and also keeping it from his face for a grand total of one job before he feels the comforting embrace of his fringe between his eyes.
Weapon Taker (yeah, what else are you going to take next) > Veteran Commander > Nova Imperator*
*:I swear they’re just making things up by this point
He doesn’t really care honestly. But not like, in the way where he’d use both of them together in a combination way. He just uses other weapons now. He also has so much gratitude for Elsword and his team for saving him that he streaks his hair red now, instead of his white, and attaining maximum edge hairstyle. Also he likes looking very judgmental and upset about things.
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Eve, the Another Code, whose introduction does not match the general sentence and has thusforth failed itself, is a Nasod. Elsword, you’re travelling with a Nasod, wake up your eyes. You’d think her slap would be good enough. But noooo, you had to give her feelings. YOU GAVE A ROBOT FEELINGS. THIS IS WHY SHE ENDS UP HAVING THESE THREE JOB PATHS:
Code: Exotic > Code: Nemesis > Code: Ultimate
Absolutely deciding that feelings is a very not okay thing in computation and artificial intelligence, she resolves to create the ability to wipe out all that stands in her way of her making her empire of Nasods. As such, she slaps that emotional circuitry out of her and starts developing the ability to make some additional machines to murderize both enemy robots and humans. And elves. But mostly robots apparently.
Code: Architect > Code: Empress > Code: Esencia
Absolutely deciding that feelings is a very okay and even important thing in computation and artificial intelligence, she decides to keep the emotional circuitry in herself. And because Elsword gave her feelings and then decide to watch anime instead of talking to her, she gets lonely. So she makes robots, and eventually after mingling with everyone she thinks that, well, maybe Nasods and humans can live together. And elves. But mostly humans apparently.
Code: Electra > Code: Battle Seraph > Code: Sariel
Absolutely unable to decide, her own emotional circuits start short circuiting and now she’s unable to control what she’s feeling, so she goes with the general method of ‘I’m a robot I can’t feel, hoooh’. Also the overloaded circuits start giving her power and pain, until it also short circuited her own pain circuits. In fact basically everything in her short circuits and she becomes a weapon herself to destroy both enemy robots and humans. And elves. But mostly elves apparently.
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(Disclaimer: I played Chung for a grand total of 30 minutes)
Chung, the Guardian who apparently failed to guard his own city from demons. You had one job*. Also his surname is Seeker, and I’m almost sure that’s actually his job name in KR. You had one job. He has long hair, and in fact looks super androgynous, you could mistake him for a girl fairly easily. He’s also the heir of the throne. Like Ara. Like Lu. Like Eve. Boy, you are just one cog in a series of clockwork.
*:He actually has 3 job paths and 3 jobs in each so that’s actually 9 jobs, but details, details.
Eventually he runs into the El Search Party, whom apparently named themselves that because they’re the only goddamn people in the entire world of Elrios trying to save the entire world. Wow. Infatuated by a noble cause and in dire need for one himself because otherwise he’ll break down (and trust me you don’t want him to, his /cry is 13 seconds long), he joins in and decides to hone on his talent with a cannon on his back, or something else:
Fury Guardian > Iron Paladin > Comet Crusader
He loves his hair, he grows it longer like his cannon as he starts to make it stronger with little tinkering. He also loves shooting cannon balls and blowing things up. He ties it up in the end because the hair was getting so long it was starting to block his eyes (which miraculously affects his field of vision unlike every one else in this world). With the martial artist of Rena to help him, he swings that cannon round and round baby, round and round.
Shooting Guardian* > Deadly Chaser > Fatal Phantom
*:GEE WHAT ELSE IS NEW
He doesn’t like his hair, it reminds him of home, and probably the blood of several thousand citizens that he failed to save. So he cuts it, Mulan style, with his new weapon Go Go Geagles. Armed with two more pistols aside from his huge ass cannon he puts on his back, now he starts running around and yelling ‘FIRE’* so much you could swear he’s an audible fire alarm. In fact I’m almost pretty sure he hates fire and his cannon now too.
*: Actually I meant to put this link there but you get two links for the price of one!
Shelling Guardian > Tactical Trooper > Centurion
He likes his hair, but it could probably use a new addition. Flipping through some of Elsword’s (and Aisha’s as well, presumably) manga collection, he decided what he needs was some fox ears. So he asked Ara to see if Eun could bless him with some of her kitsune powers. So she did. Now he has fox ears. He also learns alchemy and ends up making his cannon less reliable, for more destructive purposes. Literally now his shots go everywhere. It’s almost like you don’t care to aim away from your new friends, Chung. Do you really want all of this to happen just because you want your fox ears?
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Ara-Ain will all be on a later post because holy crap this is long
#i get bored#so this happens#i'm also giving this my own tag#elorigins#because one day i might pick this up#probably not until this game dies like grand chase though
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So prompt time Madi calling the ringkru and Octavia Abby kane indra miller and anyone else you can think of by nicknames/codenames that Clarke called them by in her stories(she rarely used the real names) And the characters reactions to their respective stories that Madi knows by heart and word by word Bellamy has ignored Clarke up till now you decide why and if that changes My pen name on ao3 is GriffindorBy Birth Thank you
It starts with Murphy, but it’s impossible for Bellamy to be upset by that on, because they’re halfway through unloading the ship when Madi says, “Oh, you’re the Rat Prince!” and that’s just hilarious.
Clarke chokes, and Murphy looks vaguely alarmed. “Me?”
“Yeah. In the stories, you were the Rat Prince.”
“Rat Prince,” Murphy repeats, looking at Clarke.
She tries to play it cool, which is not going to work, but that’s kind of been the theme ever since they got back to the ground. Everyone’s trying to be normal, and normal doesn’t exist anymore. After six years, Bellamy doesn’t know how to be on the ground, and Clarke is back from the dead with a child. Normal isn’t a thing.
“I used to tell her stories,” she says. “Fairy tales. Based on our lives.”
“And you called me the Rat Prince?” he asks.
“Why wouldn’t she?” asks Raven. “That sounds right to me. Hey, kid, who was I?”
“Oh, you were easy. She just called you the Raven.”
Raven snorts. “Not much of a nickname.”
“Ravens show up a lot in mythology,” say Clarke, glancing at Bellamy like she’s expecting him to confirm this. When he doesn’t, she looks away again, and her voice gets a little brighter. “It’s a good name for you, why would I change it?”
“I want to hear more about the Rat Prince stories,” says Murphy. “What did he do?”
It’s not really surprising, that Madi has all these things memorized, and it is kind of fun, guessing who’s who. Some people are obvious, like Raven, and Abby, who gets to be the Queen, but some of them take a little more work.
What really strikes him, though, is that he’s not there. None of the characters sound like him, and every time someone guesses one of them is him, they’re wrong. Clarke’s told Madi a thousand stories, and he’s apparently not in any of them. Sometimes he gets a passing reference, but he’s just–Bellamy. No one special.
He doesn’t want it to hurt, it’s not like he wants to be the Rat Prince or anything. But he wants to be someone.
“Everything okay?” Clarke asks, as they walk back to her campground.
He knows it’s not fair to be hurt, not really. It’s not as if Madi doesn’t know him, she clearly does. But he feels locked out in a way that stings. She knows all these people as heroic figures, as legends, and he’s off in his own other world.
So his smile is tight. “Yeah,” he says. “Everything’s fine.”
*
It gets worse when they get the bunker open. Not in a global sense, of course. They’re all alive, his sister is alive, and they’re going to have the chance to make a new life. It’s everything he wanted, and he’s happy.
It’s just, well, Madi knows everyone in the bunker too.
It’s the kind of thing he wasn’t expecting to find out. He and Clarke have been doing a decent job of avoiding each other, and he knows that’s mostly on him. Clarke has been following his lead, and his lead is being awkward. He doesn’t know what to do with her yet.
But Madi doesn’t share that problem. Madi has become his shadow, this small, quiet person who seems to want nothing more than to follow him everywhere he goes. Which leaves him in charge of introductions, and him in charge of finding out the names Clarke used for everyone she knew, except for him.
Miller’s the first one to actually bring it up, when Madi tells him he was The Thief.
“What about Bellamy?”
Madi frowns. “Bellamy?”
“What’s his nickname?”
“Oh, Bellamy doesn’t have one.”
Miller doesn’t miss his quick scowl, although Madi thankfully does. “No? Murphy used to call him the king.”
“Yeah, but that would be weird,” says Madi. “Abby’s the Queen, and Bellamy’s not married to her.”
“Can’t argue with that logic,” says Bellamy. “Come on, kid, we need to check in at the clinic. They need this stuff.”
“Nice to meet you, Thief!” she says.
Miller smiles. “Nice to meet you, Nightblood.”
He tracks Bellamy down that night, once he’s alone. “Don’t tell me you’re upset about this.”
Bellamy throws back a shot of moonshine. “Upset about what?”
“The nickname thing. I saw your face.”
“It’s weird, right?” he asks. “She told Madi about everyone, and then I’m off in the corner, being–Bellamy.”
“You think that’s a bad thing?”
“I said weird, not bad.”
“Is that why you and Clarke are being weird too?”
It’s odd, that he’s had less trouble coming back to honesty with Miller than Clarke, but Miller is less complicated. It’s not hard to fall back into grunting at each other and occasionally talking about their lives.
“It’s a weird situation. It’s not like–fuck, she’s alive, I still can’t believe it. But it’s been–I thought she was dead for six years, and now she’s alive and–”
“And it’s not the best thing that ever happened to you?”
“Of course it is,” he says, and the answer is so automatic it shocks him a little.
Miller smirks. “See?”
“I never thought it was bad news. But—I spent six years mourning her and she spent six years raising Madi on stories about everyone but me. What am I supposed to do about that?”
“Talk to her,” he says, like it’s so fucking simple. “You don’t want to avoid her for the rest of your life, right? Your options are limited here. Do it or don’t.”
“I can keep putting it off. For a while longer.”
“You know it doesn’t have to mean anything, right?”
“She’s—every story I’d tell would be about her. And I wasn’t even—“
Miller shrugs. “Maybe it hurt too much.”
“Maybe.”
“Only one way to find out,” he says, and that’s, of course, is true, but also the root cause of the problem. Because, if he’s honest, Bellamy doesn’t really want to know.
It’s easier to just let it go.
*
He puts together a mental list of names, over the next few days, being careful to note how everyone reacts. It’s not like every nickname is flattering, after all; Echo is the Ice Witch, which she likes more than he would have expected, but Indra’s not pleased about being the Forest Spirit. Abby likes being the Queen, but Kane is less sure about being her loyal adviser, even if Madi does tell him they got married in the story too. Octavia never sticks around long enough to find out she’s the Champion, and it’s probably good she doesn’t hear Lincoln was the Healer. Not that she’d mind, but he thinks the wound has finally scabbed over, and he wants it to stay that way.
It’s only after he’s got almost everyone else that it occurs to him to ask, “What about Clarke?”
“Clarke?”
“In the story. Who was she?”
“The hero.”
He snorts. “That was what she called herself? Wow.”
“Mostly, she didn’t call herself anything. Heroes don’t need nicknames. Sometimes she was the princess, but mostly she was just Clarke. Like you.”
“Like me how?” he asks.
Madi’s busy drawing, not even looking at him, apparently not invested in the conversation at all. “You were always just Bellamy. Do you want to hear my favorite Bellamy story?“
His throat feels like one giant lump. "How many Bellamy stories do you know?”
“All of them.”
“I’m not a hero in all of them.”
“No one’s good all the time,” Madi says, and from her tone, he feels sure this is something Clarke has told her a lot. “Being a hero means always trying to do your best.”
“I didn’t always do that either. But tell me your favorite story.”
She looks pleased, as if she’s been waiting for him to ask. “Clarke’s friends are scattered,” she says, which is the start of too many stories, in his opinion. “She made it out of the Mountain, but her friends are still trapped. The Forest Warrior helped her escape, but she was killed before they reached the castle. The Queen stopped her archers from killing her daughter, but she still doesn’t know where so many of her friends are, and the Queen doesn’t want her to go looking.”
Forest Warrior must be Anya; he thinks it because he can’t think about the story. He knows where it’s going.
“And then the trumpets blare, because people are coming through the gates, and when she turns, she sees them: Bellamy and his sister, and she’s never seen anything so good in her whole life. She was sure he was dead, and he’s not. And this is my favorite part,” she adds, all excitement.
He has to smile. “Mine too.”
“He doesn’t see her, but she can’t wait. She runs to him and throws her arms around him, and after all she went through in the Mountain, all the terrible things, she thinks, finally, that she’s going to be okay.”
His throat is so tight it almost hurts. “I don’t even do anything in that story.”
“You’re Bellamy,” she says, like this explains everything. “That’s all you have to do.”
*
It takes him half an hour to get to Clarke, between getting Madi hanging out with Raven and figuring out where Clarke actually is. She’s in her rover, sketching, and he takes a second before she sees him to just look at her. There’s a part of him that can’t help feeling stupid for ever thinking she didn’t care about him enough, and a larger part of him that just thinks loving people as much as he still loves her is always going to be hard. That he’s never going to know exactly how to do it right.
But he can try.
“Hey,” he says, climbing up next to her.
She startles, eyes darting over him as if she’s checking for damage, and then looking past him. “Hey. Is everything okay? Where’s Madi?”
“Learning about engine repair from Raven.”
“Oh. What’s up?”
He considers, and finally settles on, “I’m an asshole.”
Her expression falters, like she doesn’t know what to say to that now, and that as much as anything twists his heart up. “Oh?” she finally asks, delicate, and he barks a laugh.
“Fuck, Clarke, I’m so sorry.”
“For what?”
“I didn’t know what to do. Six years I was–I thought you were dead, and you weren’t, and that’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I never–” He huffs. “I couldn’t believe it.”
“It’s okay,” she says, and he shakes his head.
“It’s not. I didn’t know how to be around you again, it was too much, and–”
“Did you figure it out?” she asks, cautious.
“Madi told me a story. About us.”
“Those were her favorites,” she says, a smile playing on her mouth.
“I thought I wasn’t–I didn’t think I was in them,” he admits. “She had nicknames for everyone you’d ever met, and nothing for me. So–”
“So you thought I didn’t talk about you?”
He shrugs. “I never said it was a smart guess.”
“I thought–” He can see her swallow. “It’s been six years. You had everyone else up on the Ark. I figured you probably didn’t need me anymore.”
“Fuck,” he says. “No, Clarke, I–” He runs his hand through his hair. “I never stopped. Six years and I didn’t think I was ever going to see you again, and I never–”
She leans in and kisses him, so short and soft he’d think he imagined it, except none of the kisses he imagined were ever like that. “If we’re being honest,” she says, a light flush on her cheeks. “That’s where I am.”
He laughs and tugs her in and kisses her again, firm and real, relearning the feel of her in his arms, discovering for the first time what it’s like to have this with her, the way her lips curve against his, how her hands can’t stay in one place, the soft, happy sounds she makes when he does something she likes.
“Me too,” he says, when he finally pulls away, voice rough.
She rests her forehead against his, face bright with happiness. “Okay,” she says. “Good.”
*
When Clarke tells Madi, Madi takes it in, nods, and asks, “Are you going to live happily ever after?”
Clarke glances at him, and he shrugs one shoulder. “I’m not sure anyone ever lives happily ever after,” he admits. “But we’re going to do it for as long as we can.”
Madi nods, apparently satisfied. “Good. I’m going to too.” She curls up against Bellamy, warm and close, and he still doesn’t quite know how to comprehend this, still can’t quite believe that Clarke told this girl so much about him that she loved him before she’d ever met him, but this is, against all odds, his life. “Will you tell me a story?” she adds. “Something new?”
He kisses her hair. “Yeah,” he says. “I think I can come up with something.”
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Fitz, Aida, Jemma & Trip for the character thing!😃
Fitz:
general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! | 10/10 would bang (from like, mid s4 onwards, lol.)hogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuffbest quality: He always tries to see the best in people. Also, his resilience—he’s been through so much shit in his life but he’s never given up. worst quality: He backs down from arguments, even when he’s right, just to let certain people *cough* Jemma *cough* “win” for the sake of peace, to keep her happy and to prevent her from leaving again. He has critically low self-esteem and thinks he’s not good enough, even when it’s shown that he clearly is. Tends to do stupid/dangerous things in order to save others—jumping into random portals to weird alien planets, screaming at dangerous melting space rocks, etc. Look after yourself, dude!ship them with: Ophelia (in the Framework, or in a redemption team au scenario), Daisy.brotp them with: Jemma (I love them as a platonic friendship, but I never shipped them romantically, and I lowkey hate that they went there in canon and the way they went about it too), Hunter.needs to stay away from: His father, literally. misc. thoughts: He’s had the most significant character development out of all the characters on AOS, imo. I didn’t care about him all that much in the beginning, he didn’t have much depth beyond designated nerdy friend/tech designer/occasional comic relief, but he’s grown into one of the most brave, kind-hearted (and now also attractive and badass) characters on the show. Honestly, I’m mostly just sticking around for him. I think I’d have noped out of the show if it wasn’t for him.
Aida:
(See, this is always hard, because I love Ophelia, but the actual android Aida in the first few eps, not so much. So, uh, I guess I’ll just do both? lol)
general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess (Aida) | like them! | love them (Oph) | actual love of my life hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! | 10/10 would banghogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuffbest quality: She’s determined, and she’ll work towards her goal no matter what (lol, literally.) She has the capacity to see the error of her ways and want to change for the better (eventually surrenders the tablet to Fitz in the Framework, expressing her regret over her actions, saying that saving Mack was the best moment of her life, asking if the team will be able to forgive her, etc.) worst quality: Anger issues is an understatement, lol. Driven by vengeance. Needs to learn how to communicate better. Use your words, not your fists, girl, lol.ship them with: Fitz (again, in the Framework and in a redemption au scenario.)brotp them with: I always thought she’d get along well with May. They always had this…weird connection (plus, her “heart”/power source literally saved May’s life, that’s kinda special), she really seemed to care about May and her well-being and respect her. I think she admired her strength and resilience. Plus, she was in favor of keeping her alive, giving her a chance and potentially trying to rehabilitate her when the team were having a vote on what to do with her in 4x21. I would’ve loved to see May take on a mentor kind of role with Ophelia. I think Daisy could potentially warm to her, and maybe Elena and Mack would come around with time, too.needs to stay away from: Ghost Rider, lol. Also, the Superior, whose brilliant plan to get the Darkhold literally got her killed. Damn it, girl. lol.misc. thoughts: I think she deserved better. She had potential. I was 100% on board with a redemption arc for her (which seemed pretty likely until…that scene.) We’ve never had a villain-turned-team-member redemption arc, and I think it would’ve been really satisfying to watch her trying to navigate being human and working as part of a team unit.
She wouldn’t even have to be romantically involved with anyone, I just wanted to see her struggling to adjust but being driven by this desire to repent and do good (she literally said she doesn’t want to hurt anyone again, and that saving Mack brought her joy, I mean, come on) and just learning to be human with the help of the team. Also, she was weirdly…on top of things after coming out of the Framework. There was a lot of telling, not showing (which, tbh, is a prevalent problem on this show.) She’d talk about all these emotions she was feeling, but at the same time she was so…I don’t know, graceful? lol. I kind of wanted to see her being all over the place, fascinated and a little overwhelmed by everything, all the sensations and the sudden ability to smell, touch, taste, etc. Aside from that one scene with the sand and water on the beach, we didn’t really get to see a lot of her actually experiencing things for that first time, which I think would’ve been quite fun to watch.
Jemma:
general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life (this largely depends on what she’s doing/what season we’re talking about. For example, I liked her well enough in S1, her endless fascination with all the scientific/magical weirdness they encountered and her excited babbling was delightful. I still like her when she’s sciencing. But aside from that, she’s one of my least favourite characters, definitely out of the mains, and probably tied with Coulson. I just don’t like the way they’re writing her.)hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! | 10/10 would banghogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff (I think her love of science and constant desire to discover and understand the weird and wonderful are her defining traits; however, I see S3-onwards Jemma also having Slytherin qualities since she started developing hard edges and is often shown to be driven by the desire for personal vengeance—Hive, Aida, etc.)best quality: See above. Her fascination with science is downright delightful, and I always love those moments with her on the show.worst quality: She’s very domineering. She and Fitz aren’t exactly on equal footing in many instances—she has this need to “win” in some ways, like, “oh, you think you’ve had it bad? Well, I’ve had it worse” or “yeah, yeah, I don’t care what you say, I still proposed first”, stuff like that. It’s frustrating. Let him speak his mind, lol. She’s very Hermoine-esque in that sense.ship them with: No one, really. Or, well, that’s not true, but none of them are on the show/alive anymore, lol. I liked her dynamic with Ward in S1 (the way they balanced each other out but also somehow complimented each other, the soft scientist and the “unfeeling” built-like-a-house specialist) and then later on with Trip. Also, *controversial opinion*, Jemma/Will wasn’t all that bad. I mean, I wasn’t crazy about it (there really isn’t all that much to glean from just one episode, not for me anyway) but I don’t think it deserved the absolute outrage and flame-throwing hatred it got in the fandom. Then again, I never shipped FS romantically, lol, so all alternate pairings are more than welcome in my book.brotp them with: Fitz and Daisyneeds to stay away from: Monoliths, lol.misc. thoughts: I think part of my problem with Jemma’s character (aside from the writing) is fandom’s reaction to her. I don’t know, I just find that *some* people have the tendency to put her on this imaginary pedestal and praise her for every little thing she does, acting like she’s some saintly martyr or something. In the eyes of the fandom, she can do no wrong. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a complaint or any sort of constructive criticism about her character (in the public posts anyway), and that’s so frustrating. Of course she’s got flaws. They all do. But idk people just tend to think she’s this ever-suffering, Holy Mother type of character, all the time, no matter what. It’s like, yes, you can be critical of your fave and still have them be your baby.
Trip:
general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! | 10/10 would banghogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuffbest quality: Kindness, loyalty and bravery. Also this easy, almost effortless kind of chemistry he had with the team. They all lit up a little bit whenever he walked into the room, and happiness is something they always need and never get enough of. Like a portable sunshine, lol.worst quality: I don’t want to say selflessness like it’s a bad thing but…I mean, you probably shouldn’t touch weird smoking crystals of unknown (and suspected alien) origin, right? Naivety, maybe? A little bit?ship them with: Jemma, mostly, I think. I know TripSkye is pretty big in the fandom, but I always saw it as a more platonic, big-brother type of thing, whereas there was definitely some flirting going on with Simmons, imo. She wasn’t exactly shy about fancying him, lol.brotp them with: Skye and Fitz (they deserved more scenes together, seriously.)needs to stay away from: Terrigen, lol. misc. thoughts: I liked him, he was a very positive character, but he wasn’t around enough for me to develop an opinion beyond that. Like, he virtually had no flaws, or, well, he was never shown to have any in the time that he was on screen anyway. That’s…never realistic, really. We don’t really know much about him aside from the fact that Garrett was his S.O., that his friend died because of the Clairvoyant/Garrett crap some time before canon, that his mother is alive, and that his grandfather was a Howling Commando. So, not much backstory. I mean, they don’t even bother to expand on the backstories of their existing mains, but still, I would’ve liked to know more about him. That way, you get more attached, you can relate to them more, and it hurts that much more when they kill them off, lol.
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Infatuated- Part II
“This is going to sound crazy, but... from the moment I first set eyes on you I haven't been able to stop thinking about you.” -Leigh Fallon
3 months.
That's how long it'd been since Belle Hopkins had joined the BAU and turned Spencer's life completely upside down.
He could never tell her that though, because she had a boyfriend.
And because she was everything and he was nothing.
She was so small and delicate, yet so strong and capable at the same time. Everything she did was done with such grace that he would find himself laying awake at night wondering how it was possible for a person to so closely resemble a flower.
Belle had quickly made a name for herself in the FBI because along with her beauty, she also held knowledge that made even Reid think twice about certain things. The women on the team took her under their wing almost immediately, inviting her to their Friday evening girls nights and putting her in their text group chat. They looked at her as a little sister because of her youth, but never treated her as such, because her independence and wisdom were well beyond her years. They'd take care of her in the way that they'd take care of each other, but they'd never baby her.
She became friends with Rossi and Morgan almost as quickly as she had with the girls. Morgan joked around with her with the same type of ease that he did with Penelope.
Reid knew Morgan would never look at her as anything more than a friend, but he still found himself filled with jealousy every time he called her "Tinker-Belle" or "Small Stuff".
Everyone could tell that Hotch liked her, too. He'd been smiling a lot more in the past three months than he had been in the years that Reid had been here.
Belle had that effect on people. She could make you smile on days when you had every reason not to. Just her presence alone could give you the extra push you needed to get through the day. She didn't have to say a word to make you feel better. But when she did speak, it was like listening to classical music on a drizzly day. Her voice was the purest velvet and she spoke with such joy and intelligence that Reid often found himself getting lost in her words. It was easy to get lost when around Belle.
But, she was all that, and Spencer was... Spencer.
Plus, she had a boyfriend.
A boyfriend who she called everyday during lunch just to tell him she loved him. A boyfriend who she owned a cat with, who was named after their favorite hockey player. A boyfriend who got to kiss her soft cheek and hold her every night, while Spencer hadn't even worked up the courage to touch her.
Since that day back in September when Belle first arrived at the BAU and he had rejected her handshake, he still hadn't touched any part of her. You could tell that she respected his need for personal space, but god, he didn't want it.
Reid wanted to be around her all the time. To sit next to her on the jet and to let her fall asleep on his shoulder when they had far away cases. But, he had screwed up on her first day and now she rarely came near him.
They were still friends, though. She always made sure of that. She would try to include him in conversations when the whole team was talking about something that he clearly had no experience with. She would always listen to him ramble off statistics and would shush anyone who groaned when it seemed he would never stop. She even learned his coffee order for the early mornings when she'd go to Starbucks before work and get something for everyone.
Like he said, she was everything and Reid was nothing.
"Briefing room in 10 minutes," JJ's voice woke Spencer up from the nap that he didn't know he was taking.
This was the third time this week that he'd fallen asleep at his desk. He hadn't been sleeping much lately.
"Are you okay?" Derek asked as they walked to the briefing room together.
Reid shrugged him off and went to his seat even though he knew he wasn't convincing him.
"Fine, don't tell me, but you know I'm here if you need me, right?" Morgan said while taking the seat next to Reid.
Spencer sighed.
"I know, thanks Morgan," he said genuinely.
He meant it, he really did. Reid appreciated the way Derek looked after him, especially since he knew he had problems with sleeping in the past. But how was Reid suppose to tell him he wasn't sleeping well because he was completely distracted by thoughts of one of their coworkers?
He couldn't.
Hotch stopped Reid's thoughts from wandering further onto Belle when he walked into the room to begin briefing them on the new case.
"As you've probably heard on the news by now, there's a local pilot killing innocent families right here in Virginia. Lucky for us, that means we won't be flying anywhere. Garcia has more details for us," he said as he took the seat next to Rossi.
"Right, here we go," Penelope said as she made her way to the front of the room.
She clicked her little button and a picture of a caucasian family popped up on the screen.
"Fitzgerald family; Michael, Ruth, Taylor, and Winnie; all killed while on a private air tour this weekend. This is the fourth family to be killed in this way. Apparently, the pilot convinces them to go on a tour of the city in his aircraft, but, here's where it gets weird. Once in the air, the pilot jumps ship with a parachute and leaves the family to fend for themselves. As you can see, none have done very well on their own. Kinda messed up if you ask me," she finished as she pressed the button again, causing a picture of the remnants of an airplane to show up.
"What the fuck," Belle whispered as they all took in the picture in front of them.
What type of person continuously crashes planes for fun?
"Yeah, I know," Penelope started. "What we know so far is that all the families have been families of four. One mom, one dad, one son, and one daughter. All from Virginia, and all seemingly happy."
"Do they know where he's getting these planes?" JJ asked, looking up at Penelope.
"Nope, local PD hasn't figured that out yet. And because of the gruesome crashes-"
"All the evidence was burned," Reid finished for her. This was definitely not like most of their cases.
The team pulled up to the local police station in two black SUV's. Hotch shook hands with the man in charge and gave everyone their orders.
"JJ and Morgan, I need you here with me. Rossi, go with Emily to the Fitzgerald's house. Reid and Hopkins, make your way to the local airport and see if you can find anything."
They all nodded and went their separate ways. Reid let out a breath he didn't know he was holding as he climbed into the SUV with Belle.
"Reid?" she said quietly from the drivers seat.
Spencer looked up at her in confusion.
"This is embarrassing, but can you drive instead? I'm not from here so I don't know where I'm going," Belle said without making eye contact with him.
He could tell she was genuinely embarrassed.
"Yeah," he said as he unbuckled and opened the door.
He made his way around the car to the drivers side as she was getting out.
"Thanks," she mumbled as she hopped to the ground.
The SUV's they had made her seem even smaller than she was.
Reid got into the drivers seat as Belle scooted around the car. He watched as she effortlessly jumped into the car and reached for her seatbelt. Once she was buckled, she turned to look at him. He couldn't help but stare at the way her hair clung to her face from being blown around by the crisp winter air.
"Reid?" She asked for the second time.
"Yeah?" He said, staring into her green eyes.
"Are you gonna start the car?" she asked, a slight grin appearing on her face.
"Oh, right," he mumbled as he felt his face turn bright red.
He turned his gaze to the road ahead of them as he started the ignition and put the car in drive.
He didn't look at Belle the rest of the way to the airport, though he could feel her eyes occasionally falling upon his still blushing face.
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#criminalminds#matthewgraygubler#spencer x reader#matthew gray gubler fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction
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Unsung
Chapter Eleven
by: achieving elysium summary:
Chat Noir looked away from her, turning his sad eyes to the sky. "My Lady," he whispered, his words so faint she could've imagined them. "I failed you."
For Marinette, her good luck has just run out. For Adrien, things go horribly wrong. In the blink of an eye, everything has changed - his friend Marinette is akumatized, Ladybug is nowhere to be found, and Papillon looms behind it all. The two heroes have to fight for themselves, but it's hard when they're on opposite ends of the battlefield.
chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11 // chapter eleven: ffnet | ao3
part iii. tell me how the world burns chapter eleven
The news traveled around the school like wildfire. Between the Ladyblog and Alya practically announcing it to the world, everyone knew about Ladybug's open letter.
"I can't believe it," Alya gushed as Marinette steered her through the school. "Did you see Ladybug's post?"
Marinette led her up the stairs.
"Yes, Alya," she said patiently. "You were at my place yesterday when Ladybug posted it. We freaked out over it together."
"I know, I just, ahh!"
Alya's arms flew like pinwheels in her excitement. She spun in a circle with her arms outstretched. "She's so brave and kind and good and I lo-"
"Yes, you love Ladybug, we know, you love Ladybug so much, she's the light of your life, you love her so much, you just love Ladybug, we know, you love Ladybug, you fucking love Ladybug, okay, we know, we get it, you love Ladybug. We get it," Marinette said in one breath.
Alya blinked. "I don't sound like that," she protested.
"Really?" Nino asked, coming up from behind them and slinging an arm around Alya's shoulders. They were so cute, the two of them, and they didn't even realize it. "That impression was spot on, Mari."
They fist-bumped as Alya rolled her eyes.
"But still," she pressed.
"I have to agree with you, Alya," Adrien said. "That letter was pretty great."
His fingers brushed against the inside of her arm before drawing away. He smiled at them.
"See? Adrien appreciates it."
"It's not that I don't," Marinette began, though it was weird to say considering she'd written that letter, "but Alya, you've been talking to me about it for, like, the past ten hours."
Adrien raised an eyebrow in question.
"After you left," she explained. "Alya just kept texting me. We probably stayed up until two or three before she finally left me alone so we could sleep. And then the minute she gets up, my phone starts buzzing."
Alya whirled around and walked backwards, pointing a finger in Marinette's face.
"Hey," she said warningly. "I got you to school on time, didn't I?"
"Thanks for that."
"I just... Ladybug."
Adrien looked at Alya. "I know, right?"
Marinette heaved a long sigh. "Personally, I like Chat Noir better."
Though she hadn't said it very loudly, Adrien, who'd been walking next to her, had heard her words clearly. He blushed and turned even redder when Marinette smiled genuinely at him.
I mean it, she mouthed.
Even Chloé had something to say about it. It was ironic, considering how much she hated Marinette but loved Ladybug. Painfully, disturbingly ironic.
The four friends finally made it to the school library, where they found a desk. It wasn't long before someone came to talk to Alya, though, the knowledge that she ran the Ladyblog sparking conversation.
Marinette let the sound of chatter wash over her as she read a book she'd bought for herself a few weeks ago. She scribbled some notes in the margins; in the seat next to her, Adrien was writing lines in Chinese, though their eyes occasionally drifted to each other.
Take it slow, Marinette reminded herself. She liked Adrien. Well, okay, like was probably an understatement.
But they were still adjusting. She'd look at Adrien and wonder how she'd never noticed how he was Chat, but in the next minute would find herself overwhelmed by it. And though she'd written that letter on the Ladyblog, the superheroine Ladybug had yet to make an appearance on the rooftops of Paris.
Marinette set down her book and leaned in, making a split second decision. "Samedi night."
Adrien cocked his head and blinked, long and slow. "Samedi night? Are you asking me out, bugaboo?"
She shoved at his arm.
"Seriously, kitty," she said, but she giggled in spite of herself. "Really, though. Samedi night."
He frowned lightly, confused but willing to go along. "Okay."
Marinette squeezed his shoulder and returned to her book like nothing had ever happened - until someone slammed it shut before she could continue reading.
"Marinette," said Chloé, her blue eyes icy. Sabrina was nowhere in sight. "Can we... talk?"
She trembled in her seat. Chloé made her feel insecure; her presence dragged up memories and tore at the scars that had only just begun to scab over.
Adrien stood up; when they noticed what was happening, so did Alya and Nino.
"Hey, leave her alone, Chloé," Alya said sharply, and underneath her anger was fear.
But Chloé ignored her, staring down at Marinette. "Well?"
She took a deep breath. I want you to remember that you are loved, that you are worth it, and that I believe in you. There will always be someone who cares. You just need to open your eyes.
Adrien stepped forward, cutting in protectively between the two girls.
"Chloé," he said in a low voice so only the three of them could hear. "do not make me choose."
Had that only been yesterday?
Marinette took a deep breath and stood up, meeting Chloé's eyes.
"It's okay," she said to herself. Then she said it louder for her friends. "It's okay, guys."
Then she swept out an arm. "Lead the way, Chloé."
As they found a corner of the library that was quiet, Marinette let herself think. She wasn't sure what Chloé wanted. And it probably wasn't a good idea to "talk" with her, but Marinette needed to face her at some point.
"Look, I don't like you," Chloé said the moment they were out of earshot, spinning around so they could face each other.
Marinette's face burned, but she lifted her chin and crossed her arms. "Good," she said. "I don't like you either."
"But Adrien is my best friend."
Marinette said nothing, though underneath her skin, a mix of anger and spite bubbled. She suddenly wanted to spit in Chloé's face. But he wasn't hers, not really.
Chloé sighed.
"I don't think you deserve him. I don't think anyone deserves him." Marinette sat down in a nearby chair, Chloé copying her without thinking. "But he means a lot to me, and you - you - mean a lot to him. I don't get it. I don't get it."
The anger burst free like the floodgates had opened, water pouring out. "I don't get why he's friends with you, either," she said, shooting upwards. "I don't deserve Adrien and I know that, but neither do you!"
"Will you shut up," Chloé snapped. She took a deep breath. "What I'm saying is I think... I think we should be friends."
"What," Marinette said.
"Don't make me repeat myself," Chloé shot back. "Not friends, but..."
Marinette counted to ten and then backwards in her head until she felt calm enough to reply. Her mind frantically ran over the words, trying to figure out what was happening and why. She knew what Adrien would want her to do, what Maman and Papa would say, what Tikki would whisper quietly in her ear.
"No," she said finally.
Chloé stopped. "No?"
Marinette closed her eyes. "Chloé," she said. "What you've done to other people, what you did to me... I won't ever forget that. That's not something I can forget, something I can just- drop. I will never look at you and not remember what you did. What I did. Who I became."
Take care of yourself first, a commenter had said.
"Being friends with you won't fix anything. And I don't want to be friends with you for Adrien. I'd want to be friends with you because I genuinely like you, or because I respect you as a person. And right now, I am neither of those.
"But I'm also tired of being shut down. I'm so tired of feeling like I'm struggling to just get up every day. And I'm tired of seeing you as an enemy, because in the long run, you aren't."
Chloé pursed her lips.
"Then don't make me one." She held out her hand. "A truce."
Marinette raised an eyebrow. "A truce?"
"Ladybug said something yesterday," she said, "and of course, I read it, because I'm Ladybug's biggest fan. She said that we should stand against Papillon... and that all that negative stuff doesn't help."
It wasn't exactly what she'd said, but it was close enough.
"So... a truce. If you don't want to be friends, fine. I don't really, either. But for Adrien and for Ladybug, because she's my other best friend and, like, I want to help her, then we can try not to hate each other all the time."
"That's going to be hard."
"Ugh, it makes my skin crawl just thinking about it," Chloé said. Marinette rolled her eyes but silently agreed.
"Maybe we can hate each other, like, sometimes," the other girl finished.
Marinette sighed. She didn't want the anger, the fear, the hate. And though the thought of Chloé being a not-friend wasn't her favorite one, it wasn't the worst.
She took Chloé's hand. "This isn't me forgiving you. This isn't friendship."
She needed to say it - for herself and Chloé both. Because it wasn't, because it still hurt too much, because red threads still looped around lampposts and signs, because the ambulance sirens still rang in the streets of Paris.
Chloé smiled, a rare sight. "I never wanted it to be."
They stood there for a second longer before Marinette dropped Chloé's hand and turned away, her heart feeling lighter. There were worse things that could've happened, and there were worse people to face. She was glad she'd no longer have to worry too much about Chloé.
"Hey," said Adrien when she reappeared and sat down next to him. "What did Chloé want?"
Alya leaned in, putting her phone down on the table. Marinette was suddenly jarred by the absence of the Ladybug charm that was usually on her friend's phone and silently promised to make up for it.
"Yeah, what did Queen Bee want from you?" Nino prodded.
Marinette worked her jaw. "She, um, she actually wanted..." She couldn't even say it, "to be, uh, um, friends."
"Whaaaa," said Nino. "Bro."
"She what?" shrieked Alya. "Girl, please tell me you didn't."
Adrien was the only one who stayed quiet. He knew why Chloé had asked - in fact, he had been one of the reasons for it.
"Well?" Alya demanded when she made no move to answer.
Marinette continued. "I said no."
She took Adrien's hand under the table and rubbed her thumb over his knuckles.
"Booyah," Nino cried.
"No?" Adrien asked quietly, another question shining in his eyes.
She held up a finger. "But I told her... well, in the end, we- we made a truce," She closed her eyes, still not fully understanding the gravity of what she'd done, "because we have enough enemies out there. I don't need another."
No one said anything, but they all knew she was talking about Papillon. Adrien smiled at her, his eyes warm, something close to pride shining in them.
Maybe one day, she told herself. Maybe one day she'd be able to really be friends with Chloé, to love her like a sister. It was a strange thought.
Alya laughed, though she didn't seem to find anything very funny.
"Marinette Dupain-Cheng, everyone," she said, sweeping an arm out dramatically as if presenting her to the others. "What did we even do to deserve you as a friend?"
Adrien glanced over. "The world may never know."
Marinette smiled at them. "What did I do to deserve you?"
School would be out soon, their last class a study hall. Not that most students spent it actually studying, though Marinette probably should've taken the chance to do the weekend's homework - and then spend Saturday and Sunday free from school responsibilities.
The thought was so tempting she put her book away and pulled out her textbooks and worksheets alongside a beat-up stylus. There wasn't nearly enough time to get everything done, but she'd at least get a head start.
"Dude," Nino said, pulling his headphones back down to rest around his neck, obviously about to listen to more music. "Are you actually doing homework right now?"
Marinette made a face. "Maybe."
Adrien wrote a last line in Chinese and snapped his workbook shut, Marinette only catching a glimpse of the characters he'd written.
"That's a good idea," he said, getting his own work out so they could put their heads together.
"You know me," she said, pouring over her history textbook's chapter on Ancient Greece, "queen of good ideas."
"Don't I know it," Adrien said under his breath.
"But do you know the difference between Doric and Corinthian columns?" she asked, though she already knew the answer. She'd been obsessed with mythology and other cultures as a kid - Greek had always been her favorite. Something about the Greek gods had drawn her in, and then she'd ended up learning about other things, like the equally-interesting architecture.
"Um," Adrien said. Marinette skimmed the rest of the chapter, but it was hard to concentrate with him next to her, muttering equations under his breath. Really, really hard.
Marinette did end up getting two classes' worth of work done before school let out, though, which she counted as a victory. She packed up her things and walked with her friends out to the street before they parted ways. Adrien said a quiet apology - though she'd told him he didn't need to - before climbing into the limo. While he'd been free yesterday, today was jam-packed with activities, from fencing to piano. She hoped he'd be okay with all the work, though he was probably used to it.
Marinette kept her head down as she walked the short distance back home. Red string curled around a set of outside dining tables and still hung from the bakery, lines of red decorating the sign.
She dropped off her bag in the apartment before darting back downstairs and tying an apron around her waist. The customers smiled when she joined her parents.
"I can take care of the front, Maman," Marinette offered. "I know someone ordered that cake today - you should probably go help Papa."
Maman smiled. "Thank you, Marinette," she said, turning to the customer she was helping. "Have a great day!"
Marinette took over manning the front and let her mind be soothed by the familiar work. She answered questions, rang up bakery items, and called out her greetings to the regulars.
Mme. Halle, who came in every few days to buy a loaf of bread and some cookies, smiled warmly when she came to check out. "It's good to see you, Marinette."
She grinned back. "You, too, Madame," she replied, putting the cookies in a box and the bread in another one. "Anything else?"
Mme. Halle usually didn't buy anything else, though Marinette always asked out of courtesy. But today, she paused while rummaging in her purse to pay. "What's your favorite pastry?"
"Hmm?" she asked, blinking. "Oh, mine? Um, I really like the eclairs, but if you want a real treat, you should get a slice of Papa's coffee cake. There's also the red bean sesame balls, if you'd like to try something a little different."
"Well," said Mme. Halle. "if you like the coffee cake so much, I suppose I shall get two slices, dear."
Marinette boxed them individually. "You won't regret it," she promised. Papa's cake was the best; she loved helping him make it and breathing in the rich aroma of coffee and sugar.
"Thank you, Marinette," Mme. Halle told her as she handed over a few crisp bills. Marinette returned the change and a receipt and told her to have a good day.
Mme. Halle took one of the boxed slices of cake she'd bought and set it on the counter, resting her hand on it. Her blue nails shone in the warm light.
"One for me, one for you," she said. "You bring warmth to this bakery, Marinette."
"Oh, Madame," she said, pushing the box back across the counter. "I can't take this."
"You should."
"Really," Marinette said. "You're really too kind, Madame, but there's plenty of cake upstairs still waiting to be eaten, and..."
"I insist," Mme. Halle said, and Marinette quailed under her look and the line of waiting customers.
She bowed her head. "Thank you, Madame."
They smiled at each other, and Marinette took the box, setting it down under the counter. She'd eat it later, or maybe she'd save it for her parents or one of her friends. They'd like that.
"Are you Marinette?" said the next customer, leaning against the glass case of pastries and eyeing her with a predatory look she didn't like. "Marinette Dupain-Cheng, right?"
She smiled politely, mentally taking a deep breath.
"Can I help you, sir?"
The man, perhaps a student from one of the universities, was someone she'd never seen around before.
"I think you can."
He pestered her about the different kinds of pastries, asking about the cakes and cookies and pies until Marinette's head was spinning. Then he saw the Chinese pastries Maman made and frowned. "What are these?"
"They're our Chinese pastries, sir," Marinette said through gritted teeth, already on her last nerve. She took a deep breath. "We like to offer a wide variety on our menu."
"What are you?"
She hated the question. Hated how it made her feel, how completely insensitive and rude it was. "I'm sorry?"
He smirked at her, sliding a jar of orange marmalade across the counter as well as a box of lemon and cranberry poppyseed muffins.
"Are you Chinese?" he asked.
She took a deep breath but knew that being anything less than professional and polite would cost her.
"I'm sorry, but it's none of your business," she said, though her parentage was common knowledge to anyone who knew the Dupain-Chengs. "Is this all you'd like today, sir?"
"Actually, can I get your number?"
She closed her eyes and instead took one of the business cards from under the counter, slipping it into his bag.
"Our hours are from seven in the morning to eight in the evening during weekdays and nine to three during the weekends. If you'd like to reach us or place an order, please call this number."
She didn't like the look on his face. It made her uneasy, like she had no privacy, his eyes seeing straight through her.
But he made no move to do anything other than smile wanly at her.
"I'll be sure to make a call."
She smiled back, though it made her feel disgusted. "Have a good day."
She took care of a few more people before she had to excuse herself, telling Maman she'd like to get some homework done before the dinner. Maman suspected nothing as Marinette raced upstairs, her skin crawling.
She had to scrub at her hands and splash her face with cold water twice before she could calm down. When she wandered out of the bathroom and back to the living room, Maman had come upstairs, holding the store phone in her hand.
"Someone called asking for you," she said, passing the phone to Marinette. "I guess they didn't know your number."
"Oh," she said, "thank you, Maman."
Maman disappeared and left, leaving Marinette alone. She looked at the phone, wondering why anyone would call the bakery, and lifted it to her ear.
"Hello?"
"Fabricator."
Marinette's legs gave out underneath her, and she slipped to the ground, breathing hard.
"I'm Marinette," she said firmly.
"You destroyed my home," the voice said, and she suddenly recognized the person - the customer who'd been at the counter not even ten minutes ago. "You don't belong here, freak."
"Paris is my home," she said, but her voice shook. Being biracial wasn't easy; Marinette had always felt split over her two backgrounds, like she didn't quite belong to either. "I have every right to be here."
Her breaths came louder and faster as he ranted, his words swirling in Marinette's head. She didn't belong. She'd been Akumatized, and it was proof that she should leave her home. Paris wasn't her home; if it was, she'd destroyed it. On and on, until Marinette was shaking, every word a claw pressing down on the barriers of her mind.
"Leave me alone," she spat. "You don't know anything about me."
"I know enough."
Marinette ended the call and threw the phone across the room, watching it land as she breathed heavily.
"Marinette?" Tikki phased through the side of her bag and looked up at her. She looked like she'd just woken up. "Are you alright?"
She heaved a breath. "Fine."
Marinette counted to ten and then back down to one, trying to steady her breathing as Tikki hovered around her.
"No, you're not," the kwami said gently. "What's wrong? What happened?"
"Nothing," Marinette said, standing up.
"You're crying," Tikki observed, and she wiped at her tears with the back of her hand angrily, storming upstairs. Tikki didn't leave her alone, continuing to ask. All she wanted to do was curl up and cry, the storm of anger and guilt that had almost calmed stirring again.
"Will you at least talk to someone about it? Adrien?"
"No," she sniffled. "Adrien doesn't need to know."
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, a familiar jingle ringing in the air. Marinette went to dismiss it but hesitated on seeing the name Master Fu. "H-hello?"
"Ladybug," Master Fu said. "I have urgent news."
Marinette shoved away her emotions, locking them tightly into a box in the back of her mind. She had to focus. She was still Ladybug, still had a duty to do.
"What is it?"
"The akuma... your akuma has escaped."
Marinette whimpered, the noise pathetic. She shouldn't be as afraid as it was. "What?"
"Be careful, Ladybug. It will come after you."
The call ended as suddenly as it had come. Marinette scrambled backwards in a panic, her hands shaking.
"No, no, no, no, no," she panted. "It's coming, it's coming for me, Tikki."
Her fault, her fault.
A dark shape flitted through the window, and Marinette froze, her eyes wide. The dark purple-and-black butterfly drew closer, and her mouth opened in a silent scream as she leapt into action, trying to get further from it.
It slipped into her shoe, and in the distance, she could hear Papillon's voice, distorted and echo-y. Hello, my dear Fabricator.
"No," Marinette said. "No, you lied to me, you are my enemy, you-"
She tore off her shoe and threw it. The akuma went for her other shoe, and she took that off, watching in horror as it came back again and again. She tore off the bracelet she'd put on this morning. Out came the hairties that had kept her hair in pigtails.
She raced up the stairs towards the roof, pulling the door shut after her as she found her phone, frantically dialing a number she now knew by heart.
He picked up after the fourth call.
"Marinette, sorry, I had to finish the photoshoot." There was talking in the background. Adrien sighed. "I'm sorry, bug, I have to go-"
She sobbed into the phone.
"It's here, it's here," she gasped, "please, Adrien, it escaped-"
"Marinette? Marinette, you need to take a deep breath-"
She tossed her bag to the side, Tikki already floating beside her. "Marinette, you need to calm down."
But Marinette couldn't. Seeing the akuma sent her into a full-blown panic. She screamed again when it landed on her shoulder, dropping her phone and waving her arms to get it off.
"Go away!" she shouted. "Leave me alone, Papillon!"
"The earring," Tikki said in her ear, "hurry, Marinette."
"No," she said. "No. I can't."
Tikki hovered in front of her face, and Marinette forced herself to take a deep breath even though she was shaking and sweating.
"Ladybug," she said, "you must."
"I'm scared, Tikki, I'm so scared."
"I know you are," Tikki said, "but I also know that you're brave. I know that you're kind. I know that you have done things no one else in the world could ever even imagine doing. You can do this."
She pressed Marinette's other earring into her hand, and Marinette stared at it like she'd never seen it before. Eyes trained on Tikki, who was both patient and encouraging, she fit it into her ear. Some of the cold washed away, chased out by warmth. The world righted itself, and the akuma faltered in mid-air.
Papillon is a threat no one should take lightly, as I have learned. He preys on insecurity, on fear, on sadness, on anger... Do not let Papillon win.
As if she knew what Marinette was thinking, Tikki said: "Don't let him win, Ladybug."
Ladybug, not Fabricator. Ladybug. She'd always been Ladybug; she was Ladybug before she was Fabricator. A hero before she was a villain – no, not even that – a victim.
"Tikki," she began slowly. "Spots on."
Her yo-yo was nothing more than a blur as she caught the akuma as it raced in her direction, its flight dipping as if it was confused.
"Je t'ai eu," she whispered, releasing the purified butterfly a moment later. The white thing looked like a figment of hope, a piece of freedom. "Bye-bye, little butterfly."
notes:
祝你门新年好!恭喜发财!Since I can't send out red envelopes to all of you, I thought it'd be nice to update for the new year!
This is quite an appropriate chapter, I think - please remember this year to think about what you say to other people and how much of an impact you can have. Please remember today is not just a fun day, that today marks a holiday for many of us who are spending time with (or without) our families. For people like Marinette, for people like me, please remember that we belong here. We do, I promise.
I've decided to go ahead and do the Unsung Q&A, so if you have any questions about anything, drop them in a review, and when this fic is finished, I'll answer them!
#miraculous ladybug#ml fanfic#ml#marinette cheng#adrien agreste#my ml#my fanfiction#me: uses old memes#wouldja look at that its an update!#unsung
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